They Thought I Was Dead: Sandy’s Story

20 July 2007 — Looking back

I was right, there wasn’t just one letter inside, there were two, stapled together.

The first, written entirely in German, was on old-fashioned, embossed corporate letterhead, the law firm’s moniker, Fischer Volks, at the top, and two columns of names, all with letters after them, in much smaller print beneath. Evidently a substantial company, if these were all partners.

I was about to hand it to Carolyn Smith when I realized the stapled attachment was a translation. Somewhat in pidgin English, I saw, as I began to read.

I handed the letter across the desk to the solicitor, who read it in silence for some moments. Then she looked at me. ‘Not a great translation, is it?’

‘Done by a budgerigar?’

She smiled. ‘Let’s hope it’s laid a golden egg.’

I nodded, very hard, thinking how good that would be. It could change everything. ‘So what happens next?’ I asked, trying not to sound over-excited or anxious, but very conscious of Roel Albazi breathing down my neck.

‘Well,’ she said, ‘I can email her, informing her I’ve verified it is you, then it’s over to you to communicate directly with her.’

I shook my head. ‘No, I... I’d like you to do that.’

I explained to her that I did not want my husband to find out about this inheritance, which — although I did not tell her — I had every expectation was going to be massive. Life-changing, for sure. I asked if she could represent me in handling the money, when it came in. I mentioned that I was potentially planning to leave him, and that I wanted the money to be paid into an account I still legally held in my maiden name.

She replied that she could not see there was any issue with that. And as my solicitor, she would carry out any instructions regarding my inheritance that I gave her.

She then had a call on her intercom that her next client was in reception. She glanced at her watch and told me to make an appointment with her assistant for the following day. Also, to fill in all the forms she needed to take me on as a client, and by tomorrow she expected to have heard back from the German law firm, with further details — and hopefully the amount of my inheritance.

I was so excited I barely slept all night. My tossing and turning repeatedly woke Roy, and I was riddled with guilt. He’d been working around the clock for the past week on a nasty case — a charred body found in a burnt-out car — and was shattered. But I couldn’t help it, I was dreaming of the fortune I was certain I was going to inherit from the estate of Antje Frieburg, widow of Claus Kauffman-Frieburg.

I did wonder why she had dropped the Kauffman, but I didn’t wonder that much. More on my mind was the fact that Antje Frieburg was the widow of the 231st richest man in Germany. I felt so confident that I texted Roel Albazi, telling him I was coming into an inheritance and would have sufficient funds to repay him entirely within just a few days, a week or so at the most.

He messaged me back that he was glad to hear this. When could he expect the first payment?

I told him there would be no ‘first payment’. He would be getting the whole lot in one go.

He sent me back an emoji of fingers crossed.

I ignored it. Albazi was history. The debt was history, and sadly, but inevitably, my husband was about to be history too. This had gone too far for me to go back to normality now. I had to be brave and see it through. I was heading to a new life, an heiress, with a baby growing inside me.

My only decision now was where to go?

And Germany was very much on my mind. Germany felt like my destiny!

I finally fell asleep, and despite my guilt and anxiety I had a very happy dream. It might not have been so great if I’d known what Carolyn Smith was going to tell me in the morning.