Tom took Stella’s car back the next day, and life returned to normal. I worried about her and emailed her regularly, but she didn’t reply, then my name was blocked and my emails returned. I suppose I deserved it although I was trying to act in her best interest.

I went to see the solicitors as Dave had suggested. I was shown into a large office inside which sat a big man behind a huge leather topped desk. “Ah Miss Watts, do come in, coffee?” he looked at the young woman who’d shown me in.

“I prefer tea if you don’t mind?”

“Of course not, Indian, Earl Grey or China?”

“Earl Grey, thank you.”

“Thank you for coming in, I take it you received my indirect invitation via young Des’ father?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Good, my brother does occasionally get things right.”

“You’re Dave’s brother?”

“Yes, Des’ uncle. Now to business, do you have anything which proves your identity?”

I had to stop and think, I searched in my bag. “I have my driver’s licence, will that do?”

“Admirably.” I passed it to him and he checked it and the photograph. “Thank you.” He passed it back to me.

I tucked it back in the pocket inside my handbag to keep it safe. “Why did you need that?”

“A will becomes a public document once it’s surrendered to the probate court and is proved. In order to prove it I had to ensure you were who you said you were and of course before I reveal its contents, I wanted to make sure for myself. The photo is a good likeness.”

I blushed but was saved from responding by Natasha, the receptionist reappearing with my tea and his lordship’s coffee in a cafetiere. He slowly pushed the plunger down with his palm, his fingers out straight from his hand. He looked at me once or twice as he did so, smiling, he was enjoying it. I sipped my tea and crossed my legs, remembering I was wearing a skirt, a longish one and my boots.

He poured his coffee and added a dash of cream. Then he drank a long sip and sighed. “Thank you for indulging me, I do enjoy my elevenses.” He sipped again, “Ah, bliss.” I could hardly refrain from laughing, but somehow I managed it, mainly thinking how the hell I was going to face Stella if he left me anything more than her.

“Miss Watts, do you mind if I call you Catherine?”

“Most people call me Cathy.”

“Yes, thank you, Cathy, it is. Do you have any idea what Des bequeathed you?”

“No, nor do I understand why.”

“This might help to explain things. It’s a private letter from Des to you.” He handed me an envelope. “Essentially, he’s left you everything.”

I was too busy looking at the handwriting on the front of the envelope to take in what was said. I looked at him, “What did you say?”

“He’s left you everything.”

“But that’s ridiculous, we were just friends, collaborators on a film he was making. It should be left to my sister in law to be, who was engaged to him.”

“Sadly, the will was made a few months ago. He changed it, he was going to leave it all to a charity, but he changed it to the current version.”

“Why?” I felt myself get very hot.

“Maybe you should read the letter, I’ll give you a few minutes while I have a second cup of coffee, it’s Columbian and pure nectar.”

I tore open the envelope, inside was a handwritten letter.

’Dear Cathy,

Des.
XXX.’

I sat there completely shocked. This was as big a surprise as the news of his death. What on earth was I going to tell Stella? I mean neither of us needed the money, but she was his fiancée, not me. I needed to seek the counsel of Simon and Tom on this.

“Not bad news, I hope?” said Mr Lane, superior solicitor. He’d finished his coffee and was watching me.

“I’m not sure. He mentions a cat.”

“Oh that, we’ll have it put down for you.”

“No, he asked me to look after it.”

“Well that would be taking care of it.”

“No, Mr Lane, I shall take his cat and look after it. “

“As you wish. I have some keys to his cottage, please don’t remove anything of value, it all has to be assessed for the valuation and any inheritance tax payable. I have chap calling to see it next week. The estate won’t be settled for several months, I’m afraid, as we have to deal with creditors and so on. Do you know where it is?”

“I think we had a meeting there once prior to going to the BBC.”

“Yes, you’re involved with his wildlife film, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I am, I wrote the script for him, and he was trying to get me to present it.”

“I’m sure you’d do it admirably.”

“Anyway, we’ll sort out the estate and let you know how much it’s all worth. He had about ten thousand in his bank accounts, so there’s plenty to pay off his creditors with, you should do reasonably well. He obviously named us as executors.”

So you’ll do well, too. I thought but didn’t say. “What about his mortgage?”

“I don’t think he had one, his dad loaned him the money and he paid it back years ago. He was quite astute with money, despite his reputation, he was actually quite a sedate chap. Well thanks for coming in,” he reached over and shook my hand, and I was dismissed. I signed some forms on the way out and got after requesting it, a copy of the will.

I felt embarrassed by it, but the first priority was to look after his cat. With this in mind, I set off to his cottage, now my cottage, to meet my cat and take her home with me. I had an awful thought–I hope Spike will be safe with her. I shivered as I got into my car.