Farewell to Fairacre (20 page)

Of course, I was intrigued to hear about Deirdre, and asked if she had found a cottage in our area. Or had she changed her plans?

'Well, no,' said Henry, looking a trifle hunted. 'She still hopes to find something. In fact, we looked at five or six before she went back to Ireland, but there was nothing that appealed to her.'

I recalled Bob Willet's words about Deirdre hoping to settle in with Henry himself, but naturally did not mention this.

'I hear you are going to the Oxford concert next week with John Jenkins,' he said. Was this carrying the attack into my own camp?

I said that I was.

'I wanted to ask you myself when the first notices went out, but my plans were so unsettled with Deirdre coming and going that I'm afraid I've missed the chance.'

At that moment I caught sight of John Todd about to stuff some sort of foliage - no doubt filched from the nature table - down the back of Joseph Coggs' shirt, and rushed to the rescue.

When I returned Henry was on his way out, waving a hand in farewell, and I was left to speculate.

What were his real feelings towards Deirdre? Was he becoming fonder of her, more protective, happier in her company? Or was she still the nuisance he seemed to find her earlier? And did she really want a house of her own, or were these delaying tactics until she had Henry - and his home - where she wanted?

And what about Henry's attitude to me? I felt somehow that it was changing. There was something a little malicious in the way he had mentioned John's invitation to the concert, and a hint of relief that he was out of the whole affair.

This, of course, was fine by me. I was obviously going to have more attention from my new friend than I really wanted, and it would be a relief to have dear old Henry engaged elsewhere.

I do my best to simplify life, but heaven alone knows it is uphill work sometimes.

On Saturday morning I went to Caxley to buy a new frock, or perhaps just a new blouse, to honour the concert with John.

I bumped into Amy, much to my delight, and we hastened to take coffee together. Naturally, she was very approving of my desire to improve my appearance and agog to hear about John.

'Now, don't throw away the chance of a happy future,' she began.

'I'm not. I'm looking forward to a wonderfully peaceful,
single
retirement.'

'Yes, yes, I know,' she said impatiently, 'but do think about this nice man. How disappointed he'll be if he is turned down. Why, he may even move elsewhere if he's badly hurt.'

'No chance of that,' I said, and rather rashly told her about his proposal.

Her surprise at this disclosure I found a trifle wounding. After all, why shouldn't I receive a proposal?

On the other hand, her frank dismay at my dismissal cheered me considerably.

'And you think he will ask you again? How can you be sure?'

'Well, he said he would. And I'm sure he's a man of his word.'

'Oh good,' she replied, sounding much relieved, and we went on to talk of James, and his skill at sorting out the Cottons' problems, and whether the enormous price I had just paid for a perfectly simply silk blouse was justified.

'Of course it is,' said Amy. 'Why, it may affect your whole future.'

'Amy,' I said, 'you arc the most romantic woman I have ever met!'

'I wish I could say the same of you,' she retorted, as we parted.

The halcyon weather which we had enjoyed changed abruptly with a spectacular thunderstorm one June night.

The bedroom windows streamed with rain, and flashes of lightning lit up the countryside. The thunder shook the cottage, and Tibby scratched at my bedroom door, was admitted and dived for cover under the eiderdown.

Sleep was impossible, and it was almost four o'clock before the storm abated. I suppose I must have had a few hours' sleep, but when the alarm clock went off at seven I could have done with more.

But everything smelled wonderful after the rain. The clove pinks in the border gave out their spicy smell and the madonna lilies above them added to the morning's perfume.

The lane from Beech Green to Fairacre was still damp from the night's downpour, and steam was rising as the sun's strength grew. Small birds were busy foraging for insects which had ventured forth into the morning dampness, and larks were already up and away soaring into the blue above.

It was going to be a wonderful morning, but the weather man had warned us not to expect it to last, and sure enough, by mid-morning the clouds rolled in from the west, and by dinner time the rain was falling again.

'You're off to Oxford tonight, aren't you?' said Mrs Richards, as we dealt out school dinners.

I said that I was, and wondered yet again how she had acquired the news. Not from me, so presumably my date with John Jenkins was common knowledge. This did not surprise me after so many years of village life, but just
bow
the rumours get about continues to flummox me.

I was home before four thirty in time to make myself a cup of tea before arraying myself in my new finery. John was to call for me at six and we were having a meal before the concert began.

I had invited him to eat at my house before we set off, but he was so quick to suggest a meal out that I was prompted to wonder if he did not like my cooking. However, it meant that I need not bother, and that was a welcome relief.

I think Amy would have been proud of my appearance, for the vastly expensive blouse was splendid, and went well with the older parts of the ensemble. Apart from the fact that I looked decidedly heavy-eyed from lack of sleep the previous night, I decided I was passable, even by Amy's standards.

The rain grew heavier as we set off, but we were both in good spirits as we neared Oxford. John had booked a table at an Italian restaurant near the concert hall, and we studied the menu. John predictably settled for a steak, but I ordered a delicious chicken breast stuffed with asparagus and ham.

As we waited for our food to arrive John said, 'Would you like today's proposal now, or as we go home?'

'Oh John! Must we have one at all?'

'Definitely. I'm working on the principle of water dripping on a stone. I think your heart is pretty flinty.'

'I deny it strongly. I take in stray cats and wounded birds, and always put spiders out of the window instead of squashing them.'

'But what about love-lorn middle-aged men?'

'I'm extremely kind to them and go to concerts with them.'

'So shall it be now or later?'

'Let's have it now.'

