The Legacy Caroline Bond (best e book reader for android .txt) 📖

Megan nodded. The thought of it swamped her. Their grief and shock, their resentment that it was her making the call. She wasn’t sure she could face it, but she was going to have to. He was – he had been – their father. Lisa was still talking. ‘People always start rushing around after someone dies, but there’s really no need. The funeral can’t happen for a while anyway.’ Christ, the funeral! She’d have to plan it with them. Lisa moved her mug but didn’t take a drink. ‘The one thing you probably should do, sooner rather than later, is ring the solicitor.’

Megan nodded, but it was a reluctant nod. Once she started doing things like registering his death and calling lawyers, she was admitting he was gone – which couldn’t be true. The toast floated queasily on top of the sea of tea in her stomach. She looked up and met Lisa’s eye. Something in her gaze changed, became more insistent. ‘Yes. Okay. The death certificate. And I need to ring the solicitor.’

Lisa continued to stare at her. ‘The details are in the front of the big lever-arch file, which is on the bottom shelf of the bookcase in his room. All his paperwork is in there. It should help when you get round to sorting things out. And his laptop is on the top of his desk. The passwords are on the notepad.’

Christ, she really was efficient. Somewhere in the back of her brain Megan wondered why Lisa knew all this, but she didn’t raise it. What was the point? Lisa knew so much about them. Megan felt a flare of shame. This is what came from sticking your head in the sand – the paid ‘help’ knew more than she did.

There were a few moments of quiet. Megan drifted. When she looked up she was surprised to see that Lisa had disappeared. She stared at the empty chair. It was better than thinking.

Then Lisa was back. ‘Megan?’

‘Yes.’ She forced herself to concentrate.

‘There’s something I need to give you. It’s from Jonathan. He asked me to make sure you got it, and opened it, as soon as possible after his death.’ Without fanfare, Lisa put a bulky A5 envelope on the table. Megan stared at the parcel, but didn’t reach out to take it. The insistence was back again. ‘Megan? Are you listening to me? This is the key to Jonathan’s desk. I think you should keep the contents of this envelope safely locked up, in the desk, after you’ve looked at it.’

Megan was having trouble following what Lisa was saying, but her face looked so serious that she felt she had to say something. She managed a clear ‘yes’.

‘You must promise me that you’ll open it. This morning. Before you do anything else. Before you go and check on Chloe. Before you start ringing people. You won’t forget, will you?’

Megan moved her head to indicate she had got the message. That finally seemed to placate Lisa, because she stood up.

‘Good.’ She paused. When she spoke again her tone was gentle. ‘You will get through this, Megan. People think they won’t, but they do. There isn’t really any choice. I am sorry. I know how much of a shock this is, but he is free of it now. No more pain or struggling. We have to be grateful for that – for him.’ She hesitated, seemed to weigh up whether to say anything more. She obviously decided she wanted to. ‘He was an interesting man. It was a genuine pleasure getting to know him, however briefly. It has been a privilege to care for him.’ Megan realised with a jolt that she was listening to Jonathan’s first eulogy. Still Lisa seemed reluctant to leave. ‘Before I go, do you want me to clear up in there?’

They both knew where.

‘No!’ Megan snapped. It came out rudely, but the thought of Lisa being in Jonathan’s room suddenly infuriated her. So many barriers had been breached over the past few months, but the thought of Lisa touching his things, throwing stuff away, stripping the sheets off his bed was too much. Lisa had done more than enough. This last awful closing down of Jonathan’s life, of their life together, was her job. His things were Megan’s things. Lisa had no reason to go into his room ever again. No one did. ‘No. Don’t. I’ll sort it out – later.’ Only as an afterthought did Megan remember to add, ‘But thank you for offering.’

‘I’ll be off then.’ Lisa gave no hint of being offended. ‘Unless there’s anything else I can usefully do?’

Megan shook her head.

Lisa walked around the table. She slowed as she passed, but wisely refrained from reaching out. Megan couldn’t have abided a hug from her. There was only one person she wanted to touch her, and that was never going to happen – ever again. At the door Lisa stopped. ‘I’ll keep in touch, Megan. If I can help, with anything, let me know. And I mean anything.’ She paused, composing her last words. ‘Though I’m sure it’s no comfort at present, I know he loved you very much. Take care of yourself. And don’t forget.’ She pointed at the envelope. ‘Don’t leave it. Open it now.’ And with that, she finally left Megan alone with her loss.

The parcel sat on the table in front of her. Megan’s name was written on the front, not in Jonathan’s handwriting but in Lisa’s. She stared at it, wondering whether she could faint, but the tea and toast in her system wouldn’t let her. She heard the front door close. Lisa leaving. She pulled the package towards her, picked up the butter knife, wiped it on the sleeve of her dressing gown and slit the envelope open.

Whatever was inside was stuck fast.

She had to rip the envelope apart to get the contents out. A letter, a thick formal-looking document and a small box fell onto the table. She was