The Godson's Legacy

by Gait, Paul;

  ‘What…what do I have to do? I’m no good with blood.’

  ‘Oh. It’s nothing as barbaric as that. Suffocation is what I’ve chosen.’

  ‘What? You mean putting a pillow over your face?’

  ‘Oh no. The best way is a polythene bag over the head, and elastic bands around the neck.’

  ‘Oh!’

  ‘I will do that bit myself.’

  ‘So what do I do?’

  ‘Well it’s human nature, that as I start to suffocate, my reaction will be to take the bag off.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘I just want you to hold my arms, to stop me pulling it off. That’s all.

  ‘Just hold your arms?’

  ‘Yes. That’s all. I will kill myself and you’ll be in the clear.’

  ‘Finally Andy stopped the DVD.

  ‘That awful woman IS innocent after all. Geoffery stitched her up,’ Helen said, clearly shocked.

  ‘What should we do?’ Andy asked, depressed at the revelation of her innocence and fearful of the consequences on her husband of her release.

  ‘Well we’ve got to go to the Police.’

  ‘But that will mean she will be free to get to her husband again. He’s already on the verge of a nervous breakdown.’

  ‘Poor Rupert!’

  ‘No we can’t let that happen.’

  ‘It’s not down to us. We have evidence that could free an innocent person,’ Helen said, shocked at his suggestion.

  ‘Innocent of attempted murder, perhaps. But not for beating up her husband.’

  ‘Andy, wake up. We can’t suppress this information. What if the CCTV bloke goes to the Police and tells them he gave you the DVD?’

  ‘He said he hadn’t watched it. Didn’t know what was on it. It was a trial. They were trying to sell a complete CCTV system to the Hospice, but reckons there was no funding available, so they took it out again.’

  ‘But he will have a master,’ she argued.

  ‘’I don’t know. We shouldn’t go rushing into making hasty decisions,’ Andy persisted.

  ‘Andy, it’s not our call.’

  ‘I wish the technician hadn’t given it to me,’ Andy said, forlornly. ‘Obviously Geoffery didn’t know it had been installed either.’

  ‘No, but it was. Now we need to do the right thing. In spite of what we think about her abusing her husband, she’s innocent of attempted murder.’

  ‘Let me think about it.’

  ‘What’s to think about? You must go to the Police. Andy, listen to me.’

  ‘I’m thinking. What would Geoffery do? After all, he did this to protect his nephew and we’re going to undo all his planning.’

  ‘Geoffery is gone. This is now our problem.’

  CHAPTER THREE

  23rd December

  The roar of the Rolls Royce engines announced the arrival of the Gulfstream 500 as it descended over the roof tops of Churchup village on its final approach to touch down at Gloucestershire airport.

  Aboard the small chartered business jet was Nadine, Geoffery’s former girlfriend and eight casino dancers who had flown from Nice Cote d’Azur airport.

  The small Staverton based airport, used mainly by air freight businesses, is located midway between the Roman city of Gloucester and the Regency town of Cheltenham and made commuting to the funeral easy.

  After taxiing around the perimeter of the airfield finally the jet came to a halt and the small group disembarked and walked through the single story Main Terminal building.

  The girls, Geoffery’s ‘long legged lovelies, had been flown in to re-enact their role as his pallbearers, which they had done a few months previously during his mock wake in Monaco.

  Geoffery had laid on the extravagant mock wake, before his health finally deteriorated, for he knew it would be his final party. The event had been themed on the Rocky Horror show and he had spared no expense, so that as well as his costumed guests, he too, would enjoy the celebration of his own life.

  With a heavy heart he realised that the organisation of the huge party in Monaco would be the last of many projects which he had accomplished in the principality before making his final journey, home to the Cotswolds, to die.

  On his return to the Cotswolds, although gravely ill, Geoffery had continued his consummate professionalism by providing meticulous instructions for orchestrating every aspect of his funeral.

  The group left the airport in two, sleek, six door Volvo 960s sent by the Funeral Director and were driven straight to a five star hotel on the outskirts of Gloucester.

