Chapter 4 #2
The Headmaster looked up at her with narrowed eyes, and adjusted his spectacles. ‘Now I am most confused. Only minutes ago you were asking that they be allowed to remain.’
His condescension was the final straw. Nina drew on her life before she had married, before she had been given access to wander within these esteemed walls, before she had been told the right and wrong way of behaving. Leaning on the desk, she spoke levelly. ‘Screw you, Mr Moor.’
She swept from the building, hoping that Finn’s parting shot had been similar.
Give or take the odd word.
Nina drove over to the nearby lay-by, where she sat in her usual spot. Her legs shook. She put the heater on, until she realised her tremors were due to fear and adrenaline and not the temperature.
‘Eight million pounds, Finn? I can’t believe it. It won’t sink into my head!’ She spoke to her reflection in the windscreen, alarmed by the expression of naked fear that greeted her.
She used the time waiting for the kids to come out of school to phone their lawyer.
‘I am so sorry for your loss. I liked Finn. I liked him very much.’ Mr Firth sounded choked.
‘He liked you too.’ She rubbed her eyes, suddenly exhausted. ‘I wanted to ask you about the will?’
‘It is pretty much as we discussed before. Finn stated that in the event of his death, everything is left to you, after any and all outstanding debts have been met, yada yada, the usual.’ He paused.
‘But that’s what I am concerned about, Mr Firth. There is so much debt.’
‘Yes, I am now aware of the situation.’ He spoke softly, thankfully sparing her the need to elaborate.
‘I suppose my question is, is there anything we can do to keep some money or hide something? I know how that sounds, and I don’t mean anything illegal. I’m just trying to find a way to keep my kids’ heads above water.’
His response sent a bolt of anxiety through her gut.
‘I’m afraid it’s a bit late for that kind of planning.
If we had known the bankruptcy was looming, or just how bad things were, we might have been able to do something, put stuff in others’ names, that kind of thing.
But we didn’t know. It all came about very quickly.
I know Finn tried all he could to get the sales through quicker, but he ran out of time. I’m as shocked as you.’
He ran out of time . . . The phrase spun around her head.
Didn’t he just. Nina tried to imagine his face as the car broke through the barrier and careered down the embankment.
Was he afraid or calm? Shocked or resigned?
Nina shook her head, refusing to believe that her husband’s death was anything other than a terrible accident.
She held the phone close to her face, feeling the last of her safety ropes sliced clean by the blade of the lawyer’s reasoning.
‘There is a life insurance policy.’
‘There is?’ For the first time since she could remember, she felt a surge of hope ripple through her. It was hard not to give in to a smile of relief.
‘Oh, that’s great news!’ She threw her head back, offering up a silent prayer of thanks.
She heard the lawyer swallow. ‘It’s not as wonderful as you might think.
’ His words were a pin that deflated her bubble of happiness.
‘It pays about a million pounds, but that money will be considered part of Finn’s assets and will be taken to help settle some of the debt.
I know the house is being taken, and the creditors will all be trying to grab what they can, knowing they are one of many who are owed, and if they don’t pounce first or shout loudest, they might end up with nothing. ’
‘How much can the bailiffs take?’
He let out a sigh, as if reluctant to answer the question.
‘In short, anything of value that isn’t a structural fixture or is on your person, so your wedding ring and such is safe, but other than that, pretty much everything, unless an item can be proved to be of educational necessity or a disability aid, that kind of thing. ’
‘Oh God, I need to go and move stuff. I need to go and hide things! I need to get boxes from the basement, and I need to act fast!’
‘Yes,’ he confirmed, with what sounded like relief.
Nina cracked the window a little, grateful for the lifting breeze in the small, safe space.
She found it hard to concentrate on any one thing as a tsunami of thoughts and ideas tumbled through her mind.
She pictured tearing through the house looking for what might be of most value before the bailiffs arrived – and then where would they go?
Where on earth would they go? She pictured her boys’ faces as she told them they would not be coming back to school.
Both ideas were too horrific to contemplate.
She thought about their friends, neighbours and acquaintances who had brought casseroles to the house, written heartfelt cards of sympathy and held her tightly but briefly upon leaving.
