Free A Grave Inheritance by Anne Renshaw Page A

was in another one of her tempers. Whenever summoned like this it always ended in a row, so David prepared himself for confrontation. He tried not to let it show but he could barely tolerate his sister. She was arrogant, conceited and a bully, but mostly he disliked her flippant attitude towards the church and the vocation he had chosen. Although she was his twin they were nothing alike. Not in disposition or features. The only thing they had in common was their reddish auburn hair. Leonie was money grabbing, and as an estate agent the job suited her personality down to the ground.
    Not bothering to wait for David to reach her, Leonie called out to him, literally shouting: ‘Where have you been, I have been waiting ten minutes.’
    David waited until he stood by her side before answering, trying hard to control his irritation. ‘I can’t just drop everything at your whim, Leonie. I have my work to do.’
    Leonie snorted derisively. ‘Work, how can you call it work? Sitting with old ladies and drinking tea.’
    ‘Today, the old lady happens to be your great aunt, who, just in case you are interested, may not have much time left on this earth.’
    Leonie glared at her bother impatiently. ‘Give me a break. I’ve already had an earful from Lynne Sykes. One thing I am not, dear brother of mine, is a hypocrite. I have no time for Sophia, and you know why. In fact she’s one of the reasons I’m here. Now are you going to let me in or not?’ Leonie stamped her foot impatiently.
    David let out a deep sigh, walked round to the back door and walked through into the kitchen, not waiting to see if Leonie followed him. He fumbled about in the sink washing dishes and then switched the kettle onto boil. ‘Do you want a cup of tea?’ Leonie had wandered through into the living room and he listened for her reply. He could hear her rummaging through his newspaper. ‘I haven’t read that myself yet, Leonie,’ he called.
    Ignoring his hint Leonie continued to skip through the local trivia of events in the latest addition of the Centurion newspaper, scanning through the property adverts listed by her competitors. ‘Haven’t you anything stronger?’ she eventually replied, her voice petulant and demanding.
    David dried some mugs and set them out on a tray. ‘Coffee?’
    ‘Very funny,’ Leonie sniggered sarcastically. ‘I suppose coffee will have to do then, and two spoons of sugar.’
    Yes, you need sweetening up, David thought, stirring in the sugar. He walked into his sitting room and passed Leonie her coffee. ‘So, what is it now, and why all the drama?’ he asked. He took his newspaper out of her hand, hoping she wasn’t about to ask him for more money. It had been a mistake letting Leonie know he had savings. With hardly any overheads, no wife or children to support and no expensive hobbies or holidays, his bank balance had grown considerably over the years. Adding to it the equity from the sale of a small terraced house he’d sold before moving into the vicarage, meant he was financially well off, or had been. That was before Leonie persuaded him to put his savings to good use, her own good use in fact. Three years ago he had lent her ten thousand pounds, supposedly to refurbish her business premises and buy new computers and equipment for her office. Leonie had used the money to pay off her credit cards. What remained she put as a deposit on a new sports car, taking out finance for the balance. A year later she convinced him he would benefit by investing in an Italian overseas housing development. Against his better judgement he was cajoled into handing over twenty-five thousand pounds, and up until now, the sure-fire secure investment had never been mentioned again.
    Leonie remained standing and sipped her coffee. Scowling at the bitter taste, she pointedly placed her mug on top of David’s newspaper, now folded neatly on the coffee table. Exasperated, David shook his head and put the mug onto a coaster, sliding