A Village Feud
Authors: Rebecca Shaw
She picked up the drawing pad first, which had fallen open as it landed on the carpet. When she saw Beth’s drawings she was horrified. Oh, my word. Oh, my word. Dottie went white with shock. She was no psychiatrist but only a fool could not guess at Beth’s state of mind. One grotesque drawing was of a soldier with gun raised, and a girl kneeling in front of him, hands held as though praying, head down … waiting to be shot? Another was even more horrifying: a lurid black and white picture depicting the girl struggling to undress and just the barrel of the gun pointing straight at her from the edge of the page. Only the girl was in colour. It was obviously a school uniform dress she wore, but dirty and dishevelled. The face could only have been Beth’s, with those rounded cheeks, the deep-blue eyes, so like her real mother’s, and the ash-blonde hair.
Dottie sat down on the bed to think. What on earth could she do about this?
Educated at a co-educational Quaker boarding school, Rebecca Shaw went on to qualify as a teacher of deaf children. After her marriage, she spent the ensuing years enjoying bringing up her family. The departure of the last of her four children to university has given her the time and opportunity to write.
The Village Green Affair
is the latest in the highly popular Tales from Turnham Malpas series.
Visit her website at
www.rebeccashaw.co.uk
.
A Country Affair
Country Wives
Country Lovers
Country Passions
One Hot Country Summer
Love in the Country
TALES FROM TURNHAM MALPAS
The New Rector
Talk of the Village
Village Matters
The Village Show
Village Secrets
Scandal in the Village
Village Gossip
Trouble in the Village
A Village Dilemma
Intrigue in the Village
Whispers in the Village
A Village Feud
The Village Green Affair
A Village Feud
REBECCA SHAW
Contents
Willie Biggs
Retired verger
Sylvia Biggs
His wife and housekeeper at the Rectory
Sir Ronald Bissett
Retired Trade Union leader
Lady Sheila Bissett
His wife
James (Jimbo) Charter-Plackett
Owner of the Village Store
Harriet Charter-Plackett
His wife
Fergus, Finlay, Flick and Fran
Their children
Katherine Charter-Plackett
Jimbo’s mother
Alan Crimble
Barman at the Royal Oak
Linda Crimble
His wife
Lewis Crimble
Their son
Maggie Dobbs
School caretaker
H. Craddock Fitch
Owner of Turnham House
Kate Fitch
Village school headteacher
Jimmy Glover
Taxi driver
Mrs Jones
A village gossip
Vince Jones
Her husband
Barry Jones
Her son and estate carpenter
Pat Jones
Barry’s wife
Dean and Michelle
Barry and Pat’s children
Revd Peter Harris MA (Oxon)
Rector of the parish
Dr Caroline Harris
His wife
Alex and Beth
Their children
Jeremy Mayer
Manager at Turnham House
Venetia Mayer
His wife
Neville Neal
Accountant and church treasurer
Liz Neal
His wife
Guy and Hugh
Their children
Tom Nicholls
Assistant in the Store
Evie Nicholls
His wife
Anne Parkin
Retired secretary
Jenny Sweetapple
Complementary medicine practitioner
Sir Ralph Templeton
Retired from the diplomatic service
Lady Muriel Templeton
His wife
Andy Moorhouse
Social Worker
Dicky & Georgie Tutt
Licensees at the Royal Oak
Bel Tutt
Assistant in the Village Store
Don Wright
Maintenance engineer (now retired)
Vera Wright
Cleaner at the nursing home in Penny Fawcett
Rhett Wright
Their grandson
Grandmama Charter-Plackett thumped open the front door, stormed in and dumped her suitcases on the hall floor. Harriet, bed-making upstairs, heard the hullabaloo and went on to the landing to see who’d arrived.
‘Mother-in-law! What on earth’s the matter?’
‘You may well ask! May I have a whisky to revive myself?’
Harriet glanced at her watch. ‘Bit early, but obviously you look to have need of one.’ She ran down the stairs. ‘What’s brought this on?’
‘Whisky first, please.’ She rocked slightly on her feet and Harriet took her elbow, but Grandmama shook her off. ‘I’m not in my dotage, Harriet, thank you very much.’
She marched into the sitting room and flung herself down in the best chair in the house, a tan leather winged effort carefully chosen by Jimbo for his personal use. She held out her hand.
Harriet hastily poured her a whisky and gave it to her. ‘Water?’
But Grandmama had downed the first whisky and was holding out her glass for a refill.
‘I don’t want to interfere, but at this time of day …’
‘Another one and then we’ll have a coffee together and I’ll tell you all.’
While she made the coffee Harriet could hear her mother-in-law huffing and puffing and muttering to herself. Thoughts raced through Harriet’s head. Should she ring Jimbo? By the presence of the suitcases in the hall it looked as though his mother was taking up residence. Should she turn her out this minute without giving her a chance to explain her sudden appearance? Give her no time to get settled? Tell her there was no room at the inn?
Carefully balancing the tray, Harriet went through into the sitting room. Grandmama was sitting bolt upright sipping her second whisky.
‘Black, I assume?’
She was answered with a nod.
The two of them were silent until Grandmama had finished her second whisky and was leaning back in the chair with more colour in her face.
‘Well?’ Harriet asked.
‘My dear Harriet, I value you greatly, as you know, and what I am going to ask you is really more than flesh and blood should be asked to tolerate but …’
Harriet put down her coffee on the table, just in case, all her senses fine-tuned. In her head she was saying: Jimbo, why aren’t you here?
‘Can I stay until Anna goes? I’ll pay towards the housekeeping, I promise.’
Shocked to the core Harriet repeated, ‘Until Anna goes?’
‘She’ll be leaving in July when Peter gets back. Why on earth he felt the need to go back to Africa after all the trauma the children suffered there I do not know. Do you? Really know, I mean?’
‘Peter promised to go for a year to set up the mission, but with all the fighting he wasn’t able to do that. But when things so miraculously quietened down he knew he had to go back and complete his work there. He’d got the money we collected for him and there’s no one better than Peter to see it spent wisely. They deserve to have someone rooting for them after all they’ve been through, and Peter knows that if he is there, with God’s help, he’ll achieve all his objectives. In a kind of way, at the moment those Christians of his need him more than we do, don’t they? Otherwise it would look like desertion on his part, right when they need him most.’