Charles nodded.
"Very well. In that case, would you come this way?"
He lead Matthew the appreciable distance from the drawing room to the library where the projector and screen were set up and ready in front of the burgundy-coloured twenty-volume Encyclopaedia Britannica, this time with two chairs positioned in front. James had already drawn the curtains so the room was lit with electric lights. Matthew seemed puzzled, then he sniggered.
"What's all this then? We gonna watch an X-rated movie?"
Charles allowed himself a gentle smile, and welcomed the slight relief in the atmosphere which this comment brought. He indicated the two chairs and they both sat.
"Matthew… may I call you Matthew?… Somewhat unusually, your late father, rather than commit his Last Will and Testament to paper in the normal way decided, instead, to record his wishes on cine film."
Matthew raised an eyebrow. "Ok. Is it legal to do that?"
"Oh yes. So long as certain statutory wording is used to ensure that the correct protocol is followed, and provided that one's wishes are clear, there shouldn't be any problem."
"Fine."
"Shall we begin?"
He waved a hand in a rather dismissive fashion.
"Please do."
Whilst trying to maintain his external air of cool professionalism, now that the big moment had arrived Charles was feeling very excited. This was going to be very different to the norm and he just couldn't wait to see how Matthew was going to respond to what he was about to see. He signalled to James, who nodded and switched off the lights. Then he pushed a button on the projector; a soft whirring sound was heard and the film began to roll.
Chapter 5
The first thing to be seen was simply an empty room — the one which Charles now knew to be the octagonal chamber in the tower. After a moment, the figure of Lord Alfred, looking surprisingly well, moved into the frame and sat down at his desk. He appeared so jaunty and full of excitement that it could only be supposed that he had made this film quite some time before his death. He was wearing a tailored smoking jacket of blue velvet — not that he ever smoked, of course, but Charles knew he felt such a garment to be part of the quintessentially British character that he had made his own. He regarded his audience, gazing directly into the camera lens for a long moment. Then he began:
"So, I suppose you'll finally be very happy to know that I am no longer resident in this world. And, I suppose, you're so absolutely stricken with grief that you're not even remotely concerned as to what little nest egg might be waiting for you from the — ahem — modest estate which I am fortunate enough to have built up. Well, more of that in a moment."
He paused for a second. Then his gaze hardened as he continued:
"Now then, Matthew!"
Charles was sure the man physically jumped a little as his name was called.
"Your whole life has been characterised by wastefulness. Over and over again you have wasted your own money on countless pea-brained schemes and then you've come running to me for help to bail you out of your ever-increasing messes."
His tone softened a little as he continued. "I tried so hard to teach you all I could; I tried to instil in you the noble character which has been associated with the Willoughby name for generations. Was it asking too much to want my son to be a fine upstanding citizen?" An undercurrent of annoyance became apparent in his voice as he added, "I'd love to be standing there right now to ask you what you think of such an impressive record of — achievement."
Matthew scowled and sank a little lower in his chair.
"Now, my loyal butler, James."
Since this was, for James, the second viewing of the film he knew what was coming, but years of service caused him to instinctively draw himself fully upright and listen to his master attentively.
"You have served me well. There have been many times when I needed someone to rely on and, time and time again, you were that person. You have my heartfelt thanks."
"And Charles, my… so-" Lord Alfred paused, and seemed to have a moment's difficulty in breathing. Recovering swiftly, he looked back into the camera and continued, "…my solicitor. I have always been impressed with the standards you have exhibited in your work. All necessary details have always been attended to and," he paused again and gave a slight smile, "you have displayed great patience in your dealings with a grouchy old man."
Charles was aware that Matthew was becoming a little restless. The killer punch was almost upon them. Just stay calm, he told himself. You're an experienced solicitor. You know how to handle these situations, and you’ve faced more difficult ones than this. Remain cool and collected.
"And now," His Lordship continued, "we finally come to the moment you've all been waiting for — the division of the loot!"
"About time," grumbled Matthew, under his breath.
"So, let's make it all official then. Here goes."
He paused again, before clearing his throat very deliberately and taking a deep breath.
"I, Alfred Clifton Leonard Willoughby currently of Heston Grange, being of sound mind and body, do hereby make known my Last Will and Testament and, in so doing, hereby revoke all previous testamentary dispositions. And, just in case any of you should doubt my sanity," — he held up a piece of paper—"this is a letter signed by my doctor stating that I am perfectly well and in complete possession of all my faculties."
He glanced at it briefly.
"In fact, he even goes so far as to say that I am in surprisingly good shape for someone so advanced in years. I'm sure this knowledge is of great comfort to you, Matthew."
There was no mistaking the sarcasm in his voice. You could have heard a pin drop.
"Turning my attention to James first. I know that you have had to deal with some very difficult issues on a personal level and, although you have had to wrestle with your conscience on many occasions, I want you to know that I admire the way in which you have handled these various trials. At every stage you have displayed a level of integrity to which many others would do well to aspire."
James shuffled his feet a little and felt slightly awkward.
"I have therefore made arrangements that, on my death, the sum of five million pounds will be automatically transferred to your bank account. I sincerely hope this will be helpful as you continue to work through the circumstances facing you."
There was another pause. Lord Alfred sat, elbows on his antique writing desk, with chin resting on his upward-pointing fingertips. When he spoke again his voice had a more sombre tone, and had his eyes become just a little glazed?
"I will make no secret of my feelings on this matter: Matthew, my son, despite my highest hopes for you there have been many occasions when you have disappointed me. Yet, I cannot ignore the fact that, come fair wind or foul, you are still part of my family and, even now, I still hope and pray that you will become the fine fellow I always dreamed you to be."
Matthew seemed to visibly relax a little.
"At the same time, I am anxious to do what I can to ensure that my worldly wealth, being of no use to me anymore, is used in a sensible and responsible manner. Therefore, I am making one final and possibly futile attempt to get you to realise the importance of applying yourself to a task and carrying it through to completion. Somehow, I have to make you aware of the rewards that may be won or lost due to your success or failure to do so. And, to that end, I have decided to set a little challenge for you."
Matthew was now on the edge of his seat. So was Charles. The fact that he had already viewed the film in no way detracted from the drama of the situation.
"And, whilst this may come as something of a surprise, I have decided to include you, Charles, in this challenge — that is, if you would like to be involved. I feel that the exemplary quality of your service to me is deserving of some form of… how shall I put it?… acknowledgement."