Page 48 of Debtor’s Daughter

Chapter 14

Larkin,

Our quarry has taken the bait.

I need not tell you this is all highly irregular and if any suggestion of duplicity or fraud was to attach to the club, it would do us no good at all. So to allay suspicion, the competition Jenkins has entered has several games to get through, with the winner sitting at the ‘high table’ with us. We’ve invited a few others on the waiting list for membership, so all appears legitimate. Not that we will be cheating, obviously, but we must ensure Jenkins wins, which is not exactly the usual way of things. It will be interesting to watch him play and see if he cheats or not and if he has any tells. Both Pip and Ash have agreed to play him and take notes, obviously Jules and I will take our turn.

The date for the last game has been set for November 12th. I hope you’ll be ready for him. I might be a touch overdramatic, but I suggest you burn this missive.

―Excerpt from a letter from Mr Leo Hunt (Son of Mr Nathanial and Mrs Alice Hunt) to The Hon’ble Larkin Weston.

29th October 1850, Berwick Street, Soho, London.

Larkin looked across the table to Gideon, who was licking jam off his fingers.

“Was that good?” he asked the boy, amused.

“’Licous,” Gideon replied solemnly.

“I believe you mean delicious,” Larkin corrected, to which Gideon nodded vigorously.

“Yes, what I said, ’licious.”

Larkin laughed and nodded at Mrs Goodall to take the cake away. “I think he’s finally full.”

“He did a fine job, all those sandwiches and two good slices of cake, and didn’t touch the sides,” Mrs Goodall said with approval.

“No more?” Gideon asked, looking a little crestfallen to see the scrumptious ginger cake taken away.

“I think you’ll burst if you eat more, and your mama will not be pleased if I make you sick. You can take some home for tomorrow, though. Look here, how about doing some drawing?” Larkin suggested, passing the paper and pencil over that he’d brought down ready for the boy.

“You draw too?” Gideon asked.

“Certainly, I will,” Larkin agreed, watching to see if he held the pencil correctly and smiling as the lad began his first artwork. Satisfied he was a in the company of a proficient artist, Larkin began a series of pictures he planned to give to Gideon to colour in.

“What are you drawing?” he asked, looking over Gideon’s shoulder.

Gideon immediately grinned and hid his picture, leaning over it. “Don’t look! Surprise,” he insisted.

Larkin laughed and returned to his own work. A moment later, he felt eyes upon him.

“What are you drawing?” Gideon asked.

“A frog on a lily pad, holding an umbrella,” Larkin said, chuckling at the delight in the boy’s eyes.

“Show me!”

Obediently, Larkin turned the page, and Gideon gazed in wonder at the drawing. “Very good drawing, Westie,” he said, giving him an encouraging pat on the arm. “Well done.”

“Thank you,” Larkin replied gravely, and the two artists returned to their work. Ten minutes later, Gideon pronounced himself finished.

“For you,” he said, handing the paper to Larkin.

Larkin thanked him and held the paper up and stared at the picture with the oddest sensation kicking about in his chest.

“That’s you, that’s me, and that’s mama,” Gideon said helpfully, pointing at each of the figures holding hands and wearing big smiles. Gideon was in the middle, with Larkin and his mother on either side. He’d made Larkin a towering figure with a massive head, enormous hands with rather too many fingers, and the biggest smile of all of them.

“Like it?” Gideon asked uncertainly, watching Larkin’s expression.