A Village Dilemna (Turnham Malpas 09) (5 page)

‘Go on.’

‘They’re an example to us all.’ Harriet told him everything she’d learned and finished by begging him not to say a word to anyone.

‘Cross my heart and hope to die.’

‘Promise?’

‘Promise.’

‘I never think about how lucky we are to have had four children as easily as we have done, and nothing wrong with any of them, but tonight I am. Peter and Caroline are in such a mess about this. If only they’d been able to have children of their own …’

‘It’s their problem, Harriet. I do feel very sorry for them but there’s nothing either you or I can do anything about, except be good friends to them both.’

‘I know, but what a predicament. I wish I could wave a magic wand and make it all right for the four of them. Heaven alone knows what the children’s reactions are going to be.’

‘I’m not often given to fanciful thoughts but I always think their love is something quite different from ours. Theirs is like a skittish, highly strung horse, all temperament and searing passion. It must be hell to live with a love like theirs, all up and down and sensitive and touchy. We’re like a couple of shire-horses, confident and strong.’

‘You make it sound damned boring, Jimbo.’

Harriet was astounded. ‘After all you’ve said about them? I can’t believe this.’

Jimbo gave her a conspiratorial smile. ‘I know, I know, but business is business. Mrs Jones can come back to do the mail order business, because none of her replacements has measured up to her and Vince can do the doorstops
et cetera
and the picture framing. Now he’s retired they need a helping hand and I’m in a position to give them it, so I must.’

‘So that’s how you justify it. Well, you can ask them because I shan’t, it’s all too embarrassing.’ Harriet gave a huge sigh as she finished speaking.

He heard her sigh and said, ‘Harriet! Don’t worry about the twins; you’ve done your bit, just leave it to them. I can’t bear for you to be unhappy. I love you, you see, and what hurts you hurts me.’ Jimbo caressed her hand and twisted round to look at her standing behind him.

She smiled down at him and bent to kiss him. ‘And I love you, even if I am a shire-horse.’ They both laughed, Harriet picked up his sheet of notes from the desk and they began discussing Jimbo’s souvenir scheme. But for Harriet it didn’t entirely block out her worry about Peter and Caroline.

Peter was sitting in his study brooding on the problem when Caroline came home. She put her head round the study door and knew even before he spoke that Peter was troubled. ‘Darling! What’s the matter?’

‘Harriet’s been to see me.’

‘Yes?’

‘Oh, God!’ Caroline sat down abruptly on the sofa.

‘Caroline! We knew it would come some time and it’s come
now
, so we have to face it.’

‘Not yet, not now. Please. I need time.’

‘We’ve had ten years of time to think and all we’ve done is amble along from day to day, putting it off, thankful for their ignorance.’

‘I won’t face it. I just won’t. I’m not ready for it.’

Peter’s answer to Caroline’s anguish was not the sympathetic one she’d hoped for. ‘I’m sorry, darling, but they
are
, even if we’re not, and something must be done about it.’

‘No, we don’t need to. We can just amble along as you say, and wait and see. They haven’t asked
us
, so it can’t be that serious.’

‘That’s probably because they don’t want to hurt us, especially you. Harriet pointed out to me the strong possibility that others might tell her and that could be catastrophic.’ Peter paused for a moment while he searched for the right words. ‘You see, other people might be … cruel … you know, and Beth and Alex can’t fight that kind of cruelty without having a strong bond with us about the whole matter. I know it’s painful, my darling, but we’re the grown-ups in this and we’ve to smooth their pathway.’

Caroline shook her head vehemently. ‘I know they need to know, but not yet, they’re so little. So innocent.’ As she said ‘innocent’ she gave a great agonised sigh.

‘But what will they think of you?’

‘That’s my burden, not theirs.’

Caroline shrugged his arm from her shoulders and turned to face him. ‘My absolute dread is if they want to see her.’

‘I don’t think they will, not yet anyway, but we can’t blame them if they do, can we? It’s only natural. Think it over, seriously, please.’

‘I will. But how shall we … kind of … do it?’

‘Heaven knows. We’ll think of something. We’re not entirely bereft of brains, are we?’

‘I wasn’t thinking of brains, it was heart and feelings and … things I’m most concerned about.’

‘Ah! Yes.’

Never one to allow the grass to grow under his feet, Jimbo had Mrs Jones installed in the mail order office and Vince doing practice runs with doorstop designs in less time than it takes to tell. Mrs Jones glowed with satisfaction the first morning she was allowed back in the Store.

Linda waved cheerfully from behind her post office grille. ‘Hello, Mrs Jones. Quite like old times. I expect you’ll be glad to be back, just like me.’

She bounced into the back of the shop and went straight to the mail order office, closed the door behind her and breathed a sigh of delight. There was a pile of orders waiting for her so she flung off her coat and hat, dug in her bag for her reading glasses and waded in. She reached out and took down a jar of ‘Harriet’s Country Cousins’ Seville Orange Marmalade’ but, before she parcelled it up for the post she ran her finger round the label, stroked the red gingham cover, teased the neatly tied bow of the gold cord encircling it and read out the description of the contents, then held the jar up to the light and enjoyed the golden orangey glow of it. There wasn’t a single jar of homemade marmalade on the market to compare. She felt a surge of contentment run through her veins, decided the jar was the most beautiful thing in her life at that moment and set to work as though she’d never been away.

