Scandal in the Village (22 page)

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Authors: Rebecca Shaw

BOOK: Scandal in the Village
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Chapter 22

‘Peter? Oh there you are. I’ll be off then. My appointment’s at eleven so I’ve no time to spare.’ Caroline pulled on her gloves and smiled at him.

He got up from his desk and looking gravely down at her, he smoothed her cheek gently with the back of his hand. ‘I’m coming.’ He raised his hand to silence her as soon as he saw protest coming into her face. ‘I won’t brook any argument. I am coming. I will not have you face this alone. That is what being married is all about. Support. Just need to wash my hands, the print’s come off all over my fingers. Won’t be a minute.’

‘I’m better facing things on my own.’

‘This time I’m not listening. I’ve put an end to that, like I said.’

While he washed his hands and got his cloak Caroline stood looking out of his study window at the village. It was a bitterly cold day, with a cruel breeze blowing. She could just see Grandmama battling her way along, with her fur hat on and boots, and a huge scarf around her shoulders on top of her fur coat. Grandmama was blessed annoying with her interfering ways, but at least she’d solved the problem of Dicky and Bel. The Royal Oak was going from strength to strength with Georgie at the helm and Dicky enlivening everyone. Bel living there seemed to be working out too. She recollected hearing Bel crying in their spare bedroom the night their house had been attacked, and going to sit on the end of her bed and talking to her for what seemed hours. Poor Bel! Such a quandary for her. A variation on the eternal triangle in a way. The three of them just needed Bryn to make contact and then perhaps they could finally sort things out.

Caroline heard Peter coming racing down the stairs. ‘I’m ready. Come on. We’ll go in my car. Sylvia’s cleaning upstairs, I’ve told her we’re both going.’

‘I expect she’s pleased.’

Peter looked at her as he fastened the clasp on his cloak. ‘Is she?’

‘She will be. Don’t pretend you don’t know what I mean. It’s a conspiracy between the two of you.’

Peter had the grace to look embarrassed. ‘Well, yes, you’re right. She does approve of me putting my foot down.’

‘We’ll go in the Volvo shall we? Mine’s too small for comfort for you.’

‘That’s what I thought. In any case you haven’t got the all-clear for driving yet. Right.’

Just as they were taking the sharp left turn at the signpost for Culworth Caroline put her hand on Peter’s thigh and said quietly, ‘Thank you for coming with me. I appreciate it. Suddenly I’ve gone dreadfully afraid.’

‘That’s understandable, but whatever the outcome, whatever the specialist says, you’ve always got me. I’m right up there with you, I just hope it helps.’

‘It does, more than you know. I can’t bear being told there’s only a small chance that I shall see the children growing up. I do want to be able to live long enough to see how they turn out.’ The hand resting on his thigh clenched and thumped him lightly. ‘There’s still so much left to do, and I want to see you when you’re sixty, and seventy and eighty. What a lovely dignified old gentleman you will be.’

‘That was one of the questions I tested myself with when I first met you. I realised you were the first woman I had ever known whom I wanted to know in old age.’ He paused for a moment and followed on with ‘And we shall, grow old together.’ Taking a hand off the steering wheel he took hold of hers and squeezed it tightly. ‘That’s a promise.’

‘I wish I had your confidence. All mine has ebbed away this morning. Every last drop has gone.’

They were silent for the next few miles and then Peter said. ‘Faith that’s what you have to have, faith that you’ll get the all-clear and having got the all-clear, you and I will go away on our own for a few days.’

‘How on earth could we manage that?’

Peter braked at the lights. Looking straight ahead he said, ‘I’ve organised it.’

‘How?’

‘I’ve arranged for your mother and father to come down. Your mother can’t wait to have the twins to herself.’

‘Peter! She’s never said a word! I should have been consulted. I knew nothing about it. You never asked me.’

‘I know I didn’t. It’s a decision I made for your sake, and for mine. We both need to recuperate. It’s been a long haul these last three months.’

‘You can’t possibly go away at this time of year so close to Christmas. What about all the work there is to do with the Midnight Service, and the old people’s Christmas Lunch and the Scouts’ Christmas Party and Christmas morning and things and there’s …’

‘Yes?’

