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After the funeral, a morial banquet was held at Audrey Hepburn's ho in the town of Tolochenaz, where family and friends gathered to rember her.
Henry, having just finished helping with the arrangents, was up in the attic, packing his belongings to be shipped back to his rented place in Los Angeles.
With his employer gone, so too was his job. As for the wages for the final month, he figured he could collect them from Hepburn's long-ti lawyer.
All matters related to money, taxes, and Audrey Hepburn's investnts had always been handled by this old friend of hers.
Henry also needed to settle the petty cash she had left in his care and return the secondary credit card. Everything had to be properly docunted and signed for.
Such was life: soone dies, yet the living must go on. Rules and formalities couldn't be ignored—especially when money was involved, as that was where disputes were most likely to arise.
---
"Henry, are you up there?" a voice called from the foot of the attic stairs.
"Yes. Do you need more help downstairs?" Most of the banquet food had been prepared by Henry—mainly cold platters, nothing that had to be served piping hot. If dishes ran out, he simply replenished them or put out sothing else.
But the man at the stairs wasn't calling him for kitchen duty. It was a balding German gentleman—Arnie Adler, Hepburn's lawyer.
"Since the family mbers all live far apart, it won't be easy to gather them again," Adler explained. "So tonight, we'll be reading the will. I'm here to inform you that you should attend as well."
Surprised, Henry asked while coming down the stairs: "The will? Why would I need to be there?"
"Because it concerns you, of course. Don't wander off this evening, or I'll have to chase you down again."
"Uh… all right, I'll be there." After agreeing, Henry added: "Mr. Adler, about my last paycheck—and the petty cash and credit card the boss entrusted to —how should I handle those?"
"That's all been arranged. She instructed personally to settle everything with you, and there's a dedicated fund for such expenses. The accountant is here as well—let's go over it together."
"Would the attic work, or should we find a quieter place?"
Adler glanced around the house, then said: "The attic will do."
"Okay. I'll prepare the docunts and items for handover."
---
Soon Adler returned with another German gentleman—the accountant.
The attic had once been a storage space, but since Henry moved in he had cleaned and arranged it into a small sitting room and bedroom. It was far more spacious than the room he'd originally been assigned downstairs.
Now, with Henry packing to leave, the place looked cluttered, but it was still tidy and well lit.
"You're moving out so soon?" Adler asked.
"My job was to assist the boss. With her gone, I can't exactly act as her spokesperson in the world of the living." Henry smiled wryly. "What else is there for to do but go?"
"Robert or Sean didn't try to keep you on?"
Henry shook his head. "They already have their own trusted people. I only stepped in because the previous driver, Anton, retired. Otherwise, I'd never have had the chance to serve the boss. Forcing myself to stay on now wouldn't make sense."
It wasn't about ability, but about whether he enjoyed the work. Serving Audrey Hepburn had been aningful. For anyone else, he wouldn't have had the sa motivation.
Henry served tea, then laid out the prepared ledger, receipts, and the various currencies and credit card to be returned.
The accountant cross-checked the records and amounts, confird everything was in order, and prepared verification docunts. Together with Adler, he sealed the cash and credit card into a manila envelope, to be opened again during the formal estate settlent.
Adler also reviewed Henry's drafted declaration of return. Finding no issues, they both signed it.
Because the docunt was executed in Switzerland, it was written in French—one of the country's official languages—rather than English.
Looking at Henry's draft, Adler remarked: "If Hepburn hadn't told herself that you never earned a degree, I'd think you were a law school prodigy. Even my firm's interns can't draft sothing this clean. They'd just copy an old template and tweak it."
Henry brushed it off with a smile. "I only looked up so references. There weren't any blank forms to copy, so I had to write it out myself."
"That's still impressive," Adler chuckled. "Anyway—don't slip away tonight. I'm too old to go chasing after you. If you make , I'll be sure to complain to Hepburn when I see her."
The old man's grim joke earned Henry's good-natured reply: "I'll give you a few more years before you get to complain."
"You rascal." Adler laughed and patted his shoulder. "Just rember—be there."
"Of course."
---
When the banquet ended and the guests departed, Henry joined the gathering in the dining room for the reading of the will.
Audrey Hepburn's two sons sat at the head, with their fathers behind them.
Though her ex-husbands had no legal claim to the estate—and her sons were grown and needed no guardianship—the size of the inheritance drew their interest nonetheless.
Outsiders were strictly excluded; otherwise the dining room would have been packed.
Robert Wolders, Audrey's chosen life partner, sat nearby. Though they had never married—her way of safeguarding her sons' inheritance—no one doubted she would leave him sothing aningful. Neither Sean nor Luca could object to that.
Her dearest friend, Hubert de Givenchy, was also present, which ca as no surprise.
What did surprise people, however, was Henry's presence.
While no one showed open hostility, there was quiet curiosity: What could this assistant possibly stand to inherit from her estate?
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