The Legacy, Caroline Bond [popular books to read txt] 📗

Even if they had been less hostile, Megan knew she would still have struggled. They were like a knot that was too tightly entangled to be unravelled, at least by her. The thought of having to face them at the solicitor’s, without Jonathan at her side, filled Megan with – she tried to identify the feeling pressing down on her – dread was probably the most honest answer.

She ‘got’ why they had never accepted her, and she understood why they would never forgive her. But surely, after all that had happened, there had to be a chance they might find it in their hearts to let old resentments go. They were all hurting. All grieving Jonathan’s loss. This surely was the moment for them to come together – share what they had in common, rather than dwell on what divided them.

The tide was beginning to retreat, leaving behind an arc of pristine wet sand. It was a beautiful blowy November day, fresh, clean. It gave Megan’s flattened spirits a nudge.

Perhaps the meeting would go okay.

Perhaps it would give her a chance to prove to them that she’d only ever wanted Jonathan – not what came with him, or after him.

Perhaps they would embrace and let old enmities die.

Perhaps.

Chapter 3

RACHEL HEWSON decided to take a stroll away from her desk. She had all the paperwork for the Coulter meeting in order. She’d mentally rehearsed what she was going to say and had speculated as to the questions they were likely to ask. She was ready. There was nothing more she could do.

She headed down the corridor into the small room next to the kitchen. The room was little more than a cupboard really. It was home to the Hoover, the reams of paper that they still went through and – the real motivation for Rachel’s visit – the three video monitors. They’d had the security cameras fitted in the summer after an incident with an estranged, enraged husband who had felt the need to vent his frustrations on Greenwood’s, having been explicitly prohibited from doing so on his long-suffering partner. The cameras covered the pavement in front of the offices, the conference room and reception area. Death and divorce were all good for business, but less so for tempers. Rachel hoped this wouldn’t be the case with Jonathan Coulter’s family – though given his idiosyncratic instructions, it was highly likely that the meeting was not going to be straightforward.

Rachel scanned the monitors. By the look of it, the first member of the Coulter family had already arrived. She was fairly confident that the woman pecking at her mobile with slim fingers and glancing repeatedly out through the big plate-glass windows at the high street was Olivia, the eldest daughter. From the telephone conversations they’d had, and the follow-up confirmatory emails, it was obvious that Olivia had nominated herself ‘head of the family’, now that her father had passed. It was always useful to know who was the key decision-maker in inheritance cases. If you had a grasp of the dynamics within families and knew who had the most influence, who the least, it was sometimes possible to reduce the degree of conflict. Reduce, but not avoid it altogether. On the phone Olivia had been polite, organised, but she’d sounded hassled. All their exchanges had been about the practical arrangements, as if her priority was the speedy resolution of the matter rather than the substance of it. Rachel suspected that Olivia’s perspective might well be about to change.

In the flesh, or at least in the grainy black-and-white image on the small screen, Olivia gave off the same sense of impatience as she had on the phone. A trait she’d inherited from her father, possibly? Even with the tremors caused by his illness, it had been obvious that Jonathan Coulter was a restless, energetic person. Children inherited so much from their parents – not just their money. People tended to focus on the similarities in appearance, but Rachel had worked with families where the link between the ‘parent’ and the ‘child’ was much more deep-seated; mannerisms, temperaments, values, indeed whole personalities were passed on through the genes.

A change in Olivia’s posture alerted Rachel to the arrival of another member of the Coulter clan. Recognition bloomed on Olivia’s face as the door to the offices opened. She rose from her seat and greeted the woman with a brief hug. This must be the younger sister, Chloe. They exchanged a few words that Rachel couldn’t hear. The new arrival carried her grief more obviously than Olivia. It was evident in her posture and the way she shrugged off her coat as if the pockets were filled with bricks. Underneath she was wearing a plain shift dress that, through the unforgiving lens of the camera, looked very creased. The contrast between the two women was marked. Olivia – smartly dressed, poised, present. Chloe – dishevelled and curiously absent. Greetings over, the women chose their seats and looked away from each other.

Ten minutes later the door opened again and another young woman entered – in a flap – all scarves and apologetic gestures. Again there was a short dance of welcome, with brief hugs and limited words.

And then there were three.

The new arrival sat next to Olivia and struggled out of her jacket. Then, for a second, both women looked up and stared directly at Rachel through the camera lens. Two very different dress styles and manner, but the same eyes and shape of face. That’s when Rachel realised her mistake.

There were not three relatives in reception, but two. The second woman to arrive had been Megan, Jonathan’s partner, not his daughter.

Rachel’s error brought a flush of embarrassment to her face, which she was thankful there was no one around to witness. She knew, of course, that Jonathan Coulter had been divorced and that his new partner was his junior by quite a few years, but seeing the three woman together brought home how close