The Healing of Broken Souls

Chapter 19

We went to bed in high spirits that Saturday night, incredulous that after all our searching a hemipode should turn up in my own backyard. We agreed there was no need to get up early in the morning to see the Bonnelli's eagles. I was sure they had chicks that must be almost ready to fledge. They'd be permanently hungry so the parent birds would be forced to hunt all day.

I crawled out of bed around eight and stood under a cold shower for ten minutes before shutting myself in my writing room. I'd lain awake most of the night in a confusion of mixed emotions and indecision. The news that my father owned his house and had some cash in the bank meant that at some time in the not-too-distant future, I would come into some money. But Helen needed money in the next few weeks to secure the contract with the cruise company. 

I also wanted my father to stay longer. Would it be too pushy to suggest he live out his last days with me in Spain and sign over all his assets to me now? I decided I couldn't ask him to do that. He'd probably think I was the biggest chiseler on the planet. I would have to find another way to help Helen. Perhaps I could apply for a short-term loan on the strength of my future inheritance. Would a bank consider that?

I went and made some breakfast. My father still wasn't up and about so I took a second cup of coffee back to my writing room and wrestled with the problem some more.

By ten-thirty, I was no further forward and I needed a distraction. I brewed a mug of tea and took it to my father's room. For a few seconds, I thought he was sound asleep, he looked so peaceful and relaxed. And then the reality hit me like a sledgehammer and I sagged onto the bed next to him. I put my cheek close to his partly open mouth and felt the side of his neck for a pulse, but I already knew I'd find nothing.

I picked up his limp hand. I expected it to be icy cold, but it wasn't. He must have passed away quietly minutes before I'd come into the room. If I'd come a little earlier perhaps I could have said goodbye. I could have told him I loved him.

#

I took a few minutes to compose myself before I felt calm enough to call the emergency number. I explained in my best Spanish what had happened. An efficient lady operator said they would send an ambulance with paramedics certified to pronounce death. I gave her my what3words location and hoped the ambulance would make it up my track. Then I sat next to my father, wishing we'd had more time together. 

His dog-eared copy of Birds of Britain and Europe was lying on the bedside table and I picked it up to see if he'd updated it for the hemipode. He hadn't, so I fetched a pencil from my writing room. The least I could do was tick that last bird off for him. My hand was hovering over the page when I noticed a slight scuff mark. I looked closer, then took the book and pressed the open page flat against the window.

"You crafty old rascal," I couldn't help but smile.

Against bright sunlight, I could see where the Andalucian Hemipode had been ticked and dated, and then rubbed out. I could just make out the impression of the word 'Don'. I guessed that meant the Donana National Park in Andalucia. He must have been on one of his twitching holidays. The entire hemipode quest had been a ruse. He'd completed the book years ago.

The paramedics turned up an hour later and took him away. They gave me a business card for a funeral home in Valencia and told me to phone with instructions about what to do with the deceased. I didn't have a clue what to do with my father's body. I didn't know if I should call anyone in England. He'd never mentioned any close friends and I knew he had no family. The only person who might know was Rebecca, and I couldn't call her until Monday morning.

I wanted to call Helen but what could I say to her? I hadn't told her my visitor was my father. In fact, I seemed to recollect telling her that both my parents were dead. If she'd known my father was here she'd have certainly wanted to meet him. I knew she hated being lied to.

I couldn't bear to stay in the house on my own any longer, so I pulled on my hiking boots and walked two miles to the nearest village. I went into the first bar I came to, and got steaming drunk.

#

The headache that greeted me on Monday morning reminded me why I'd given up heavy drinking after I left the Navy. It took a couple of aspirin and my second cold shower in the space of 24 hours to get my brain to function. After I'd eaten something I felt much better and I booted up the computer in my writing room to get Rebecca's phone number from her email. She answered the phone on the first ring and told me she'd just that second got to her desk. I'd forgotten that England was an hour behind Spain. When I told her who I was, and that my father, Robert Lewis, had passed away, she said how sorry she was and asked me if we could have a Zoom meeting in an hour. She had to pull my father's file. She told me she'd also need to see my passport.

An hour later, an email with a Zoom link arrived in my inbox. I joined the meeting and an attractive middle-aged woman appeared on my screen. After the introductions, Rebecca asked me to hold my passport against the screen so she could verify my ID and then said she had a lot to tell me about my father's probate.

"The first thing I need to know is if he left any instructions for his funeral," I interrupted. "I don't know if I should send his body back to England."

"He did leave instructions with us. He said he had no relatives or close friends and wanted a no-fuss cremation, either in Spain or at home."

"You knew he was coming to Spain?"

"When I told him you were living in Spain he said there was a chance he might go there."

"Okay, I'll need to get that organized," I told her, marvelling at how he'd covered all his bases. "What do I do next?"

"You have to email me a copy of his death certificate and then it would be best if you could come to our office to complete all the paperwork. You're the sole inheritor and he has considerable assets."

"He told me he owns his house and has some money in the bank."

"That's correct, but 'some money' is quite an understatement. Just a second. I'll check his accounts."

I heard several mouse clicks as Rebecca looked at a second computer screen off to one side.

"The balance of his accounts currently stands at just under five million pounds sterling."