With the real copy of the will in hand, Father immediately went to find Marsh so he could get the car ready. Luckily, he had returned from taking Uncle Christopher into the city and had gone to the kitchen for tea, biscuits, and a place to stay before we needed to drive back to the city before seven. Father had him prepare the car for our journey and within five minutes of finding the will, we were on our way into London.

I sat at the back with my crutches resting on the floor, Mother beside me, and my left leg bouncing up and down with anxiety. Since everything had happened so fast, I hadn't even had the chance to change out of my school dress yet. We looked like a sorry sight with me in my uniform, Father with his sleeves pushed up to his elbows and his jacket missing, and Mother with hair pinned up in a loose bun that had started to spill spirals of hair down her back. I had to hope that the evidence we had would stand up since our appearance wouldn't.

The drive into the city felt like it took longer than usual. Eventually, the trees gave way to the brick buildings of the city, but we still had a little while to go until we reached Mr Greenway's office. Father looked at his watch on a regular basis and I could see him drumming his fingers on the side of the car. Everything relied on this visit to Mr Greenway's office and we had to pray we had enough to prove that the will had been fake.

When we reached the office, I climbed out of the car but hesitated on the front steps, unsure if Father really wanted me to go in there. He might have agreed to let me go with them to the office, but that didn't mean I would be allowed in as our case was put forward. He didn't let me in last time.

"Izzy? What's wrong?" Father asked when he saw me hesitating at the bottom step.

"Are you sure you want me to come with you? I mean, last time I wasn't allowed in the office and this feels like an adult meeting," I said.

"You're coming with us, Izzy. Without you, we never would have found the will and we never would have thought to check the signatures. You're the one who was so adamant about all of this and I think you have a right to follow it through the end."

"Your father's right. You'll be better at this than either of us."

"Alright." I nodded my head.

"Let's go."

I took a deep breath and followed Mother and Father up the concrete steps with my crutches. The palms of my hands felt sweaty against the wood of the crutch, but I tried to ignore it as best I could. My heart hammered away in my chest, the same way it had when I stood at the pond on Sunday, but I knew it was for a different reason. I didn't feel angry, all that anger had dissipated when I spoke to Father, instead the bubbles were made of fear.

Our future rested on my shoulders and whether or not I could convince Uncle Christopher's friend that we were right about the will. It all came down to me and how well I could put forward an argument that I hadn't even had the chance to practice yet. I would have to go in there with absolute certainty in what I was saying without any way for someone to find fault in what I had to see.

It all came down to me and I was terrified.

Father knocked at the front door and we stood on the top step and waited for it to open. A young woman opened the door and gestured us inside without so much as a word, she no doubt knew why there would be visitors on a Thursday evening. The hallway was basked in yellow light from the electric lights on the walls and some of the floorboards creaked underfoot. I could hear my heart thumping away in my chest and wondered if anyone else could hear it too.

"Ah, Robert. Have you come to return what is rightfully mine?" Grandmother asked when Father stepped through another door and into Mr Greenway's office.

"Not quite, Mother," he said.

"Well, your time is running out and if you are not out of the house by seven, I am legally allowed to fetch the Constable. You only have fifteen minutes."

"Plenty of time." Father smiled and I could see in the way that Grandmother furrowed her eyebrows that she was confused.

"How is your ankle?" Aunt Matilda asked when she saw me standing near the entrance. She had a smile on her face and I knew she enjoyed the pain she had caused.

"Just fine, thank you. No serious damage."

A man cleared his throat and I turned my head to look at the large oak desk that sat at the end of the room. Sat behind it was a man with sandy-blonde hair and a clean-shaven chin. He had a menacing look in his eye and seemed somewhat annoyed that we were not yet ready to hand the house over.

"If you are not ready to hand over the keys, as is your legal obligation, may I ask what you are doing here?" he said.

"Izzy? Would you like to explain our most recent discovery?"

My hands shook and I found myself readjusting my grip on the crutches more than perhaps necessary. I didn't feel like I could speak, the words became jammed in my throat and no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't get them out.

What if I messed up?

What if I ruined this for everyone?

Too many possibilities were relying on me getting these words right, on saying the right thing to ensure our case had been made in the correct fashion. With our debate at school, we had been given plenty of time to practice but this felt like I had pushed into a fight with my hands tied behind my back. I had no idea what I was doing or how to say what I needed to without ruining everything.

It was all too much.

I took a shaky breath, trying to calm my heartbeat down but it only seemed to go faster. My chest squeezed and it felt like someone had tied a piece of rope and had started to pull it tighter and tighter until I thought I would pop. I couldn't do it.

Across the room, Grandmother laughed and I glanced over at her. The smirk on her face had been enough to wake something that had been sitting dormant inside my chest. Those few anger bubbles about the loss of the house appeared and rose to the surface. They mingled with the bubbles of nervousness already sitting in my chest and I knew what I had to do.

"The will you currently hold in your position, Mr Greenway, is not the most recent version, although I'm sure you already know that," I said.

"What is this nonsense? You send a child in here to accuse me of falsehoods and misrepresentation of my client's wishes?"

