Regular
posted 20 May 2008 in Volume 13 Issue 4
In search of beneficiaries…
One aspect of a probate researcher’s job, which is often overlooked, is the very sensitive nature of information that we deal with on a day-to-day basis. Death is, after all, generally not a pleasant topic of conversation, and yet it is the starting point of our work.
Once we have mapped the family tree out and located nextof kin, managers are then left with the unenviable task of informing the relatives, sometimes as close as the mother or father of the deceased, of the news – the death itself being only one part of the conversation.
In the case of parents or siblings, our approach must be extremely cautious. The hard facts that we have at our disposal, those traced by birth or adoption and marriage records, cannot prepare us for the sometimes haunting details of what lead to a person dying alone and apart from their closest family. For example, the disgraced daughter forced to abandon her family home and country because she fell pregnant out of wedlock and made to give up the child for adoption; the mother who one day walked out on her husband, leaving him to bring up their five children; or the schizophrenic brother who went through periods of trying to kill his sister.
Over the course of some of our senior managers’ 30-odd years each of experience, they have witnessed a full spectrum of reactions to the initial news of such a death. From the nonchalant ?Oh, she’s finally kicked the bucket then, has she?’ (referring to her mother, who it emerged had been living alone less than three miles away for over 20 years); through to the inconsolable tears of a mother who had concealed the existence of an illegitimate son born years earlier from her husband and family, while still meeting him regularly.
In fact, we become privy to enough family stories to fill a library, and frequently end up knowing a lot more about the deceased’s family members than most of them, as a result of our own in-house research, as well as following up various family stems. To a large majority of people, our call finally brings closure to years of wondering what happened to the ?black sheep’ of the family.
Sensitivity and discretion underpin every contact that is made, notwithstanding the second part of the emotional rollercoaster which we are charged with delivering: the dubious gift left by the deceased, as we break the news of the estate. This tends to bring about an entirely different range of emotions, irrespective of how close or distant the relation is: some older people consider it immoral to ?take money from the dead’, and refuse to have anything to do with the distribution of the estate, thereby delaying the whole process. Other reasons for refusing inheritance include the feeling of betrayal by the deceased, such as a father who emigrated to the US and who never even wrote his five children a letter while their mother supported them and awaited his return; refusal to have anything to do with the deceased following years of mental abuse and threatening behaviour; and, simple denial that the deceased was related to the surviving relatives.
Some of these reactions have stumped even our managers, who pride themselves on their professional approach and empathy, and who have been left unsure as to the best way to react. Would it be best to follow up a brush-off with a light joke picking up from the relative’s tone, or to continue on the basis that it is a deceased individual who deserves respect irrespective of the course their life took?
On the other hand, there are many next of kin grateful to receive the famous knock on the door. One person’s inheritance rarely runs into millions of pounds, though even the smallest of amounts can make quite a difference. With even a few thousand pounds stretching to a new car or a nice holiday, many beneficiaries are pleasantly surprised to find that there was indeed a spinster great aunt who lived in a mansion all alone (although they also express sadness not to have known her or been able to help her). Regrettably, time and again we have found that the spinster aunt is actually a lonely individual who lived in absolute squalor, when a number of bank accounts and share portfolios valued her estate at over £250,000. It is still shocking and saddening to find that there are people who live and die in such conditions.
Such cases do however put us in the unique position of being able to bring families back together. After one brother didn’t agree with the way that their mother had been treated during the final stages of her life and then in the preparations for her funeral, he cut all his ties with this family in the north and moved to
Kasia A. Oberc is relationship manager at Fraser & Fraser. For more information contact 020 78321430 or e-mail legal@lostkin.co.uk
denotes premium content | Jan 9 2009 




















