“This is in quite poor order,” George said, frowning. “It’s probably not worth trying to salvage, since you have tenants. It’s not as though you’re storing any grain. You’d be better off demolishing it. You can always build a new one, if you ever decided to start farming any of this land yourself in the future. Do you think you might want to do that? If you were unable to find a buyer, I mean?”
“Not a cat in hell’s chance,” Theo muttered. George had only just started looking around, and already it seemed depressingly clear to Theo that his only realistic option was to find a buyer willing to take this place off his hands, warts and all. If that meant he had to sell at a rock-bottom price, he would likely just have to live with that
George’s eyebrows rose, but all he said was, “Let’s take a look at the barn.”
On the way over, he paused to examine the well, noting in his little book that the rope for the bucket needed to be replaced. Nothing escaped his sharp eye.
Finally, they entered the barn. Theo had assumed it would be empty—he hadn’t even looked at it on his first visit here—but as his eyes grew used to the gloom inside, he saw that the barn contained all sorts of equipment. Scythes and grass sickles, flails for threshing, three-pronged forks and wide rakes. There were other things too, which he could not identify. Most of them looked like they needed to be harnessed to a horse, which probably meant they had something to do with either planting or harvesting crops.
The equipment was, at least, stored neatly. Some tools hung on hooks on the wall, while other items were piled up in corners of the barn. It mostly appeared to be mercifully rust-free, and George looked a bit more cheerful as he took a quick inventory of it.
“These tools are in fairly good condition,” he said when he was done. “How long is it since your uncle farmed the land himself?”
Theo considered that, trying to recall what he’d been told. “I think the solicitor said he brought in the tenants around ten years ago, after he became unwell.” It was lucky his uncle had done that, Theo realised. He was struggling enough as it was taking over as a landlord. He wouldn’t have had the first idea what to do if he’d had to farm this place himself when he inherited.
“Hmm,” George said. “Well, someone’s been taking care of this equipment. Perhaps the tenants have been using it? Speaking of which.” He tucked his notebook away. “Shall we go and see them?”
“What?” Theo said, blinking in surprise.
“Your tenants,” George said. “Shall we go and see them?”
“You want to meet them?”
George frowned and smiled at the same time, as though he wasn’t sure Theo was being serious. “Yes,” he said, in a tone that indicated this was very obvious indeed, and surely Theo must know this.
But Theo didn’t know it, and he didn't relish the thought of repeating this exercise. On his first visit to Blackfriars, he’d gone to meet each of his tenants, and both interviews had been frankly excruciating. The Morgans, a young couple, had barely said a word to him, seeming entirely over-awed. The visit to Robert Martin, the older bachelor who leased the smaller of the two farms, had been even worse. Martin had already written to Theo, before he’d even returned to England, a carefully penned letter with some misspellings, listing the repairs that were needed to the estate and asking that Theo give these his earliest attention.
Unfortunately, by the time Theo read his letter, he’d already given a bank draft for most of the rent he’d received on his return to England to Redford’s to pay for a year of membership fees. And so, when Theo had gone to see Robert Martin, it had been in the knowledge that he was already in the man's bad books—and for good reason. Martin’s gaze had been hostile, even as he’d mouthed polite words of greeting. After two minutes of small talk, he’d bluntly asked Theo what he intended to do about the repairs.
“Give me a chance to find my feet,” Theo had said with a chuckle. “I've not yet been back in England a month!”
It had been an unforgivably flippant response, he had to own, but he hadn’t known what else to say. Martin’s disgusted expression still haunted him.
By the next morning, he’d been on his way back to London, leaving his luggage behind. He’d come to Blackfriars by coach thinking he’d be staying a while, only to leave a matter of days later, punishing himself with a gruelling ride back to London.
The meeting with Robert Martin had, undeniably, been very far from his finest hour. Even now, he felt that same wash of hot shame whenever he thought of it.
“Why do you want to meet the tenants?” he said now, trying not to wince at the brief flash of incredulity in George’s gaze.
“Well,” George said, his voice taking on an excruciatingly patient tone. “It would be helpful to see what crops they are growing, what animals they’re raising, the state of upkeep, that sort of thing.”
“Won’t the ledgers tell you that?”
“Not quite,” George said. “They will have some helpful information, I’m sure, but we need to see what’s actually happening.” Frowning, he added, “Theo, is there some difficulty here I’m not seeing?”
Theo forced a smile. “No,” he said. “Of course not. I just wanted to understand the purpose of these visits.”
George’s brow cleared. “Good,” he said, then offered Theo a gentle smile. “And I’m glad you’re asking questions. I apologise if I keep making assumptions about how much you know. That must be irritating.”
Theo felt like a heel. Here he was, trying to avoid meeting his tenants because of his own shameful inadequacy, and George was the one apologising to him.
“Not at all,” he said briskly. “Let’s go now. We’ll visit the Morgans first. They’re closest.”
“So,” George said as they approached the Morgans’ farmhouse. “Do Mr. and Mrs. Morgan have children?”
Theo blinked, discombobulated by George’s question. “I think so,” he said, vaguely.
“You don’t know?” George said, sounding surprised.
