Only Time Will Tell (The Clifton Chronicles series Book 1)

by Jeffrey Archer

WHEN UNCLE STAN rose in the morning, he somehow managed to wake the entire household. No one complained, as he was the breadwinner in the family, and in any case he was cheaper and more reliable than an alarm clock.

He only had a wash and a shave on Saturday evenings before going off to the Palais or the Odeon. He took a bath four times a year on quarter-day. No one was going to accuse Stan of wasting his hard-earned cash on soap.

‘The questions were far too easy,’ replied Harry. Mr Holcombe felt that he had never been paid a greater compliment in his life.

‘Clifton, in life you get what you deserve, no more and certainly no less.’

Stan had perpetuated a myth that had been ignored when viewed through the eyes of an unprejudiced child.

Parents, Maisie had learnt over the years, may be considered an unfortunate necessity by their offspring, but more often than not they are also an embarrassment.

Harry would claim, years later, that I had shaped his whole life. In truth, it was he who saved mine.

he remembered asking his father why he always travelled third class, to which he had replied, ‘Because there isn’t a fourth class.’

sometimes an abundance of sympathy can be more overwhelming than solitude.

Mama is convinced that given enough time, the memory of you, like the evening sun, will fade, and then finally disappear, before heralding a new dawn.

he’d been reminded of who had given him his boundless energy, uncritical enthusiasm and a spirit that didn’t contemplate defeat. How would he ever be able to repay this remarkable woman for all the sacrifices she had made—

I find I don’t learn a lot while I’m talking,

Strange thoughts take over when you know you only have a few moments left to live.