Biographical Non-Fiction posted April 30, 2016 | Chapters: | ...5 6 -7- 8 |
Running Against Time
A chapter in the book Falling Off The Edge
Falling Off The Edge - Part Seven
by Ulla
Previously:
In early 1995 my aunt learned that my adoptive mother, who I hadn't seen for more than fifteen years, had passed away. My aunt, who was away from home at the time, told my ex-husband, who then passed on the news to me. The next morning I caught the first flight out of London to attend my adoptive mother's funeral in Copenhagen.
I was leaving the church after the service, 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.
I had four hours before my flight back to London, and decided to spend the time checking on my inheritance. I arrived at the second office I'd been directed to and there I was given all the help I needed. It was confimed that I was indeed elegible for inheritance. I was lucky to get an appointment with a family lawyer who had helped me before. The meeting went well and she was interested in taking on the case. She warned me that I would have to return for a meeting some weeks later. I thanked her and rushed to the airport.
Part Seven
Before I knew it the flight touched down at Heathrow Airport, and an hour later I was back home. It was still early evening when I let myself into the quiet house. John, my partner at the time, was away for a few days and I was looking forward to the next few days on my own. Just what I needed.
Bone tired as I was, I decided on a bottle of red wine and poured myself a good measure, bringing my glass out to the kitchen. I opened the door to the fridge and to my relief saw that I was in luck. It was well equipped with food and, while I tossed up a hearty salad, I stuck a loaf of bread in the oven to be heated up.
I took a sip of my wine while I set the table, and a few minutes later I sat down tucking into my simple meal with a relish. It suddenly struck me how hungry I was, and no wonder, as I realised I hadn't eaten since early in the morning. I chuckled when I pondered the day; it had indeed been a bit outside the norm to say the least.
I wished I could phone my aunt and tell her what had happened, but I didn't have a number let alone any other detail of where she was. All I knew was that she was attending some art classes at a school somewhere in Denmark. I was happy for her and admired her zest to learn something new at her grand old age. I would have loved to speak to her though.
In that instant the phone's chilling ring brought me out my reverie. I sighed and thought it had to be John wanting to know how I was doing. I brought my glass over, thankful that I'd eaten my food, but to be honest, I was not in the mood to speak to him. Our relationship had cooled off as of late and, well, I don't know, I suppose I wanted out. We'd been together for six years, but things were not working out any more, and I had a feeling there was somebody else on the scene. Again, I sighed, and picked up the phone.
"Hello, John, how are you doing?" A deep silence was all that greeted me until a timid voice sounded. "Hello, Ulla, is that you?"
I almost spilled all the wine out of my glass.
"Oh, Grethe, I can't believe you're on the phone. The very person I wanted to speak to. How are you and where are you, still at the school? How did you manage to get hold of me? Did Tommy give you my number?"
My ex-husband, Tommy, had told me the night before how my aunt happened to have his number, but had not brought mine with her.
Well, I wasn't surprised really. He lived in Denmark and I had moved over here. I knew my aunt kept separate phone lists.
"Whoa, whoa, Ulla, calm down please. One thing at a time!" I could hear the laughter in her voice, but I was just so glad to hear from her and I had so much to tell.
"So, Ulla, how did it go today?"
"No, first of all, please do tell me how you managed to get my number as you hadn't brought it to the school?"
"Okay, Ulla, I am still at the school, and yes, Tommy gave it to me, so now tell me, will you please?"
I laughed.
"Grethe, you are incorrigible, but thanks to you I've achieved a lot." And I continued to tell her everything that had happened.
When I'd finished the phone was silent.
"Grethe, are you there?"
"Yes ... yes, sorry, I was digesting what you've just told me. A hectic day you've had and how glad I am that I spotted that paper with your adoptive mother's obituary."
"Yeah, you can say that again. That lawyer would have got away with it. Oh, I'm so glad that I could tell you all."
"You're absolutely right, he probably would have. Your adoptive mother was never up to much good; couldn't be trusted. Ulla, I will need to finish soon, as this call is going to cost me a small fortune, but, before I go, do you know when you are going back to Denmark?"
"No, all Mrs Faber said was that it would be some weeks, maybe six, or something like that. I'll just have to be patient."
"Okay, never been your strongest point, but listen, I'm here for another two weeks so we'll speak when I'm back home, and when you do come to Denmark, you'll stay with me so you don't have to rush back to England. Ulla, I'm off for now, so take care."
"Oh, Grethe, same to you. We'll speak soon. So glad we talked tonight. Bye for now, and enjoy the rest of your stay at the school." I hung up with a smile.
