35
GUATIZA, THURSDAY 28 MARCH 2019I thought that would be the end of my time on Lanzarote. I was preparing myself for the inevitable return to London, to the house I had shared with Jess, to memories and little else. And then, all the way from his watery grave, Billy hit me with a curveball.
It was Clarissa who first raised the matter of his will. We were out on the patio enjoying some fine Rioja the following afternoon when Trevor mentioned missing his kids. That remark caused Clarissa to sit up straight in her seat as though struck by a flash of insight. She turned to me.
‘A man like Billy would have made a will,’ she said slowly. Her eyes had widened. She was having one of her psychic turns.
‘You think?’ I said doubtfully.
Clarissa grew a touch impatient. This wasn’t the first time
