Phrase Writers Group

At every U3A (University of the Third Age) Creative Writing meeting we are given (optional) homework, a subject or phrase to inspire a story or poem.

This week's subject -- Last will and testament

Friends donated their (first) names

WILLIAM'S LEGACY

“And the remainder of the estate, estimated at £2.5 million, is to be disbursed by Mr Heath’s two granddaughters to his various hobbies and other interests. And that concludes the last Will and testament of William Heath”.

Sophie and Louise sadly rose. Their lovely Grandpa was truly no more, living only in their memories. And boy, there were so many, plenty to fill their hearts for ever.

Peter pointedly pushed past them. “All those years working for Heath and all he leaves is that pile of tat”. He stormed out of the solicitor’s office, slamming the door harder than needed.

The ladies had met Grandpa’s accountant several times over the years. Once always cordial, now squashed out.

“What a nasty man” said Sophie. “I hope Grandpa never saw that side of him”.

Louise tried to be understanding. “Maybe Peter has taken his passing badly. They knew each other since school”.

“Maybe” shrugged Sophie.

The solicitor awkwardly smiled. She gave Sophie and Louise the box of memories, copy of the Will, and written authority to spend the money as they saw fit.

The two friends grinned their gratitude, shook hands and decided a visit to their favourite cafe, conveniently close, was needed to plan what came next.

Seated, steaming brews and toasted tea cakes brightening their day, Sophie and Louise looked inside the box. Nicknacks was a better word than tat, they decided.

A red chess piece, orange screwdriver, yellow pencil sharpener...

“All the colours of the rainbow” said Sophie. “There’s more to this than meets the eye. Let’s play along with Grandpa”.

Louise agreed. “Legend has a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. Let’s toast our adventure with this lovely golden tea”.

They clinked cups.

Their waitress approached. “We heard about Mr Heath. He was a lovely man. Always gave something for the monthly Games nights. Why don’t you join in this week?”

She left a flyer with the details.

“Board games” mused Louise, “Haven’t played Mousetrap or Cluedo since forever. Or Chess...”

The pals looked at each other.

“That’s what Grandpa is doing” said Sophie. “Each nicknack is one of his interests. Let’s make notes”.

They finished their refreshments, left a larger than usual tip and carried on down the high street.

The local theatre was advertising for volunteers. Their annual pantomime was the stuff of legend, and regular plays, often humorous, enjoyed by many.

The girls walked in. The theatre manager saw them. “We were so sorry to hear about Mr Heath. He loved visiting us with you, and our company treasured his. He sometimes helped with set building the productions he helped sponsor. Truly an Angel to our theatre”.

The friends listened to new memories and noted the manager’s name.

“That explains the orange screwdriver” said Louise, when they left. “What’s next? Ah, Crafty Crafts”.

They loved the Crafts shop, spent time thinking up projects for the latest gadget. The owner hugged them, tearfully remembering their Grandpa.

“He was private in his giving and very generous. Our Children’s Hospital was grateful for the monthly drawing workshops. Paint got everywhere, easily cleaned up. Cheerful children, some with terminal conditions”.

Sophie noted the yellow pencil sharpener with a slightly chewed rubber.

Off to the next destination. Their “Christmas Shop”, full of fun, festive fare all year long. But different music from around the world. The ladies learned a lot, such variety.

They saw their purple decoration in the shop window, and went in.

Mr Christmas sadly beamed. “My sympathies for your loss. Mr Heath was our friend too. He rightly played Father Christmas every year at the theatre, giving presents to one and all. Nothing expensive, just useful. Like our green diary. We’ll carry on his tradition, somehow”.

The girls waved goodbye.

The community radio station was open. Grandpa encouraged them to listen, and they sent in news and events to be read out.

“Come in come in” said their favourite presenter. Actually all were favourites.

“It’s sad for us all” she said. “Mr Heath had time for everyone. Never watched the clock, let his phone go to voice mail. He helped with our annual Fun Day, judging the fancy dress. His crazy blue socks emblazoned with cartoon characters, colour-coordinated with the sky. More than helping with our running costs”.

The presenter shook her head. “We’ll cope this year ... I hope”.

The notes were way past one page and going strong.

“Wow” said Louise. “Grandpa had such a busy life, but always had time for us. I wonder what’s next?”

The mobile library was. Very popular at local villages, schools, clubs and retirement homes, Children’s hospital, and people generally. The librarian recognised two regular customers.

“Hello Louise, hello Sophie. Oh my dears I’m sorry. Mr Heath was loved by so many. And quietly did so much. I only had to mention our minibus was straining with all the books, CDs and DVDs, and he organised a larger one. DVDs have proved very popular. We’ve bought extra copies of indigo special edition Buffy the Vampire Slayer box set. Ah well, Mr Heath has left such a legacy, bless him”.

Somewhat tearful the soulmates continued to the pub, aptly named ‘End of the rainbow’.

“Over here” a cheerful voice called as they went in.

“Peter?” said a surprised Sophie.

“Mr Heath’s confidant and close friend. And accountant. I’ve got a tab on the bar, and some pizzas ordered for when you arrive. William said how much you love them”.

Bewildered buddies bumped down.

“So how did you do with William’s memories? I helped him choose them”.

Sophie handed over the notes.

“That’s exactly right. A full life, with his family and friends old and new. You can continue sponsoring all these events. We can invest the rest, interest keeping the legacy going. Some business buddies have offered to chip in. Now, as expected you two have done so well. What’s your favourite memory today?”

Sophie and Louise looked at each other and nodded.

“We’ve found the gold, here Peter, at ‘The end of the rainbow’. You”