Jude’s brother, Michael, was married with two children and lived just outside Guildford. They met every Christmas at their parents’ house. Although Guildford was an easy train journey from London, Jude had only visited his house a handful of times, for christenings and a housewarming party. Sometimes when he was in London, he would get in touch and they would have lunch or a coffee. Even now he still felt like an older brother to her. She felt that he looked on her being a doctor as something slightly amusing, as if it was a hobby she had taken up, like watercolor painting or horse riding.

When she phoned him, the first part of the conversation was more somber than usual. Michael hadn’t known anything about Jude’s relationship with Liam. He had been doing an internship at the time of the crash. But he had talked to their parents about recent events, and Jude was at least relieved that she didn’t have to tell him the story. He said that he was sorry about Nat but that, to be honest, he had never thought that he was good enough for her. Michael had only met Nat a few times, and Jude had to stop herself from replying angrily. After all, she was about to ask him for a favor.

When she told him about Liam’s will and being made executor, Michael started laughing.

“It’s not actually funny,” Jude said.

“It is actually quite funny. You? Executor of a will? What’s that about?”

“I don’t know.”

“I hope there’s another executor,” he said. “A real one.”

“The other one’s his brother. And I think he knows even less than me, if that’s possible, but he did say he would do most of the work. If you’d just set us on the right track.”

Michael responded with a snort.

“Most of it seems quite simple,” Jude said. “Just odds and ends he wanted to leave to people. But apparently we’re meant to check his finances. I wondered if you could take a look at it.”

“You couldn’t afford me.”

“I’m sorry. It was wrong to ask.”

He laughed. “I was only kidding. No problem. Just send me copies of anything you want me to look at.”

“That’s really good of you.”

“You’d do the same for me.”

“I would. If I could.”

“In fact, I’ve got this pain in my back.”

“Where in your back?”

There was another laugh.

“I was only joking again,” he said jovially. “But seriously. This executor thing. How did it come about?”

“I’ve no idea. His parents contacted me when they saw the will.”

“You mean he didn’t even ask you?”

“No.”

There was a pause. When Michael spoke again, he sounded more serious, more professional.

“That’s weird.”

“I know.”

“Jude, you should talk to a solicitor. You can get out of it if you want.”