Bonne chance, mes bébés des bois.
Vanessa laid the letter on the desk and unfolded another piece of paper, but before she could read it, Maggie held up her hand.
“I’m sorry, what? He wants us to reinstate the winter solstice celebration?” she asked. She could feel her anxiety sitting in her throat like a dry potato chip.
“Yes. Your father has set aside a small cash fund to help with any costs incurred, which you may draw upon from this office.”
“How much is small?” asked Simone.
“I’m afraid I am not at liberty to discuss that at this time. However, if and when you need to dip into it, Augustus has asked that you put your request in writing and someone here will see that you are credited.”
“Well, that’s something, I suppose,” said Maggie. “I am not a person who has the luxury of disposable cash.”
“Was that aimed at me?” Simone snapped.
“What? Why would it be? Jeez, you’re so tetchy all the time!”
“I don’t have any cash, disposable or otherwise,” Star chimed in.
“Well, there’s a surprise. Maybe you could get one of your boyfriends to steal you some.”
“That was uncalled for,” Maggie reprimanded.
“The point being!” Vanessa spoke over them. “Your father has put measures in place so that none of you should be out of pocket financially. Your time is another matter, and one that I’m afraid I can’t help with.”
“What the fuck even is a winter solstice?” asked Simone. “I’ve heard the term, obviously, but what actually is it, like some chanting around a bonfire or waving sage around? Animal sacrifice or some shit?”
“Why must you always look down your nose at anything that doesn’t fit with your own personal beliefs?” Star snapped uncharacteristically. Simone remained unabashed. “Just because you don’t understand something, doesn’t make it shit!” she went on. “The winter solstice marks the shortest day and the longest night of the year. It signifies the beginning of winter, but also it marks the point at which the days will begin to get longer again. For centuries, communities have made an event of the winter solstice by giving thanks and celebrating the light soon to return.”
“Of course our little resident hippie would know what a winter solstice is.” Simone smirked.
“It’s a natural science event based in astronomical fact, not made up by anyone, ‘hippie’ or otherwise.” Star rolled her eyes.
“At least one of us knows something about it,” Maggie said diplomatically before turning back to Vanessa. “Are you sure he wants us to actually hold a winter solstice event? Could he have been speaking metaphorically?”
“I’m afraid not. Those are his actual wishes, yes.” Vanessa looked apologetically at the three women.
“Wishes we couldn’t ignore if we wanted to,” said Simone. “He’s got us over a barrel.”
“Cheeky old bugger,” Star mused.
“I haven’t got time to be chasing around the village trying to organize a festival.” Maggie felt the weight of all her responsibilities pulling her under. How on earth was she going to fit anything else onto her plate? Any day now, Verity was going to come home from school with details of the Christmas play costume, which Maggie was required to make; the orders for Christmas veg boxes and Christmas trees were coming in thick and fast; and oh yes, she also had to pack up their whole life and magically pull somewhere out of her arse for them to live.
“You’re not the only one with a busy life,” Simone snapped.
“I didn’t say I was. But we all know who this is going to fall to, don’t we?”
“Oh, here we go with the martyrdom.”
“I’m not being a martyr, I’m stating fact. You were both demonstrably absent when I was organizing the funeral.”
“I wondered how long you’d hold that against me.”
“It was only three weeks ago! You have no idea what I’m dealing with right now.”
“Well, I’m sure you’ll do what you always do and tell us all about it after you’ve dealt with it so that we can do nothing but feel guilty.”
“You are a piece of work, Simone, do you know that? Jeez! If they gave out certificates for being bitchy . . .”
“I think it might be quite fun,” piped up Star.
“Of course you do, you’ve got nothing better to do with your time than flit about.” Simone’s sarcasm was scathing. “You’ve turned being irresponsible into an art form.”
“Don’t pick on her. Being miserable doesn’t give you the right to be mean.”
“Okay, take Star’s side, like you always do.”
“That’s simply not true, is it, Simone? I’m as bloody Switzerland as they come, but you make it very difficult sometimes.” Maggie was trying to keep her cool, but this was a lot to take in and Simone was not helping.
“Ladies, if I might be allowed to continue?” Vanessa appeared unruffled by the outburst; she had long been impervious to their bickering.
The sisters sat chastened.
“Sorry, Vanessa,” Maggie said, and her sisters followed suit, mumbling their apologies.
“I know this is a lot for you. But we are dealing in legalities here, and as a solicitor, I can serve you better if you let me do my job. These are the instructions for the first task.” She waved the unfolded paper and began to read.
“My girls, listen closely to what the nice solicitor is reading.”
Vanessa looked up pointedly.
“Hidden within North Novelties & Curios are thirty-two Monopoly houses. Working together you must find all thirty-two and present them to Steele & Brannigan. Upon receipt and verification, you will be presented with the key to a lockbox that holds the deeds to the building, land, and the woods, and a comprehensive ledger containing details of every item in the shop, as well as details that will help you in your winter solstice endeavors . . .”
“Easy,” said Simone. “I’ll drive over to Lakeside now and pick up a Monopoly game. Job done. We’ll give you the houses, and you can hand over the key.”
“Good idea.” Maggie patted her arm. “We can come with you.”
“I could do some Christmas shopping,” added Star.
“Ahem.”
All eyes turned back to Vanessa, who cast her own back down to the paper and continued to read.
“And before one of you—probably Simone—gets any ideas about simply purchasing a fresh game of Monopoly . . .”
Simone shook her head, her mouth pulling between a pout and a smile. Star chirruped out a giggle, and Maggie grinned at their father’s uncanny ability to pin them even from the grave.
Vanessa continued, “You should know that I have customized each house in some way, details of which are inside a sealed envelope”—Vanessa held up said envelope while continuing to read—“which is only to be opened upon receipt of all thirty-two houses, whereupon they will be marked off against written details of my customizations. Happy hunting, my babes of the woods. May Artemis watch over your endeavors!”
“Crafty old fox.” Maggie sighed. “Does he mean Artemis the Greek goddess or the cat?”