The Scold's Bridle by Minette Walters Page A

with you as soon as possible. We can offer you three mornings next week. Tuesday, Wednesday or Thursday. In my office for preference, although we will come to Long Upton if necessary. You understand, however, that executors are entitled to charge for expenses." He beamed encouragingly at Sarah, waiting for an answer. He appeared to be completely unaware of the brewing hostility in the room.
    Sarah gathered her scattered wits together. "Do I have any say in this at all?"
    "In what, Dr. Blakeney?"
    "In the will."
    "You mean, are you free to reject Mrs. Gillespie's bequest?"
    "Yes."
    "There's an alternative provision which you will find on the last page of the document." Joanna and Ruth rustled through their copies. "If for any reason you are unable to take up the bequest, Mrs. Gillespie instructed us to sell her entire estate and donate the proceeds to the Seton Retirement Home for donkeys. She said, if you couldn't or wouldn't have her money, then it might as well go to deserving asses." He was watching Sarah closely and she thought that, after all, he wasn't quite so complacent as he seemed. He was expecting that remark to strike a chord. "Tuesday, Wednesday or Thursday, Dr. Blakeney? I should point out that an early meeting is essential. There is the future of Mrs. Lascelles and her daughter to be considered, for example. Mrs. Gillespie recognized that they would be in residence at Cedar House when the will was read and had no wish that we as executors should demand their immediate vacation of the property. It was for this reason, and without any offence intended," he smiled amiably at the two women, "that a full inventory of the contents was made. I'm sure the last thing any of us wants is a battle royal over just what was in the house at the time of Mrs. Gillespie's death."
    "Oh, bloody fabulous," said Ruth scathingly, "now you're accusing us of theft."
    "Not at all, Miss Lascelles. It's standard procedure, I assure you."
    Her lip curled unattractively. "What's our future got to do with anything, anyway? I thought we'd ceased to exist." She dropped her cigarette butt deliberately on to the Persian carpet and ground it out under her heel.
    "As I understand it, Miss Lascelles, you have another two terms at boarding school before you take your A levels. To date, your grandmother paid your fees but there is no provision in the will for further expenditure on your education so, in the circumstances, whether you remain at Southcliffe may well depend on Dr. Blakeney."
    Joanna raised her head. "Or on me," she said coolly. "I am her mother, after all."
    There was a short silence before Ruth gave a harsh laugh. "God, you're a fool. No wonder Granny didn't want to leave her money to you. What are you planning to pay with, Mother dear? No one's going to give you an allowance any more, you know, and you don't imagine your sweet little flower arrangements are going to produce four thousand a term, do you?"
    Joanna smiled faintly. "If I contest this will then, presumably, things will continue as normal in the meantime." She looked enquiringly at Paul Duggan. "Do you have the authority to give the money to Dr. Blakeney if I too, am laying claim to it?"
    "No," he admitted, "but, by the same token, you will receive nothing either. You are putting me in a difficult position, Mrs. Lascelles. I was your mother's lawyer, not yours. All I will say is there are time limits involved and I urge you to seek independent legal advice without delay. Things will not, as you put it, continue as normal."
    "So in the short term Ruth and I lose either way?"
    "Not necessarily."
    She frowned. "I'm afraid I don't understand."
    Ruth flung herself out of the sofa and stormed across to the window. "God, why do you have to be so obtuse? If you behave nicely, Mother, Dr. Blakeney may feel guilty enough about inheriting a fortune to keep subsidizing us. That's it, isn't it?" She glared at Duggan. "Granny's passed the buck of trying to create something decent out of