The Legacy

"That's easy for you to say, I bet you've been living in the same house with the same wife for a hundred years."

"That's where you are so wrong. I have been living in the same house for the past ten years but not with the same wife, in fact there has been no wife for that long. The house is nothing to write home about but it is comfortable and suits my lifestyle. I have a few friends who I see on a regular basis but there's no woman on the horizon."

"You're not gay are you?"

"No, I'm not gay, just disillusioned when it comes to women, and knowing your situation has done nothing to improve my outlook."

"So you hate women?"

"No, I don't hate women, I'm just not prepared to open my soul to one at this time. Now, I think that we should get down to business. Mr Walton has made certain provisions for you in his will. He has left you a modest sum of money, but more importantly he has left you a house. There is nothing owing on this house and you don't have to pay rent or anything like that. The money, if spent judiciously, should last you for quite a few years. If you wish I can set up an investment account that will guarantee you a reasonable fixed income. Changing to a more realistic lifestyle should allow you to live quite comfortably. What do you think?"

"If you gave me all of the money right now, how much would I get?"

"Enough to keep you in your current lifestyle for six months, probably, certainly no more."

"Okay, give it to me, all of it."

"Are you sure that's what you want?"

"I'm sure, just give me the fucking money so I can get out of this shit box and live again."

He unclipped the cheque from the note that Mr Walton had left that told him that she would do exactly that. He handed it to her and she left, no good-byes, not even a see you later, she just left and he turned his attention to the last file. This one was going to be hard going.

"Please, be seated." She sat opposite him, the worry clearly etched on her once beautiful face. Jennifer Roberts could have been any number of things, an actress was what everyone predicted at school, but she chose Teaching because she loved it. In teaching she found a worthwhile outlet for her acting skills, using them to inject interest into what could have been boring lessons. Then she met her husband Bryan, a fellow teacher just as enthusiastic about his chosen career. Their marriage was a marriage that was the envy of those that knew them, and saw the way that they interacted in every aspect of their lives. And then Bryan was diagnosed with Parkinson's, a degenerative motor neuron disease for which the only outcome is death. "How are you holding up?"

She looked shocked that I should know about her husband. "I have good days and I have bad days, and lately there have been more bad days than good. How did you know about me?"

"Mr Walton had a file on you. I'm sorry to hear about Bryan, it must be hard seeing a once vibrant personality so cruelly crushed like that."

"But I've never heard of this Mr Walton, why is he interested in me?"

"He is interested in what you are doing, where other spouses might have thought about placing their partner in a Nursing Home to die, you have chosen to look after him at home for as long as possible."

"Believe me I've had to give it a great deal of thought, Bryan keeps telling me that it would be best for me to put him in a home, but I don't want to see him become another vegetable just slowly rotting away. Having said that, I'm seriously considering it as an option."

"I know, and I'm not going to do or say anything to dissuade you from the decision you make, I'm not even going to tell you that I personally think it would be a good thing to do. I know that you feel strongly that keeping him at home is the right thing to do, but think of all those students out there who are not gaining the benefits of your considerable teaching skills."

"I miss the kids so much, and that's what is making me swing in that direction. I don't know, I'm torn in two by this decision."

"I have spoken to the Principal of your school and, while she is understanding and compassionate, the Education Department is not, you have two months of your compassionate leave left and then your contract will be cancelled. You have two months to make your decision. Now I can give you a little extra time financially with what you get from Mr Walton's Will, but I cannot influence the Department to hold your position for you indefinitely. Whatever your decision, you will be financially well off."

"Why, why would he do this for me?"

"Mr Walton was watching TV one night, a rare occurrence if I might say, when he saw you being interviewed about Parkinson's and its impact on the family of victims. He was taken by your compassion and your willingness to give up so much for Bryan. He made the decision that he would help, in some way, your situation. He was unable to help medically so he decided on financial assistance for you and to donate money to help research into this debilitating illness."

