The Mother-in-Law(43)

“Your turn, Eamon,” I say quickly because the sooner this game is over the better. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” he says.

“Let me do this one,” Bella says, and she takes a painfully long time to come up with something, humming and huffing and pressing a forefinger dramatically to her lips.

“What’s the worst thing that’s ever happened to you?” she says finally.

Eamon is clearly surprised, and I get the feeling he was expecting something along the lines of “Have you ever had a threesome?” I have to hand it to Bella, it’s not a bad question.

“Well, divorce hasn’t been pretty,” he says, after a slight pause. “The financial ruin of it, I mean,” he says quickly to Bella. “I lost my house and a fair chunk of my savings. But I learned from it too,”

He presses a forkful of sausage into his mouth and chews slowly.

“What have you learned?” I ask.

“You know.” He shrugs. “To put safeguards in place. That kind of thing.”

“Safeguards against what?” I ask, with a laugh. “Divorce?”

“Safeguards against everything,” Eamon says, as if it’s obvious.

Even Bella is looking perplexed now. It warms her to me a little. “There’s no safeguard against everything,” she says.

Eamon swills his champagne, and winks revoltingly. “Money,” he says, “is a safeguard against everything.”





24: LUCY


THE PRESENT

The next day, we go to the lawyer’s office. I try to get out of it, but Gerard, Diana’s lawyer, told Ollie it would be a good idea for us all to attend, so even though Diana’s funeral is tomorrow and I have several hundred mass booklets to fold, prayers to choose and catering to confirm, I go. But as we sit in the waiting room, my mind is a Newton’s cradle, flicking back and forth over everything I know. Diana was found dead with an empty bottle of poison in her hand. But there was no sign of poison in her system and there is a missing cushion and evidence of smothering. Even I can see that it’s starting to look like someone staged Diana’s death to look like a suicide. But, if that was the case, why would they hide the letter away in a drawer instead of leaving it in plain sight?

None of it makes any sense.

When Gerard appears in the foyer of his office, Ollie, Nettie, Patrick and I are in opposite corners of the room. The arrival of Gerard, however, brings a welcome focal point and we shuffle together.

“My condolences,” he says.

“Thank you,” we mutter.

Gerard went to school with Tom, but they were probably more acquaintances than friends. Ollie and Nettie have met him many times, and I have met him briefly once or twice and he’s always seemed harmless if a little dull. I have a vague memory of Tom telling Diana that he’d invited Gerard over for a Christmas drink once and Diana groaning. Clearly she thought Gerard was dull too.

Gerard ushers us into his office and then, noticing we are two seats short, pops out into the hallway again. Ollie, Nettie, Patrick and I remain in the room in excruciating silence, looking everywhere but at each other. Nettie, I notice, doesn’t even look at Patrick.

“Right, then,” Gerard says, returning pushing a wheely chair, “thank you for coming in. Usually we mail out letters to our clients letting them know they are the beneficiaries of an estate but I wanted you to come in to the office because this estate is a little more . . . yes, in here, Sherry,” he says to the flustered middle-aged receptionist who appears, pushing a second wheely chair. She stops it in front of Ollie and scurries out again. “Thanks, Sherry. Sorry, as I was saying, your parents’ estate is a little more complicated than most of our clients’.”

This isn’t news to us. An estate as large as Tom and Diana’s is bound to be complicated. It’s the reason, I assume, that Tom had Gerard act as an executor, rather than Ollie or Nettie.

“Why don’t you go ahead and sit?” he says to Ollie, who is still standing despite the chair in front of him.

“I’m good here,” Ollie replies.

“As you like. Anyway, as you know, Tom and Diana have a sizable estate. There are the properties, the cars, the boat. There’s the share portfolio, the furniture, home décor, jewelry, and personal effects. And there is a not insignificant amount of cash.”

“Tom mentioned this once or twice,” Patrick says with a chuckle.

Gerard folds his hands in front of him and sits forward, as if steeling himself. “Yes, well . . . as it turns out, Tom’s will named Diana as the sole beneficiary of his estate. In the event of her death, the estate was to be divided equally between Ollie and Antoinette. However . . . a few weeks ago, Diana came to see me about making some changes.” Gerard rubs his brow, his face becoming pinched for a second, as though he has a migraine. His eyes remain lowered. “During that meeting, Diana requested to name her charity the sole beneficiary of the estate.”

The room becomes so quiet I can hear the traffic outside, the clock ticking, even the receptionist scratching around her desk outside, filing, stapling, typing.

“Diana did say she was going to communicate the change to you, but it was made so recently, she obviously didn’t have the chance.”

I feel Ollie shift behind me and I spin to face him.