Sir Henry’s Will
This is the last will and testament of Sir Henry Bancroft.
All beneficiaries will be assembled and this document will be read aloud to them by James Dalrymple, solicitor at law.
I am imagining the scene. Dalrymple behind the mahogany desk in that sombre, book lined office of his, and the five of you, assembled like curious crows, impatient to know the richness of the pickings.
Loretta will manage to look both tragic and sexy in her widow’s weeds. Henry, my eldest, will be as immaculately turned out as ever, as will Eleanor, his charming wife. Thomas, my younger son, will fidget and make inappropriate comments and my daughter Mary will have that disapproving look on her face that she inherited from her mother.
Fifty years ago I sat in that same room and heard my grandfather’s will. He excluded my father, with whom he had quarrelled, left him nothing and left Bancroft Mill to me. Well, I have proved him right! I have transformed that small family business into a thriving international conglomeration. I foresaw the decline of the textile industry and diversified into property, brewing and eventually banking and insurance.
Mr. Dalrymple will now pass around a piece of paper giving an approximate value of the Bancroft estate.
Is everybody happy? Are lips being licked? Are you all ready to start eating each other alive? Good! Because now I’m going to tell you who gets what.
Firstly, Loretta, my beautiful young widow. We were married for less than a year and you managed to be unfaithful on at least five occasions. Oh, don’t bother to deny it. I have irrefutable proof provided by an excellent firm of private detectives. If I hadn’t been told that my illness was terminal I would have divorced you, but that would have proved expensive so when I got the bad news I decided to wait and then cut you out of my will. An action that is legally justifiable not only because of your infidelity but also because of the fact that our union was never consummated. I am leaving you the sum of five thousand pounds so you are not entirely destitute - unless you try to contest this will – in which case you will receive precisely nothing. Now, get out. Dalrymple will not continue reading until you’ve gone.