The New Rector (Tales from Turnham Malpas) (22 page)

He gently rolled her over, fearing the worst. She was ghastly white and scarcely breathing, but not apparently hurt in any way. He needed a phone. ‘I shall put a phone in for you, Muriel, immediately,’ he whispered.

A constable followed him in. ‘Is she all right?’ Ralph demanded.

‘I think so, sir – just fainted with shock. But she’ll need to be checked over all the same. I’ll call for another ambulance.’ While the constable did this on his radio, Ralph covered Muriel with his coat, gently rubbed her hands between his warm ones, and spoke her name, desperate for her to come back to life.

‘How’s Sharon?’

‘Dead, sir, I’m afraid. The knife went straight through her as she fell, and the blood just pumped out. She was dead in a moment. There was nothing we could do to save her.’

‘Poor girl, what an end. Have her parents been told?’

‘Someone’s gone to tell them now.’

‘Sharon – I heard her scream. Is she all right? That poor girl.’

‘Don’t you worry about her, Muriel. Let’s be thankful you’re OK.’

‘She died, didn’t she?
Didn’t she?
’

‘Yes, I’m afraid she did. She saw the police waiting for her and she was so startled she slipped and fell on a knife she was carrying. She died almost instantly.’

‘Can I have a drink of water, please, Ralph? I’m so terribly thirsty.’ Caroline supported her head while Ralph held the glass for her. She took a few sips and then lay down again.

‘You understood then what I meant about
The Waiting Game
.’

‘It took me a while but in the end I did. You’ve been very brave, Muriel …’

‘You’ve called me Muriel. You must be growing up.’ She smiled.

‘And you’ve called me Ralph.’

‘So I have.’

‘The police will need to see you when you feel better.’

‘Sharon made Mrs Palmer kill herself and then she killed Toria Clark. And it was Sharon who set fire to number three. It’s perhaps as well she’s died, she couldn’t face being locked up. She was only a little girl really, you know. She needed an awful lot of love and she felt she never got it from anyone. I felt quite sorry for her when she left.’

Caroline said gently, ‘That’s because you have a very kind heart, isn’t it, Ralph? Harriet is devastated that she didn’t cotton on.’

A nurse came bustling in. ‘Message for Dr Harris. Ah, there you are. You’re needed in Maternity as soon as you can make it, Doctor.’

‘Oh, am I? Right, well, I’ll come then. Bye bye, Muriel. I’ll leave Ralph to take care of you. Perhaps I could pop in to see you tomorrow if you’re still here?’

‘Of course, Caroline. Thank you for coming.’

Caroline arrived in Maternity, puzzled about why she should be required.

‘Good evening, Sister. You’ve sent for me?’

‘Yes. Mrs Suzy Meadows from Turnham Malpas has insisted we inform you she’s been brought in. She says you’re a friend.’

‘That’s right, I am. Ah, the twins are on their way then? Will it be in order for me to be here? Her husband has died and she did say would I be here to support her, purely as a friend.’

‘Of course, as a friend. I appreciate you asking my permission.’

Suzy lay in bed pale and anxious.

‘Oh, Caroline, you’ve come – I’m so glad. What’s all this about Muriel and Sharon McDonald? I saw the police about during the afternoon but I wasn’t feeling up to going out to find out why and then Mother arrived and I came straight in.’

‘At the moment it’s nothing for you to worry about, but Muriel is quite safe and they’re taking care of Sharon. This is earlier than expected, isn’t it?’

‘Suzy, I shall quite understand if, when it comes to it, you want to keep them.’

‘I don’t. Oh, please, you mustn’t let me weaken. I mustn’t weaken. I don’t want them, but I’m not strong enough to see them and hold them and then not want them. Tell the Sister, please. Tell her that you’re looking after them, not me.’

Suzy closed her eyes and began breathing steadily. She drew a self-imposed wall around herself and concentrated on giving birth and getting it over with. Caroline felt excluded. She went in search of Sister.

‘It’s all most irregular,’ the woman frowned, ‘but of course there is no law which says a mother has to love and want her babies. If she is getting them adopted then I can quite understand her not wanting to see them: she’s too vulnerable at the moment to be emotionally strong. But it’s preferable for the babies to relate to someone immediately. That’s how I like to work. It’s not only the mothers who have rights, you know. Babies are not parcels.’

‘Well, that person is me. She wants my husband and me to adopt the twins and has been making arrangements with that in mind.’

‘I see, you and the rector. Well, highly suitable parents I must say. What does your husband think about this?’

‘He is delighted. We can’t have children of our own, you see.’

‘Proper arrangements must be made before the babies are allowed out of the hospital. I can’t let them go off willy-nilly with anyone.’

‘Of course not.’

‘Sorry, Peter, I learnt about Muriel and Sharon before I left so I’ve been to reassure myself Muriel’s OK, so if anyone asks you can tell them she’s conscious and quite unharmed apart from shock. But Suzy has been brought in in labour so she wants me to stay here till the twins are born. Darling, I’m terrified.’

‘Oh God, this is it then. Shall I come to the hospital?’

There was a pause and then Caroline said, ‘I don’t think so, do you? It wouldn’t look right somehow. Look, I’ll ring as soon as there’s any news. Do you love me?’

‘You know I do. Take the greatest care, my darling, and keep a rein on yourself. There’s always a risk, you know. I don’t want you to be heartbroken.’

