(10/13) Friends at Thrush Green (26 page)

Well, he thought, as they followed their aged hostesses indoors, maybe it will last the old ladies' time, and then let's hope someone with money, and love, will take it over. On their return to the house, they were met by an untidy figure, who was being divested of her coat by Rosa.

Dotty Harmer had arrived.

'Well, what a lovely surprise!' cried Bertha. They pressed their wrinkled cheeks together. 'We had quite given you up. Tea, Dotty?'

'No, thanks. I've just had a cup with the wire-netting fellow.'

'Then you are in time for a slice of my cake. Do sit down.'

There were general greetings as Dotty handed a small parcel to Bertha who began to unwrap a square jeweller's box with some trepidation. One could never be quite sure of Dotty's offerings; it might well be some rare beetle found in her garden, or a fossil from her father's collection.

Fortunately, the little box contained a brooch, a circle of seed pearls surrounding the letter B in gold.

'But, Dotty,' protested Bertha, suitably touched, 'this is much too valuable to give away. Am I right in thinking it was your mother's?'

'Quite right, Bertha. She was "Beatrix", you know, and I thought it was only right that you should have it.'

'Then thank you
very
much. I shall treasure it.'

She began to pin it on the lapel of the navy silk frock, amidst general admiration.

Rosa now opened the champagne with a suitably celebratory pop and the glasses were filled while Bertha began to cut the cake amid polite cheers. When they were settled, Charles stood up, raised his glass and asked everyone to drink to the health of their good friend Bertha.

'Well,' said that lady when this had been done, 'I suppose I ought to say something.'

'Indeed you should,' said Justin.

'What shall I say? Just how delightful it is to have so many old friends here today. I only wish dear Anthony could have been here too.'

'We all wish that,' said Charles.

'Why
Italy?'
enquired Dotty waving her glass, and splashing Dimity's best dress. 'The food is so indigestible, and the meat so scarce, and really the way they treat their animals is quite appalling. I read only the other day—'

'Dotty, dear!' said Dimity reprovingly, and Dotty subsided.

'I was going to say,' said Bertha, with some hauteur, 'that I particularly wanted Anthony here today as I have a little project of mine to tell you about.'

'About animals?' asked Dotty animatedly.

Charles Henstock began to look alarmed. What on earth was Bertha about to disclose?

'I think we ought to have a proper memorial in the church to celebrate Anthony's ministry here,' announced Bertha.

'His name has been added to the list of vicars on the chancel wall,' interposed Charles gently.

'That's as maybe,' rapped Bertha, who was now trembling with excitement. Two red spots had appeared on her cheeks, and her eyes flashed. Could the champagne have something to do with it, wondered Rosa?

'I intend to leave all my money to St John's, as some of you may know, with directions about the sort of thing I have in mind as a public tribute to dear Anthony.'

'But, Bertha...' protested Justin. He was ignored.

'Something worthy of the man. No piffling little plaque or a pedestal for flowers. I had in mind something in the way of a large stained-glass window, or perhaps a new organ. The present one wheezes dreadfully at times. Most irreligious.'

'Anthony wouldn't want that,' said Dotty. 'He hated any sort of ostentation. You think again, Bertha dear. Give a nice dollop to some charity he suggests. He was always very generous to the RSPCA, I recall.'

This unusually sensible suggestion of Dotty's was met with a murmur of approval from the company. Most of those present were acutely dismayed by Bertha's proposals; Justin, as her solicitor, was frankly appalled, and her two sisters were becoming increasingly distressed as Bertha's agitation grew.

'I shall do exactly as I like,' shouted Bertha, 'with my own money! No-one, not even my own sisters, has really appreciated all that Anthony Bull did for Lulling. I am absolutely adamant that he should be remembered!' She pointed a shaking finger at Justin. 'I shall be in your office tomorrow to alter my will, Justin. If it's the last thing I do, I shall honour dear Anthony with some fitting memorial in the church he served so well.'

She pulled a handkerchief from her pocket, and began to dab at the tears which now coursed down her papery old cheeks.

'So
nobly,'
she added, sniffing. 'With such
distinction
With such
inspiration!'

