Scandal in the Village (3 page)

The following morning Peter called in the Store for a few things he needed. Seeing Jimbo serving at the meat counter he called across, ‘Good morning, Jimbo!’

‘Morning, Peter! Nice day.’

‘It is indeed. Lifts the spirits no end.’

There came a chorus of ‘Good morning, Rector’ and then the general hubbub recommenced. The Store was extremely busy for so early in the morning. There were three people waiting to pay at the till, a clutch of people taking advantage of the free coffee machine and gossiping by the ice-cream cabinet while they did so, and two people clustered around the post office grill listening intently to a story Linda was telling them from the other side.

He gladly embraced the sounds and smells of the Store, for not only was the weather uplifting this morning but coming in the Store was too. One was drawn in as though by a magnet to the warm welcoming atmosphere Jimbo had created: to the inviting displays, the bright lights, so clean, so smart, so enticing it was extremely difficult to leave without buying something. Jimbo might have been a merchant banker but he was a born shopkeeper too.

From the vivid colours of the greengrocery to the smart businesslike post office counter it was all so appealing and best of all his prices were competitive too, even though it was the only place to shop in the village.

Drifts of the conversations came to him as he studied the selection of toothbrushes.

‘I’m telling you, I know. I saw. Dicky and Georgie have gone away together.’

‘Noooo! They can’t have.’

‘They have. Her and Bryn had that row in the bar the other night and apparently, after Lady Bissett’d broken her leg and gone orf to ’ospital, it went from bad to worse. It’s not right all that rowing in the bar.’

‘Tisn’t. I agree. But going off together! That’s a bit much. Poor Bryn. I’d no idea that was the way the wind was blowing.’

‘Neither ’ad I and I wouldn’t have known if it hadn’t been for the baby waking early and I was standing at the window rocking him and I saw Georgie come out of the pub and Dicky pull up in his car and she got in. She only had a small case so they can’t be going for long. All tarted up she was and no mistake. I tell yer there’s advantages in living at number three!’

‘And ’im the Scout leader! Disgusting I calls it. Perhaps he was only giving her a lift to the station.’

‘Got yer rose coloured spectacles on then this morning? So why wasn’t he at Scouts last night then?’

The coffee drinkers were discussing other news.

‘I see Lady Templeton’s back.’

‘Well, she won’t say a thing, you know how kindly she always speaks of everybody.’

‘Not always, she has been known to have her say.’

‘She won’t like old Mrs Charter-Plackett telling her what to do though will she?’

‘No, she won’t. And I’ll tell you who else won’t like her taking liberties.’ The speaker nodded her head in the direction of the door marked
Private
. ‘Mrs Jones. How Mr Charter-Plackett manages to keep the peace with ’er lording it over the mail-order office I’ll never know. Still adds a bit of spice to life, doesn’t it? Where would we be without someone to talk about?’

Peter, trying hard not to listen to these snippets of news, finally settled on a toothbrush and began contemplating the razor blades, hoping he’d remember which kind he used. He heard Mrs Jones call from Jimbo’s mail-order office.

‘Mr Charter-Plackett! Was that the Rector came in a minute ago?’

‘The man himself. Do you want a word?’

Mrs Jones came through into the Store. ‘I do. Bit private. Is it all right if the Rector comes into the back? Would you mind, sir?’

Peter had a very good idea what she wanted to see him about. ‘I’m in a hurry, Mrs Jones.’

‘Won’t take long.’

She asked him to sit on her stool and propped herself against the racks where she stored Harriet’s Country Cousin jams and marmalades.

‘I’ve never had a lot of time for Sheila Bissett. She’s a bossy interfering person who likes all her own way,
but
I had a phone call yesterday from the Duchess, sorry, Mrs Charter-Plackett.’

‘Ahhh!’

‘You know then.’

‘I did ask her not to do anything until I’d had a word with Sheila.’

