Intrigue in the Village (Turnham Malpas 10) (10 page)

‘Right.’ Her eyes were on the biscuit tin, and Kate couldn’t refuse her.

‘Would you like another biscuit? Eat it here, because I haven’t enough for all your class.’

Una took the biscuit she was offered with a polite thank you and then proceeded to stuff the whole thing in her mouth as though it might run away half-eaten if she didn’t. Kate recognized need, not greed, in her actions. Poor child! Her arms and legs were so thin, more like sticks, whereas at the age of five she should still have the slight chubbiness of the very young. How unfair life was. How frustrating not being able to help.

Una slid off the chair as soon as the last crumb had gone down. ‘Thank you, Mrs Fitch.’

‘Thank you, Una. Bye-bye.’

Kate put on the kettle for tea for Miss Booth and Hetty Hardaker, and thought about who she could ask for help. Caroline! Yes! The rector’s wife had two children who’d always had plenty of clothes and possibly still had some school uniforms in a cupboard somewhere . . . Yes, that was it. Straight after school. She’d pop round.

Kate was delighted when Caroline answered the Rectory door.

‘I’ve come for some help.’

‘Come in, Kate. How nice to see you. We’ll go in the kitchen if you don’t mind – I’m just in the middle of
things. Sylvia doesn’t come on Mondays any more so I fend for myself.’

Kate seated herself at the kitchen table while Caroline cleared the worktops of dishes and bowls.

‘Can I get you anything? Cup of tea, perhaps?’

Kate shook her head. ‘No, thanks. I’ve had enough tea today to float a battleship. No, I’ve come about the Bliss children. You might not have heard but they’ve moved into Little Derehams, you know, into Simone Paradise’s old house.’ Kate felt a certain amount of embarrassment as old memories surfaced and she noticed the flash of anger on Caroline’s face. ‘Well, anyway, they are extremely poor. I’ve volunteered to pay for them to have uniform out of my fictitious discretionary fund but the mother has refused. Doesn’t want charity.’

Caroline came to sit at the table opposite Kate. ‘I see, so how can I help?’

‘Well, I thought that she might take help from the Rector’s wife and village doctor instead. Do you have any uniform or clothes of any kind belonging to the twins, which might do for the Blisses? Things they’ve outgrown, you know.’

‘Very possibly. They’ve kept their uniforms since they left, for sentiment’s sake, but perhaps if there was a worthy cause . . .’

‘I’d be so grateful, and you’re so tactful she’d probably accept it from you. And as the twins have left, it wouldn’t matter if the Bliss children were wearing their clothes, would it?’

‘I suppose not. You say she’s living in Simone’s old house? The last time I passed there it looked as though it was falling apart.’

‘It is. Stood empty ever since—’

‘Since Simone died. Yes. Then they must be poor. I’ll look some things out and talk to the children about whether or not they want to keep their uniforms.’

Kate stood up. ‘I’ll leave it with you, then.’

‘You may.’

When she’d seen Kate out of the house Caroline went into the sitting room and stood at the window, watching Kate get into her car. She recollected how she’d hated Kate, who had started up the black magic trouble when she’d first come to the village, and for a moment her heart bled for the loss of poor old Mimi, her beloved Siamese, who had been
sacrificed
to appease the devil, or some such misguided kind of an idea. How hard it had been to like Kate after that! She still felt a frisson of distaste whenever she saw her, but that mustn’t get in the way of helping the Bliss children. Caroline glanced at the clock and saw that the children would be home in about half an hour, and her heart lifted.

Overnight it seemed they had grown up. They had bags for their school books now, and Beth had insisted on having her beautiful long platinum blonde hair cropped so that it now fell neatly into a short bob. As for Alex, he’d always been older than his years and took on knowledge like a sponge soaking up water. Beth didn’t make it quite so obvious but she too absorbed everything she heard with a deep, silent concentration.

How she loved them. Caroline went to put the kettle on. It wasn’t milk and a biscuit they wanted now when they came home from school, but tea and a slice of toast. That seemed to be the most significant indication to Caroline that they were growing up.

