Ray’s son Phillip descended on our little world three days later. I say descended because his first port of call was the coffee shop where he said loudly,

"As you lot of village idiots know very well, Ray is my father, and I don't want any of you busybodies from interfering in his life. Actually, he won't be returning home, so don't even ask. I am here to close up the house, and remove anything of value before it gets stolen by you bunch of retards."

His opinion of us was right there for everyone to see.

With that, he left us alone. Whilst my little emporium of good food and drink was in the centre of the village, we are not the centre of the action. That is the village hall as it should be, but his action had not gone down well with the population. Video of him calling us ‘retards’ would go viral on the village social media site within an hour. It was kinda ironic because at that moment, there were two PHD’s in the shop. Retards my ass.

Phillip drove off in his car clearly heading towards Ray’s modest house. I picked up the phone and called ‘999’.

“Police please,” I said when the emergency operator answered.

“I want to report a robbery in progress at 12 Church View, in Ashurst.”

“The person breaking in is the son of the owner who is in Hospital dying of cancer.”

"I know it is unauthorised because the son is not the owner's appointed next of kin. That is his daughter Jade. I have a document showing that. I am in possession of it because I am the executor of his will.”

"I don't want to have the son arrested for theft, and handling stolen property after the reading of the will. I just want him stopped from taking what is not legally his. His father, Ray has made a detailed list of his assets, and to whom they will be left. I have that list which also identifies how those items will be dispersed after his death.”

"Thank you, I will be waiting for your men to arrive."

I hung up the phone wishing that I had not had to make that call. The arrival of the post that morning had contained a letter from Ray's solicitors and had pre-empted the arrival of Phillip. I'd received instructions about securing the house from being pilfered by his son. The letter informed me that a court order was being sought that would stop Phillip, and his sister from interfering with the property, as well as with the care that Ray received at the end of his life.

The letter had made me angry. I wondered why there are so many families up, and down the land are such total jerks when it comes to the end of a relative’s life? I knew from personal experience how rifts can develop between family members of property, and especially money that a newly deceased person has. In my case, it had left me with scars from the physical altercations between my father and his brother. I was only six when the family disintegrated around me and left me wondering what I had done wrong to make it happen. It was only years later that I discovered that it wasn’t my fault after all.

The lack of accountability for those who had caused me so much pain and angst as a child had been the driving force behind why I studied law. It wasn't until I was on the inside that I saw just how corrupt and impotent it was when dealing with the issues of real life. Add to that my background of being in care and it was made clear very early on that I’d never get beyond a Junior Barrister no matter what I did inside the court room.

I pushed my own prejudices to one side and said,

“Sylvia, I have to go to Ray’s house. I’ve called the Police about his son.”

“Ouch!” said Sylvia.
“Can I do anything?”

“Hold the fort here. If the PLOD arrive, send them around to Ray’s house. Other than that… just smile nicely at the customers.”

Sylvia stuck her tongue out at me. We were cool.

---

I walked the short distance to Ray's home. His son's car was parked half on the road and half on the grass. Phillip was trying the front door when a woman appeared from a house two doors farther along the road.

That woman was Mrs Finch, one of the local busybodies. She hurried up to Philip and made herself known. To my surprise, he told her to mind her own business, and added the words, 'old crow' to the stream of expletives that came out of his mouth. His words stopped me dead in my tracks. My already low expectation of him had sunk even lower. I pulled my phone out of my pocket, and turned away from him. I quickly engaged the voice recorder. Then I held the device up to my ear and said a few words.
"Ok Sylvia. I'm outside Ray's home. His son is here and mouthing off to Mrs Finch. See you later."
I made it look as if I was hanging up on a call before turning back towards Phillip Thompson.

"Mr Thompson, there is really no need to be any more of an obnoxious prick than you already are."

“Oh good. The local know it all has arrived.”

"I received a letter from your father's lawyer today. They are applying for a court order to stop you from interfering with Ray's life."

“That is Mr Thompson to you bitch.”

“Call me all the names you like, but they won't stop me from helping a friend in need. Ray has appointed me to be the executor of his will, and his lawyers do not want anything removed from Ray's house before the reading of the will. Before you ask, I do not know what financial disbersments are in the will. That is between your father and his legal representatives.”

"You will do no such thing. I have lawyers too you know. Mine says that I have a very good case to take control of his assets and care."

“What about his other daughter Jade?”

“The impostor you mean? She’s not his daughter. She isn’t even a she. A fucking pervert if you ask me.”

“Yet your father is paying for her education?”

“Was you mean. When I’m done, I’ll make sure that he has to pay back every penny he has conned out of my father.”

I noticed that he called Jade a ‘he’. That would not go down well with the court… if it came to that.

“Good luck with that. In the letter I received today, Ray’s lawyers told me about a DNA test that shows that you are wrong. Jade is Ray's daughter, and the sooner you accept that the better for all concerned. Even if you don’t then, knowing Ray as I do, I am sure that he will have made provision for all his children in his will. As I said, I do not know the contents of the will and I will refuse any financial bequests that he may make to me. I will gladly put that in writing. Not everyone in your father's life is a money-grabbing SOB as you might think."

“I don’t care what you say or do. There are things in the house that are rightfully mine.”

"Then why not wait? You have waited this long, so what is a few more months eh?"

"What, and leave it to scumbags like you to pilfer everything?"

"I don't have a key. If you notice, the lock on the door is new. It was replaced after the paramedics broke in to save your fathers life. The Police contacted a locksmith to come and repair the damage, and after consulting with your father's solicitors, they replaced all the locks. I have no idea where the keys are. I suggest that you ask the Police?”

My phone buzzed. Someone has sent me a text.
“Police were here. On their way to you, Sylvia.”

