Chapter 585 Ch584 Father's Name

Chapter 585 Ch.584 Father's Name

Beros Taylor doesn't remember who he is.

Then, he probably won't remember who Beatrice Taylor and Randolph Taylor are.

After talking about the heavy, tacit understanding between the two men, they no longer let the "disgusting" mood grow wildly, and instead talked about more practical things: Bellos Taylor's illness.

Randolph said that his father was not like this at the beginning.

At first, he just forgot the way, the purpose of going out, forgot to wear socks, forgot the maid's name, forgot the date and the favorite cigar -

It was as if there was a rotten sore dripping with thick juice in his memory pipes that smelled of tobacco and sea breeze and were full of order.

It corroded these pipes bit by bit, and over the years, they were completely rotten, rusted and broken, and confused Bellos Taylor's brain:

He couldn't tell the difference between winter and summer, and didn't know if he had enough food and drink. If no one reminded him, he could eat seven or eight meals a day.

Everything around him was unfamiliar to him.

This made him suffer, and also made the son who was taking care of his father suffer.

"You know, I can't accept that he looked at me, looked at me carefully, and even for ten minutes, and then told me: You are fine, child. But I really didn't marry and have children, how could I be your father?"

Randolph rubbed his stiff face, took the cigar cut by Roland, lowered his head, and lit it with a few matches.

"I wanted to take him back to London, but in those few sober conversations, he kept warning me not to take him away from here."

Randolph supported his face with the heel of his palm. He was like operating a turret with extremely strong recoil. After a bang, cheers and buzzing, only a pair of trembling hands and an empty and confused soul were left.

He didn't know how to face himself, face his father, how to talk to Beatrice, and how to accept the impending death.

"He is sick, and I don't want him to be confused before he dies..."

Randolph silently made his own smoke, mixed with that of the cigar.

The family business prevented him from leaving London for a long time, and his father's warning made Randolph a frequent passenger on the train. In addition, there was Jeff Cavendish, who was eyeing him but not as smart as a pig, and his aunt Bethany Cavendish, who had many small thoughts... At the same time, he had to deal with the trivial matters of Golden Smoke, and now, there was the Fountain of Youth.

Randolph was indeed busy enough.

"You'd better keep your mouth shut, Roland." Randolph didn't know what he was thinking, and sneered: "My father got sick, his temper is getting worse and worse, and he often likes to use that cane to beat the servants' buttocks..."

Roland blinked: "I am famous for being well-behaved."

There was some malice in Randolph's smile: "I won't let anyone help you when the time comes, Roland. If--"

Crunch.

The abrupt sound made the two men turn their heads together.

The wardrobe in the corner.

was pushed open.

An old man wearing a light blue star-speckled nightgown and a nightcap on his head walked out with his head held high.

He was holding a cane with a black background and a gold rose pattern, knocking as he walked. When he saw the two young men who were ‘dazed’, he curled his lips and said with a slight displeasure: “You should come visit me more often, my child.”

He didn’t wait for Randolph to smile in surprise and joy, picked up the cane, and walked to him in three or two steps.

He hugged Roland and patted his back hard.

“Good boy! As handsome as I was when I was young! How long have we not seen each other?”

Randolph: …

Roland turned his head slightly and asked Randolph: “Is it too late for me to start learning about business and tobacco now?”

Randolph punched him in the back.

…………

……

Beatrice hadn’t seen her father for many years.

She almost didn’t recognize Bellos Taylor, and Bellos didn’t recognize his daughter even more - this was good, one old and one young, two strangers sat opposite each other on the sofa, one talked freely, spitting stories about the sea, and the other held a teacup, covered the cup with his palm, and listened to his crazy words obediently.

Theresa stood aside, quietly wiping away tears.

She was so upset.

"... The master was not like this when he was young."

She served Bellows Taylor all his life.

"I am willing to exchange my life for his health..."

Randolph pursed his lips.

Who wouldn't want to?

"... And then? Haha! My cannon is not vegetarian! Bang! Do you know how loud it is? Bang! Even with your ears blocked, you can feel that the whole deck is shaking! I shouted like this, one shot after another! Those fake half-words dared not say more, and they were pissed and pissed-"

As he spoke, the old man suddenly became quiet.

He looked around the living room with the iconic eyes of the Taylor family, and a trace of doubt appeared on his face with ravines.

Then.

It was embarrassment and panic.

"Who... are you?"

"Betty!" Beatrice carefully moved her hand away from the cup, took a sip quickly, and quickly covered it with her hand: "Betty! Taylor!"

Bellows narrowed his eyes.

The faint purple in his eyes had long been disturbed by the turbidity, and the only gentleness disappeared along with the sound of gunfire, and could no longer be found.

He became sluggish, pressing his knees in a proper manner, like a living corpse, sitting quietly on the sofa. His golden hair had faded, driven away by the paleness, and he was deeply trapped in a trance, like a child who had lived for a thousand years and had no time to fight against the loneliness that was rushing towards him.

He just stood still in front of everyone, his two helpless lips clinging to each other, threatening no one to separate.

Anyone with a soft heart will sigh after watching this scene: It’s so sad. Is this still considered alive?

Randolph wanted to say a few words, but the servant came quickly and whispered a few words to him.

soon.

A woman with brown hair and brown eyes was served into the room.

She is slender and elegant in manner.

Wearing a set of pearl-ocher-colored group-patterned long skirts, if the skirt were any wider, she would not be able to get through the door.

She followed the rules and took every small step. Even though there were wrinkles at the end of her eyes and freckles on her face, she still swayed like a young lady.

This elegance deepens with age, covering every inch of her flesh and blood.

She just walked slowly around the room while everyone was waiting. After standing still, her chin deviated slightly from the established track. At the same time, a look on her pale face was similar to that of eating unclean fish meat and about to face the turbulence but still had to wait. Insist on discussing with others which technique was used in the oil painting in front of you——

She greeted Randolph, and her surprise was obvious to everyone.

It is compiled now.

"I miss you so much, Randolph." She was very restrained in her enthusiasm, as if someone had put a knife to her neck. I was afraid that if she exceeded the limit, the blade would bleed, which would be the same as eating bad fish.

"Aunt Bethany." Randolph stood up and saluted, "Long time no see. I miss you too, I miss Jeff, the cobblestones here, the sea breeze, and the sunshine passing through the city."

Bethany wanted to smile, but she forced a wrinkle to form on her lips.

"That's great, Randolph. Seeing you makes me see the old Jocelyn... Oh, this is Beatrice, right? Let me see, you grow up so fast..."