A Genuine Mistake by Ted Tayler (miss read books txt) 📗

from the school football, rugby, and cricket teams, but we became friends. I invited him to my twelfth birthday party, and Gerry returned the favour eight weeks later. So it continued. Gerry and I both lived in the town. We bumped into one another at the youth club on Mason’s Lane, cycled around the local villages watching the girls go by as the song said. We survived those awkward early teenage years, and when around a quarter of us returned to the sixth form to study A-Levels, Gerry and I found ourselves in the same common room. He chose Maths, Economics, and Geography, while I opted for History, English, and Geography. They couldn’t keep us apart for the entire two years. Barrett and Hogan. Batman and Robin. We both got A’s across the board. We put in the work and got our reward. I remember telling DI Kirkpatrick when I spoke to him six years ago that Gerry was like me in that regard. He had his heart set on a particular career, and nothing was going to stop him. There were always distractions, from students who wanted to smoke, drink, and get up to all kinds of mischief. They would have deflected us from our goal. Sometimes Gerry kept me on the straight and narrow, that’s for sure.”

“You didn’t have the same reasons for wanting to achieve your goal, did you, sir?” said Gus.

Barrett finished a second Bourbon and picked up a Garibaldi.

“You see through me, Mr Freeman,” he sighed. “I would have chosen the arts, music, drama, perhaps. My father sat here in this chair and his father before him. I had no choice but to pursue a career in law.”

“You both did exceptionally well in your A-Levels,” said Gus. “That must have opened more options in your choice of university. Yet Gerry went just up the road to Bristol to study Business and Finance.”

“Bristol is still in the top five UK universities at which to study Law, Mr Freeman. It wasn’t a rash choice. Gerry and I learned to drive with the same instructor, bought cars from the same second-hand lot, and took it in turns to drive backwards and forwards. That’s not to say we didn’t immerse ourselves in the undergraduate experience. We certainly did that. Not for the first time, Gerry came to my rescue when I was in danger of falling foul of the law.”

“After you graduated, did you come straight here to work with your father?” asked Gus. “Was there a room available for you upstairs?”

“This firm was in transition, Mr Freeman,” said Barrett. “When my grandfather opened the doors here on Head Street, he covered anything and everything. Of course, legislation was quite different a century ago, and when my father replaced Joseph as head of the firm, he tried to adjust to the changing times. By the time I arrived here from Bristol, he had specialised. We still handled criminal cases in those days, but the crime rate in a small country town does not keep the wolf from the door. I could tell that our future looked bleak unless we modernised and specialised. My father and I disagreed on that matter, so when Gerry told me of his plans after we’d graduated, I was only too glad to accompany him on his travels.”

“You went to Australia for a gap year together then?” asked Gus.

“We did, and what an eventful nine months that was,” said Barrett.

“Perhaps you can tell us more in a moment, sir,” said Gus. “What happened while you were away?”

“My father was part of the furniture here with Barrett’s from the early 1950s, working alongside my grandfather. Joseph Senior passed in 1978 while I was at university. So, as you can see, Joseph Junior had had only had a couple of years at the helm. He’d been in the shadow of his father for so long that when the full glare of the spotlight fell on him, it soon became apparent that he wasn’t up to the task. Clients who had been with us for years moved elsewhere. Large companies closed as imports crippled our industrial base. The writing was on the wall. The firm was on the brink of collapse, and my father did the only thing he could. He invited Bruce Atkins to join the firm. Bruce is a very able chap in the industrial accident and personal injury field.”

“Where there’s blame, there’s a claim,” said Gus.

“A crude description of what Bruce does, Mr Freeman. We’re not ambulance chasers like those on the other side of the Atlantic. When I returned from my backpacking adventure, I found the new partnership was a fait accompli. My father was in his mid-fifties and not in the best of health. I couldn’t argue with the decision to adjust the range of services we offered, but I could see that Bruce was only a sticking plaster that would keep us afloat for two, maybe three years. I could also see that my father wasn’t the right person to drive the firm's necessary changes. I persuaded him to step aside so that I could search for another partner. One who specialised in another area that offered the possibilities of a steady income stream.”

“Natalie Flook, I assume,” said Gus.

“No, Natalie only became a partner ten years ago. Fergus Dillon occupied Room Three upstairs from the early Eighties until he retired.”

“From what I can tell in the time I’ve been here, the adjustments you’ve made appear to have worked,” said Gus. “The firm is in a far healthier state than when you took charge.”

“One does one’s best, Mr Freeman.

“We know that Gerry Hogan returned from Australia only weeks before Evelyn flew to join him. You were their best man, weren’t you? Did anyone rush from the other side of the world to meet up with you following your adventures?”

“Look at me, Mr Freeman,” said