‘You’ve so much to do.’

‘I haven’t, it’s all done. Anne Parkin has got all the typing done, the order of service, the special carols, everything, I’ve checked it all and it’s ready for printing out, Sheila Bissett has organised all the decorations, with I might add Grandmama’s invaluable assistance, although I understand from Gilbert that Sheila’s file is firmly in her hands and Grandmama is not allowed even a peep …’

Caroline laughed. ‘Really?’

‘Yes, there’s a kind of armed truce, how long it will last I don’t know. Gilbert has arranged the choir anthems with my enthusiastic approval, Mrs Peel and I have had a long consultation about the organ music, Willie has got his lists ready and all I have to do is go away and enjoy myself.’

‘How on earth have you managed to do all that so early?’

‘Determination, my darling. Determination that you and I were having a week in Crete together, all on our own, re-establishing ourselves.’

‘Crete? How wonderful! I’ve always wanted to go there.’

‘I though it might be fairly warm still and not too far away. We shall be able to leave all our cares behind us and just wander about, just the two of us. Together. On our own.’

With an amused grin on her face Caroline replied, ‘If I didn’t know you better I’d think you were talking in terms of a second honeymoon.’

‘I am. I can’t wait. It’s been so long. I’ll park in my place and then we’ll walk through.

*

He stood up when he saw her come back into the corridor. Her eyes searched for him amongst the waiting patients and having found him they looked at one another long and hard. He’d spent the hour and a half she’d been away praying like he’d never prayed before. The confidence she’d lost he had also lost, but he had feared to admit to her he was as much at sea as she. He daren’t smile before she did, in case the news was grim. Then as she walked towards him he realised her eyes were shining with joy, and relief ran through every vein in his body and filled him with profound rejoicing.

Caroline came close to him and looking up she said, ‘I can’t quite believe it but … it does appear things are looking quite good.’ Her face shone with love. ‘You were right to be confident after all. I’m so grateful to be …’ The rest of what she had to say was smothered by Peter’s cloak as he hugged her tight.

‘Thank God. Thank God. Let’s leave this place. Quick. I’ve had enough to last a lifetime.’ He grasped her hand and hastened her out. As they crossed the car park he released his hold on her hand and with clenched fists raised above his head punched the air shouting, ‘Hallelujah!’

‘Peter, don’t, everyone will hear you.’

‘And why not. What news. What a relief.’

‘Another check-up in three months and then six months after that. I’m just so grateful. It really was touch and go.’

‘More than you realise.’

‘Of course I realised, I am a doctor after all. I knew more than most.’

‘But they never told you that your heart stopped did they?’

‘Did it?’

‘Yes, about an hour after you came out of theatre.’

‘Oh God, I didn’t know. Oh heavens. I’d no idea. My legs have gone all weak.’

He opened the car door. ‘Here let me help you in. You frightened the life out of me.’

‘You were there?’

‘I was. Mind your coat. That’s it.’

‘I had no idea. No wonder they were so very particular about me. I thought it was because I was a medic, you know, one of their own as you might say. Peter, we need that holiday don’t we? Is it booked?’

‘I’ve an option on it, which I shall confirm this very day. So it’s bells on Sunday and we leave Tuesday.

After lunch Peter called in at the Store to cancel his papers whilst he was away.

Jimbo wrote it down in his order book and as he snapped the book shut he said, ‘Seems to me things have taken a turn for the better if you’re going away.’

‘They have. They’re very pleased at the hospital, the operation appears to have been a success and she doesn’t have to go again for three months. In consequence of which we’re taking a holiday. Her parents are coming down to stay with the children while we go, but they don’t take a morning paper.’

‘I’m delighted, absolutely delighted. Harriet will be beside herself, she’s been so worried.’

‘So have we. I shan’t want to go through all that again. Never again.’

‘I should say not. Big day on Sunday. I’m feeling very nervous, this bell-ringing lark has really got to me. We’ve a rehearsal tonight and tomorrow night and then the real thing Sunday. We intend making enough noise to wake the dead.’

