She buzzed Mr Baines who came out from the main meeting room.
He gave an over effusive welcome and ushered her into the room. Papers were
strewn all across the solid oak table that had once seated fourteen guests one
particular snowy Festive Season.
“Cuppa?” Mr Baines smiled.
“No thank you. Can we just cut to the chase?”
Mr Baines looked crestfallen. He had been toying with a
treat of a ginger biscuit.
“Very well, “he sighed, “well, here we have the Will…”
Sophie Challerton snatched the document from his hands. Mr Baines
sneered – some people have no sense of decorum.
Sophie scanned the Will. Her eyes widened.
“I’ll have that tea now,” she said, her throat tightening
and her heart racing, her eyes glued to the cream paper.
“Excellent! Biscuit?”
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