A Village Feud (17 page)

‘No replacement, then?’

Jimbo weighed up the matter in his mind and decided to go for it. ‘No. And that’s my final answer.’

‘Right. You’ve heard him, have you? All of you? Sells dangerous food and then won’t recompense me for it. You’ll be lucky to have a Store by this time next week. I’ll see it closed down. Health and Safety will have a field day with this little lot.’

‘I’m damned if I’ll have anything more to do with you. You’re a pain in the backside. Is it you breaking the windows and sending me poison pen letters? Is it? Eh? Well?’

Andy scornfully eyed him up and down. ‘Give me credit for more sense than that. Of course it isn’t me.’

‘Just get out and don’t darken my door again.’ Jimbo flung open the shop door and pointed dramatically to the street. ‘Go on! Out! Damn you and good riddance!’

‘How dare you humiliate me in front of everyone.’

‘You can humiliate me in front of my customers but I can’t humiliate you, is that it? Believe me, I’m being
restrained
. Fair’s fair. Out! Right now!’

‘Your humiliation was justified. Mine isn’t. I have right on my side, I have. And good morning to you, Mr Too-big-for-his-boots-Charter-Plackett.’

Andy stormed out of the Store in high dudgeon. He’d chosen a good moment for his complaint because the Store was again full of mothers picking up shopping while waiting for the children to come out of school. All the same, because of the pleasure he took in harming Jimbo’s business, he’d almost, almost enjoyed the idea of admitting to the poison pen letters and the broken windows, and had stopped himself only just in time.

A deathly hush fell in the Store. The customers were afraid to speak for they’d never seen Jimbo as angry as this. Tom and Bel simply froze.

Harriet had witnessed the whole of the exchange between Jimbo and Andy and was horrified at what the incident might do to their business. She just knew that Jimbo had really and truly reached the end of his tether. So it was Harriet who broke the silence by saying in her quietest, most considerate voice, ‘Jimbo, I insist you go home. Right now. I’ll stay on. You go.’

Tom agreed and so did Bel. ‘You’ve done enough today. Just go home, we’re all quite capable of holding the fort.’

So Jimbo did. He had a double whisky and then another and sat down in his thinking chair to contemplate just how much damage Andy could do to his business. If he closed the Store down Andy wouldn’t have the chance to ruin it. Why not just do the catering side and damn the rest? He would. That would be easier than all this irritation. Yes, he’d close it. While it did well it still needed the other two sides of the business to make it viable. Without the Store he’d have a lot less aggravation and a lot less work, and fewer outgoings on wages and heating and lighting and money tied up in stock. Closing the shop seemed by far the most sensible thing to do. Hang them all. It was as though a great burden had been lifted from his shoulders. It would be easy to cope with the catering and Harriet’s Country Cousin mail order. It would also give him a chance to find the time to set up selling the marmalades and such on the internet, which was something he’d wanted to do for a long time.

Yes, he would. And why not? It wasn’t written in stone that Jimbo Charter-Plackett had to keep the Store open, was it now? No. If he wanted to close the Store, who could stop him? No one.

Yes, that is exactly what he’d do. Damn them all. He’d close it. Andy was the final straw. He’d close the Store, and let no one try to persuade him otherwise.

The next morning Dottie rather imagined she’d been let off talking to Beth because she was nowhere to be seen. But just as Dottie had had a word with Caroline and was collecting her cleaning things Beth appeared in the kitchen.

There was something of an improvement in her looks, as though she were finally thinking of digging herself out of that big black hole she’d been in for so long.

‘Good morning, Dottie. Hello, Mummy. Have a cup of tea with me, Dottie?’

Caroline switched the kettle on. ‘It won’t be a moment.’

‘Yes, I will.’ Dottie dumped her cleaning things in the hall and sat herself down at the kitchen table. ‘Nice morning. Good to be out.’

Beth ignored that remark. ‘You’ve heard, Dottie?’

‘What about?’

‘Jimbo’s closing the Store. Isn’t it awful?’

