Chapter 60
Ludo
There’s something ghoulish about the reading of a will.
Obviously, a person’s worldly possessions need to be disposed of and distributed somehow, but gathering in a lawyer’s office to hear these instructions from beyond the grave read aloud felt terribly cold and grasping.
Like grief had given way to greed. Mummy, Father, Jonty and I sat in a semicircle in front of a reassuringly wooden desk.
Behind the desk sat a woman in her fifties in red-framed glasses and dangly earrings, which were much cheerier than the occasion called for.
Her name was Sarah, and she told us she had inherited Uncle Ben when she had inherited her father’s practice.
“Mr Diamond made this will just three years ago. After his sister died. Are we ready?”
We all nodded.
She began “I, Mr Benjamin David Samuel Diamond” and read out all the formal bits about addresses and executors and then, suddenly, stopped.
“Look, I can save us all a lot of time here,” she said. “Ludo, Mr Diamond has left everything to you.”
“I’m sorry?” My brain didn’t trust my ears. I felt my face flush with blood.
“The flat in Connaught Square, last valued three years ago at ￡1.75 million, all its contents, and a sum of about ￡750,000 in various accounts, bonds, and investments. There will be death duties to pay, of course, which will take a chunk of that. But the cash should cover it. I’d say you’re pretty well set up for life, if you’re smart with it.
Congratulations, Ludo. You’re a young man of independent means. ”
“Golly,” I said, stunned.
“Congratulations, Ludo!” Father said, standing and putting out a hand for me to shake, like that was a completely normal human reaction. Sometimes the alien lizards that control him really give the game away.
“Is it just me, or is it hot in here?” I felt woozy. I loosened my tie. Why was I wearing a tie? “Can someone please open a window?” The room went fuzzy. Then it went black.