said Fran.
Libby nodded. âI wanted to see what heâd say about the will, and find out why heâs so fidgety. I thought Ben might help, so I called him while you were upstairs this morning.â
âLibby, I hate to say this, but it isnât any business of yours.â Fran sat back in her chair and picked up her drink.
Ben leant forward. âLibby only wants to help, Fran. I know she goes about it like a bull in a china shop, but she means well.â
âGee, thanks,â muttered Libby.
âAnd,â continued Ben, âI know I donât know anything about it, but there does seem to be a lot of bother about this will, and the furniture, doesnât there?â
âThe bureau,â said Fran absently, âyes. I wonder why?â
âIf it isnât found,â said Libby, forgetting to be offended, âCharles, as next of kin, will cop the lot.â
âBloody hell, yes.â Fran was startled. âSo why is he so concerned to find it?â
âTo destroy it?â suggested Ben.
âBut what about the original solicitor? Surely eventually heâll get to hear about it?â said Fran.
âYes, donât they post lists of intestates somewhere?â said Libby. âIn a solicitorsâ newsletter, or something?â
Ben screwed up his face. âNot sure, but Iâll ask around. If you donât mind, Fran,â he added hastily.
âNo,â sighed Fran, âI suppose not. I donât know why Iâm bothered, anyway. Itâs nothing to do with me, any more than it is with Libby.â
âShe was your aunt. She might have left you something,â said Ben.
âHardly likely, unless Uncle Frank left me anything, and Iâd have heard by now.â
âDrink up, then. Do you want a sandwich or something?â asked Libby briskly.
âNot really. I think Iâd rather go home. Or, rather,â said Fran going slightly pink, âto your home. If you donât mind.â
Libby looked quickly at Ben. âNo, not at all. Come on, then.â She stood up.
âSorry, am I breaking up a pleasant lunchtime?â
âNo!â said Libby and Ben together, then both looked embarrassed.
âI am, arenât I? Oh, bother.â
âIâve got to get back to the office, Fran,â said Ben gently, âand Lib and I are having dinner at the pub tomorrow, so donât worry about it.â
Fran looked doubtful, but Libby patted her arm and began to move towards the door. Ben gave them both a kiss on the cheek, and disappeared in the direction of his office.
âHeâs gone back to work, then?â said Fran, watching his trim figure walk away.
âOh, yes, but I donât think he does much, now. But youâd know, surely?â
âI havenât worked with him for ages,â said Fran. âIn fact, I havenât had much work at all for ages.â She sighed. âIâm beginning to think Iâd better try and get a shelf stacking job.â
âYou donât own your flat, do you?â
âChance would be a fine thing. When my mother died, after the mortgage had been paid there was hardly anything left, so I ended up renting my little hovel. Which is exorbitant, being London.â
âCouldnât you move â down here, for instance? Wouldnât it be cheaper?â
Fran looked at her in surprise. âIâd never even thought about it. But where would I find a flat in Steeple Martin? Or do you mean Canterbury? Or Nethergate?â
âNethergateâs all holiday lets. There are a few places in Steeple Martin, and quite a lot in Canterbury, because of it being a University town. Why donât you think about it?â
âYes,â said Fran slowly, âitâs worth a thought. I wonder what the children would say?â
âHow often do you see them?â
âHardly at all. Chrissie lives in Sussex and Jeremyâs in
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