Chapter 17: Chapter 17

Mrs Chittering arrived as promised. They saw her through one of the front windows

as she approached.

'Right on time, Mrs Chittering'' cried Pryor. ''I believe you will be delighted with the

property I have to show you, and also I have negotiated an extremely low price.

There are plenty of bedrooms a large kitchen and a room big enough for dining.

How it has not been snapped up as a boarding house before this I will never

understand. If you are ready we'll take a Cab and go straight there.

Not until the cabby stopped his horse outside the premises did Mrs Chittering realise

that Pryor intended to sell her a shabby, run down pub.

''Mr Pryor,'' she said, in a dangerously quiet voice, ''Are you mocking me? You know

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my views on alcohol and public houses. They are abominations, snares to catch the

working man, to addle his brains, to take his money which should have rightfully gone

to his wife and children. Take me back to my lodgings and I will not trouble you any

further.''

''No, Mrs Chittering, I am not mocking you but offering you a chance to strike a mighty

blow against the breweries and publicans that lead working men to drunkeness. The

proprietor of this hotel wishes to retire and has been discussing its future with other

publicans. There are plans afoot to refurbish the premises. There is also talk of a

'Ladies' Lounge' where women could go and spend their housekeeping, and neglect

their children while drinking beer and spirits.''

Mrs Chittering seemed shaken by the mention of a 'Ladies' Lounge' so Mr Pryor

pressed on. 'This is a wonderful opportunity for you, Mrs Chittering. Not only will you

buy a asset that can only increase in value, ideal for transformation to a profitable

boarding house for single gentlemen who otherwise might be obliged to take rooms

in a hotel, and we know what that leads to. Looked at in that light it is almost a public

duty to buy the building to rescue your single gentlemen from temptation to sin. And

don't forget the young women who might be lured into the Ladies' Lounge, to their

ruin.

After hearing all this Mrs Chittering's first reaction of anger and indigation seemed to

have passed and she mildly enquired the price

'Six hundred pounds.''

''That's a lot of money for an old and shabby place like this. I'm not wealthy, you

know. Judging from the outside it would cost just as much to clean and furnish it, and

I haven't got that sort of money.

''No problem, Mrs Chittering, if you are able to put down the purchase price The

Melbourne and London Amicable Building Society can lend you enough to refurbish

the building to a very high standard. Shall we go in and have a look round.

Mr Pryor had a key to the hotel, which was closed, He had insisted that Mr and Mrs

Fogarty should be absent and the hotel closed for business while the inspection took

place.

They were not there but had neglected to tell their most faithful customer that no

drinks would be served that day.

The old man was waiting indignantly outside the locked front door. ''Where's

Fogarty?'' he demanded ''If he's feeling crook his missus orta open the pub for him. I

suppose her nerves are playin’ up again.''

''It's alright, Cyril. They'll be back this afternoon. But for now the place is closed''

''If it's closed why are you goin' in? Brought yer girl friend, too, 'ave yer. She looks as if

she could knock back a few pots. If she can get a drink why can't I?''

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Mr Pryor managed to lock Cyril outside on the footpath while getting Mrs Chittering

inside. Her eyes were closed and a scented handkerchief was pressed against her

nose. ''The stench of beer in this building is almost overpowering,'' she muttered

''You can have it fumigated, that should do the trick. Then leave all the windows open

when the painters and decorators move in.''

''It needs painting everywhere. I have never seen such a neglected building. If the

bedrooms you speak of are as bad as what I see before me then the price you

mentioned is laughably high.''

''Admittedly it needs work,'' responded Pryor. ''That is why the price is so low. Once

painted it would double in value. A tasteful colour scheme and good management

would make it a highly profitable business. Come, we'll go and look at the 'Long

Room', which would make an ideal dining room, and after that, the kitchen.

Mrs Chittering saw at a glance that he was right. The 'Long room' would make an

excellent dining room.

''It's too far from the kitchen,'' she complained. By the time the girls brought the

plates upstairs the food would be cold.''

