9 BATTLE READY
“Quick thinking back there, Claude,” Gee said, as he danced from brick to brick of our apartment block’s foyer floor.
“Thanks,” I replied, peeking inside the post box to see if there was anything other than another monstrous bill inside. Sadly not. “I told you I was good with words.”
“You, my friend, have the gift of gab,” Gee said. “And now, thanks to you”—he stretched his arms out wide—“I’m freer than a bird in the sky.”
I bowed as I approached the flight of stairs. Like a tightrope walker, I balanced along the stairs, not touching the railings on either side, which I was certain hadn’t been cleaned since before the First World War. “I’m still bleak that I didn’t inherit anything and it had all been a scam. Even in death, Missus Beryl made sure that she wouldn’t give
