Chapter 37
‘Mum, I want to see Coffie too.’
‘And I want you to go to bed. It’s nine o’clock.’
‘I won’t sleep. There’s too much stuff in my head. I might as well stay up.’
Charlie was bluffing. It didn’t matter how much was going round in his head; once that head hit the pillow, it was as though a light had gone out. He was the best sleeper Holly had ever known.
A knock sounded at the door and the enormous outline of Holly’s colleague in chambers and possibly only friend appeared behind the glass. Charlie shot forward. ‘I’ll get it.’
A rush of cold air shot through the house and, on the doorstep, Coffie bent to look her son in the eyes.
‘Step aside,’ he drawled in his low, rich Caribbean accent. Coffie was from Guyana.
Charlie raised both arms and shimmied. He actually shimmied. ‘Let the man come through,’ he growled, in a passable imitation of the huge man on the doorstep.
The two fist-bumped and Coffie entered the house.
He was in gym clothes but smelled of lemon and rosemary.
His hair, short and tightly curled, was damp from the shower or possibly from rain.
As always, he seemed far too big for Holly’s tiny hallway.
As always, he was the most beautiful man she’d ever laid eyes on.
And, as she invariably did, she gave a silent sigh. Couldn’t happen.
‘We saved you some lasagne.’ Charlie had taken Coffie’s hand and was dragging him through, past Holly, towards the kitchen. She pushed down a wave of jealousy – Charlie hardly ever held her hand – and told herself her son would do anything to avoid going to bed.
‘This is it,’ he was saying as she followed them into the kitchen. She couldn’t see round Coffie but guessed he was being shown the letter and its accompanying token that she and Charlie, after a deeply unpleasant hour, had found in the recycling bin.
‘Have you been eating off it?’ Coffie was staring down at the letter as Holly took up her place at the third edge of the kitchen table.
‘Mum put it in the bin. Can you believe it? She didn’t even tell me about it. Imagine if I hadn’t heard about it at school today. The bin men come on Monday. It would have been lost forever. How much do you think we’ll get?’
‘Easy, tiger.’ Coffie held up a hand to calm Charlie’s outburst. Another man, a less sensitive one, might have patted him on the head but Coffie never touched Charlie unless invited to do so. ‘Let me read and inwardly digest.’
‘You’re funny,’ Charlie said. Holly rolled her eyes. Now, he got a sense of humour? Leaving them to it, she took the remains of the lasagne from the oven.
‘“This is your token,” Charlie was saying, as she found salad in the fridge. “Keep it safe. Tell no one. On the event of my death, it entitles you to an equal share of my wealth. Good luck.” I know it off by heart.’
Holly piled a plate high. ‘Charlie, give Coffie room to eat. If you’re staying up, you need to sit down and calm down.’
Her son ignored her, of course. ‘Mum says you know about wills and stuff. What do you think? Is it real?’
Coffie ate slowly, his eyes only leaving the letter to glance at the token itself.
Once, he picked the coin up and turned it over.
He’d know some Latin, all barristers did.
Giving him time, Holly focused on tidying the kitchen.
Trying to curb Charlie’s excitement had taken all her emotional energy that evening; she’d had no space in her head even to start processing her own feelings.
Money. A lot of money. She didn’t need to worry about her parents anymore. She could sort Chris out once and for all. She could give up the other work.
It could not be that easy.
After what felt like an age, when she could sense Charlie on the verge of exploding, Coffie put his knife down. He looked up at her.
‘Have you spoken to the firm directly?’ he asked.
‘I meant to. I took a picture. I was going to send it over. But I’ve had so much going on the last couple of days I never got round to it.’
‘Is it real?’ Charlie demanded.
‘Barker, Momen and Dodds not issuing any sort of denial suggests it might be,’ Coffie said, in that slow, easy way he had. ‘They’re a big firm, major players, and there’s been enough publicity for it to have appeared on their radar. If it was a scam, I’d expect them to be all over it.’
‘Why?’ Holly whispered. Why would a man she’d never met leave her money?
‘That said, it’s early days,’ Coffie went on. ‘When did this arrive? Wednesday? We could see something from them over the weekend, or early next week.’ He smiled down at Charlie. ‘I wouldn’t order the Axopar just yet, youngster.’
