‘She told me that she thought I didn’t have the fight for taking her on.’
‘Does she expect you to roll over and accept it?’ asked Rachel incredulously.
‘She has a point. I’m drained, empty. I can’t even cry any more because it feels as if there is nothing left inside me.’
‘She can’t do it,’ said Rachel, suddenly feeling united with her sister against a common enemy. ‘On what grounds does she plan to make the challenge?’
‘Mental incapacity. Testamentary promise, I don’t know . . .’
‘She’s got no chance,’ scoffed Rachel.
‘Her expensive lawyers think otherwise.’
Rachel’s mind was whirling. The beauty of being a journalist was that you got to know a little about a lot. Probate law was not a particular area of expertise, but she knew enough to try and reassure Diana.
‘Honestly, the courts won’t accept it. I don’t see how Elizabeth can win.’
Diana regarded her sceptically. ‘You know what’s it’s like. If she’s got enough of a claim to take this to court, they’ll run circles around us, grind us down. But I can’t let her, Rach. Julian loved Charlie, his will proved that, and Charlie equally wants to make his dad proud . . .’
The two women fell silent. Usually Rachel would enjoy an evening like this: the sight of rollerbladers speeding through the park, couples lounging on the grass, teenagers shrieking and laughing as they played frisbee. But tonight she hardly noticed them.
‘What should I do?’ said Diana finally.
‘You get a good lawyer.’
Diana looked at her sister carefully. ‘The reason why you are so smart is that you know the best way isn’t always the right way to do things.’
Rachel knew what her sister was implying.
‘Yeah, and it almost got me sent to jail,’ she said cynically.
‘But if you didn’t want to fight Elizabeth in the courts, what would you do?’ pressed Diana.
‘Do you really think I’m a criminal mastermind?’
They stopped to buy ice creams from a vendor who looked as if he was about to pack up and go home.
‘I think you’re smart and brilliant and resourceful,’ continued Diana. ‘I’d always want you in my corner even if you weren’t my sister.’
Rachel gave a slow, grateful smile. She peeled the lid off her ice cream and beckoned Diana to come and sit on a bench beside her.
‘If Julian didn’t commit suicide, then he wasn’t depressed,’ said Rachel thinking out loud. ‘And if he wasn’t depressed, the Denvers have no chance of challenging his will under mental competence. That’s as far as my thinking goes without speaking to a lawyer.’
‘What do you mean, not suicide?’ There was a spark of something in Diana’s eyes. Fear? Hope? Rachel reminded herself that she had to tread carefully. There was no more margin for error, no room for mistakes.
‘Maybe it was an accident.’
‘You don’t have to be kind,’ said Diana suspiciously.
‘It’s not unheard of. Has anyone considered whether it could have been an auto-erotic accident?’
‘You mean kinky stuff?’
Rachel knew she was clutching at straws, but she had to give her sister some hope, even if it was just for one night.
‘The coroner’s official is coming round tomorrow. He wants to speak to me.’
‘Then you should ask him about it.’