Mr. Percy was seated directly in front of Harold and adjacent to Dassie. In front of Dassie was Harold's wife, Liliana. The two had arrived just as everyone was embarking their carriages to go to the funeral procession.
The ceremony itself had been a very short one and the church wasn't overflowing with affiliates, seeing as Clarissa had lived an isolated life. She chose to solely interact with a few close friends and family members. She wasn't one for meeting strangers. Dassie was overflowing in dramatic tears as they lay the casket in the ground while the rest were quietly sombre. But in the end, that was Dassie; quintessentially theatrical since birth.
"So Harold, how is the pharmaceutical business going?" Dassie turned on her son, her voice uncharacteristically pleasant.
"Well, Mother. I've been expanding and searching for more building space on Wall Street. You'd be surprised how many developers want land nowadays. But still not particularly shocking I must add considering how much stocks are going up. People are getting rich, fast, and most want to do something extravagant with the money. What can I say, it's extremely nerving to see a bunch of inexperienced 20-year olds buying land and making deals and then losing everything to bankruptcy. A shame." There was something very cruel about his demeanour that interested Arnold Percy.
"Oh, my entrepreneur! Quite fascinating, really." Dassie chirped and turned to the window, mesmerized in thought. Liliana jerked her head up at the enunciated 'my'. Ever since Mr. Percy could recall, there was an ongoing feud between Liliana and Dassie. They had hated each other from the beginning and the only thing that Harold could do to stop the two from tearing each other apart was to shorten visits and lengthen the time in-between them. Dassie always complained to Mr. Percy of how Liliana was going to rip the family apart and how Clarissa whole-heartedly agreed.
Mr. Percy turned a curious eye on Liliana who was innocently picking at a loose thread on her black blouse. With delicate and curly red hair, cat-like green eyes and a sarcastic humor, she was a very charming woman. Yes, Percy thought, she was indeed but she did really hate Dassie and Clarissa. This thought stuck in Mr. Percy's head the whole ride back to the house.
***
"How about some finger sandwiches to go with that tea, sir?" Jeremy, Dassie's loyal butler and server proposed.
"Why yes, thank you. This one will do, Jeremy." Mr. Percy said, grabbing the smallest sandwich on the platter. He wasn't quite hungry and was still in a pensive mood. He looked around the room and at the clutter of people.
He could see Dassie with her two children and their spouses surrounded by the three grandchildren to his left. While to his right, he saw some of Clarissa's neighbors and childhood friends mingling about.
He recognized the couple that were coming his way as Jack and Fiona McDonald, married for 8 years who had recently picked out a cottage right next to Clarissa's cottage. They lived in London but occasionally visited Lesley for a relaxing vacation. From what Mr. Percy remembered, they came almost every weekend if not every weekend. Jack was a successful businessman who specialized in motor vehicles whereas his wife was an esteemed writer; a very odd but stylish couple.
"Ah, Mr. Percy," Jack enunciated as Fiona smiled graciously, "How've you been? Tragic news about dear Ms. Percy. She will be greatly missed. Your sister was a vibrant one, even at such an age."
Mr. Percy nodded, acknowledging the consoling, "How do you do, Jack. And you, Fiona?"
"We've been fine," Fiona laid an appraising and loving smile on her husband who seemed oblivious to her. It had always been that way; Fiona was desperately in-love with her handsome husband whereas he never looked her way. Clarissa saw this too, Mr. Percy thought to himself, whenever she talked about them, she'd bring up how it was undoubtedly an arranged marriage orchestrated so that Jack's father could set-up business ties with Fiona's successful uncle.
"But of course, this happened all so suddenly and poor, dear Clarissa, always falling and whatnot." Jack said with little to no sympathy in his tone. A cold man indeed, Mr. Percy decided.
They stated a few more of their condolences and then departed for more refreshments, leaving Mr. Percy in his thoughts.
Madame Esther looked flustered and ruddy as she left the Dassie circle and approached Mr. Percy. "Bonjour, Mr. Percy. Ca va?" The frail but plump woman unhappily asked, as if it was her duty to inquire.
"Oh, bonjour, Madame Esther, what a surprise! J'avais pense que vous n'avez venir pas aujourd'hui. I didn't think you would come." Mr. Percy exclaimed in fluent French. Five years in France for post-secondary education really taught him all about the language of love, or so they allegedly call it.
"Vy vould you ever tink that, Monsieur?"
"Because you hated Clarissa and put up with her only because you knew you wouldn't find any other employers willing to withstand your unpleasantness." The man said in his head but replied out loud, "Because you've never liked these rendez-vous."
"Well, I have lived with Clarissa for almost tventy years. Vhen she employed me to help her vid all of the housevork, I vas ecstatic. I vanted to escape France and vas new immigrant. She helped me very much so." The nerving woman gave a small and very false smile, tugging at her black skirt. Although the woman seemed sympathetic, he knew she had hatred lingering in her. He could sense her displeasure as she even said Clarissa's name.
"Understandable." Mr. Percy murmured.
He watched the woman trot away.
The family members and friends of Clarissa Percy were all seated on black, leather couches in the gathering room of the Bloomington estate. Dassie Bloomington, as the rightful owner of the premise, took the liberty of providing each affiliate with a miniature fan and a glass of lemonade to quench their thirst. The windows were shut in somewhat of an ominous matter; although the core of their obscurity was indeed due to the intolerable heat. Nonetheless, a looming presence presented itself amongst the crowd while Mr. Percy gathered his papers in a business-like manner.
"Ahem," Mr. Percy politely coughed under his moustache.
The commotion did not cease and so, Mr. Percy tried again. "Ahem," He said more forcefully.
"Please, let's all listen to Arnold!" Dassie yelled in a booming voice as she stood up. Everybody stopped. "Thank you." She smiled sweetly and sat back down again.
"Apart from being here to commemorate my dear sister Clarissa, I am also here to read out her will and rightly distribute it. Since she never did have successors, the people mentioned in her will are the following: Dassie Bloomington, Sandra Flanders, Harold Bloomington, Esther Desiree and I."
"Her whole estate including her prize winning horses is to be evenly distributed amongst the mentioned. Lucky for the horses, there are five in total." At this, a few chuckled.
