11 The Teashop on the Corner

11 The Teashop on the Corner by Milly Johnson Page B

Book: 11 The Teashop on the Corner by Milly Johnson Read Free Book Online
Authors: Milly Johnson
Tags: Fiction, General
that’s good news. Ooh and it’s rather a fat one. And you’re the sole beneficiary, so we need to claim this asap. I presume you have a
death certificate?’
    ‘It’s in the box,’ nodded Carla.
    ‘Where’s the will?’
    ‘He never made one.’
    ‘Bloody marvellous. Joint savings account?’
    ‘Yes, but there’s not much in it. He took most of it out last year to pay for the new fence outside.’
    ‘He used your savings when he was sitting on a fortune?’ Theresa’s lip lifted up in a sneer, then she mumbled a lot of four-letter expletives not very much under her breath.
‘Okay. What about the house? Who owns it?’
    ‘It’s in Martin’s name. We didn’t transfer it to both names because I never asked him to, I didn’t think we needed to. If I died first, he would get everything and
if he died first . . .’ Her voice trailed off.
    ‘Jesus Christ,’ muttered Theresa. ‘Is there a mortgage on the house?’
    ‘No. I don’t want it though. I don’t want to live here any more, Tez.’
    ‘Well you can’t just wave goodbye to your home and your security without a fight. Especially if this other woman is sitting on all that money. Greedy cow.’
    ‘I could quite happily walk away from this house now, as I am, taking nothing.’
    ‘Darling,’ Theresa said, carefully but firmly. ‘You haven’t sustained a recent bang to the head, have you?’
    ‘No. She can have everything. I just don’t care. I really don’t.’
    ‘Well luckily for you, I do,’ huffed Theresa. ‘Now get that kettle on, please. My coffee has gone cold and I can’t concentrate without a hot drink. I’ll get Jonty
on to this as soon as I get home.’
    Jonty Pennant was an estate agent with an extensive database of contacts and a knowledge that far exceeded the boundaries of his job. He knew more about law than a lot of solicitors, more about
numbers than most accountants and more about everything else than a whole seriesful of
University Challenge
contestants.
    ‘How was New Zealand?’ asked Carla as she waited for the kettle to boil.
    ‘Good. We’ll talk about it later,’ said Theresa briskly.
    ‘You’re going to live out there, aren’t you?’ said Carla, trying to keep her voice steady.
    ‘Don’t know.’
    ‘Liar.’
    Theresa stopped rifling through the box of papers. ‘I’m not going to leave you whilst you need me,’ she said, swallowing down a lump of emotion in her throat. ‘We
haven’t fully decided what we are doing yet.’
    ‘I should think you were a pair of idiots if you stayed here when your son was having a baby.’
    ‘Okay then,’ said Theresa with gruff resignation. ‘Yes, we are going out there. But it won’t be for ages. Now get out any biscuits you have as well. I need carbs to
concentrate.’
    Theresa lifted her eyes and smiled at her friend who was reaching for the biscuit tin in the cupboard. How could Martin have done this to lovely Carla? He should have been counting his
blessings, not playing away. Theresa had never really liked Martin that much. He wasn’t a catch, looks-wise, and had been very anti-social, barely able to grumble a ‘hello’ if
Theresa ever called around at weekends. She’d always thought Carla far too good for him.
Carla would have thought the same had she seen herself through my eyes
, thought Theresa.
Carla thought of herself as very ordinary and a bit plump and Theresa suspected that Martin encouraged her to think that way. She would never have thought of herself as a pretty woman with huge
chocolate-brown eyes, a long thick mane of Italian-dark hair, a wide sensuous mouth and cheekbones that could have cut glass. As for her voice – smoky and soft – Theresa had told her on
more than one occasion that she should be running a phone-sex line.
    Carla made fresh coffee and tipped out some biscuits onto a plate. This Martin and Julie mess wasn’t going to go away, but at least with Theresa and Jonty on her side she could see a prick
of light at

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