Bacchus and Sanderson (Deceased) (6 page)

              As information on the man himself was proving elusive, William chose to imagine his own Ernest Sanderson. The odd thing was, he felt he had been spoken to by Ernest Sanderson, but he wasn’t sure when, nor could he remember who Ernest Sanderson was. The only thing he was sure of was that it had happened since his heart attack. He was certain that Ernest Sanderson needed his help. How he could help, he couldn’t say. Why he should help a man who he had not met, troubled him a little more. The parable of the good Samaritan entered his consciousness for a fleeting moment, although how that related to a man he neither knew or had spoken to he didn’t know. Maybe, whatever he discovered about Ernest would throw a little more light on the man. Remember, he reassured himself: ghosts do not exist.

***

              Gerald Thrasher was average. Average height, athletic build that had begun to run to seed, his hair was a generic brown and he wore a pin striped suit and a loud tie. Not a single distinguishing feature except a tic that caused his left eyelid to spasmodically move of its own volition. Until he spoke. He had a deep rich baritone voice that reverberated around the office dominating everything.

“Sit down Mr Bacchus, tea, coffee?” He boomed. William shook his head, declining.

“No? Well, to business then. The late Ernest Sanderson asked me to be the executor of his estate. In his last will and testament, his principal beneficiary is William Bacchus, vicar. Mother, Angela Bacchus and father,” Thrasher paused while he read a little further and then continued,

”Is not specified, though I’m assuming you have one, ha, ha.” William offered a slight smile, but didn’t respond, leaving the solicitor to fill the awkward silence with more inane chatter.

“I’m presuming that is you. If not we would have to abandon the reading of his will now I’m afraid.”

“Angela Bacchus is my mother,” William confirmed, “I am William Bacchus and I am a vicar. All of those facts are correct. However, I have not heard of Ernest Sanderson and wasn’t aware that Mr Sanderson existed until your letter arrived. I am still at a loss as to why you believe that I might be this gentleman’s benefactor. I’m sure my mother would have mentioned if she had known someone called Sanderson who might one day include me in his will.”

              William eased himself back into the armchair he was in and waited. Gerald Thrasher smiled. A confident smile, without a trace of smugness or superciliousness.

“He said you would say that, when we lunched a few weeks before his sad death.” Mr Thrasher continued.

“Ernest has been keeping an eye on your progress. When your father left home in nineteen seventy-three, you were three months old, Ernest helped your mother find a job, helped with your school fees and ensured that neither of you wanted for anything. When your mother died, as you were finishing your A levels, Ernest added to your mother’s estate to help you continue your education. That was when he began to take a closer interest in your career choices. He was delighted when you achieved a first class honours degree in Economics and equally delighted when you achieved the same result in your second degree, Theology, he had a great love of learning. He has never interfered. He had planned, as part of his seventieth birthday celebrations, to introduce himself. He was unable to do this as he died two weeks after his birthday.“

              Gerald Thrasher pulled a file from a pile on a small table at the side of his desk. Placing it with precision on the desk in front of him, he angled his head to one side and looked at William. If he wanted any more information he would have to ask for it. So, William asked.

“So what happens next? Do I have to do anything else? DNA sample to prove I’m me? Photocopy of my driving license and passport? I’m curious how you can be so confident that William Bacchus is the correct recipient of this bequest and that I am the correct William Bacchus? I’m also surprised that you think my mother knew Mr Sanderson well enough for him to have taken an interest in us. In fact, I’m sure that mother didn’t know him, or are you telling me that you know that he was a family friend I knew nothing about for many years?”

              Opening the folder, Thrasher rifled through the contents until he found the page he was looking for.

“When Ernest was alive, he provided very precise information on your life, education and family. We then traced you to your current parish, obtained photographic proof for Ernest that we had indeed found the right person and have been keeping an occasional eye on you ever since. Your identity has been confirmed beyond reasonable doubt, which is why you are sitting here today. As to whether he knew your mother, you, or any member of your family, I cannot say. In fact, as far as we are aware, he did not. All of his assistance was for his own reasons and was delivered anonymously from when it commenced on your third birthday, until now. I know no more than that. Now have you any further questions before we proceed to the conditions attached to this bequest?”

              Shaking his head, William leant forward to retrieve the piece of paper that had been pushed across the desk toward him. The title written at the top of the page was ‘Immutable Conditions of this Bequest’ at the bottom was a line of dots preceded by the word ‘signed’ and underneath another row of dots preceded by ‘date.’ There were five conditions. William skimmed the list; the conditions were as follows:

Conditions are that:

1.  William Bacchus is bound by the contents of the bequest until he ha
s
fulfilled their requirements.

2.  William Bacchus must use his best endeavours to fulfil the requirements to the exclusion of all else.

3. William Bacchus will be compensated in part at the outset and the remainder will be paid to him at
the successful conclusion.

4.  Confirmation of successful fulfilment of the requirements will be decided by a person named in the bequest. They will be responsible for releasing the remaining portion of the bequest.

5. The bequest covers a matter of a sensitive nature, confirm discretion, in writing.

“I’ve already signed this.” William said, “I thought I was going to see something with a little more detail. I signed your document to arrange an appointment, as an act of faith. I assumed that at the very least, you would be able to explain in a little more detail what these conditions mean and the effect they will have on the bequest. What happens, for instance if I decide not to be bound by the conditions once I know a little more about them?”

              Gerald Thrasher leaned back into his chair and put the fingers of his hands together to form a steeple. Pursing his lips, he touched his chin under his lower lip with the steepled fingers. Shaking his head, he raised his eyes to the ceiling as if calling upon a higher being for guidance or to share the naivety of the person before him. The tic in the corner of his left eye, jerked spasmodically three times before he continued speaking.

