I really am terribly excited! My husband’s old aunt has just died. Aunt Hilda. She was such a grouchy old bag. I couldn’t stand her. Every Sunday we would have to visit. We didn’t want to get left out of the will, and she was so rich. Unbelievably rich! But goodness! How to ruin a Sunday! In fact, how to ruin an entire week.
I didn’t bother going to the funeral. Why should I? Goodness knows I had visited her often enough. Missing out on her pre-cremation celebration was a pleasure. And then, later that same day, the will was read. Forty three million! Can you imagine? Forty three million! The things I’ll be able to do! In retrospect, it was worth putting up with her blue rinse every Sunday. You’ve no idea the relief now she’s kicked the bucket.
I’m going to start with a new car. And a new house. Not just a house, as you can imagine. More of a manor.
The only thing I have to do, and rather quickly, is to stop my husband from opening his email. He doesn’t open his email that often. I don’t want him to see the message I asked my divorce lawyer to send last week.
Clive’s cousin, Moira, died and left him eleven million.
Moira had lived alone all her life, and to all intents and purposes, Clive was her closest living relative; “closest” in the sense of blood, rather than “closest” in the sense of emotional attachment. Moira was thirteen years younger than Clive and they had never been close.
Moira had quite simply got all her money from her father. Poor old Clive was the nephew and never got a thing. He barely had two pennies to rub together.
And then Moira upped and died.
She upped and died! Upped and died! Silly old Moira upped and died at one o’clock in the morning.
And about time too! Clive had waited to get his hands on her millions for years. And at last! At last!
It was so annoying when two days later the doctor gave Clive his marching orders.
(I won’t be available for responding to comments – or adding comments to your own blogs – over the next day or so. Feel free to continue to have your say here! The stories shall continue to get posted. I shall be back!)
Although Gloria was one of the richest women in the country she didn’t flaunt it. It was family money. She had inherited it. She had grown up rich and was used to being careful with the pennies. She wasn’t a miser by any means; she lived comfortably; in fact, more than comfortably.
Her one regret, at least early in life, was that her wealth prevented her from living a normal life; especially the business of falling in love. Every guy she met she wondered if he was after her money. And then… oh yes! – she fell in love. She never thought it would happen but it did. André! André was the one. He didn’t care about her wealth; he cared about her!
But one day, just before the wedding day, maybe a week or two, she overheard him on the phone.
“Yeah – the marriage is just for a couple of years. Then I should get enough money from the settlement to live a life. It’s a bit like having to endure slowly working your way up the employment ladder, except this will be quicker. And a lot more profitable.”
Gloria was devastated. Devastated! She was wrung out like a rag. Her emotion was overwhelming. She vomited with grief. She didn’t have the energy (she couldn’t help it) to do anything about it.