Chapter 18
18
The notaire’s office located in a street off the Croisette had an old-fashioned serious air about it. Shown into a meeting room, the four of them shook hands with Monsieur Caumont, the notaire, who was waiting for them before taking their places around the long highly polished oak table and sitting on matching chairs with green leather padded seats. The notaire sat on the large carver chair at the head of the table, a thick folder of papers in front of him.
He looked at Agnes. ‘As his wife you?—’
‘Ex wife,’ Francine interrupted. ‘They were divorced years ago.’
‘ Non . I do not think so,’ the notaire answered. ‘I have been the deceased’s notaire now for many years, I would know about the divorce. And Monsieur Agistini refers to her as his wife in his most recent will, dated six months ago. I have a copy of the will here for you,’ and he passed a large envelope down the table to Agnes.
Wide-eyed, Francine looked at her mother. ‘We were still married,’ Agnes said quietly. Francine closed her eyes and shook her head in disbelief.
‘To continue,’ the notaire said. ‘Agnes, as his wife, inherits the right to live in the house until her death, or if she agrees to move out, a quarter of the value of the whole estate. You, Francine, as his only child, inherit the rest. There is also a small gift of five thousand euros for Jasmine Mansell. Straightforward French inheritance rules apply. But.’ He paused. ‘The reason I ask you to come is not because the will itself is complicated as it stands. The complication I need to talk to you about is that someone has come forward claiming to be Oscar’s son and as such has a claim on his estate. Should it prove to be a true claim, it changes how the will would need to be applied.’
‘As a male will he have a greater claim on the estate than anyone else? Like Maman?’ Francine asked.
‘Not a greater claim but a shared one. All children, legitimate or illegitimate, have an equal claim. In this case it means the two of you would share the residue of the estate, after Madame Agistini’s quarter share.’
Silence greeted his words. It was Agnes who broke the silence. ‘Do we know this man’s name?’
‘Serge Cortez.’
‘Wouldn’t he use the name Agistini if he was Oscar’s son?’ Zazz asked.
‘His mother chose not to name his father on the birth certificate – another petit complication – so it is his mother’s married name he uses. As does his own son.’
‘How old is this Serge Cortez?’ Agnes asked quietly.
‘Fifty-one.’
Agnes gave a thoughtful nod at his reply.
‘His maman accompanied him to see me and has signed an affidavit swearing that Oscar was the father of her son. However,’ the notaire paused, ‘I would be failing in my legal duty if I didn’t advise you to apply to the court for permission to have a DNA test done to confirm. And I have told him this. Unfortunately, he is not happy about it, although he knows he has little choice if he wants to follow through with his claim.’
‘Maybe he and his mother are lying then?’ Francine said.
‘I did explain very carefully to Madame Cortez the legal penalties for lying in this instance and she assured me she was letting the truth be known now for her son. And he has now agreed to having one done but there is a condition attached.’
‘What is the condition?’ Theo asked.
‘That Francine proves she is Oscar’s daughter by having a DNA test too.’
‘That’s ridiculous. My parents were married at the time of my birth,’ Francine said crossly. ‘Of course he was my father. Anyway, surely it’s impossible to do a DNA test – I understand you need saliva or something like a strand of hair and Oscar is dead and already cremated.’
‘It is still possible to do a paternal DNA test,’ the notaire said. ‘It would involve both mothers as well as you and Serge. If the house hasn’t been cleared or cleaned it might be an idea to look in Oscar’s bedroom. There may possibly be a comb with some strands of his hair caught in the teeth,’ he shrugged. ‘It would be worth you taking a look to make things easier.’
Francine sighed. ‘ D’accord . But surely we can do a DNA paternity test ourselves – we don’t need to involve the court. That is bound to hold things up.’
Monsieur Caumont shook his head. ‘Personal DNA tests are illegal here in France. The only way to do them is with official permission that is granted through the court.’
‘What happens if we simply accept the fact that he is Oscar’s son as his mother has sworn on oath that he is and proceed on that basis?’ Agnes asked quietly.
The notaire gave her a serious look. ‘You would do that?’
‘Maman, you shouldn’t just accept a stranger’s word and give away our rights.’
‘I agree with your daughter and would advise strongly against that action,’ Monsieur Caumont said. ‘Whilst the signed affidavit makes it highly probable that Serge Cortez is genuinely Oscar’s illegitimate son, it should be fully investigated and proved and that, to my mind, means a paternal DNA test.’
Agnes sighed. ‘I need to let this news sink in and think about what to do.’
Theo pushed his chair back and stood up. ‘It’s a lot to take in and we need to discuss it. Can we make a rendez-vous in a few days?’
The notaire started to pick up his folder and pulled out a sealed envelope before replacing the papers he’d taken out earlier. ‘Certainly. Serge Cortez asked me to give you this at the end of our meeting,’ and he held the envelope out to Agnes. ‘He told me it is from his mother. If it makes a problem for you then I would ask you to let me know the contents. D’accord ?’
‘ Merci ,’ Agnes said, nodding in agreement, and put it in her handbag together with the copy of the will the notaire had passed to her earlier.
‘Let me show you out. I’ll see you in a few days’ time then, when hopefully you have reached the decision to allow me to instigate the DNA tests. A bient?t .’