‘Well, she told me that I was moved from being in charge of the window-sills to doing the small display we always put in the choir vestry. I’ve done the window-sills for years. I have to admit that since Sheila took charge my window-sills have improved out of all recognition. I’ve liked what she’s suggested and gone along with it. We’ve an understanding she and I. But I’m not being demoted to doing the choir vestry display. That’s a kid’s job.’

‘I see. Did she give you a reason?’

‘Something about the window-sills need to be coordinated with the rest of the church and it’ll be better if the people doing the church itself do them. Meaning she’s doing the church in place of Sheila, so she wants a bigger slice of the action. As you know, I don’t like causing trouble,’ mentally Peter raised his eyebrows at this remark, ‘but I had to say something.’

‘Leave it with me.’

‘You’ll have to move fast, she’s rung I don’t know how many people. They’re all up in arms.’

‘Oh dear.’

She nodded her head in the direction of the Store. ‘You see it’s a bit difficult for me working here and the Duchess being his mother, can’t say too much can I?’

‘I’m sure Jimbo knows his mother for what she is.’

‘Maybe, but she is his mother after all. Got to press on, Rector. I’ll wait to hear.’

‘Right. I think she’s only trying to help because of Sheila’s accident.’

‘No, Rector, she’s taking charge. There’s a difference.’

Peter paid for his shopping and went back to the rectory. He’d been in his study only a few minutes when Sylvia came in with his coffee.

‘Thank you, Sylvia, here, look, I’ll make a space.’ He moved some papers further along his desk and she put down his cup.

‘I expect they’ve all had a word have they, Rector?’

‘About what?’

‘About the Duchess going behind Sheila Bissett’s back and reorganising all our arrangements?’

‘Indeed they have. But I’m quite sure Sheila won’t allow her to.’

‘I think Sheila’s too poorly to have any choice in the matter, she must be, she’s let the Duchess have her precious file.’

‘Well, Sylvia, I think we can just wait and see. I’m sure she means well.’

‘She also went up to the Big House yesterday afternoon and sweet-talked them into letting her borrow lots of potted plants from the glasshouses so it’s going to look more like a garden centre than anything. Also she’s going to buy palms and rubber plants and charge them to the church. It’s going to look ridiculous.’

‘Charge them to the church?’

‘Yes.’

‘I did warn her to tread carefully.’

‘Well, if that’s the Duchess treading carefully, heaven alone knows what’ll happen if she puts the boot in. And Lady Templeton has been compulsorily retired, too.’

Peter smiled at her. ‘Leave it with me. Thanks for the coffee.’

After Sylvia had left Peter sipped his coffee while he thought up a way to soften Grandmama’s overbearing scheming. He’d ask Caroline. Her commonsense approach to life most often produced an answer for him to questions of this kind. After all, she was on the committee and might resolve the problem for him. Grandmama was well meaning but so domineering. He glanced at the study clock. Eleven. Three hours before she got home. Somehow problems never seemed so bad when she was home.

But he had this niggling worry about Caroline. Nothing specific, but he knew things weren’t right for her. They never had secrets, well only that one which he’d handled so badly he’d nearly lost Caroline, and the guilt had made him want to die. But not now. No secrets now, except … He picked up the photograph he kept on his desk. It was of her and the twins taken about two years ago. Alex so like himself and Beth dear little Beth … He shut his mind off from thinking about whom she was like, with her blonde hair and rosy rounded cheeks. With the best will in the world you couldn’t say she resembled Caroline.

The phone rang.

‘Turnham Malpas Rectory, Peter Harris speaking.’

‘Peter, it’s Harriet Charter-Plackett. Is Caroline there?’

‘She’s taking surgery this morning, she won’t be back until about two-ish.’

‘Ah! I need to speak to her about tonight, the Harvest Committee. Ask her to ring as soon as she gets in? It’s urgent.’

‘Sure. Are you cancelling it With Sheila not being there?’

