It wasn’t something that Kelvin wanted to do, but because fatso Karoline had signed for that letter from the lawyers in Callander, he felt obliged to reply to them. Immediately after receiving the letter, he had fully intended to rip Karoline a new one, but he had second thoughts about that when he calmed down. After all, she was the breadwinner, wasn’t she? His only source of income. And he didn’t want her scooting back to Sweden, leaving him high and dry; not at this time.
Before composing the reply, he had sought advice from an old school friend. Although Lanky Lenny was handy for a wee tap now and then and the odd bit of blow, he was generally a useless big cunt. But not on this occasion. Because he worked in a lawyers’ office, Lenny had some valuable insider tips to offer Kelvin. Using phrases in the letter like ingathering his father’s estate and proceeding through confirmation, for example. When Lenny explained what was meant by confirmation, Kelvin had to admit it worried him somewhat. Apparently, he would have to hire a solicitor who would send his father’s Will to the Sheriff who in turn would confirm that the house now belonged to Kelvin officially. The thing was that he would only have to apply for this so-called confirmation if he intended to sell the house. Well, fuck that for a lark. There was no fucking way he was going through those hoops. The house was his by right, his inheritance. And he didn’t need any cunting Sheriff to confirm that.
Earlier that day, he had typed and printed the reply. Now he was reading through the one-page document for the third time – and failing for the third time to notice the typing and grammatical errors it contained:
Before composing the reply, he had sought advice from an old school friend. Although Lanky Lenny was handy for a wee tap now and then and the odd bit of blow, he was generally a useless big cunt. But not on this occasion. Because he worked in a lawyers’ office, Lenny had some valuable insider tips to offer Kelvin. Using phrases in the letter like ingathering his father’s estate and proceeding through confirmation, for example. When Lenny explained what was meant by confirmation, Kelvin had to admit it worried him somewhat. Apparently, he would have to hire a solicitor who would send his father’s Will to the Sheriff who in turn would confirm that the house now belonged to Kelvin officially. The thing was that he would only have to apply for this so-called confirmation if he intended to sell the house. Well, fuck that for a lark. There was no fucking way he was going through those hoops. The house was his by right, his inheritance. And he didn’t need any cunting Sheriff to confirm that.
Earlier that day, he had typed and printed the reply. Now he was reading through the one-page document for the third time – and failing for the third time to notice the typing and grammatical errors it contained:
Iam writing in acknowledgement of your letter dated 3 August, 2015. Iappreciate your
condolences at this most difficult time.
Your letter is the first Iwas made aware of this particular matter and I thank you for the copy enclosed. As Iam sure you understand, it will take me quite some time to ingather and wind up my late father's estate and to proceed through confirmation, this is not a process I have previous experience with. I have been informed that there are currently significant delays involved in advancing the process and it will take some time before Ilearn of the particulars and am able to proceed.
Iwill of course be seeking independent legal advice regarding my late father's estate and either myself or my solicitor will be in touch once the matter can be considered in detail. Iwould certainly appreciate if Mr Gilbey would provide some additional information as to the origins and reasons for the bond as Iwas entirely unaware of it's existence and quite surprised not to be informed or provided a copy when collecting my father's will from his solicitors.
Going forward, as the sole Executor and individual responsible for dealing with my late father's estate you are welcome to continue to write to me directly if you wish. Ithank you in advance for your patience and understanding in resolving this matter.
Satisfied with the letter, he signed it and sat back, smiling. Sweetness and fucking light. That was the approach he had decided on. He had even included his mobile number and his email address at the bottom just to show how helpful he was being. But its real purpose was to buy time for himself to figure out what the fuck to do about the problem. Significant delays in advancing the process – that was pure gold from Lenny. And asking for more information about the Personal Bond – well, that was bound to slow things up quite a bit.
He had had time to think about that Personal Bond, of course. Unfortunately, he was sure it was genuine. His father had signed the fucking thing, hadn’t he? It was no secret to him that his father owed money to his Aunt Abi and her bastard husband. What really surprised him was that the old man had been mug enough to enter into this Bond shit. Abi and Brian didn’t need the fucking money; the cunts were rolling in it. But no doubt the old man did it out of pride. Aye, just pass the debt on to your son, you stupid fucker!
Anyway, it would be interesting to see what fuckface Brian came up with in response to the request for additional information. The cost of Kelly’s funeral was bound to be a big part of what was owed. It must have been about ten years ago now when his nutjob of a wee sister decided to top herself. That was after the old man finally lost it with her and threw her out on her arse. She camped in the garden for a few days. Then she tried to break back into the house when the old man was away working. Kelvin was in the house at the time, going from one window to the next, laughing and gloating as she tried unsuccessfully to prise each one open. She grew angrier with every attempt until she stormed off. The next thing she was found hanging from a tree in the park near where they used to live before the divorce. He remembered feeling a bit guilty about goading her, but, for fuck’s sake, what she did next wasn’t remotely his fault.
