Regret to Inform You... (15 page)

Whilst Major de Maine read from
Corinthians
, Arthur was pleased to see that St Mary's was full. He had felt it inappropriate to question the theological meaning of a “send-off ”, but knew that a full church was a suitable expression of how highly Rose Cruise was regarded. After the burial next to where her husband had been laid many years earlier, Arthur tried to speak, albeit briefly, with each person as they moved across to the green where the ladies, he was not always sure who this wonderful band of ladies were, had prepared cakes and sandwiches along with cups of tea. All had been set up near to Violet Rushton's shop so that hot water was readily available.

Some mourners had drifted away, but small groups of villagers were still chatting whilst Olivia Atkins, Pauline Richards and Eliza Carey led the way in clearing the plates and cups from the wake. Liz Smith had got the washing up well underway in Violet Rushton's scullery when she passed that task over to Ruth Groves, apologising for leaving before all was done; but other helpers knew that she needed to get back
to
check that her mother was as comfortable as possible. Fred Richards had commandeered two helpers to move the four trestle-tables back to their resting place in the church vestry.

‘It was a good service, remembering an elderly villager for whom many clearly had a high regard. Thank you for your thoughtful words. We are, indeed, only a brief speck in the history of this earth and it is no bad thing for all of us to be reminded of our frailty and transitory place in time.'

Arthur was faintly surprised, but grateful to hear Major de Maine's words. He had found himself in one of the small groups left on the green, which included the de Maines and Mr and Mrs Mansfield, whose friendship seemed to have grown since the farm party in early April.

‘Indeed, Vicar,' concurred Jack Mansfield. ‘I would add my thanks as I would for two other village matters.'

‘Thank you, but what are these other matters to which you refer?' asked Arthur, slightly bewildered.

‘Well, firstly, the extra street lights which are now in place around Pond Corner and at the other end of the village near Sandy Lane. They really will make a difference when we move into winter.'

Arthur blushed slightly as he gently held up a hand as if any further words would embarrass him. ‘Thanks for the lights should go to the entire lighting committee and more than anyone else we should thank Fred Richards who persuaded one or two who questioned the cost involved.' Referring then to the young Methodist minister who had just taken up residence in the manse, Arthur added: ‘It has also been wonderful having the Reverend Reggie Gregg on the committee; he, too, has a persuasive nature.'

The major smiled and turning to his friend said, ‘Jack, you mentioned two things for which we should thank the vicar. I see he is too modest to ask about the second, so I will.'

‘I refer,' replied the well-built farmer, ‘to our new village nurse. I was chatting to her earlier and she is delighted to
be
in Rusfield. Undoubtedly, she will be a great asset to the community.' He turned to Arthur and added, ‘Thank you for that.'

‘But really,' replied Arthur, ‘I had very little to do with that either. There has been a move in many parts of the country to provide more immediate medical help. I simply raised this with Sir Lancelot Prestwish, whom I knew was chairman of several hospital groups and has a big say in such matters.'

‘That's as may be,' responded the major, ‘but you got things moving. As we are four miles from Steepleton and do not have a telegraph office in the village, we are helpless in an emergency. The nurse will be on hand to help.'

‘And she seems a very good person: really down-to-earth,' interjected Mabel Mansfield. ‘She was telling me that she was at the Mildmay Memorial Hospital in North London, which trains many nurses, and was happy there, but had always hoped to work in the country. Let us hope Rusfield suits her.' Turning to the de Maines, she added, ‘You will come back with us for tea, won't you? Tommy Bruce can drive you home later.' Farewells were exchanged and the four friends walked off towards West Lane where a smart carriage with a patient pair of greys awaited them.

‘They really are most pleasant people,' said Eleanor to her husband as the quartet went out of earshot. ‘When I first met the major I thought he was aloof and didn't really want to have much to do with other villagers, but I was very wrong, as first impressions often are.'

