by Celia Hayes
‘But… But… But it’s impossible. It’s unheard of!’ cries Thomas, emerging from his silence with a shocked expression. ‘It must be a joke. I cannot believe…’
‘I assure you, your grandfather was very clear, and there is no possibility of there being any misunderstanding,’ insists Cameron, attempting to reassure him.
‘And did he also specify whom I should marry?’ asks Thomas with a trace of sarcasm. He certainly does not expect an affirmative answer.
‘Actually, he did,’ replies the notary, nearly causing Thomas to topple from his chair. ‘It’s all written down here, you see?’ and he indicates the precise clause of the will. ‘It is Miss Sandy Price – is this name familiar to you?’
Familiar? ‘Familiar’ is not the right word to describe the principal torment of his childhood.
‘Sa… Sandy?’
This news falls on his future with the violence of a tornado. He could have imagined anything – anything except Sandy Price. What can he have done to deserve such punishment? He was always there, always attentive. Maybe he could have dedicated a few more hours, particularly in recent years, but can one failure to appear for Christmas really have such devastating after-effects? Clinging desperately to his last thread of hope, he asks in a barely audible voice, ‘And if she doesn’t want to marry me?’
‘Don’t worry, your grandfather was a prudent person,’ he reassures him. ‘Whichever of the two pulls out tacitly waives any rights to the inheritance.’
‘You’re trying to tell me that if I refuse to marry her, she inherits the lot?’
He can sit down no longer. He jumps up from his chair and rushes over to the desk, his haste such that he almost stumbles in the folds of the carpet.
‘That would be the obvious deduction,’ replies Cameron.
The calmness of his reaction mitigates Thomas’s agitation, so he decides to temporarily put aside his murderous instincts and concentrate on the practicalities of the situation.
‘So, to sum up, if I marry her I have to share all my property with her and if I don’t marry her she will inherit everything?’ As he tries to draw up an accurate picture of the situation, the menacing look never leaves his face.
‘Yes.’
‘And if neither of us wants to get married?’
‘Everything will be donated to charity. This is a full list of the associations between which the assets generated by the sale of properties and shares would be distributed,’ he says, handing over a freshly printed sheet of foolscap paper which Thomas snatches and scans rapidly, an expression of concentration on his face. There are all types of organizations, from the animal protection groups that he has never heard of to council day care centres.
‘I can’t believe it,’ he mumbles, biting his lip, ‘the Thames Bowling Club would get twenty million pounds?’
‘After taxes,’ corrects the notary.
‘After… After taxes,’ he repeats through clenched teeth, trying to resist throttling him.
‘Your grandfather always had a fondness for that pleasant pastime,’ says Hill with a smile, remembering the eccentric passions of the old man. ‘It is normal that he would remember his former club.’
‘Obviously,’ says Thomas, struggling to hold back a scream.
Cameron Hill senses that the tension in the room is building and decides to intervene on behalf of the deceased. ‘Mr. Clark, I’m sure Sir Roger had only your welfare in mind. Please note that he clause becomes null and void in the case that you can prove the impossibility of the union.’
‘Really?’ whispers Thomas, glimpsing a light at the end of the tunnel into which this cruel twist of fate has hurled him.
‘Of course! Your grandfather specified a number of conditions regarding the request. If you will wait one moment, I will read them to you right away,’ he answers, adjusting his glasses. ‘“This Act will be invalidated if you can demonstrate the following conditions for one spouse or both, before the marriage is celebrated: arrest for crimes such as manslaughter, multiple murder, violence against minors or women, or any term of imprisonment exceeding two years. You are also released from any obligation in the event that either of the couple should be afflicted by certified permanent physical dysfunction, such as coma or vegetative state caused by trauma, or death.”’
‘Are you joking? No, seriously – are you finding this amusing?’
‘I would not dare!’ exclaims the notary indignantly.
‘So what do you have to say about all this?’ Thomas shouts, slamming both palms down on the desk. At the limit of his endurance, he towers over the slight figure like a cat with its nose in an aquarium.
‘That you have two months. Good luck!’ he replies, not at all intimidated, as he passes over a copy of the will.
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Addictive Fiction
First published in Italy in 2016 by Newton Compton
First published in the UK in 2017 by Aria, an imprint of Head of Zeus Ltd
Copyright © Celia Hayes, 2017
The moral right of Celia Hayes to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act of 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. All characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
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A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
ISBN (E) 9781786694270
Aria
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