I smiled.
“It seems that the Police will be here in a minute.”

"Good, then I'll get them to arrest you."

“Oh… On what charge?”

"Conspiring to rob my father, for starters."

"You do know that conspiracy is a difficult charge to prove in court. I take it that you have evidence of this crime that you are willing to give to the Police?"

“What? Are you a lawyer or something?”

I grinned.
“I was something. I am a qualified Barrister. Please… don’t let me stop you from digging the hole that you are in. I’ll gladly bury you in thick Wealden Clay.”

Just then, a Police Car arrived. I knew the officer, Constable Joanne Wynn.

“Arrest this woman. She is conspiring to steal goods and money from my father!” said Phillip as the constable was getting out of her car.

PC Wynn nodded in my direction.
“Mr Thompson, I presume? I have had a report of you making accusations against Ms Davenport and others. Is this correct?"

“Too dam right it is.”

"Then Mr Thompson, I suggest that you come to the Police Station and make those claims in writing. Then and only then can we investigate matters more fully. How about it?"

“I’m not leaving here just so that people like her can rob my father!” said Phillip pointing at me.

“I’ll leave now Constable. I’ll be in my Café should you need me.”

I turned to walk away.
“Stop her. She needs to be arrested,” shrieked Phillip.

“Mr Thompson, I need some evidence besides, Ms Davenport is well known to us, and I don't think she will be going very far. Shall we go to the station for that statement?"

I walked away full of admiration for the way that the Constable was diffusing the situation. The words 'well known to us' made me smile. I was, or rather my Café, was well known to the Police as a place where they could get good coffee and food rather than being well known for my criminal exploits.

I returned to the Café, and after a short chat with Sylvia, I got in my car and headed for London. I wanted Ray to hear my recording ASAP.

---

"Hello Ray," I said quietly when I arrived at his bed. The post-lunch quiet period was just ending.

He opened his eyes and smiled.
“Now that is sight for sore eyes. Come and sit down. Then you can tell me what has been happening outside this prison and in the real world.”

I spent the next hour updating Ray on events at home. This included playing him the voice recording of my confrontation with Phillip.
"My son is a bit of a Jekyll and Hyde character. He is very erratic, but once he gets an idea into his head, there is no shifting it or him from a course of action."

“He did demand that I was arrested on the spot, apparently for conspiring to rob you of your life savings.”

Ray laughed.
"What did I say about ideas and my son? Get that recording to my solicitors."

Then he looked at me with a serious face.
“What is all this about you being a Barrister?”

Very few people in the village knew about my past career.

“It is true or rather was true. I worked in London for three years after qualifying and was preparing to try to become a QC[1] when I had a relationship go wrong, badly wrong. He made all sorts of accusations against me. The old saying, ‘there is no smoke without fire’ came true. My reputation was ruined. For a barrister, reputation is what brings in cases and pays the bills. I was likely to be faced with huge problems finding cases so I gave up the law, sold my flat in Docklands and came down here. I'd become very peed off with just how impotent we were to make the lives of others better so I walked away and gave them the finger."

“Was anything your ex claimed true?” asked Ray mostly out of innocence.

“Only one thing. I did have a brief fling with another lawyer who had represented some very bad people. That was my reputation killer even if it happened before I qualified as a lawyer."

“That’s not good for your legal career but good for us. Where else can I get such good coffee eh?”

"Thank you for the vote of confidence Ray."

“Would you ever go back? To the law that is?”

“No chance of that. After six months down here, I got to like the more relaxed life. Until then, I had not fully understood how much stress there was in my old life. One of my old law professors once said that appearing in court is much like an actor going on stage. The jury is the audience. Whereas an actor has a set of lines to learn, and they pretty much repeat them in every performance, a Barrister has to think on their feet. Naturally, they will have lines prepared for every eventuality but if they fluff them, their client could go to jail for a long time. I consider myself lucky to have gotten out when I did and before I fluffed my lines.”

“But the rewards? Weren’t they very good?”

"For some yes, but many of us jobbing Barristers, the pot of gold was taking silk and becoming a QC. To get there, many were relying on Cocaine or booze or both. Coffee is my only drug of choice these days."

I sat back and looked at Ray. He seemed full of beans.

“Any idea when you are getting kicked out?”

“Tomorrow all being well. Then I am supposed to come back for check-ups every month. That will be a pain. I’m not allowed to drive.”

“Er… Ray, as long as I’ve known you, you have never had a car?”

He grinned.
"Details, my friend, details."

That was a typical Ray’s riposte. I could tell that he was feeling a lot better.

“Do you want me to come and collect you?”

He smiled.
“And piss my dear beloved son off even more? Let him do something worthwhile for a change.”
After wiping the smile from his face, he said,
"Can you make sure that Jade has somewhere to safe stay that is out of the his way for a bit?"

“I can do that.”

“Good. I gave her your mobile number when she was in here earlier. I told her to lie low for a few days until Phillip has gone home. He'll want to take me with him, but with my check-ups being here, I can with all honestly say no thanks. The McMillian people have already been to see me, and will arrange for help at home when I need it, but as far as he is concerned, that is now, if you get my drift?"

“Ray, will you answer me one question?”

He smiled,
“For you my dear, anything.”

“Why did you never bet on the horses? The tip box is proof that you are good at selecting winners?”

Ray grinned.
"Whoever said that I didn't? I just didn’t want my business broadcast by the usual suspects in the village. By not saying one way or the other people were left to make up their own minds, but between you, me and the bedpost, I did have the odd flutter or three but keeping quiet about it was good because as you well know, not everyone is as honest as you.”

He smiled. That told me that when it came to laying a bet, it was a lot more than the odd flutter.

For once in my life, I was lost for words.

[to be continued]
[1] QC : Queen’s Councillor https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/QC