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Andrews UK - Peter Broadbent

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170 pages

English

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Description

Captain Achilles De'Kedge, veteran of the Royal Navy and mentor of young Felix Wild, has died. His wooden foot - an object strangely coveted by his friend Mrs Sparrow - takes pride of place next to his coffin at the funeral. But the Captain has left something else behind, in addition to a plethora of illegitimate offspring spread throughout the world: a bequest that will set up Felix for life. Before he can barely take in what this will mean for his future, Felix receives an offer from the Admiralty: to travel to China on a clipper in the Great Tea Race of 1866 and to make drawings of what he sees. The voyage takes him first from Portsmouth to Capetown on board a steamship full of female convicts (a source of fascination to the red-blooded nineteen-year-old) before he transfers to the clipper Attitude for the onward voyage. Along the way he learns what 'owt' means in Yorkshire dialect, why the vessel's captain keeps two cockroaches in his beard, why 'voracious' is a good description of the captain's wife Juggy, and how to fool people into thinking he speaks an obscure foreign language.This third and final volume of the seafaring adventures of Felix Wild is a gripping read, with all the pace, wit and colour that readers have come to expect from Peter Broadbent.

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Historical fiction

Informations

Publié par	Andrews UK
Date de parution	28 novembre 2019
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781911105497
Langue	English
Poids de l'ouvrage	1 Mo

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0300€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

Felix Wild and the Great Tea Race
by
Peter Broadbent

First published in 2019 by
Chaplin Books
5 Carlton Way
Gosport, PO12 1LN
www.chaplinbooks.co.uk
Digital edition converted and distributed by
Andrews UK Limited
www.andrewsuk.com
Copyright © 2019 Peter Broadbent
The right of Peter Broadbent to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser. Any person who does so may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

I’ve dedicated all my previous books to my wonderfully supportive family. This time I want to do something different and I know that my nearest and dearest will forgive me when I dedicate this to...
No matter where, or when, I asked you to perform for me, you did it without question. I tapped your keys and you responded. You were sluggish at times, but you never let me down.
You gave me access to a world of fascinating information at the tap of your well-used keys. Your ‘L’ key is a little unsure of itself these days, but I forgive you for that.
I haven’t cleaned or defragged you as often as I promised to do in our early days, but I will change my ways.
No matter where I have taken you, your inbuilt circuitry has performed brilliantly. I have taken you to bizarre places and pushed you unprotected through numerous X-ray machines. Despite this, you have remained loyal, never passing judgment upon me or making my life difficult.
I wouldn’t have completed any of my books without your co-operation and guidance. The way you deal with the complexities of Microsoft Office is truly gratifying.
I don’t know how to repay you: maybe you would appreciate the tranquillity of retirement or at least a break from my constant demands.
I love all your component parts!
CTRL.ALT.DEL

