The New Rector (Tales from Turnham Malpas) (21 page)

‘No one ever found out it was me who’d threatened her, police running round like chickens with their heads cut off.’ She flicked the knife sharply as though decapitating one. ‘But I kept mum. Who’d think a girl of sixteen could bring off a coup like that, eh? They ran round like two chickens with their heads cut off when they found Toria Clark. She was a bloody idiot, challenging me and trying to stop me writing that poster. She didn’t know what power I had. That night I was so full of power nothing and nobody could stop me.’

‘Sharon, are you making all this up?’

‘You stupid old cow, don’t you believe me? Someone’s got to believe me. You’ve got to take notice of what I say, or you’ll be like all the others. My mum never listens to what I say. My dad never listens and our Scott’s not even worth bothering about, the little toad. All my life I’ve heard other children at school saying “This weekend, mum and dad are taking us to Weston for the day and my dad’s promised to take me out in a boat” or they were going to the zoo or up to London. What was Sharon doing? Sitting upstairs with some chocolate watching telly and looking after our Scott. Weekend after weekend. So when I got older I found my own entertainment. I made that Jimbo sit up though when I drowned his cat. He treated me like dirt in his shop, so I paid him back. All the money in the world he has, and thinks he’s so superior.’

‘He works very hard all day and every day. He earns every penny he gets.’

‘More fool him. I like easy money. Have you got any money?’

‘When I go I’ll take that.’

‘Where are you going?’

‘I don’t know but it’ll have to be a long way away because they’ll be after me.’ Sharon’s eyes became crafty. She looked about the room. ‘Where’s Pericles?’

‘In his basket asleep.’

‘Fond of him, are you?’

‘Of course.’

Sharon’s mind darted from one thing to another. ‘If you steal from the church, will something evil happen to you?’

‘Was it you who stole the chalices?’

‘What if it was?’

‘Where are they now?’

‘Under a seat in the Ladies in Culworth Station. Got worried, yer see, stealing from the church, so I thought if I left them there the police would think I’d gone to London, put them off the scent like they do in detective stories.’

Sharon stood up and taking the knife with her, went into the kitchen pushing Muriel in front of her.

Pericles was asleep in his basket. ‘See him? One peep out of you and I shall stick this right through him, right the way through and you’ll be able to hear him screaming.’ She put the point of the knife close to his ribs and prodded him with it. Pericles jumped up and snapped at her.

‘See – even the dog don’t like me. Come back here for a pat, you nasty little thing.
Come here!
’

‘He won’t come if you shout, he’s not used to it.’

Muriel ignored her and scooped him up. The knife quickly arrived at her throat.

‘Put him down, Moo. Do as I say – now! That’s better. I’ve murdered once and I can do it again. The second time is easier, they say.’

She motioned to Muriel to return to the sitting room. They both sat down and remained in silence. If I can keep awake, thought Muriel, she might drop asleep and I can creep out. Oh dear God, if she kills Pericles whatever shall I do? Ralphie, why aren’t you here? This would never have happened if you had been here. Please, Ralphie, come and find me. You’d know something was wrong. If he comes to the door how can I let him know, without Sharon understanding, that something is wrong? Shall I blink my eyes? Talk rubbish? My word, her eyes are beginning to close. I’ll count to one thousand before I get up. It’s three o’clock. No one will be about. The phone box, that’s it – the phone box and 999.
One hundred and four. One hundred and five. One hundred and six
. She didn’t actually murder Stella Palmer,
one hundred and fifty
. Killing with a rounders bat, that was vicious. How dreadful. The clock ticked,
two hundred and two
, the fire crackled and Sharon still sat with her eyes closed.

‘Thought you’d escape, did yer, Moo?’ Sharon had Muriel’s hair in a tight cruel grip. She’d spent the rest of the night tied tightly by her dressing-gown cord to Sharon’s wrist. ‘One move and I shall know. Just one itsy bitsy move and Pericles will be a gonner.’

‘You’ll have to come to the bathroom with me. I want to have a bath. I haven’t washed for two days.’

‘Very well. There’s plenty of hot water. I’ll sit outside the door.’

‘You won’t, you’ll be in there with me.’

‘But you’ll be having a bath.’

‘So? Never seen a woman in her birthday suit before? Something new every day when you’re with me.’

She made Muriel run the bath for her.

‘No bubbles? I like bubbles.’

‘No bubbles, only oil.’

Sharon dropped her clothes on the floor and stood in front of the mirror.

Muriel did open her eyes and wished her body looked like Sharon’s. It was a pity Sharon had abused it so.

