Previous Chapters: 1&2 3 4 5 6
Rolly's Will is contested
Kevin was sitting in the kitchen drinking a cup of coffee in his home in Sydney, Australia.
A deadly funnel-web spider crawled across the floor, its body was easily 2 inches long and its long hairy legs stretched out each side. Kevin casually crushed it with his bare foot – it was a common occurrence and he thought nothing of it.
Suddenly his doorbell rang.
Upon answering the door, the postman greeted him “G’day mate. Mr Kevin St John Peters?” He pronounced St John as Saint John.
“Yes. That’s me.”
“Please sign for this registered letter.”
Returning to the kitchen and sitting, Kevin slit open the long buff envelope, unfolded the pages and started to read:
Botherington, Higginbottom & Sneed, solicitors3 Curzon HouseExeter, Devon EX1 1RS
England
23 January 2023, Our Ref. KSJP1
Attention: Kevin William St John Peters, Esq.
Dear Mr St John Peters
It is my sad duty to inform you of the demise of your father, Brigadier Roland Arthur St John Peters on the 29th of December past, at his home in Fairbourne Hall, Little Shipley, Devon.
In accordance with his Will (copy attached) we hereby enclose a bank draft drawn on the Exeter branch of The Midland Bank, for the sum of Ten Pounds 00/100 as stipulated in the aforementioned Will.
Kindly confirm reception of this letter and cheque.
I remain your humble servant etc. etc.
Hugh Botherington
Partner
Kevin reread the letter and gazed at the cheque; he was aghast and furious.
He wasn’t going to take this without putting up a fight.
The sign outside courtroom No. 3 read:
Exeter Crown Court
3 February 2023, 10 am
St John Peters versus St John Peters
Aunt Agatha and Priscilla sat in the Defendant’s chairs, the former wearing a serious dark skirt suit and white blouse, the latter in a nicely ironed black maids’ uniform and starched white apron (specially bought for the occasion), beige tights, and her best high heeled platform pumps with the elegant bows; she was not wearing her cap today but had her hair neatly plaited into two pigtails which hung down in front of her shoulders, each with a white bow.
Madam Agatha had allowed her to wear a little discreet makeup and pink lipstick.
Priscilla at the court hearing
Kevin and his partner Irma Fernlove sat seriously in the Plaintiff’s chairs, both wearing bush clothes as seen in the photo below. Kevin was wearing a pair of dusty crocodile skin boots.
The overhead gallery was full: there were Kevin’s two daughters, Hugh Botherington, Piers Higginbottom, Peregrine Sneed, a courtroom sketch artist and many media reporters – CNN, BBC, The London Times, The Daily Mail, The New York Post, the Australian Broadcasting Corporation, Channel 7, Reuters and others.
“All rise. The Honorable Sir Andrew Slammer-Jones, presiding.”
“Please be seated.” instructed the judge, sitting down heavily in his black robe and curly wig. “The Plaintiff’s representative may commence this hearing.”
King’s Council Henry Snuff-Brown rose and strode into centre stage:
“Thank you M’lud.
Today’s case is brought by my client, Kevin William St John Peters against the estate of the late Brigadier Roland Arthur St John Peters, the plaintiff’s late father.
The Plaintiff and his lovely partner have travelled all the way from their residence in Australia to seek justice in this matter – a matter that appears to be very clear, M’lud.
The estate of his late father is considerable: The family mansion and extensive grounds, stocks and shares in important companies, and a total of over 18 million pounds.
My client is not contesting possession of the mansion or the grounds nor is he contesting payments paid to servants and local charities, however, he is in complete disagreement that his sister should receive 8 million pounds and his brother should receive 10 million pounds, while my client is bequeathed the paltry sum of ten pounds – barely enough to buy a pint of beer and a sausage roll, M’lud.”
“Quite so, quite so, Mr Snuff-Brown; we are all aware of the cost of living. Please continue.”
“Thank you, M’lud.
Our investigations have revealed that the late Brigadier was given to hard drink, and gluttony, and at 92 years of age he was clearly senile and unaware of what he was signing.
We therefore request that the Will be annulled and that the 18 million pounds be shared equally between the three children. Namely, 6 million pounds each.
The plaintiff’s case rests M’lud.” And with that, he sat down.
There was a buzzing in the gallery and many heads were nodding in agreement.
