could hardly agree to this plan as Carrie had partially moved in and we were living as man and wife. It would be a bit awkward if Sue joined us…well, it would be a disaster wouldn’t it? So, we had to have a plan.
We decided, that is, Carrie and I decided the house in North London would have to go. When I suggested this to Sue she readily agreed and, I’m pleased to say, with some enthusiasm, she even said she’d accompany me to the estate agents office in Hendon. That trip quickly realised an offer of £650,000. I encouraged her to accept it. The sooner the cash was in the bank the better.
To be on the safe side, Carrie moved back into the officers’ residential block and I took up sole residence at the cottage, commuting the short distance to the Training Centre every day. This proved to be a good move as one morning, without warning, Sue suddenly turned up in a taxi. She had travelled to Exeter St David’s station from Chester and got the small local Exmouth train to Exton.
I immediately noticed that Sue had lost weight and, most importantly, I could find no evidence of chocolate intake. Disaster loomed! To my surprise, she said she’d like to dine out and that she had already called The Old Red Lion pub in Exeter. Thank heavens she hadn’t called the Well House Inn, for only two days before Carrie and I had dined out there with a few brother officers and their wives. (What a party!)
Suddenly I had an idea. We had to be pro-active in these matters. I met Carrie in the Mess ante-room. It was there that we devised a plan that would free us both with, of course, a little over three million pounds plus a couple of properties. But, we had two major, major, problems. Firstly, Sue was still alive. And secondly the will. How could I possibly change the will without Sue knowing? It was Carrie, (oh clever, clever Carrie), who came up with the solution.
Being in the Services gave me a certain amount of freedom. Sue had decided to return to Chester to conclude the sale of the house. I was able to convince her that I was needed on base. In reality Carrie and I had a week’s leave which we took in Spain. We drove separately to Gatwick: she had booked the flight, the hotel and the hire car on her credit card.
Looking back, I suppose I should have noticed. But I am jumping ahead of myself. We landed at Alicante and drove down to Gandia beach. Our hotel, ‘The Bayren’, overlooked the beach and, being right on the sea front, we could either swim or meander along the promenade and eat out in one of the many sea front restaurants.
We returned looking sun-tanned and perhaps a little too confident. On reflection I should have been more careful: however, for the present, everything went well.
I found Sue back at the cottage and, thankfully, she had not tried to reach me on base. She is well aware of the nature of my work and that I am not ‘on call’ as it were, like civilian workers Down to work: Carrie had done her homework well. I had ‘borrowed’ several samples of Sue’s official letters and Carrie had, by now, perfected my wife’s signature. I certainly could not tell the difference. The original will had been drawn up in Chester by a firm of solicitors by the name of Rankin, Rankin and Constance. I remember Sue telling me that the young lawyer who had prepared the will had been very ill and I know it came as a shock to her when he left the firm soon afterwards. I do believe she was rather attracted to him.
The firm of Alexander, Hayman and Cubit, Solicitors, have an office in a Georgian block of buildings that miraculously escaped the bombing of Plymouth in World War Two. Known as The Crescent, it houses mainly lawyers and architects although recently dentists have somehow crept in. No doubt estate agents will be next.
Our appointment with Mr Hardcastle was set for eleven a.m. He entered his room at eleven on the dot: in fact the tower clock had just begun
We decided, that is, Carrie and I decided the house in North London would have to go. When I suggested this to Sue she readily agreed and, I’m pleased to say, with some enthusiasm, she even said she’d accompany me to the estate agents office in Hendon. That trip quickly realised an offer of £650,000. I encouraged her to accept it. The sooner the cash was in the bank the better.
To be on the safe side, Carrie moved back into the officers’ residential block and I took up sole residence at the cottage, commuting the short distance to the Training Centre every day. This proved to be a good move as one morning, without warning, Sue suddenly turned up in a taxi. She had travelled to Exeter St David’s station from Chester and got the small local Exmouth train to Exton.
I immediately noticed that Sue had lost weight and, most importantly, I could find no evidence of chocolate intake. Disaster loomed! To my surprise, she said she’d like to dine out and that she had already called The Old Red Lion pub in Exeter. Thank heavens she hadn’t called the Well House Inn, for only two days before Carrie and I had dined out there with a few brother officers and their wives. (What a party!)
Suddenly I had an idea. We had to be pro-active in these matters. I met Carrie in the Mess ante-room. It was there that we devised a plan that would free us both with, of course, a little over three million pounds plus a couple of properties. But, we had two major, major, problems. Firstly, Sue was still alive. And secondly the will. How could I possibly change the will without Sue knowing? It was Carrie, (oh clever, clever Carrie), who came up with the solution.
Being in the Services gave me a certain amount of freedom. Sue had decided to return to Chester to conclude the sale of the house. I was able to convince her that I was needed on base. In reality Carrie and I had a week’s leave which we took in Spain. We drove separately to Gatwick: she had booked the flight, the hotel and the hire car on her credit card.
Looking back, I suppose I should have noticed. But I am jumping ahead of myself. We landed at Alicante and drove down to Gandia beach. Our hotel, ‘The Bayren’, overlooked the beach and, being right on the sea front, we could either swim or meander along the promenade and eat out in one of the many sea front restaurants.
We returned looking sun-tanned and perhaps a little too confident. On reflection I should have been more careful: however, for the present, everything went well.
I found Sue back at the cottage and, thankfully, she had not tried to reach me on base. She is well aware of the nature of my work and that I am not ‘on call’ as it were, like civilian workers Down to work: Carrie had done her homework well. I had ‘borrowed’ several samples of Sue’s official letters and Carrie had, by now, perfected my wife’s signature. I certainly could not tell the difference. The original will had been drawn up in Chester by a firm of solicitors by the name of Rankin, Rankin and Constance. I remember Sue telling me that the young lawyer who had prepared the will had been very ill and I know it came as a shock to her when he left the firm soon afterwards. I do believe she was rather attracted to him.
The firm of Alexander, Hayman and Cubit, Solicitors, have an office in a Georgian block of buildings that miraculously escaped the bombing of Plymouth in World War Two. Known as The Crescent, it houses mainly lawyers and architects although recently dentists have somehow crept in. No doubt estate agents will be next.
Our appointment with Mr Hardcastle was set for eleven a.m. He entered his room at eleven on the dot: in fact the tower clock had just begun
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