'There, there!' said Dimity, putting an arm round Bertha's shaking shoulders. 'You are over-tired. It has been a wonderful party, but I feel we should go now.'

Bertha looked about her in a bewildered manner. 'Please do. I can't think why you are all here anyway. Some idea of Violet's, I suppose.'

'Bertha,
please!'
protested Violet and Ada in unison.

'Now what have I said?' demanded Bertha fiercely. 'All I've done is to tell you what I propose to do. Charles knows all about it anyway. I can't understand why you are all so silly. And why have we got this sticky cake for tea? You know I much prefer madeira or seed, Violet. So extravagant!'

By this time, the Venables and Henstocks had risen, and were making their farewells. Ada and Violet, almost in tears themselves, saw them to the door.

'She's simply over-excited,' said Charles to the two agitated sisters. 'Don't worry about it. We've thoroughly enjoyed the party and if I were you I should see that she goes upstairs to rest.'

'You are so understanding,' quavered Ada. 'Do you think she really will buy a stained-glass window, or a new organ?'

'No, I don't,' said Charles. 'Don't think any more about it.' The last thing the departing guests heard as they descended the steps to Lulling High Street was Dotty's voice advising Bertha.

'You'll have the devil of a job getting anything done in the church, Bertha. Consistory courts, ecclesiastical faculties and I don't know what. You spend it on the animals. I can give you the address—'

The closing of the front door terminated Dotty's harangue.

The four old friends were in a state of shock as they walked together to their homes.

The two women were ahead, and discussing anxiously not only Bertha's extraordinary proposal, but also the possibility of a mental breakdown.

Justin and Charles were having their own less feverish conversation.

'An unhappy end to a jolly party,' said Charles.

'As you say,' agreed Justin.

'Is it possible for her to change her will?'

'It's possible,' said Justin, 'but highly unlikely. As you can see, she is quite unstable.'

'I feel so sorry for the other two.'

They kept step with each other, their breath now showing in the chill of evening.

'Did you really know anything about this crazy idea?' asked Justin at length.

'She mentioned it some weeks ago,' said Charles uneasily, 'but I thought it was just a passing whim.'

'I think it is. I don't propose to do anything about it, and I am quite sure she will not turn up at my office. Ada and Violet will see to that, though it's my belief Bertha will have forgotten all about the business by morning. In any case, I can handle all this.'

'Thank heaven for that,' sighed Charles. 'I only hope that Anthony doesn't come to hear of it. The very idea would horrify him. I tremble to think how he might react.'

By now they had reached the Venables' gate and caught up with their ladies.

'You need never tremble on Anthony Bull's behalf,' laughed Justin. 'He can cope with any situation in the world, which is why Bertha admires him so much.'

And on this cheering note, they parted.

19. Several Shocks

THE Lesters returned from Yorkshire looking all the better for their break, but within a week of taking up his teaching duties Alan Lester had been smitten with influenza. Doctor Lovell was called to the school house three days later when it was obvious that something more severe than the usual influenza was involved.

'He won't eat or drink,' Margaret told him agitatedly.

John Lovell surveyed his prostrate patient and felt his stomach. 'It's gastro-enteritis as well as the common bug that's been plaguing us all.'

He left two pills, a prescription, and a stern order 'to keep drinking'. 'And see that he does,' he told Margaret as they went downstairs. 'Don't worry, he's going to be all right in a day or two. I'll be in again tomorrow.'

It was certainly a vicious viral attack, and Alan Lester was too weak at the end of five days to return to work. A supply-teacher, well-known in the district, came to hold the fort until he was fit to resume his duties.

Margaret nursed him diligently, administering pills at the appointed times, making up jugs of lemon barley-water, washing and ironing innumerable pairs of pyjamas, and changing the bed linen.

'I'm afraid she will exhaust herself,' Isobel said to John Lovell when she enquired about his patient. 'She's not a hundred per cent fit herself.'

John Lovell smiled. 'It may be tough luck on Alan,' he said, 'but it's the best possible luck for Margaret at the moment. Concentrating on someone else's trouble is a sure way of forgetting your own.'

