Page 96 of Boomerville at Ballymegille

‘What on earth do you mean?’

‘Bill has left his entire estate, which is house, contents, money in the bank and his car,’ she paused and stared at the expectant faces, then with a beaming smile, turned and faced Melissa. ‘You, my dear, are the sole beneficiary of the estate of William Arthur Bradbury.’

There was a silence in the room as everyone turned to Melissa. Her eyes were wide and she held her hand to her mouth as she whispered, ‘You must be mistaken, that can’t possibly be true.’

‘I can assure you that there’s no mistake.’ Hattie fiddled with the paperwork and produced a small envelope. She handed it to Melissa. ‘Bill included this with his will, to be given to you in the event of his death.’

One word was neatly handwritten on the front of the letter. It simply read,Melissa.

‘I think you should read that on your own.’ Jo stood up and put her arm around Melissa.

‘And I think we could all do with a stiff drink,’ Hattie said, stuffing the papers back in the large brown envelope. ‘James, be an absolute darling and dig out some gin, make it large ones all round.’

As James disappeared from the room, Finbar’s phone began to ring. Hattie turned and watched as he dug in his pocket.

With a polite, ‘Excuse me,’ Finbar answered the call and left the room.

‘Everything alright?’ Hattie asked, when he returned.

‘Er, I’m not sure.’ Finbar looked anxious. ‘It’s Mam, I’ve to get home.’

‘Can we do anything?’ Jo walked with Finbar to the door.

‘No, it’ll be fine,’ he said. ‘I’ll be in touch as soon as I can, about Bill’s funeral arrangements.’

‘Please let us know about your mother,’ Jo said. ‘Ring me if there’s anything that you need.’

As Finbar left the room, Melissa called out, ‘I hope that your mam will be okay.’

But Finbar didn’t hear her. He was already at the end of the corridor and heading for the front door.

* * *

Finbar stoodbeside his mother’s bed and reached down to take her hand. The old girl’s eyes were closed and her neatly brushed hair was as white as the delicately embroidered pillow case, where her head lay. Skin that had wrinkled with age appeared smooth and she wore an expression of peace and tranquillity. Her fingers were cold and Finbar had the urge to rub them warm. But he didn’t move, there was no point. No amount of rubbing would breathe life back into these bones.

The old lady had been dead for almost an hour.

Finbar felt hot tears burn the skin on his cheeks; he swayed slightly and squeezed his eyes shut. He’d known that this day would come but in his heart, he hadn’t prepared for it and now he felt an overwhelming sense of grief for this woman who’d been such a large part of his life.

‘The doctor is here,’ the carer said and touched Finbar gently on the arm. ‘I’ve made you a cup of tea but you might want something stronger.’

Finbar looked up as Doctor MacKinley stepped into the room.

‘I’m sorry for your loss,’ the doctor said. ‘Your mam was a fine woman.’ He reached into his bag for a stethoscope. ‘If you’d care to step outside, while I just do what’s necessary.’

Finbar nodded and as if in a trance, walked away from the bed.

‘Have a drop of this.’ The carer held out a glass of whisky and led Finbar to a chair. ‘It was very peaceful,’ she said softly. ‘We’d had a little bit of tea and I’d settled her; I went to do the dishes and when I came back, she’d gone.’

‘I wished I’d been here,’ Finbar said and he took a slug of the whisky.

‘Sometimes it’s better when you’re not, that’s when they want to slip quietly away.’ The carer poured a drink for herself and took a sip. ‘The priest has been held up but he’s on his way.’

‘Natural causes,’ the doctor said, as he came into the sitting room. ‘She had a good innings.’

The carer poured the doctor a drink too and they sat in silence as they sipped the smooth malt.

‘I’ll sort out the death certificate and other formalities.’ Doctor MacKinley placed his empty glass on the table and stood. ‘You must make arrangements as soon as you can.’