It was done. Father was buried, the will had been read and Charles was now sat in his father’s old study, trying to make sense of the household accounts. Which apparently, according to his lawyers, was the first thing that needed to be attended to, now he was in charge.
It was no use however. Charles was many things, but an accountant he was not and he was being hampered by his father’s arcane calligraphy to boot. He rang for Smythes. After ten minutes he rang again for Smythes. Eventually the door opened and the lurching Butler entered.
“You rang sir?”
“I rang twice Smythes in fact, were you busy?” Charles replied dryly.
“Yes, I was in the attics sir, the boy had to run and get me. My sincere apologies.” Smythes responded, matching his new masters arid tone.
Charles paused for a moment before responding.
“The attics? What were you doing up there? I made no requests for anyone to be in the attics.”
“Absolutely sir. It was one of your Father’s final requests to me. There were some, er loose ends that required tying. I am nearly finished, it will not impact my service to you after today.”