In her weekly telephone call to Barton-on-Sea, Isobel told the ladies about the stricken headmaster and Mrs Hill who had come to take his place.

Dorothy Watson was far from pleased when she heard this, and said so to Agnes.

'Well, I only hope she doesn't have too much to do with teaching reading to the younger children. You know how pig-headed she was about the "Look-and-Say" method. That, and that alone! The arguments I had with that woman about the need for using
all
methods! I told her, time and time again, that the children knew the red card said "Stand up" and the blue one said "Go to the door", and the one with the corner off said "Hands on heads", so that the children didn't really
read
them at all. I proved it to her one day, as you may remember.'

'Very well indeed,' said Agnes hoping to stem the flood of outraged memories, but in vain.

'I put the same sentences on the blackboard,' Dorothy continued remorselessly, 'and could those children read them?'

'No, they couldn't,' said Agnes dutifully. 'You certainly proved your point there.'

'I only hope that poor fellow gets back to school before she does
irreparable
harm,' said Dorothy. It was plain that she was still very much The Teacher.

'Would you like me to ring that hotel in Bury St Edmunds? It sounded very pleasant, didn't it?' asked Agnes, changing the subject.

'Yes, that would be kind of you. And if they can't have us, I will try Lavenham tonight.'

Having successfully dislodged Dorothy from her hobbyhorse, Agnes went to the telephone. Really, one trembled for dear Dorothy's blood-pressure at times like this!

It was at about this time that Doreen Lilly was observed in the company of a handsome young man.

Only close neighbours of Gladys and Doreen first noticed him, and he was dismissed as a family friend, a cousin perhaps, or someone breaking his journey from London to the west. As it happened, the last guess was nearest the mark, for the young man was the window cleaner with a mother in Cirencester. He had befriended Doreen in London, where he worked, and had returned her to her mother, with young Bobby, months before. He had called once or twice since then, usually after dark, so that his visits had gone unobserved. Now, it seemed, he was paying the daughter more regular attention.

It was soon common knowledge in Thrush Green, and Jane Cartwright mentioned it to her mother one day.

'Not that Doreen says anything. I never get a squeak out of her, though she is always polite and a very good worker. If anything does come of this, I shall really miss her.'

'I've heard nothing,' said Mrs Jenner, 'but if Gladys Lilly says anything about it, I will let you know.'

'What about Uncle Percy? Do you think he's heard the rumours?'

'I really don't know. Percy's quite old enough to run his own life, and if he's silly enough to imagine a young girl is going to make him a wife, then he should know better. Heaven knows he's been jilted often enough! Look at Emily Cooke! Surely he's learnt his lesson from that affair.'

'I don't think Uncle Percy will ever learn,' said his niece sadly. 'All I know is I'd like to see him settled. He really needs a good wife.'

'Well, that's his problem,' said Mrs Jenner, and the conversation turned to other matters.

The general opinion was that poor old Perce was going to come another cropper, and the situation was observed with some amusement and very little sympathy. Not surprisingly, among the most unfeeling was Albert Piggott. He took it upon himself to find out Percy's reactions to this delicate matter one cold March morning.

The grass of Thrush Green was shivering in an easterly wind, and the rooks above the fields behind The Two Pheasants were being blown about the sky, cawing raucously.

Albert was sipping his half-pint when Percy arrived. The newcomer blew on his fingers and made for the fire.

'Coldest we've had all winter,' he remarked.

Albert nodded. 'Bad weather for lambin',' he rejoined. 'Well, bad for all young things.'

Percy did not respond to this remark, simply ordering a pint from Mr Jones and turning his back to the comfort of the fire.

'I said it was bad weather for
all young things
,' repeated Albert loudly, intent on leading up to the matter he had in mind.

''Tis that,' agreed Percy, collecting his tankard. 'There's a new baby at the Cookes' they say.'

'What
another
? Not your Emily's, I hope?'

Percy began to look irritated, just as Albert intended.

'She's not my Emily, as you well know. And no, it ain't her baby. It's the young sister's, if you must know. And they're both pretty poorly, so I gather.'

'That's bad,' commented Mr Jones, a kindly man.