LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT OF
BERNADETTE CYNTHIA HEALY
EPISODE 27
BERNADETTE CYNTHIA HEALY
EPISODE 27
Explaining the ménage a trois to Keith had been somewhat embarrassing but thankfully he made no judgement, or at least he kept it to himself. The more I try and explain the situation to other people, the more difficult I find to justify it, even to myself. I fear that Summerbee's Solicitors will use my weakness as their strength and force me to recall the entire relationship in court. I can remember thinking it was the right thing to do at the time. After all, I also convinced that woman to make sacrifices for me.
I catch a bus to Bermondsey again. I'm far more familiar with the over-ground routes than the tube. Jonathon used to tease me mercilessly about my paranoia of being underground, but seeing as he loved to drive those moments were few and far between. The church is closed, as I should have realised it would be, but I get another chance to walk around the relatively quiet garden. It's far from an oasis of calm and tranquility, the bustling traffic and coarse shouts from workmen prove difficult to ignore, but it gives me a sense of belonging.
To think that Bernadette Cynthia Healy's brother married here. I know I am repeating the same thoughts I had only yesterday, but I am shaken by the experience with Mr Hayworth, more than I'd care to let Keith see, and more certainly than I'd like to admit myself. Why am I looking for the brother of my late-husbands ex-mistress? What am I looking for? Maybe Polly and Jack were right to be cautious and maybe this is a Pandora's box that should be left well-alone.
These thoughts hound me as I leave the garden. I look left, then right before I cross the road, and out of the corner of my eye I glance a wave from Father Thomas. I smile and gesture back, but not before I notice the easily recognisable briefcase from this morning. Mr Hayworth, has managed to clock up just as many miles as I have this morning.
I cross the road as would be expected, and pray that Mr Hayworth hasn't seen the wave between Father Thomas and me. I window shop for houses well out of my price range, or ones that have the potential to be in my price range should I find a certain long-lost brother, and using the window's reflection I watch as Mr Hayworth and Father Thomas enter the same church I had wandered around only the day before.
It is unsettling to watch your footsteps being followed, especially by one so impertinent as Mr Hayworth. I wonder what Jonathon would do, and I have no doubt that he would have waited for the untimely meeting to end, and then have a second conversation with the priest. He would also call Keith and fill him in on the latest information.
I catch a bus to Bermondsey again. I'm far more familiar with the over-ground routes than the tube. Jonathon used to tease me mercilessly about my paranoia of being underground, but seeing as he loved to drive those moments were few and far between. The church is closed, as I should have realised it would be, but I get another chance to walk around the relatively quiet garden. It's far from an oasis of calm and tranquility, the bustling traffic and coarse shouts from workmen prove difficult to ignore, but it gives me a sense of belonging.
To think that Bernadette Cynthia Healy's brother married here. I know I am repeating the same thoughts I had only yesterday, but I am shaken by the experience with Mr Hayworth, more than I'd care to let Keith see, and more certainly than I'd like to admit myself. Why am I looking for the brother of my late-husbands ex-mistress? What am I looking for? Maybe Polly and Jack were right to be cautious and maybe this is a Pandora's box that should be left well-alone.
These thoughts hound me as I leave the garden. I look left, then right before I cross the road, and out of the corner of my eye I glance a wave from Father Thomas. I smile and gesture back, but not before I notice the easily recognisable briefcase from this morning. Mr Hayworth, has managed to clock up just as many miles as I have this morning.
I cross the road as would be expected, and pray that Mr Hayworth hasn't seen the wave between Father Thomas and me. I window shop for houses well out of my price range, or ones that have the potential to be in my price range should I find a certain long-lost brother, and using the window's reflection I watch as Mr Hayworth and Father Thomas enter the same church I had wandered around only the day before.
It is unsettling to watch your footsteps being followed, especially by one so impertinent as Mr Hayworth. I wonder what Jonathon would do, and I have no doubt that he would have waited for the untimely meeting to end, and then have a second conversation with the priest. He would also call Keith and fill him in on the latest information.