"I'm glad he was watching TV that night, because I haven't had much support as a result of that interview, it's almost as if people are not interested unless it affects them personally."

"It might seem that way, but let me tell you, it is difficult for people like you to attract contributions, not because people don't want to give, but the competition from other worthy causes is really fierce. There's simply not enough money to go around."

"So where do we go from here?"

"When the final disbursement is made you will have your bequest transferred into your bank account. Don't worry, we have your banking details, don't ask how we got it, but you are the only person that I've told this to, I wouldn't want any of the others to know that information."

"I don't mean to sound pushy, but how soon will you make the decision?"

"In your case the decision has already been made, it is just the actual amount that is uncertain. It won't take long."

"Thank you, you have been very kind and understanding." She stood to leave and Bernard stood with her.

"Jennifer,"

"Jenny, please."

"Jenny, would it be forward of me to say that if you need anything, anything at all, feel free to call me." He handed her his personal card, not his business card. "This is my home number, you can call any time, if I'm not there the machine will pick up the call and I'll get back to you as soon as I can, that's a promise."

"Thank you . . . Bernard, I can call you that, can I?"

"Yes, you may call me that."

"Good-bye Bernard."

Bernard sat at his desk and wondered what had just happened. Here he was, a professional man, undertaking a formal task and he was . . . was he actually flirting with Jenny? He smiled to himself and returned to his files and the job at hand.

The following day he spoke briefly to Roger Bennett, a lawyer representing Simone lePoidevin, who was contemplating suing for the shortfall on the amount that she thought that she was entitled to. "I'm afraid that Ms LePoidevin will be disappointed if she proceeds, you see, if she does we will have no option but to see that she is charge over the theft of the intellectual property of her former employer, we have very strong evidence of that theft and she will not only spend some time in gaol as a result, but her reputation as a designer will be shot to pieces. Her company is about to be taken over by Henri, and she will be out of a job. She is getting sufficient from this estate to be able to live on, if she's careful with her money. If she tries for more she will end up with nothing but a legal bill she won't be able to pay. I suggest that she should reconsider."

"Thank you for that, I will advise her accordingly, the evidence is that strong, is it?"

"Photographic evidence of work done by her while employed for Sarah Millbank becoming the focal point of her first fashion release, I think that will hold up in court, and then there's the employment agreement that clearly stated that all work carried out while in the employ of the company remains the property of that company. She signed that agreement."

A week later Bernard left his office and headed home, in one way satisfied by the outcomes of the interviews and the decisions made as a result of them, although there were some decisions that would not be well received by the recipients, in his letter to each of them he had set out in detail the reason for the decision. Others he was pleased with, Petra would be pleased that she no longer had to worry about funds to run her centre. She had rung the day before to tell him that she and Ben had spoken at length about their feelings for each other and had spent the night together. He had proposed as anticipated, and the relationship had been consummated. The big surprise for her was when he told her that he intended to give her extra funds to expand the centre to provide more professional counselling services for clients and that he would undertake a post-graduate degree in Psychology so that he could become part of the professional side of the Centre management. She told me that, with his experiences as an addict, he would provide a better insight into that aspect of their operation. I chose not to tell her that, at the first sign of Ben relapsing and going back to drugs his financial lifeline would be terminated, she didn't need that sort of pressure on their relationship.

Elizabeth, when she called a week later, told me that she was happier than she had been in years and had taken her work friends away for a weekend break at a holiday resort where she told them of her good fortune and assured them that she would continue working because she valued the relationship she had with them. They had a great time and had a hard time resisting cleaning their rooms before they left.

That left Jenny. The news from her was not good, Bryan's condition had deteriorated to the point where she had no option but to place him in a Nursing Home. She hoped that he would not have to suffer that indignity for too long. As it happened, the deterioration was caused by an aneurism in his brain and he died a couple of days after his admission. Bernard attended the funeral and spoke to her for a long time afterwards. He arranged to send her away on a short vacation but on the second day she rang him at home and told him that she wished to see him.