  Geoffery had chosen the luxurious 16th Century Elizabethan Manor House hotel, at the foot of the rolling Cotswold escarpment, because of its relative proximity to the Church on the Hill, where he was to be buried.

  As the Volvos rolled up the drive, Nadine, used to staying at high class hotels, was immediately enamoured by the ancient building, its Cotswold stone exterior almost hidden by a living wallpaper of ivy. The thick canopy of evergreen leaves cloaking the hotel, camouflaging it into its rural surroundings.

  The visitors were duly ‘booked in’ and went to their rooms to change for the funeral.

  Andy and Helen were the first of the other mourners to arrive. Spotting them in the stylish entrance hall, the Funeral Director, a large portly figure wearing a calm sympathetic smile, greeted them warmly and handed Andy a letter.

  ‘What have you got there?’ Helen asked, as Andy apprehensively opened the envelope.

  ‘I’ll tell you in a second,’ he said, scanning the brief note. ‘It’s instructions from Geoffery. I’m to introduce the Godsons to each other.’

  ‘Why you?’

  ‘I guess I must be the only one who knows them all.’

  Andy positioned himself by the door into the oak panelled conference room, which had been reserved for them, to welcome the mourners as they arrived.

  Geoffery had specified that the funeral was to be a celebration of his life and therefore he didn’t want people to wear black. He had stopped short of suggesting that they wore fancy dress, as they had done for the mock funeral in Monaco.

  Rupert and Joanne were the next to arrive hand in hand, wearing conservative coloured clothes. Rupert was very self-conscious as this was the first public appearance of his year-long affair with his work colleague.

  Ben, one of Andy’s scouts and friend of Geoffery, was next with his mother Beth. She looked very attractive, always meticulous with her appearance, in spite of the addiction problems for which she was being treated.

  James arrived wearing an open neck shirt and the same clothes that Geoffery had bought him when he first arrived in Cheltenham, having been rescued from the streets of London, ‘in the nick of time’.

  Last to arrive was Tim, with girlfriend Carrie and Tim’s mother, Kay. Kay had been one of Geoffery’s early, pre-millionaire, lovers.

  Andy gathered the mourners together and introduced the Godsons to each other, as instructed in Geoffery’s note.

  ‘Tim, this is Rupert and James,’ he said, as Tim joined the group. ‘My name is Andy Spider. As some of you already know, I was your Godfather’s Nurse at the Hospice and his ‘gofer’ to help track you all down.

  ‘This is James,’ he said, gesturing in his direction. ‘James and I met in London in very different circumstances.’

  James thrust out his hand and delivered a firm handshake to the others. ‘Hello, pleased to meet you,’ he said in turn. ‘Yes, at the time I was living on the streets, when the old boy decided to track me down and save me from myself,’ James volunteered. ‘I knew Geoffery many years ago when, like him, I, too, had a few ‘mill’ in the bank.’

  ‘Thank you James.’

  Andy turned his attention to Rupert. ‘Rupert is, sorry, was… also Geoffery’s nephew,’ he corrected himself. ‘He has literally had a bit of a rough time recently, matrimonially speaking.’

  Rupert put his hand self-consciously to his bruised face and looked at the floor, clearly uncomfortable at Andy’s expl
anation.

  ‘What! Your wife did that to you?’ Tim said, looking at Rupert’s battered face. ‘Christ…and are you still married to her? He asked, pointedly looking at Joanne.

  ‘Oh, this isn’t her,’ Rupert said, defensively. ‘This is my girlfriend Joanne,’ he added, looking affectionately at her. ‘No, I’m separated from my wife. She a…my wife’s in prison,’ Rupert volunteered, awkwardly.

  Now it was Andy’s turn to feel uncomfortable, for he knew that Sue, Rupert’s wife, was no longer in custody and was wondering how best to break the news to him.

  ‘I should think so too.’ Tim added.

  Andy interjected quickly to change the subject. ‘And Tim here is…’

  ‘Still knackered.’ Tim said, interrupting. ‘Do you know, that old bastard even got me running up ‘effing’ mountains. Even though I’ve got two artificial legs,’ he added, tapping his prosthetic thighs. ‘I brought my Mum and girlfriend Carrie. They both had a lot to do with the old man as well.’

