Lost Angel (27 page)

Irritated, Rita waved her hand at him in a dismissive gesture. ‘This is nothing to do with you, Mickey. Go back in there.’

‘Actually, Mr Hynes ought to be present at the reading,’ the solicitor informed her. ‘Along with his brother William, Ruth and her husband, Lisa, and Mr O’Callaghan.’

‘Mr O’Callaghan?’ Rita repeated blankly.

‘Big Pat,’ Trevor Dean explained.

Rita drew her head back and pushed her lips out. ‘You must have brought the wrong will if them wasters are mentioned in it.’ She flashed Mickey a dirty look to let him know that she was including him in that. ‘I don’t know about Big Pat, but I know for a fact he wouldn’t have left his brothers anything, ’cos they haven’t bothered with him in years.’

‘Shows how much you know, you hoity-toity bitch,’ spat Mickey. ‘I might not have had a chance to come over to see him in a while, but me and him still talked on the phone.’

‘I don’t see how, considering he hasn’t been able to talk for years,’ Rita sneered.

‘Ask our Ruthie if you don’t believe me,’ Mickey said angrily.

‘I can assure you that this is the correct will,’ Trevor Dean piped up loudly. ‘And the faster we proceed, the sooner you’ll all know what’s what.’

‘If he’s left him and that brother of theirs anything that’s mine by right, you’d better believe I’ll be contesting it,’ Rita told him spikily.

‘Just let him read the damn thing,’ Ruth hissed at her mother impatiently. Then, smiling, she waved the solicitor into the parlour, calling back to Lisa, ‘Go and get Uncle Billy and Big Pat.’

‘What’s going on?’ Johnny asked as he came in from the back garden while the group was making its way into the parlour.

‘Thought this was supposed to be a party?’ Dave added cheerily when he saw all the solemn faces. Self-consciously wiping his nose when Ruth glared at him, he muttered, ‘Sorry. I’ll go and get a drink.’ Then, lowering his head he walked quickly down the corridor and disappeared into the front room.

Trevor Dean waited until everybody was settled before he took the paperwork out of his briefcase. After reading quickly through the preliminary testaments of Frankie’s name, and his assertion that he had been of sound mind when he had made the will, Dean at last got to the bit that they were all waiting for:

‘To my brother Mickey, I leave the sum of twenty thousand pounds,’ he read. ‘On the strict understanding that he looks after our Mam until her death – or his. If he goes first, the money passes to our brother Billy – on the understanding that he takes her on. And to Billy himself, I leave the sum of ten thousand pounds.’

‘That ain’t fair,’ Mickey objected. ‘Our Billy gets to take his money and run, but I’m lumbered with me ma.’

‘She’s already been living with you and Maria for years, so what’s the fecking difference?’ Billy argued.

‘That ain’t the point,’ Mickey grumbled.

‘Just shut up and think yourselves lucky you’re getting anything,’ snapped Rita, relieved that Frankie hadn’t left them anything substantial, like a share in the business or something similar.

‘To Lisa, who’s been more like a second daughter to me than a niece,’ Trevor Dean continued, ‘I leave the sum of five thousand pounds, and the house known as number 23 Foster Street.’

‘I don’t think so,’ Ruth blurted out, already upset that her dad had used his last words to place her cousin in the same category as her. ‘That’s mine and Johnny’s house. We’ve been paying that mortgage for years.’

‘That may be so, but your father never actually transferred the deeds into either of your names, so, therefore, it remained his property,’ the solicitor informed her. ‘And he has bequeathed it to Lisa.’

‘Wow,’ Lisa murmured, sitting back in her seat with a look of bewilderment on her face.

‘That’s getting contested, for starters,’ Rita asserted huffily.

After assuring her that it was all quite legal and above board, the solicitor shifted in his seat and looked at Big Pat.

‘To Big Pat, I leave my Cadillac and fifty thousand pounds,’ he read. Then, blushing, he cleared his throat and said, ‘He, um, also asked me to pass on the following message: “We had a fuck of a good run, old man, but it’s time to retire, so go rent yourself a cottage in the country, or buy a caravan, or whatever the fuck you want to do, and let the young ’uns take over.”’