"Bernard." They sat in the dining room of the hotel that they were both staying in, separate rooms of course, they had reached the coffee and nibbles stage of the meal. "I can't make up my mind about you, on the one hand you are this very formal business type, Lawyer type, who just seems to view anything outside his immediate sphere of interest to be of little to no importance, while on the other hand you are a kind and thoughtful man. You didn't need to come to Bryan's funeral, I didn't expect you there, but not only were you there but you showed a deep compassion and interest in the proceedings, more so than many of our relatives. And talking to you afterwards was a revelation, you never asked a direct question about how I was feeling, or my life with Bryan, you just seemed to steer the conversation to allow me to open up my innermost feelings and let me grieve. Thank you for that."

"It was nothing, I was genuinely concerned about you and how you would handle the situation, after all you loved Bryan deeply. I was envious of your feelings toward him, I've never experienced that."

"You were married once, didn't you feel that with your wife?"

"No, ours was more a marriage of convenience, it was decreed that she and I should get married. Don't get me wrong, I wasn't unhappy, just not happy, there is a difference you know."

"How did it end?"

"She died, she killed herself, at least that's what I believed. The police said that it was an accident, her car ran off the road and hit a tree."

"You don't believe that?"

"No, she never drove without her seatbelt on, but this time she wasn't wearing her seatbelt and died because of that."

"Were there any indications why she should kill herself?"

"I felt that I was to blame at the time, you see I was away at a legal conference when she had a miscarriage. I wasn't there to support her, I had put work ahead of family."

"But you weren't to know that she would miscarry."

"I was actually, you see there had been bleeding on and off for a few days, I was worried but she told me to go anyway. Against my better judgement I went. I've never forgiven myself. The conference wasn't all that important or interesting, so you see it was my fault."

"No it wasn't, you were reluctant to go but she told you to. What else could you have done?"

"I could have stayed at home and supported her."

"Look, we're going round and round in circles here with no resolution in sight. I think that you should try to forget the whole thing and try and get some sleep."

He tried, he read the Gideon Bible for a while (Old Testament of course) but couldn't get interested in it. He turned on the TV but most channels were broadcasting sport of one form or other, or else it was one of the seeming thousands of ubiquitous CSI type police dramas where Forensic experts can take a minute DNA sample from a crime scene and in the space of an hour come up with the person's identity, age, full medical history and, not only time of death to within minutes, but the cause of death. None of this worked, his mind was churning over what was happening. Here he was in the same hotel as a woman that he was developing strong feelings for, and he couldn't understand why.

There was a knock on the door and when he opened it Jenny was there. "I couldn't sleep, I think I am missing love and attention, and need a cuddle, and you are the only person that I know here."

"Come in." He closed the door behind her. "I couldn't sleep either. I couldn't stop thinking about today, how good it was to just sit and talk with you, how easy it is to relax with you. I haven't felt this way for years because I haven't allowed myself to feel this way, to be quite honest, at first I was scared of you because you're a woman."

"I know how you feel. I haven't had a decent conversation with a man, at least a two way conversation, for a long time. It was hard work understanding Bryan when he talked and it was frustrating for him, I could see that he was trying to say something but the mouth just wouldn't co-operate. In the end I stopped trying to understand him."

"I had a similar problem, first it was with Rachel and then with Ben, our son, I just drifted away from both of them because of work. After Rachel's death I placed Ben in the care of a Nanny, it was she that supported him through his childhood and University, then he went off the rails, got into drugs and stuff until he was living rough on the streets."

"That must have been hard for you."

"I tried to reconcile with him but he wasn't interested, he turned his back on me."

"Where is he now, is he still following that lifestyle?"

"No, thankfully, he has met the most amazing woman who has shown him that there was a better life for him, he now works with her and I believe that they are planning to get married soon."

