Scandal in the Village (23 page)

In pride of place at the front in the rectory pew alongside Caroline sat Mr Fitch. The role of benefactor sat well on his shoulders, and he couldn’t resist a gracious smile in Ralph and Muriel’s direction when Peter spoke of his generosity in paying for the restoration of the bells.

Peter also thanked everyone who had contributed to the Scout Band Fund. ‘We are all so proud. Scout bands are quite rare nowadays, and we are very privileged to have one of our own. I understand that in the future they are planning to compete in brass band competitions. We wish them all success. Dicky?’

Dicky’s face lit up with pride. He stood up and went to the altar steps to speak. ‘Unaccustomed as I am to public speaking …’ – he was interrupted here with a huge laugh – ‘I should just like to say how very, very grateful all the Scouts are for the generosity of the people of Turnham Malpas, and Little Derehams and Penny Fawcett and lots of other people in the surrounding area. Without their money and without their gifts of instruments they no longer had a need for, this band would never have got off the ground. In particular a big thank you to Sir Ralph for buying us such an absolutely spanking big drum, the Royal Marines would be proud to own it. If I was a bit taller I’d have a go myself!’

There came another burst of kindly laughter.

‘After the service the band will be giving a short concert, very short actually because we’re still beginners, to which you are all invited. We were going to perform in the churchyard but there’s so many of you here that we’ve moved the venue to the Green. There are lots of people I should thank, too numerous to mention, but I wish specially to thank Gilbert Johns, for all his wonderful help. Thank you, one and all.’

The congregation gathered in the road by the gate to the church hall and the band stood in formation on the Green facing them. Gilbert climbed onto an old upturned wooden crate from the Royal Oak, and with his baton raised he gathered the boys’ eyes and brought them in on a clashing of cymbals and a roll on the drum. Sheila Bissett who happened to be standing beside Grandmama felt very emotional. Dear Gilbert, he was such a lovely son-in-law and here he was conducting for all the world as if he was in the Albert Hall. He’d make a lovely father in the summer when the baby came and she’d be a grandmother and wouldn’t it be fun. She felt Grandmama give her a nudge. ‘Isn’t this wonderful? They’re really quite good considering.’

Thinking there was about to be a slur cast on Gilbert’s name Sheila asked sharply, ‘Considering what?’

‘How new to it they all are. Your Gilbert’s done wonders.’

Sheila preened herself, and smiled fondly at Gilbert’s energetic back. ‘He has hasn’t he?’

‘But the bells, that’ll have to stop.’

‘The bells?’

‘Yes, I know you’ll support me. I’m going to object.’

‘What is there to object about?’

‘The noise. We don’t need bells to remind us what time it is, we have all got clocks.’

‘Shhhh! I’m listening.’ Sheila thought well here’s one who won’t be objecting. She wouldn’t allow herself to be persuaded, not by the Duchess, never again. Sheila took considerable pleasure in saying, ‘Don’t count on me for support, I love ’em.’

Grandmama was disappointed. When the concert concluded she joined in the applause and general admiration of the boys and as the crowd dispersed to their Sunday dinners or a pint in the Royal Oak she caught up with Dicky. ‘Splendid, quite splendid. We’re lucky to have you Dicky. Everything working out all right now you’re full-time?’

‘Wonderful, quite wonderful, we’re so happy, Georgie and I.’

‘Heard from Bryn yet?’

‘’Fraid not. Got to go, see to the boys yer know. Thanks for everything.’

‘My pleasure.’ She spotted Jimbo and Harriet talking to Peter.

As she drew close she could hear Peter saying, ‘Who would have thought five years ago that we would have such a wonderful service as we’ve had this morning. The bells rehung, the church filled with young people, the band! Wonderful. I’m so thrilled. Everyone’s made such an effort.’

Jimbo clapped him on the back. ‘Not far to go to see why. It’s you, you know. All of it’s happening because of you.’

‘It’s the village itself that’s doing it in truth.’

Grandmama interrupted. ‘No, no, no, we owe it all to you, Peter. All to you. We’re putty in your hands, one look from those eyes of yours and our souls are laid bare and we do Exactly what you want of us.’ She tapped his arm and looking up into his face she said, ‘
But
I’m calling in a favour.’

Peter’s heart sank. He’d known from the first there’d be a day of reckoning for her sorting out Dicky and Georgie and Bel. ‘Yes?’

‘The bells. They’re far too noisy and I expect you intend them ringing for the eight o’clock service too after today, well, I’m sorry, but it won’t do. They’ll have to be muffled or something or the peal shortened. They’re enough to wake the dead.’

Peter was appalled. ‘But …’

Jimbo, remembering all his hours of practice, was outraged. He grasped her arm and said through clenched teeth, ‘Lunch, Mother? Now!’

‘Let go my arm, dear.’ She pushed at him to make him release her, but he wouldn’t. ‘Jimbo!’

Jimbo still gripping her arm said, ‘Sorry about this, Peter, just ignore her. Come along, Mother. Lunch, right now.
Please
.’

Grandmama, furious at Jimbo’s manhandling of her, tried again to thrust off his hand. Reluctantly he let go.

Peter feeling genuinely upset said quietly in his saddest voice, ‘Mrs Charter-Plackett, I’ve longed for those bells to ring, and to have found someone willing to provide the money for their restoration, seemed heavensent, and I want them to ring for many many years to come. They proclaim the message of the church in a supremely special way. I wouldn’t be surprised if they can hear them as far away as the bypass. There can’t be anyone alive who fails to be touched in one way or another by the sound of church bells.’ He smiled down at her. ‘So you do see the wider implications of our bells don’t you? They’re for the world to hear, not just for us, are they not?’

Jimbo, his lips pressed together, his face white with temper, waited for her reply. He swore if she still objected after Peter’s impassioned plea, he would personally throtle her out here on the Green in front of everyone, because despite her revelations to him, he really couldn’t take any more of her aggravating ways.

Harriet, trying hard to be kinder like she’d promised she would, laid her hand on Jimbo’s arm to comfort him and waited in hope.

Grandmama looked up at the splendid young man that was Peter: six feet five, with his halo of red-blond hair, and his all-seeing bright blue eyes, and that special charisma that was his and his alone, and decided she wouldn’t, indeed couldn’t, call in her favour. Couldn’t disappoint him.

She smiled at him and said, ‘My dear Peter.’ She swallowed hard. ‘My dear Peter, put like that how could I object to such a wonderful witness. You’re quite right, the whole world needs reminding of what you stand for.’ She patted his arm and turned to Jimbo saying with an imperious note in her voice, ‘Lunch, I think you said, well come along then, the children will be home before us. Don’t dilly-dally.’