Girl From the Tree House, стр. 48

A medium size, rotund elderly man with a cheerful smile that says I don’t mind eating McDonald’s every day opens the door. He must be spending a lot of time outdoors going by his suntanned skin that stretches over his face like old parchment.

“Mrs. Reid, please come in.”

His office, in tune with the rest of the house, looks like a grandfather’s lounge. He’s grouped comfortable soft armchairs around a fireplace and an enormous, carved writing desk stands in front of the window. My nervousness evaporates. Gone, as if it never existed.

“Your office is not what I expected from a lawyer. You like fishing?” I point to the large picture of a man fly-fishing in a remote river.

“Thank you. I spend so much time here it has to be comfortable. Every time I can steal a few hours away for fishing is a success.” He stares at me before he shakes his head.

“How can I help you? On the phone, you said you needed property ownership transferred?”

“After the death of my husband Horace Reid two weeks ago, I found the deed to Wright’s Homestead, in our family bible. It’s along Flatbush Creek road. It appears it belonged to my mother’s sister. I checked with City Council; it is still in her name. Here is my birth certificate. Could you action transfer of ownership?”

“As long as nobody else is making a claim to that property, it should be a straightforward transfer. I would have to check whether there are other surviving relatives with a claim on the house. Do you have the document on you?”

I pass him the deed and wait, confused by his reaction. He stares at the deed, glances over to me, and then back at the deed.

“How are you related to Amanda Wright?”

“She’s my mother’s sister. I used to spend a lot of time as a child with Auntie Mandy.”

“Amanda Wright. I remember when she passed away; we looked for years for surviving relatives. I never expected someone to show up so late.”

“My parents died two years before she did. By then I lived already with my guardian Horace Reed, who later became my husband.”

“The similarity is astounding. Amanda was a stunning woman and you look just like her. I remember her coming to town with a little girl. That was you, was it? We would need the marriage certificate and a death certificate of your late husband.

“I couldn’t get the marriage certificate. When I applied for it online, this is what I got.” I give Patrick a copy of the email from the government.

“They found no record of our marriage. There must have been a mistake. We married twenty-four years ago.”

“Leave it to me. I will make a thorough search.” He smiled and rubbed his hands. “At last something other than doing land transfers. You are making my day, Mrs. Reid.”

“Please, call me Elise. How long do you think it’ll take?”

“Shouldn’t take me more than a fortnight. I’ll call you once all the documents are ready for you. And you call me Patrick, please.”

“Thank you. I hope we can clear this up. I live already in the house and don’t want the police to evict me for illegal possession.”

“My dear, I’m glad someone lives in Amanda’s place. I knew your aunt back in the day. I even whirled her around the dance floor once. She was a kind, beautiful person. My father was her lawyer. I should still have his files somewhere in storage. Port Somers is a small township. We keep things forever. Nothing gets lost.”

“One day you have to tell me about her. I have very vague memories. Although living in the house, some are coming back to me.”

He looks at his grandfather clock and says, “My next client is here soon. We’ll talk more next time when I’ve got more answers for you. Please, leave your phone number with Heather.”

“I will. Thank you for your time.”

I leave Patrick’s office with a sense of achievement. I found a friendly lawyer. Maybe this is a good place for a new beginning after all? I slip into the van and head home.