"That sounds great, and do you see him now?"

"Yes, he and I now have a good relationship."

"Bernard, will you do something for me?"

"Yes, certainly, what is it?"

"Will you sit next to me and hold me."

"Do you think . . .?"

"Please." He sat next to her on the sofa and she came into his arms. "That feels so good." She whispered.

"I agree, but should we be doing this?"

"We're not getting any younger you and I. I have this feeling that we will inevitably move on with our relationship, so let's cut to the chase, Bernard, do you feel what I feel about us?"

Bernard took her face in his hands and raised it to his, he kissed her, holding his lips to hers for some time before pulling back far enough to speak. "Does that answer your question?"

Her mouth pushing against his and her tongue forcing its way between his parted lips was answer enough for him. The held each other for some time, content to just hug and kiss, until Bernard released his hold on her. "I would like to do more than this, I would like to . . . ."

"You don't need to tell me what you'd like to do, please, just do it." They parted and Bernard's hands moved to the buttons on her blouse. He was surprised to find that she wasn't wearing a bra. "Once I made up my mind to come to you I didn't have time to put on any superfluous clothing, just enough for decency's sake, you'll find that I'm not wearing any underwear either."

"Would you like to go somewhere more comfortable?"

"Lead the way." In bed they began to explore each other's body, caressing, pausing to concentrate on a part that brought a reaction from the other. Bernard spent quite a lot of time with her breasts, admiring the shape of them, admiring the feel of them and when he sucked on a nipple, admiring the way it hardened under his tongue. Jenny too, had found places of interest, his cock for instance, growing impressively as she stroked it and kissed it. She offered her pussy to his tongue and sighed as it entered her moistness. Her parted legs were an open invitation and he accepted it, sliding his rampant cock into her moist and waiting pussy. "Please, love me, make love to me."

Bernard was slow, his gentle thrusts waking the latent sexuality in both of them until, with a final increase in power and speed he reached his climax, flooding her with his come just as she, her hips thrusting up to meet his lunges, came in step with him."

Bernard rolled off her and took her in his arms. "Would Mr Walton approve of what we have just done?" She asked just before she kissed him.

"Can I let you into a secret?"

"I don't like the sound of this, go on, what is it?"

"There is no Mr Walton."

"What?"

"Well, there is a Mr Walton, but not a person Mr Walton."

"Now you've got me really confused."

"That's the point, confusion. You see Mr Walton is what I call my computer. Hidden away in a storage room attached to my office is a rather large computer server that controls my entire business operations. I give Mr Walton instructions on business matters and he relays those instructions by way of encrypted emails to the company or person involved, and any correspondence from them is sent by similarly encrypted messages. I must admit that the reasoning behind this deception came from my cowardice."

"Cowardice?"

"Yes, you see, when I had to make a decision that impacted negatively on a person or a company, I was able to hide behind the persona of Mr Walton. 'The decision was his', I would tell people. 'I am just his Lawyer doing my job.' That way I could divorce myself from direct responsibility. As time went by I gained the confidence that I could stand by the decision myself, but by then the persona of Mr Walton was so firmly entrenched into the company structure and recognised by the business community world-wide, that I saw no reason to change it. You are the only person that knows my secret, not even Miss Kauffman knows, and she is my closest business associate. I have been working toward the time when I can leave the running of the various companies in the Walton portfolio to the people that are presently running them. I know that I can trust them, and that they will not betray that trust, and I will be able to sit back and enjoy my part-time retirement. My business at present needs me for no more than an hour a day."

"But don't you work as a Lawyer?"

"My position with Kauffman, Greenbaum and Schwartz is now finished, I have resigned from my legal practice and it will be run by Maurice Kauffman and Morton Greenbaum, I was just the Junior Partner in that firm and played a small role in their overall business. The partners are blissfully unaware of Mr Walton."