Part Four     "Probate"

 
 
 
Tuesday 16th December
 
The morning arrived with a variety of mobile phone alarms, all set at different times, followed by the house phone at seven thirty. Joan picked up the handset in the master bedroom.

“Hello?”

“Good morning, Mrs Small, this is Steven McIntosh.”

“Good morning, but you can call me Joan.”

“Right, good morning Joan, this is Steven, is that better?”

“Much better,” she chuckled, “what can I do for you?”

“I’m placing you on compassionate leave until after Hogmanay.”

“What about my contract, my pay?”

“Don’t worry about that, your job is quite safe. You shouldn’t worry about money either, I’ll have the office deal with the lump sum compensation today. You will need to sort out your bank before we can pay it, though.”

“Why?”

“I think Richard can help you there, I think he's the banking expert”

“If you say so.”

“I do. Now, we’re not expecting your daughter today but Miss Smart is due here at nine, I’d be grateful if you could remind her as I'm told she is currently with you.”

“Certainly.”

Joan put the phone down and turned to find Richard just coming back into the room with a cup of tea.

“Steve McIntosh says I should talk to you about the bank, but I don’t know why. He also says the school office is paying compensation, but I don’t understand what he meant.”

“Joan, George would have been a member of the school’s pension scheme. If I remember right they administer it directly from the school. ”

“But what’s this about the bank?”

“We have to tell the bank about George and show them a copy of the Death Certificate, they will automatically freeze the bank account until after the estate is settled.”

“Oh. What am I to do?”

“Write me out a letter of authority and phone that solicitor in town.”

“Then what?”

“Leave that to me, please trust me.”

“I do.”

“Didn’t you mean ‘I will.’?”

“I know what I meant.”

“Okay, I have to run Tammy over to the school then I'll go the the house and freshen up. Promise me you and Angela won’t do anything silly while I’m gone?”

“Don’t worry, that sleep has helped me organise my thoughts.”

Tammy was just swallowing her daily birth control pill with OJ whilst trying to eat a few slices of toast, using bread from the freezer, before getting into her father’s car. Too many things at the same time.

So far as Tammy was concerned the rest of the morning was business as usual, albeit in a skirt and low heels. She had a few inquisitive looks from her fellow sixth formers and one enquiry if she was dressed as a girl for a laugh. Unfortunately, the Deputy Head Mr Thomas was directly behind the wit-full oaf and had a quiet word with him. An apology was issued an hour later at morning break.

Richard on the other hand was now shaved, showered and dressed for business. Michael was coming back into the house as Richard was preparing to return to Joan and Angela.

“I’ve just taken Tammy's all-in-one printer and fax over to the cottage. There was also a package for Angela yesterday, but I guess it wasn’t important then. Is there anything else you need before I head over to the college?”

“No, I think that’s all. Thanks, Michael.”

Richard ensured he had his and his daughter's laptop as well as a collection of the relevant leads; he couldn’t be certain the USB lead came with the printer. He's also made certain he remembered a UK mobile internet dongle for portable access. Although the printer would accept wireless printing this was no good without a wireless network.

When Richard pulled up outside the cottage there was another car parked there. Inside he found Jill Davison talking to Joan and Angela, both had clearly been crying and there was a somewhat depleted box of tissues on the table. Jill mouthed “coffee” to Richard who nodded and went into the kitchen to put the kettle on. A few minutes later Jill came in to join him.

“Richard, obviously what I was discussing in there was confidential so I hope you didn’t mind?”

“Not at all, I needed a drink anyway to warm me up.”

“I think everyone does. Joan thinks a lot of you, by the way.”

“So I gathered, but I’m just trying to help her.”

“If you say, you know she’s going to need plenty of support. I was going to suggest she went over to the house with you but that way she might feel crowded so I’ll recommend that Joan and Angela stay here for at least the next few days.”

“I’d go along with that. Elsie can be somewhat overbearing at times, but we'll have a few folk come over each day with supplies.”

Jill nodded agreement. “My Dad thinks that about Elsie, but he'll always deny it, by the way have you spoken to him yet?”

“No, what about?”

“There’s a parent governor vacancy.” Jill was sounding surprised.

“And?” Richard was pouring the boiling water into the cafétière he’d found.

“My father, Elsie and the Head want you to apply for it. Didn’t Tammy tell you?”

“No, we’ve been a bit busy. Anyway, I’m not sure if I want it.”

“Talk with my dad and see what he says.” She wrote Harry Davison's number down on the back of one of her business cards.

“Okay. Can you carry those biscuits into the living room? I’ll bring the coffee.” Richard was not thinking this was a sensible idea.