"It is not nonsense, Sir." Father handed me the will from the start of the month and I placed it on the desk in front of Mr Greenway who turned as white as a sheet. "This is the will that my grandfather, Doctor Albert Ealing, signed at the start of the month. As you no doubt know, the will you possess is dated February. Were it not a forgery in its own right, the will dated February would be invalid due to it not being the most recent piece of documentation pertaining to my grandfather's belongings."

"And how am I to know that that is a legitimate copy of a will? As Doctor Ealing's lawyer, I can state with absolute certainty that I have never seen that will before and is not something I know my client to have written."

"Except it is signed by you and, since you took most of Grandfather's legal work before either will had been discovered, we can be confident in the knowledge that that is in fact your signature and not a forgery." I cleared my throat. "Perhaps you would like to prove the legitimacy of the will by signing your name a few times, for comparison purposes."

"I will not be told what to do by a child! You insolent little creature. Did your parents not teach you manners?"

"My son and his wife have always walked a fine line when it comes to respecting their elders and betters, Mr Greenway. There is little doubt in my mind that they passed that behaviour onto their child," Grandmother said. "It appears they are teaching her to lie now too."

A few more of those anger bubbles rose to the surface and I flexed my hands against the crutches before grabbing them again. My mind spun faster and faster as I tried to come up with a brand new avenue for our argument, but everything that I could say had been said. I didn't have the authority to ask to see the February will and Uncle Christopher had taken Grandfather's documentation with him. We had no other argument without him.

Just as the thought crossed my mind and Mr Greenway went to speak again - most likely to throw us from his office - the front door opened. The sound of voices travelled from the hall as the woman who allowed us entrance the building tried to stop whoever had entered from walking into the meeting. She failed in a few short seconds, Uncle Matthew appeared at the door with the documentation in hand and his friend close by.

Mr Greenway pulled a face and I could see anger rising in his cheeks, their colour turning from pale to bright red with frustration. He didn't expect the meeting to go this way. I turned away from Mr Greenway and hopped towards Uncle Matthew and his friend who was talking to Mother and Father, all of their heads bowed low.

"-If you can prove that the signature is false, we have a case. Without it, he can claim forgery of the newest will," Uncle Christopher's friend said.

"Which he has already done," I said.

"Then we need to see the will he has, compare the signatures. Who is leading this?"

"I believe that is Isabel." Uncle Christopher looked at me." Do you think you can keep going? This is your case after all."

"I can try."

"You're doing great, Izzy. It'll be fine."

I nodded my head and turned away, approaching the desk once more with Uncle Christopher shaking the documentation and handing a few sheets to his friend.

"You have five minutes to hand me the keys to Doctor Ealing's property or I will be calling for the Constable. This is a waste of my time, all these baseless accusations."

"Mr Greenway, can I see the will that you believe to be the real one?" I asked.

"You do not have the authority to see such a document."

"No, but I do," Uncle Christopher's friend said. "Mr Adam Dietrich, solicitor of law specialising in wills and family court. As an impartial person, I have a right to review all material pertaining to this case and any possible instances that would render a will invalid."

Mr Greenway huffed like a child and started to root through his desk until he found the correct piece of paper. He handed it to me and I made my way back to Uncle Christopher and Mr Dietrich who were both holding documentation belonging to Grandfather.

I looked at the signature on the will that Mr Greenway had handed over and the documentation that we already had at our disposal. On first viewing, there didn't appear to be that big of a difference between the documentation, but the closer one looked, the more obvious they became. Small things, such as the way Grandfather would write his surname or the small dots he made for certain letters. The mistakes were there if one looked for them.

"It's fake," I said. "At least regarding Grandfather's signature. When compared to the documentation we already have, it is clear that Grandfather did not sign this sheet of paper. For one, the 'g' at the end of his surname has an open-loop whilst on every other piece of documentation, the loop is closed. He also never joins up the letter 'b' in his first name which has been joined on this document. The signature is fake, making the will invalid."

"She's a child, she doesn't know what she's talking about!" Grandmother protested. Her face had also turned a lovely shade of red.

"No, but I do," Mr Dietrich said, "and she's right. The signature is wrong. Per the Wills Act of 1837, a will that is not signed by the Testator themselves is invalid and, as this document was not signed by the late Doctor Ealing, it is now invalid. That, and I do not believe that the late Thomas Cromwell, Secretary of State to Henry VIII in the 1500s was a witness to the signing of this document."

"What about the other will? The one on the desk?" Father asked, nudging his head towards it.

Mr Dietrich walked over to it and picked it up, comparing the signature to that of the others. "This one appears legitimate. I am sure we will be able to find the witnesses, both of whom are listed here, to confirm. We can probably confirm that Doctor Ealing signed two versions of this will, the second one having mysteriously disappeared under your nose, Mr Greenway."

"What are you insinuating?"

"Nothing, yet. For the time being, the handing over of Doctor Ealing's property will have to wait until I can confirm the legitimacy of the most recently dated will. No keys will be handed over today."

Father breathed a sigh of relief and chuckled a little whilst Grandmother looked ready to slap someone. Regardless of how she might have been feeling, we may have just saved Grandfather's home.

~~~

A/N - We are back with Chapter Thirty-One! There are only 4 chapters left before Will and Testament ends! So close to the end all ready!

Questions! How do you feel about Izzy stepping up to the plate? Do you think she'll make a good lawyer?

Comment below!

First Published - November 23rd, 2021