In the loft were endless boxes of things she had kept, even their smallest bootees and sleeping suits. God! How small they’d been when they first arrived. What patience she’d needed, what energy, how she’d longed for a full night’s sleep!

She heard Alex’s key in the door. She knew it was him because he did it with such precision, whereas Beth had to fiddle about for a moment getting the key in the slot properly.

They burst in through the door, flung their belongings on to the hall floor and arrived in the kitchen in a flurry.

‘I’d forgotten it was Monday and you’d be home.’ Beth flung her arms around Caroline as though she hadn’t seen her for at least a month. Caroline hugged her and then glanced over Beth’s head towards Alex and gave him a grin. He smiled back, Peter’s smile all over again. His devoted love shone from his eyes quietly, but nonetheless, just as powerfully as Beth’s.

‘Tea? Need I ask?’

When they’d drunk their tea and eaten their toast and peanut butter, she asked, ‘Can I have a word before you disappear?’

They both nodded.

‘Kate has a family of children at school, just started, and they are very poor, so poor their mother can’t buy uniform or weekend clothes for them. I wondered, would you mind if I gave them a load of clothes you’ve grown out of?’

‘I don’t mind, but not our baby things. I’m keeping those for babies of mine.’ Beth, now no longer able to swing her legs as she sat on the kitchen chair, spoke
vehemently. ‘They’re not having those. Why are they so poor?’

‘I’m not sure, but there seems to be no daddy around—’

‘He’s left them. How could he?’ This from Alex who always found desertion by parents a hard thing to understand.

‘Maybe he died.’

Alex thought about that for a moment and then answered, ‘Maybe. You can give them anything of mine.’

‘Thank you, Alex. And you, Beth?’

‘Same here, but not my baby things.’

‘They don’t need baby things as they’re all at school. Don’t panic.’

‘Oh well, that’s all right then. But they’ll need our old uniforms, won’t they?’

Caroline nodded.

‘OK then. We can’t ever wear them again; we’re much too big now.’

And indeed they were. As they got off their chairs and by chance stood side by side, Caroline saw how Alex had shot up and was taller than Beth, but she had lost her chubbiness and was beginning to look almost adolescent. It wouldn’t be long before she’d have two teenagers in the house. Help! ‘Daddy has a meeting tonight so we’re being prompt with our meal. OK?’

‘OK!’

The two of them retrieved their school bags from the hall floor and disappeared up the stairs, chattering about their homework. Just before they reached the top step, Beth called out, ‘What are their names?’

‘Their surname is Bliss, but I don’t know their first names.’

Caroline heard an explosion of laughter. ‘Bliss? Huh! What a name.’

The following day, having spent part of the morning in the loft sorting out clothes for the Bliss children, Caroline set off after lunch with her car boot stuffed with everything she could find. Some things she’d particularly loved she didn’t include, those cornflower-blue shorts of Beth’s with the T-shirt Willie and Sylvia had bought her, or the red shorts and red-and-white T-shirt Alex had worn every single day one summer and she’d had to wash and dry them overnight so he wouldn’t get upset.

Pulling up outside Simone Paradise’s old cottage brought back memories of the last time she’d been there. From where she sat in her car she could almost smell the unkempt cottage as it had been that night when they’d found Simone’s children alone in there, brutally orphaned.

Bracing herself, Caroline got out of the car and headed for the back door. She gave a sharp rat-tat on the door with her knuckles because the knocker was too filthy to touch. Slowly, footsteps approached the door. A bolt was shot back and the door opened just enough for her to see a thin, haggard face with large brown eyes, deep in their sockets, staring at her.

‘Mrs Bliss?’

Nod.

‘I’m the Rector’s wife, Caroline Harris. I’ve come to visit. May I come in?’

Nod.

