A Village Feud (33 page)

Andy paused to think. He sipped his tea, took a bite of his custard cream, looked into the distance and obviously made a decision.

‘I used to dream about being adopted and what it would have meant, what a difference it could have made to me: nice manners, doing well at school, baths, clean clothes and, above all, a welcome when I came home from school. I don’t think parents realize how important that is, someone there when you get home, instead of digging down your shirt-neck for the key on its scratchy string. Damn and blast.’ Tears almost brimmed in his eyes and he brushed them away, looking anywhere but at Peter.

‘Anyway, sir, you don’t want to hear about a no-good fella heading for a certain life sentence. My God, you must hear some tales and not half in your job.’

‘I do, but they go no further than me. Believe me.’

‘Well, one day I might tell you the rest. I’ve begun using the prison library, and that’s a first. Flipping funny collection of books they’ve got. Not my sort at all, but then I never did read books, so maybe I’m no judge.’

‘Read to enjoy, that’s my motto. That’s what counts.’

‘Some I start and I can’t get into ’em at all; others I can’t put ’em down. Funny that.’

‘There you are, then, the ones you can’t put down are the ones for you.’

‘At least it helps me to leave these damned walls for a while.’

‘Exactly. Was there something in particular you wanted to see me about?’

A wry smile touched Andy’s mouth and he said, ‘Nothing really, just needed a conversation with someone from outside.’

‘I get the feeling there’s something deep down serious you need to talk about?’

Andy hesitated, opened his mouth to begin speaking and then changed his mind. ‘No, not really, but—’

‘I’m a good listener. Perhaps you’ll tell me next time I come when you’ve had more time to think it over.’

Andy raised his hand in protest but Peter interrupted him, ‘Yes, I know, only if you ask for me. No pressure.’

‘That’s right. Thanks. I’ll go now.’ He popped the bar of chocolate into his pocket. ‘Thanks. You’re very kind.’ It was Andy this time who offered to shake hands.

‘Perhaps I’ll see you again. Like I said, I’ll visit anytime. Good afternoon, Andy.’

‘Good afternoon, sir.’ He paused with his hand on the door knob as if intending to turn back to say something more, but then seemed to change his mind, and left.

Anna stayed on with Grandmama in her cottage for an extra two weeks. They’d agreed to stay friends and be tolerant of each other after a full-scale discussion of the problems they’d faced before and a generous agreement on the part of each of them that they’d behaved badly to each other the first few weeks after Peter went back to Africa.

‘I can’t think what got into me, Katherine. I think I felt very much out of my depth. Peter is a very deeply committed priest, on a higher plane than most of us, and beside him and his learning I felt totally inadequate.’

‘I was pig-headed and very intolerant. Comes of living on my own for something like thirty years. But … I have learned my lesson and you’ve made me decide to be much less aggressive in my dealings with people and make myself more tolerant of their shortcomings.’ She hastily added, ‘Not that you have any shortcomings, my dear. Just the opposite.’

‘Thank you, you’re more than generous.’ Anna leaned across and kissed Katherine’s cheek.

‘Friends, then?’

‘Friends. I’m glad Peter’s decided to take some time off because it’s given you and me the opportunity to put our new resolutions into practice.’

Grandmama drew a deep breath and replied, ‘Exactly.’ Originally Peter and Caroline had decided to go away for a whole week’s holiday but Alex had disliked the whole idea and Beth wouldn’t even discuss it.

Alex, usually so self-contained, burst out abruptly with his protest. ‘I’m
not
going for a whole week, Dad, it’s too long and I don’t want to go. I’m staying here.’

‘Beth, how do you feel?’

She looked at Peter with a measure of fear in her eyes. ‘I don’t want to go for a whole week, either. I’ll stay here with Alex, and Sylvia can come again.’

‘Oh! Right. Days out, then?’

Beth, relieved, hugged Peter. ‘I’ll agree to that. I want to come home to sleep where … everything’s safe. Where we’re safe.’