1: A Well-Intentioned Gift

Thursday the twenty-second day of June 1865 is a typical London summer’s day: wet. A group of damp and hopeful men and women sit shoulder-to-shoulder on bare wooden benches in the anteroom of Tackleton & Taylor, Attorneys at Law on Ropemakers Street, Limehouse.
Mister Ansell Tackleton stands imperious but watery-eyed behind a stout wooden lectern. He adjusts his new eye-glasses. The sound of yet another squall of London rain hitting the slate roof briefly interrupts his train of thought. He sniffs and looks judgmentally to the heavens. Two black-frocked women on the front bench are eagerly awaiting details of the closing bequest of the Last Will and Testament of Captain Achilles De’Kedge.
Felix Wild, sitting alongside Mrs Sparrow on the third row bench, is casting his eye over the dusty framed portraits of bewigged luminaries that are hung at badly spaced intervals on the papered walls. A number are perfectly hung but most are clearly on a slant. Felix wonders why nobody has seen fit to align them correctly.
Mister Ansell Tackleton taps his lectern and scans his audience.
‘Finally,’ he says, reading from the document in front of him, ‘my freehold London property, fully devoid of liens, mortgages or loans of any description or kind...’ He pauses for effect, readjusts his papers and looks directly at the two black-frocked women on the front row. Coughing into the cuff of his jacket he composes himself, wipes his chin and takes a deep breath. ‘My apologies – the damp weather has the better of me today.’
A man encased within a ragged gabardine coat on the far right of the front bench stamps his booted feet. There is an impatient grumble from the back of the room.
‘Where was I?’ Mister Tackleton adjusts his eye-glasses again and scans his papers.
‘Get on wi’ it, man!’ says the coated man.
‘If you will bear with me, sir.’ Mister Tackleton starts reading quickly: ‘My freehold London property, fully devoid of liens, mortgages or loans of any description or kind, I bequeath in its entirety to my most gifted student and acquaintance, Master Felix Wild.’
Hearing his name clearly, Felix stops adjusting the picture frames in his mind and sits up straight. He looks to Mrs Sparrow.
There is a noticeable sharp intake of breath and a shuffling of feet. The two women on the front bench swerve as one to search the benches behind them for the Captain’s most gifted student.
Mrs Sparrow places a comforting hand on Felix’s knee.
‘One important caveat is attached to this gift of property,’ continues Mister Tackleton. ‘The property is to be used exclusively for the furtherance of navigational teaching under the tutelage of the owner and principal, Felix Wild, or persons approved and appointed solely by him. Boys from orphanages, workhouses or other establishments of internment in Hampshire and neighbouring counties with maritime connections are to be given priority. Should Master Wild not accept my gift, for whatever reason, the property is to be sold for its current commercial value to the Office of The Lord High Admiral, Admiralty Building, Whitehall, London, to be used for whatever purpose they deem appropriate. Monies from the sale are to be freely given in their entirety to the Blue Coat Elementary School referenced earlier in this document, to feed, clothe and educate the less advantaged children of the afore mentioned parishes.’ Mister Tackleton removes his eye-glasses, wipes the lenses with a grubby handkerchief and scans his audience. ‘If the said Felix Wild is here present, would he please identify himself?’
Mrs Sparrow taps Felix’s knee.
Felix, confident in speechifying, stands. ‘I am Felix Wild, sir,’ he says in a clear and self-assured voice.
Almost every head in the room swerves to stare at Felix, expressions of open-mouthed astonishment on their faces at his blond hair, upright stance, broad shoulders and unusual eyes... surely one is blue and the other green? Felix checks the hang of his brand new Moseley & Pounsford jacket, refastens a couple of buttons and checks that his trews are unruffled about his knees. He smiles confidently as he scans the upturned faces of his wide-eyed audience.
Mrs Sparrow looks Felix up and down: he exudes a degree of self-confidence that comes with his recently acquired wealth. She opens her fan, wafts herself briefly and closes it.
‘Could anyone present, over the legal age of maturity, confirm that this young man is who he claims to be?’ asks Mister Tackleton.
With a rustle of her skirts, Mrs Sparrow stands.
‘I can confirm this young man to be Felix Wild,’ she says.
‘And you are, madam?’
‘Maggie Sparrow, widow of Captain Sparrow, recently the housekeeper and confidante of the recently departed Captain Achilles De’Kedge, Royal Navy, God bless his immortal soul.’
‘How long have you known Master Felix Wild, madam?’
‘I met him when he was Captain De’Kedge’s student a little more than two years ago, sir.’
Mister Tackleton makes a note. ‘Are you in a position to accept Captain De’Kedge’s bequest here and now, Master Wild?’
‘I would like a short time to consult with others, if you please, sir.’
‘Your initial and non-committal reaction if you please. Master Wild?’
Mrs Sparrow nudges Felix with her elbow. As the unexpected centre of attention Felix understands that he has to say something.
‘Do not refuse it, Felix,’ whispers Mrs Sparrow.
‘I do not refuse the bequest, sir.
‘You are only eighteen years of age I understand, Master Wild?’ asks Mister Tackleton.
‘I will be nineteen years of age this coming November on Saint Catherine of the Wheel’s Day.’
‘You cannot legally own a London property until you are twenty years of age, Master Wild. However, should you accept the gift of property, Tackleton & Taylor are able to retain the rights to the property on your behalf until you reach the age of twenty years according to our calendar.’
‘I understand, sir.’
‘Do you have any questions for me, Master Wild?’
‘How shall I communicate my decision to you, sir?’
Mrs Sparrow squeezes Felix’s hand.
‘I will speak to you privately after I have concluded the reading. Normally we would allow you seven days to accept or decline the bequest. In light of your age we can legally give you additional time to decide upon the matter and to take advice from others, should you wish to do so. In the meantime Tackleton & Taylor will continue to have legal access to the property.’ Mister Tackleton levers his papers into a large black bag, buckles it closed and scans the room.
Felix and Mrs Sparrow sit down.
‘I ask all of you who have been bequeathed items in the last Will and Testament of Captain De’Kedge to present themselves at the said London property an hour after sunrise on Wednesday the twenty eighth day of this month, where a representative of Tackleton & Taylor will be in attendance to assist you. May I remind you all that the period of Captain De’Kedge’s lying in state at the Admiralty Building is now officially at an end. The book of condolences is closed and the funeral service will take place nine days hence, on Saturday the first day of July at Greenwich...’
Two of the front bench women interrupt by sobbing loudly and clutching each other’s gloved hand.
Mister Tackleton gives them a moment to compose themselves before continuing. ‘His bo