Chapter 9: What Diane Had Done
Ryan's phone rang on the drive back to the hotel.
He glanced at the screen and his expression changed.
"It's our solicitor.
Not Aldridge — our family solicitor.
Marcus."
He answered it on speaker.
"Ryan." Marcus's voice was clipped.
"I need you to come in tomorrow morning.
Both of you, if Laura is available."
"What's happened?"
"Your mother has filed a formal challenge to the bequest."
The car was very quiet.
"On what grounds?" Ryan asked.
"She's claiming that Eleanor lacked the mental capacity to make the bequest at the time it was written.
She's also claiming undue influence — that someone pressured Eleanor into making the change when your name was added, Laura."
I stared at the windscreen.
"That's not true," Ryan said.
"I know.
But she's filed it, and it needs to be answered." A pause.
"She retained a solicitor in Glasgow two days ago.
She's been moving quickly."
Two days ago.
The day after we'd met with her at the hotel.
She had sat across from us, listened to Ryan tell her she wanted control rather than what was best for the family, watched Thomas refuse to defend her — and then driven home and called a solicitor.
"She's going to fight this," I said.
"Yes," Marcus said.
"I'm sorry, Laura.
I know this isn't what you needed."
Ryan ended the call.
We drove the rest of the way in silence.
Back at the hotel, Thomas sat with us at the table while Ryan called Marcus back for the details.
I listened.
The challenge was thin — Marcus was clear about that.
Eleanor had been assessed by her own physician six months before the bequest was reconfirmed, and the physician's notes were on record.
The undue influence claim had no named source and no evidence.
But thin didn't mean fast.
It could take months.
"She knows it won't succeed," Thomas said when Ryan hung up.
"Then why?" Ryan asked.
"Because it costs you time and money and stress.
Because it keeps her in the middle of your marriage for as long as possible.
Because it's the only leverage she has left." Thomas's voice was even, but his hands were flat on the table.
"This is what she does, Ryan.
When she can't win, she delays."
Ryan looked at his father.
"How long have you known she was like this?"
Thomas was quiet for a moment.
"Long enough," he said.
"Too long."
"Dad—"
"I made choices I'm not proud of.
I told myself it was manageable.
That she was difficult but not harmful." He looked at me.
"I was wrong.
And I'm sorry, Laura.
Genuinely."
"You stopped her at the reception," I said.
"I should have stopped her years before that."
We sat with that for a moment.
Then Ryan said, "What does she actually want?
If she wins the challenge — which she won't — what does she get?"
"The collection reverts to the general estate," Thomas said.
"Which she controls jointly with me."
"So she gets the pieces."
"Yes."
Ryan stood up.
He walked to the window.
He stood there for a long time.
"I want to offer her something," he said finally.
I looked up.
"Not the collection.
Not any of the pieces.
But I want to offer her a way out of this that doesn't end with a courtroom and a judge reading Eleanor's physician's notes into the record and the whole family knowing exactly what she tried to do." He turned.
"One conversation.
One chance to withdraw the challenge and apologize — properly, not the way she apologized in the bridal room.
And in exchange, we don't pursue the civil action for interfering with the bequest."
Thomas looked at him steadily.
"She may not take it."
"I know." Ryan looked at me.
"But I want to give her the chance.
Because she's still my mother.
And because if she doesn't take it—" He paused.
"Then she's made her choice, and I'll know I gave her every opportunity."
I thought about Eleanor's letter.
*I want you to know that I saw them too.*
"Alright," I said.
"One conversation."
Ryan nodded.
He picked up his phone.
"I'll call her tonight."
But when he dialed, it went straight to voicemail.
He tried twice more.
Nothing.
It was Thomas who found out why, just after nine o'clock that evening, when his own phone rang.
He answered it, listened for thirty seconds, and then set the phone down on the table with a careful, deliberate movement.
"That was Diane's sister," he said.
"Diane is in hospital.
May you like
She collapsed at home this afternoon.
They think it's her heart."
