Village Matters (19 page)

Alan laughed shakily. ‘Watched it on telly.’

‘Brilliant. Brilliant. Drink on me tonight, Alan, see yer in there. Right?’

‘Right! Thanks!’

‘Poor Sir Ralph! Hope he’ll be all right. What a thing to happen!’

‘That Arthur Prior has a lot to answer for. Where is he?’

Arthur had gone home, ashamed and fearful at what his pigheadedness had caused. He’d left his car parked in the village and walked all the way. If Ralph died, he knew he’d never forgive himself.

That night Alan served in the bar again. Bryn had to put a stop to the number of drinks he was expected to consume. ‘Can he accept the money and have it later? Do you mind? He’s already had three drinks and he won’t be able to stand soon,’ Bryn suggested.

‘Congratulations! Best day’s work you’ve done in a long time.’

‘You must be proud of him, Georgie. Really proud.’

‘Oh we are. I knew he’d turn up trumps.’ She kissed his cheek and gave him a hug. Alan blushed, unaccustomed to such adulation.

‘I only did what I learned from the telly. Anyone could have done it. Watched “Casualty” and that. Just hope his ticker keeps going.’

One of the customers said, ‘You’re staying in the village, Alan, aren’t you now?’

He grinned at Georgie. ‘I hope so, but we’ll see.’

Georgie agreed. ‘Well, of course he is. I’ve always known what a good bloke he is, always. He’s got to stay, hasn’t he?’

‘Certainly. How would you run this place without ’im?’

Standing at the bar was Linda from the Store. ‘Gin and tonic, Alan, please, and get one for yourself.’

‘Hello, we don’t usually see you in here.’

‘No, well, I had to come to see our hero, hadn’t I?’

Alan blushed again. ‘Don’t know about that. I only did what anyone else would have done.’

‘Well, I certainly couldn’t have done it, could you Bryn?’

‘No, not me.’

‘Aren’t you drinking with me, then?’

‘Can I have the money instead? I’ve already had three, and that’s more than enough when I’m working.’

‘Yes, of course. Well, here’s to you. Our hero of the hour.’ Linda sipped her gin and then placed her glass down on the counter. She put the change Alan gave her in her purse and said, ‘What’s your night off this next week?’

‘Monday.’

‘I’ll give my aerobics a miss then and buy you a drink.’

Alan straightened the knot in his tie, served another customer and then said, ‘I’ll take you up on that.’

‘Pick you up then when I finish at the Store. Go into Culworth, you won’t want to drink where you work.’

‘No, that’s right. I’ll be ready.’

In the ambulance Ralph’s heart had arrested for a second time, and the paramedics had to work hard to start him again. For twenty-four hours Muriel never left his side. On the second day Caroline took her home to take a bath and get clean clothes, but all the time she was intensely afraid that Ralph would slip away while she was in Turnham Malpas and he’d die alone. That was the one thing she couldn’t bear, the thought that he might die alone.

‘Of course I am, Ralph. Where would you be if it was I who was ill? Right beside me holding my hand. My dear.’ She stood up reaching round the wires kissed his forehead. ‘I do love you, Ralph. You gave me such a scare.’

Ralph smiled gently and closed his eyes. After a few minutes he said, ‘I can remember Alan, what was he doing?’

‘Just helping you, dear. We were lucky he was there. He’s sent you a card wishing you all the best. I’ve already written to him to thank him for what he did. When you’re home we shall think of something we can do for him to show our gratitude.’

‘I’ve forgotten what it was all about.’

‘Well, never mind, you concentrate on getting well.’

Muriel held his hand to her cheek and sat watching him. How she loved him. Really loved him. Her life could be divided into two halves, the second half being the year and three-quarters she’d been married to Ralph. More had happened to her in that time than in all the rest of her life put together. He made her feel so safe, and yet life was so exciting. She could face almost anything knowing she had him with her. What would she do if he . . . No, she wasn’t going to think about that. Be positive, that’s right, be positive.

‘Drink of water, please.’

‘I’ll get the nurse.’

After the nurse had settled him again and checked the dials and adjusted the bedclothes, she said, ‘There’s a visitor just come, do you feel able to see him, Sir Ralph?’

But it wasn’t Peter; it was Arthur Prior. He stood hesitantly in the doorway, waiting.

Muriel jumped up, surprised and alarmed.

‘I don’t think you should come in, if you don’t mind.’

‘Yes, I know, but I . . .’

Muriel put her hands on his chest and tried to push him out. ‘I don’t want him having another attack, he’s not really stable yet. You can see all the wires and things, he’s very ill. Please, please go away.’

‘Yes, but I want to say . . .’

‘You’re going ahead with the appeal, is that it?’

‘That wasn’t what I was going to say, all I’m wanting . . .’

‘Just please go away, I don’t want you here.’ Muriel stamped her foot and became very agitated. Ralph weakly called out, ‘What is it, Arthur?’

He stepped back into the room. ‘I can’t sleep for the worry. I’ve come to say I shan’t be making an appeal. I genuinely thought you would sell to make money out of it, but Neville Neal tells me you really do intend to build and rent. That’s all right by me. I wouldn’t want to cause a man’s d-I wouldn’t want to cause trouble and I’m very sorry you’re so ill.’

‘Thank you, we’ll talk another time when I’m feeling better.’

