The next morning Bertie received a call from Professor Ben Hynes, a former colleague of Samuel, who had bought his books.
Bertie explained about Irene’s interest in Samuel’s journals and gave the man her contact information. He said he would contact her.
Just over an hour later, Irene called to inform Bertie that she and the Professor had agreed to meet at his home at one o’clock, to sort through the journals, and she hoped Bertie could go with her.
“I’ll pick you up at one-thirty,” Bertie told her.
They arrived at the Professor’s house a few minutes early. He met them at the door and led them into his living room where there were stacks of boxes piled everywhere.
He waved a hand. “The boxes on the far side are all books,” he said. “Sam once said he’d like them to go to the university so they will be donated in his name.”
“At your expense,” Bertie said. “That’s very generous of you, Professor.”
“I got the entire collection at a bargain,” he replied. “Few people are interested in old books these days.” He smiled and pointed to a smaller pile of boxes. “These eight boxes here are all journals. I don’t yet know their contents.”
Bertie nodded. “So how do you suggest we do this?”
“I thought if we take a box each and begin sorting through them, the work would go much faster.”
“I agree.” Bertie looked at Irene.
“I’m sure that would work quite well,” she agreed.
“Then shall we get started? We’ll set aside any journal labelled genealogy, ancestry or family history and return the rest to the boxes. Is that okay?”
Both women nodded their agreement and they all set to work. Nearly ninety minutes later the Professor called a halt to the process and invited his guests to join him in the kitchen for a short break away from the dust; they chatted as they shared coffee and tea buns. “I have a friend a few blocks away, whose wife is always baking something,” he explained. “They can’t possibly eat it all themselves so, they share with their friends and neighbours.”
Three hours later, the Professor saw them off. Irene had six of Samuel’s journals clutched tightly in her arms and was very anxious to get home and start reading them.
“I hope you find what you’re looking for,” he said to her. “Will you keep me informed?”
Irene nodded and smiled at him. “I certainly will.”
“You had better keep me informed too,” Bertie said as they drove away. “You know I’m curious about all this.”
Irene laughed. “I do… and I will.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