‘I know, I know. I am trying hard to be sensible. I won’t leave the hospital without ringing you so take the phone to bed, won’t you?’

He knelt before God and prayed, for forgiveness for his sin, for the life of his children, and for the life of their mother. He prayed for his darling Caroline and the wonderful way in which she had decided to take his children into her care. Then he rose from his knees, bowed his head and went across to the organ, where he began playing a sad piece by some obscure seventeenth-century composer that exactly fitted his mood. The music poured from his soul and he concluded with a triumphant Bach Fugue.

As the last note finished he heard someone clapping.

‘Wonderful, wonderful. You should have been a musician, not a clergyman. You played from the heart, Peter.’

Ralph stepped forward into the light.

Peter, in a strange mood and not welcoming company, switched off the organ, swung his legs over the organ seat and went towards Ralph.

‘I didn’t realise I had an audience,’ he said quietly. ‘How is Muriel?’

‘Very well, all things considered. She’s had a dreadful time. I’m sorry Sharon has died, but there couldn’t have been anything other than a bad end for the girl. Have you seen her parents?’

‘Yes. I spent half an hour with them. Betty is distraught but Mac is fairly calm. What a terrible thing for a parent to have to face.’

‘Well, that’s something we aren’t likely to know anything about – not me, certainly. Bit late now.’

‘That’s right. What’s the time?’

‘Half-past nine.’

‘I’d better get back to the Rectory. I’m expecting a call.’

‘Too true. Good night then, Ralph. You know you and Muriel could be very happy together.’

‘Perhaps. We’ll see, we’ll see.’

The phone went at 1 a.m.

‘Hello, Peter. You’re a daddy. Peter, are you there?’

‘Yes, I am.’

‘They’re both fine, a bit small but both fine.’

‘I see. I see.’

‘Peter, you sound funny.’

‘No, I’m not. What are they?’

‘A perfect family – a boy and a girl.’

‘That’s wonderful. Are you all right?’

‘I’m in seventh heaven.’

‘Is … is Suzy …?’

‘Yes, she’s fine. She’s very upset but still determined that she doesn’t want the babies.’

‘I see. That’s good, isn’t it? Are you coming home now?’

‘In about an hour, when the babies have been weighed and washed and everything. I held them as soon as they were born. They are beautiful, just beautiful. Wait till you see them. You could come tomorrow, couldn’t you?’

‘I can’t wait.’

When he held Alexander and Elizabeth in his arms, Peter had tears in his eyes. His own two, very own two children. He’d thought that joy like this would never be his and yet here he was. Caroline stood looking down at him. He glanced up at her and smiled.

‘Aren’t they beautiful, my darling?’

‘Absolutely. We are blessed.’

‘You’ve got two darling girls now. Muriel’s coming down to see them before she goes home. I couldn’t wait to tell someone that they are going to be ours.’

‘They seem very tiny.’

‘Well, they only weigh just over four pounds each so they won’t be coming out until they get a bit bigger.’

The midwife had given Alexander to Caroline as soon as she’d cut the cord. The tiny tiny being lay bawling and squawking in her arms, his weeny arms waving in indignation at the disturbance his birth had caused him. She’d pulled aside the sheet Alexander was wrapped in and examined his ten little toes, touched his minute fingers, admired his fingernails, stroked his wet, blood-streaked hair which looked as though it would be the same colour as Peter’s, and noticed how very long he appeared to be, with what seemed like two quite large feet fidgeting away as he cried. She’d smiled to herself. What else could she expect from a baby of Peter’s, but long legs and big feet and bright, almost strawberry-blond hair? There was no mistaking whom Alexander belonged to. She laid him in a cot, carefully placing him on his side, and covered him over. When the midwife handed the second baby to her, Caroline found herself holding a neatly made, composed little girl. She’d lain in Caroline’s arms stretching and occasionally opening her eyes but mostly preoccupied with sucking her thumb. She had perfect little feet. Elizabeth – that’s it. Elizabeth, she’d decided.

Sister interrupted her reverie. ‘What a wonderful job you’ve done, Suzy. Absolutely brilliant. No complications like we’d anticipated, you’ve been a model patient.’

‘I’d like to have the babies taken out, please. Now.’

Caroline went across to Suzy, bent over her and kissed her and said: ‘Thank you from the bottom of my heart. God bless you.’

Suzy nodded as silent tears began trickling down her cheeks. She made agonising choking sounds as she endeavoured to control the pain rising in her chest. All she could think was ‘I mustn’t weaken, I mustn’t weaken.’ Surely when she was so positive that she didn’t want these children, surely the pain wouldn’t last? She mustn’t ask what they were. Mustn’t ask who they looked like. Treat it like a miscarriage, a late miscarriage – that was it. That was how she’d solve it. She’d go straight to her mother’s from the hospital and then there’d be no chance she might see or hear the babies. Twenty-four hours, that was all she’d stay in this place. Mother would see about moving their belongings and selling the house. Then she’d make a new beginning away from memories of Patrick and Peter. A completely new life. Oh God, please take away the pain.

When Muriel came down to the ward to see Alexander and Elizabeth her feelings were confused. Delight for Caroline and Peter. Distress for Suzy. Anticipation at seeing the two tiny babies, and fear of returning to her own home with all the memories of the last forty-eight hours so fresh in her mind.