‘You intend coming round then?’ Arthur said smiling.

‘Oh yes, I’ve everything to live for.’ He painstakingly felt about on the counterpane for Muriel’s hand and when he’d found it he held it tightly.

‘Well, I’m glad you’re still going to be around. Can’t keep a good man down, can you?’

‘I’ll be off then.’ Arthur nodded to Muriel, hesitated, and then said, ‘I want things to be all right between us.’ He nodded to Ralph and left the room.

‘I feel ashamed of stamping my foot and getting annoyed.’

‘I quite like you in a temper, it suits you.’

‘Ralph! Go to sleep! I’ll stay with you and then while you sleep, I’ll use your telephone and tell Caroline how much you’ve improved. You must have, if you’re starting to tease.’

Some two weeks later, when Muriel popped home for some fresh clothes for Ralph, she checked the messages on the answerphone and found a call on it from the architect, asking to come to see them with the final plans for Hipkin Gardens. Muriel knew how pleased Ralph would be, but he wouldn’t be able to be there, she’d have to put the architect off till Ralph was better. Yes, that’s what she’d do, tell Ralph and then put him off. He needed to be there to walk round the site and crystallise their thoughts, yes and that would be weeks yet. Yes, she’d postpone his visit. Now Ralph was no longer connected to all the wires and pipes and could sit in a chair in his clothes he really did seem to be making progress, but he was by no means capable of dealing with business matters, not yet.

‘When do you say he wants to come?’

‘Next Wednesday.’

‘And today’s . . .’

‘Friday.’

‘Right. Don’t put him off, we’ll let him come.’

‘Don’t worry my dear, I shall be there, I’ll deal with it.’

She jumped to her feet, her hands clasped under her chin. ‘You’re not coming home, Ralph, you’re not ready yet, not by any means. You’re teasing, aren’t you, teasing?’

‘Never been more serious. I’ve had enough of this place. I’m discharging myself.’

‘You can’t, I won’t let you.’

Ralph chuckled. ‘That temper of yours is getting the better of you, my dear.’

‘I shall ring for a nurse. They’ll make you see sense.’

‘They can’t keep me here against my will.’

‘I can.’

‘Not even you can, Muriel. I’ve made up my mind I’m going home. I want to sit in front of the fire, and eat scones and drink tea with my wife. Go to bed in a proper bed with my wife beside me holding my hand. There’s no better tonic, believe me.’

‘I shan’t make any scones and I shan’t hold your hand, so you might as well stay here.’

‘Come here to me.’ She went closer to his chair. ‘Closer. That’s it. Now give me a kiss. A lovely long lingering kiss, and
then
tell me I can’t go home.’ Ralph’s arms around her shoulders and her arms tucked between his back and the cushions, they kissed one of those deep satisfying kisses which say so much more than words. ‘Oh Ralph, yes, please come home!’

They were disturbed by a polite cough. Muriel straightened up to find Peter waiting in the doorway.

‘Shall I come back later?’ His eyes were twinkling. ‘I can if you wish, I have got someone else to see.’

‘I am not, it was your idea. Really it was, it was Ralph’s. He’s going to discharge himself. He shouldn’t, should he?’

Peter gravely considered her question. ‘No, he shouldn’t, but being at home is a marvellous pick-me-up, I must admit, and he would get every care wouldn’t he?’

‘Oh yes, of course he would, but I . . .’

Ralph interrupted decisively. ‘It’s settled then. Muriel, ring for the nurse. Peter, give me an hour, I’ve got to see the consultant and persuade him I’m doing the right thing, I’ve got to pack and pay my bills, and then could you drive me home, if you’re going straight back?’

‘Certainly. An hour then.’

Ralph, resting his hands on the arms of his chair, had heaved himself upright before Peter had left the room. ‘Now Muriel . . .’

They talked that evening sitting in front of the fire, drinking tea and eating scones.

‘I like to sit in the firelight, you know, it smoothes out all my wrinkles and I can imagine I’m young again. More tea, dear?’

‘Yes, please, and another scone.’ When Muriel had placed his scone on his plate and made sure his tea was to hand, he asked her to listen to what he had to say.

Muriel picked up her cup and drank some of her tea while she found the right words to say. Then she answered him.

‘Well, I certainly don’t want to be married to a doddery old man. I love you as you are and I’m sure you would get quite miserable with nothing to do, then we’d get on each other’s nerves and it wouldn’t be lovely any more. So I’ll watch over you and get advice from Caroline if I get stuck, and we’ll try to carry on as if nothing has happened.’

He took her hand and said, ‘Thank you, my dear, for being so understanding. Let’s hope we shall have many more wonderful years together. The doctors have told me that I shall need regular checkups and will have to watch my diet and my weight and take sensible exercise, and they’ve given me a list of the foods I need to avoid. I know it will cause you a problem having to make a new approach to your shopping and cooking, and I’m sorry.’

‘There’s no need to be sorry, I shall be only too glad to help. And we
shall
have many more wonderful years together. First we’ve got to see the architect, and then you’ll have to supervise the plans and make sure they’re not skimping on anything, and then we shall need a holiday before they start building and . . .’

‘You’re turning into a martinet!’

‘Oh, I shall be, don’t worry. Enjoy that scone, because I don’t think you’ll be allowed many of those after today.’

‘Help! The woman’s a tyrant!’