The Reaper

war when they had bins in the street for collecting waste food for pigs. Pig-bins, they were called. Someone was tipping up the bins at night, looking for scraps, or something, and making a disgusting mess. The village bobby lay in wait and caught one of the local youths in the act. Grabbed him by the collar and marched him straight to his parents' house, woke them up and ordered the father to thrash his son's bare backside in front of the entire family, little sisters as well.'

'It sounds a bit extreme,' said the shopkeeper, Davy Todd. 'He was probably hungry. It weren't as if he was robbing anyone.

'It taught him a valuable lesson,' Cynthia said in a way that defied anyone to argue. 'I often think of it.'

Davy Todd made no comment.

'It didn't do much good,' an old woman piped up from behind the greetings cards. 'If that's Bobby Hughes you're speaking of, he's done three stretches since for robbery with violence. He's coming up to seventy and he's never learned.'

'Some folk think we should bring back the stocks,' said Davy Todd. 'Not to mention the ducking-stool.'

Cynthia took this as personal and left.

Stanley found the rector at home when he called at lunchtime.

Otis Joy invited him in and put a supportive arm around his shoulders. 'I heard what happened yesterday. Devastating. What's the world coming to?'

He went to a cupboard in his office and poured a couple of whiskies.

Stanley wasn't there for small talk. He stated his decision. 'The burglary is a great shock. I'm afraid it's altered everything, Rector. My confidence has gone. Someone younger must take over.'

Joy was unprepared for this. 'Don't say that, Stanley. We can't let them win.'

'It's brought me to my senses. Stupid old buffer, thinking I can do the job until I pass away. I'm a security risk at my age.'

Joy leaned forward, concerned, without any show of alarm. 'You didn't lose any church money?'

'No, it was all my own,' Stanley said, sending up a prayer to be forgiven.

'Because if you did, I'll gladly make it up from the contingency fund. That's what it's for.'

A shake of the head from Stanley.

'In fact, I'd like to help you anyway,' Joy decently offered. 'How much did you lose?'

Stanley blinked, shocked by the suggestion. 'That's church money. I'm not here for help, Rector. I just want to tender my resignation.'

'This minute?' Now Joy's voice had a suggestion of panic. He took a slug of whisky.

They talked on for some time, with Stanley resisting every appeal to reconsider.

'Well, I'll have to think,' said the young rector, 'and, er…'

'Pray?'

'Good thought. Yes, pray. Coming out of the blue like this, it's a shock, a real facer. We're going to need time to find the right man or woman. That won't be easy.'

'There are plenty of able people,' Stanley pointed out. 'All you want is someone with a grasp of elementary accounting and a commitment to the church. I can say from experience, it's commonsense stuff.'

'That may be so, but the choice is crucial. The whole thing will have to go through the PCC.' Otis Joy rolled his eyes upwards. 'And then there's the problem of handing over.'

'There's no problem.'

'I can't agree. If we do appoint someone else, they'll need to learn our ways of doing things.'

'What do you mean, Rector?'

Otis Joy cleared his throat. 'How we deal with my petty cash claims, for instance. You and I have an understanding, but a new treasurer may be uncomfortable with it.'

'The Building Society account?'

'The contingency fund, yes.'

'I'm sure whoever takes over will see the sense in it. A slight diversion from the norm, but good for the church, our church, anyway. I'll explain it fully when I hand over the books. I believe in giving it to them straight, and I'm sure you agree.'

Joy didn't agree at all. The prospect of a new treasurer was alarming enough, and Stanley giving it to them straight would be calamitous. He was deeply perturbed. He could see everything unravelling. 'It's not so simple.'

'Why?' said Stanley.

'We don't know who they might appoint. It could be someone who doesn't appreciate the advantages of the fund.'

Stanley shook his head. 'Why shouldn't they? If they can't allow a man of the church some discretion what's the world coming to? I'm very clear about this, Rector. It doesn't matter a bean who takes over. I'm honour bound to show him the accounts in full, including your statements from the building society.'

'I don't keep them.'

'You don't?' Stanley blinked and stared.

'Have I committed a faux pas? I told you I'm hopeless with money.'

Stanley Had turned a deep shade of pink. 'I expect it's all right. No doubt it's all on computer somewhere. The new treasurer must have chapter and verse on everything we've done. You do see that?'

'In time, yes, but…'

'No, Rector. Forgive me, but this is an accounting matter. The handover is when you open the books and explain everything.'

'But this doesn't have to be an overnight thing. We'll need a transition. A few months of working together.'

'No. My mind is made up. A clean break. I'm through with the job. It's better for the new person to start without me looking over his shoulder.'

Most people can be charmed, persuaded or threatened out of an unwise decision. There are just a few who are totally intractable.

'Even so,' said Joy, realising he'd lost this one.

'Look at it this way,' said Stanley. 'If I dropped dead tomorrow, you'd be forced to appoint someone else.'

Otis Joy sighed heavily. 'And I thought We had years ahead of us.' He took Stanley's glass to the cupboard and refilled it.

Stanley died in bed that night.

Five

He was not found for two days. People came to the cottage, got no answer and went away. The paper-boy unthinkingly pushed the previous morning's Daily Telegraph through the letterbox to make way for the next one. The meter reader from SWEB made a note that this quarter would be another estimated reading. Bill Armistead, local organiser of Neighbourhood Watch, calling to offer sympathy about the break-in, assumed Stanley was having a lie-in. Even the police knocked at the door to check details of the stolen property and went away without doing anything.

The irony of all this was that the back door remained unlocked. Anyone could have walked in.

Finally the publican at the Foxford Arms remarked that Stanley hadn't been in for his usual for a couple of lunchtimes and Peggy Winner, who lived opposite, said she'd noticed his bedroom curtains had remained drawn. The publican said someone had better get over to the cottage and see if the old boy was all right.

Bill Armistead went around to the back door and walked in. Upstairs he found Stanley Burrows dead in bed. The doctor, when he came, confirmed that death must have been at least thirty-six hours earlier because the effect