Relief Valve: The Plumber's Mate, Book 2 by JL Merrow

to—”
    “Yeah, but what if I’m not? Happy, I mean.” I sat forward, struggling to think how to put it. “Look, it was Auntie Lol’s last request, wasn’t it? For me to go looking for the…what do you call it, Sis? Coda?”
    “Codicil.” It sounded like a brand name for nasal spray.
    “So I’m not happy just saying fine, give me the money. It’s not right.”
    Cherry cleared her throat. “Actually, the legal situation—”
    “Sod the legal situation. I want to do what Auntie Lol wanted.”
    “Tom, you’re just being difficult. Mr. Morangie is being very generous here.”
    “Not necessarily. What if she left me the deeds to a diamond mine?”
    Cherry’s face could have blistered paint. “Oh yes, of course, she always used to regale us with tales of her life in the diamond mines of South Africa.”
    Me-ow. “I’m sure you used to tell me sarcasm was the lowest form of wit.”
    Mr. Morangie rattled his tea-cup loudly in his saucer. Cherry and I turned as one to glare at him, and he leaned back with a worried expression as if he was trying to escape through the back of the chair. “Ah. It’s, ah, commendable that you want to follow my late wife’s wishes, but really, I have my doubts the codicil will ever be found.”
    Why? Had he found it already, and chucked it on a fire? I frowned and opened my mouth, but he beat me to it.
    “As you can imagine, I’ve already made a thorough search of the property, and I’ve been unable to locate it.”
    “Yeah, well, fresh pair of eyes and all that,” I said breezily. I wondered if Cherry would mention my special talent for finding stuff, but apparently my thing was still on the list of unmentionables. Fair enough: he probably thought we were weird enough already. And if he didn’t expect me to find it, he wouldn’t bother getting a shift on with trying to find and destroy the thing before I got there. “So when can I come round? Sooner I start, the sooner I’ll finish and get out of your hair.”
    Mr. M made a face like he was chewing on a cockroach and was too polite to spit it out. “I’ll have to consider the matter. I was given to understand we would be able to come to an arrangement.” He put his teacup down on Cherry’s desk, as if getting ready to leg it.
    Cherry wasn’t giving up that easily. “Please wait, Mr. Morangie. Perhaps if I had a private word with my brother—”
    “You’d be wasting everyone’s time,” I interrupted. “Sorry, but I’m not budging. What’s the bloody point of leaving a will if everyone’s going to bugger up your final wishes?”
    Mr. M and I stood up at the same time like we’d planned it that way. Which was a bit unfortunate, seeing as we’d have to walk out together now. Maybe we could talk about the weather or the crap state of English football. We might even be able to agree on those subjects, although I doubted it.
    “I shall have to consult my solicitor,” he said. His tone should have carried a warning for mild threat like you get on kids’ films.
    “Then I’ll look forward to hearing from you,” Cherry said politely. “Tom, would you wait a minute, please?” Her tone was definitely the sort some small children might find upsetting.
    It was a toss-up which was the least inviting prospect: small talk with a pissed-off Mr. M, or a lecture from a pissed-off Cherry. On the other hand, if I didn’t let Cherry vent now, she’d only bend my ear about it later on the phone. I sat back down, and while she ushered Mr. M out, did the modern equivalent of twiddling my thumbs. Gary had tweeted Bellringers do it with ropes and Darren had replied Market traders do it in public . I was still trying to think up a really good one for plumbers when Cherry said my name in that annoyed tone of voice people use when they have to repeat themselves.
    I put my phone away hurriedly. “Gone, has he?”
    “Yes. I don’t know why you had to be so obstructive.”
    “Yeah, you do. So what happens now?”
    She