‘My love, that sounds just like me, yet I never seem to learn. But did you know that it's the major who has made a cottage available for Nurse Hazlett, virtually rent free. I think he probably owns all four of those cottages over in Meadow Way, where the Smiths and the two Johnson families live.'

‘I think you're right, Arthur. Judith Johnson said as much to me a while ago and added how fortunate she is with the low rent. Of course, the end cottage had been empty since old
Aubrey
Rayfield died back in February and just after Easter Willy Johnson was doing some roof repairs and painting the inside of the cottage. Nurse Hazlett remarked how clean and light it was inside.'

As Eleanor spoke she moved on a little before saying, ‘Arthur, it's still pleasant enough to go for a short walk along Church Stream. It will give us the chance just to talk through my dilemma.' She took her husband's hand, smiled and they crossed the green and narrow track near Miss Rushton's shop, moving on to the well-trodden path that led alongside the small, sparkling stream.

‘It's as well the ground is firm after all the recent dry weather,' she remarked, looking down at her dainty shoes. ‘Well, my love, I've told you everything and yet I still don't really know what to do. How about you being the parish priest and advising me?'

‘You're teasing, darling. When you told me after my parents had returned home about getting that letter from Mrs Payne-Croft, I felt things would be difficult for you. I understand your dilemma.'

‘You are right, Arthur. Yes, I was pleased to be recognised as a person supporting women's right to vote and I was happy to go to the meeting last Friday. It was good to know that there are many others who feel the same. I agreed with the speaker that strong action is needed to show the government that we mean to change the law and I can support such things as chaining oneself to railings, but her passion seemed to tip over into a dangerous obsession.'

‘From what you've told me, Eleanor, it was extremely brave of you to speak out as you did. When you mentioned all the glares you got, I felt almost frightened for you.'

‘Well,' replied Eleanor recalling the evening all too clearly, ‘I hope I didn't leave anyone in doubt that I supported the movement, but that I would not embark on anything that might injure or cause great distress to anyone. I felt I had to
say
something. I think I was rather silly to do that, but it just came out.'

Gently squeezing her hand, Arthur said, ‘You know I don't agree with the present suffrage movement, though I think there will be a time when everyone has the vote. I just don't believe that time is now. We both know each other's feelings well enough, but it certainly wasn't silly for you to speak out. It was brave of you.'

‘Arthur, I love you for not opposing my view; most husbands aren't like you. It's wonderful that we can disagree, but still respect what the other thinks and does.' Her clasp of his hand tightened, causing him to stop. Eleanor stood on tiptoe and kissed him. ‘I think you've really solved my dilemma. Thank you. Come on, it's time we turned round. I really do fancy a nice cup of tea. Race you home!'

As she gained three paces, Eleanor stopped, turned, smiled and said, ‘I think it not comely that our parish priest be seen running.'

T
WENTY

Saturday, 22 June

‘At least it isn't raining this morning, but it is so grey, as if the weather has gone into mourning since old Mrs Cruise's funeral,' Robert Berry commented to Sammy Hatfield, good friends since they had played at the farm party. Indeed, there had barely been a day without rain. The roads and footpaths were awash and no one could remember the stream by the vicarage being so high. The village green squelched with water and the fields of wheat and barley were like paddy fields.

The pond had overflowed into parts of Wood Lane and Pond Street, making it an irresistible pathway for the children fortunate enough to live at the east end of the village. Mr Watts had told the children to bring a spare pair of shoes, his newness as master making him unaware that many of the scholars only had one pair. After a gentle word from Arthur he sensibly relented in his advice and now many children padded round their classrooms barefoot or in stockinged feet.

Peter Woods' light postal delivery on this unusually dry morning had included two for the vicarage and it was an hour later that Eleanor and Arthur, returning from a visit to Liz Smith, collected the letters from the hall. The first bore a Canadian stamp; Eleanor wondered whether Peter would be asking for it on his next visit. It was from Fred Bamford
who
had emigrated two years previously. ‘It's good to see that young Fred is getting on well. I'm sure his parents are very proud of him,' Arthur said. ‘This other letter is from the bishop's palace, so I can't imagine it will be very exciting.' He slit the typed envelope open, drew out the single sheet, read and looked aghast.

