A Village Dilemna (Turnham Malpas 09) (11 page)

To emphasise his support of the dig Mr Fitch turned up at Deadman’s Dell the same afternoon. He’d forgotten how distant and unmoved by money or titles Gilbert could be and he was received with no more ceremony than the local dustcart operator. This riled him and when he bent to pick up one of the bones with his bare hands intending to examine it, he received one of Gilbert’s broadsides. ‘Put that down immediately. Have you no sense, man? They’ve not to be touched.’

‘Have you? Too late. I’ve got your letter saying we can.’

‘I can withdraw it.’

‘You might be interested to know I’ve got the
Culworth Gazette
coming this afternoon. They should be here any minute.’ Gilbert, head down, squatting in a shallow trench, smiled to himself.

Mr Fitch didn’t answer. He watched the delicate process of removing earth from around a find, the gentle scraping away, the sensitive handling of the minutest scrap of material and became absorbed: the quiet throb of excitement was palpable. Just as he crouched down to get a closer look at something one of the students had found, the photographer and a reporter from the
Gazette
arrived. ‘Excellent, Mr Fitch, stay right there and I’ll take a picture.’ The camera clicked and whirred, and Mr Fitch pointed and smiled until his knees gave out and he had to stand up.

‘We understand you’re funding this dig, Mr Fitch?’ the reporter asked.

‘Well, not exactly but … should the occasion arise I would be more than willing. Such happenings as this are very important to an ancient village like this one and if money can help in any way then I’m your man.’

‘Excellent!’ He scribbled on his notepad.

The reporter addressed Gilbert’s back. ‘Mr Johns, isn’t it?’

Gilbert looked up and nodded. ‘That’s me.’

Bryn, when he came back from Bath, was horrified to discover how frightened the village was about the dig. There were now four of the Prior granddaughters suffering from severe chickenpox. The teachers at the school were finding their class numbers dwindling daily until, on the morning Bryn returned, only three-quarters of the school was present.

Beth and Alex were disappointed to discover they’d had chickenpox quite badly when they were very small, so their chances of being away from school for a couple of weeks were very slim.

Beth asked, ‘Were we properly poorly, Mummy?’

‘Very. Your spots were so close together I couldn’t find a space to put my finger.’

‘Really? Mum, did we have a temperature?’ Alex remembered having a severe sore throat when he was eight and how funny his head had felt and how hot he’d been.

‘You did. Daddy couldn’t bath you, because he couldn’t bear to see your spots.’

‘You bathed us, though, didn’t you, Mummy?’

Caroline nodded. ‘I did indeed, Beth, just to help you stop itching. We used bottles and bottles of calamine to cool your spots down. You even had spots in your ears.’

Beth contemplated the thought and said sadly, ‘So there’s no chance of us getting it, then?’

‘None, I would have thought.’

‘Of course not.’

Alex said, ‘They’re blaming Dad.’

‘Are they?’

‘Yes, they say he shouldn’t have said what he did about a service.’

‘Are they?’

‘I nearly had a fight about Dad, Mum, in the playground yesterday.’

‘I hope you didn’t?’

‘No, but I wanted to.’

‘Well, don’t. Please. It will all calm down in a day or two, you’ll see.’

Quite out of context Beth remarked, ‘Janine nearly got run over yesterday.’

Caroline broke off from clearing the table to say, ‘Where?’

‘Outside school, before school began. She wasn’t being silly. There was a terrible screech of brakes.’

Alex said, ‘There was, Mum, she isn’t exaggerating. Poor Janine. They had to let her lie down for a while.’

‘I’ll leave this and go with you to school. It’s getting beyond a joke, all those cars.’

When Bryn next went into the Royal Oak, Georgie refused to serve him. ‘I’m sorry, Bryn, but that is my decision. You are banned.’ She stood, arms crossed, and waited for him to go.

But he didn’t. He leaned on the bar counter and said confidentially, ‘If Dicky hadn’t come back the other night you know exactly where we would have been and don’t try to tell me we wouldn’t.’

‘But he did and we didn’t, and I don’t want to, and you cause him too much upset and you’re not welcome in this bar.’

Bryn tried putting on the charm. ‘Come on, I’m not that bad. You were very close to me that night. Closer than we’ve been for years.’ He leant over the bar and put a gentle hand on her arm. ‘I rather thought you liked the new me.’

Georgie hesitated. He was right there, but … ‘I don’t, not at all, and buzz off or …’

‘You wouldn’t call the police, now would you?’

‘Just go, before Dicky comes in.’

‘Sir Galahad to the rescue, eh?’

‘Do as I say.’ At this point Alan came up from the cellar, saw Bryn, put down the crate of lagers, did a swift about turn and disappeared. He’d been told not to interfere so he wouldn’t even give himself the chance.

