He passed the relevant page across and I scanned it quickly. Then I breathed out slowly. When I looked up, he had his head on one side. He was regarding me closely, brown eyes watchful.
‘Relieved?’
‘Very.’
‘Special friend?’ he said gently.
‘So … I was led to believe.’ I swallowed. Passed the will back. There was a poignant silence.
‘Mrs Shilling …’
‘Poppy.’
‘Poppy. Often people – well, men, in particular – promise all sorts of things, all kinds of – provision, and then never follow through. I’ve seen it before. Family, inevitably, comes first. Most people are careful about that.’
‘So it seems. In fact it seems …’ I hesitated, ‘that he’s been extremely … careful.’ I felt a stab of guilt, remembering how I’d recently maligned him. Very publicly. In church, no less, to Angus. Said I was delighted he’d gone. Told Mrs Cripps in the shop I felt blooming marvellous. I had felt marvellous. Euphoric even. But suddenly I felt wretched. Could feel myself shrivelling. Life was so complicated. My feelings were so complicated. Mood swings, violent ones, flung me this way and that as if I had no control, as I lurched from one revelation to the next. A good revelation, in this case: Phil had more than provided for us. But when would I find an even keel? A little perspective? It was all so exhausting.
Sam’s voice broke into my thoughts. ‘He has indeed. Temperament, of course, is key. Was he a methodical man?’
‘Yes.’
‘Tidy?’
‘Oh God, yes. Obsessive.’
‘Those are often the ones who squirrel money away. And if they do it early – in your husband’s case the moment you got married – it mounts up quickly.’ He sighed. ‘People who live by the seat of their pants, on the other hand, often discover there’s nothing for their dependants in the kitty when they look. See my ex-wife on this one.’
‘Oh. I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t be. She married my best friend, who’s infinitely more solvent than I am.’ He grinned. ‘So all’s well that ends well.’
I was taken aback. ‘You don’t mind?’
‘That he’s richer than me?’
‘No, no I meant …’
‘Oh, I see.’ He paused.
‘Sorry,’ I said quickly, blushing. ‘Absolutely none of my business.’
‘No, but then again I brought it up.’ He seemed to hesitate. Then he shifted in his seat: a regrouping gesture. ‘Anyway, back to you.’ He cleared his throat. ‘This colossal sum of money will plop reassuringly into your bank account on an annual basis unless you leave further and better particulars to the contrary. Unless you have plans perhaps to reinvest it on the stock market, or on the roulette tables of Monte Carlo, the horses in Deauville …?’
‘No, no plans. Let it plop.’
‘In which case I’ll leave instructions with the bank for that to happen when all the paperwork’s been seen to. This copy is yours,’ he handed me a pristine document, ‘to peruse at your leisure, and I’ll keep this one for the files.’
‘Right. Thank you, Mr Hetherington.’
We looked at each other. The meeting appeared to be over.
‘Sam.’
‘Sam.’
I stood up, not without a tinge of regret. Tall. Very tall, I thought as he also got to his feet, to shake my hand. I’d forgotten that. Burly almost, with that rugby-player physique, as he came round the desk to show me out. Nice eyes that crinkled at the corners and almost disappeared when he smiled, like now, as he went to open the door for me.
As I passed under his arm, a thought occurred. I turned.
‘Do you read, Sam?’
‘Read?’
‘Yes, books. For pleasure. Novels, that kind of thing.’
He shrugged. ‘A bit. Biographies, mainly. Oh, and Nick Hornby, if he’s got a new one out. Why?’ He smiled down at me.
I smiled too, trying to replicate the crinkling-eyes effect. ‘Just wondered.’
Jennie had had the children for me and I popped next door to collect them when I returned. As I entered her kitchen a clutch of ghosts turned to look at me. Closer inspection revealed that Hannah, Jennie’s youngest, was making cakes and that everyone, including my children, was covered in flour. Jennie looked harassed.
‘You are a star, Jennie,’ I said, going quickly to relieve her of at least two of the young chefs. ‘Have they been all right? No trouble?’
‘Total heaven.’
Archie opened his mouth and started to wail.
‘But of course they always do that when their mother appears. How did it go?’
‘Really well,’ I said eagerly, scooping Archie up, then I became aware of Clemmie’s huge eyes on me as she caught my tone. Perhaps