Joan patted the seat next to her on the sofa when Richard had finished pouring the coffee. He took the hint and sat, only to find his hand being squeezed, both Jill and Angela noticed that.

“Joan, Angela, I’m glad you have Richard and Tammy’s support. If either of you feel you need to speak to me, give me a call on my mobile.”

“Jill, we will.” Joan squeezed Richard’s hand again.

They sipped their coffee in silence, lost in their own thoughts. Joan had released Richard’s hand so he could pick up the cup and a biscuit at the same time, otherwise she was very reluctant to let him go. At eleven Jill departed, giving Richard a chance to unpack the boxes Michael had delivered, apparently just before Jill had arrived.

Richard handed a box to Angela, guessing what it was then unpacked the HP All-in-one. Using his own laptop he created a fax cover sheet and used this to test the printer. Fortunately Michael had thought to include a full pack of paper.

Next he found the phone socket and ran the lead so he could use the fax. He checked that Jill had written a letter of authority and scanned this, along with the death certificate. Richard faxed this bundle of pages to Joan’s Thurso solicitor, then to the English solicitor who had been handling her divorce and assault.

Faxes and emails also went to the school office and Joan’s bank. Using the phone, for a change, he called Thurso’s main funeral directors and asked them to start making arrangements. Shortly afterwards, the coroner’s office called Joan. She was too distressed to deal with anyone but close friends so handed the call to Richard.

“Mr Smart, are you a relation?”

“No, a close friend of the family.”

“Then I’m afraid I have to speak to Mrs Small.”

“What’s your fax number?”

“Why?”

“I am going to fax something over to you, what’s your fax number please?”

The number was read out then Richard rang off. Using the laptop he then sent the authorisation letter to the Coroner’s Office. They called back a few minutes later.

“Mr Smart, I now see that you have Mrs Small’s permission.”

“Yes, but perhaps you could have asked that first?”

“I’m afraid we have enough problems with unauthorised calls, including until recently a local journalist.”

“I can imagine.” Richard could indeed guess, having arranged for the editor and chief reporter of the local paper to be relocated.

Richard was told that the inquest had been opened and postponed. It probably wouldn’t now be heard until January. In the meantime the body of George Small had been released so funeral arrangements could be made. Richard made notes of what he was being told and recorded the name of the Coroner’s office staff member. He’d not long put the phone down when it rang again, this time solicitor Kelly Masters was calling.

“Mr Smart, many thanks for the fax. Does Mrs Small want me to handle the probate?”

“I think so, she has a solicitor in Milton Keynes but we’re talking Scottish law so I suggested we engage yourself.”

“That’s very sensible. If you could email or fax me the details of her English solicitor that would be useful. Do you know where the will might happen to be, just now?”

“No, hold on.”

Richard asked Joan who just shrugged. George had handled every aspect of the family’s life which meant that Joan had long stopped paying attention to anything that looked official. Richard promised to get back to her.

“Would you happen to know who the executor might be?”

“No, sorry.”

“Nae problem. We'll deal with that later.”

Richard then rang Joan’s bank. They insisted on talking to her before Richard was accepted.

“Of course, we’ve frozen the accounts.”

“Does Mrs Small have any accounts in sole name?”

“No, all joint.”

“What about Miss Small?”

“There’s a Tim listed, but no girl, unless he’s a Timmy or a Tammy?” The guy laughed at his own poor joke.

Richard had sensibly taken the employee’s name before this outburst. Instead of arguing he slammed the phone down and resolved to handle this another way. Firstly, however, he dropped Kelly Masters an email and let her know about his conversation with the bank.

“Joan, do you trust me?”

“Of course.” Joan was just walking back into the living room, Richard’s temporary office, and hadn’t heard the previous phone conversation. Angela, in the meantime was upstairs having a shower.

“The Highland Bank have frozen your accounts until after probate has been dealt with, whilst that probably won’t happen until the inquest is concluded.”

“So what do I do about money?”

“We need to open a new account for you, quickly.”

“Can’t we just talk to the bank?”

“I tried, let me just say that I’ve asked your solicitor to handle them for me.”

“Oh, was it bad?”

“No, just distasteful.”

“Oh?” Joan was confused now but decided not to pursue the issue.

“What I suggest we do is get an account opened at my bank, by pulling a few strings we can have your new debit card here by Thursday although if you want a cheque book that will take longer. The school can then pay your salary into that account, there may even be some of George’s last wages to be paid.”

“The Head mentioned a pension lump sum.”

“Good, that will help but we need to get it invested properly.”

“If you say so.”