‘Just serve me a whisky and I’ll be gone.’

‘No. Alan, come please!’

‘No. Alan!’

‘Can I have a meal in the dining room?’

Georgie almost relented and opened her mouth to say it was all right but changed her mind. ‘No. Now shift yourself or I really will call the police.’

‘And there I thought you and I were business partners.’

‘I promised Dicky …’

‘Oh, well, if it was only that little squirt you promised that means nothing …’

‘Right, that’s it. Out!’ Georgie started to walk round the end of the bar, calling ‘Alan!’ as she did so.

‘OK! OK! I’ll be off. How long am I banned for?’

She couldn’t resist his chirpy smile nor the wink he gave her. She’d meant to ban him until his group came in August but she hadn’t the heart. ‘One week.’

‘Right! Jug and Bottle here I come.’

Someone sitting at a table shouted, ‘Watch out for that barmaid with the chestnut-coloured hair. She’ll have anyone in trousers, she will.’

Bryn gave a thumbs up and went out with a final wink at Georgie, who was already regretting banning him. Alan appeared again as though by magic and she took her anger with herself out on him. ‘Where the blazes have you been? I wanted you to help turn Bryn out and I called but you didn’t come.’

‘You told me I wasn’t to interfere in your private life again, so I didn’t.’

Dicky walked in to begin his evening stint behind the bar and immediately her heart burst with love. Of course this was him, the man of her heart. They didn’t kiss in public but she wanted to so much. That divorce. She’d put things in motion immediately. First thing tomorrow. Dicky smiled at her with such love in his eyes and unknowingly his smile strengthened her resolve.

Unusually for them, Jimbo came in with his mother. Several people called out to him asking how Harriet and Fran were. ‘Beginning to turn the corner, thanks. A slight improvement. We’ve just popped out to celebrate Mother’s birthday. Can’t stay long.’

The two of them chose a quiet table and Jimbo went to order their drinks. The flow of conversation went back and forth around the tables, people came and people went.

When Jimbo returned to their table with the drinks, Mrs Charter-Plackett said quietly, ‘I see Bryn isn’t in tonight.’

Jimbo raised his glass to her. ‘Happy birthday, Mother, and many of them.’

‘Thank you, you darling boy. I’m so proud of you, so proud.’

‘And I of you. Still so full of spark and energy.’

‘Less of the “still”. I’m not that old!’

‘Of course not. Of course not.’

‘This business of the Dell. I see they were digging again today. Craddock Fitch was there too.’

‘Blast that man. Thank heavens he didn’t marry Harriet’s mother. I couldn’t be so vituperative about him if he had. He is so
rude
, in a way which leaves one with no alternative but to be very rude back. Which I was. I even said if he got run over by a bus I wouldn’t send him a get well card.’

Jimbo laughed. ‘It was a close-run thing, you know. She had more or less decided to say yes to his proposal.’

‘I was sorry she died how she did, so suddenly. Terrible shock for Harriet and for all of us. Life is so short, one never knows, does one, when it will be one’s own turn to be called.’

Seeing she was succumbing to what he called the birthday syndrome Jimbo said, ‘You don’t think like everyone else that the chickenpox is a result of the dig, do you?’

His mother snorted her contempt. ‘Of course not! I’m not a fool, but then again …’

‘I know just what you mean. Your head says it’s ridiculous but the heart says something quite different. By the way, Mother, this business of Bryn and Georgie’s divorce.’

‘Yes?’

‘I understand Bryn’s trying to find out who is going to finance Dicky buying into the pub when Bryn and Georgie get their divorce. Thought I’d warn you, just in case he came fishing for answers from you.’

‘Mother!’

‘He’s trying to get his feet under Georgie’s table, the devious beggar. She’s better off with Dicky. Lovely man, he is, makes two of Bryn.’

Amused by her close involvement in village matters Jimbo asked, ‘Glad you came to live in the village?’

‘Of course. I know I behaved badly when I first came but I have improved, haven’t I?’

For fun Jimbo didn’t answer immediately, then he said, ‘Ye-e-e-s-s,’ as though he had to weigh up the matter.

‘You get more like your father every year. You bad boy.’ Jimbo went to replenish their glasses and when he got back to the table his mother said, ‘I’m not a superstitious person, but with all this going on about the ghastly effect the dig has had on everything, I must be off my head worrying about saying what I did about Craddock going under a bus. I should never have said it.’

‘For heaven’s sake, Mother, if something did happen to him how can it be your fault? You wouldn’t be to blame at all.’

‘No, but it does make you wonder sometimes just how much influence what you say has on people. I shall have to keep my tongue in check, I really will.’

‘Well, that wouldn’t be a bad idea.’

‘I do hope so. I do hope so. I feel quite dreadful.’

‘Are you ready? I’ve left Harriet for long enough.’