The next few weeks passed very quickly, and then one day, the phone call came in that I'd been waiting for. I was summoned to the lawyers' meeting in Copenhagen.
To be continued.
In early 1995 my aunt learned that my adoptive mother, who I hadn't seen for more than fifteen years, had passed away. My aunt, who was away from home at the time, told my ex-husband, who then passed on the news to me. The next morning I caught the first flight out of London to attend my adoptive mother's funeral in Copenhagen.
I was leaving the church after the service, 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.
I had four hours before my flight back to London, and decided to spend the time checking on my inheritance. I arrived at the second office I'd been directed to and there I was given all the help I needed. It was confimed that I was indeed elegible for inheritance. I was lucky to get an appointment with a family lawyer who had helped me before. The meeting went well and she was interested in taking on the case. She warned me that I would have to return for a meeting some weeks later. I thanked her and rushed to the airport.
Part Seven
Before I knew it the flight touched down at Heathrow Airport, and an hour later I was back home. It was still early evening when I let myself into the quiet house. John, my partner at the time, was away for a few days and I was looking forward to the next few days on my own. Just what I needed.
Bone tired as I was, I decided on a bottle of red wine and poured myself a good measure, bringing my glass out to the kitchen. I opened the door to the fridge and to my relief saw that I was in luck. It was well equipped with food and, while I tossed up a hearty salad, I stuck a loaf of bread in the oven to be heated up.
I took a sip of my wine while I set the table, and a few minutes later I sat down tucking into my simple meal with a relish. It suddenly struck me how hungry I was, and no wonder, as I realised I hadn't eaten since early in the morning. I chuckled when I pondered the day; it had indeed been a bit outside the norm to say the least.
I wished I could phone my aunt and tell her what had happened, but I didn't have a number let alone any other detail of where she was. All I knew was that she was attending some art classes at a school somewhere in Denmark. I was happy for her and admired her zest to learn something new at her grand old age. I would have loved to speak to her though.
In that instant the phone's chilling ring brought me out my reverie. I sighed and thought it had to be John wanting to know how I was doing. I brought my glass over, thankful that I'd eaten my food, but to be honest, I was not in the mood to speak to him. Our relationship had cooled off as of late and, well, I don't know, I suppose I wanted out. We'd been together for six years, but things were not working out any more, and I had a feeling there was somebody else on the scene. Again, I sighed, and picked up the phone.
"Hello, John, how are you doing?" A deep silence was all that greeted me until a timid voice sounded. "Hello, Ulla, is that you?"
I almost spilled all the wine out of my glass.
"Oh, Grethe, I can't believe you're on the phone. The very person I wanted to speak to. How are you and where are you, still at the school? How did you manage to get hold of me? Did Tommy give you my number?"
My ex-husband, Tommy, had told me the night before how my aunt happened to have his number, but had not brought mine with her.
Well, I wasn't surprised really. He lived in Denmark and I had moved over here. I knew my aunt kept separate phone lists.
"Whoa, whoa, Ulla, calm down please. One thing at a time!" I could hear the laughter in her voice, but I was just so glad to hear from her and I had so much to tell.
"So, Ulla, how did it go today?"
"No, first of all, please do tell me how you managed to get my number as you hadn't brought it to the school?"
"Okay, Ulla, I am still at the school, and yes, Tommy gave it to me, so now tell me, will you please?"
I laughed.
"Grethe, you are incorrigible, but thanks to you I've achieved a lot." And I continued to tell her everything that had happened.
When I'd finished the phone was silent.
"Grethe, are you there?"
"Yes ... yes, sorry, I was digesting what you've just told me. A hectic day you've had and how glad I am that I spotted that paper with your adoptive mother's obituary."
"Yeah, you can say that again. That lawyer would have got away with it. Oh, I'm so glad that I could tell you all."
"You're absolutely right, he probably would have. Your adoptive mother was never up to much good; couldn't be trusted. Ulla, I will need to finish soon, as this call is going to cost me a small fortune, but, before I go, do you know when you are going back to Denmark?"
"No, all Mrs Faber said was that it would be some weeks, maybe six, or something like that. I'll just have to be patient."
"Okay, never been your strongest point, but listen, I'm here for another two weeks so we'll speak when I'm back home, and when you do come to Denmark, you'll stay with me so you don't have to rush back to England. Ulla, I'm off for now, so take care."
"Oh, Grethe, same to you. We'll speak soon. So glad we talked tonight. Bye for now, and enjoy the rest of your stay at the school." I hung up with a smile.
The next few weeks passed very quickly, and then one day, the phone call came in that I'd been waiting for. I was summoned to the lawyers' meeting in Copenhagen.
To be continued.
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