AN ESTATE WORSE THAN DEATH
On that grey Monday morning in March a dozen years
ago I was called to my mum’s home, a Guinness trust property, where she had
passed away peacefully in the night.
I sat on her bed holding her hand for a long while
until the doctor came.
While he went through the formalities, I began the
painful task of notifying the rest of the family.
The doctor came down the stairs and expressed his
regrets and offered his condolences then he left, and I continued with the
phone calls until the coroner arrived.
Within half an hour of the coroner visiting
There were ten people queuing outside the estate office
all staking their claim for her house.
Less than an hour after the coroner and my mum’s
body had left the house, I had a visit from the estate manager who did not as
you might imagine offer condolences sympathies or regrets but wanted to know
when the property would be vacated.
Once we had agreed on a date he left, and his
parting shot was “if nobody wants the three piece suite I wouldn’t mind it”
What is the world like?
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