‘What is it darling?' asked Eleanor. ‘Not bad news, I hope.'

‘I can't really believe what I'm reading. It's from the dean. I hardly dare show it to you.' A deep frown accompanied the letter as he passed it to Eleanor.

My dear Reverend Windle,

I regret that rather longer has elapsed between our meeting and this letter, but I have been particularly busy since taking up my appointment as dean. Following our conversation I made a written report to the bishop and he has instructed me to write to you.

This important matter concerns your wife's activities with the Suffrage Movement which is clearly against the well-being of the nation and of the church. I was at least pleased to learn that you did not support your wife's activities, but was alarmed you felt unable to press your views upon her. I hardly need to mention the group's outrages that have been directed against the church, causing much damage and distress.

I trust that you will have now prevailed upon your wife to abandon such a wanton and criminal course. The bishop agrees with me that when we learn of such a change, we may continue our discussion regarding your future within our beloved church.

Arthur sat quietly whilst Eleanor read. She read it through again and, to Arthur's surprise, broke into laughter. ‘What a man! How can anyone, least of all one who calls himself a man of God, write like that? Suppose we invite him to the vicarage
so
he and I can have a proper debate. Would that not be a good idea, Arthur?'

Arthur could not help giving a rueful smile. ‘Eleanor, my dear, I don't think it would be a good idea at all; the poor man would never be the same again. Let's just ignore it.'

‘I agree, Arthur. He seems a very embittered man. Maybe one day our paths will cross, but I agree with you, just ignore it.'

The unrelenting rain promoted many worries. The children at the Sunday school, almost all in the village, were looking forward to their annual fun day. Abraham Richards and his friends were eagerly anticipating the big athletics event at the Crystal Palace although with all the rain, Abraham was relieved to know that the grass track had been replaced by a cinder one. The clash of the Sunday school treat and athletics meeting was deeply felt by at least two villagers; Grace would love to have seen Abraham race and he would have been happy to help with the children on their special day.

Three days earlier Abraham, Tommy Bruce, Streaky Bacon and Dan Reynolds had excitedly gathered round a silver and blue motor car which appeared in the forecourt of Spinney Farm. ‘Well lads, what do you think?' asked Jack Mansfield, giving them a broad smile and the silver bonnet of his latest acquisition a loving pat.

‘It's amazing, sir,' gasped Tommy. ‘Where did you get it from? It's beautiful.'

‘It's a new model, a Phoenix, and it has a powerful 11.9 horsepower engine. As you know, Mrs Mansfield and I went away last weekend. Well,' continued the farmer, ‘we visited friends in Cambridge and they drove us down to Letchworth. You've probably heard about it; it's been built in the latest fashion of a garden city. Well, there's a small factory there producing these and the owner gave me a drive: I took over and that was that! Coming home and knowing there was so much mud and water lying on the village roads, I took the longer
way
in through Applewick, but it's still got a lot of muddy splash marks. I'm going to drive it into the green barn. Dan, would you fill up some buckets and give me a hand washing it down, please?'

Two hours later while Abraham was stripping down an old harrow, a job that the steady rain did allow, Mr Mansfield came in. ‘Abraham, a word with you. I know that on Saturday you've got a really important race. I would like to see it and I suggest that I drive you to the track. It's only seventy miles. What time does the meeting start?'

‘Well, the meeting starts at two o'clock and mine is the fourth event, which would make it around a quarter to three. But sir, are you sure? It's really so kind of you and I would love it,' answered the rather startled Abraham. ‘I was going with my parents, but they had already promised to help with the Sunday school treat. Anyway, I'm hoping to run next month at the Great Stadium on the other side of London, so they are going to that.'

‘Well. That's settled then. You be here for eight o'clock. I can get Doris to put something together for us, but make sure you are wearing something warm and let's hope it's a dry day. That would certainly make a change.'