When the bathing was over Muriel was forced into the bedroom and made to get out fresh underwear and a skirt and blouse and a cardigan. When Sharon had the outfit on she stood in front of Muriel’s mirror and laughed.

‘Oh God, what a sight. It looks awful on you, but on me it’s a disaster area. Time that Ralphie bought you some clothes with a bit of style. That’s what you lack – style. We’ll go downstairs now and you can make me something else to eat.’

They were halfway down the spiral stairs when a knock came at the door.

The knife-point pricked Muriel’s back very slightly.

‘They might go away. Keep still.’

‘I’ll have to answer. It’s probably the postman with a parcel. I am expecting one.’

Sharon whispered, ‘Answer it then, but I’m right behind you. Where’s Pericles?’

‘Shut in the kitchen.’

They walked like two halves of a pantomime horse towards the front door.

Sharon hid behind the door and Muriel opened it slightly. Thank God it was Ralph.

‘Good morning, Moo. I’ve just been in the tearoom to see you and have a coffee but Jimbo says you’re ill this morning. Is there anything I could get for you?’

‘No, nothing … thank you.’

‘Would you like me to come in and make you some camomile tea or something?’

Ralph looked puzzled, hesitated and then said, ‘Right, I’ll try to get the tickets. I’ll let you know tomorrow. Hope you’ll soon be better.’ He looked her full in the face, waved and went down the path.

The knife-point prodded Muriel somewhere around her kidneys. ‘What you playing at?’

‘I had to tell him. He asked me to let him know and we don’t want him back again asking if I’ve decided to go, do we?’

‘No.’

Ralph had backed off, puzzled by Muriel’s suggestion. He’d never asked her to go to the theatre. What on earth was she talking about?

He went round to see Jimbo again and told him what Muriel had said.

They checked the paper and could find no mention of the play being performed locally.

‘She winked, you see. She didn’t really mean it.’

‘Muriel was ill a few months ago. I do hope it’s not starting all over again.’

‘She wasn’t dressed, which isn’t like Muriel, is it? – even if she’s not well. I know this sounds mad but I had the feeling that Muriel was being overheard.’

He’d only been there a few minutes when he spotted Muriel, still in her dressing gown, obviously beginning to prepare food. Then he saw what he had suspected: someone else was in the kitchen, and that someone else was wearing Muriel’s clothes. Someone as fastidious as she, did not lend their clothes willingly. For a moment only, the other person came close to the back window. Peroxided hair … where had he seen that before? Who on earth was it? It was that daughter from The Royal Oak, Sharon what’s-her-name. Suddenly, Muriel’s odd behaviour became absolutely clear to Ralph. Sharon was hiding in her house and Muriel was very frightened. Ralph felt terribly cold and very afraid.
The Waiting Game
. Of course, that was what Muriel was having to play! ‘The Waiting Game’.

When the sergeant heard Ralph’s story his insides did a somersault. He’d have to appear calm, but this really was above and beyond the duties expected of a village policeman. Metropolitan police, yes, but not the Turnham Malpas village bobby.

‘I shall need to get on to my inspector, Sir Ralph. Would you take a seat for the moment while I contact him.’

‘Whatever you do, you mustn’t have them barging up there with their big boots on. That girl is dangerous. I’ve warned Muriel about her before.’

‘This suits me down to the ground, Moo. Once it gets dark I’m going. Waiting here is getting me nowhere. I’ve got to get away. Pity you don’t drive, then you could take me in the car in the dark and drive me away. When I tell you to, you must fetch me all the money you’ve got.’

Muriel tried to eat her lunch but it would keep sticking in her throat. If only it would get dark right now, but there were another three hours before sunset. Could she keep her nerve until then? Oh, Ralph, please understand what I was telling you, please.
Please
.

‘I’ll wear a coat of yours and a scarf and get myself to Culworth on the tea-time bus. There’s never no one on it going to Culworth.’

‘I shall have to let Pericles out or he’ll be wetting the floor.’

‘I’ll come with you when you open the door. I don’t want you running out.’

She picked up the knife, took hold of the back of Muriel’s dressing gown and marched her to the kitchen. Pericles dashed out of the door. They both stood, Muriel in front and Sharon holding the knife to her ribs, watching the dog in the garden. For one brief moment Muriel thought she saw a head move behind the wall. She glanced at Sharon but she was standing a bit behind and didn’t get quite the same view as Muriel did.

A small flame of hope flared in Muriel’s heart. Pericles came back in.

‘Well now, Sharon, shall we wash up?’

‘You can, I’ll watch.’

Talk to your captors, make a relationship with them. Be friendly, be sympathetic. Where had she read that?