The door was eased back and Caroline went in. It seemed as though no time had passed since she’d been here that dreadful night all those years ago. The same
shambolic poverty and neglect, the same unkempt smell, the same terrible need for a complete refurbishment and refurnishing. Surely that wasn’t the same sofa from which one of Simone’s children had arisen like a ghost when they’d forced entry into the cottage that terrible night? Caroline shuddered. God in heaven! What a ghastly mess.

‘Mrs Bliss. I do hope you won’t mind me coming to see you. You’re new to the parish and either Peter or I always visit newcomers. May I sit down?’

Caroline found a chair, cleared it of some rags, which she hoped were not the children’s underwear, and sat herself down. Mrs Bliss remained standing.

‘How are you enjoying living in such an idyllic village as this?’ She kept her eyes firmly on Mrs Bliss as she spoke.

‘Fine. I’m sorry I can’t offer you a cup of tea, but I’ve run out of milk.’

‘I drink tea without milk.’

‘Oh, I see.’

The cottage long long ago had had its two rooms made into one so Caroline was able to watch Mrs Bliss making the tea from where she sat. She noticed how frail her movements appeared, but that the cups and saucers were fine china and had seen much better homes than this. Presently the tea arrived at her end of the room and Mrs Bliss stirred the teapot to strengthen the tea and then poured it out into the cups. Caroline was under the distinct impression the tea had been made from secondhand teabags.

‘Thank you. Just how I like it. You have children, I understand?’

Mrs Bliss’s eyes shone. ‘Yes. There’s the twins, Paul and
Phil, then Della and Una’s the youngest, my baby. They’re all at school.’

‘Oh! I have twins. A boy and a girl, but they’re at secondary school now.’

‘Where do they go when they leave the village school?’

‘Well, they’ve both won places at Prince Henry’s and Lady Wortley’s and there is a big secondary school in Culworth with a school bus each day, so you’d have no problems getting them there, having no car.’

‘Good.’ A terrible listlessness came over Mrs Bliss. Caroline decided to get on with the real business of her visit.

‘Can I speak quite plainly, Mrs Bliss? Everyone calls me Caroline. What may I call you?’

‘Eleanor.’

‘Eleanor. I’ve really come to give a hand. In my car, I have a load of clothes, which used to belong to my children, and I’ve brought them for yours.’

Mrs Bliss got to her feet. Caroline lifted a hand to stop her protests. ‘No, before you get on your high horse, I want you to think of the children. Some of it is school uniform which, as you know, they are without. Please let me bring them in. There’s no room for pride when it’s to do with your children being able to hold up their heads, is there? Being the Rector’s wife, I am the soul of discretion, and I shall not tell a single person. And I won’t take no for an answer, either. Now. Can I bring them in? They’re all absolutely clean and in good repair. I wouldn’t insult you by bringing rags. Believe me. The children grew so quickly some years, some of the clothes have hardly been worn. Please?’ Caroline pleaded as best she could but her answer was a long time coming.

Mrs Bliss, her face covered by her outspread fingers, finally nodded.

‘You clear a space on the table and I’ll unload them.’

Caroline went in and out of the back door several times before the car was emptied. Eleanor Bliss was overcome. ‘Such kindness. Such kindness. I can’t believe it.’

As she laid the final armful of clothes on the pile Caroline said, ‘I’ve brought loads of dry cleaner’s coat-hangers; would you like them?’

Eleanor nodded. ‘Thank you. You’re too kind.’

When she’d brought in the coat-hangers Caroline sat down at the table again. ‘Now, tell me. How else can I help?’

‘After this? I can’t ask for anything else.’

‘Oh yes, you can. Tell me.’

‘There’s nothing.’

‘There must be something.’ Caroline looked around the cottage and her heart sank to new depths. Such dreadful poverty she hadn’t encountered in a long time. She didn’t know what to suggest. ‘Are you renting this cottage?’

Eleanor nodded.

‘From whom?’

‘Someone called . . . wait while I find the letter. Here it is, Turnham House Properties.’

‘Turnham House Properties! Who showed you round?’

‘Just a clerk, kind of. You know, smooth-talking.’

‘Have you all the utilities? Water, electricity, mains drainage, proper sanitation?’