Intrigue in the Village (Turnham Malpas 10) (21 page)

Peter learned on the village grapevine of the incident up at Turnham House and was seriously worried. He’d had to deal with stone-throwing and threats when those two crazy sisters, Gwen and Beryl Baxter, had locked Flick Charter-Plackett in the cupboard under their stairs. Windows broken, threats, an unparalled outbreak of community anger. And here they were again, except this time it was people from Little Derehams. Since, pastorally, they were under his care, he decided to take steps.

‘Caroline! If I’m not back for lunch, send out a search party.’

‘Why? Where are you going?’

‘To Little Derehams.’

‘Whoops! You make it sound as though you are going to Outer Mongolia.’

‘Feels like it after their protest march. What can they be thinking of?’

‘They’re jealous, that’s why.’

‘Jealous of Mrs Bliss? For heaven’s sakes, the woman’s very existence is in jeopardy.’

‘Greedy?’

‘Yes, you’re right. Greedy. They were only too glad to sell to Craddock when he wanted to buy.’

‘Exactly. You’ll need the patience of Job and the wisdom of Solomon.’

‘Can’t believe that old Fitch has set about improving her house. I wonder what made him do it?’

Caroline grinned at him. ‘The threat of Social Services knocking at his door? More likely marriage has made him soft in the head.’

Peter looked doleful. ‘I can sympathize.’

‘Peter!’

‘I can. I’ve been soft in the head ever since I met you.’

‘I can’t say I’ve noticed.’

‘No. But I do things I wouldn’t previously have done.’

‘What, for instance?’

‘You’re the only person who can distract me when I’m taking a service. I catch your eye and my concentration goes into a spin. Anyone else’s eye and I have no reaction at all.’

Caroline laughed. ‘I don’t believe that. Off you go. Good luck.’

He stepped close to her, took her in his arms and kissed her, gripping her so tightly she could scarcely breathe.

‘Peter! Please! Not this time in the morning. Sylvia’s here.’

‘I’d forgotten.’ Peter listened and heard the vacuum cleaner running upstairs. ‘We’re all right for a moment.’ He kissed her again, a kiss that set her pulse racing.

When he released her, Caroline said. ‘Ooh, Rector! You’ve made me quite breathless.’

They both laughed.

‘I’ll be back tonight then.’ Peter took hold of her hands and pulled her to him again. He hugged her. ‘And that’s a promise.’

‘Rector! You are a one!’

He left through the back door to go to the garage at the end of Pipe and Nook Lane. As he shut the garden gate behind him he waved to his wife and she waved back, wondering if it wasn’t only Peter who’d gone soft in the head; she loved him so much and was capable of forgiving him anything at all to have him beside her every day.

Peter drove to Little Derehams, thinking about what he was going to say to his parishioners. He’d begin by talking to Louise Johns, as she and Gilbert owned the only house in the village not bought by Mr Fitch. Perhaps she’d have a clear idea of exactly what was behind the protest last night.

Louise appeared to be knee-deep in babies. What a contrast to the Louise he’d known when she was Village Show secretary and had fallen, as she thought, in love with him.

‘Good morning, Louise. Called at the wrong moment, haven’t I?’

‘Come in. It’s always the wrong moment in our home. We really need a house twice the size. Come in, mind where you step.’

She did right to warn him of the dangers underfoot. There were toys strewn all over the living-room floor, to say nothing of pieces of archaelogical specimens belonging to Gilbert’s work. Their newest baby lay in a Moses basket on a low table, two toddlers were trotting about holding toys the other wanted, and someone who looked almost ready for the village playgroup was playing a xylophone quite tunefully.

Above the noise, Peter said, nodding towards the musician, ‘He sounds quite musical. Takes after his father?’

Louise, slimmer and more outgoing than before her marriage, nodded. ‘You’re right. Gilbert is delighted. To what do I owe this visit? Is it about the one hundred and fifty year celebrations at the school? Gilbert’s terribly keen to get stuck in.’