Dottie couldn’t believe her ears. ‘Jimbo’s closing the Store? Closing it, as in for ever?’

‘Yes, hadn’t you heard?’

‘First I know about it. I went to visit a friend of mine over the other side of Culworth yesterday and didn’t get back till late. I’d no idea. I knew about his broken windows because I saw those when the bus stopped outside. That must have been the last straw.’

‘Well, apparently he put a notice on the door yesterday afternoon. He’s closing at the end of January.’

‘No! But how shall we manage without him?’

‘Unless he sells it to someone, everyone’ll have to shop in Culworth.’

‘That’s a bind for people like me what have no car.’

‘Exactly. Harriet told Mummy last night on the phone that the first she knew was Jimbo sticking the notice up on the door. She said it was a terrible shock.’

‘I should say. His shop makes Turnham Malpas important, you know, because they all come here to shop from Little Derehams and Penny Fawcett and all places between. Well, that’s a blow and not half.’

‘It is. But we’ve been lucky all these years having his shop, haven’t we? There’s not many villages with a shop as good as his.’

‘You’re right there. But it must be hard work. Keeping it open over Christmas though, the crafty beggar.’

Beth smiled. ‘Maybe Harriet will change his mind for him.’

‘Maybe, though she’s never been involved in the shop very much, has she? More into the cooking and that, is Harriet. Come to think of it, we’re lucky to have her, aren’t we? Them cakes and puddings she makes for the freezer and that. And those gateaux she cuts into single slices so you can buy just one slice for yer tea. I treat myself sometimes and get a slice. Delicious, they are.’

The two of them discussed which of Harriet’s cakes they liked the best, and fell to dreaming about them. Beth was on her second cup of tea when Dottie realized the time and leapt to her feet. ‘My God! Oh! sorry! Anna will be here soon and I haven’t lifted a finger.’

Beth sat where she was, thinking. A slice of one of Harriet’s cakes for tea would be lovely. She had all her spending money saved up so she could easily buy one each for her and Mummy. In fact, it would be nice if she bought a slice for Dottie, too. Could she dare do that? She propped her elbows on the table and rested her chin on her hands and thought about leaving the house, walking round the Green, opening the door and hearing that dear little bell jingling as she walked in. Like old times. Yes, just like old times. Could she, though? Could she really walk all that way by herself, absolutely alone? It would be fun to give Mummy a surprise. It would be lovely to talk to Jimbo.

Better still, it would be nice to give Dottie a surprise. She’d been so kind talking to her like she did. She was so easy to talk to. Dottie was Dottie, full stop. No airs and graces, just, straight-from-the-shoulder talk. No one else had asked her in plain terms what had happened. Plenty of talk about how she felt, would she be able to go out soon? Did she need someone qualified to talk to? Anything and everything but the vital question. Beth shuddered.

Even her mother, who loved her so, couldn’t bear, didn’t dare, face up to the fact that she might have been raped. But Dottie could and did, and it had helped enormously to say no, she hadn’t.

This would be the test of tests, and all she had to do to prove it was to open the door. Beth swallowed hard. Open the door, walk round the Green, a thing she’d done a thousand times before Africa, and walk into the shop. Buy three slices of cake – no, four slices of cake because Alex would be back for tea and she couldn’t leave him out. She dwelt for a moment on Alex and the true value of having a brave brother, and decided he deserved a whole cake not just one slice. But that would not be right. Such overt gratitude might open a whole can of worms by making people suspicious and that would never do. Beth didn’t even stop to clear the table or clean her teeth. She got her purse out, checked her appearance in the hall mirror and left. If she stopped to tell anyone where she was going she’d never make it.

It felt strange out there in the open air. Each step felt like a mile but she kept concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other, steadily, rhythmically, working hard, controlling every movement.

Grandmama Charter-Plackett was outside her house, supervising the window-cleaner, and asked her how she was. ‘No school yet?’

Beth almost turned and ran all the way home. ‘No, not yet.’

‘Nice to see you out, though.’