‘You’ve no idea how I’m longing to hear the bells. This business of having recordings and pretending it’s real, well …’

‘Exactly. We’ve got quite a team together you know. There’s ten of us fighting for a chance to ring.’

‘Brilliant. Wonderful. That’s excellent news.’

‘Don’t suppose, Peter, you’ve had any news about who attacked Dicky and Bel’s have you?’

‘None at all. Except, between you and I, I bumped into Mrs Jones … is she here?’ – Jimbo shook his head – ‘into Mrs Jones and I gave her a long look when I asked her if she’d heard any rumours about who’d done it and she avoided my eye. She was obviously very uncomfortable and dashed away as soon as she could. What do you think?’

‘She’s been very cagey with me about it too. Could be Kenny and Terry know something, they’re those kind of people. But if we get the police involved then the press will get to know and then the balloon will go up, oh yes. Excuse me. Bel, the bakery van’s here. See to it will you. One day he’ll arrive on time.’

Bel called across as she went to open the door, ‘They’re a man short; he’s having to do two rounds.’

‘That’s not our fault.’

Peter took his leave. ‘I must be away. Lots to do before Sunday. I’ll give Caroline your good wishes.’

‘Thanks.’ Jimbo touched his boater and then turned his attention to the delivery man. ‘Now, Trevor, this won’t do. It’s three times this week alone that you’ve not got here till the afternoon. Most of my bread trade is in the mornings you know. It’s too late now and I hate selling yesterday’s bread. If it’s late again, I shall refuse to accept the order.’

‘Sorry, Mr Charter-P. We’ve a new roundsman starting tomorrow, so everything will be back to normal. I don’t like delivering late any more than you. I’ll be here in good time tomorrow. Ta-ta for now.’ Jimbo caught him winking at Bel. So … that was the way the wind was blowing.

‘He’s left the delivery note in the tray, Bel, I’ll check it off for you.’ Jimbo picked up the note and unfolded it. ‘
Dear Bel
,’ it read. He quickly refolded it. ‘Here, this is yours I think. Nice chap, you could do worse!’

He laughed and Bel blushed bright red as she recognised the writing. ‘He’s an old friend. That’s all. A friend of Dicky’s. There’s nothing going on.’

‘Come on, Bel, why not? You’ve as much right to a life as anyone else. Go for it, I say.’

‘It’s only about him coming to hear the Scout band on Sunday. Dicky’s organised a performance after the service.’

‘I know. Our boys have been practising for years, well not years, but certainly weeks. I swear I could play the trumpet myself I’ve listened to the tunes so many times. It’s going to be great, what with the bells and the band. What a day.’

Though Turnham Malpas got its fair share of rain it was almost accepted as a matter of course that if they had anything special happening the weather would be fine. This Sunday was no exception. A fact which people in Penny Fawcett and Little Derehams accepted with bad grace. The element of rivalry between the three villages had been rumbling on for generations and good weather on a special day always brought out the animosity all over again. As bedroom curtains in the two villages were drawn back that morning and they all saw the clear cloudless skies and the pale winter sun, they said, ‘Might have known. It’s a lovely day, not a drop of rain in sight. How do they do it?’

Turnham Malpas smug in its own self-righteousness put on its Sunday best and went to the ten o’clock service, but this time for the first time for more years than they could remember the bells rang out across the fields beckoning them to church. Pure and sweet and triumphant.

Perhaps it was the novelty of the bells, or their gratitude for Caroline’s good news, or a simple need to praise their Maker, but whatever had motivated them they stretched Willie’s extra seating to the maximum. Just as he was beginning to think the last ones had found seats the Nightingales arrived, all seven of them. He remembered the old bench which usually stood in the churchyard, wiped the bird dirt off it with an old cloth from the boiler house storeroom, and he and Ralph carried it in and placed it right at the back near the font. Even so two of the children had to sit on the step below the font. The bells rang their final peal, and the ringers wiped their sweating faces and smiled their satisfaction at each other, and Peter and the choir entered and the service began. Peter stood on the altar steps to announce the first hymn. Behind him beside the altar was a beautiful display of flowers arranged by Sheila Bissett, and the old church silver was on display too, gleaming and twinkling in the light from the candle in the wonderful silver candlestick.

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