‘Right then, we could see films, go out to a stately home one day, visit the coast? Go walking? Or cycling, perhaps?’ Caroline would have loved a week away but it was obvious the children didn’t feel confident enough for that.

So Peter handed his study back to Anna and the four of them had a glorious week visiting places they’d promised themselves for ages they would but never got round to, relaxing on beaches, swimming in the sea, walking, cycling, going to the cinema, and sometimes just doing nothing but enjoying each other’s company. Caroline thought she might find an opportunity to let the children know that Peter had told her precisely what had happened to them when they were missing but the moment never arose. So she decided to leave things as they were, especially as they were just beginning to leave the horror behind them.

They’d agreed they wouldn’t open any post, check up on e-mails or read any newspapers that week, thus making it a more complete holiday, so it wasn’t until the second Saturday of their holiday that Caroline took in a cup of tea to Peter in his study and asked if there was anything for her. ‘Might be some voicemails; haven’t got round to listening to them yet. Thanks for the tea.’

There was, however, an envelope from the prison. When he opened it up there was another envelope inside addressed to the Padre. The first was from the Governor’s office and inside the second envelope was a letter to Peter from Andy Moorhouse. Peter was appalled to find out that Andy had died.

Dear Padre
,

I am writing to thank you for coming to see me. It meant a great deal to me that someone actually cared, which you obviously did. I found I hated myself for what I’d done, hated the way I’d turned into a monster. Don’t say I’m not a monster because I am
.

A monster first to Alison Dunne, my only wife. I told her I was going out to get the morning paper and just never went back
.

Next to Jenny, who loved me to bits and believed she was my wife, and I turned all her love to ashes and finally to her death. Poor Jenny, she didn’t deserve that ugly death
.

Then fancying your Beth. Tell her all the blame is mine. I was despicable for having designs on such a lovely, unspoilt girl. Treasure her
.

I picked up a Bible in the library and saw the Gospel written by John so I read it, because John was my granddad’s name. It took all night by the light of a torch I pinched from one of the warders. By morning I knew without doubt I couldn’t face trying to pull myself up by my shoelaces from the deep black mud I’d fallen into. Don’t take any of the blame yourself, the decision is entirely mine. Though I remembered what you said about remorse and I’m full to the brim with it. If God is still of the same mind and full of forgiveness for sinners even at the last hour, then here I come
.

Sincerely
,

Leslie Dunne (Andy Moorhouse, Aidan Thomas, Ben Dunne, and Ah! yes, Johnny Dunne)
.

When Peter read the Governor’s letter he was shaken to the core. Apparently, during the night following his writing of the letter to Peter, Andy had managed to get up into the roof space and then onto the roof of the prison. He’d thrown himself off the top. He was still alive when they found him, but never regained consciousness, and he died twelve hours later.

Caroline went to tell Peter their meal was ready and found him deep in thought. ‘I’m just about to serve. What is it, darling?’

‘Andy Moorhouse has died. Committed suicide.’

‘Oh! I’m so sorry. Am I? I don’t know. Are you?’

‘I cannot possibly condone suicide under any circumstances.’

‘But darling, he had no one, no one at all to support him. What’s worse, no one to love him. No hope. He must have felt desperate.’

Peter studied over what she had said and then replied cautiously, ‘Maybe. Having no one who loves you must be dreadful.’ He took hold of Caroline’s hand and kissed it. ‘Maybe he’s done what was best for him. At least he was full of remorse.’

‘Well, then.’ They were silent for a moment and then Caroline added, ‘For the best I expect in the end. Poor chap.’

‘Possibly.’

The following Monday morning Dottie came in to clean, glad to see them back again and eager to tell them her news.