''Not a bit of it, Mrs Chittering. Have a look at this.'' He led her to the wall in which

there was a door that looked like a wall cupboard He then drew her attention to a

winding handle set in the wall. It was similar to the handle of a mangle or a mincer.

''Watch!'' He pulled the door open and there was nothing inside but darkness And a

shaft that led to somewhere below. He started to wind the handle. Moments later a

platform the size of the shaft rose into view. It carried six large dinner plates which,

by arrangement, had been placed there the night before.

''There you are, Mrs Chittering, that shaft goes directly to the kitchen The kitchen staff

down there can load six plates at a time. They ring a bell and seconds later your

boarders are getting their nice hot dinners.

Mrs Chittering was impressed but complained about the state of the long neglected

kitchen and of the twenty rooms they discovered upstairs and down all available for

tenants, including four larger ones suitable for married couples. She was still saying

that the price was too high. ''Saving drinkers from themselves or young women from

the 'Ladies' Lounge is all very well, But I still have a living to make.'' The price Pryor

had quoted her, as well as the unknown cost of repairs and decorating would drive

her to bankruptcy.

She was still complaining when Mr Pryor and the cab left her at the door of her

lodgings. He went back to the office.

'How's the head?' enquired Gabriel as he came throgh the door.

''Still intact,'' said Pryor. She didn't belt me with umbrella even once. She's back in her

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room now, and I guess she's counting up the costs and income involved. My own

reckoning is, with good management, the place could turn in a clear profit of betwen

ten and thirty pounds a week, and she's the lady that can make it true.

I think she'll come round tomorrow and tell me the place is far too dear. And I'll tell

her that the publicans are moving in, ready to make a generous offer. If she can't

make up her mind she could well lose the bargain of a lifetime.

''Gabriel chuckled. Well done, James, we'll make a salesman of you yet,''

''You know,'' said Pryor, ''I think it's time we had a little party to mark the beginning

of our partnership. We could invite the Taylors to have dinner with us in a nice

restaurant somewhere.''

''Sounds a good idea, but there are two things I should mention. One is that the

Reverend can't invest in any of your schemes, Pointing out errors in Darwin's Theory

of Evolution is not a profitable occupation, so he has no money to spare. Secondly, if

this is part of a plot to steal Amy from me I'll get my own back. I'll tell Henrietta that

the publicans have no interest in the pub. in fact no one wants it, and she is not to pay

a penny more than four hundred pounds.She'll be so grateful she would probably lend

me her umbrella, and I could deal out further punishment.''

''These are grave threats,'' said Mr Pryor and I must heed them. I hereby renounce my

love for Miss Taylor, one because she is not a rich heiress, and two because she has a

clear preference for you. Why she should prefer you to me I cannot explain, but then

women are mysterious creatures. However the dinner or lunch is still on and we will

confer with the Taylors to see when they are free.''

''Now, to other business. Did that man, Pringle, come to see you about a job as head

clerk?''

''Yes, we had an interesting conversation, with references from former employers,

and I thought he would suit us very well. Do you want to talk to him?''

''No, I accept your judgment, he can start Monday as head clerk.

''Well, he'll be head clerk in the sense that he is the only one.''

The partners discovered that Mr Taylor's lecture tour was such a success that it was

difficult to pin him down to an invitation for lunch.

His belief of a definite date for the creation of the universe was based on the labours

of Bishop Ussher, Primate of Ireland in the eighteenth century. The bishop was a

formidable scholar and had studied the lives and times of all persons mentioned in

the old and new testaments. He compared these with known dates of ancient history

and established, beyond doubt, that the world was created on the 23rd of August

4004 BC which, of course, was a Monday.

After Bishop Ussher brought these remarkable facts to light many bibles, during the

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ensuing centuries, were published with what printers called a 'gutter' running down

the centre of each page. This 'gutter' contained the dates on which various great

events took place, including creation. It also carried information and commentary on

the text of that page. The Reverend Mr Taylor had such a bible and used it frequently

to settle arguments.