The Weaver's Inheritance Read Online Free PDF

matters right. Not for the world, I realized, would she consciously denigrate me in front of Adela. ‘But he’s very secretive. He won’t tell you everything. At least, he won’t tell me everything. All the same, I know by little things he accidentally lets drop that he’s been of help to people of far greater importance than Alderman Weaver. If he ever marries again,’ she added coyly, ‘I suppose it’s possible he might confide in his wife.’
    Once again, I saw the dawning of suspicion in Adela’s eyes and hurriedly changed the subject.
    ‘For pity’s sake, Mother! Tell me more about this person who says he’s Clement Weaver. Does he look anything like him?’
    Margaret pursed her lips, a little annoyed at having been thwarted in her purpose. But she was, after all, in no hurry.
    ‘I can’t really remember Clement all that well, and six years is a long time. People alter. But I should say that yes, there is a resemblance. You’ll have to see what you think yourself.’
    I shook my head. ‘I never met him. He’d vanished months before I reached Bristol and was enlisted by the Alderman to help in the search. Where does “Clement” say he’s been all this while?’
    My mother-in-law rubbed her nose. ‘According to Nick Brimble’s aunt, Goody Watkins – who, I swear, has eyes and ears at every keyhole in the city – he’s been living in the Southwark stews, amongst all the thieves and vagabonds, the beggars and whores of London. His story is that six years back, when he was on that ill-fated trip to London with Alison, he suffered a severe blow on the head and afterwards couldn’t remember who he was; not, that is, until before the Christmas just past, when suddenly, miraculously, his memory was restored and he came hurrying home to Bristol. He arrived here, on foot and in a shockingly diseased and filthy state, the day after you left for Hereford. You can imagine! The whole town has been buzzing with rumour and speculation ever since.’
    ‘A severe blow on the head,’ I repeated slowly. ‘Yes, that could make sense … it could be an explanation … No, no! I found his tunic. Bertha Mendip told me—’ I broke off these musings to ask, ‘What of Alderman Weaver? What does he say to this unlooked-for resurrection?’ Although I suppose I already knew, having overheard Alison Burnett’s recent outburst.
    Margaret shrugged. ‘Oh, the Alderman accepted him straight away. He has no doubt whatsoever that this is Clement. But as you know, he’s always found it very hard to accept the death of his son, especially as there was no body, no grave – nothing to prove to him that Clement really had been murdered. He wants to believe, more than anything else in the world, in this young man.’
    ‘But Mistress Burnett and her husband think him an impostor,’
    It was not a question. Again, I already knew the answer.
    My mother-in-law gave a bark of laughter. ‘Of course they do. What would you expect?’
    ‘Yet Alison seemed to me to be fond of her brother.’
    ‘She was. I’ve seen them together many times, both when they were children and when they were grown up, and there was always a great affection between them. You’ll remember yourself how deeply distressed she was by her brother’s disappearance. But that doesn’t mean she’s going to fall on the neck of anyone who bears a passing resemblance to Clement and accept his word that he is who he claims to be, not without proof. Besides,’ Margaret added shrewdly, ‘Mistress Burnett and her husband have had six years to grow accustomed to her being her father’s sole heir. It’s impossible that they would happily share her inheritance now, even with someone of whom they were certain. But with a man who could so easily be a fraud … Well, that would be asking too much of them, surely.’
    ‘Not necessarily. Not if Mistress Burnett were to be convinced that he really is her brother.’
    ‘But she probably doesn’t wish to be