‘I’ve been to see my st—, er, grandmother. She’s explained to me that I own a share of Ransome & Daughters, but said you have the paperwork. I’d just like to know where I stand. My legal position, if you like.’
There was a knock on the door and Sweetman’s voice boomed in response. The secretary, his wife, came in with a tray. The conversation stopped while she poured coffee and milk, adding two sugars and stirring Sweetman’s mug for him. The mugs were proper fine bone china, Helen noticed, and the coffee the real thing, strong and aromatic. A smile teased in the solicitor’s eyes as he gauged her reaction, and he accepted the mug from his wife without looking up, his eyes still fixed on Helen’s face, like a fighter weighing up his opponent. Mrs Sweetman left as unassumingly as she’d entered.
Leaning back in his chair, Sweetman balanced the mug on his large stomach. ‘It’s simple. You own a percentage of the company, which gives you the right to vote on the board. We keep the share certificates in the safe here, but if you’d rather store them yourself, I can arrange to have them biked to you when I’ve located them.’
Helen thought of the long-fingered Charlie, and decided not to put temptation in her way. ‘It’s fine, you can keep them here.’
Sweetman continued. ‘We also store your grandmother’s share certificates plus her will, but I’ve never had dealings with either of your aunts. Can’t say I’m losing any sleep over that.’
He sipped his coffee, and Helen hid a smile. She didn’t think Letitia would lose sleep over it either. No doubt she had a team of very expensive City lawyers at her fingertips, which befitted her social standing. Ruth too.
It made her wonder why Aggie had chosen this humble practice. It didn’t fit with a person whose doctor was in Harley Street. Her grandmother could afford to hire a service costing four times as much, probably more. Was she trying to become invisible? That never happened to the super-rich. A beggar in the street, yes, but not a person like Aggie.
‘Did you have dealings with my mother?’ she asked.
Sweetman hesitated before answering. ‘Not as such. She was with the same firm of solicitors as your aunt Ruth. I do, however, have a copy of her will.’
‘My mother’s will? But how come you have that if you didn’t represent her?’
‘Your grandmother requested a copy and lodged it with me. She wanted to safeguard your interests, as legal guardian. Anyway, wills are public property once probate has been obtained. As for your share certificates, well, the company didn’t float on the Stock Exchange until after your mother’s death, and Mrs Ransome ensured they were placed with us.’
‘And have my interests been safeguarded, as you put it?’
‘Perfectly.’
‘What about the monthly allowance?’
‘Came out of your inheritance from your mother. The rest was put in trust for you until your twenty-fifth year, which is now.’
‘If the allowance came out of my inheritance, why did Aggie go on pretending the money came from her? It doesn’t make any sense.’
Sweetman put his mug on the desk. ‘There are a lot of things in life which don’t make sense,’ he said, and his previous supercilious manner seemed to have been replaced by kindness of sorts. ‘If I know anything about human nature, I’d say your grandmother did it because she wanted you to feel you had a link with the family. You may have resented it as patronising handouts, but at least it signalled that there was someone who cared, if only from a distance.’
‘But I’m not her relative.’
He shrugged his shoulders. ‘If you want to split hairs, in the eyes of the law you’re not, but people aren’t governed entirely by legalities, are they? We see that time and time again.’
‘Since you’re such an expert on human nature, what governs Aggie, then?’
‘If you really don’t know that, then you’re more stupid than I thought!’ he replied hotly.
Helen glared at him, but his words had found their mark. She fought hard to hang on to her old anger, that familiar feeling, but it was too tiring. Her shoulders slumped.
I’m not ready for this, she thought. She didn’t want to believe Aggie had real feelings for her, only to find out it wasn’t true.
Could she trust Sweetman? He was Aggie’s representative and probably didn’t move a muscle without consulting her. Aggie had broken Helen’s trust before. There was no one she could rely on, apart from herself.
‘How much did my mother leave me?’
Sweetman smiled, the twinkle in his eye telling her he understood she wasn’t in this for the money.