Just before ten o’clock everyone was getting ready to go. Mrs. Alexander was heard to catch herself up in the middle of her good-nights and say,
“If I didn’t nearly forget! That poor Annie Jackson was in early in the afternoon and she’s wanting work, so I said I’d mention it. Seems her husband has lost his job, and there won’t be anything coming in.”
Miss Blake sniffed.
“Well, she would marry him, and look what has come of it! I said to her at the time, ‘You’ll only regret it once, Annie, and that will be for the rest of your life.’ I’d known her all the years with Lucy Wayne, and I wasn’t going to hold my tongue. And what do you think she said? ‘We’ve all got our lives to lead, and this is mine.’ And look where it’s brought her! I never did like William Jackson-I don’t know anyone who does! And he’s been going steadily downhill ever since he got his hands on Annie’s savings!”
Mrs. Ball said,
“It must be very hard for her.”
Mildred Blake tossed her head.
“Oh, she’s brought it on herself! If people won’t be warned they must put up with the consequences! Well, good-night, Mrs. Ball. I can hear Arnold Random practising in the church, so I’ll just step over and have a word with him about Sunday week, because if I’m to play I must have plenty of notice. He can’t expect me just to sit down and rattle off two chants, three hymns and a couple of voluntaries as if I was in the way of doing it every day.”
Mrs. Ball was glad to get away from the subject of poor Mrs. Jackson. She said,
“Oh, yes, he was going up to London for the week-end- wasn’t he?”
The Vicarage stood next to the church. There was no need for Miss Blake to go out on the road and in by the lych gate. She took the short cut through the small side gate into the churchyard and followed it to the door beneath that lighted window. It was, as she had known it would be, ajar. Thirty years before, she had often slipped in to listen to Arnold Random’s playing and walked back with him when he had finished. Those thirty years had not softened her heart or sweetened her temper. They certainly had not left her with any indulgence for Arnold Random.
As she skirted the church she became aware that he had stopped playing. The sound of the organ had not, in fact, been noticeable since she left the Vicarage, yet she had certainly heard it whilst they were talking about Annie Jackson. Arnold could not have gone, or he would have locked the door behind him. He must be putting away the music. Well, so much the better -she certainly didn’t want to have to sit and listen to his playing now. Music was like a lot of other things, the interest went out of it. Her fingers could still control the keys, but her mind had lost the overtones.
She pushed open the door and went in. The door led directly into the church. The organ, with a curtain to screen the organist, lay to the left. The light which had made that faint glow came from behind the curtain. Miss Mildred switched off the torch which she had used to guide herself through the churchyard, took a single step forward, and was aware of voices. Arnold Random’s voice, high and cold, saying something about “nonsense.” And someone answering him with a country accent which seemed to be a little slurred with drink. She came forward a little, moving without any sound, and heard William Jackson say,
“And suppose it isn’t nonsense, Mr. Arnold? Suppose ’tis gospel truth as I’m telling you?”
Arnold Random said sharply,
“You’re drunk!”
From where she stood she could see a part of William Jackson’s arm from the shoulder to the elbow. The curtain had been drawn back, and he stood next to the gap with his rough coat-sleeve showing. Now he took a lurching step to the left, and she could see the back of his head with the reddish hair sticking up and catching the light. The head was being vigorously shaken.
“Not drunk. That’s where you’re wrong, sir. I didn’t ought to have had that last pint, but I’m not drunk. Not so steady on my legs as I might be, but I’m clear enough in my head. And yesterday was a twelvemonth Mr. James Random called me into the study-me and Billy Stokes-and told us we was wanted to witness his will. Yesterday was a twelvemonth.”
Arnold Random said,
“And what if it was?”
“That’s what I’ve come here to have a word about. Mr. Random he took a turn and was dead before the week was out. Supposed to be getting well he was, and the nurse going to leave and all, but he took a turn and he died. And Billy he went in the Navy, and got washed overboard. And never come home. So that leaves only me as could swear to Mr. Random signing of that will.”
“ Jackson, you are drunk! Naturally Mr. Random made a will, and it has been proved and all the business finished with. Now clear out and go home! I’m locking up.”
She could see William swaying a little from one foot to the other.
“Not so fast, sir,” he said. “If I can’t say what I want-to you, there’s others that’ll be glad enough to listen. There’s Mr. Edward for one.”
“What do you mean?”
“That’s what I’m wanting to tell you. Mr. Edward-a year ago there wasn’t anyone but believed he was dead. Mr. Random, he believed it. Lawyer came out from Embank, and he altered his will. Maybe I wasn’t going past the study window when the signing was going on-maybe I haven’t got eyes in my head. Maybe I couldn’t look through the window and see what kind of a paper Mr. Random was putting his name to. A great big stiff white piece of foolscap with typing on it, and Mr. Random leaning over to sign his name, with the lawyer and his clerk, and the lady that was staying in the house- what was her name-Mrs. Peabody-awatching of him. Witnesses, I reckon they was, her and lawyer’s clerk. And she went away next day-back to Australia or something.”
“ Jackson, you are drunk.” The tone was steady but without life.
William laughed. The sound shocked Mildred Blake.
“I’m drunk-because I could look in through the study window and see Mr. Random asigning his will? And a twelvemonth ago yesterday I seen him sign another will-blue paper instead of white, and his own hand instead of all that typewriting stuff, and me and Billy Stokes for witnesses instead of lawyer’s clerk and Mrs. Peabody. A pint too much at the Lamb don’t make you as drunk as all that comes to, Mr. Arnold, and I’ll say the same when I’m stone-cold sober. And so be you don’t believe me, there’s others as will. There’s Mr. Edward for one. Suppose I was to go to him and tell him what I seen and what I heard? Billy he’d gone out by the window, and Mr. Random he was setting there with his head in his hand, staring down at that blue paper in front of him. I said, ‘Will I go now, sir?’ and he looks up at me and he says very solemn, ‘You and Mr. Edward was boys together. I saw him last night in a dream as plain as what I see you now, and he said, “I’m not dead, you know, and I’ll be coming back.” That’s why you’ve been asked to witness this new will. He mustn’t come home and find there’s nothing left for him. I’d like you to remember that, William,’ he says. ‘And I’d like you to tell him when he comes home.’ ”
He stopped. A time went by. Arnold Random spoke into the silence.
“And why didn’t you tell him?”
William Jackson shuffled with his feet.
“I thought I’d wait-I thought he’d be coming. I heard tell as he was coming. It wasn’t a thing I wanted to put on paper. I didn’t want to make trouble for myself, but seeing you’ve took and given me my notice-”
“You thought you’d trump up a story like this!”
Miss Blake saw William Jackson shake his head.