‘No. I don’t know anything about any celebrations.’

‘Big party, I understand, and a special church service, with your permission, of course, and there is a whisper that the mayor from Culworth will be invited.’

‘No one’s said anything to me at all. I’ll have to see Kate about it. No, what I came to see you about was the protest at Turnham House the other night. I wondered if you had some inside information and could enlighten me, seeing as you and Gilbert are the only ones not to be involved.’

Louise separated the two toddlers arguing over the toys by diverting their attention to a Noah’s ark lying abandoned on the table. ‘All I know is that they are angry
because Fitch is repairing the Blisses’ cottage. It desperately needed it, it wasn’t fit to live in quite frankly, and of course everyone else is asking why not theirs. But their cottages are not in the same desperate state. It is, or rather was, appalling, but now they all fancy double glazing and new bathrooms and quite a few would like a new kitchen too.’

‘So, basically, it’s envy and greed.’

‘Put bluntly, yes it is.’

‘It got quite nasty, I understand.’

‘I don’t know. I’ve been so busy and Gilbert took his namesake to nursery this morning so I didn’t get a chance to chat.’

Peter said, ‘I’ll leave you to it, Louise. Thanks for the help. I’m going to see as many as I can this morning. Hopefully I might be able to cool matters a little.’

‘It’ll be an uphill struggle, I’m afraid. They’re very determined.’

It was indeed an uphill struggle.

Reason had flown out of the window so far as the other villagers were concerned, no matter how Peter argued that of course they couldn’t expect to have work done on improving their houses without the rent going up and that Mr Fitch had offered to sell them back their houses.

‘But look how the market’s changed. These houses are worth at least twice what he paid us, and none of us has that kind of money. It’s not fair. No, not fair at all. But we’ll get our own back. We have plans.’ Their plans involved a lot of tapping of the sides of noses with their mouths clamped tightly shut.

Peter made no headway at all, and he left Little Derehams sick to the heart at their intransigence. His next
call was to the school. He often popped in and always tried to make it at a time when Kate was free from teaching, but this morning he’d misjudged it entirely. She was deeply involved so he went to sit in her small office to wait for her.

Eventually the bell rang for break and she came bursting in, apologizing. ‘So sorry to have kept you waiting. Just so busy. What can I do for you?’

‘I came to hear your version of what happened the other night.’

‘The protest, you mean? It was frightening, really alarming. They meant business. They were very angry and of course it suited them to go away with completely the wrong idea about Craddock and Mrs Bliss.’

Peter looked surprised.

‘They assume that there is something going on between them and that’s why he’s improving the house. In fact, he’s doing it up because I asked him to, after what you and Caroline had said. We were both shocked.’

‘I’m not surprised you were. I’d no idea . . . I’ve been to see those who are at home this morning and they’re all saying just wait and see what happens next. Louise says it’s sheer greed motivating them.’

‘It is. Since he bought all their houses he’s done lots of things to improve their village but of course none of that counts, does it? It’s very soul-destroying.’

Peter asked about the celebrations.

‘Have I not told you? I’m so sorry, I seem to have had such a lot on my mind these last few weeks. Yes, we’re planning big celebrations. I’m working on a souvenir brochure, and we’re trying to contact all the people who’ve been pupils here in the past. The mayor has
promised to come, and Muriel suggested a service in the church. She thought of loudspeakers relaying it to the church hall because there’ll be so many people there. Yes, it’s going to be very exciting.’

‘Sounds marvellous. Let me in on your plans, what weekend and such, and certainly it would be great to have a service on the Sunday. In general, I expect the bulk of the people will come on the Saturday.’

