BERNADETTE CYNTHIA HEALY
'Keith, please join us.' I turn my attention to Mr Hayworth, 'would it be possible for Keith to record the minutes of this meeting? You would have no aversion to that I hope?'
'Of course, be my guest.'
Keith sits down at the back of the conference room, only two rows behind Mr Hayworth, facing me. Having surrounded our intruder and had a sip of water, I relay the questions and answers we have shared so far with Keith. He jots down several notes in his indecipherable short hand and I wait for Mr Hayworth to resume his interrogation.
'Would you mind giving a short rendition of your relationship with Ms Healy, a brief outline of how the two of you know each other?'
I clear my throat, I don't want to seem uneasy in front of Summerbees' representative, however, I also don't want to divulge my personal life in front of a stranger and a close friend and colleague. 'We were acquaintances through my late husband.'
'But from our records I can see you haven't been in contact with her since 1978, when your eldest daughter got married. Can you tell me why she'd bequeath to you, someone she hasn't spoken to for twenty five years, a sum of £6.3million? Even if you do complete the request, it seems a rather absurd amount for someone, as you say, she barely knew.'
I'm horrified by his knowledge, and the gleam in his eye lets me know that he is completely aware of the affair his client had with my husband. I am unsure how to react, I do not want to let my emotions get the better of me, but I would love nothing more than to wipe that smug smirk off of Mr Hayworth's lips.
Keith, thankfully interrupts the silence, 'are you saying that Ms Healy may not have been in her right mind when she had her Last Will and Testament drawn up? Does that mean someone is contesting the Will? Because last I checked, Summerbees policy is to always have a psychological report certified before the Wills are signed? This means, either the Will for Ms Healy is completely sound, or someone wasn't doing their job properly, which is it Mr Hayworth?'
I could kiss Keith. The smug grin has certainly left Mr Hayworth's lips, and at long last he grabs a napkin from the tray of water and biscuits and blows his nose. The disturbance gives Keith and I enough time to share a look of triumph. I notice that Keith is also twisting his index finger in a circular manner, an indication that this meeting is worth wrapping up sooner rather than later.
After the nose of Mr Hayworth's has been properly blown and wiped, I stand to indicate that this meeting is over.