A figure at the church - Part 1

"Brother"

"What are you doing here? You left me there without a word"

I thanked the old man one last time and went towards him at the door.

"And to think I have no coins with me to pay for the jewels I bought, I forgot I came with none"

"Come, I have some coins with me"

We went out of that side of the market to pay for the necklace and bangles and then went further to a small bar at the market to drink.

"Now, isn't this delightful?" He said when he drank the ale we had ordered.

"It is" I replied.

The bar was a small and local one filled with men drinking, a candle was lit on each table to give light as the day would soon begin to darken. The loud talk, laughs, and the clicking of glasses filled the whole room.

"... At Rearwood hall"

Our attention was instantly drawn to a group of men by the side discussing.

"She is a beauty still," the first man said.

"But one to be scared of." another added. "She only comes to this side of the market at night, I watch her from my windows to notice anything but unfortunately I end up admiring her fine walks instead of finding out anything at all!"

They burst into a loud laughter.

"I heard she is widowed" one shared.

"That means I can try to court her, Mm?" the first man shared secretly as he leaned towards them on the table.

"She is going to kill you with a flick of her fingers," Another said.

"As what?" His bushy brows furrowed.

"Who knows? A being that walks only at night, what would you call it Eh?….,

I turned to find Dennis as attentive as I was.

I cleared my throat. "Isn't she quite famous?"

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Is everything they are saying true?"

I shrugged.

"I can't suspect that woman" he shook his head as if shaking off the thoughts. "She looks quite pure and kind and….. oh, don't give me that look"

"What look?" I raised my brows and went ahead to drink from the glass. "Looks can be deceiving" I muttered.

He scoffed. "I refuse to think of any wicked thing regarding her, I will take her the way I see her"

"Fine." I dropped the cup back on the table. "Even I, I'm trying hard not to think, but these things we hear now and from other people are giving me more thoughts than necessary." I rested on the wooden chair. "Can we trust this woman?"

"Not everyone would be Mrs lakes" He commented and it came flashing back.

Mrs. Lakes was our well-trusted housekeeper before father's death. We trusted her so much and loved her as our parents did.

But would you believe that on that night, when father was stabbed Mrs Lakes was nowhere to be seen. I had gone to her room that night to call and knock but to my surprise, I found the door wide open and empty, our house keys were the only things on the dirt floors. She left. That night! With no information or reason. As the parish bell began to ring and echo throughout the whole vicinity, the guardsmen came and were informed and they went in search of the killer who we were sure was in a black cloak and had run through the field. With the information, they ran along the possible routes the person must have taken.

We waited in earnest and in tears watching Father's body in the pool of his blood. What could more traumatizing than that? I couldn't cry, I couldn't speak. I only watched the servants of the house wail along with my mother and my brother. I still couldn't believe it.

After hours in that early morning, I sat at the stairs of the house in anticipation of what they would find. The men only came back with a little brown diary. One I was very familiar with. It was Mrs. Lake's.

I won't forget that little book even in my dreams. It was always in her hands as she went about the daily duties in the mansion and I practically followed this woman everywhere as I child. She was a humorous, kind woman with the gentlest of nature. I had once asked what she wrote in there and she answered that she recorded all the thoughts she couldn't voice out loud in there and warned me specifically not to ever take a peek at it whenever I came to her room.

I was in front of the house and was the first to take the diary from them and to date it was still in my hands.

Now, what did that tell you? Who murdered my father?

The content of that little brown diary confirmed it all.

So, you see, I do not judge Mrs Williams for no reason but for a tangible one. Her nature was a serious case to be doubted. In reminiscence of the past event, it was making it hard to ever trust that lady now, and even sooner.

"You don't know that" I replied. "Humans are hard cases to study. The heart… is like a secret bag, each man and his own" I ran my fingers over the edge of the glass. "We can only give her the benefit of the doubt"

He nodded.

Before we arrived back at the parish it had grown dark and we padded the horses sharing Little chats. I laughed as he spoke something funny about our childhood, but the laugh soon dissolved when I saw the silhouette of a person in a cloak heading down to the church. I checked my pocket watch in the moonlight. It was almost eleven o'clock.

I stopped and told Dennis I would be going to see the vicar. He looked at me as if I had lost a head.

"What?" I asked.

"When did you become fond of the man to the extent of visiting him? You never visited him." He scrutinized me. "Are you in your right senses?" The smile was widening on his face but this was not the time.

"I am very much in my senses, thank you very much, now go, I will see you"

"Wait Eugene!" His laughter echoed in the night as I kicked his horse and it rode up the hills. He waved at me from the back.

I watched till he went far enough and then turned towards the path of the church. And to think the person held no lamp. Wonders shall never end with this kind of human.

I saw the person enter the church and I got down and tied the horse to a tree down the side where it could not be seen and went inside the church whose doors were wide open as always.

Once I entered the dark church having only one or two candles lit at the rows as light, I saw the figure knelt at the altar murmuring prayers.

Wasn't that a sight?

I silently took a seat at a pew nearer but a bit farther from the altar. I sat at the farthest end of the wall which was shady so I couldn't be easily seen.

A few minutes after the murmurings of prayers or incantations (it could be anything!). She stood and made a sign of the cross. Done with it she turned to leave but she froze when she saw my figure at the pew.

I must look like a devil in the night staring at her in that manner or catching her off at such an edge.

"Good evening, Mrs Williams" My voice echoed in the church.