‘I would think so. And do you know, Muriel has the address of the old man who was headmaster before the headmaster before Michael.’ She clicked her fingers trying to remember his surname. ‘Michael Palmer, yes, that’s right. The old man’s name is Godfrey Browning, he’s ninety-five and has all his onions at home. His wife’s still alive and she’s coming too, and his grandson is bringing them. Isn’t that lovely? We’re going to invite Michael Palmer and his wife too, of course, though he won’t see that much change, will he, having left only recently? But old Mr Browning certainly will. I’m very excited about it.’

Happily reeling off all her plans for the celebrations, Kate didn’t notice that Peter was not responding in the slightest. If anything, he was distinctly withdrawn.

Margaret Booth came in with coffee for them both but he refused it. ‘Got to be in Penny Fawcett in twenty minutes for a meeting, so mustn’t stop. Thanks all the same.’

Kate said, ‘When I’ve finalized everything, you’ll be the first to know. It’ll be the last weekend of the summer term.’

Peter opened the door, intent on leaving quickly, then turned back to say, ‘Take care, Kate. Don’t let Craddock take the protest lightly.’

‘No, I won’t.’

Peter crossed the school yard, fighting to control his inner turmoil and thinking how blithely Kate had mentioned Michael Palmer and his wife coming back to the village. He couldn’t expect Kate to know that so far as he and Caroline were concerned, the last thing they wanted was Suzy Meadows, or rather Palmer, as she was now, coming back to the village and meeting the twins.

He stood beside his car, lost in thought. Dear God, he prayed, let them be booked to go on holiday. Don’t let them come. I can’t face it. Surely she won’t want to come, will she?

He drove to Penny Fawcett and the meeting about the future of their community hall with a heavy heart. It passed by in a whirl, and when he left to go home for lunch, he was glad someone had taken the minutes, because he remembered very little of what had been said.

His beloved Caroline being put through the mill yet again all because he, her husband, hadn’t been able to resist a wild moment of temptation, was more than she should be asked to bear. But he’d have to tell her. It was no good waiting till the day. But he wouldn’t mention it straight away. He’d pray about it and get it sorted in his own mind first.

But then Peter realized he wouldn’t be the first person Kate had told, not by a long chalk. Perhaps the whole village had already tumbled to the situation that would arise that weekend: his two children meeting their real mother for the first time. If he had his life to live all over again, would he have done what he did had he known the consequences?

The wine glass, which was washed and polished to within an inch of its life, was standing upside down in the middle of Maggie’s gleaming old oak table, waiting for the arrival of her guests. There was no fire tonight, only the light from the small reading lamp with the red cloth placed over it to make the room more . . . intriguing. She was huddled in the chair beside the fireplace, sipping vodka, which she’d been told wouldn’t leave the smell of drink on her breath. Did she need that vodka? Yes, indeed she did.

Nothing had felt right since that night when she’d had that message from her Dave. Bless his little cotton socks. When Kate had said there was a letter from the office for her, she was sure it was to say she was being sacked, and that it was yet another punishment for doing the Ouija board. But, it was to tell her about a pay rise, and to an extent, her confidence in herself and her ability to be in charge of her own life returned. That was until she recollected Dave’s words again about getting the washing machine before it was too late. What had that meant?

A discreet tap at the door made her hide her vodka glass in the cupboard beside the fireplace. With her face wreathed in smiles, she opened the door and let the Senior
sisters in. They gave her their money, which they could ill afford, and chose their favourite seats at the table.

‘No fire tonight?’

‘You’ve not lit the fire.’

‘No, thought it was warm enough. Five of you in here, and the room’s only small.’

‘There’ll be six coming.’

‘Six tonight.’

‘Who’s that then? No one’s said anything to me.’

‘Her ladyship.’

‘Lady Muck.’

Maggie shivered in horror at the prospect of Muriel being present. ‘Who?’

‘You know, Lady Sheila.’

‘Lady Bissett.’

Maggie sweated with relief. ‘Oh! Sheila Bissett! What’s she coming for?’

‘No idea.’

‘No idea.’

There was a loud rat-a-tat at the door.