Happy New Year! I hope this year will be better and that everyone's doing ok. To kick-off, 2021, I decided to post a new fic which I started working on last month, so enjoy!
John Smith paced through the busy streets of London in a hurry. He produced his pocket watch and checked the time. Five minutes to spare.
He grumbled under his breath, wondering why on earth he had agreed to go to the meeting in the first place. He couldn't care less about it and yet here he was, making his way to his late uncle's townhouse.
John stopped dead in his tracks when a speeding carriage nearly collided with him.
A second later, the door swung open and he was greeted by the sight of his sister.
"I'm surprised to see you here."
"He insisted in the letter that I come," John replied before gesturing her to enter the house first.
He recalled spending a significant part of his youth in the townhouse. John looked around the hallway as he took off his coat and handed it to the servant. The last time he was here was around two years ago and the house hasn't changed all that much.
"Mr Moffatt is waiting for you in the study."
Missy Smith did not utter a single word nor acknowledge the long-time servant as she quickly made her way to the study.
"I'm guessing she's in another one of her mood swings."
"When is she not, Palmer," John sighed as he reluctantly followed his sister.
"Ms Smtih, Dr Smith," a man in a grey suit greeted as he was opening his briefcase. "So glad you could make it."
"Enough dilly-dallies," Missy grunted as she sat down on one of the leather armchairs, waiting for her uncle's fortunes to be transferred over to her. "Just skip all the boring bits."
Mr Moffatt pursed his lips before letting out a defeated sigh. This wasn't the first time he had seen such a scene and it certainly wouldn't be the last. He produced a letter. "Luckily for all of us, the will written by your late uncle is a short one."
Missy crossed her arms, scowling as she impatiently tapped her foot.
"I shall, as Missy said, 'skip all the boring bits'," the lawyer put on a pair of spectacles before unfolding the letter. He cleared his throat. "All my assets, liquid and otherwise, I leave it to my nephew, John Smith."
Missy frowned, her arms dropping while John raised both his eyebrows.
"My estate in both Edinburgh and York, I leave it to my nephew, John Smith."
"My shipping company, Archie & Co., I leave it to John Smith."
The younger of the siblings dropped her mouth. She had expected one of the estates to go to her.
"As for my home in London, I leave it to my nephew, John Smith," Mr Moffatt continued.
John ran a hand through his silver curls, wondering what on earth was going on. Never did he expect to inherit all of his uncle's wealth.
"Finally," Mr Moffatt continued. "For my niece, Missy Smith."
Missy's face lit up at the mention of her name, feeling a glimmer of hope rise up in her chest.
"This 'wrinkled old prune' leaves you with nothing."
Her face immediately dropped.
Both men stared at her, waiting for hell to break loose.
There was nothing but silence for the next few seconds before she erupted in a fit of rage, demanding the lawyer to hand over the will so she could read it herself while also announcing that there had to be an error in the will.
John, on the other hand, was too shocked to acknowledge the commotion. Why on earth would his uncle leave everything to him? It didn't make sense since the man was clearly fonder of his sister. Well, to his knowledge, it was. They must have had a falling out.
"This is fake!"
John snapped out of his thoughts. "Missy, calm down."
"Oh, shut it, dear brother," she sneered. "You've practically inherited everything from him!"
"Missy," he began, trying to reason with her.
She stormed out of the study, declaring that the letter was a fraud and that she will get to the bottom of the issue.
The doors slammed with a loud bang and John turned to face the lawyer.
"Well, I suppose with her gone, it's safe to hand this to you," Mr Moffatt said as he handed the physician a sealed envelope.
John studied it carefully. There was only his name written at the front. "What is this?"
Mr Moffatt shook his head. "The contents are for your eyes only, according to the will."
He pondered what his uncle could have written before lifting his head. "Thank you."
"Always a pleasure dealing with you and your late uncle," the lawyer replied.
John sighed. "I suppose we'll be meeting again soon."
"Oh, most definitely, judging by how your sister reacted," the older man laughed before collecting his belongings. "I bid you a good day, Dr Smith."
Without another word, the lawyer left and John was left to himself in the study room, in the very house which now belongs to him. There were so many things he had to think about now. What will he do in such a big house? Missy, his cosy flat and not to mention his uncle's company. He doesn't know a single thing about business and has no interest in it.
"Master John," a voice from behind him snapped him out of his thoughts.
"Yes, Palmer?"
"Shall your room be prepared?"
He considered the option. "I won't be staying for long," he said. "There's a patient I need to see in an hour."
