Page 87 of Deep Blue Sea

‘So, were you surprised by the contents of Julian’s will?’ said Elizabeth, slicing a knife through the pastry. She looked up, her bright eyes challenging Diana’s as she served the food. It was typical of her to cut straight to the chase.

‘Well, Adam got the Ducatis. That wasn’t too much of a shock.’

Elizabeth licked a fleck of pink salmon flesh from her fingertip and sat down.

‘I thought it was only fair to let you know as soon as possible that we intend to contest the will,’ she said, as matter-of-factly as if she were reporting the weather.

‘I’m sorry?’ gasped Diana, feeling the words stick in her throat.

‘Don’t take it personally,’ replied Elizabeth more kindly. ‘But you should understand that this is family. This is business.’

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sp; ‘What do you mean, this is family? Charlie and I were Julian’s family. His wife and son.’ She could feel a circle of heat pooling around her neck. She was determined not to wither, but Elizabeth had switched into full aggressive business mode.

‘We accepted you into this family, Diana, but Julian was your only connection to it. Charlie is not Julian’s natural son and he is not a Denver. We certainly can’t allow him to be on the board.’

‘Of course Charlie is his son,’ said Diana, willing herself to stay strong. ‘Not by birth, but legally. Julian adopted him.’

Elizabeth waved her hand as if that was a trifling legality.

‘This is bigger than that, Diana. This affects the whole company. We can’t allow Julian’s sentimentality to undermine the stability of a multi-billion-pound business.’

‘Sentimentality?’ said Diana, amazed. ‘Julian loved Charlie; he was his father!’

Elizabeth was clearly unmoved by this argument. Diana forced herself to think. She knew she was not as smart as her sister-in-law, she didn’t have the mental nimbleness to win arguments, but she thought about Charlie’s face over lunch, his quiet determination that he was going to make his father proud.

‘Challenge the will. On what grounds?’ she asked, battling to disguise the shake in her voice.

‘Mental incompetence, of course.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ spluttered Diana.

‘I spent the whole day with a very experienced team of probate lawyers yesterday and they seem to think otherwise. Julian killed himself. I hate to remind you of that detail. But he did. He had lost his mind. He was unstable, depressed, unpredictable undoubtedly. It was a very recent will and I am not convinced that he was of the appropriate soundness of mind to make it. Certainly I am aware that previous versions made proper provisions for Julian’s shareholding. I believe they were gifted to Adam and myself which my lawyers are calling a testamentary promise, especially in view of all the work I do for Denver. Julian could not have done his job without me . . .’

‘You’re wicked, you know that,’ said Diana, standing up and throwing her napkin down on the table. Her cheeks were burning.

Elizabeth put a regal arm out to soften the atmosphere.

‘I am not the bad guy here, Diana. Believe it or not, I don’t want to see you and Charlie lose out. You deserve Somerfold. And if Julian wanted you to have his other investments, then so be it.’ Her mouth twitched as if she didn’t exactly believe what she was saying. ‘But forget the Denver shareholdings, Diana. Be reasonable. Think of the family, the business. And ask yourself – do you really, honestly want it for Charlie? The profile, the responsibility? The family certainly don’t want to see him fall short. There is an earlier will we suggest should be admitted to probate. In it there are plenty of provisions that will make you a very wealthy woman. Richer than you ever dreamt possible when you first arrived in London. I mean, ask yourself, how much money do you and Charlie need?’

‘This isn’t about the money,’ Diana whispered. ‘This is about Julian. His wishes. What he wanted for Charlie.’

Elizabeth gave a hard, superior laugh. ‘Julian could be a fool. He let his heart rule his head. You know that more than anyone.’

‘Ralph, Adam, I don’t believe they would do this . . .’ She had to put her hands on the table to support herself. Her whole body felt beaten and weak.

‘My parents are old, as you well know, and my father is in ill health. You correctly guess that they won’t want a fight, but they will, believe me, if it means protecting the company, protecting the family.’

‘Is that how you see yourself now? The head of the family?’ she said with as much scorn as she could muster. ‘I am glad to hear that Julian’s death has been of some use to you.’

Elizabeth put down her fork. ‘How dare you say such a thing?’ she said, making no attempt to conceal her contempt.

Diana could feel her resolve crumbling. The fog was creeping back in, ready to suffocate her.

‘I’m leaving,’ she said quietly.

‘Fine. Go,’ said Elizabeth sharply. ‘Go home and think about whether you’ve got the strength for the fight.’