THE WAY IT IS London/Paris 1888–9
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
CHAPTER FIFTY
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
KEEP READING …
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
BOOKS BY BARBARA TAYLOR BRADFORD
ABOUT THE PUBLISHER
THE FALCONERS
Philip Henry Rosewood Falconer, founder of the dynasty; a head butler.
Esther Marie Falconer, his wife and co-founder of the dynasty; a head housekeeper.
Their sons
Matthew, his eldest son and heir; a stall owner at the Malvern Market.
George, a noted journalist on The Chronicle daily newspaper.
Harry, a chef and owner of a café, the Rendezvous.
Their grandchildren (Matthew’s offspring)
James Lionel, an ambitious young businessman on the rise.
Rosalind, known as Rossi, a seamstress.
Edward Albert, assistant to his father on the stalls.
Their daughter-in-law
Maude Falconer, Matthew’s wife and mother of his children; a seamstress.
THE VENABLES
Clarence Venables, Esther Falconer’s brother-in-law, great-uncle of James Falconer. Owner of a shipping company in Hull.
Marina Venables, Clarence’s wife and younger sister of Esther Falconer. Great-aunt of James Falconer. A noted artist.
Their children
William, eldest son and heir, working at the Hull shipping company.
Albert, second son, working at the Hull shipping company.
Their daughter-in-law
Anne Venables, Albert’s wife.
THE MALVERNS
Henry Ashton Malvern, owner of the Malvern Company, a big business enterprise and property company.
Alexis Malvern, his only child and heir; a partner in the business.
Joshua Malvern, Henry’s brother and business partner in London.
Percy Malvern, his cousin who runs the wine business in Le Havre.
THE TREVALIANS
Sebastian Trevalian, head of the Trevalian private bank.
His daughters
Claudia, his eldest daughter and heir.
Lavinia, a debutante.
Marietta, a debutante.
His sister
Dorothea Trevalian Rayburn, an art collector and member of the bank’s board.
His son-in-law
Cornelius Glendenning, Claudia’s husband, a banker.
THE CARPENTERS
Lord Reginald Carpenter, publishing tycoon and proprietor of The Chronicle.
Lady Jane Cadwalander Carpenter, his wife.
Their daughters
Jasmine, a debutante.
Lilah, a debutante.
James Lionel Falconer, commonly called Jimmy by everyone except his grandmother, was out of breath. He came to a sudden stop in the middle of the road going towards Camden Lock. The wheelbarrow he was pushing was heavy and grew heavier by the minute, at least so it seemed to him. He rested for a few seconds, leaning against the barrow, trying to catch his breath.
It was Thursday 12 June 1884, and last month, in late May, he had celebrated his fourteenth birthday. He felt very grown up now. After all, he had been working with his father at their stalls in Henry Malvern’s covered market in London’s Camden Town since he was eight. That was part-time until he was ten, when he began to go there every day. He loved the haggling, the negotiating, the wheeling and dealing about prices, just as much as his father did.
His father called him ‘my clever lad’, which pleased Jimmy. He admired his father, endeavoured to emulate him. Matthew Falconer, who was thirty-seven, dressed neatly to go to work, and so did Jimmy. His father never forgot to ask his regulars how members of their families were, and neither did Jimmy. It had been inculcated in him.
Even his grandmother, Esther Falconer, had noticed, since his early childhood, how he copied his father in most things. It frequently brought a smile to her face, and sometimes she even gave him a threepenny bit for being a good boy. She told him to save it for a rainy day. He did. He paid great attention to her.
Straightening, blowing out air, Jimmy picked up the two handles and started pushing the barrow once more. He walked at an even pace, knowing that this main road got a bit higher after it branched off on both sides.
He stayed on the main road, puffing a bit harder, perspiring; it was a warm day. He was almost at the market when he experienced a sharp, stabbing pain in his chest, and came to an abrupt stop, startled by the intensity of the pain.
Holding onto the handles of the barrow tightly, he kept himself upright even though he thought he might fall over anyway. Slowly, the pain subsided. He was still short of breath; sweat covered his face. He couldn’t imagine what was wrong with him.