Big Pat nodded slowly, but his eyes were as unreadable as ever, so Johnny didn’t know if he was relieved or devastated. But it was exactly the right decision, in his opinion. As Frankie had said, Big Pat was getting old, and that made him resistant to change. Johnny had spent the last couple of years banging his head against a brick wall, trying to make the man see the sense in getting rid of some of the more unprofitable arms of the business. The protection racket, for example, had turned out to be way more hassle than it was worth. Also, the stolen motors: Johnny had wanted to move into the luxury-car market for ages now, but Big Pat had insisted on sticking to the easy stuff. And he definitely hadn’t liked the idea of Johnny branching out into powders, even though it made total sense – because it was a hell of a lot more profit, was way easier to shift, and required much less storage space. So, yeah, Frankie had hit the nail on the head, as far as Johnny was concerned. It was time for Big Pat to bow out and leave Johnny to get on with it in his own way.

‘
Fifty thousand?
’ squawked Rita. ‘There’ll be nothing left at this rate. What’s he flaming well playing at?’

‘How come he gets so much more than us?’ Billy was furious. ‘We’re his feckin’ family.’

‘Yeah, and youse have had sod all to do with him in years,’ Rita reminded him angrily. ‘At least Big Pat’s been there for him. But that still don’t mean he deserves fifty grand.’

‘Ssshh,’ Ruth scolded, eager to hear what her dad had left for her. ‘Please go on, Mr Dean.’

‘To my wife Rita,’ the solicitor continued, ‘I leave the jewellery I’ve invested in over the years.’

‘It’s all bloody well mine anyway,’ Rita said indignantly.

‘Including the items that are stored in my safety deposit box,’ added the solicitor.

‘
What
safety deposit box?’ Rita’s brow furrowed deeply.

‘I’ll give you the details after we’ve finished,’ the solicitor told her. Then, turning to Ruth, he smiled and said, ‘To my daughter Ruth, who has been the light of my life and the apple of my eye since the day she was born, despite being as stubborn as a mule and as mean as a wasp, I leave my house and—’

‘You what?’ Rita cut in furiously. ‘He thinks he can leave
me
some poxy jewellery and give my house to
her
? No flaming chance! I’m his wife, and everything’s mine now he’s dead.’

‘Unfortunately, none of his properties, bank accounts or businesses were actually listed in joint names, so I’m afraid you have no legal claim to any of them,’ the solicitor informed her. ‘He did, however, state that Ruth is to allow you to continue to live here, and provide for you in a monetary sense.’

‘Get stuffed!’ Rita blurted out furiously. ‘He’s got no right. Twenty-odd years I supported that swine, and he thinks he’s doing this to me from the grave? I’m getting my solicitor onto this.’

‘As you wish.’ Trevor Dean inclined his head. ‘Although I would advise you to employ extreme caution, as any action you take will result in the contested assets being frozen with immediate effect. And these cases tend to take a considerable length of time to come to court, by which time both parties will have accrued sizeable bills for legal services.’

‘So you’re telling me I’ll lose either way?’ Rita gasped.

The solicitor gave the slightest of shrugs.

‘What about Johnny?’ Ruth asked. ‘You said he needed to be here, but you still haven’t mentioned him.’

‘I was getting to that,’ Trevor Dean told her. ‘Your father has left the house to you solely, but the business known as Hynes Autos – and several subsidiary concerns – will be co-owned by yourself and his son-in-law, at a rate of fifty-one per cent to yourself and forty-nine to Johnny.

‘Johnny is to be allowed, without interference, to continue running everything exactly as he has so far been doing. He will also retain control of all monies related to and arising from said businesses.

‘However,’ Dean continued, ‘if Johnny wishes to accept these shares he will be required to sign a contract to the effect that, should he and Ruth separate or divorce, he will relinquish all claim on the businesses, and will accept a lump-sum payment of fifty thousand pounds in final and absolute settlement.’

Finished, he inhaled deeply and looked from one to the other of them.

‘Is that all clear?’

‘So we both own the businesses,’ Ruth murmured. ‘But Johnny stays in control. Unless we split up, then it’s all mine.’

‘Not quite.’ Trevor Dean smiled. ‘Should Johnny relinquish his shares, they will pass over to Frankie’s granddaughter, Angel, and be held in trust until she reaches the age of twenty-one.’

‘Hah!’ Rita scoffed, flashing Johnny a triumphant sneer. ‘Bet you thought he was just going to hand everything over to you, didn’t you, you little chancer? But he wasn’t quite as stupid as you thought, was he?’

‘No, that’s why he didn’t leave
you
anything,’ Lisa reminded her, feeling sick for Johnny – and herself. Bang went her dreams of him dumping Ruth and walking away with half. If they split, he’d lose everything. Well, almost everything, but fifty grand wouldn’t get them very far.