'"And get it over", I expect you to say! So, here goes. Is there any change in that stony heart?'

I smiled at him. Give him his due, he was a trier.

'Not really, John. I shouldn't bother any more if I were you.'

He shook his head but he was smiling too, as the waiter arrived with our food.

I thoroughly enjoyed our meal, the concert and John's company throughout the evening.

I liked him even more when he declined my invitation to have a drink when he dropped me at my door, gave me a kindly kiss, and drove off in good spirits.

A nice man, but not for me.

The vicar and his wife had been away for a few days, but on his return he called at the school to tell me of the governors' decision.

They had appointed one of the women, Miss Jane Summers, and I knew at once that the children, and their parents, would wholeheartedly approve.

If I had favoured any one of the four candidates it would have been this person. She was large and jolly, in her thirties, and looked as though she had enough energy and humour to cope with all the problems which would confront her.

Even Mrs Pringle grudgingly admitted that 'she looked a
motherly
sort', who would be a comfortable figure for the new babies to confront on their first school day.

'But how she'll get on with them little monsters of boys in your room,' she said gloomily, 'the Lord alone knows. They could do with the strap now and again. The state of my lobby floors this week is enough to break your heart.'

I said, not quite truthfully, that I felt sure that Miss Summers would be as anxious about the lobby floors as she was herself.

'Well, that'll make a nice change,' said the old harridan. 'When have
yon
worried youself about them, I'd like to know!'

She made her way out with no hint of a limp. Any such little triumph does her bad leg a world of good.

Mr Willet was less censorious, but cautious in his approach to a new set of circumstances.

'I don't like changes, as well you know, and I daresay this new lady will do her best, and no doubt we'll all shake down together in good time. But I tell you straight, Miss Read, you've been a treat to work for, and me and Alice'll be real sorry to see you go. You've been a proper headmistress, and you'll be missed.'

I only wished that Mrs Pringle had been present to hear such compliments, but she, of course, was in the lobby grieving over the floor.

Naturally, the news of the appointment went through the village with the speed of a bush Are, and I received a great many comments.

Mr Lamb said that he was sure the new head would be welcomed but, he added gallantly, no one could possibly take my place. He wished though that a man had been appointed, for some of those boys could do with a clip now and again, and women were a bit soft that way.

Alice Willet said she wished I'd change my mind and stay on. Mr Roberts, the farmer, said he liked the look of the new woman. He always thought fat women were better tempered. Nothing personal, mind you, and if you were a bit skinny it couldn't be helped, but give him a plump woman every time.

The two newcomers, Mrs Bennett and Mrs Cotton, were inclined to be tearful, which I found surprising. But they pointed out that they had only just got used to me, and my school ways, and there I was
gone\

Eve and Horace Umbleditch said it was a pity their boy would not have the inestimable privilege of starting his school career under my guidance, and that Jane Summers, no matter how worthy and clever, could never be a patch on me. Nevertheless, they agreed that I was Doing the Right Thing and Horace was already counting the years to his own retirement.

It was all very flattering, and I was duly grateful for these unsolicited tributes. But why, I wondered, did it need my retirement to prompt these kindly compliments?

In future, I told myself, I should make a point of expressing my admiration and respect for any deserving person who crossed my path and was still hale enough to relish my remarks.

The vicar called to remind the children about the outing on the following Saturday, and then drew me aside in a conspirational manner.

'I have been asked to request you to make a list of things you would like as your leaving present, so that the committee could choose something that you really want.'

'Oh, but please, you know that I really don't—' I began, but was cut short.

'Just jot down a few ideas. The whole village wants to contribute, and we already have a vast sum, so let us know what you would like.'

I stammered my gratitude to his retreating back, and sat down feeling stunned.

What was 'a vast sum'?

Knowing our vicar's complete lack of financial understanding I thought it might be anything from five pounds to five hundred. And in any case one could hardly ask him what 'a vast sum' was.

Here was a problem. I really had no idea what I wanted. I knew that I needed some new nail scissors, but it did not seem quite the thing to put on the list.

I decided to shelve the problem until I got home, and as soon as I had refreshed myself with tea I set to work.

But before I began, Amy arrived with a bunch of roses from her garden, and was greeted with even more delight than usual.

'They're gorgeous,' I cried, taking them from her. 'I'll put them in a vase.'

'They could really do with a rose bowl,' said Amy, looking round hopefully. Til do them for you. I don't care for your grip-and-drop-in arrangements.'

I refused to take umbrage.

'You shall have a choice of vases,' I told her. 'I've never had a rose bowl.'

As she arranged them in two vases, I told her about my problem. She immediately began to organize things, much to my relief.

'How much is this "vast sum"?'

'That's the snag. I've no idea, and I don't want them to spend a lot on me. They know that, but they won't listen.'

'Well, we shall just have to make a list with a good range of price. Anything in the kitchen line you'd like?'

'The back-door mat is pretty shabby.'

'That's not suitable for the list,' said Amy in a brisk manner. 'What about a new gadget? Have you got a food-mixer?'

'I don't want a food-mixer. I should have to wash it up, and I'd be bound to lose all the twiddly bits.'

'A microwave? A steam iron? A coffee-maker?'

'Ah! D'you mean like yours? With a lid that pushes down over the grounds?'

'Yes. A cafetière.'

'I'd like that.'

'Well, at least we've made a start,' said Amy, writing busily.

'Now,' she went on, fixing me with a sharp eye, 'we'll take it room by room. Anything needed in the dining-room?'