King’s Council James Leverstone rose, and he also strode into centre stage:
“I thank the Plaintiff’s learned council but respectfully disagree.”
Aunt Agatha was called to testify that her father was of sound mind and in complete control of his faculties when he prepared his Will. She was thanked and excused.
“M’lud, I now call upon the Brigadier’s other son, Dennis St John Peters.”
Priscilla rose and click clacked over to stand, where she waited demurely, hands clasped in front of her, nervously licking her lips.
The Judge stared at Priscilla and said to KC Leverstone “I don’t understand; I thought you said “son.”
“Yes, M’lud, the other son.”
“But, but she’s a gal…I’m puzzled…what’s going on in my courtroom?”
“May I approach the bench, M’lud?”
Leverstone approached the judge and started murmuring in his ear. The judge frowned and looked at Priscilla. More murmured explanations and more puzzled looks by the elderly judge.
The Judge finally declared “I really don’t understand any of this; it’s quite irregular, but you may continue.” The judge kept frowning and staring at Priscilla, shaking his head from side to side in puzzled amazement.
Much murmuring and stifled laughs were heard from the media folk in the gallery.
The court artist was hurriedly making a sketch of Priscilla.
Priscilla also testified as had her aunt and was then excused, clicking back to her seat, where before sitting, she carefully swept her hand under her dress so as not to crease it.
Leverstone then brought out his trump card:
In a deep sonorous voice, he announced “M’lud, I present the following newspaper cutting in evidence”, theatrically holding it up for the judge to see:
“Kevin St John Peters is a CRIMINAL AND HAS BEEN JAILED FOR BESTIALITY!” he thundered, spittle spraying from his lips.
He turned and held the newspaper cutting for the people in the gallery to see:
agriculture school in Sydney's west.
Police allege the 43-year-old man broke into the school numerous times over the last
month, allegedly assaulting sheep and goats at St Marys Senior High School.
The courtroom was in an uproar:
KC Leverstone was cheering and raised both hands in victory, Kevin hung his head, Irma just stared at him, his daughters shouted, “You pervert, Daddy!”, the media mob were shouting and jostling to be the first out of the courtroom and get the scoop over the competition.
The judge banged his gavel many times shouting for order, and then declared “The Court holds for the defence!” and scurried out of the room.
KC Snuff-Brown stormed out of the room.
Aunt Agatha and Priscilla hugged each other.
They had won the case.
CNN
“This is Rosemary Church in Atlanta. We interrupt this programme to take you to England where our Chief International Anchor, Christiane Amanpour reports on some breaking news from outside the Exeter Crown Court.”
Wait, wait…I think they’re leaving the courtroom right now…cameraman, Get this.”
“Mr Kevin, what have you to say about the verdict?” “No Comment.”
The media mob were jostling to thrust microphones in front of Kevin, and to take photos. “Mr Kevin, Mr Kevin…”
Waiting crowds of onlookers started to boo and shout: “Pervert!”, “Sheep Shagger!”, “Go home!” and policemen spread their arms wide trying to protect Kevin and his family from the angry crowd.
Irma shouted, “This is a travesty of justice!”
Kevin, Irma and the two daughters hurried to a waiting car and sped off directly to Heathrow Airport (the paparazzi chasing them on motorbikes) and caught the next plane back to Sydney.
Arriving back in Sydney’s Kingsford Smith International Airport, Kevin, disheveled, bleary eyed, unshaven and jet lagged, together with Irma and the two daughters cleared immigration and customs and walked into the main concourse.
Local scandal sheets were in every newsstand screaming:
CONVICTED SHEEP-SEX MANIAC RETURNS TO OZ WITH HIS TAIL BETWEEN HIS LEGS.
Loses case against rich heiress and transvestite Pom brother.
To escape the scandal, Kevin left his two daughters in Sydney, sold his home, and together with Irma escaped to the outback where they spent most of their savings on buying a small sheep station and a battered pickup truck. They then lived a quiet, modest life rearing sheep and selling the wool and slaughtered animals.
The flying doctor dropped in each month to visit, and brought them medicines, the Sydney newspapers, and strangely, the Bideford and Little Shipton Evening Chronical.
Many poor ewes were to suffer before being slaughtered.
Comment from Mistress Rosemary
Since that court case I have given up eating Australian lamb. Ugh!
Chapter 8