A Village Dilemna (Turnham Malpas 09) (22 page)
Read A Village Dilemna (Turnham Malpas 09) Online
Authors: Rebecca Shaw
‘I tried but I was so frightened. I kept going up but then
I went back down again. I felt so heavy. I couldn’t see Mummy anywhere. It was so cold.’ She shuddered at the memory. ‘Worse than the swimming pool. I’ve got a huge, huge bump on my head, Daddy, look.’ Beth pushed her hair away from her face to show him a black-and-blue patch close to her temple. ‘I bumped it on the edge of the boat when I went in. It really makes you so you can’t think.’
‘Thanks be to God, you’re safe and sound.’ Peter hugged her.
Alex declared he’d tried to help. ‘Mum wouldn’t let me dive to find Beth. She told me to stay in the boat.’
‘Very wise, else she’d have had two of you to rescue, wouldn’t she.’
‘
I
could have swum back to the boat and climbed back in, Dad.’
‘I expect you could, but it’s as Beth says: it’s very different from the swimming pool.’
Caroline came in still dressed in her borrowed clothes. ‘Peter! Am I glade to see you.’
Peter stood up and put arms round her. ‘And I’m glad to see you too. There I was, visiting my housebound sick, totally unaware of the danger my entire family were in. Darling! I’m so sorry I couldn’t come with you. Are you sure you’re feeling OK? It must have been a terrible shock. You were so brave.’
‘I jumped in without thinking. She kept comoing up and going down again. I was scare to death. I don’t call that being brave.’
‘Well, I think you were brave anyway.’
Beth said, ‘She was. She dived dozens of times to get me, didn’t she, Alex? Dozens. She was brave. I’ll need
new sandals. I’ve left one of my best ones in the lake.’ She held up her bare foot to show him.
‘I’m hungry. Is it nearly time to eat? It must be.’ Alex wandered off into the kitchen.
Peter volunteered to start the meal while Caroline changed, so she and Beth went upstairs to find fresh clothes. They sat on Beth’s bed, had a long cuddle to comfort themselves and giggled at their outfits. ‘Mummy, I was so scared. I thought I was going to die.’
‘Don’t, darling, don’t even think about it.’
‘But I did.’ She curled her arm more tightly round Caroline’s neck. ‘It’s terrible down there. I go under the water in the swimming pool with my eyes wide open but under there, under that lake … there’s swimmy things and black bits, and it’s so dark you can’t see, and even when I went down I didn’t touch the bottom. I couldn’t even
see
the bottom.’
‘I know, darling, it’s very deep at that end of the lake.’
‘Have you ever drowned?’
‘Not even nearly.’
‘Has Daddy?’
‘Not that I know of.’
Beth kissed her cheek very hard, again and again. ‘I love you, Mummy. I truly do.’
‘And I love you.’ Caroline wound her arms round Beth and hugged her more tightly. ‘I love you so very much.’
‘And me you. And I love Daddy. Do you love Daddy?’
‘Of course I do. You know that.’
Beth sat up and loosened her hold on Caroline. ‘I love you like you really were my mummy. Which you’re not, but you are and I want you to be for ever. Daddy says no
one can take me from you. They can’t, can they, if it’s written on paper?’
‘No. Never ever. Was that what the screams were all about at school the other day?’
Beth nodded. ‘Yes. All of a sudden I understood. But I want to live with you all the time. Mr Glover said he wished you were his mother too, because you’re so lovely. Well, that’s how I want it to be. I’m going to be yours for ever. I’m not going to bother about those girls with the flower names, not for now anyway.’
‘Thank you, darling, I like the sound of that very much. But you can when you wish, you know, when you’re older.’
Beth shrugged her shoulders. ‘Perhaps.’ She stood up. ‘I think I’ll put on my blue shorts and that white top.’
‘Fine. I’d better get changed myself.’
‘I’ve got things sorted out now.’
‘Good, I’m glad.’
‘I’m your girl because I must be because you said you jumped in the water without giving it a thought, so you must love me the very bestest. Mustn’t you?’
Caroline smiled at her. ‘I expect I must.’