‘They’re starting on my house in two weeks’ time. It’s going to be a massive job. Foundations to begin with, ’cos it’s sinking as we all know, then the damp, which will mean a complete re-thatch, and then it’s going to be all mod cons for Dottie. A big kitchen made out of the outbuilding stuck onto the house that I’ve never used because the roof leaked something chronic, all new cupboards and everything, and then a bathroom out of that boxroom that isn’t big enough even for a bed.’

‘Then how will they get a bath in there, Dottie?’ asked Beth.

‘Making it bigger by taking a bit off the landing. I’m thrilled to bits. Mr Prior came down with the builder while you were holidaying, such a nice man.’

‘You can stay here, then, Dottie, like I promised.’ Caroline smiled and noticed Dottie looked a mite uncomfortable.

‘Well, Doctor Harris, much as I would like to live here – which I would, there’s no doubt about that – my cousin in Little Derehams, our Lucy, she’s already cleared out her second bedroom and she’s a new bed coming next week and she wants me to stay with her. Thank you all the same, but she’s dead set on it and I can’t refuse, she’d be that hurt.’

‘I don’t know Lucy,’ Peter said. ‘Which cottage does she live in?’

‘Doesn’t go to Church, doesn’t our Lucy, so you probably’ve never met her. The Old Forge, bottom of the hill by that medieval prison Mr Fitch restored.’

‘Oh, yes. You’ll be able to get the bus from there, won’t you?’

‘Stops just up where the old pub used to be. It’s very convenient for most things. You don’t mind, Doctor Harris? Bit difficult with it being family.’

‘Of course I don’t mind. You do what’s best. Ironing this morning, Dottie, and we said we’d clear out the linen cupboard on the landing this week.’

‘No sooner said than done. Harvest next Sunday, Rector. All ready? Going to be a big do.’ Dottie clapped her hand to her mouth. ‘Oops, sorry, a big do for the Reverend Anna, you know, the farewell do, combined with the Harvest Lunch. Best get on. She was very good in her way and was mighty kind and thoughtful to lots of people but, let’s face it, she wasn’t you, sir, now was she?’ Dottie gave him an enormous, very daring wink and then scurried off to spring the ironing board into action before she said too much.

Sheila Bissett’s new idea for the Harvest Festival had delighted every person who heard about it and it had gone from being a light in Sheila’s eye to a welcome home for all the Harrises, a warm celebration of Anna Sanderson leaving them all, a big lunch (tickets available from all regular churchgoers), and a big auction afterwards, which included any items other than Harvest Festival things people thought fit to give. Sheila had grumbled that some of the extra items people had given were not even fit for a jumble sale, but nevertheless she’d arranged for them to be available for sale on a separate table during the auction, (any offer accepted).

Sheila had worked so hard for this new idea that she had one of her panic moments the night before.

‘Look, Ron, it’s no good, I shall be awake all night and like a wrung-out dishcloth all day tomorrow. I think I’ll retire to bed and not bother getting up tomorrow.’

‘Look! You were like this over the skinny-dipping and what happened? One of the best nights we’ve ever had in Turnham Malpas. So you can take one of your herbal tablet thingies and calm yourself down. Are you listening?’

‘Have we got enough food organized? You know how the WI hate to get anything wrong. God, Ron, I feel terrible.’

‘Now come on, old girl, just cheer up.’

Sheila sat bolt up right. ‘I’ve told you before, I am
not
your old girl.’

‘Sorry, just a term of affection.’

‘Well, it doesn’t feel like it to me. The church is looking gorgeous. They all worked so hard today, setting it all up.’

‘There you are, you see, it is going to be successful. Our Louise inherited
your
organizational talents. There’s no one better than you.’

‘She’s looking better, isn’t she? I mean, after … the … baby, don’t you think?’

‘Yes, much better.’

‘I just hope they don’t try again. I couldn’t bear it.’

‘That’s their choice.’

‘I wonder if Peter realizes the big do we’ve made of it.’

‘He’ll soon find out.’

‘I’ve to be up at six-thirty in the morning. Set the alarm.’