The Further Adventures of Ebenezer Scrooge by Charlie Lovett Page A

Mrs. Crosse, “we were only just bemoaning your absence. Your arrival could not have been more propitious.”
    â€œMrs. Crosse is one of our very best clients,” said Mr. Portly.
    â€œOne of their very wealthiest clients, he means,” said Mrs. Crosse with a laugh. “I’m afraid, Mr. Scrooge, you’ll find me quite inept when it comes to the old stricture against talking about money. I have quite a lot of it, and, as I’m sure your friends here will tell you, there are days on which I talk of little else.”
    â€œYou see, Mr. Scrooge,” said Mr. Pleasant excitedly, “after our . . .”
    â€œOur adventure last night,” continued Mr. Portly.
    â€œYes,” said Mr. Pleasant. “After our adventure, we decided we would find a way to help some of those people we met and to . . .”
    â€œTo cover some of your cheques!” cried Mr. Portly.
    â€œExactly,” said Mr. Pleasant. “To cover some of your cheques.”
    â€œAnd there is no one in London more suited to the task of covering cheques than myself,” said Mrs. Crosse.
    â€œSo you see,” said Mr. Portly, “we’re forming a little society.”
    â€œThe Scrooge Society,” said Mr. Pleasant.
    â€œYes, the Scrooge Society,” continued Mr. Portly. “We’ve asked a few of our best clients.”
    â€œYour wealthiest clients,” said Mrs. Crosse with a twinkle in her eye.
    â€œAs you put it,” said Mr. Portly, “our wealthiest clients. We’ve asked them to join this society and to start a fund to be used for the relief of distress.”
    â€œWith the funds to be dispensed at the sole discretion of Mr. Ebenezer Scrooge!” cried Mr. Pleasant.
    â€œAnd when I leave, Mr. Scrooge, you shall have a thousand pounds at your disposal, so you’d best get to work, because I assure you there is more where that came from.”
    Scrooge could not hide his delight, and there followed a period of hand shaking and backslapping and Merry Christmasing such as had not been seen in that hallowed chamber for many a year (if, in fact, the eyes of the portrait above the chimneypiece had ever witnessed such a display). Scrooge agreed to dine with Messrs. Pleasant and Portly the following day to discuss the details of how the charity they had insisted on naming in his honour would be administered. For the moment, though, he said that he must be going, as he had a rather important visit to pay.
    It was past his usual luncheon time when Scrooge arrivedat his place of business, but earthly hunger had no effect on him that day. He was pleased to find the offices shut tight, and no sign that they had been occupied since the previous evening.
    Scrooge’s last visit of the day was brief. He shook no hands, slapped no backs, made no bows, and wished no one a merry anything. The street on which Timothy and Lucie Cratchit lived was, like their home, neat and modest. At two o’clock on a summer afternoon, it was empty of pedestrians, save for an old man in a colourful waistcoat strolling slowly away from the Cratchit home, a tear glistening in his eye. Scrooge had arrived at the Cratchits’ only a few moments earlier and, peeping over the garden wall, had observed his partner, Bob, on his hands and knees in the garden doing a passable impression of a lion, whilst his grandson toddled towards him. Scrooge did not watch long enough to discover if little Tim was playing the role of big game hunter or lion tamer; he had seen enough to know that his work was done.
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    S crooge half-expected another visit from Marley that evening, and sat up reading for some hours (long enough to see the young boy in the novel become a young man) before he despaired of a visit from his friend. It was nearly autumnwhen Marley did return, a night with a bite in the air cold enough that Scrooge entertained thoughts of a closed window