And the last thing.
In that folder, behind the affidavits, there was one page I did not read until the January, because I had assumed it was an instruction to the solicitor.
It is a note in my grandmother’s handwriting, dated the ninth of November, 2022 — the day she signed the trust deed.
Four lines.
Ines — she’ll want to know why I didn’t tell her. Tell her I did tell her, once, in the March of last year, and she said don’t, and she was
entitled to say it. She was in the middle of something.
A person is allowed to be in the middle of something. That is what the rest of us are for.
H.H.
She wrote that twenty-one months before she died, to be read by me at some unknown point in the future, and what she chose to use it for was to let me off.
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