Abby, Two
Copyright© 2019 by Old Man with a Pen
Chapter 37
She did the math in her head.
“Two hundred thirty three million, three hundred thirty three thousand, three hundred thirty three dollars and thirty three cents ... a year?”
“Pounds ... not dollars.”
Mrs. Morris had money ... was money ... old money, of course she knew the day’s exchange. 1.78au a pound. Or ... the other conversion... 58 cents.
“A year?”
She flushed ... I recognised the symptoms ... took her arm ... and directed her halting steps to a chair. A sturdy chair. We made it.
“Alice?”
Alice had been watching. She was on the spot with a cold, damp towel and a glass of tepid water.
“Hi ... I’m Alice,” Alice said. “I’m Abbie’s sister.” She noticed ‘that’ look. “I grew up with Abby ... she’s the only sister I’ve got.
“Take it slow with the water ... little sips. Abby? Brandy?”
I fetched. Daddy keeps a bottle of Richard Hennessy for occasions. I figured this was one. A splash in a snifter. Mrs Morris had an educated nose.
“Oh my god...” A sip. “That’s possibly the best brandy I ever tasted.” She ruminated... “Hennessy...” she looked at the bottle. “Richard ... that’s eight thousand a bottle.”
I almost dropped it. When I finally stopped coughing, I said, rather lamely, “Daddy likes it. Buys it by the shipper.”
A case is 6 bottles ... a shipper is six cases.
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