Eightyoneyearold Ethel, her hair the colour of a stormy sea, sat at a solicitors desk and tapped her feet like a nervous metronome.
What brings you in today?
Im here to draft my will.
Very well.
Please begin, Ethel settled deeper into the worn leather chair and started to dictate.
After my passing, I want my brain sent to the Institute of Neurological Research. If the Institute declines, let them claim it as a donation from Claudia Peters. All my cats, whichever are still alive when I go, are to be given to my friends. If I have no friends left, the cats shall become the property of my son, Thomas. Any books that no one wishes to keep should be donated to the public library, though I strongly recommend at least leafturning through them. Three years ago I forgot which of them contains my savings. I bequeath to my son the right to scatter my ashes on a hill in the Australian Outback
The solicitor sputtered.
Pardon?
In the Australian Outback, in the Outback
Thats a great distance! Why such a complication?
Complications are like a ninetofive job with a onehour lunch breakhe never gets out of it. Hes buried in paperwork. I was the same once. Now I regret it. He still has his whole life ahead. Travel brightens existence; it reshapes a man. Hell never return to the person he was. Let him cross half the globe. Ill watch him try to sit back in his office! He wont be dragged back there by any force. Yet I must help him, show him another way of living. Thats what Ill tend to after Im gone
And I dont want to rot in a backyard. Its far better to fly off to the Outback Hushed a murmur from the solicitor, his lips tightening.
Next, Ethel continued, I want my beloved cat Molly to be cremated with me, as was done in ancient rites Just kidding! Just kidding! Your stern look gave me an idea
To frighten me?
To give me a shake, the old woman smiled.
It worked. Now, what of my belongings? Movable? Immovable?
Ah, the flat and the motorbike go to Thomas. Though I dont own a motorbike yet, Ive enrolled in a course and will buy one soon, so note that as well And my scooter I leave to Stephen Nichols, if hes still breathing. Hes long coveted it. When we rode together he crashed it into a tree, breaking it
When Ethel finally rose, the solicitor called a short break. The image of the bluehaired visitor lingered like a halfremembered dream. He reread the will, rubbed his eyes to be sure it was all real, stared at the towering stack of parchment, then reached for his phone.
Mabel, hello, I was wondering if youd like to get away somewhere? You know, Ive always dreamed of going to Africa