“I do, now — d’you trust me?”

“Yes, I do. Absolutely.”

Richard called one of his fellow directors at the bank and explained what was needed. As ever, it’s who you know not what you know — Richard, did prefer the RHIP approach — 'Rank Has Its Privileges' — whenever delicate or difficult issues were being dealt with. These privileges would be almost certainly be lost, or at least diminished, when Richard formally retired a few weeks later.

By the time Angela returned to the living room Richard had finished most of his work. Whilst Tammy’s hair hadn’t been short when she was still Tom, Angela’s father had insisted that Tim always had very short hair when he left the barbers. That meant that Angela's wig would probably be needed for a while yet. Right now it was drying in the bathroom after being washed. Angela was therefore quite self-conscious at that time.

What took Angela’s interest however, was the box that remained unopened. Inside was a shiny pink netbook, and very little else. She plugged it into the wall although she did find that the battery had held some charge, after she'd slotted it on to the underside of the laptop. Booting it up she had to go through the registration procedure, which initially failed when there was no internet connection. Angela hit the ‘remind me later’ button and managed to get the desktop up, then wondered what to do next.

“Mum, can we get broadband now?”

Richard added to the question, “Joan, I know George didn’t approve but Angela does need access to the ’net for her coursework, as indeed you will if you want to get back to your studies.”

“But we can’t afford it, George said it would cost hundreds of pounds, even if it was available all the way up here.”

“It is available, Elsie, the school and Sarah's shop in the town all have access to the internet. So far as the cost is concerned, it isn’t expensive, not now.” Richard could have called George a liar at that point, but what would he have achieved?

“Now, what about lunch?” He changed the subject.

“We don’t have much here, I should have gone shopping yesterday.”

“How about I put an online food order together with Tesco for later today then we get into town for a few bits and pieces?”

“I think so.”

“Mum, may I stay here?”

Richard answered, “Angela, I think it would be best if you came with us, to support your mum.” He really didn’t want to leave Angela on her own right now.

“I s’pose so, hang on — my wig!”

The wig was still damp so the trip into town was delayed whilst the wig was dried, slowly, with a hairdryer, Angela brushed continuously as it dried and was pleased with the look but neither her mother nor Richard had noticed the extra effort.

While Angela was busy Richard got on with some tasks. Firstly the two adults were hunched over Richard’s laptop, in the British Telecom website.

“Joan, I’ve put my personal email address down as a contact for now, we can change it when you get your own email address. Has the school allocated one yet?”

“No, will they?”

“Yes, that reminds me.”

Richard picked up the house phone. “Hello Harry, it’s Richard Smart. I understand you want me to call.”

“Yes Richard, who got to you first, Elsie, my daughter or your daughter?”

“Your daughter, but it looks like it could have been any of the females around here!”

“Yes; is your daughter always that slack at passing on messages?”

“Not normally. What’s this about the governor’s job?”

“You’ll do it then?”

“Do what?”

“Take the position.”

“Do I have any choice?”

“Not in my book.

“What’s involved?”

“A meeting once a month at the school and the odd subcommittee. You’ll be ideal for the finance group, we’ve already sent you the papers for Wednesday’s meeting.”

“I’m being rail-roaded.”

“Yes.”

“Okay, this is probably a big mistake though.”

“That’s the spirit. See you Wednesday, ten sharp.”

Harry rang off before Richard could argue. With nothing else to do, he shepherded the others into his car. As he started the car Richard received a text on his mobile and smiled. Down town he first went to Joan’s and Angela’s bank. There was very little that could be done with Joan and George’s joint account, that was now in the hands of the solicitor. However, Angela’s account was a different matter.

“Angela, I think you should know that your account had not been changed, they still have you recorded as Tim, regardless of yesterday’s business.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. But I suggest closing the account.”

“Do you think so?”

“Yes, and that’s not just because I’m a bank director. In fact I won’t even be one of those for much longer.”

“Oh. Mum, what do you think?”

“I trust Richard, but you have to do what you think best.”

“Right.”

Angela walked up to the counter and put her old bank card on the counter.

“I’d like to close this account.”

“Can I ask why?”

“It seems a simple request yesterday couldn’t be dealt with properly, is that enough?”

Angela was trying to be very confident. She had seen a TV documentary a year earlier, where the lead character had marched into a bank demanding their account be closed, so she thought she knew the procedure.

In practice, this bank did not allow the counter staff to close accounts without a manager’s authority. The duty manager that day was the same upstart who’d seen Angela the day before.

“Hello, what’s the problem?”

“You didn’t change the name on my account.”

“There was an issue.”