2. The Letter
2
The Letter
Bridget
“B ridget,” Ms Elswood pops her head out of her office. She waves me over and I dread to think what she wants now. I work at the PurrInn, an animal luxury hotel. It’s a fancy way of describing a cattery with insane features. Cats boarded with us receive only the best cat food, have a TV in their room as well as a tablet, and owners can call them daily. They can also book us to read their feline companion a good night story each evening or order extended one-on-one time with one of the staff members. Of course, all of this costs extra.
“Yes, Ms Elswood?” I join her in her opulent office. She’s at least five years younger than me but still insists I call her by her last name.
“Bridget, you didn’t read a goodnight story to Captain Whiskers.” I want to roll my eyes. That particular cat, with the most ridiculous name ever, sleeps most of the day. He couldn’t give a fuck if I read him a story.
“Did he complain?” The minute the words are out, I know I shouldn’t have said them.
“No. But I reviewed the CCTV,” she snaps. What the fuck? That is creepy as hell. “I carry out spot checks, I told you when I hired you. Captain Whiskers’ owner paid extra for us to read to the cat.”
“I didn’t have a chance with Lilo off sick. I’ll read him two today,” I suggest.
“We provide first class service here and if you’re not willing to go the extra mile you might want to reflect on whether this is the right job for you,” she dismisses me from her office. Bitch .
As predicted, the cat pays no attention to me as I read to him for fifteen minutes before packing up for the day. Maybe I should bring along my smutty romance and read that to the cats. Nobody would hear me except for the furballs and at least I’ll get some enjoyment out of it.
Me
The bitch made me read to that snotty cat for 15 min.
I drop a message in our group chat as I get home. If anyone understands my suffering, it’s these crazy ladies. Amelia and Miranda have known each other since childhood. I ran into them in a coffee shop earlier this year and we became instant friends. When Amelia rekindled a relationship with her ex, Ben, she introduced us to his sister, Fi, and his business partner’s fiancée, Lizzie. And somehow, we all hit it off immediately.
Amelia
Does she actually think the cats listen? Smutty acts like he’s royalty, but all he cares about is that he’s warm, he's being fed regularly and he gets belly rubs.
Bella weaves between my legs as if to confirm Amelia’s point. Yes, she just wants some food.
Me
That’s what I said to her. She reminded me that the owner had paid for it so I’ve to do it regardless.
Fi
I don’t know how you keep working there.
I’ve complained about the job plenty of times but it’s so convenient and actually pays very well. Who wouldn’t want to get paid to play with cats all day? I was a stay-at-home mum throughout my marriage and when it all ended I applied for just about anything that paid a fairly decent salary. Of course, with my love for art, I bombarded the London museums with my CV, but without any degree or experience, I had no chance. So, in the end it was between the PurrInn and becoming a delivery driver and I certainly prefer dealing with cats to people.
Lizzie
I’m with Fi. Fuck that bitch and get a new job.
Miranda
That. But with less swearing.
Lizzie
:-P
If only it were that easy to get a new job. I’m not even sure if I really want one, and I like working at the PurrInn most of the time.
Me
Are we still up for girls night on Friday?
Lizzie
Abso-fucking-lutely.
Fi
Yes!
Amelia
Of course!
Miranda
Eww, my husband just made me listen to a song about farts. Stay single, Bri! And yes to girls night!
Their replies make me smile. We try to get together as often as we can which between jobs, significant others (aside from me they are all in a relationship) and all the other things life throws at us, isn’t anywhere near often enough.
“Right, kitty, how about some dinner?” I get a pitiful meow in return. I think I could feed her a bucket of food every morning and she would still act like she hadn’t eaten for days when I get back in the evening.
I’m about to drop my phone on the counter when it rings. I don’t recognise the number but my phone doesn’t flag it as spam. I hesitate for a second before answering.
“Hello?”
“Good afternoon, Ms Johnson. This is Patrick Pierce, Ruth Wilson’s solicitor.”
“Oh yes, hi.” We’d spoken briefly after the funeral as my aunt appointed him as the executer of her will.
“Ms Johnson, I’ve carried out all the necessary checks and have completed all the relevant legal steps and can now inform you about your inheritance.”
Aunty Ruth had sold her house for a good amount of money before she moved to the nursing home. She hoped it would pay for her care so she wouldn’t need to get council support. Her nursing home was lovely but the fees were really high; no way would the council have paid for it. If her money had run out the council would have moved her to a more affordable option. Luckily it didn’t come to that.
My aunty was in the nursing home for two years so I don’t expect there to be any money left. I’m so glad that she could spend her last years in a comfortable and safe environment that gave her dignity and companionship, I couldn't care less if she didn't leave me anything.
“I can pop into your office on Thursday, if that works for you?” I’ve the day off and was only planning to do some food shopping as girls night is at mine this week.
“Thursday… I’ve some time around 11 a.m. Is that convenient?”
“Sure, thank you.”
“Great. Have a good evening, Ms Johnson,” he ends the call. I was the only one in the family that was very close to Ruth but I expect that she left something in her will to my cousin Bertram. Ruth, my mum, and aunty Janet were close when they were all alive. My mum died of cancer four years ago and aunty Janet, who was the youngest in the group, had a skiing accident when I was in my late twenties. Of the whole extended family only myself and Bertram, Janet’s son, are left.
It makes me sad to think there isn’t anyone else. I should really stay in touch with Bertram more. But he lives up north so it’s not like I can just pop over for a cuppa.
“I know, I know,” I reply to Bella’s cries as she bumps her head into my leg. “I’m just glad I’ve you.”
I look at the clock for the tenth time. The girls are late and I’m dying for them to get here. My gaze falls back onto the document folder on my kitchen counter. I still can’t quite believe the news the solicitor gave me.