The Axopar was a high-speed motorboat, Charlie’s current favourite.
‘Let’s say for the sake of argument that the letter is genuine,’ Holly said. ‘That Barker, Momen and Dodds are acting in good faith. What then?’
‘According to social media, so this might be incorrect, recipients can make a half-hour appointment with the firm to find out more information,’ Coffie told her. ‘Nothing will be given out over the phone. And the appointment will cost one hundred and fifty pounds.’
‘Can we do it? Mum, we have to do it.’
‘Hold your horses, youngster, the lawyers are speaking. Even if the firm is genuine, it’s still fraught with problems. How many tokens have been sent out?
If half the population of Cornwall have received one, there might not be much to go around.
What happens if this Logan Quick character changes his mind?
There could be a whole lot of disappointed beneficiaries out there.
Would they have a case to challenge the new will? ’
‘We know there’s at least two,’ Charlie piped up. ‘A girl’s mum at St Barnabus’s got one.’
‘It says tell no one,’ Holly pointed out. ‘Have we violated the terms simply by telling you?’
Coffie thought for a second. ‘Hard to say. We could argue that was advice, rather than a condition. More to the point, it says keep it safe. That’s the bit that worries me.’
‘Why?’ Charlie asked.
Coffie took his time, glancing down at Charlie before meeting Holly’s eyes. ‘Are you the named beneficiary or just the token holder? What happens if this token is lost or stolen? Do all the benefits of the will pass with it?’
‘She threw it in the bin,’ Charlie told him. ‘I can’t believe she threw it in the bin.’
‘Do you have a safe?’ Coffie asked Holly. She shook her head. At the same time, she felt an urge to get up and lock the front door.
‘You mean someone could steal it?’ Charlie looked from one grown-up to the other. Damn, she’d known it was a mistake to let him stay up. Now he’d be anxious about losing the wretched thing.
And she was too, she realised. She was suddenly conscious of how vulnerable she and Charlie were. A woman alone with a young kid. A woman who would do anything, give up anything, to keep that kid safe. Was anything in the world more vulnerable than a mother?
‘You should keep it,’ Charlie told Coffie. ‘Keep it safe for us. No one will mess with you.’
When Coffie met Holly’s glance she couldn’t read what she saw. She watched his eyes drop to the token. Did his hand, then, give a tiny, involuntary start towards it?
Charlie grabbed it and pushed it in front of the man at her table. ‘Mum, we should give it to Coffie. He’ll keep it safe for us.’
Coffie stared down at the token. Catching the light, it seemed to gleam up at them.
Holly realised she was holding her breath. Was she about to lose her second friend in two days? And this time one she cared about?
After what seemed an age, Coffie picked up his knife and resumed eating.
‘Charlie, I would not touch that thing if you begged me. But I advise you and your mum,’ he glanced at Holly again, ‘to put it somewhere very safe and tell no one, absolutely no one, that you have it.’
‘I won’t.’ Without questioning, Charlie made the promise that Holly didn’t think she’d ever have been able to wring out of him. ‘I won’t tell anyone. I swear.’
An hour later, when Charlie had been persuaded – by Coffie of course – to go to bed, Holly showed her friend out.
‘Guess I can’t ask you out anymore now you’re an heiress,’ he said, as they stood by the front door. ‘You’ll be second-guessing my motives.’
‘Yeah, yeah.’ Pretending not to take him seriously had become the way they dealt with Coffie’s refusal to hide his interest. One day, she knew, they’d have a serious conversation about why she wouldn’t go out with him.
He’d already refused to accept that she didn’t find him attractive.
You can’t hide chemistry, he’d said. And you and I have it in spades.
And don’t give me any malarky about being a single mum. Charlie loves me.
Malarky about being a high-class whore would probably do it. And then the man whose opinion she valued most would despise her.
‘Do you think I should make that appointment?’ she asked, reluctant to let him leave.
‘I don’t think you have a choice,’ he replied. ‘But be careful, Holly.’
‘Charlie won’t tell anyone. And neither will I.’
‘I didn’t mean that. Something about this whole business feels wrong. I think someone’s messing with you.’
‘It’s working,’ she replied.
He shook his head and reached for the door. ‘No, love. It’s only just begun.’