“You remember?”
“I remember lots of things.”
She turned and walked away as Gwen stared after her. So many years had passed but now she felt like that awkward teenage girl who had just told her best friend she had feelings for her. Her mum grasped her arm.
“Don’t over think things. After the will reading, ask her to meet you to talk. You are both adults now, it’s time to lay this to rest.”
“I can’t, it doesn’t matter anyway, she made it clear how she felt. I don’t need anyone, I have you, my friends and my new family. My life is over in the States, she is just part of my past.”
“I didn’t raise my daughter to be a fool or a coward. You don’t let yourself love anyone else because your heart has always been here…”
Their conversation was cut short by the arrival of more family members. Finally, they were just waiting for her dad to arrive. It was already ten minutes past the allotted appointment time when they were ushered into the solicitor’s chamber, and were all seated when he arrived. Everyone turned to look at him, he was dressed in the same shabby suit as the day before and with him was a middle-aged woman who looked like she was auditioning for a role as Bet Lynch’s younger sister. Gwen rolled her eyes.
After explaining the legalities of the will, the solicitor began by dealing with the small bequests. There were pieces of jewellery and personal items that were handed to the various relatives. An uncle wept as he received a watch belonging to his late brother. It turned out many of these small legacies were for Gwen’s grandads’ family, things that had been in his family for generations. Out of the corner of her eye she could see her dad fuming at each item given away, she could imagine that he was adding up the value of each item.
Eventually there were only three of them who were yet to receive anything, Gwen, her mother, and her father.
“To my son Stephen I leave his father’s pocket watch and the sum of £100. To my daughter-in-law Gail I leave my wedding and engagement rings in the hope that one day she will pass them on to one of her daughters for their own weddings, my cut glass crystal collection she always admired and the sum of £2000 to cover any expenses she had attending my funeral. Finally, to my beloved granddaughter Gwendoline, I leave my house and the remainder of my estate.”
Silence filled the room for a minute before her father stood up.
“And how much is the rest of the estate?”
“I am afraid that is between myself and Miss Evans.” The solicitor remained impassive, no doubt he had seen it all before.
“You can tell him. He will find out anyway, may as well get the tantrums over and done with.”
“How dare you speak about me like that?” Her dad glared at her before repeating his question. “How much?”
“The house has been valued at £120,000, there is jewellery left to the value of £5,000, antiques and other household items valued to around £30,000, and cash from bonds and insurance policies to another £100,000. Mrs Evans had been very careful ensuring everything was documented and correctly valued. And before you think about contesting the will, she was also very, very careful to make sure it was beyond dispute. If you want to waste money challenging it feel free, but I assure you that you will lose.”
Her dad stormed from the room, his ‘friend’ racing after him tottering on her ridiculously high heels. Gwen and her mother remained seated while the other legacies were handed out and signed for. They said their farewells to the rest of the family and promised to stay in touch. Then there were just the two of them and the solicitor. He passed over a small velvet bag to her mum containing the rings and the cheque for the money, then turned to Gwen.
“Have you had any thoughts about what you want to do with the house?”
“Honestly? No. I know she always said it would be mine, but I never really thought about her being gone.”
“Off the record, your gran did ask me to make a suggestion to you. She knew your life was overseas, but she always hoped one day you would come home. She seemed to think you had unfinished business here, I never asked what. However, she did ask I suggest you rent the house out for a few years. It would give you an income and mean you always had a home here if you decided to come home.”
Home, the word tugged at Gwen’s heart. She loved living in New York, but she was aware that since the plane landed there was something deep inside her that felt a sense of belonging.
“I’ll go sort out the furniture, take a look around and then decide. Can you recommend the best estate agents to deal with sale or rental, it’s been a long time since I was last here, I have no idea what needs doing in the house.”
“The house is in good condition. Your grandmother recently had the bathroom and kitchen refitted. She also, as she put it, decluttered, removing all the knick-knacks that she had collected but had no real worth or sentimental significance. She was determined to make everything as easy as possible for you. The money will be transferred into your account this afternoon. This is the card for a very good estate agent and here are your house keys. If I can help with anything else don’t hesitate to contact me.”
“Thank you.”
Gwen took the keys and shook his hand. Then they left the room, she steeled herself to see Elise again, but the desk was empty.
Ten minutes later the taxi pulled up outside her grandma’s house, or her house now, Gwen reminded herself. They let themselves in and she felt like a child all over again. The house may have been redecorated but it smelt like her gran. She walked around the room trailing her hand over the furniture. Memories assaulted her, running in after school bursting to share the day’s events. The evenings when she had slept over, late night film fests with her gran, stuffing their faces with popcorn and singing along to the musicals her gran had always preferred.
So many memories of her childhood came flooding back. Maybe she had shut out a lot of them, but her dad had barely featured in any of them. Now as an adult, she realised he had been absent even before he had decided to walk away.
She heard the knock at the door and her mother answering. Her father was outside demanding to be allowed in, claiming there were things of his there. Her mother must have shut the door and stepped outside as she could no longer hear what was being said. It struck her, if she decided to keep the house then he would constantly be in her life hassling her for money. The thing was, she didn’t want to sell the house, she loved this place, she had forgotten how much. She would remove all the furniture and put it in storage then rent the house out unfurnished. She would need to make sure that he could not find out where the storage unit was, but he was not getting anything else of her grandma’s.
She picked up a framed photograph from the sideboard, it sat nestled between photos of her and gran. In the silver frame two girls laughed without a care in the world. It had been taken a week before she left for the States and just hours before she had revealed her feelings to her then best friend. She had never seen the photo before; she vaguely remembered her gran taking some, but it must have been printed after she left. How had she got things so wrong?
CHAPTER SIX