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the end to talk you through the rights and responsibilities of executors. It helps if everyone is on the same page. Each executor will be given a copy of the will to take away with them today. We retain the original for safekeeping.’

Nobody said anything. They all waited, trying hard not to look too eager, or too interested, or on edge, or any of the things that they were, no doubt, actually feeling.

Rachel went on, taking care to make sure she scanned the room as she spoke – inclusivity was important. ‘Alongside his will, Jonathan also put together a Statement of Wishes. It’s because of the stipulations in this statement that I wanted to get you all together, in person. I do appreciate you making the effort to come into the office today.’ The glance Liv gave her brother at this point was not friendly. Rachel forced herself to concentrate. ‘I have received apologies from Ms Eloise Coulter. I assume one of you will update her on our meeting.’

They all nodded, with the exception of Megan.

‘Rather unusually, Jonathan asked me to read out his Statement of Wishes before I distribute his will.’ She slid the statement out of her file. ‘If we’re all ready?’ They gave their assent. She felt a red flush begin to creep up her neck above the collar of her shirt. ‘Just to clarify, a Statement of Wishes is quite common nowadays. Many people write one in order to express their views with regard to the details of their funeral, any specific bequests or gifts, and so on.’ She picked up the sheet. ‘Jonathan’s statement is a little more particular.’ She looked down, then paused again. ‘I should make it clear that a Statement of Wishes is the expression of an individual’s desires, but it isn’t a legally binding document. I thought you should know that – in the circumstances.’

The prevarication was obviously infuriating them. The atmosphere in the room teetered on the edge of exasperation.

Rachel pushed her glasses up her nose and began. Jonathan’s words, accented by her faint Welsh lilt, filled the room:

‘Dear Liv, Noah and Chloe,

If you’re listening to this being read out at the solicitor’s, then I’m sorry, it has obviously beaten me. That’s okay, I suppose. Something gets us all eventually. It’s just bad luck that my end has come much sooner than I would have liked.

Knowing that you are dying is remarkably helpful in making you focus on what really matters. The problem is, it doesn’t, unfortunately, endow you with any profound insights into how to deal with the consequences of your death. Indeed, I’ve found the opposite. Knowing that my time is limited has led me to reflect more on the mistakes I’ve made in my life, especially as a husband and a father, rather than on the successes. I’m hoping that I managed the grandpa bit okay? Or at least I did until I became so sodding useless.’

At this point Rachel paused and took a sip of water.

‘I used to think of myself as a fair man and not a selfish one, but I’ve come to realise that neither of those descriptions is true. On reflection, I realise I’ve chosen a route through life that has been in my own best interest. Some of those decisions have been at the cost of others – especially, ironically, the people I love most. For that, I am truly sorry.

I am determined not to make the same mistake in death.

Hence my will.

I hope you understand, respect and execute my wishes.

I have every faith you will.

I ask that you do your best.

I hope your best is better than mine.

Dad

P.S. Knowing how long it takes you three to agree on anything, I’ve added a small incentive to the situation. I FORBID YOU TO HOLD MY FUNERAL UNTIL EVERYTHING IS SETTLED.’

Having got through the statement, Rachel leant back in her chair and waited for the implications to sink in. At her elbow sat a small stack of snow-white envelopes – Jonathan’s will. The siblings had all studiously avoided looking at them while she was talking. Perhaps they thought such attention would appear too nakedly eager. Now they stared. Only Jonathan’s partner, Megan, didn’t shift her gaze. She continued to focus on the small window over Rachel’s left shoulder – the window that faced out onto a brick wall. Randomly Rachel remembered her old ballet teacher telling the class that if they kept their eyes on a fixed spot, it would stop them wobbling as they did their spins. Maybe Megan was practising the same discipline.

Rachel acquiesced to their silent request. ‘I think it best if you read the will itself.’ She picked up the envelopes, stood and walked around the table. She placed a copy in front of each of the siblings.

There was no envelope for Megan.

No one moved for a beat of one, two, three; on beat four, Noah reached out his hand, prompting Liv to snatch up her copy. Chloe followed suit.

Rachel watched Megan flinch as they tore open their envelopes, but she kept her chin held high. Rachel felt a flush of admiration and pity for her. For a minute the only movement was the blinking of their eyelids as each of the siblings read the enclosed document.

Noah was the first to register his response – ‘What the fuck!’ – said with energy, shock and, to Rachel’s ears, a note of amusement.

The older sister, Olivia, hadn’t finished reading. She held up her hand, warding off his pre-emptive reaction. The younger sister, Chloe, was alternating between reading and looking up in bewilderment. ‘I don’t understand. Hasn’t he left any other instructions?’

Noah answered her, somewhat sharply. ‘Chloe, it’s not complicated. Dad’s left it to us to decide.’

Liv turned the page, obviously looking for more than the scant six paragraphs. There was no more.

Rachel had put the will together for Jonathan. She’d even sourced the witnesses to sign it, when Jonathan explained that he wanted its contents to remain confidential until his death. He

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