University
Copyright© 2011 by Peter H. Salus
Chapter 42
A few days later, Rachel remarked "I've been thinking."
"Good. Soon you'll be able to do it painlessly."
"Yuk, yuk. Seriously. You're going to be quite wealthy in a few days."
"And?..."
"And I think we should talk about the future. For example, I said 'you're going to be quite wealthy, ' but that's not true."
"Oh?"
"We were married in December. This property will come to you in late April or in May, right."
"I suppose so."
"And you're going to be a lawyer? We were married in Perth. This is NSW. The property will be coming to you after our marriage. So it's ours, not yours."
"Of course. Everything's joint. Whether you're a pie maker or a pie eater."
"Very funny. However, we should talk about our future."
"Okay. Tell me your thoughts."
"Number one. Children. We're planning on them, right?"
"One or two. It's more work for you than me until they're a few months old."
"Right. And we're not living here forever."
"I hope not."
"Okay. I propose we invest a large chunk of whatever cash there is into real estate. Specifically, a large enough house or condo to accommodate us and two children. That's four or five bedrooms."
"That makes sense."
"No matter what we invest in, we'll have to pay. Property won't be taxed until we sell."
"Right."
"Fine. Now another topic. In 2016 you'll be a lawyer."
"I hope."
"I've got faith, dear. At that time I'll have my BA and should be working at the Gallery. I should also be pregnant about then."
"I'll enjoy practicing for that."
"Pig! Anyway, I'm intending to stop taking pills in mid-2015, to make sure all the hormones in the system are mine. I'm also intending to get as much detail as I can on doing a thesis-only doctorate. I'll do as much research as possible while pregnant and writing during baby's first year."
"Still seems okay to me. What about the Gallery – if the job pans out?"
"Pregnancy and maternity leave."
"You win. What are the immediate activities?"
"You go to the bank on Monday. Make sure you talk to someone in authority, not one of the desk clerks. Ask about a financial advisor. If they're stupid, don't pursue it; I'll ask Winnie to suggest someone."
"Yes, dear."
"Are all the papers in order?"
"What I had last December is still in the folder I got in Perth; I'll ask my dad about the other stuff."
"Okay."
"Can I ask now?"
"Sure."
"What's gotten to you?"
"I don't know. It had something to do with the wedding. And your birthday. And something to do with Alf and the mine accident. And something about all that cash your father talked about. And this flat we've been in for over a year. Am I being stupid?"
"I don't think that's possible. It's just that we're too close. So I can't tell what's awry. And I want to know. And make you happy."
"I love you, Patrick."
"And I you."
I had sent an email to Dad asking for the data and there were several.pdfs when I looked in the morning. I printed them out to find they were quarterly reports marked 'Q1-13'. Good enough. I got the portfolio and put the sheets in it. I then walked along City Road to the Wentworth Building and the bank. I saw a bloke about my age and said that I'd like to make an appointment to see the manager. He said I'd have to talk to the manager's PA.
I said "Okay." He didn't do anything, so I asked "Where is he or she?" He gestured towards a desk. I went there and an older woman quizzed me. I repeated my request. She said: "Is this about an account or a loan?" I began to get impatient. This was not good customer service.
"No," I said. "My wife and I already have accounts here. I'd like to talk to someone in authority about investments."
"Could you give me some idea of the amount involved?"
"Certainly. Between two and three mil."
She looked as though I'd hit her with a waddy. "Is this a prank?"
"Is this really a bank? Perhaps I'm in the wrong place. Is there a trusts officer?"
"I ... er ... I one moment please." She scurried off and came back with a man in a suit.
"May I help you?"
"I hope so. I'm beginning to get impatient. I came in to attempt to book and appointment with the manager or trusts officer, but you're the third person with questions. And no one's even bothered to ask my name."
"I am sorry. Come with me, please. My name is Santeson."
"And mine is Hollister. Patrick Scott Hollister."
He led me to a half-glassed-in office with unattractive office furniture.
"Please sit down, Mr. Hollister, and I'll see what I can do."
"Thanks. Let me be brief. I will be 21 next Friday. At that time I will come into two legacies that have been held in trust. They are both with the Commonwealth in Perth."
"I see. And you wish to transfer the funds here."
"Not quite. That's what I ... uh, we ... want to talk about." I was no longer irritated. "My wife and I have an account here. We also have investments in Perth, as well as the forthcoming legacies. My wife suggested that we get advice prior to moving our funds. Especially concerning re-investing our funds as opposed to making a real estate purchase."
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