Seamless move back to Rye. Got my Apple Mac Mini up and running on Vemara in a couple of minutes this morning. But it may be too good to last. I bumped into Peter Butler at the supermarket. Steve’s electricity was cut off the other day. Steve’s boat runs off meter one while my boat is hooked onto meter two. But it is illogical and unless you know this, because of the positions of the four boats running off the four meters, you would assume I was hooked up to number one. So paranoia suggests a failed attempt to turn off my power.

Vemara is a 30-foot gaff-cutter. In Connie’s will it passes to me. But there is a caveat. If I sell the boat two-thirds of the proceeds goes to Connie’s son David...in line with the general disbursement of liquid assets...one third to me and two thirds to her son. However Connie was anxious that David should not get his hands on any bequests until he was 25...she had started with 30 but was persuaded that 25 was more reasonable. Also Connie did not trust her ex-husband as far as she could throw him. So David’s share of her estate was entrusted to me until his 25th birthday on 16th October 2011. So far so good. Now for the complications.

My principal concern was to avoid disruption to my Academic Inn Books’ publishing business as Connie owned between a third and a quarter of the business. My thinking was that in the event of Connie’s death I would set up her ownership in a Connie Lindqvist Trust. I figured that as both owner and artistic executor I could call the shots and dictate the purpose and conditions of the trust. Here's the exact wording: ‘I give and bequeath into the sole custody of my partner William Norris Shepherd all possessions of possible artistic value. In particular I give and bequeath all framed and unframed artwork, paintings, sketches and the like and any interests or copyrights of any sort that I might have or might some day have relating to my work as an artist into his safe keeping to administer entirely at his own discretion as the sole executor of my artistic estate or to preserve or dispose of as he may see fit’. That seemed about as tight as we could make it.

At no time in her life did Connie earn more than £ 6000 a year. But she kept up a life insurance. This was designed to clear her estate. But there were two things going on at the time she died. Firstly she was with Equitable Life. The insurance yielded £ 8000 and not £ 12000. Secondly we were setting up to buy Connie a house in Rye. Connie’s house purchase would be a ‘buy to rent’ deal. The mortgage application was to include a three year lease signed by REB Limited one of my two UK companies.

In July 2002 we took on the Good Yacht Guide. From a financial point of view this meant we could boost Connie’s income to whatever we needed it to be and focus our attention on ensuring that we had the cash flow to meet the monthly mortgage payments. We were also in the middle of moving Connie’s bank and credit card debts over to me when she died to cut back her monthly payments when applying for her mortgage.

Connie died in November 2002. Her last loan repayment was due in February 2003. By the summer of 2003 she would have been debt-free with just a mortgage to her name. Her income would service the loan and provide her with a private income of five thousand a year. s Connie would have been in seventh heaven. Instead she went there by another route...and a few months early...leaving me to pick up the pieces of both lives while firing on only one of my four cylinders. Frankly it has been a nightmare that I would not wish on anyone else.

I was quite comfortable to sit it out until the end of 2004 because then David would be 18 and his parental guardian would be out of the picture. I indicated as such to the executor and the solicitors he brought in to look after the estate. A note of discord had entered at this point. I objected. It seemed insulting to Connie to bringing in lawyers at £ 100 an hour to pick over bones that had slaved away for 35 years at under £ 5 an hour.

Come the Spring of 2005 I started agitating but found myself talking...Shirley Valentine fashion...to a brick wall. My letters were ignored. So in August 2005 I got in touch with Brian Walker...an old friend from primary school days...who works with his wife from chambers on Sevenoaks High Street. Vance Harris can ignore lesser mortals but will get struck off if they refuse to respond to Walker & Walker. This cunning plan maintains the legal profession’s closed shop. Painfully...like pulling teeth...answers started to dribble through.

By the end of October Walker & Walker had dragged some accounts out of Vance Harris. These showed that Mr Roud who runs Brede Moorings had been playing both ends against the middle by taking mooring fees from myself and Vance Harris. Back in the summer Mr Roud set up a piece of theatre to order me off the moorings. I smelt a rat and refused to budge. He figured I should quit while he was £1000 ahead. So far Brian Walker has managed to keep his costs down to £400. But my daughter does two days a week at the Citizens Advice Bureau in Cardigan and is advising me to look into legal aid. Perhaps Cherie Booth will represent me?