Entwined Read Online Free PDF

Sorry,” Rose apologized.
    Simon cast his eyes around the shop, resting them momentarily on our portrait.
    “What do we do now, Pa?” Duncan asked, taping up the cardboard box at his feet.
    “Take that picture down and burn it, or return it to Rose,” he said.
    “It’s not mine,” Rose said quietly. “You guys should have it back.”
    “Aye, well, whoever it belongs to it doesn’t belong on this bloody wall, so let’s get the damn thing down,” Simon said, lifting the frame off the wall.
    “How do you think Giorsal came to have it?” I asked, taking the frame off him and wedging it up against some boxes.
    “I have no idea,” Simon replied, “But I’d like it burnt… If Rose has no wish for it.”
    “Why?”
    “Because it’s a portrait of us. If Rose recognized us then others will too, just get rid of it,” he snapped.
    “You can’t burn it, Simon,” I protested.
    “Why?”
    “Because it’s our history, it’s all we have left from when Duncan was a baby. If you burn it, we’ll have nothing to remind us of his childhood.”
    “Since when did we need a portrait to hold onto memories?” Simon asked, with a bewildered look about his face.
    “Well, we don’t need it, but I’d like to keep it,” I said softly.
    “Fine,” he snapped, “Just make sure it is out of sight.”
     
    “Pa, we have cleared a lot of the stock now. Is there anything else you want doing?”
    “Aye lad, you can come and help me in the store. Corran, you can make a start on that mess,” he said, nodding at the counter, “and Rose, I think you’d better get over to Barley Hall.”
    “You sure you guys are going to be OK? I mean, here in this shop on your own?” she asked.
    “Go lass, we will be just fine,” ordered Simon.
    As Rose turned to leave the shop, I grabbed her in a hug. “See you tonight, sweet. Don’t worry, we will be fine, and you know where we are if you need us,” I said squeezing her tightly.
    “Ta, Corran. Keep safe, hun,” she whispered.
    “And thank you for your help with the stock,” Duncan called from behind one of the boxes they had packed.
    “My pleasure,” Rose smiled, as she pulled the door closed behind her.
    “Do you think she will be alright?”
    “Aye. Stop worrying all the time, it’s not good for the baby.”
    “Is this more information you’ve got from books?” I asked, with the hint of a tease in my voice.
    “Actually, it is. Too much worry is not good for the mother or the baby, and what is not good for the baby and the mother is certainly not good for the father. So spare me the grief, lass, and stop worrying.”
    “Is there anything you haven’t seen on the television or read since we got here?”
    Duncan laughed. “Pa’s better informed than most folk who were raised here.”
    “Nothing wrong with being informed, lad, nothing wrong with it at all,” replied my husband gruffly. “Now if your mother has quite finished, we’ve work to do.”
    Trudging my way through the mountain of scattered paperwork, it became increasingly obvious that Angus hadn’t been interested in the buying or selling of antiques as a business. Storage of trinkets, perhaps, but making a business out of antiques? I don’t think so.
     
    Startled by the bell on the door, I drew a sharp, surprised breath. An elderly woman with thinning gray hair stood in front of the door.
    “Are you open, duck?” Her voice was thin and breathless, her body frail and aged.
    I nodded. “Can I help you?” I asked, wondering why she had referred to me as a duck.
    “I’m looking for a present for my husband’s birthday. He’s eighty-six next week, you know,” she replied, with a croaky tremble.
    “Does your husband like music?” I asked, remembering Rose’s earlier advice.
    “Oh yes, duck. He sang with Geraldo at the Tower.”
    “The Tower?” I asked, perplexed by why anyone would want to sing at the Tower of London.
    “Yes, Blackpool Tower. It was quite a venue after the war.” Her eyes