The Legacy: Trouble Comes Disguised As Family (Unspoken Book 2) by T. Belshaw (warren buffett book recommendations .txt) 📕

‘If she can’t help, I’m happy to offer my services,’ Bradley volunteered.

Jess smiled. ‘Thank you, that’s very kind, but I’m sure Sam will help. What does my share of the meal come to?’

Bradley looked shocked. ‘It’s my treat. I really enjoyed your company.’

Jess waited at the entrance while Bradley went inside to settle the bill. When he returned, the pair walked back to the car park and stood awkwardly between the two cars. Eventually, Bradley offered his hand.

‘It’s been a pleasure to be of service. If there’s anything else you need from us, any advice on how the trust works… well, you know where we are.’

Jess ignored his proffered hand, leaned forward and gave him a peck on the cheek. ‘I’ll be in touch as soon as I set a date for the housewarming. I’ll know pretty much what I’m going to do to the old place by then. A bathroom upgrade is a must and the sooner I get some new appliances in that kitchen, the better.’

Bradley stood by the open door of the Mercedes as Jess climbed into her little Toyota. She closed the driver’s door, snapped on her seatbelt, dropped the passenger side window and leaned across to give him a wave. ‘Thanks for everything,’ she called.

As Bradley climbed into his car, she put the Toyota into gear, eased her foot off the clutch and pulled away.

Two hours later, with a car full of clothes, a few food supplies and a chilled bottle of Pinot Grigio lifted from Sam’s fridge, Jess pulled onto the asphalt in front of the wide, tubular gates at the side of Mollison’s farm.

Climbing out, she pulled a set of keys from her bag and walked slowly to the front door.

Sam pulled two black plastic bags from the back seat of her own car, and carried them to the front step. ‘Take a deep breath, love. It’s all yours now.’

Jess looked back over her shoulder. ‘I’m okay, Sam, I was just thinking about some of the happier times I spent here,’ she pushed a silver key into the Yale lock. ‘It will always be Nana’s house to me.’

Jess opened the door and taking one of the black bags from Sam she stepped into the hall. She walked by the stairwell, opened the door on the left, flicked the light switch, and walked into the lounge, where her beloved Nana had spent the last year of her life.

‘You know, Sam, the last time I came in here, all I could think about was Nana slumped in her chair, but now, although I can feel her presence, the gloom seems to have lifted.’ She turned slowly, taking in all four corners of the room, the big old clock on the wall that had annoyed Alice so much as it ticked her life away, the hospital bed in the corner with all its gadgets, the sideboard with the new DAB radio that Jess had bought her, perched on top, the lion’s foot coffee table that had held up so many tea trays over the years, the shiny, Marylyn Monroe wall art, and last but not least. Nana’s armchair with the two large, green cushions that she had propped herself up with.

Sam dropped the bag she had carried in onto the floor and turned to get another one from the car.

‘You’ll be wanting to get rid of most of this stuff, I expect. Those armchairs have seen better days.’

‘That particular armchair is going nowhere,’ replied Jess. She looked around again. ‘I have an idea who might find a home for the bed, and the sofa has to go, even Nana said so. I’ll definitely be getting a new one. The first thing I need to buy is a new bed. The springs in Nana’s old one play a tune whenever anyone lies down on it.’

‘How many bedrooms do you have?’ Sam asked.

‘Four now, plus the attic, that’s huge. There were five originally but Nana had one converted to a shower room a few years ago.’

‘No bath? I love a shower, but I couldn’t live without a bath to soak in.’

Jess walked to the open kitchen door. ‘There is a bathroom. It was built onto the parlour on the other side of the kitchen,’ said Jess. ‘But it hasn’t been used for thirty years or more. The bath is cracked and the sink is hanging off the wall. I could get that fixed up, though I might just leave that as it is and have a bath put in next to the shower upstairs. The downstairs bathroom was added during the nineteen-thirties and it hasn’t been touched since.’

Sam pointed towards the stairs. ‘Put one up there, love, maybe just get the lavatory working down here.’

Twenty minutes later, Jess and Sam sat on the old sofa sipping at glasses of Pinot Grigio, the nine black bags having been unloaded from the cars and stacked like a plastic Stonehenge in the middle of the lounge.

‘Here’s to your new home?’ Sam chinked Jess’s glass and took a deep sip. ‘Ooh, that’s hit the spot. It’s a shame I can only have this titchy amount.’

‘You can stay over if you don’t mind a lumpy old bed,’ said Jess. ‘I’ll have the sofa. It isn’t a problem.’ Jess looked hopefully at her best friend.

Sam thought for a moment, then drained her glass. ‘Sounds good to me, pass that bottle.’

Jess poured herself a top up and passed the bottle to Sam, who filled her own glass to the brim.

‘This sofa isn’t the most comfortable thing I’ve ever sat on, and I can fully understand why you don’t want to use the hospital bed, so why don’t we share the upstairs bed? It wouldn’t be the first time we bunked up together.’

‘It’s bad enough with one person sleeping on it,’ Jess said with a laugh. ‘It would be like a rusty spring orchestra playing Beethoven’s fifth with two of us tossing and turning all night.’

Jess patted the pocket of her