‘Well, I
know
you do.’
Beth disappeared into the depths of her wardrobe searching for her favourite blue shorts and said no more, so Caroline crossed the landing to her own bedroom, overwhelmed with joy.
There’d been rain over the weekend, for which every gardener in the neighbourhood was very grateful, but on the morning of the bones service – for that was what everyone called it whenever it got a mention – a weak sun
appeared and bathed the village in a kind of mystical hazy light from first thing.
Peter was approaching the service with trepidation. Not because he wasn’t well prepared for it, but because it had occurred to him that he could very easily have been conducting a funeral service for his own daughter. As he tucked his cross into his leather belt and made the chain comfortable round his neck he looked at his reflection in the bedroom mirror. Behind him he could see Caroline standing by the dressing table putting on a necklace.
‘Caroline, come here, darling.’ Through the mirror he watched her come to stand beside him. They looked gravely at each other in the glass and Peter said, ‘Thank you for being utterly wonderful and for loving me.’
‘Thank you for loving me. Because I do love you. This funeral is getting to you, isn’t it?’
Peter nodded. ‘The thought occurred to me that but for you I might have been conducting Beth’s …’ He felt as well as saw her shock.
‘Oh, my God! Don’t even think it. And don’t let her hear you say that. She really thought she was going to die.’
‘I’m sorry. Sometimes, though, it is salutary to remind ourselves to be grateful for His mercy.’ He found her hand, grasped it and took it to his lips to kiss. ‘Thank you for coming with me this morning. Is my congregation ready?’
She smiled back at him, checked her appearance and said, ‘It is.’
They got downstairs to find both Beth and Alex ready and waiting. ‘We’re going to be late.’
Caroline asked, ‘Why, where are you going?’
‘To the bones service, Mum.’
Peter protested, ‘I’d arranged for you to stay with Willie while …’
‘We’re going. We want to.’
Peter saw that determined look in Alex’s eye which experience had taught him meant he, Alex, was set on having his own way and that nothing, but nothing, would change his mind.
‘We’re both going, aren’t we, Beth?’
‘Oh, yes.’
Peter couldn’t face the ensuing battle if he refused to allow them to be there; he was in no mood for an uproar. ‘Very well. Pop next door and tell Willie. I’ve got to go. We’ll see you in church.’
Alex knocked at Willie’s and Sylvia’s door, pushed it open and put his head round it, just as he’d seen his father do, saying, ‘It’s Alex from the Rectory.’
Sylvia was standing with her handbag on her arm, obviously about to leave for the service. Willie was ensconced in his chair by the fireside trying to read the paper.
‘Willie! We’re going to the service. Dad says we can, so we shan’t need to stay with you. Thank you all the same.’
Willie nodded his agreement without looking at the pair of them.
‘Are you coming with us, Sylvia?’
‘You go on. I’ll follow in a moment. I need a word with Willie.’
Alex left without closing the door. Sylvia pushed it shut and went back to stand in front of Willie. ‘This has gone on far too long. Get up and come with me.’
‘I shan’t.’
‘You will.’
‘After all you’ve said in the past about how Peter is so close to God he knows the rightness of things without even having to debate about it, and you’re
still
flying in the face of his decisions. How can you? How can you?’
‘Because I can.’
‘Willie Biggs, you’ve been fooling me all these nine years we’ve been married. I thought you were a good, upstanding man, a man young in mind and body with modern ideas. I can see how wrong I’ve been.’
‘Just a minute!’
‘You’re a silly, stubborn old man, that’s what. I’m disgusted with you. What Peter will think I can’t imagine.’ Sylvia marched towards the cottage door with tears brimming in her eyes.
‘Hold on a minute, then, and I’ll come.’
She had her hand on the catch and didn’t look back to see if he followed because she knew he would; he was as tired as she was of their conflict. Arm in arm they hastened up the path into the church and arrived just as Peter announced the first hymn.