Beth hurried along down Stocks Row to the Store. She stood admiring Jimbo’s initial Christmas display. He always did two; one on 1 December and the other on the last Saturday before Christmas. The first was entirely commercial and the second was a Nativity scene, which never failed to be more beautiful than any that had gone before. Then Beth read the notice, stuck up on the door the previous day. ‘With regret,’ it began. Nothing but the longing for a slice of Harriet’s gateau could possibly have got her here. Well, now she was here, so she’d better go in.

Beth pushed open the door and headed straight for the desserts freezer, determined to make her purchase and leave as quickly as possible before she met anyone. But not a single cake had been sliced, they were all whole. Now what? Jimbo miraculously appeared beside her.

‘Can I help?’ he asked softly. He was propped on his crutches, smiling, not asking challenging questions like Grandmama had, just standing there being normal, but extra, extra kind.

‘I want four slices of gateau, please. The chocolate fudge one.’

‘Right. Your wish is my command.’

Beth froze. She should never have come, her courage had all but drained away. She was about to run when Jimbo laid a hand on her arm and whispered, ‘Don’t go without your cake. Hold tight to the freezer and
don’t let go
.’

So she did. If he offered to give her the slices of cake she wouldn’t let him. She had to pay for them herself, or the whole thing would be a waste of time.

Someone, she didn’t know who, sliced the cake, wrapped each piece separately, put them in one of Jimbo’s fancy boxes and handed it to her. She held it by its fancy ribbon and went to the till. It took all her courage to say, ‘Four slices of chocolate fudge gateau’, hand out the money, accept the change and get herself out of the Store.

Out on the pavement was Jimbo, waiting for her.

He raised his boater to her and said, ‘Good day to you, Beth. You’re my best customer of the day.’

‘Don’t close the Store, Jimbo. Please.’ She gave him a small smile and scurried away, scared she might not find her way back home so confused was she in her mind.

She let herself in and stood listening in the hall. She could hear Anna on the computer in her dad’s study. Dottie upstairs vacuuming. Mum? Where was she?

Beth put the gateau into the fridge for safekeeping, then went to look for her mother. She was on the phone in the sitting room discussing a locum position at one of the local medical practices. So … she was thinking of going back to medicine. Beth’s world crashed about her. She fled for her bed and hid under the duvet forever.

When she’d finished on the phone Caroline went to find her.

‘Darling? There you are. I thought I heard the front door closing. Have you been out?’ But there was no response. Caroline tried cajoling, being forceful, persuasive, understanding, curious. But to no avail. So she decided abandonment might bring a response and left saying, ‘Well, when you’re ready, come down. I’m not going out.’

There was not a sound in Beth’s bedroom for the rest of the day. Caroline crept upstairs twice to see if she was still under the duvet and she was. Out of her mind with anxiety, Caroline spent an absolutely useless day, never quite achieving anything of any value except an e-mail to Peter. Not wanting to worry him, she didn’t mention that Beth had apparently resigned from life. If only she could share her anxieties with him. She finished by telling Peter about pieces of news in Turnham Malpas and how much she missed him:

… Darling, I count the days awaiting your return. It feels so lonely without you, but not nearly so lonely as you must feel for you haven’t even got the children to comfort you as I have. They send their love and we remember you daily in our prayers. Don’t delay in July. Quite simply, come home where you’re wanted so very much
.

Yours
,
Caroline

No sooner had she sent it than one came from Peter. It arrived so quickly after she’d sent hers, that it obviously wasn’t a reply. His read:

To my three dearest people on earth,
I am sitting out in my garden. Well, what passes for a garden; it has been so dry lately the crops will be failing again if we don’t get rain soon. The Commander, Michael Amouti, has found the money for the school and it is being built as I speak. I shall use some of the money the village raised to equip it. I can’t think of a better use for it, can you? Michael is being his pleasant self, coming to keep me company and helping in any way he can. However, I feel uneasy, quite why I don’t know, but I do. Nothing, I expect really, just me missing the advice of my common sense wife
.