Page 95 of Boomerville at Ballymegille

‘But I hardly knew the man. I’d only made his acquaintance briefly.’ He thought of Bill’s angry face when he’d sprayed water on Finbar’s trousers.

‘I’d like you to help with the funeral.’

‘Ah, of course, then I’ll be willing to do what I can.’

The door opened again and James entered the study. He greeted everyone and took a seat.

‘We’re just waiting for Melissa,’ Jo said.

‘She’s here now.’ Hattie looked out of the window to see the hunched figure of Melissa, braced against heavy rain. She held an umbrella in one hand and Teddy’s lead in the other as the puppy skipped happily alongside.

A few moments later, Melissa had shrugged off her damp coat, allowing James to hang it on the back of the door as she sat down in a sagging armchair. Teddy ran over to Bunty and snuggled up. In moments, the little dog was asleep. Melissa flicked wet hair off her face and glanced nervously at Finbar, but he didn’t look her way. His eyes were firmly fixed on Hattie, as she began to speak.

‘Thank you all for being here today,’ Hattie began. ‘It’s a strange task that I’m about to undertake, and not one that I ever envisaged having to do.’ She stood before them and ran fingers through her tousled hair, tucking it beneath the scarf. ‘Bill, as you know, was a solitary sort of chap when he came to stay at Boomerville and at first, I did wonder if he would ever fit in.’ She paused. ‘But as time went on, I think he began to feel that he was, possibly for the first time in his life, making friends.’

Melissa looked out of the window and as rain cascaded from the sky; she had a tear in her eye. ‘Poor Bill,’ she whispered, ‘he must have felt so lonely.’

‘Let’s try and remember him in his last days, with Alf and Harry and everyone, enjoying the opening and having a good time,’ Jo said and handed Melissa a tissue.

‘But whatever are we to do?’ Melissa dabbed at her eyes. ‘He doesn’t have any family or friends to arrange his funeral.’

‘Well,’ Hattie took a deep breath. ‘I think I can answer that question.

‘After I left for Ireland,Bill telephoned me and set a process in motion; we had several later chats.’ Hattie paused and stared at the envelope in her hand. ‘He’d been in touch with his solicitor, in Creston.’ She ran her finger along the seal and pulled out several sheets of neatly typed paper.

‘A will?’ Jo gasped.

‘Aye,’ Hattie sighed. ‘Bill wanted his solicitor to check on his house but more importantly, to make sure that his affairs were in order, should anything happen to him while he was away.’

‘But how did he know he was going to have an accident?’ Melissa asked.

‘He didn’t, of course, but we know that he was hearing voices and perhaps he had a premonition.’ She shrugged. ‘Bill asked his solicitor and me to be his executors and arranged to have his will sent to me here.’

‘But who witnessed it?’

James sat forward. ‘I did,’ he said.

Hattie saw Jo frown. ‘Now don’t be getting all bent out of shape,’ Hattie said. ‘I couldn’t ask you to be a witness, you would only have worried and you had enough on your plate; James here was the obvious choice.’

She patted James on the shoulder.

‘So, let’s talk about the funeral.’ Hattie took a deep breath. ‘Bill wanted to be cremated in the nearest crematorium to the last place he visited,’ she paused, ‘which I believe will be in Kindale.’ Hattie looked at Finbar. ‘As you know everyone locally and how things work around here, I was hoping that you’d be able to put us in touch with whatever authorities need to be notified to make the arrangements?’

‘It will be my honour,’ Finbar said.

‘His ashes are to be scattered at my discretion.’

No one spoke. They sat quietly and waited for her to continue.

Hattie turned to Jo. ‘I thought we could have a little send-off here?’

‘Yes, of course.’

‘So, now we come to the matter of Bill’s will.’ Hattie ruffled the papers. ‘Bill and his solicitor gave permission that I read it, should anything happen to him whilst he was away.’ She put the papers in order and skimmed through the wording. ‘Well,’ she began, ‘there’s not a lot to say.’ Hattie looked up. ‘Bill had a Victorian villa in Creston, which is in Merseyside, as you probably know. His solicitor says that it’s a big place and despite not having had a thing done to it in years, will fetch a tidy sum.’ She wriggled her shoulders and stretched her neck. ‘There’s an amount of cash in a bank account too, but I believe this has dwindled considerably, owing to Bill’s fees at Boomerville.’

‘No doubt he’s left everything to a charity.’ Jo nodded. ‘I wonder which one will benefit.’

‘No, he hasn’t, surprisingly,’ Hattie replied, ‘and I think what I am about to say is going to be a bit of a shock.’

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