His father couldn’t cope with the news, so Abi and Brian stepped in and did everything for him. Identified the body, dealt with the cops, organised the funeral and the reception. Paid for everything, of course. Afterwards, his father just went to pieces. Him and his so-called girlfriend at the time were polishing off at least two bottles of wine each every night. He stopped working and paying the bills and even buying food. Kelvin stayed well out of it, keeping to his bedroom and computer, and fending for himself as best he could. Eventually, four of the old man’s sisters, including Aunt Abi, rallied round to sort him out. Apart from cleaning and decorating the house, they all provided him with some sort of financial assistance, paying off his debts and so on. And his father promised to pay them back out of two insurance policies that were due to mature.
The business about those insurance policies still rankled Kelvin. He should have received something from them. Fuck, as his father’s only living child and loyal son, he expected something. But not a single miserable fucking penny came his way. According to the old man, all the money from them went on paying back his sisters. Kelvin had thought that included Aunt Abi, but maybe not. Maybe the rich bitch declined it. Or maybe there wasn’t enough to repay everyone. And maybe her share was now included in the amount of the Personal Bond. Maybe, maybe, fucking maybe. None of it mattered a toss. The Bond was his father’s debt; not his. And he was fucked if he was going to sell his inheritance to settle it.
He folded the letter and inserted it in the envelope he had already addressed. He would post it on his way down to the woods when he took the dogs out in a wee while. He always enjoyed going down there with the dogs. That pair were so vicious when they came across any other dogs that none would venture near them for fear of having their throats ripped out. Nor would any busybodies come near him to complain about the dogs’ shite not being lifted. Those walks gave him a feeling of complete power. And the space to think. He really needed the latter today. It was time to put the Kelvin brain into gear, to work out a strategy for dealing with this threat to his future.
He had had time to think about that Personal Bond, of course. Unfortunately, he was sure it was genuine. His father had signed the fucking thing, hadn’t he? It was no secret to him that his father owed money to his Aunt Abi and her bastard husband. What really surprised him was that the old man had been mug enough to enter into this Bond shit. Abi and Brian didn’t need the fucking money; the cunts were rolling in it. But no doubt the old man did it out of pride. Aye, just pass the debt on to your son, you stupid fucker!
Anyway, it would be interesting to see what fuckface Brian came up with in response to the request for additional information. The cost of Kelly’s funeral was bound to be a big part of what was owed. It must have been about ten years ago now when his nutjob of a wee sister decided to top herself. That was after the old man finally lost it with her and threw her out on her arse. She camped in the garden for a few days. Then she tried to break back into the house when the old man was away working. Kelvin was in the house at the time, going from one window to the next, laughing and gloating as she tried unsuccessfully to prise each one open. She grew angrier with every attempt until she stormed off. The next thing she was found hanging from a tree in the park near where they used to live before the divorce. He remembered feeling a bit guilty about goading her, but, for fuck’s sake, what she did next wasn’t remotely his fault.
His father couldn’t cope with the news, so Abi and Brian stepped in and did everything for him. Identified the body, dealt with the cops, organised the funeral and the reception. Paid for everything, of course. Afterwards, his father just went to pieces. Him and his so-called girlfriend at the time were polishing off at least two bottles of wine each every night. He stopped working and paying the bills and even buying food. Kelvin stayed well out of it, keeping to his bedroom and computer, and fending for himself as best he could. Eventually, four of the old man’s sisters, including Aunt Abi, rallied round to sort him out. Apart from cleaning and decorating the house, they all provided him with some sort of financial assistance, paying off his debts and so on. And his father promised to pay them back out of two insurance policies that were due to mature.
The business about those insurance policies still rankled Kelvin. He should have received something from them. Fuck, as his father’s only living child and loyal son, he expected something. But not a single miserable fucking penny came his way. According to the old man, all the money from them went on paying back his sisters. Kelvin had thought that included Aunt Abi, but maybe not. Maybe the rich bitch declined it. Or maybe there wasn’t enough to repay everyone. And maybe her share was now included in the amount of the Personal Bond. Maybe, maybe, fucking maybe. None of it mattered a toss. The Bond was his father’s debt; not his. And he was fucked if he was going to sell his inheritance to settle it.
He folded the letter and inserted it in the envelope he had already addressed. He would post it on his way down to the woods when he took the dogs out in a wee while. He always enjoyed going down there with the dogs. That pair were so vicious when they came across any other dogs that none would venture near them for fear of having their throats ripped out. Nor would any busybodies come near him to complain about the dogs’ shite not being lifted. Those walks gave him a feeling of complete power. And the space to think. He really needed the latter today. It was time to put the Kelvin brain into gear, to work out a strategy for dealing with this threat to his future.