The Wrong Umbrella Taken from the Garrick Club

The Garrick Club had its rules, and Edwin Marsh had his. He always hung his umbrella on the third hook from the left in the entrance hall. Always. For twenty-two years, he had done this without a single exception. So when he reached for it after lunch on a wet Tuesday in November and found a plain black umbrella hanging in its place, he felt a cold shock that had nothing to do with the weather outside.

His umbrella was not plain. It had a handle made of polished silver, with the initials E.H.M. engraved in small, neat letters. His father had given it to him on the day he became a barrister. It was the only object Edwin truly cared about.

He held the cheap replacement in his hand and stared at it. 'Someone took mine,' he thought. 'By accident—or not.'

He asked the porter, a quiet man called Stevens, if he had seen anything.

'A gentleman left about fifteen minutes ago, sir,' Stevens said carefully. 'In a hurry. He was wearing a dark green coat.'

Edwin looked at the clock. His afternoon meeting was in fifty minutes. He could go to his meeting and report the umbrella missing later, or he could follow the man. He chose to follow.

The rain was heavy now, and the street was full of umbrellas opening like black flowers. Edwin stood on the pavement and looked around. A dark green coat was moving quickly toward the Strand.

Edwin was sixty-three and his left knee was often stiff, but he moved quickly through the crowd. He caught up to the man near a narrow passage between two buildings.

'Excuse me,' he said loudly.

The man in the green coat stopped and turned. He was younger than Edwin had expected—perhaps forty, with a tired face and wet glasses. In his right hand was Edwin’s umbrella, unmistakable with its silver handle.

'I believe you have something that belongs to me,' Edwin said.

The man looked down at the umbrella. Then, to Edwin’s surprise, his face showed pure exhaustion rather than guilt.

'I know,' the man said. 'I realized as soon as I got outside. The handle is wrong. Mine is wooden.' He held it out immediately. 'I was deciding whether to go back or find a member of staff. I’m terribly sorry. I’m late for a meeting and I wasn’t thinking.'

Edwin took the umbrella and checked it for damage. There was none.

'Your umbrella is still on the hook,' Edwin said. 'Third from the left.'

'Thank you.' The man sighed. 'My name is Callum Reid. I’ve only been a member for six weeks. I haven’t made a very good impression, have I?'

Edwin looked at him. The young man had no umbrella now, and his coat was getting soaked.

'Take mine until we get back inside,' Edwin said, holding it out.

Reid blinked. 'I just tried to steal it from you.'

'You tried to return it in the rain,' Edwin replied. 'That is different.' He paused. 'Also, my meeting was cancelled. I simply wanted to see what kind of man you were.'

They walked back to the club together under the silver-handled umbrella. When Reid finally collected his own umbrella, he offered his hand.

'I hope I passed your test,' he said.

Edwin shook his hand. 'Ask me again after the second time we meet,' he said, and he almost smiled.