Free To Cut a Long Story Short (2000) by Jeffrey Archer

Cornelius. Or perhaps half the truth.
    ‘Cornelius, you’ve always been the clever one in the family,’ Margaret said, with tears welling up in her eyes. ‘Surely you can think of a way out of this
dilemma.’
    Cornelius paced around the kitchen as if in deep thought, his sister watching his every step. Eventually he came to a halt in front of her. ‘I do believe I may have a solution.’
    ‘What is it?’ cried Margaret. ‘I’ll agree to anything.’
    ‘Anything?’
    ‘Anything,’ she repeated.
    ‘Good, then I’ll tell you what I’ll do,’ said Cornelius. ‘I’ll pay for the picture in exchange for your new car.’
    Margaret remained speechless for some time. ‘But the car cost me PS12,000,’ she said finally.
    ‘Possibly, but you wouldn’t get more than eight thousand for it second-hand.’
    ‘But then how would I get around?’
    ‘Try the bus,’ said Cornelius. ‘I can recommend it. Once you’ve mastered the timetable it changes your whole life.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘In fact, you
could start right now; there’s one due in about ten minutes.’
    ‘But …’ said Margaret as Cornelius stretched out his open hand. Then, letting out a long sigh, she opened her handbag and passed the car keys over to her brother.
    ‘Thank you,’ said Cornelius. ‘Now I mustn’t hold you up any longer, or you’ll miss the bus, and there won’t be another one along for thirty minutes.’ He
led his sister out of the kitchen and down the corridor. He smiled as he opened the door for her.
    ‘And don’t forget to pick up the picture from Mr Botts, my dear,’ he said. ‘It will look wonderful over the fireplace in your drawing room, and will bring back so many
happy memories of our times together.’
    Margaret didn’t comment as she turned to walk off down the long drive.
    Cornelius closed the door and was about to go to his study and call Frank to brief him on what had taken place that morning when he thought he heard a noise coming from the kitchen. He changed
direction and headed back down the corridor. He walked into the kitchen, went over to the sink, bent down and kissed Pauline on the cheek.
    ‘Good morning, Pauline,’ he said.
    ‘What’s that for?’ she asked, her hands immersed in soapy water.
    ‘For bringing my son back home.’
    ‘It’s only on loan. If you don’t behave yourself, it goes straight back to my place.’
    Cornelius smiled. ‘That reminds me - I’d like to take you up on your original offer.’
    ‘What are you talking about, Mr Barrington?’
    ‘You told me that you’d rather work off the debt than have to sell your car.’ He removed her cheque from an inside pocket. ‘I know just how many hours you’ve worked
here over the past month,’ he said, tearing the cheque in half, ‘so let’s call it quits.’
    ‘That’s very kind of you, Mr Barrington, but I only wish you’d told me that before I sold the car.’
    ‘That’s not a problem, Pauline, because I find myself the proud owner of a new car.’
    ‘But how?’ asked Pauline as she began to dry her hands.
    ‘It was an unexpected gift from my sister,’ Cornelius said, without further explanation.
    ‘But you don’t drive, Mr Barrington.’
    ‘I know. So I’ll tell you what I’ll do,’ said Cornelius. ‘I’ll swap it for the picture of Daniel.’
    ‘But that’s not a fair exchange, Mr Barrington. I only paid PS50 for the picture, and the car must be worth far more.’
    ‘Then you’ll also have to agree to drive me into town from time to time.’
    ‘Does that mean I’ve got my old job back?’
    ‘Yes - if you’re willing to give up your new one.’
    ‘I don’t have a new one,’ said Pauline with a sigh. ‘They found someone a lot younger than me the day before I was due to begin.’
    Cornelius threw his arms around her.
    ‘And we’ll have less of that for a start, Mr Barrington.’
    Cornelius took a pace back. ‘Of course you can have your old job back, and with a rise in