The first time we met face to face, at his funeral, you smiled at me. It wasn’t a nice smile.
You didn’t need to introduce yourself in that supercilious tone. I would have recognised you. It was your perfume, you see. Clingy. I smelled it on his clothes and that expensive car he’s just bought reeked of it. I suppose one of the advantages of cheap scent, is that you can afford to be liberal with it. The other give-away was your lipstick. Personally, I find prostitute-red brash and dated, so, I applaud you for flaunting that colour, especially at your age with such sallow skin. The problem I find with poor-quality make-up is the difficulty in removing it from clothes, but you must be used to it.
I overheard you at his funeral. I am sorry you’re disappointed to be losing out on those cosy weekends away and restaurant bookings, but I hear you have found a new ‘friend’. And so soon. Actually, I’m more concerned that the expensive eatery in the High Street might be unable to cope with the dip in profits. Did you think I wouldn’t know what you got up to? I don’t suppose he mentioned that his credit card was a second one on my account.
By now, you should have realised that he had a difficult relationship with the truth. In fact, I’m not sure they were even on speaking terms this last year, so I will be blunt. The house belongs to me. Always has. The pre-nup was signed over forty years ago. Whatever he promised, it will never belong to you. So, you might want to disengage that architect you have drawing up plans to redesign my kitchen. If you ask nicely, he might refund your fees, but from what I’ve seen that’s probably a stretch too far for you.
Were you disappointed with his Will? Personally, I have never liked flashy red cars. They always seem like a compensation for some male inadequacy. But he was cheeky, leaving his new car to you and expecting me to sell it and hand you the proceeds. Typical of him, but no less than you deserved. Have you seen that boy racer who tears round and round the ring road night after night with his mates? He drives the rattly tin can full of dents with scrapes down the sides? When he realised that I was serious about selling him the car, he was over the moon. He’s got airhorns in it now and when he drives past, gives me a blast and a smile. I know he’s grateful. He even videoed the exchange in case he needed proof and sent me a copy. He couldn’t believe the deal I gave him. No surprise there.
But the solicitor was surprised I got so little for the car. The receipt was all in order and he had the video proof. He smiled when I pointed out that we all get what we deserve.
I am sharpening my smile of pure satisfaction for the next time we meet.