Make Room for the Jester Read Online Free PDF

on a gentleman’s yacht.’
    ‘We cleaned it up,’ Gladstone said. ‘We did a lot of jobs on it. We fixed the roof…’
    The man looked upwards. ‘I’m very grateful. Looks as if I’ll have a dry berth tonight.’ He broke wind very loudly.
    ‘You’re not going to live here?’ I said.
    ‘Where else? What’s your name, then? Mickey Mouse?’
    ‘Lew Morgan,’ I said.
    ‘If it’s any of your business,’ Gladstone added quickly.
    The man took no offence. ‘Lew Morgan? There always was plenty of Morgans in Porthmawr. Morgans Butchers, Morgans Post Office, Morgans Dairy, Morgans Fish and Chips. Oh, hell, aye – some of the elite of the place was Morgans. There was a Morgans Big Spit once, if I remember.’
    We smiled in spite of ourselves.
    ‘A Morgans Come-to-Jesus, too.’
    ‘Not in front of the children,’ Gladstone said sharply.
    The man’s heavy eyebrows went up. ‘Got to be careful, have I? What did you say your name was?’
    ‘No right to ask,’ Gladstone replied. ‘Only with a warrant – that’s when you’ve a right…’
    ‘Well up in legal matters, I see. All right’ – he banged his hand against his knee – ‘tell you what I’ll do. This is my boat. The nearest thing I have to home in Porthmawr and the land of my fathers. But I’ll tell you what – you can go on using it as your den. I’ll only be needing the place at night, anyway…’
    We looked at each other wonderingly. This wasn’t the kind of agreement we were used to. Most people, if they didn’t chase us away, generally began to talk about the police. Dewi’s face said there’s a catch in it, but Gladstone was smiling.
    ‘On what terms?’ he asked with dignity.
    ‘Terms? Don’t ask me to talk about terms. Just come along when you want.’ He held out his hand. ‘You can shake on it, can’t you?’ None of us stepped forward, except Walter, who was mad keen on the handshaking business, but Gladstone yanked him back. ‘By God, suspicious sons of Wales you lot are, all right.’
    Then Gladstone stepped forward. ‘My name is Gladstone Williams,’ he said. ‘What’s yours?’
    ‘Gladstone Williams? Bet you don’t like that, do you…’
    ‘That’s got nothing to do with,’ Gladstone snapped.
    ‘Fair enough, kid. Got to admit it’s better than Lloyd George Brown. Knew a feller called that, once…’
    ‘Was it you lit the fire?’ Dewi asked.
    ‘It was cold in here in the early hours,’ the man said.‘Came over just as I was. But I’ve brought my kit now, see…’
    That seemed to settle it. He was moving in. I felt my resentment rise. He had no right to barge in like this, even if he really was the owner. I turned to Dewi for support, but Gladstone was speaking again.
    ‘May we know your name, sir?’
    I was surprised at Gladstone, angry too. There was no need to be so polite to a broken-down old boozer like this. No need for adding sir, either.
    ‘Certainly you may know my name. It’s Ashton Vaughan.’
    ‘Ah,’ Gladstone said, nodding his head. Ashton Vaughan, I thought: one of the Vaughans, the one who had gone away a long time ago. I’d heard about him too – it was something bad, everything about the Vaughans was bad, but I couldn’t remember at all clearly.
    ‘A bit before your time,’ the man went on as he stretched himself out on the bunk. ‘You weren’t around, I’d say, and that means we can start with a moderately clean slate. Gladstone – you and your gang here can come along any time you like. That clear? But now it’s time I had a siesta, so I’ll grant the lot of you shore leave.’ With a wave of his hand in the direction of the door he dismissed us.
    This isn’t right, I thought, and I could see Dewi felt the same, but there was Gladstone hustling us out, tiptoeing even, holding his finger up to his lips.
    On the peeling deck I said, ‘He can’t do that. Do you realise he’s just taken over our boat?’
    ‘Too bloody true,’ Dewi said.
    But Gladstone insisted we