Exceptional In Hot Pursuit Falling Off The Edge : Falling Off The Edge - Part Three by Ulla

Previously: In early 1995 my aunt advises me that my adoptive mother, who I haven't seen for more than fifteen years, has passed away. The next morning I catch the first flight out of London to attend her funeral in Copenhagen. I'm leaving the church after the funeral, when a voice rings out. A thin, mousy haired man shouts at me saying that he is my adoptive mother's lawyer and, as I was adopted before the end of 1954, I'm not to inherit anything. Everything goes quiet. Part Three I looked him up and down and wondered whether I'd heard him correctly. Had he really said that I was not to inherit anything? Which was fine in itself. I had no problem with that. However, to shout it out in front of everybody else, when we were all leaving the church from what was supposed to have been a religious service, was a whole different matter. I turned towards him doing my best to contain the anger that arose within me. "Excuse me, what did you just say? I'm not sure I quite caught that, and how dare you shout at me!" All I got in response was an aggressive gaze. What was he up to, and what was his game? Just because he'd said he was a lawyer didn't help my confidence at all. He pumped up his narrow chest and challenged me with what could at best be called a defiant look. "I knew your adoptive mother, and for my life I can't understand why you bothered to be here today. There's nothing here for you." So, I'd understood alright. It amazed me what my adoptive mother could have seen in him, let alone the trust she'd apparently bestowed on him. When I thought about it though, knowing her as I did, it didn't surprise me all that much. I didn't bother to answer him, but when I asked for his name, he provided it with a readiness I hadn't quite expected. I threw him an indifferent look, ignoring what he'd said, and proceeded down the stairs. To be honest he was not worth my time. I could feel his small eyes following me as I ran down the steps, and I only hoped that I sent out the right signals of not having a care in the world. I paused for a moment, and noticed that he looked straight at me. It was obvious that I had to act and pretty fast. He was up to something that he thought was worth his while, and it came across that my adoptive mother was playing it with him from her grave. Was he doing it on his own, or had he manipulated her when she was still alive? My vote fell on the latter. Whatever it was, he was out to hurt me, and he had an ulterior motive. Of that I was now convinced. I turned away with what I hoped looked like a shrug and ran down the last steps. With a pang of regret, I realised my dreams of a lovely lunch had just gone out of the window. I hurried along towards the main street, and was lucky to hail a taxi right away. Leaning back in the seat I felt a sudden tiredness come over me, and in my dreamy state of mind, I heard a voice from way back come forward. The voice of my adoptive father rang out to me. "Ulla, your mother and I drew up legal papers to ensure that you'll inherit from us as if we'd given birth to you," and he looked at me with that special smile of his. Ten minutes later I returned to reality, when the taxi pulled up at the address I'd provided. Four and a half hours until I had to check in for my flight back to London. I paid for the taxi, and ran up the stairs. I soon found the desk I wanted, and stated my reason for being there as briefly as I could. I was at the central office that had the registers of all deceased in Denmark. How far back they could go, I had no idea, but it was certainly way beyond the death of my adoptive father. What I hoped they could do, though, was to to tell me whether an annotation had been attached to his death certificate or his will. I explained my predicament and lack of time, and was immediately directed to another address at the other end of Copenhagen. I was assured that they would have a definite answer to my question. I ran out of the building, and threw myself at the first taxi that came my way. This was starting to get interesting. Again, I leaned back in the seat of the cab and closed my eyes for a short time. I thanked the gods that Copenhagen was not that big. Another ten minutes and we were there. I paid, jumped out, and ran up the stairs to yet another office. Three hours and twenty minutes to go. The lady behind the desk watched me with a bemused expression when she observed my, by now, somewhat dishevelled appearance. What's more was that I was out of breath from running up the stairs. She couldn't know my phobia of lifts. "Can I help you at all?" she asked. "I hope so." I looked at her with what I hoped was a pleasant smile. To be continued. Recognized Author Notes Note: In Denmark you cannot disinherit your children. However, as I was adopted before the end of 1954, in principle, I wouldn't inherit from my adoptive parents unless they had made other legal arrangements with the state. So there is no confusion. This is taking place in 1995, eight years prior to finding my birth mother, It's about my adoptive mother and what took place after she died. The flash backs are about her and what happened between us. I hope this will clear up any confusion. Thanks to Angelheart for the use of the artwork.

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