"We meet together for the reading of the Last Will and Testament of Mrs. Hartwell." The solicitor shook his head and glanced over at me. "I never expected to say that in real life. Throughout my years in law, I've only witnessed that in movies. However, it is the first request Mrs Hartwell made as part of her will. I will miss her humour."

The solicitor shook his head, smiled, and glanced at the papers.

I took Marcus's hand and whispered. "Just like gran to do something quirky to remind us of her."

He squeezed my hand back. "Even in death, she was the centre of attention. I'll miss her." It was really kind of him to say something like that, but whenever grandma May visited there had always been tension between them.

"Miss Evelyn Hartwell, you are the only beneficiary of Mrs. May Hartwell's will and testament after your mother's death. Over the last 6 generations, the oldest surviving female relative has inherited the property."

I nodded. The plan had always been for mum to inherit, not me.

"There is, however, one condition to you receiving the inheritance." I nodded. "By following the instructions in the will precisely, you will receive her estate, including her house and the business within it, all her money, and all personal items, including her jewellery, which she hopes you will find useful."

The conditions are as follows: you will live in the property and run her business, which is currently a bed-and-breakfast, for the next year. You then have complete freedom to do as you wish with it.

"That's how it's always been." I whispered to Marcus. "I know it's not a good time to spend a year in Wales with the wedding to plans, but I really want to live there."

"No, it's terrible timing, especially with the promotion I'm up for at work," he replied. "After my interview in 2 days, we should decide on any decisions that affect both of us."

I had always imagined bringing my family up at Willow Grove. Gran's death just brought the moving date forward. I was sure Marcus would come round to the idea of living in the country. It was just a shock.

The solicitor continued, "You are required to have elevenses with Mrs. Blackwood at least 3 mornings a week." I had no memory of meeting Mrs Blackwook, but I guess she must have been important to gran for her to be here at the will reading.

"Failure to comply with these terms means the people of Llyncroft will inherit Mrs. Hartwell's estate. It will no longer belong to the Hartwell family."

I nodded my head. That was always my understanding. The property was part of the village, and the village didn't like outsiders. "You're happy with that?" Marcus whispered. "She's trying to control you, even though she is dead."

The solicitor ignored him and continued. "I'm sure you are wondering why Mrs. Blackwood is here today. May Hartwell has determined that Mrs. Agnes Blackwood will support you and act as your guide as you come into your inheritance." The solicitor looked down at the papers in front of him. "Mrs. Hartwell wasn't clear on exactly what duties she will perform, but she mentions that Mrs. Blackwood will help you understand your new identity. Strange," he muttered to himself.

The solicitor closed the file in front of him and sat back in his burgundy leather chair. "Handing the key to Mrs. Blackwood and giving Miss Hartwell this letter are my last tasks. These instructions are the final ones in the will."

"That makes no sense. Why give the key to Mrs. Blackwood if the property belongs to Evie?" Marcus demanded.

"I'm not sure of Mrs. Hartwell's reasoning," replied the solicitor, handing me a handwritten letter. I recognised gran's spidery handwriting on the front.

"Just her way of making sure we have to have our first session, I guess, Ducky." said Mrs. Blackwood, laughing and patting Marcus on the arm. He withdrew from her touch.

I wasn't sure what to make of Mrs Blackwood. she was wearing a long, velvet, purple skirt and bright lime green blouse. Her purple rinsed silver hair offset the colours of her clothes, reminding me of a cartoon character. At least she didn't have a walking stick. I learned that elderly ladies with wigs and walking sticks can be the most temperamental clients.

Mrs Blackwell got up to leave. "Well Ducky," said Mrs. Blackwood, addressing me. "I guess it's over to you now. I'll show you the ropes of the bed-and-breakfast, and there are a fair few of those. Then it's over to you."

"Thank you. At least that's something. I never saw myself running a bed-and-breakfast."

"You'll take to it like a duck to water. It's in your blood."

"I guess so." I thought back to my fondest childhood memories of staying at the bed-and-breakfast. It was magical, but running it was something completely different. My expertise lay in landscape gardening, not in hospitality. I preferred my own company, so the idea of having strangers stay in a place I lived felt really weird.

Mrs. Blackwood patted Evelyn on the shoulder. "See you soon, Ducky. I'll have tea ready for you at 11.00 sharp tomorrow morning."

Mrs. Blackwood almost flounced out of the solicitor's office. The old lady moved surprisingly smoothly for someone who must have been in her eighties. I mused if village life made you that sprightly, maybe moving to the country would be worth it.

I picked up my bag and thanked the solicitor before leaving.

"You won't have to live out there," Marcus said as we stepped out into the bright sunlight and bustle of the city streets. "We'll sort something out. Those terms in the will are ridiculous."

That was one thing I loved about Marcus. He assumed control and made things happen. I doubted he could do it this time. Gran's will was clear. "You heard what he said. In order to inherit the house, I must live there for a year."

"I won't leave the city," Marcus declared, striding away before I could reply.

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