Chapter 1

I've spent most of my life gradually working my way from nothing to ... well, nothing. Maybe things hadn't been perfect in the past, but over the last few years our situation had improved through sheer hard work and determination, and at the time we were making a living, and ends were meeting with a bit left over, so life wasn't too bad.

And then I received this letter from a solicitor.

Now don't get me wrong, I have had plenty of solicitors letters in the past. The sort of thing that tells you that their client isn't very happy etc ... well those I can deal with, I don't frighten easily. Get straight back, ask them if they're so hard up that they need the fees for the golf club/kids education, tell them what a piece of shit their client is, how wrong they've got it, and how delighted you'll be to make them look a complete asshole in court. That kind of thing.

But this wasn't one of that kind, oh no, this was very different.

It was an invitation to attend at the solicitors office the following Friday, when I would 'hear something to my advantage'.

Now come on, that is so nineteenth century; so pulp fiction; so Hollywood does English literature; so ... unreal. And I certainly didn't believe it was real, someone was taking the piss.

But who? The notepaper was very good quality (I know about these things) and it had been printed on a press (I know about those things too) so the headed paper was probably the real thing because it would be much too expensive to set up a silly joke like that. And since I know the name of the solicitors, because their business is in the nearby county town, and I have walked past their offices on many occasions, I was even more inclined to believe that the letterhead was genuine. So who, amongst my warped friends or indeed enemies, had got hold of a sheet, and written this ludicrous invitation?

Examining the envelope showed just what lengths the joker had gone to, because it had been put through the firm's franking machine, and the letter appeared to have come from the senior partner too. I reckoned that could be gross misconduct on the part of one of the secretaries; risking her job so that some asshole can have a laugh at my expense. Bloody silly and sodding annoying.

"When I find the bastard who's written this I'll..."

"Why don't you just shut up, and do as the letter asks, and phone to confirm the appointment?"

Her Loveliness sounded exasperated, which was not surprising because I had been going on about it since the post arrived at eight o'clock, and it was now nine.

"Right. I'll give it another half hour and I will," I told her.

Thirtyfive minutes later.

"Well, I'm buggered. I just spoke to the guy's secretary, and she said that he'll be delighted to see me at 2.00pm on Friday, just like it says in the letter. What on earth can it be?"

"Didn't you ask her?" Ever practical, Her Loveliness.

"Umm ... well, uh, I didn't like to. She wouldn't tell me anyway?"

She thought perhaps not.

And was she invited too?

Of course I should have thought to ask.

"Of course my love, why would you not be?"

"You didn't ask."

"Umm ... well, uh ... no."

And there we left it. But I was quite certain that I would not be alone on Friday.

To fill in the time between now and Friday perhaps a few words of explanation are in order.

To start with, home is in the middle of Dorset, in a small village. I like living in villages although it can on occasion mean that I have to engage my brain before opening my mouth, but it is generally nice to know everyone. I've lived in Dorset for most of my life and, having visited many other places, I really think it is the best possible place to live.

I know about paper and printing because I am a graphic designer, although most of the time I do a bit of building work and generally amuse myself, having worked in architecture and building on and off for most of my life. Her Loveliness has her own business and works from home, and it has to be said that the majority of the work in supporting our little partnership is down to her. I also do a bit of writing, which may not pay too much, but does enable me to get under a few peoples' skins. That may sound like I am not too nice a person, but truth to tell I actually like helping people. As one dear lady friend said, "children and dogs always take to you, so you can't be all bad". There's nice. A couple of years ago I got involved in a voluntary organisation and ended up with a couple of very bad enemies. Most unlike me really, and it took me a while to realise that I had encountered some deeply unpleasant people. But by then it was too late ... that was where most of the solicitor's letters had originated, these guys seemed to think they could frighten me. However, through this I had acquired a weekly newspaper column and this allowed me to continue to be an irritant to them. Which I have to admit I rather enjoyed.

Of course, besides all that, I also help HL with her enterprise, so for the next couple of days I was fully occupied. That didn't stop me wondering though.

We decided to go into town and have a spot of lunch, and then we attend the appointment and see what it was all about. Lunch was eaten in almost total silence, I think both of us were wondering what could possibly be 'to our advantage', and were speculated out. You will have spotted the difference between the letter, which was addressed to me, and indicated 'to my advantage' and what I have just said. Truth to tell Her Loveliness and I have been together for, oh, almost forever, during which time we have always worked together and hardly ever been apart, so it is unthinkable that any change in our fortunes could concern one and not the other.

And that takes us to just after lunch on Friday, standing outside the solicitor's office.

The offices occupied a building that had at some time been converted from a large Georgian terraced house, and we entered a spacious hall, with a staircase leading to the upper floors and a reception area and waiting room to the one side. There was a girl sitting behind a computer speaking on the phone. She acknowledged our presence with her eyes, and a moment later replaced the telephone. I gave my name and said that we were there to see Mr Potter. She asked us to take a seat, and then picked up the phone. Before we could wriggle ourselves comfortable, another girl arrived and asked us to accompany her. My, but this was service, I was beginning to feel quite important. Well, not really, but it certainly seemed that someone cared.

We were taken upstairs and shown into a large front office, the girl announcing us as we entered. A large elderly man came around the desk smiling and holding out his hand. We shook hands and I introduced him to HL.

"Yes," he said, "I was expecting both of you."

I raised an eyebrow.

"When I first heard about you I made some enquiries and discovered that you rarely get one without the other."

I laughed. "Yes, that's probably true, but it can depend upon who you spoke to as to whether that's a good thing or not."

"I discovered that too," he replied. "Now, I know who you are, and quite a lot about you, but you have no idea why you are here, I am sure."

I nodded in confirmation.

"Well now. This firm has represented a local family for many years, and for the last nine or ten years this has come down to one elderly lady. The rest of the family has died out over the years and now she too has, sadly, passed on. Do you recall three years ago just before Christmas helping out a lady in Tesco's car park?"

I nodded, it wasn't something that happened to me very often.

"Yes, she had lost her car," I replied. "I saw her as I parked, carrying shopping bags, and then after doing my shopping there she was again. So I asked her if she was alright, and she told me she couldn't find her car. She was obviously very distressed, and I got her into my car and cruised along every aisle in the car park and we still couldn't find it. I remember she was very upset by that time, but I managed to get her to sit there because I had an idea that we ought to look in the adjacent car park. And there it was. Being Christmas the car parks were pretty full and she had parked in an unusual, for her, place. With the stress of Christmas she forgot. No big deal. Don't tell me that was the lady you're talking about."