“I’m so, so sorry about Norman,” Mr. Clack continued, “he was one of the good ones.”
“Yes. Thank you,” said Fred. Of course Mr. Clack was sorry to see one of his clients pass away. Not only was he a sure-thing for an easy investor but it also meant — with him deceased — there was a good chance the bank could lose the business when they money gets divided between the remaining family members. And Fred knew this and suspected it was why Mr. Clack had come over to offer his condolences.
“So,” Mr. Clack drew a breath, “have they read the will yet?”
Fred simply smiled in response and walked away to see what other parasites had come along to see what they could get, or keep from losing. The gardeners were here, the chef who prepared Norman’s meals, obviously the butlers although technically they were still working, the bank manager, the solicitor, old business partners and clients. Bottom-dwellers, as Fred liked to think of them, all wanting to get their slice of the six million pound pie.
I V
“They’ll all be there,” he had told Jude as they drove from the service to the wake, back at Norman’s house. “They’ll all be there wanting to protect their potential cut. They’ll all be running around pretending to be sad but they’ll just be counting down the minutes until the reading. That’s what they’re really there for.”
Of course Jude didn’t get it, “Maybe they’re there out of respect? Maybe they want to say their last goodbyes?” she had replied.
Fred had turned to her with a look of both disbelief and jealousy on his face. He couldn’t believe she couldn’t see it; human nature at its most greedy. Yet he was also jealous of her; jealous that she hadn’t experienced it before. But then, of course she didn’t know it. Her family didn’t have any money. He just hoped this wouldn’t change her.
“They just want his money. If he didn’t have any there would be less than half the people at that damned service. Well they’re in for a shock,” he’d said, “because I won’t be letting them take anything that doesn’t belong to them. And Mr. Clack — his bank manager — he can get stuffed if he thinks he is keeping the business. That money is coming straight away from his care…”
Jude had smiled, “Do you really think he will leave us the money?”
Fred had snorted through his nose, “Well who else will get it? I am the only living relative.” He had made his own Will less than 6 months ago and — even though his brother hadn’t helped him with his project — he had left him a substantial amount of money. The rest went to his wife. It stood to reason that, with his brother being single and there being no other close family members, he would get a good proportion of what his brother had accumulated over his lifetime. Not that Fred planned to keep it all for himself. Naturally he would share it out as it was the decent thing to do. That being said — he’d ensure the people, who crawled out of the woodwork to try and get a sniff of the prize, would quickly be stamped back down to where they had come from with little chance of return.
Jude didn’t say anything else on the car journey. She just sat there, hoping Fred was right and that he wouldn’t be disappointed.
V
After saying a quick hello to a few of his cousins, whom he hadn’t seen since the last funeral, Fred finally managed to get a hold of the man he’d been wanting to speak to since the service began; Fred’s solicitor — Graham Pains.
“My deepest condolences,” Graham said as he shook Fred’s hand.
“Thank you, thank you… Listen…”
“I can only imagine the shock it must have come as,” Graham continued, interrupting Fred. “I was only speaking to Norman a couple of weeks ago. It’s a scary though, isn’t it? One minute you’re here and the next — gone.”
“Yes, it’s terrible.” Fred dismissed what Graham was saying, brushing it to one side with a metaphorical sweeping of a brush. He hadn’t sniped Graham out of the crowd for a conversation about the injustice of death and how short life was. He wanted to know whether Graham had the Last Will and Testament of his brother. More specifically, he wanted to know what it said. Graham — however — was unaware Fred had the potential to be so cold.
“It’s a sad, sad thing,” he continued. “It seems to be that time of the year. People seem to be dropping like flies left, right and centre. Did you know this is the fourth funeral this month alone and we’re not even half-way through.”
“It’s my second,” said another man of similar age. A complete stranger to Fred who’d overheard the conversation and — somehow — deemed it appropriate to join in. “It certainly makes you think about your own life,” the man continued. “I mean — my best friend dropped dead of a heart attack less than a fortnight ago. Poor bastard was going about the office, filing paperwork, and then — bam — out like a light. Admittedly it was one of those bulbs that flickers faintly for a while before finally going out but, yes, he perished on that very spot. Because of that — and without thinking of the consequences — I upped and left right there and then. My friend was always complaining about not doing enough with his life and — for him — it’s too late. Not too late for me though. I always hated that place and I can’t begin to tell you how amazing it felt just to leave like that. Truly amazing. Of course I didn’t think it through one hundred percent — now I’m in that stage of blind panic, trying to find a job before the next set of bills come in,” he laughed.
Fred cottoned on immediately. He didn’t recognise the man because he was a freeloader. Someone who had most likely bumped into Norman once — or twice — through work (possibly) and was here in the faint hope of getting some money from the estate. Clearly the man was deluded if he thought he was going to walk away with any of the prize pot. It would go to Fred, some to the cousins, some to pay off any outstanding debts, some more to Fred, pay the staff off, a little more to Fred and then — finally — the rest to Fred. People like this chap could go to Hell if they thought they’d be getting anywhere near it.
“How did you know my brother?” Fred tested the gentleman.
The man pretended to spot someone he knew across the room and gave them a little wave whilst mouthing the word ‘hello’. With that, he turned to Fred and Graham, “If you’ll excuse me — there’s someone over there that I simply must say hello to.”
Fred and Graham watched the man. He walked straight past the gentleman he had pretended to acknowledge and right out of the main room, passing a bored looking Jude — standing in the corner. It was exactly as Fred had suspected; a damned freeloader.
“That’s terrible about his friend,” Graham said finally.
Fred turned back to him, “Yes. Well. Clearly. Anyway. I was wondering…”
“I’m not sure quitting your job would be the right way to go though, if you were in his situation. It’s all very well saying you’re going to go off and live your life but — well — you do need to ensure your bills are paid, yes?”
“Yes. Obviously.” Fred quickly continued, “And it’s that I need to discuss with you.”
“Oh don’t worry — your brother and I were squared up long ago. There’s nothing owing on his account,” Graham gave Fred a little wink and smiled.
“No. That’s not what I was getting at,” Fred continued, “I was wondering whether you had a copy of the Will and when the reading would be?”
Graham laughed, “I know, I know. I was just teasing you. Yes I do have the Will and there will be a reading. In fact, seeing as you’re not the only one to ask the question — if it’s not in poor taste — we could do it later on?”
Fred bit immediately, “What do you mean I’m not the only one asking? Who else has spoken about it?”
“Oh you know how it is,” Graham said, “someone of wealth perishes and suddenly you find yourself surrounded by people all holding their hands out for what they believe they’re entitled to.”