Johnny was thinking the exact same thing. He’d worked his bollocks off turning Frankie’s crappy little car lot into a respectable, lucrative business, and fifty grand was an absolute insult. But he knew exactly why Frankie had done it like this. The crafty bastard had known all along that Johnny didn’t love Ruth, and this was his way of ensuring that he stayed tied to her for life.

Ruth glanced at her husband and saw that he wasn’t happy. ‘This isn’t right,’ she said guiltily. ‘Johnny’s the head of the family now – it should be his name on all this stuff, not mine. I want to sign my half over to him.’

‘I’m afraid that isn’t possible.’ Trevor Dean gathered the paperwork together and slotted it back into the briefcase. ‘Your father specifically stated that you should not be allowed to sign away your rights. But if you insist, alternative arrangements have been made.’

‘Like what?’ Rita challenged, hoping that control would pass to her instead – as it should have from the start.

‘In the event that Ruth relinquishes control, everything will be signed over to Angel, and administered on her behalf by an independent party,’ the solicitor explained. ‘Now, unless anybody has any further questions, I would like to speak with Mrs Hynes and Mrs Conroy in private.’

When Johnny stood up and walked out of the room, Lisa jumped up and rushed after him.

‘Johnny, wait,’ she hissed, catching up with him by the front door.

‘Leave me alone,’ he muttered. ‘I need some air.’

‘I’ll come with you.’

‘No. I want to be on my own.’

‘Please don’t push me away,’ Lisa begged. ‘I know fifty grand’s not a lot, but we’re smart enough to make it work for us if we’re careful. He’s gone now, so there’s nothing to stop you from leaving her. And the house is mine, so she can’t do anything if you move in with me.’

‘Are you stupid?’ Johnny spat. ‘I’m not walking away and letting her have it all.
I
’m the one who’s made it what it is, and no one’s taking it away from me.’

‘But we could be together,’ said Lisa. ‘
Properly
together.’

‘You think I’m going back to living on peanuts just so I can have sex with you?’ Johnny shot back coldly. ‘I can get sex anywhere, darlin’.’

He turned his back when tears flooded her eyes, and yanked the door open. But Angel’s voice stopped him in his tracks.

‘What’s wrong, Daddy?’

Johnny spun on his heel, and felt sick when he saw his daughter standing in the front-room doorway, a worried look on her beautiful little face.

‘Nothing, darlin’.’ He forced out a smile. ‘How long have you been there?’

‘I just came out. I need the toilet.’

‘Did you hear any of what me and Aunt Lisa were talking about?’ Exhaling shakily when Angel shook her head, Johnny picked her up and stroked her hair. ‘Sorry for being so snappy, cupcake. I’m just a bit tired. Take no notice.’

‘It’s all right,’ Angel murmured, resting her head on his shoulder. She’d already figured out that something bad must have happened, because Uncle Mickey and Uncle Billy had been arguing when they’d come back from the parlour, and all the aunts and cousins had had to hold them apart to stop them from fighting.

‘Go on up to the bathroom, babe,’ Lisa urged, wanting rid of Angel so that she could talk to Johnny.

But Ruth walked out of the parlour before anybody could move. She had offered to make the solicitor a cup of tea, but she stopped and stared when she saw the three of them standing there.

‘What’s going on?’ she demanded, immediately suspicious.

Lisa stared defiantly back at her. She was tempted to tell the bitch exactly what she should have been told ages ago: that Johnny was
her
man now, and that they were going to be together whether Ruth liked it or not. But Johnny was in such a foul mood, she decided that it was probably wiser to keep her mouth shut. For now.

‘I’m going home,’ Lisa said, raising her chin and heading back into the front room to get her coat and handbag.

Ruth glowered at Angel when her cousin had gone and said, ‘Stop pawing your father and go to your room.’

‘Don’t take it out on her,’ Johnny snapped, keeping a tight hold on his daughter.

‘She’s six, not six months,’ Ruth reminded him. ‘And it’s not healthy you always treating her like a baby.’

Johnny glared coldly back at her, determined to stand his ground. But Angel knew who would get the blame when he’d gone, so she wriggled in his arms.

‘Please, Daddy. I need the toilet.’

Johnny relented and put her back on her feet. When she ran up the stairs, he turned and opened the door.

‘Where are you going?’ Ruth asked.

‘Out,’ he said.

‘You can’t leave me on my own at a time like this,’ she protested, rushing to stop him. ‘Please, Johnny . . . I’ve only just buried my dad. And I can’t deal with
them
on my own.’ She nodded towards the front-room door, from behind which the raised voices of her uncles could clearly be heard as they continued their argument.