Falling Off The Edge - Part Four

Previously:

In early 1995 my aunt advised me that my adoptive mother, who I hadn't seen for more than fifteen years, had passed away. The next morning I caught the first flight out of London to attend her funeral in Copenhagen.
I left the church after the funeral, when a voice rang out. A thin, mousy haired man shouted at me saying that he was my adoptive mother's lawyer and, as I was adopted before the end of 1954, I was not to inherit anything.
Everything around us went quiet.
I had almost four hours before I had to check in for my flight back to London, and I decided to pursue the matter immediately. I went to one office and was directed to another. I'd just arrived to that office and a friendly woman working there asked how she could help me.

Part Four

I told her as quickly as I could what had happened and the reason why I had been guided to this office. I also explained the urgency to find out whether my adopted parents had made an annotation to my adoption papers, which would be the deciding factor whether I was to inherit from them or not.

She moved her head in a sympathetic nod, her dark curls falling into her eyes. "What a story, and what an appalling behaviour from somebody who claims to be a lawyer! You have definitely come to the right place, and if there is a clause attached to your adoption papers then we'll have a record of it. Have a seat while I pop down to the basement where we keep all the microfilms. It'll take some twenty minutes."

"That is so kind of you," I said, and meant it.

I calculated that it left me two hours and forty-five minutes before I had to be in the airport. Maybe three hours, as I had no luggage, but it was a stretch though.

I eyed the telephone sitting on the counter, and it gave me an idea. In a flash I decided it was worth a try.

"Ahem, just before you leave, I wondered if it would be possible to use the phone to make a couple of calls while you are down there. I promise they won't be long and I will of course reimburse you."

I inclined my head towards the only other person in the office. "Your colleague will be able to judge how much it will be."

I wondered whether I had overstepped my hospitality, but on the other hand, 'he who doesn't dare, doesn't win', or something to that effect sprang to mind.

I needn't have worried. I was met with another friendly smile, and this time from both of them.

"Go ahead, and not to worry about paying. Our pleasure if we can be of help. But I better be going, so we'll have an answer sooner rather than later." And with that she disappeared through the door.

I recognised I was in good hands, and my day brightened up by several degrees.

My plan was to speak to my cousin's husband. Not only were we family, but more importantly, we had become very close friends over the years. Otto, my cousin's husband also happened to be a judge. He had helped me find the perfect lawyer when I needed legal representation with my divorce, and now I could do with another small favour. Otto could provide me with the phone number for the same lawyer. She would be just perfect for the job ahead. As I remembered my cousin's phone number by heart, I didn't hesitate to dial it.

And again I was in luck.

"Oh, hi, Otto, Ulla speaking. You're home?" I said, stating the obvious. "I hope I can ask you a favour, as I'm a bit strapped for time." I fiddled with an imaginary pen.

"Whoa, Ulla, slow down. What's up. And where are you?" I could visualise his puzzled expression, the thick brows raised high above his gentle eyes, and I discerned a gentle chuckle.

I apologised and explained it all in a few words.

"We didn't know that your mother died. Well, had we known we would have told you, but we certainly wouldn't have gone to the service ourselves."

I sighed. "I know Otto, she alienated herself from everybody who mattered, didn't she? I only came because Aunt Grethe told me, and now I'm glad that I did so.

"What I need is the phone number of Mrs Faber. Remember the lawyer you recommended and who helped me with my divorce? I haven't got her number with me, and if it turns out to be a positive answer with regards to my inheritance, I would like to get hold of her before I fly back to London."

Otto laughed. "Oh Ulla, you never live a boring life, do you? Wait a sec, and I'll go find the number for you."

I chuckled. He was right, because it never was boring, but a little less excitement would also do. Never mind, this could be important.

Otto returned as swiftly as promised, and gave me the number. "Phone us the moment you are home and tell us all about it. Can't wait for this little tidbit."

I thanked him and promised that I would, and as I was sending my love to my cousin, I saw the lady emerging from the basement, a broad smile on her friendly face.

I quickly hung up and turned toward her with an expectant look.

"You are OK, You are indeed eligible for inheritance purposes and I have made a copy of your entire adoptions file for you. I gather your next port of call will be a lawyer."

I almost hugged her there and then. To be met with so much help and efficiency was overwhelming.

I still had two and half hours. I grinned and asked whether I could make the second call, and was met with an affirmative nod.

I dialled the lawyer's office and reckoned that with a little luck she would be back from lunch. The question was whether she was in court or tied up with clients.

The phone kept on ringing.

Two hours and twenty-five minutes to go.

A bright voice rang out. "Mrs Faber's Legal office."

To be continued.