"Very well, sir."
Then again, he would have to come back at some point – sooner rather than later as he is now the master of the house. "On second thought, just prepare it in case."
The elderly man nodded.
"And Palmer."
"Sir?"
"Stop calling me 'sir'," John complained. He had known most of the servants in the household all his life and it was strange being referred to as such.
"Very well, Master John," Palmer murmured with a smile.
"The nerve of that rotting old man!" Missy hissed as she discarded a copy of the will into the fireplace.
She watched as the fire engulfed the piece of paper. She had hoped to at least inherit one of the estates from her dear old uncle, but it seemed he left her with nothing. Nothing. How on earth is she going to pay her mounting debts now?
Missy paced back and forth, racking her brain for some sort of plan, anything. She was getting desperate. What option did she have left?
Suddenly, she stopped dead in her tracks. An idea popped inside her head. "No, that's ridiculous," she mumbled, though the more she considered the idea, the more convinced she was that it would work.
She could always ask to borrow money, but then he would likely brush her off. Their sibling bond isn't what she would call a close one. More like frosty. They always had a love-hate relationship and barely got along.
Though, it wouldn't hurt to pay him a visit and try to sweet-talk him into sharing some of that wealth.
And that was exactly what Missy did later that evening. She patiently waited in the carriage, which was parked right across the street from her brother's flat, observing the passerby. She knew that he would return home from his dutiful duties as a doctor at any moment.
"I'm guessing you're not here to say hi," her brother said from the other side of the window. He was exhausted and the last thing he wanted to deal with is his sister who has shown up for one obvious reason only.
Missy forced a smile. "Would it kill you to be nice to me for once?" she mumbled before stepping out.
The two siblings barely exchanged any words as John entered his flat with his sister following suit.
"Still hasn't changed since the last time I was here."
John set his bag on the armchair before turning around to face her.
Missy's eyes scanned the tiny living room. She was never fond of the place from the very beginning. Everything just seemed old and shabby.
"If this is about Uncle Archie's will, then I can assure you that I have yet to inherit anything," he explained. "I haven't signed the papers yet."
Missy's eyes lit up. "You haven't?"
He eyed her carefully, remembering the letter he had received and read the previous day. "Two-thousand pounds."
"It was mostly because my home was under major renovations."
"More so of you being reckless with money," John snapped. "How did you burn two-thousand pounds in half a year?!"
Missy rolled her eyes. First her late uncle and now her brother.
"What have you been up to?"
Missy glared at her brother. The initial idea she came up with becoming clearer than ever. "Oh, you know, clothes, jewellery and not to mention, debts."
That was all it took for John to understand her situation. She was never wise about her spending habits. Always acted on impulse.
"You have a problem, and you need to fix it."
"Once I get a bit of help."
John sighed in defeat. "I can't do that since it's part of the will," he revealed. "I'm not allowed to transfer anything to you unless you can prove to Moffatt that you are financially independent for the next four months."
Missy frowned. How utterly unbelievable. She has payments to make and this is how her family treats her in her time of need? Ridiculous. She had no intention of changing her lifestyle. "You're as bad as him."
"Believe me, I wish I could help you, but my hands are tied."
With a huff, she stormed out of the flat, vowing to get what she saw was rightfully hers.
Johnncould only watch his sister leave, knowing all too well that it was pointless to talk to her when she was angry.
The morning after the discussion with his sister was a fairly mundane one. He visited several of his patients, went to the chemist and then came home. He had pushed the meeting with Moffatt a few days back as he still needed a bit of time to process everything.
Peace did not last long in his flat when a woman came knocking at his door frantically, begging him to help her son who had fallen ill.
The poor boy had come down with a fever and he assured the mother that all would be fine for as long as medication was taken and that he received proper rest.
It was around four in the evening when he had wrapped things up. The skies were already dark and oil lamps lit the almost empty streets.
John adjusted his hat before striding in the direction of his home.
Halfway through the journey, he felt a pair of eyes watching him. He was sure that there was at least one person tailing him and he whirled around to nothing.
He looked around, scanning every corner to make sure that his imagination wasn't going wild before he continued walking.
"Dr Smith," a deep voice said.
John turned around and ducked just in time as a fist shot past him. The assailant attempted another punch, but John was quicker and hit him with his bag, causing the man to stumble backwards.
John turned the other way, thinking that he was safe, but it was too late when he realised that another man was closing in on him and delivered a blow to his head with a brick.
He tumbled to the pavement, feeling dizzy, staring at the assailants before losing consciousness.