A Bad Feeling

Tom Branson entered the door of the London home he shared with his wife and three children took off his coat and hat and headed for the kitchen to get a drink of water. It was early July 1929 and it had been a long day at the British Parliament. His job as press secretary to the Labor Party kept him busy with long hours and meetings to discuss Party policy on any new developments. Today's session had created uproar and he was sure the international press would be full of it. Normally Parliament would be adjourned for July, but this year the financial upheaval of the Hatry Affair had changed matters. When he entered the kitchen he found his wife, Sybil preparing a salad for part of their evening meal.

"You look tired," Sybil commented as he dropped a kiss on her cheek before he went to fill a glass with water.

"It was a long day," he replied with a sigh. "That fool Lord Snowden from the securities exchange made a statement today that could have some dire consequences. Parliament is in an uproar and the press is on it like a pack of wolves."

"What did he say?" Sybil inquired.

"He equated the New York stock exchange with "a perfect orgy of speculation". With the Hatry Affair breaking last month, I think things are only going to get worse. We can release all the statements we like. I don't think they'll do much good. The country is headed for hard economic times. The writing is on the wall."

"I'm just glad my father signed this house over to me before he lost the bulk of Mama's money last year. At least we don't owe anything."

"No, we don't. Which is fortunate. I think you should move your settlement funds though. Don't keep everything in one bank. Just in case."

"You think things are going to get that bad?" Sybil asked with a frown. She had stopped what she was doing and looked directly at Tom.

"I hope not, but moving things around a bit couldn't hurt."

"I'll take care of it tomorrow. The money hasn't been earning any interest this last year or two. I was thinking of keeping some cash in the safe. It's not like I use the safe for my jewels like Granny did," Sybil said with a small frown. "It's time to get the boys from their friends down the street."

"I'll go and I'll take Merilee with me. Where is she?"

"Playing in the garden." Sybil went to the door and called their now six-year-old daughter inside. Merilee flew in the door and launched herself at her father. She was the image of her mother and was every bit the Daddy's girl her mother had been at the same age.

"Look, Da, I found a caterpillar," she said, proudly holding up her prize in front of his nose so that his eyes crossed.

"Lovely, Darlin' and what is his name?"

"Tom."

"That's a funny name for a caterpillar," her father replied with a smile as he carried her to the door. "Where's your hat?"

"Oh, Da," Merilee complained as they headed out to the garden, "I don't like to wear a hat."

Sybil just shook her head. Of their three children Merilee was the most like her father, neither one of them liked to wear a hat and she had her father's tenacity. Riordan the eldest was the thinker and had inherited his parent's love of books, while Jay their middle child was like his mother in personality and his father in looks. Jay's real name was James Thomas but it had quickly got shortened to J.T. and then Jay.

Sybil finished preparing their cold meal and headed to the front of the house to collect the afternoon post. There were three letters waiting for her and she took them to the back garden to read the news from the family.

The first was a letter from her mother saying her parents had settled into the Dower House well. After the loss of the majority of the entail due to a bad investment, her mother had been the most flexible and least concerned. They had managed to retain ownership of the Dower House and the estate but the Abbey was rented as were the lands of the estate to pay creditors. Her mother was making due without servants quite well. She had asked Sybil for advice a number of times on running a house without regular help. Her father had managed to retain enough funds for them to have a housekeeper in twice a week but the splendor and opulence Sybil had been raised with were a thing of the past. The letter included an invitation for Sybil and the children to come for a visit over the summer.

The second letter was from her sister Edith. Edith was perfectly happy married to Sir Anthony Strallen and occupied with the details of running his estate. She mentioned their sister Mary and wondered if Sybil had seen her in London as she had left over a week ago. Sybil strongly suspected Mary and her husband Matthew were having difficulties. Mary had taken the loss of the family fortune the hardest. Every time Sybil had seen her over the last year, she complained bitterly about the lack of servants and had flown off the handle with Sybil when she pointed out they had not had any live in help since Merilee was two years old and their last nursemaid had returned to Ireland. Her attitude and comments towards Sybil's husband had reverted to what they were when they first married. From her mother and Edith's letters Sybil gathered Mary was making more and more trips to London. No one seemed to know where she went or whom she was spending her time with. Sybil felt for Matthew, but it was best she stay out of it.

The third letter was from Rory. Colleen had given birth to their first child, a little girl. They were naming her Kathleen. They had decided to move to Listowel so Rory could be closer to the community hospital. There were now three doctors in the rural area of Ireland where they lived, but Rory was the only certified surgeon available to the hospital. He was going to the Tralee hospital once a week to assist with surgery there as well. Their new place had running water and electricity but they were missing their first place in Ballybunion. One of the local women was staying with them until Colleen was back on her feet. Rory had given in and finally bought a motorcycle to get around, although Colleen didn't care for it much.