There was a pause and then Harriet answered, ‘Not Exactly. But it’s urgent.’

‘Understood.’

Caroline returned Harriet’s call from the telephone in the study and Peter couldn’t understand the intrigue which was afoot. After she’d put down the handset he asked her what was going on.

Caroline tapped the side of her nose With her forefinger and said, ‘It’s a secret, the fewer people know the better.’

‘Darling!’

‘It’s better you don’t know. Has Sylvia left my lunch out?’

‘She has. What’s Harriet up to?’

‘Will you have a drink with me, tea, juice, coffee?’

‘No, thanks. Will Jimbo like this secret plan?’

In truth Jimbo didn’t. At that very moment, just like Peter he was questioning
his
wife about her phone calls and Harriet was answering him with undisguised glee.

‘We’ve all rung each other up and decided to boycott the meeting.’

‘Why?’

‘Because your mother thinks she is taking us over and we’re not putting up with it.’

He’d looked at her in astonishment. ‘You mean mother’s going to be there at the meeting and no one else?’

‘Exactly. Sheila told Caroline yesterday there was no way she would be able to cope with getting to the meeting so that’s what we’ve decided, we’re not going either. I wish I was a fly on the wall and could see your mother’s face when she realises no one’s turning up.’

‘How could you do that to her, Harriet?’

‘Very easily.’

‘She’s your mother-in-law.’

‘You don’t need to remind me. I know!’

‘I think that is the unkindest thing I have ever known you do.’

‘I beg your pardon.’

‘You heard.’

‘Whose side are you on?’

‘Yours, of course. But …’

‘You are siding with your mother, ergo you are
not
on my side.’.

‘But there are limits, and in this case …’

‘Sorry, Jimbo, but none of us is going to the meeting and that’s that You’d do well to remember the promise you made to me before she came. You promised me you’d back me against your mother in any dispute.’

‘I always do.’

Harriet pointed her finger at him. ‘You’re not. You pledged yourself to be on my side. I didn’t want her to come to live here, we’ve never got on and we never will. She’s an interfering, bossy, inconsiderate, overbearing, insensitive woman with no finer feelings
at all
. But, she’s your mother and I agreed I wouldn’t object to her coming to live near her only family in her … well, I was going to say in her declining years but I take that back because they’re not declining, not one bit. But I warn you, you are skating on very, very thin ice here …’

Jimbo was shocked at the threat in Harriet’s voice and decided to deflect his anger from her onto other members of the committee. ‘I’m appalled at Caroline and Liz not going, the others perhaps but not them. Caroline especially.’

‘You can be as appalled as you like because it won’t make one jot of difference, we are not going to the meeting. Someone has to take a stand.’

‘For a person who has in the past complained about Sheila Bissett’s tactlessness and bossiness you amaze me.’

‘Do I indeed? Well, being annoyed with her is something quite different from standing by and allowing the niche she has carved for herself to be dismantled piece by piece by your battleaxe of a mother.’

Harriet stood arms akimbo glaring at him.

‘Does Sheila know about this?’

‘No. We daren’t tell her because she can’t keep a secret as we all know to our cost.’

‘Is Peter privy to it?’

‘We’ve all taken a vow of silence, so I’m pretty certain Caroline won’t have told him.’

‘If he knew he’d be livid. He’ll blame me. I’ve a good mind to ring him.’

‘Don’t even think of it. Because if you do …’

‘Yes?’

‘If you do … your life won’t be worth living and I mean that. I have
never
been more serious in my life.’

On that Harriet left the sitting-room and went into the kitchen, crashing about in there as though she was demolishing it cupboard by cupboard. Jimbo knew that things were bad when she was like that. He did think of quietly going round to his mother’s house and telling her what was afoot, but changed his mind when he recollected how much he loved his home to be a haven, not just for him, but for his children too. There was no doubt about it, this time for the sake of peace it was his mother who would have to be sacrificed.