While Maureen continued to feed the washing machine and commenced her preparation of our evening meal, I went through to Da's office armed with a strong cup of coffee and looked in his filing cabinet under "W". There was the copy of his Will, as he had promised, the original document being filed with a local law firm. The copy was in an envelope addressed to me and I opened it. The envelope contained just two pages of the Will plus another four pages detailing his investments, with the last valuation being about eight months previous. Finally, there was a note of what funeral and burial arrangements he would prefer, and the location of the family plot, along with a key to his desk sellotaped to the note.
The Will indicated that I would get the house completely and three-quarters of the garage business, plus half the value of the investments. Bobby would get one-quarter of the investments only without any obligation to pay back his earlier outstanding loans. His daughter Rosemary, described more completely as Rosemary Frances Roberta Curran, was to have had one-eighth of the business and one-eighth of the investments. The two women in his life that he loved, my mother and Maureen, were to get one-eighth each of the investments. In addition Maureen would get a one-eighth share of the business. This meant that Maureen would inherit Rosemary's share and total a quarter of the business plus a quarter of the investments, the last element alone adding up to a cool half million or so. My lover Maureen was going to be a wealthy woman, provided the business was in a good state.
But what had really surprised me as soon as I entered the study were the number of framed photos on the desk and all around the walls. Photos of Maureen with Rosemary, or Rosemary on her own as a child and adult, and a grown-up Rosemary in a number of poses with her real father Frank. I was gob-smacked as soon as I saw the grown-up Rosemary, my beautiful half-sister.
As described, the key attached to that funeral arrangement note was indeed to his desk with an instruction to look out a photograph album in the bottom right-hand drawer. I followed his direction and pulled out an album which had been placed on top of a thick folder.
There were photos of Rosemary from an early age through to the beautiful woman who had so recently emerged from her teens. There were pictures from school, holiday outings, some photos including Maureen and a grey-haired solidly-built gentleman who was presumably her "father" Bob, clearly taken from distance by Frank. Below the photo album the thick folder contained letters, Christmas and birthday cards, all addressed to "Daddy". Clearly Frank had been aware of his child from the beginning and in turn Rosemary had been aware of him for what appeared to be about a dozen years.
The only conclusion I could draw from this discovery was that in the last couple of years of his life, Bob must've become aware of his terminal illness and had also noticed Frank watching his family from a distance. Bob the policeman had put two and two together, before actually putting the two of them together, real father and real daughter, keeping their mutual acquaintance a secret from her mother, knowing that Bob was living on borrowed time and Rosemary’s right to know who her natural father was.
Maureen said Bob Curran was a very good man. I had to agree with her, I wished I had gotten a chance to know him as well as my father clearly had, too.
I was going to have to collect Maureen when she reached a convenient break in the kitchen and bring her through to the office. I would have to support her tightly while I showed her the copy of the Will, while she learned that Frank and Bob and Rosemary had been aware of each other for so long. A joint funeral and interment in Da's family plot would, I hoped, be the most appropriate resting place for her Rosemary and our father.
Then I would have to hold my beloved Maureen tightly again as I explained to her how I now knew for certain that Rosemary was named after Rosemary’s Great Aunt and Grandmother, who she was probably even now meeting and getting to know in the afterlife.
Maureen would also need to accept that her Frank and Rosemary were together again in spirit for all eternity, their paths smoothed by that insistent Jesuit priest who died so recently in his coach, which had unfortunately hit and killed a beautiful young nurse hurrying to work, dressed in her uniform but without her nameplate which was secured in her locker.
I would have to squeeze Maureen to me as I convince her how I did indeed meet her lovely daughter, my half-sister, and discover how much both of her fathers loved her. And I would have to comfort my beloved while I showed her the lovingly-made photo album documenting Frank's own devotion to them both.
Finally I would give Maureen that thick folder of letters, Christmas and birthday cards, all lovingly inscribed to "My Daddy" from "your loving daughter, Mary, xxx", before declaring that I would love Maureen always and wanted her to share my life from this point forward and beyond.
THE END
Tony Spencer
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