Page 111 of Save Us
There’s a huge lump in my throat. “I don’t believe it,” I whisper. “She left me a stake. Jamesandme.”
“Because she believed in you,” Graham says gently.
Tears well up in my eyes, making Mum’s words swim on the page. I hastily hand the letter back to James, who’s sitting on my right, and who has been amazingly quiet this whole time.
“I can’t believe she kept this thing,” Ophelia whispers, stroking the jewelry box with her fingers. “I gave it to her for her thirteenth birthday.”
I swallow. “If she hid this will this carefully, that must mean…” I begin, my voice worried.
“That the other one is a fake,” James says, finishing the sentence. “The will that named Dad as sole heir to the firm.”
“Cordelia’s will was officially filed,” Ophelia points out. “I was there when Clive Allen read it. Everything was done properly.”
“But this will wasn’t certified by Clive Allen,” Graham says suddenly, pointing with a frown to the paper I’m holding. “Look, it says Fergus Wright.”
James and I exchange glances.
“He used to be our lawyer,” my brother says slowly. “And our grandparents’ too. He died a few years ago, which is when they went over to Allen.” He laughs incredulously. “I can’t believe this.”
“What?” I ask, wiping my eyes.
“The night Mum died, Percy drove Dad over to Allen’s. He said he needed help and asked him to keep it quiet. They must have faked the will then.”
I gasp. “Do you think Dad knew Mum wouldn’t leave Beaufort’s to him?”
Ophelia gets up from the rattan chair she’s been sitting in the whole time. “He must have suspected it, at least.”
I glance at James. He looks just as stunned by the situation as I am.
“But…if Mum knew all along that she was going to leave Ophelia the firm one day, why didn’t she stop Dad from freezing her out like that?” James muses.
“Because she wanted to protect me,” says Ophelia quietly. She tucks a strand of her rusty red hair behind her ear and swallows. “I need to call my own lawyer. He can make sure that the correct will comes into force.”
I reach for my brother’s hand just as he reaches for mine. We cling to each other as she makes the call. I think we both realize that we need to stick together now, closer than ever before.
James
Lydia is wearing a black skirt suit that makes her look startlingly similar to Mum. We’ve all dressed for the occasion, Ophelia in a mint-green shift dress, and me in a Beaufort’s suit.
It takes a while for Dad’s personal assistant to meet us and invite us to follow her up. She holds the door for us, and we troop, one by one, into his office. An oppressive feeling grips my chest at the sight of my father.
“To what do I owe the honor of this visit?” he mocks. He doesn’t even bother to get up from behind his desk.
Ophelia walks across the room with a casual air I’ve neverseen before. At this moment, it’s like she has the upper hand. She probably knows that this is the only way to get through to Dad.
“We need to talk, Mortimer,” she says, sitting down at his desk. Lydia sits on the other chair. I stand behind her, leaning on the back of it.
Dad looks to and fro between us and our aunt. I can’t read his face. Does he know what’s coming?
“We found this,” Ophelia says, opening her black briefcase. She pulls out a copy of Mum’s will and pushes it over the desktop to my father.
I’m watching his facial expression very closely. First, he blinks in confusion. The next moment, all the blood drains from his cheeks. He pulls the copy closer and scans through it.
“And what is this supposed to be?” he asks, looking up.
“That is my sister’s will,” Ophelia replies calmly. “Which raises the question of exactly what it was that was read back in December.”
Dad’s left eye starts to twitch. He raises his hand and smooths it over his gelled hair. Then he swallows hard and narrows his lips.
