Authors: Rebecca Shaw

Tags: #Fiction, #General

The Village Newcomers (25 page)

BOOK: The Village Newcomers

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‘We are the players from the Cock and Hen Inn in London and we have come straight from there to entertain Her Majesty with song and dance and a play, and we demand entry.’

‘Absolutely not! Her Majesty the Queen is our honoured guest, and we already have entertainment for her.’

‘
We
have come to entertain her!
We
insist on entering.’

‘You may not. We have musicians, a fool, minstrels and dancers, and we do not need you. Go!’ But they would not take no for an answer.

‘Ask Her Gracious Majesty if we may perform!’ they shouted from the doorway. ‘Beg Her Majesty to allow us in,’ they shouted louder still.

Eventually Jimbo approached the royal table, bowed low and asked if the players might be allowed entry. ‘They are very insistent, Your Majesty.’

In appropriately regal tones Mercedes declared they were to be allowed to perform, whereupon the whole gathering was encouraged to roar their approval.

Then followed a hilarious half-hour of entertainment. One of the songs called ‘The Chastity Belt’ went down famously. It was bawdy but even the most prudish of the guests couldn’t help but join in because it was such fun.

Sylvia said, ‘If I didn’t know different I’d think that singer with the beard was Gilbert Johns. It isn’t, though, is it?’

Willie peered more closely as the singer, accompanied by a lutenist, performing a particularly lewd song came between the tables, and decided that, yes, indeed it was Gilbert Johns.

Sylvia was indignant. ‘And him the church choirmaster. It’s not right. That sanctimonious face he has on Sundays will never be the same again. I shall think of this song every time!’

Then she burst into giggles and so did Maggie. Then the people around them began to laugh uncontrollably and Maggie fell off the bench on to the floor, where she lay giggling helplessly, and they had to leave her there because they couldn’t get her up.

Then the strolling players began seeking out guests to participate in the entertainment. They chose mostly young people who were eager to take part, and they were gathered together to sing the chorus while one of the actors performed a song.

Unsuspectingly, Peter commented to Caroline how quickly the chosen guests picked up the words and the actions they had to perform. As he watched, there was something about one of them which he recognised . . . it couldn’t be, could it?

Caroline realised, too. ‘Peter! It’s Jake!’

‘I’ve just noticed.’

‘I told Beth he mustn’t come. He’s no business here.’

‘How has she got him in?’

Caroline shook her head. ‘I am very angry about this. I told Beth no, but she wanted him to, said how much more she’d enjoy herself if he was here.’ Then she spotted Beth, but Beth had eyes for no one but Jake, and no wonder. He looked absolutely splendid, as though he’d stepped through the centuries straight from Elizabethan times, and when the strolling players picked him out to take a bigger part in the drama they were doing, Beth’s face glowed with pride.

‘I’m ignoring this until we get home.’

Maggie picked herself up from the floor and rather dazedly sat down again on the bench. ‘I feel terrible.’

Georgie patted her arm. ‘Never mind. It’ll soon pass. Just sit tight.’

Finally the strolling players took their leave, but one of the women tried to take Jake with her, saying, with a lot of hip-waggling and daring glances, that he could share her caravan. Before they knew it there was a commotion, and the woman was brought before Mercedes.

‘Wench! How dare you take away one of my gentlemen of the court? It is against my express wishes. Well? What have you to say for yourself?’

The wench flung herself to the floor and begged the Queen’s pardon. ‘Your Gracious Majesty, excuse a poor girl who has no man of her own. You must agree he is delicious.’

‘Away with her to the gallows! Immediately!’

But the Earl of Leicester got to his feet, reeling slightly with the mead he’d consumed. ‘Your most Gracious Majesty! I pray your indulgence. May I plead for her life? She is but a girl.’

‘More than any girl, Lord Robert, if she fancies him for her bed. Stand forward, youth!’

There was nothing Jake could do but go forward. He was prodded into bowing low to the Queen. ‘Your Majesty.’

‘Have you a maiden of your own?’

Jake was dumbstruck and the first person to come into his head was Beth.

‘Indeed I have, Your Majesty.’

‘Bring her to me.’

Jake, bowing low, stepped away, took hold of Beth’s hand, even though she resisted him, and pulled her reluctantly in front of the Queen.

‘A comely maiden, indeed. See, my honoured guests, what a treasure she is. Do not fear, maiden, I mean you no harm. This youthful lad has no need of a trollop when he has this comely maiden to bed.’ She turned to her guests. ‘Shall I save the life of this trollop? Yea or nay?’

All the guests, fully into the spirit of the whole evening roared. ‘Yea!’

Beth shrank back to her place, followed by Jake, who was laughing.

‘Oh, Jake, don’t laugh. Please, don’t laugh. Dad’s furious.’

‘It was only fun.’

‘He doesn’t think so. I’ve never seen him so angry.’

Sounding far more confident than he really was, Jake told her he’d speak to Peter afterwards and make everything all right.

Immediately, so there was no gap in the entertainment, the Morris dancers came in, tambourines crashing, bells jingling, sticks clashing, and the whole of the barn was taken over again. More mead flowed, the crowd grew merrier, Beth calmed down and began to enjoy herself again, and before they knew it the clock was chiming midnight.