Jimbo, with an ear to her office door, listened to her banging away with the stapler and rejoiced at the old familiar sound. He really would have to stop sacking staff the moment they displeased him because it always meant him eating humble pie and he was growing tired of the taste.

Harriet caught him listening to the ripping sound of parcel tape being dragged off the reel and poked him in the ribs whispering, ‘Satisfied?’

‘Oh! Who’s a lucky boy, then?’ Harriet, grinning from ear to ear, went towards the kitchen to face a day of making puddings and cakes to fill the freezers. Halfway through the morning she remembered about the twins and Peter’s distress, and it took the edge off her pleasure.

Dicky Tutt had the edge taken off his pleasure in the Store that same morning but not because of the problem at the Rectory. He had called in for a copy of the
Cultvorth Gazette
for Georgie on his way to the pub for his morning stint and found himself facing Bryn right by Jimbo’s newsstand. The hairs on the back of Dicky’s neck stood up and his scalp prickled.

‘Good morning, Dicky! Nice day.’

Dicky picked up on the mocking tone in Bryn’s voice. Remembering how he’d hidden behind Georgie’s skirts the night she’d poured the drinks over Bryn’s head, Dicky decided to stand his ground. ‘The morning would be a lot nicer if you weren’t here.’

‘Don’t be like that, I mean no harm.’

‘Don’t you? Just go back where you came from and leave us all alone. Georgie’s had enough of you and so have I.’

Linda rang her panic button.

Dicky snapped. He grabbed hold of Bryn’s shirt at chest level and jerked his face down towards his own. ‘See here, matey, Georgie is mine and I’ll move heaven and earth to keep it that way. So you can take your miserable pathetic business elsewhere. Find another pub and use that for your pie-in-the-sky plans. Any more of you aggravating me I’ll go straight to the police, and talk about church towers and such. They’ll listen to me. After all, I had plenty of witnesses and they’ve all got long memories.’ Dicky relaxed his hold on Bryn. ‘So git before I do my worst.’

Jimbo appeared by the newsstand.

Dicky saw by Bryn’s eyes that he was alarmed, but only for an instant. Then they changed and Bryn sneered, ‘You! A little squirt like you? Ha!’

‘Yes, a little squirt like me. Any more sniffing around Georgie and I will, God help me, I will.’

Something in the sparky way Dicky defied him triggered the idea that Dicky was intending to marry Georgie. ‘I do believe you’re thinking of marrying her, aren’t you?’ Bryn roared with laughter, holding his sides, his mouth wide open, his eyes screwed tight, his head thrown back. The sound of his amusement bounced from wall to wall. He got out a handkerchief and wiped his eyes. ‘Oh, God! What a laugh. You and Georgie! Oh, my word!’

Dicky stalked out of the door with such dignity that the observers almost clapped their approval, but then they looked at Bryn and saw a frightening mixture of hate and fear in his face which boded ill for Dicky. Poor chap.

Linda had stopped her pretence of counting her stock of stamp books. Mrs Jones, having come out to see the fun, scuttled back to her office in panic. Jimbo heaved a sigh of relief and the customers got on with their own affairs, mindful as they did so to give Bryn a wide berth.

He was rooted to the spot, apparently unaware of his surroundings. Jimbo watched Bryn almost shake himself and focus his eyes on Jimbo himself. Bryn laughed. ‘Did I imagine that or did the little dwarf actually threaten to murder me?’

‘He did.’

‘My God! I’d like to see him try.’ Bryn smoothed the front of his shirt and said, ‘Right, Jimbo. Have you had any more thoughts about what we talked of yesterday?’

‘Come into my office.’ Jimbo jerked his head towards the back of the Store and strode off in front of Bryn.

Jimbo took off his boater and, carefully placing it on a shelf, slowly turned and said in measured tones, ‘The next time you want to have a fight don’t choose my Store as the venue.’

‘Bluster doesn’t impress me. So listen and get the message. I’m going along with the idea of souvenirs because I want to do it. Not because you’ve persuaded me but because it makes sound commercial sense. It’ll be a long time before I see fit to give you a slice of the action. Right. Got that straight. If there is a repetition of this morning you’ll never get a percentage no matter how big it is. That man has a right to threaten you and I’d back him one hundred per cent. Not as far as murder, but certainly where his ambitions for Georgie are concerned. So … watch your step.’ This time it was Jimbo’s forefinger prodding Bryn’s chest.

Bryn looked seriously disconcerted and backed off. ‘OK. OK. I get the message. That’s the trouble with this damned village: everyone thinks they have a right to take sides.’

Jimbo ignored him and moved on. ‘Mm. This is a list of the ideas we’ve come up with and I’m getting organised.’

Bryn studied Jimbo’s list and felt heartened by his enthusiasm. ‘Excellent. Excellent. I like the idea of sweets in Turnham Malpas tins. And the pencils. And the doorstops.’

‘Must press on. Be seeing you.’

‘Can I keep this list?’

‘You can.’