‘Oh yes. Yes, it would. You see, what happened was, we were in the South of France in the summer, when Jacqui and Marius were out there …’
‘At Sainte-Maxime…’
‘Yes. Marius’ villa. Lovely spot…’
‘Oh, lovely…’
‘And suddenly, one night, after Jacqui had gone to bed, Marius suddenly said he was going to make a new will, and there was someone on holiday down there who was a solicitor-’
‘Not his usual one?’ Charles managed to slip in.
‘Oh no, not dear Harold,’ said Bartlemas.
‘No, not Harold,’ echoed O’Rourke. ‘This was a rather sweet young man Marius found in a casino…’
‘And anyway, Marius said this boy was coming over and he was going to draw up a new will, and would we witness it?…’
‘So of course we said yes…’
‘Well, we were so intrigued. It was so exciting…’
‘And we’ve got it with us, and we were just about to show it to Jacqui when you arrived.’
‘Look,’ said Bartlemas, and, with a flourish, produced a sealed envelope from his inside pocket. At this gesture both he and O’Rourke burst out into riotous giggles. ‘I’m sorry,’ said O’Rourke when they had calmed down, ‘it’s just that that was the gesture Edmund Kean is supposed to have used on the “Is this a dagger?” speech in Macbeth at the New Theatre Royal, Drury Lane, in 1823.’
‘Oh,’ said Charles, as Bartlemas and O’Rourke went into new paroxysms of laughter. Again it took a little while for them to calm down and when they had, Bartlemas, with mock solemnity, handed the envelope to Jacqui. ‘Of course,’ he said conspiratorially, ‘we know what’s in it, don’t we, O’Rourke?’
‘Oh yes, Bartlemas.’ They both sat back with smug smiles on their faces and looked at Jacqui, like favourite uncles watching a child unwrap their Christmas present.
Jacqui opened the envelope, pulled out a document and looked at the sheet for some long time. Then she looked up, perplexed. ‘It’s all in funny English.’
‘That’s because it’s a legal document,’ said Charles. ‘They are always incomprehensible. It’s a point of honour among lawyers never to be understood.’
‘You read it, and tell me what it means.’ Jacqui handed the document over.
‘We could tell you what’s in it,’ said Bartlemas.
‘Yes, but we won’t,’ said O’Rourke coyly.
Charles read the will.
I, MARIUS LADISLAS STENIATOWSKI, commonly known as MARIUS STEEN, and hereinafter referred to as such, of 173, Orme Gardens, London, W2 and ‘Rivalon’, Streatley-on-Thames in the County of Berkshire, Theatrical Impresario, HEREBY REVOKE all wills and testamentary documents heretofore made by me AND DECLARE this to be my LAST WILL
1. I APPOINT WILLIAM DOUGLAS D’ABERNON BARTLEMAS and KEVIN CORNELIUS O’ROURKE to be jointly the Executors of this my WILL
2. In the event of my dying before remarriage, I DEVISE and BEQUEATH all of my real and personal estate whatsoever and wheresoever not already disposed of as to my freeholds in fee simple and as to my personal estate absolutely to the issue of my union with JACQUELINE MYRTLE MITCHELL, the property to be held in trust for the said issue, the trust allowing a monthly sum of not less than FIVE HUNDRED POUNDS to the said JACQUELINE MYRTLE MITCHELL to pay for the upbringing of the said issue, this arrangement to cease on his or her attaining the age of twenty-one years, whereupon a quarter of the remaining estate-whether in freehold property, stocks, shares or chattels shall be granted in perpetuity to the said JACQUELINE MYRTLE MITCHELL, and the remainder to be granted to the said issue. In the event of the said JACQUELINE MYRTLE MITCHELL dying before the child attains twenty-one years, all of the estate shall devolve upon the said child and be held for him or her in trust, as my executors and their appointees shall devise.
IN WITNESS whereof I the said MARIUS STEEN the Testator have to this my LAST WILL set my hand this fifteenth day of October One Thousand Nine Hundred and Seventy-Three.
SIGNED AND ACKNOWLEDGED by the above-named MARIUS STEEN the Testator as and for his LAST WILL in the presence of us both present at the same time who at his request in his presence and in the presence of each other have hereunto subscribed our names as witnesses:
William Bartlemas
17, Ideal Road,
Islington
Keanophile
Kevin O’Rourke
17, Ideal Road,
Islington
Macreadophile
Jacqui was looking at him eagerly. Obviously she had understood the gist of the will and just wanted confirmation. Charles grinned. ‘Basically you’ll be all right. You can afford to have that baby.’
‘What, and the baby’ll get everything?’
‘Not exactly, no.’ And Charles explained briefly about the gift inter vivos to Nigel. ‘So what we’re talking about is only 25 per cent of Marius Steen’s assets other than the houses. Mind you, it’s still more money than you’ve ever seen in your life.’
Bartlemas and O’Rourke had been silent too long and burst again into stereo action.
‘Ooh,’ said Bartlemas, ‘fancy all that going to little Arsehole
…’
‘Who?’
‘Nigel,’ said O’Rourke patronisingly. ‘Everyone calls him little Arsehole. Why on earth would Marius make all that over to him?’
‘It’s the family thing, isn’t it,’ said Bartlemas. ‘Marius always wanted to found a dynasty.’
‘But I thought he and Nigel didn’t get on.’ Charles was still rather puzzled by the whole gift business.
‘Well, it varied, didn’t it, O’Rourke?’
‘Oh yes, up and down all the time…’
‘I remember, there was a time when Nigel ran off to America…’
‘With some woman, ghastly actress…’
‘But ghastly. Marius was awfully upset. Nigel stayed away for two, three years…’
‘All of that, Bartlemas, all of that. Then he came crawling back
…’
‘Tail between his legs. Woman had left him…’
‘Who could blame her? Marius really did the prodigal son bit
…’
‘Oh yes, you couldn’t move in Orme Gardens for fatted calf. All the great reconciliation, my son, my son…’
‘It’s the Jewish character, you know. Love of the family. Terribly important to them.’
‘You’re right, O’Rourke. That’s what it is.’ This was pronounced with finality and followed by a breath pause. Charles, who was beginning to understand the technique of conversation with Bartlemas and O’Rourke, leapt in. ‘When was it this reconciliation took place?’
‘About five or six years ago,’ said Bartlemas.
‘Ah, that figures. It must have been then, in a final flush of family feeling, that he made everything over to Nigel.’
‘Yes.’
‘And, so far as one can tell, he regretted it ever after.’
‘Yes,’ said O’Rourke. There was a pause. ‘Jacqui,’ said Charles. ‘I didn’t know your middle name was Myrtle.’