  Suddenly, a noise at the doorway stopped the small talk. All eyes turned to look at the bevy of beauty that entered, as Nadine led the eight giggling girls into the room.

  Nadine was immaculate in a bright orange three quarter length coat over a pretty floral blouse, her long legs hidden by a pair of tightly cut black trousers; at her wrist a chunky gold bracelet.

  The girls were wearing their ‘special’ funeral clothes that Geoffery had specified. A tantalising flash of long fishnet stockinged legs from under their long winter coats causing the mourners to do a ‘double take’.

  ‘Hello Nadine, pleased you could make it,’ said Andy, walking towards her, his hand outstretched. To his obvious embarrassment, she ignored the hand and gave him a hug and planted kisses on both cheeks.

  ‘Allo Andee. I ‘ad to bring zee girls. I could not let Geoffery down. It was ‘iz wish.’

  Seeing that everybody had arrived the Funeral Director, resplendent in long black tailcoat and waistcoat addressed the group.

  ‘Ladies and Gentlemen, I’d like to invite you to take your places in the cars outside; the hearse is on its way and will be here shortly,’ he announced theatrically.

  The group were directed into three, six door Volvos, two of which had brought Nadine and the girls from the airport earlier.

  With impressive, split second timing, just as the last mourner’s car door closed, the hearse arrived and drove to the head of the waiting convoy.

  Ben swallowed hard as he saw the beautiful floral tribute that spelled out Geoffery’s name in white flowers on top of the coffin.

  The solemn procession set off down the long hotel drive. The Funeral Director walking slowly, top hat in hand, a short distance in front of the hearse. After a hundred yards he climbed in and the convoy drove at a respectful pace for the short journey to the Church on the Hill, crossing the busy A46 and slowing the traffic briefly as it drove through the village of Badgeworth.

  After twenty minutes the cortege drove unhurriedly through the village of Churchup, seasonally dressed for Christmas, past the Bat and Ball pub bedecked with strings of flashing lights, past the Church of St Andrew, a sister church to their destination and eventually turned into a narrow lane. The cars slowed to manoeuvre some sharp ninety degree bends, the lane now barely single vehicle width.

  Geoffery’s meticulous planning, to ensure the smooth running of his funeral, included positioning marshals at the top and bottom of the narrow lane to provide traffic control. In addition, on the advice of the Funeral Director, even to hiring a gritting lorry and snow plough, to maintain access up the steep lane, in case of ice or snow.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  23rd December

  The bright winter sun hung low in a cloudless blue sky, casting long shadows across the hill, as the funeral cortège pulled up outside the 12th century Church on the Hill.

  The mourners sat silently in the cars while the Funeral Director went into the Church to make final arrangements. Satisfied that the preparations were in place, he invited them to disembark into the cold afternoon sunshine.

  Geoffery’s mahogany coffin was gently taken out of the back of the gleaming black hearse and lifted on to the shoulders of the Funeral Director’s pallbearers, two of whom, Andy was surprised to see, were women.

  It was arranged that Geoffery’s ‘long legged lovely’ pallbearer duties would only commence once inside the church. The slope up to the doorway, through the old graveyard, was too steep for the inexperienced.

  Geoffery, himself, had experienced the steepness of the ascent only three months previously, when he’d struggled to join Andy’s christening party.

  The Funeral Director’s team carried the heavy coffin up to the low narrow church door; the Funeral Director himself walking behind to prevent the casket from sliding backwards. The procession of mourners lined up behind the eight girls who took their places behind the Funeral Director and walked silently up to the church.

  As they arrived at the early English period south door, the coffin was carefully lowered to prevent the wreath being swept off by the low ancient arch and gently placed onto a shining stainless steel casket trolley.

  Ben was surprised that the ancient parish Church was deceptively bigger inside than it appeared from the outside. As he stood just inside, he looked at the line of stone pillars which supported the large 13th century annex, increasing the nave capacity for bygone congregations, introducing a second, south aisle.

