“Yes I know but… Well… I’m his brother. Who else was asking?”
“You have the staff. Obviously they’re worried about their wages for the month, which is fair enough. Then there are his cousins. One of which he apparently owed money to and has done now for a few years. He was getting quite shirty rambling on about interest etc but I wouldn’t worry about him. There’s no contract that I know of and your brother and I have been doing business now for many, many years. They’re just trying their luck.”
“Great so I’m going to have to deal with imbeciles like this when we do the reading then?” Fred huffed, “Who said it?”
“Oh it really doesn’t matter. Like I said, there’s no contract so — if they’re not mentioned in the Will — they won’t get a penny anyway.”
“I have had enough of this,” Fred snapped.
Without any warning he jumped up on the settee and addressed the room, “Listen — whilst it is nice to see so many people here… What is not nice is the fact that some of you are here for the wrong reasons; not to pay your last respects but rather to try and freeload some of the money. Well listen up and listen carefully — you will not get a penny of it. As his only brother — and the closest family member he has — I won’t allow my brother’s wealth to be split between people who do not deserve it. Now obviously we haven’t done the reading yet but, when we do, I will tell you this much… I will of course be paying out money to the staff for hours worked, as part of your usual wage. You worked hard for my brother and I am sure he is grateful. You will not be getting more than what you’re owed though. This was your job. You are employees only. Nothing more and nothing less. But — with your final wage — I shall also take this time to wish you the best of luck in securing work elsewhere.” He paused a moment and listened to the rumbled moaning of the disappointed. “If my brother owed you money for any reason — this too will be paid back to you on receipt of a valid contract. No contract, no money. That is the way business works.” A few more people moaned. “To Mr. Clack — thank you for your years of service but my brother’s money will be transferred to another account with another bank. I have not used your establishment, nor do I plan to. Again, thank you for doing your best at steering him in the right direction, over the years, even if your direction wasn’t necessarily the one I would have opted for. Okay, if you fall into any of the above categories — now would be a good time for you to leave, thank you.” Fred stopped and waited.
One by one people slowly filtered from the room. Staff, Mr. Clack and a few other faces Fred didn’t recognise. It still left a room full of people he didn’t know though.
Fred continued, “Charities. I’m sorry but — at this time — we will not be making any donations. That may change in the future when I have gone through your policies and exactly what you do with the money obtained. I will not be harassed into this decision and nor do I need counsel as to how you operate. I will make the informed decision on my own. Thank you for coming. You know where the door is.”
A few more people left.
Fred looked around the room. There were still a number of people hanging around but he hoped these were the genuine people; those who were wanting to show support for Fred and Jude as well as pay their final respects to a man they had known personally and liked, or loved. Fred nodded a nod of satisfaction at a job well done and jumped down from the settee before walking back over to Graham, “Well that should make things easier,” he said.
Graham smiled, “Did you want to do this now then?” he asked. He reached into his pocket and withdrew an ivory coloured enveloped, closed via the use of a fancy looked red seal made of melted wax. Fred beamed. Of course he wanted to do it now. He was about to be the sole proprietor of six million pounds. Had he had his way, he would have done the reading first. At least that way he could have skipped on going to the service.
“I think it would be good to wrap these things up,” he smiled.
“Very well.” He ripped into the envelope. It wasn’t the way proceedings usually went but — technically — it was Fred’s choice when it happened. In this instance, Graham was simply the message boy. “If everybody could please take a seat,” he shouted out.
As the majority of the people in the room took a seat on whatever they could find, Fred walked over to the mantlepiece and leaned against it with an expectant look upon his face. Jude went and stood by his side. She too was smiling, aware that this was the moment her husband had been waiting for. He was going to be rich. They were going to be rich.
V I
Not many people cheer when they find out a loved one has died and yet that is exactly what Fred had done. He had put the phone down and let out the loudest cheer you could imagine. A roar so loud that it actually burned the back of his throat — and very nearly gave his wife, Jude, a heart attack of her own.
He explained to Jude what had happened; his brother had dropped dead whilst faffing about in his home and jumped immediately to the beautiful fact that they were rich. Even before the Will had been read, Fred had counted upon the money being his. And who was Jude to argue? Neither one of them had presumed that, considering Norman and Fred hadn’t spoken properly for a couple of years, the money could end up going elsewhere.
And yet…
V I I
“What?” Fred screamed out, causing Jude to jump. Slowly she took a side step away from her fuming husband. “Re-read it again! Check the name at the top! You did remember to bring the right piece of paperwork? This isn’t one of your other clients? You did say earlier that it wasn’t the first funeral you had been to this month. Did you get the paperwork mixed up?” He stormed over to where Graham was standing, addressing the room, and snatched the paperwork right from his hand. He turned his back on the watching eyes and scanned through the document once more; his eyes darting from side to side with startling speed and his heart pounding heavily in the back of his throat. “Fuck!” he screamed.
There — spelt out in clear English and black ink — it said it very clearly with very little room for misunderstanding; the whole estate was to be broken down and sold with all proceeds going to the local cattery.
“He doesn’t even like cats!” Fred screamed as he tossed the paperwork up in the air. “This isn’t right,” Fred continued, “I’m going to contest it. He can’t leave me with nothing! He can’t! We were brothers! He owes me this money, that selfish idiot! He owes me! You hear me?” People were looking at Fred with raised eyebrows but he didn’t care. He found the whole thing incredibly embarrassing and insulting to say the least. Since hearing of his brother’s death, he had already counted on that money. More than that, he had spent pretty much every penny in his head. He’d mentally purchased property overseas, a whole new wardrobe of designer clothes, expensive holidays, new furniture, more property, more clothes, a garage full of expensive to buy (and expensive to run) cars and all of the latest gadgets and tech. Everything he had ever wanted, he would now own. That was the plan at least. Instead, his brother screwed him. “We had a cat when we were growing up! He never fed him. He didn’t even pet him. And — let me tell you — when that cat died… I cried for about a week. Norman just asked mum when we were getting a puppy. No. No. This is a joke. This is wrong. This is…”
“A test.”
Fred fell silent immediately. He froze to the spot. The whole room was hushed. Had one dropped, you would have heard a pin fall to the floor. That was Norman’s voice. Slowly Fred turned around.
“Norman?”