Chapter 50 #2
She still couldn’t quite believe it. Nothing had changed here since Constance had sat at that table.
Well maybe everything was a bit cleaner, a bit more cared for, but essentially, everything was the same.
Constance’s cardigan was still draped across her chair, her reading glasses were left in the centre of the table, the chain wrapped carefully around them, and the clothes brush she’d used every day was tucked away on the shelf as if she might pick it up at any moment.
To take her mind off things, Ros took the old brush down and began to clean out random hairs and bits of fluff with a sewing pin that had been popped into the seam of the curtain.
She was lost in thought when Jake pushed the back door in then.
He was hardly recognisable from his usual Hawaiian-shirt-and-short-wearing self.
Today, he was decked out in what looked like a really expensive suit, linen with a crisp white shirt and a neat leather case in his hand.
He looked every inch the competent and successful lawyer that he was in his city life.
‘Perfect timing, Jake.’
Heather set about placing the tea pot on the table. She and Ros had already put out cups and Constance’s favourite jug with milk and biscuits just in case they fancied a nibble of something.
‘So, then, shall we get started?’ Jake said. Ros just wanted this morning to be over. At least then she could continue thinking of Constance sitting here with them, not as she had been in those last few days when she was drifting away.
‘Right,’ Jake said, taking the seat that had always been Constance’s, which Ros thought was maybe for the best on this occasion.
‘Now, as you ladies know, Constance asked me here to help her set her wishes in order not very long before she died. She was very clear about how she wanted things to be and she asked me specifically to make it clear that these are her wishes…’
‘Of course.’ Ros and Heather looked at each other. Whatever Constance’s wishes were, they would do their best to make sure they were carried out.
‘So,’ Jake murmured, opening the ribbon with a little ceremony, keeping his eye on the contents of the folder so none of the loose pages escaped.
He took a pair of glasses from his inside pocket and suddenly, he looked like a real solicitor – no-one would imagine he was Surfer Dude now.
When he began to read, Ros thought she might begin to cry again – really, it was too much.
Hadn’t she cried enough before this, she didn’t want to cry again now.
‘ I, Constance Macken, resident and owner of Ocean’s End, of Pin Hill Island in the County of Mayo, being of sound mind, not acting under duress or undue influence and fully understanding the nature and extent of all my property and of this disposition thereof, hereby make, publish and declare this document to be my Last Will and Testament and hereby absolutely revoke any and all other wills and amendments previously made by me… ’
It was too much. Ros couldn’t help it: she began to think of Constance that day she had brought Jake to see her.
She remembered her, sitting up in bed, so delighted that she was setting everything straight, as she called it.
Now, Ros felt her throat begin to close over with emotion and tears filled her eyes so she could hardly see the table in front of her.
She hung her head low, willed herself not to sniffle and, instead, settled on just wiping away her tears as Jake continued to get through the legal jargon of the will.
‘We will now move on to the disposition of property in the will,’ Jake said and he leaned forward, sipped some of his tea and turned over the page.
‘ I devise and bequeath my property, both real and personal and wherever situated to be shared in equal parts between my closest friends Heather Banks and Rosalind Stokes. This includes both the house and lands at Ocean’s End and all rights relating to my mother’s literary estate.
It is my dear wish that they will set up a foundation in her memory, to help other writers, readers of her books and anyone who feels they might benefit from time spent at Ocean’s End.
However, this is not set in stone and my bequest has only one string attached – the house in the cottage garden is Ros’s for her lifetime, to live there for as long as she wishes for the rest of her life.
I hope that the care and maintenance of the estate will provide employment, abundance and home to Heather and Ros and that they know they belong on Pin Hill Island for as long as they wish to stay. ’
‘Ah, Constance…’ Ros said, touched once more by her dear friend’s generosity. Heather reached across and took her hand. It was settled. They were here for good. Finally, Ros had truly come home.
*
After they had tidied everything away, Heather broke into the silence of Ros’s thoughts. ‘So…’ she said simply.
‘So.’ Ros knew, there was much to think about, but not today, neither of them wanted to think about anything much more than letting Constance’s final wishes settle on the air around them.
‘We’ll have to make some plans,’ Heather said, taking down both of their coats and handing Ros hers. They’d decided on a long walk across the fields to close off the day in an effort to shake some of the loneliness from their hearts.
‘It’s going to be good though, isn’t it?’ Ros caught Heather’s eye.
‘Oh, yes, it’s going to be great.’ Heather said, linking her arm through Ros’s as they went out into the breezy evening.
Ros felt her heart lifting; she couldn’t be sure, but she thought she heard, somewhere on the air the sound of Constance laughing and a little whisper in her ear that said, all is good, all is good .