nodded mutely and returned her eyes to the printout. The trust fund set up by her father for her benefit currently held a total of £2,238,366. She was not surprised to see the sheet of paper begin to shake. She lowered her hand until it was resting on her thigh, struggling to comprehend the enormity of this news and its implications for her whole life. The lawyer continued.
‘I will have to check the exact nature of the fund to see what the inheritance tax implications might be. I ran it across a colleague who has more experience of financial matters, and his initial reaction was that it looks pretty watertight. We will have to seek a ruling from the Revenue, so you had better be prepared to lose a proportion of this in tax.’ He gave her another smile. ‘It would still leave a tidy sum even if you do have a tax bill to pay.’
Holly blinked, set the paper down on the desktop, and took a deep breath. ‘But how on earth did he manage to save all that money? It’s a fortune.’
‘He told me he had a very successful company during his years in Australia. He sold up before coming back to the UK. I imagine this money is the proceeds of that sale.’
‘What sort of company, Mr Inglis?’ She gave him an apologetic look. ‘You see, I know next to nothing about him.’
‘I can imagine. Certainly, when he spoke of you, he was similarly ignorant of where you were and what you were doing. As far as I can remember, I believe he told me he was involved with the wine trade.’
‘Did you know him well?’
‘I met him on a number of occasions so I had the opportunity to get to know him quite well.’ He caught Holly’s eye. ‘He was a fine man, your father.’
‘Thank you, Mr Inglis.’ Holly was pleased to hear her voice sounding level. ‘Thank you very much. That’s good to hear.’ Inside, her mind was in turmoil. How could it be that the callous, selfish bastard who had abandoned his wife and child all those years ago could have left her such an amazing bequest and be described as a fine man? Somehow, she realised she was going to have to do a lot of rethinking about her father. ‘I’ve got so many questions for you. First and foremost, what did he die of? Presumably it was cancer?’
The solicitor nodded his head. ‘I’m afraid so. A very aggressive form of pancreatic cancer. I remember he told me it was only diagnosed in May and he died on November fifth. I saw him in Brookford in October, when he drafted his will, and he was already bedridden.’
‘And the lady mentioned in his will? Have you any idea who she is?’
‘Yes, indeed. She lives in the village and it was she who looked after your father in his final months. I believe she’s a distant relative of some description.’ Holly nodded, glad that there had been somebody at his side at the end. That reminded her of something else.
‘I was wondering if you knew anything about the burial. When did that take place? Was there a service? Was my father buried in the village?’ The solicitor nodded.
‘Yes, he died in the hospice in Exeter and there was a service at Exeter’s crematorium. I’m sorry we weren’t able to contact you in time. And then, at your father’s request, his ashes were laid to rest in the churchyard at Brookford. Mr Trimble, the postmaster you met today, will be able to give you further information.’
He ran through a list of other matters, obtaining her signature to various documents as he went along. Finally, he handed over a hefty envelope. ‘You should find all the documents you need in here, along with a copy of the will, and a sealed letter written by your father to you. If you need anything else, please don’t hesitate to contact me.’
‘Thank you, Mr Inglis, you’ve been very helpful. I think I’ll go off and digest everything you’ve told me.’ Holly walked back to the car, her mind in turmoil. It was as if the cork had blown out of the bottle and her emotions were spraying everywhere. She truly didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. On the one hand she had suddenly become a millionaire, while on the other, she had lost her dad. She retraced her steps to the car and climbed in beside Julia. Her face must have betrayed her inner conflict.
‘What the bloody hell’s happened, Hol? You look like somebody’s just slapped you.’ She sounded concerned.
‘No, Jules, nothing bad. It’s just that he’s left me a load of money and I don’t know what to think any more.’ She glanced down at the envelope clutched in her hand. ‘The man said there’s a letter in here from my dad.’
Holly reached in for the letter. It was in a sealed white envelope and it contained two handwritten sheets of paper.
My dearest Holly,
If you are reading this, it will mean I am dead. I regret so many things in my life and this last regret is just one of many where you are concerned. I wish I had been able to see you again at least once before my death. I have often imagined you as a grown woman, and am sure you are a fine, lovely girl and a credit to any father.
I worked hard throughout my life in Australia and I draw some small consolation from the fact that I have been able to provide for you after my death. And I fear that death will soon be upon me. This cancer continues to resist all efforts to slow its pace and they tell me now I only have weeks, rather than months, before me.
As I reach the end of my life, I realise just how much I have missed watching you grow up and develop into womanhood. I know now I should have done more to locate and contact you, but the distance between us always put me off trying, apart from that one time. And, to be honest, I have been afraid to try again. It is inevitable that your mother will have poisoned you against me. It would have broken my heart to have had to face rejection by you, Holly, so I chose to remember you as you were; a dear, sweet, loving daughter. It is only now that I realise how cowardly I have been. I should have risked your hatred and made another effort.
I hope at least you will enjoy the house and enjoy my legacy. Stephen Inglis is a good man and a fine solicitor. You can trust him to look after your affairs. Be assured, my dearest Holly, I never stopped loving you, even if I fear you were probably made to stop loving me.
From the father you never had to the daughter I always missed. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me for my cowardice.
Holly read it through twice. A teardrop ran down her cheek and landed on the page. Reaching for her damp tissue, she handed the letter across to Julia without comment. After she had also read the letter, the two of them sat in the car side by side without speaking for a long while before Holly pulled herself together. ‘There’s one thing that puzzles me. He talks about having tried to contact me one time. To the best of my knowledge, that never happened.’
‘But at least it confirms that he went to Australia, like your mum said.’
Holly nodded. ‘Yes, the solicitor said he owned a company over there, something to do with wine.’ She stretched her legs and straightened her back. ‘I wonder when he came back.’
‘And why?’
‘Yes, and why?’
Friday
‘Hello again, Holly. Have you come to stay this time?’ Mr Trimble, the postmaster, had a good memory for faces and names.
‘Hello,
