Trust Fund

Chapter16

 Trust fund

June 1997

Turning 18 “We’re going to White Spot for dinner on Thursday” I’m emotional, weird. I lived for this day. Literally lived for this day. I’m free. Free from torment, free from sharing, free from bullies. Free to feel happiness.

“Hello,” I answer.

“Miss Susan Whyte.”

“Yes?”

“This is Sharon Duncan from beckon and James Law Offices,” sounding professional. “Mr. Beckon has some business to discuss with you and some papers to sign.  I’d like to book your appointment”

“Papers?

“Yes you are eighteen and you’re required by law to sign for your trust fund. If you are free this week I could book that appointment for you right now.”

“Trust fund?’ Fuck, what is she talking about? Trust fund?

“Yes Miss Whyte.  Would tomorrow work for you? ”

“Yes, I’m free in the morning” my throat starts to constrict and the words scrape my dry throat to make their way out of my mouth. Trust fund what is she talking about? How many Libby Whyte’s live in Vancouver? Trust fund? My though spin out of control. Does she have the right person?

“..Time?” The phone is silent,         “Miss Whyte?”

“Pardon me?” I ask stunned.

“Would ten be a good time?”

“Yes ten is great!” Trust fund? I’m flabbergasted.

“Ten it is then. Our address is 100a-355 Burrard St. Downtown. Thank you. See you tomorrow. Good day Miss Whyte.

“Good bye” I hang up and eminently sit down. Could this be possible?

I wake up early, shower, get dressed in my best dress and leave by 9am. I figure I can grab a coffee on the way there.

I arrive at the Marine building at 9:45am. I been by this building many times before but, never have I had a reason to go in until now. I have to take a moment to study the entrance, it’s grand. 2 revolving doors sit at the bottom of an arched vestibule. Above the door the there is a molding that is cover with plaster seaweed, skate, snails and clam shells. I know by the look of the entrance this is could be life a changing moment. I just feel that this is sometime big. I mean with the life I’ve had so far this has to be big.

“Good morning Miss Whyte.” He’s standing as I walk into his office. “My name is Richard Benson,” he extends his hand. He’s tall, medium build and very grey hair for such a young man. I put him in his early thirties but, I may be a poor judge of age. A flash of wonder skip through my thoughts.  Does he own the company? Does he own this building?  How did he find me? “Please have a seat. I’m in charge of the legal side of your trust. I have some safety nets to discuss and then we’ll get your signature on a few documents. I’m sure you’ll be pleased to to know we can have the money deposited possibly as soon as Thursday.”

“Money?  What money?” I ask timidly as my jaw drops to the floor, I’m stunned. How?  Why? From Who?

“A trust was started for you when you were 8 and there are two very important conditions but, now that you are 18 you can receive the first part of your allotment. The second condition is that you must be 22 before you receive your second entitled sum.” My brows furrow and I give him a puzzled look. I’m sure he can read my facial expressions. “Brace yourself Miss Whyte; this may be shocking to you.” Oh dear god what?  I grab hold of my chair and with butterflies banging around in my stomach I prepare for the unknown. The terms are $500, 00.00 now at eighteen and $1.5 million at 22 years of age.”

“2.5 million! What? Are you sure you have the right person!?You’re not kidding right? There isn’t a camera on me is there?” laughing, I feel giddy and nervous at the same time.

“No Miss Whyte this is all above board. This was put in place ten years ago. I’ve been waiting to meet you. I’ve have been very curious about you.”

“Who put this in place? A long lost relative?” I ask with longing to be connected to someone.

“Someone who wishes to stay anonymous.” He’s answers professionally and without a smile. Who could it be? No clues, no answers, and no connections but, I flying high as I leave his office.

       Gliding out the front door my feet still are not touching the ground. I’m floating on pure adrenalin. The sun is shining brightly, the birds are singing and people are smiling as they pass by me.

Can they see I’m rich? Do they all know? “Yahoo!” I yell as I jump in the air. I practically run to the bus stop and wait to catch the 51 bus home. The bus stops and the doors open. I climb aboard smiling at the bus driver, “Good day!” Slipping my coins into the receptacle I scoot to the back of the bus, find an empty seat and sit down. Then as the bus accelerates an odd thought pops into a recess of my brain. Who wants to be anonymous? Why do they want to be a secret to me? What kind of commitment does this sum of money have on me?

As the bus jerks forward I try and concentrate on the good the money holds for me and the boys I live with, Stewart and Christian. What we will be able to do now.

“Hello, any one home?” I knock as I enter the basement suite. Christian and Stewart moved right out of high school, 21/2 months ago. They’re inseparable now. It makes me happy to see them this way, together. They are so, romantic. Stewart is forever buying Christian white roses. They cook together. They whisper sweet nothings in each other’s ears.  When they talk they look each other directly into each other’s eyes, I want that too. I want to fall hopelessly in love. I need to know one day I’ll meet my Prince Charming, my bigger than life hero.

“I have a surprise