Peter’s beautifully chosen words, the tremendous feeling he imparted with every sentence he spoke, lifted the heart. ‘God of peace and compassion, make bright with Your presence the path of those who have walked in the valley of shadows.’ Mrs Peel played ‘Abide with me’, with such soulful passion no one could fail to be moved. Peter’s closing words brought tears to their eyes, so powerful and heartfelt had been the service. ‘Father God, they have journeyed beyond our sight many years ago, but we, Your children of today, entrust them to Your keeping, with complete and utter faith that in Your infinite mercy, You
will transform the fearful terror of their deaths into a bright new healing dawn in Your everlasting Kingdom. Amen.’
The service had been difficult enough, but the sight of the coffins being lowered into the grave was almost his undoing. He said the final blessing with tremendous relief and was able at last to see who besides his own family had come, for he’d been aware the moment he’d walked into the church that there were far more people present than he had ever hoped for. He realised as he blessed them that there was a representative from almost every family in the village and felt a huge sense of triumph. So, despite half the village setting themselves against him so vehemently, they’d finally come round to his way of thinking. He smiled at them all and they all smiled back.
Duty done they went from the churchyard into the church hall for their coffee. Mrs Jones laid a firm hand on his arm. ‘One thing’s for certain, Rector, they’ll be resting in peace now. We shall have no more troubles, not after that beautiful service. How you think up all those lovely words I shall never know. Like poetry it is, sheer poetry. Gets you right there.’ She thumped her chest as she spoke. ‘As I say, we can look forward to peace now. Ever since Gilbert dug up them bones there’s been nothing but trouble but I can feel right here’ – she thumped her chest again – ‘that things are going to be right now.’
‘Thank you, Mrs Jones. Thank you. I’m glad you approve.’
‘Of course I do. It could well have been Flatman bones you’ve just laid to rest. You know, my family go back a very long way.’ Her large brown eyes scanned the crowd. ‘I notice even Willie turned up and he was dead against it.
Mind you, I understand Sylvia’s had a lot to say about his attitude. She must have won!’
‘I was a bit surprised, I must say. Here’s a coffee for you … Greta.’
It was the first time he’d called her Greta and whereas at one time she would have been indignant at his familiarity, today it seemed a lovely friendly gesture, a kind of acceptance that she belonged to the inner fold. ‘Thank you … Peter. No sugar. I’m quite sweet enough! About the council and the road safety, how do you stand on that?’
‘I certainly don’t think things should stay as they are. We need something, unobtrusive certainly, but something, because one day there’s bound to be an accident; it’s unavoidable.’
Smugly Mrs Jones declared, ‘Then we’re on the same side, Peter.’
‘Good. I’m glad.’
Bryn came to talk to him, so Mrs Jones moved away. ‘Thank you, Rector, for the service. Excellent. Lovely hymns, too. I’d like to go halves with the headstone if you’d agree.’
Gravely Peter studied Bryn’s face and pondered his motives. ‘Why?’
‘Why? … because, well, because I feel I should.’
‘Why should you?’
‘Because I think everyone in the village should donate money to it. It belongs to all of us. You can see that, all those people turning out for it.’
‘I have to confess to being surprised at how many attended the service. I just wish I could believe your motives, Bryn.’
‘Greta Jones, for instance, Greta Flatman that was. Descendant of an old village family, it could be one of her ancestors we’ve buried today. She has genuine reasons for being interested. But you …?’
Bryn didn’t like the sceptical expression on Peter’s face. He’d as much right to be here as anyone else. ‘I’m still very fond of the village. I’ve lived here – what? – ten years.’
Peter sighed. ‘Oh, Bryn!’
‘Will you let me go halves? Please.’
‘Very well, then. I’ve ordered it. I’ll let you have the bill, then you can do as you wish. Who am I to deny you your heart’s desire? Talking of heart’s desire, have you done anything about your divorce?’
‘It’s going through; takes time.’
‘Good chap.’
‘Though there’s not much point in it. Dicky won’t even talk about marrying her. So it might be that Georgie finishes up with neither of us. And a lonely life that will be.’
‘He’ll come round, given time. I’ve read your leaflet. I’ll be at the meeting, not on your side, though.’
‘We need open debate. I’ll be glad for you to put your side.’
‘Good, because I shall.’