When I went to his office yesterday I was expecting to get her lovely necklace with the silver pendant and not much else. I did get the necklace but—
“Finally,” I mumble at the knock on the door.
“Come in,” I usher Amelia into the house, Fi, Miranda and Lizzie squeeze into the little entrance hall behind her so I can shut the door and keep the cold and rain out. Only once the outer door is closed can we open the one to the living room as otherwise Bella would have bounced and tried to make a break for freedom.
“Oh my god, someone move,” Amelia groans as she’s squashed against the door frame.
“It’s safe to open the door,” I call out, leaning against the entrance to the cottage.
They burst into the living room, giggling and laughing, and giving Bella a bit of a scare as she patiently waited for a chance to do a runner.
“Hey, babes,” Miranda air kisses me before hanging up her coat in the entrance hall.
“I’m so glad you’re all finally here, I’ve such amazing news,” I jump excitedly like a little girl.
“Don’t blame us,” Amelia objects whilst toeing off her shoes. “This one’s like a rabbit,” she points at Lizzie.
“Hey, Coop’s been away for a whole week golfing in the Lake District, as you well know, since your beloved was with him. Are you telling me you and Ben didn’t shag all night?” she challenges Amelia who promptly turns beetroot red.
“None of your business but I was still ready on time.”
“What can I say, you have more self-restraint than I do,” Lizzie giggles. Fi has disappeared into the kitchen, probably to get some plates for the nibbles they brought with them, but I’m sure the bedroom talk about her little brother was another reason.
“Well, glad you all got shagged but now please sit, sit. I need to tell you my news.” I shoo them to the sofa and wait to get their full attention. Lizzie and Amelia argue as always about who gets to sit in the grandfather chair next to the fireplace, which they both love so much. I’m glad to see Amelia win this time because I’m pretty sure last time Lizzie declared it her kingdom for the whole evening.
Miranda rolls her eyes at their shenanigans, directing a grin at me. She doesn’t care where she sits as long as she gets a blanket because she’s always cold. I know her, so today I’ve made sure the fire is lit. Still, she drops on the sofa where I left her blanket and tucks her feet under her so she can completely cocoon herself.
“Oh great, and I get the stool again?” Fi groans as she places the tray with plates, mugs, the pot of tea I had prepared and glasses for whatever drinks they girls brought on the table.
“Actually, sit next to Miranda and Lizzie, I take the stool.” It’s a sturdy poof I normally use to prop up my legs. My living room is small and there is only so much furniture I can fit in.
Lizzie reaches for a piece of cake when I stop her. “No, no food yet. I need your full attention,” I giggle excitedly and bounce on the poof.
“Oh my god, what happened? Did you quit your job?” Fi asks as she drops next to the others.
“Not yet,” I smirk. There is a small gasp from Miranda and all eyes are on me. “I had a meeting yesterday with my aunty Ruth’s solicitor. She left me two hundred,” I take a deep breath, “and fifty thousand pounds.”
“Holy shit,” Lizzie exclaims.
“That’s amazing,” Amelia chips in.
“You know I didn’t expect anything. I was just glad that she had great care at the end. So it all came as a bit of a surprise. And the best thing is that with what I get and what she left my cousin the estate is below the threshold so there is no tax to pay,” I clap happily. When I heard the news I was worried the government would be due a chunk of it, but it turns out they won’t and it is all mine. Mine!
“Oh my god, what are you going to do with it?” Miranda asks fiddling with the cork on a bottle of Prosecco.
“Give me,” Lizzie snatches it from her hand before popping the cork like a pro.
“I don’t know. I can definitely resign for now and take some time to look for something better, or maybe I go back to Uni or—” I accept a glass of bubbly from Miranda and gulp down half of it.
“Or what?” Amelia asks.
“I’ll get to that. But first, she also left me a letter. Want to hear it?” It’s very personal but these four women are like family.
“Sure!” Amelia is quick to reply as she half gets off the chair to grab some crisps from the table. Her left foot remains on the chair to symbolise her claim to said piece of furniture. We are all in our forties but throw us together in a room and you get the crazy attitude of twenty-something carefree girls. The only thing separating us from our younger selves is the knowledge that bending down and picking something up from the floor could be enough strain for our backs to give out.
I pull the folded letter from my pocket, but just thinking about what Ruth has written makes me well up.
“You read it,” I hold it out to Lizzie.
Lizzie hesitates for a second but then nods and unfolds the paper. Dear Bri, Whenever I say your name, I still see the little girl in front of me that spent hours picking raspberries in my garden. Your hands were pink and so was your mouth as half of the fruit would find its way straight into your tummy. I never had a chance to have my own children but I always thought of you as a daughter. I was and I am so proud of you. When you were young you had so many dreams and then you fell in love and being a mum and a wife became your new aspiration. I always wondered if one day you would regret not having gone on one of the trips you planned out on the globe in my living room or that you hadn’t finished that degree you kept talking about. Don’t get me wrong, I adore Ruthie and Christopher. You’re an amazing mum and I don’t believe for a second that you regret your time with William even if it didn’t end how you had hoped. But now that your children are grown up and following their dreams, maybe it’s time to do something for yourself. I know you, you will spend what I’ve left to you on sensible things but I beg you to use some of it to go wild for once. Leave your responsibilities behind and have a good time. Explore the world, a new hobby, a new love, but use it to create some memories that you’ll look back on in old age with a mischievous laugh. You deserve it and you need it. I’m just sad that I won’t be around to see you travel the globe, to hear the stories of all your adventures and witness you glowing with happiness. I’ve never known anyone who throws herself into everything with so much passion and joy. It broke my heart to see this passion die a little after your divorce. So, my Bri, go out there, find your passion, fall in love with life and spread your joy. The world will be a better place for it. Lots of Love Ruth