All the guests milled out through the huge main doors, laughing and joking, filled to the brim with food, their heads full of all the exciting things that had happened that night. Some, like Maggie, were unsteady on their feet due to the consumption of too much mead; others were wildly delighted by the whole evening and voluble in their praise.

‘Best night we’ve ever had in Turnham Malpas.’

‘Even Craddock Fitch can’t compete with this.’

‘It’s made me really glad that Merc and Ford have come to live here!’

‘I could come again next Saturday!’

This last comment was overheard by Jimbo, who, shattered though he was, took note and decided to go ahead with his idea to launch Elizabethan banquets for the general public. After all, it had been a wild success. He owed a lot to the Barclays, and he gave Merc a huge kiss as she and Ford thanked him for the wild success the evening had been.

Craddock Fitch complimented Ford and Mercedes openly and willingly, and Ford was delighted by his enthusiasm.

‘I tell you what, Ford, do you play golf?’ Craddock added.

‘Of course. A golf club is a marvellous place for meeting the right kind of people when you’re in business.’

‘Exactly. I play golf, more for relaxation than anything, only a middling handicap, but would you enjoy a game with me?’

‘I would.’

‘Well, then, when I’ve had a chance to check my diary I’ll give you a ring.’

‘Wonderful. And thanks for coming.’

‘Well, it was a very good night. Thanks for the invitation.’

Kate Fitch got a kiss on both cheeks as she added her thanks, but when she and Craddock walked across the park back to Turnham House she questioned his enthusiasm.

Aware she was far too curious about his motives, and even though he’d enjoyed himself far more than he had imagined he would, he feigned surprise at her question. ‘Of course I enjoyed it. In fact, I’ve suggested he has a game of golf with me.’

Kate stopped, took hold of his arm and made him face her. ‘Craddock, what are you up to?’

‘Me? Nothing. Just being civil, a good neighbour, you know the kind of thing.’

‘No, I do not. You
are
up to something.’

‘Certainly not. Come on, let’s get to bed. I need a good cuddle from the best wife in the world.’ He put his arm round her waist and hugged her close.

In the darkness she couldn’t see the half-smile on his lips.

In the Rectory things were not quite so harmonious. Peter was stupendously angry.

‘But, Dad, please, it’s only for the one night. I thought Jake could sleep in the guest bedroom, you see. He’s gone into the back garden to wheel his bike round ready for leaving, but please, let him stay. It’s a long way to go in the dark.’

It was becoming embarrassing for Beth now. She wished she’d asked her dad days ago and then there would not have been this fuss, but then he’d have known that Jake was planning to sneak in without an invitation, so that would have been hopeless.

‘No, he may not. Absolutely not. He cannot have one scrap of respect for you doing what he did, not one scrap, and I’m deeply grieved over it all. Every person there knows who you are and—’

‘So? I don’t care what people think—’

‘You not caring has nothing to do with it, and well you know it. What has made me so angry is the fact that you talked to your mum about it, she said he mustn’t come as he hadn’t been invited, and yet the two of you planned for him to sneak in. What has made me even angrier still is the episode of him getting involved with the strolling players and you being pointed out as his . . . well, to put it bluntly, his tart, in front of everybody. That I am very angry about, Beth. You have a reputation to keep and tonight yours is in shreds.’ He stabbed the air with his forefinger to emphasise his point.

‘Dad! For goodness’ sake, it was all make-believe. It wasn’t
real
.’

‘The whole evening was pretence but so well done it
felt
extraordinarily real. I am mortified about the whole matter. It is disgraceful and it’ll be a while before I recover from it. Your mother feels exactly the same. I cannot imagine what people will be saying about you and Jake . . . Is he ashamed of what he did? I guess not.’

Beth had never seen her father so angry. In fact, she didn’t know he had it in him. She began to shake with fright over it all and to wish she’d never agreed to bring Jake to the banquet. She’d done it all for love, yet it didn’t appear to have worked out as she’d wished.

There was a knock at the front door.

Peter flung it open. ‘Jake! You’re ready for off, I see. Excuse me from driving you home. I have an early start with it being Sunday, and I’ve drunk too much mead to be driving. You enjoyed yourself?’

‘Enormously, thank you, sir. I’m sorry about what I did. It’s not what you would have wanted for Beth, I realise that now. I owe both you and Doctor Harris an apology.’ He glanced at Beth and saw she looked frightful.

‘How right you are, Jake. I would have thought you would have treated her with rather more respect. Goodnight. You have a lamp on your bike, I hope?’

‘Yes, thank you, sir. Goodnight. Goodnight, Beth.’

After he’d gone Beth decided on contrition. ‘I’m deeply sorry Dad about what happened. It’s all my fault. I should never have agreed to bring him. I just so much wanted him . . . to be there, I mean, and it all went wrong. Please can I apologise to you, and to Mum for disobeying her.’

His temper spent, Peter accepted her apology. ‘That young man needs watching, Beth. He hasn’t had the upbringing that you’ve had . . .’

Beth sneered, ‘Oh, I see. He’s working class so he’s not allowed?’

Caroline stepped in. ‘Stop! Before you say too much, just go to bed.’

Beth opened her mouth to add something else, but Caroline put her finger on Beth’s lips to silence her. ‘Do as I say! Now! Before it’s too late.’

BOOK: The Village Newcomers

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