“Mr Bacchus. You have signed the conditions. Whatever you did or did not believe is irrelevant. They legally bind you. Please do not be under any misapprehensions; I will hold you to the very letter of these conditions until you have completed your tasks. Shall we continue?” Not waiting for a response, he opened the file again and extracted another sheet of paper. Not looking at William, he began to read from the page in front of him.

“Brief Explanatory Notes to Accompany the Conditions of the Bequest.” He held up the sheet to indicate that they were the explanatory notes.

“Fulfilment of the conditions of the bequest will be considered successful when the independent assessor is satisfied that either the requirements of the bequest have been fulfilled to their satisfaction or it is not practical to continue or it is deemed that it is not possible, at that time, to complete the conditions of the bequest. The best endeavours of the inheritor will be deemed to have been used if they apply themselves to the requirements of the bequest to the exclusion of all other forms of work, family or other commitments, including, but not limited to: holidays, short breaks, sabbaticals, courses and full or part-time education. Illness for short periods would not be considered a breach of the terms of these conditions.”

              Holding his hand up and coughing William interrupted the solicitor’s monologue. When the flow of words ceased and he was sure he had his full attention, he spoke.

“Mr Thrasher, I was hoping that the explanation would be couched in a way that would make them understandable by anyone. Can we dispense with the legalese and use ordinary English, please? Parts one and two seem straightforward and easy to understand. Part three, compensation and part four, confirmation of fulfilment, what has Mr Sanderson to say on those points?”

              Looking flustered and nonplussed by the direction the conversation had taken, Gerald Thrasher sorted his notes until he came upon the relevant sections.

“Compensation. Yes, compensation. Ernest has gifted one hundred thousand pounds, tax free, as recompense for the level of commitment he is asking for, this covers the first year. If the terms of the bequest take longer than a year to fulfil; then a further one hundred thousand pounds will be available to be released and so on until the terms of the bequest are fulfilled. If this were to take longer than five years then you would be released with a further one hundred thousand pounds as compensation for your efforts. In addition, the deeds to the freehold of a bookshop in Sherborne in Dorset, an area you know well I believe. On successful fulfilment of the terms of the bequest, adjudicated by the individual named in the bequest, the sum of fifty million pounds will be released to you along with the title deeds to other properties in both Europe and America.”

              William sat open mouthed, staring across the desk at the solicitor.

“Fifty million pounds. He has left fifty million pounds to a person he had never been introduced to? Why? No, why is irrelevant. I’m not interested I don’t want it. This is ludicrous, an insult. What does Ernest Sanderson want that is so important? His money can’t buy him everything. It can’t buy me.”

              Rising out of his chair, he prepared to leave.

“Thank you for your time Mr Thrasher. I hope you are successful in finding someone else to take over whatever he wanted doing. Perhaps it might be prudent to try to match the task to the person with a little more care on your next attempt. Good bye.”

             
William turned and walked to the door. Grasping the handle, he twisted it and started to pull the door towards himself.

“His money can’t buy him his life either. He’s dead and for whatever reason has nominated you as his successor in whatever quest he was pursuing. He isn’t trying to use his money to buy you or corrupt you. He needs you to perform a service for him and for that service he is willing to pay well; that is all. I have no idea what the tasks are that you have been set. With regret, you need to be aware that Ernest insisted that the shortlist was very short; you. You appear to be intelligent, erudite and thoughtful. The regret constituent of my previous sentence is that you have no choice. As I explained to you earlier, when you queried how flexible the arrangement was, you are legally bound since you signed the original document. Please Mr Bacchus, sit down.”

              William hesitated by the door for a moment. Had one single signature, given to enable him to exercise his curiosity, really left him out of control?

“Mr Bacchus,” the solicito
r’
s hand extended across the desk indicating the seat opposite him,

“Please sit down. I have a couple of other items to cover and after that you can decide if you want to tell me to ‘get stuffed’ and take your chances in court or to show that the faith that Ernest has placed in you was not misguided.”

              William walked back across the office and sat in the seat opposite Gerald Thrasher. Continuing, Thrasher started to read from a sheet of paper in front of him.

“We have covered the compensation clause sufficiently for the moment, now onto the confirmation of fulfilment of the terms of the bequest. This will be dealt with by a person or person named in the bequest. Now, confidentiality. I have been asked to prepare a simple document for your signature confirming you will use your best endeavours to maintain the discretion required by this manner of undertaking.” Thrasher passed a single sheet of paper across to William and indicated where he should sign. William looked at the sheet in front of him and then looked up and stared into Thrasher ey
es
. Without shifting his gaze he tapped the paper in front of him and asked,

“What is in the bequest that would require me to sign a document that confirms that I will try to keep everything detailed in this legacy secret? I have had to sign a legal document before you would even agree to meet with me. When I arrived, I discover that by signing this document, I have committed myself to Ernest Sanderson’s wishes before I know the first thing about them. I have agreed to commit myself; irrespective of any other commitments I might have, for a period of time of which I am not aware.  I have been gifted a vast amount of money, a bookshop and the promise of other properties. However; I have to complete one or more tasks to satisfy the terms of the bequest and release this munificent gift. I am to have access to funds to compensate me while I perform this task or tasks and this sum is very generous. I will be told when I have completed whatever has to be completed and when I can, therefore, resume my former life. Further, I now discover that it is obligatory that I sign a document confirming that I will keep the contents of the bequest as secret as is practicable. All of this I am legally bound to do. Would you describe that as a fair summation of the facts Mr Thrasher?”