  The walls were whitewashed, complementing the large black beams that spanned the roof. Flagstones led the faithful down the original narrow aisle between ordered lines of oak pews to the chancel, which was set back through a large stone archway. Beautiful stained glass east windows providing back lighting of the crucifix on the renovated Jacobean altar.

  Just inside the threshold, the eight girls slipped off their warm winter coats to reveal their figure hugging black lacy basques decorated with delicate red ribbons. Their long, seemingly endless, legs were encased in fishnet stockings; the ‘special’ funeral clothes that Geoffery had specified.

  Nadine gathered their coats together and enlisted Ben’s help to carry the large bundle of delightfully perfume impregnated coats.

  The combination of the cold December temperature and thin Basque material created an adolescent boy’s delight, as the semi naked girls prepared themselves for their solemn duties. Ben gazed open mouthed at the voluptuous display of cleavage on top of the sea of fishnet clad legs.

  Beth, who in spite of her addiction problems prided herself on looking good and had a shapely figure, now looked dowdy against the eight dancers.

  The vicar, a jolly faced lady in her sixties, greeted the procession just inside the church. Although having been previously warned about the strange escort, she was distracted by the beautiful cortege of scantily clad pallbearers. ‘Well,’ she thought. ‘Now I’ve seen it all!’

  Conscious of the Vicar’s distraction, the Funeral Director signalled to the sound technician and music filled the church.

  Geoffery had chosen Frank Sinatra singing ‘My Way’ for the procession of the coffin to the altar.

  The eight girls took their places, four each side of the coffin and followed the smiling vicar down the aisle; each one of the octet placing a manicured hand on the cold wood and gently propelling the coffin on its trolley towards the altar.

  ‘I am the resurrection and the life,’ says the Lord. ‘Those who believe in me, even though they die, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die.’…

  Meanwhile the other mourners took their places either side of the aisle, leaving the front pews empty for the lovely pallbearers.

  Andy was pleased to see that some of his hospice colleagues, who had also nursed Geoffery, as well as the hospice administrator Anne Place, were already there. Some of Andy’s Scouts were there too, beneficiaries of Geoffery’s generosity in providing the brand new Scout HQ.

  As the coffin arrived near the altar, the Funeral Director put
the brake on the trolley and his grey haired assistants ushered the scantily clad girls into the cold pews.

  The church heating was unsuccessfully battling the cold December chill and many of the girls were starting to visibly shiver. It was only a few hours earlier that they had been in the warmer climes of the south of France.

  However, thoughtfully, Nadine had already started draping the girl’s coats over the back of the pews, Ben reluctantly handing over the warm, sensual bundle to her. The girls wasted no time in hastily putting them on.

  Andy’s mind wandered back to the day Geoffery had collapsed in the very same church during Molly’s christening at the beautiful 14th century font.

  The incident was caused when Geoffery’s pain pump had delivered too much morphine and he had received an overdose, causing him to pass out. That was the same day that Geoffery decided to take on the bizarre quest to track down his Godsons and to help them sort their lives out. So much had happened in the last few months.

  The Vicar addressed the congregation from the pulpit, still smiling from the experience of the strange escort.

  ‘As you have already seen, today’s funeral is a unique occasion; the like of which I have never seen in all my years in the ministry. I guess it epitomises the lifestyle of the man whose life we celebrate today. As you would expect from such a flamboyant person as Geoffery, he has yet another surprise for you. He has recorded his own brief eulogy. So prepare yourselves to hear his voice once again.’

  The Vicar gave the sound man a cue and music from the musical Starlight Express filled the church, followed by Geoffery’s voice.

  ‘Hello everybody, thanks for coming today to see me off. I have made this eulogy myself because I didn’t want to put anybody else under pressure trying to find words, kind or otherwise, to say about me.

  I have enjoyed my time here with you all and now I’m off to organise myself in the next life.

  One piece of advice I will give you all, and that is to enjoy life. Remember, it’s not a rehearsal. As many of you know, there are many decision points in life. Always look for opportunities to expand your horizons. Remember, it’s never too late to be who you could have been. Thanks for sharing your life with me.’