Sybil sighed when she read his letter. She was glad for Rory that his life was going well, but she missed him. He had become a big part of their lives and the two of them shared a special bond. The man Rory was now, had little resemblance to the wounded boy she had first met. The last time they had been to visit she had assisted him with two emergency calls and a birth. In some ways he was very like her husband and in other ways they were completely different. They both had easy going personalities with an excess of charm that allowed them to move between and the aristocratic world and a working class one with ease. As well Rory had a drive and determination that rivaled Tom's. Tom was a true city boy whereas Rory loved the country and his menagerie of animals was constantly growing. Tom always looked to the big picture of politics and effecting change on a large scale while Rory was content to put his talent to use to help individuals.

It wasn't long before Tom and the children were back and the children ran in the house to get washed up before their evening meal.

"There's a letter from Rory," Sybil told Tom as they followed the children in the house. "They had a little girl."

"That's good news," Tom replied.

"Mama wrote as well, she'd like us to visit this summer. Do you think you can get anytime off?"

"I should be able to get some time at the beginning of August. Why don't you go up to see your parents with the children? I could come up and join you then we'll go to Ireland and visit the folks."

"That sounds like a fine idea," Sybil replied, placing a quick kiss on the side of his mouth.

"What was that for?"

"For being the best husband I could have ever found," Sybil said slipping her arms around his waist.

"Sorry you kept me waiting for an entire year?" Tom couldn't resist teasing Sybil about her indecision in the early part of their relationship.

"Good things come to those who wait," she replied, before he kissed her.

"Mumm, Da, ewwww," Jay said when he walked in on his parents.

"Are you jealous?" Tom quirked an eyebrow at his son before he grabbed him in his arms and began tickling him. Jay was hanging upside down in his father's grasp and giggling wildly.

"He just needs a few kisses," Sybil said as she placed a loud smacking kiss on her son's stomach.

The next day Sybil headed to the bank where she had an account for her settlement funds and asked to speak to her account manager. After much huffing and puffing on the part of the account manager and questioning Sybil as to why she wished to withdraw five thousand pounds in cash, the account manager finally relented and had Sybil escorted to her car by a bank guard with the money securely in her bag. When she returned to the house she placed the funds in the safe and locked it. The safe hadn't been used in years and had become a favorite plaything of the boys who regularly played cops and robbers with Merilee standing in front of the safe pretending to have been robbed.

That evening once the children were in bed Sybil broached the topic of her settlement with her husband.

"I went to the bank today," she told him while chewing her bottom lip. "I withdrew twenty percent of my money and put it in the safe."

"I just meant that you should diversify it amongst more than one bank. I didn't mean for you to put it under the mattress," Tom said as he was getting ready for bed.

"There was something odd about the account manager. I don't know what exactly. I remember going with my father when I was young to withdraw funds. He never had any problem withdrawing funds like I did today."

"That doesn't sound good, but he could have been giving you problems because you're a woman."

"Perhaps," Sybil said pausing. "After all these years don't you want to know how much I have left from the settlement? It's gained a little from interest over the years. Other than paying for the cars I've never touched it."

"If it makes you happy to tell me then do so. I've never cared about the money, but I do want you protected."

"Alright," Sybil said taking Tom's hand. "I put five thousand in the safe here at the house today." She paused to let her words sink in. "There is just over twenty-one thousand pounds left in my account."

The look on her husband's face was one of pure shock. His mouth dropped open and he moved to sit on the side of the bed.

"I thought it was maybe a few thousand at the most," he gasped out finally. "How much was the original check for?"

"Twenty thousand."

"God Lord. I assume your sister's would have received equivalent amounts?"

Sybil nodded.

"Begging my pardon for saying so, but what did your eldest sister do with that kind of money to be complaining nowadays?"

"I have no idea. I assume she spent it. It wouldn't be hard to do. We don't live the kind of lifestyle she desires."

"No, but we don't live one of abject poverty either. Well, it's neither here nor there. The important thing is that you protect yourself and the children. If you're not happy with the bank then move the funds. If you're content to leave it alone then do so."

"That's just it. I think I want to move it all to the safe here at the house. After I got back today I was thinking of having the combination changed on the safe. Too many people know the present combination or at least they used to. If I have it changed then just you and I would know the combination. Even if the house burned to the ground the safe and it's contents would remain intact. There was something just not right at the bank."

"Sybil, that's a big step. Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," she replied. "I trust you but I don't trust the bank."

"And here all this time I thought you just wanted me for my paycheck," he teased.

"If that's what you want to call it," she replied with a devilish grin as she pushed him onto his back and finished pulling off his clothes.