She pictured her brothers-in-law, wondering if they could help.
Who did she feel comfortable asking for money from?
How many of them could she confidently pick up the phone to and ask if they could all come and stay for a while .
. . ? The horrible truth was that she didn’t know.
She made the decision to hit the phone the moment she got home.
‘I’m so sorry, Mrs McCarrick.’ She jumped at the sound of his voice; she was so lost in her thoughts she had quite forgotten he was on the end of the line.
‘Yes.’ Everyone was sorry; it didn’t help her one jot.
‘I know it’s probably of little comfort, but we have a farm out at Saltford. There are empty barns and a lot of space. If you need storage – and you might – please let me send one of the horseboxes down to collect and keep anything you might want for you for as long as you need.’
‘Thank you. I will think about what I need to pack and how to get it done.’
‘Please do. And I can’t stress enough that time is of the essence.’
‘Right. Thank you.’ She knew she had to go home and start making calls and packing, but wished she could instead run, and keep running.
‘It’s the least I can do for Finn. He was a good man and often did me a favour. We wanted a stable block converting to holiday lets. McCarrick Construction did a magnificent job and his invoice was very fair. Anyway’ – he coughed – ‘the offer’s there.’
‘Thank you.’
Minutes later she heard the glorious, familiar sound of her son’s laughter.
She rolled her window down a sliver further, watching Connor and his friends approach through the rearview mirror.
‘No way!’ Charlie shouted, and shoved George on the arm. ‘I think you like her and this is your way of distracting us, by ribbing me.’
‘I don’t!’ George protested, ‘I like Florence, which is pointless because she thinks I’m a dick.’
‘Because you are a dick,’ Charlie added.
‘Thanks for that!’ George laughed. ‘And as for you, Connor, not only are you a dick, but you are an unpopular dick, and girls like Phoebe only go out with the popular boys. She is way out of your league.’
Connor placed his hand on his heart and feigned being wounded.
She could see from his hesitant stance that he was trying to join in, trying for normal, as if he weren’t living under the wearying shadow of grief.
‘Hey, I know I’m not popular, but playing rugby for the first team can’t harm my chances. ’
‘Mate, it’s your only chance!’ Charlie slapped his friend’s back.
The sound of their comical banter and easy laughter made Nina’s stomach lurch.
She remembered when she had enrolled Connor into the primary school, the pride she felt at being able to drop into conversation that her boy was going to be attending.
It had felt wonderful. In her mind, it elevated her, as tangible proof that she had risen above her life of hardship.
She was no longer a poor girl from Portswood, Southampton: her son went to Kings Norton College, and that was really something.
She wore her wealth like a suit of armour; it offered protection from all that had frightened her growing up.
Marrying the newly wealthy Finn meant she didn’t have to worry about hunger, discomfort or displacement; their financial position gave her stability. Or so she had believed.
‘Smoke and mirrors,’ she whispered, ‘smoke and mirrors,’ as she watched her boy flick his long fringe from his eyes before opening the door to the passenger seat.
‘How was your day, love?’ she asked, as calmly as she could manage.
‘Okay,’ he responded as he pulled his phone from his pocket and began texting, likely someone who he had seen in person not a minute before.
‘I saw you chatting to George and Charlie. What are they up to?’
Connor shrugged. ‘Not much.’
Nina nodded and stared ahead. Today silence was welcome.
Soon Declan appeared – relatively chatty, though a little more subdued than was usual, but that was no less than she expected.
She did her best to nod in the right places, but all she could think of was telling the boys of the situation they were in.
So many questions spun in her mind. Would it be better to tell them right away and give them a chance to say goodbye to their teachers, their friends?
Or to give them one more night of blissful, uninterrupted sleep, and let them enjoy the normality of their routine?
If only she could consult with Finn. Nina pictured him again, leaving for work with a smile and a wink, sipping his coffee and kissing her on the cheek.
‘I could have helped. You could have trusted me. I would have liked that chance.’
‘What?’ Connor turned his head towards her.
‘Nothing.’ She cleared her throat, surprised that she had spoken out loud.