A Village Deception (Turnham Malpas 15) (34 page)
The door opened and in came a young man whom Jimbo thought he recognised.
‘Good morning, we’re just opening up. What can I do for you?’
‘Good morning to you. You are … ?’
‘Jimbo. Owner of this store. I don’t know you, do I?’ Over his customer’s shoulder he spotted a very expensive car parked outside. ‘Should I?’
‘No.’ The stranger held out his hand. ‘I’m Jonathan Templeton. Always known as Johnny, the late Sir Ralph Templeton’s great nephew. I’m his heir. I’ve come to see my house now that it’s almost restored.’
‘Well, my word, we’ve been waiting for the day. Wonderful man your uncle, greatly loved. What a surprise! I can’t believe it! You’ve got the Templeton nose, that’s why I thought I knew you but couldn’t …’
‘That’s me.’
Jimbo paused for a moment and saw the likeness, the same sort of kindliness shining from the same blue eyes. ‘I’m so pleased to meet you. It’s been so long that we thought they’d not found anyone to inherit.’
‘Well, they have, and it’s me. I’ve got jet lag and I’m badly in need of a breakfast and bed. Is there anywhere in the village that does B&B?’
‘Oh yes. Laburnum Cottage down Shepherd’s Hill, just down here to the right, first turn. Your car’s pointing in the right direction, it’s about halfway down on the left. Nice place, lovely people. Can’t miss it. Tell them Jimbo sent you.’
‘Thanks. When I’ve recovered from my jet lag we’ll talk some more. I’m barely coherent at the moment.’ He reached out to shake hands again, got into his car and zoomed away. A much better proposition as a paying guest than the last one they had, thought Jimbo. At least Jonathan Templeton wouldn’t be facing a jail sentence!
Jimbo turned from watching Jonathan leave and started up the day in the store. Two days to go and it would be the wedding of Tamsin and Paddy. Thank God he had Harriet to organise all the food. He’d sneaked a peep at the cake she’d decorated and it was magnificent. She was so talented. The customers could talk of nothing else but the wedding, it was obviously going to be
the
wedding of the year, all thanks to Bridget’s money, from which his business would certainly benefit. He thought about life before Turnham Malpas, of the rush and bustle and the competitive world in which he had lived and worked and he knew for sure that coming here had been the very best move he had ever made. Would ever make.
The door burst open again and in came Beth, accompanied by Sykes. ‘Sorry! Out, Sykes and wait.
Stay!
Jimbo, I’ve come for a bottle of champagne, we’re having a champagne breakfast!’
‘Champagne breakfast? It’s not your … is it? It is!’
‘Yes, our results.’
‘Go on then … tell me.’
‘We’ve both got three As and Alex has a B too. We’re so excited.’
Jimbo put his arms round her, hugged her and kissed her on both cheeks.
‘Wonderful! Fran’s got her GCSE results next week, just the three she’s taken early. Her nerves are in shreds at the moment. She’ll be so pleased for you and so will Harriet. Wonderful! Look, I’m going to give you your favourite gateau. Chocolate! A present from me. Take it home, it’s frozen, but it won’t take long to defrost. With my compliments.’
‘Oh! Thank you! I wasn’t expecting …’
‘Of course, I know you weren’t. Remember when you were ill and you struggled round to the store to get some slices of gateau for Dottie and everyone? I was so proud of you that day. What a brave girl you were. Here you are, carry it carefully.’
Beth said, ‘I was so sad when you closed the store and so thrilled when you reopened. I don’t know what we would do without being able to come in here and talk. And cheer ourselves up.’ Her eyes filled with tears and she couldn’t say any more. So Jimbo patted her arm, opened the door for her and, when she heard the doorbell jingle, she smiled at the sound of it and left.
‘See you at the wedding, Beth!’ Jimbo called out to her.
When Saturday morning broke, the sun was shining as they had all hoped it would. The bridegroom was experiencing a bad case of panic. His mother had brought him his breakfast in bed and told him to have another hour before he began to get ready.
Another hour in bed? It was time to think about what he was doing. Time to contemplate being married to Tamsin. Time to worry about his speech. Time to be glad his mother had come. Time to … Paddy hid under the duvet to pretend he didn’t exist. Here he was, with all the luck in the world in the palm of his hand, and he was petrified. Mainly because
he’d had a letter from Michelle telling him there was a job for him at Kew if he wanted it. He hadn’t opened the letter till late yesterday and when he did, he’d rapidly returned it to the envelope and pretended it hadn’t arrived. If he couldn’t see it, then it hadn’t arrived, had it? But common sense told him he was being pathetic. He was forty, not four, and he had to pull himself together. Now that he was soon to be married, he’d have to learn to share everything, not just the bed. He came out from under the duvet, ate a hearty meal, leaped out of bed and headed for the bathroom. Today was the day he’d dreamed of and he was going to make it the best day ever.
The bride, on the other hand, was weeping. No mother, no father, no sisters at her wedding. Just two old aunties, one of whom was in a wheelchair, so there was no flurry of women helping her to dress and her friends, well, either they lived thousands of miles away, had very young families, or were about to give birth. Tamsin just wished there was someone, for it seemed to her to be a day for family, not just for friends. Then she thought about Paddy and wondered how he was feeling. So she dug out her mobile and in defiance of all the rules, dialled his number. As the phone began to ring the front door opened and a voice called out, ‘Tamsin! It’s me!’
‘Oh! I’m upstairs, come up.’
She cancelled the call and listened to the footsteps coming up the stairs. She didn’t know why, but she was puzzled by them.
And there, standing in the bedroom doorway, was her sister Penny. They hadn’t met for years and seeing her now, it was just as if she’d never left. The same disordered hair, the same disregard for fashion, the same beaming smile and welcoming arms held wide to embrace her.
‘Oh, Penny. I’d no idea. I’m so glad you’ve come. So glad.’ Then they both burst into tears. Which turned to laughter, which turned to tears again, and then laughter. ‘Couldn’t miss
the wedding, could I? For heaven’s sake. The sun is shining and it’s going to be a good day.’
‘I don’t care if it’s thundering and lightning, it’ll still be a good day.’
‘It is still on then? The thought occurred to me that it might be cancelled and then I’d look a fool!’
‘No, not cancelled, I love him too much. You’ll like him. He’s not what you’d expect him to be though, but he loves me and I love him.’
‘He’s not full of music then?’
‘He’s trying. He’s started on the flute and I must say, considering he’s had no training whatsoever, he’s doing quite well. This is him, look.’ Tamsin showed her a photograph of herself and Paddy. ‘He’s a qualified gardener and works at the big house in the glasshouses, with the peaches and the grapes and such. He’s well respected.’
Penny sat on the bed and said, ‘There’s a but, isn’t there?’
Tamsin nodded. ‘You know too well, just as you used to do.’
‘I’m still your sister. What is it?’
‘The trouble is … well … I’ve got the offer of a job at Dame Celia Collingswood Girls’ School in London. The post is Director of Music, with time for playing at concerts and such, as part of the bargain. It’s a fantastic job, it’s just right for me, but now I’ve got Paddy to consider. I didn’t even apply, they just contacted me and said the job will be vacant in January next year when their present director retires. I’m in one heck of a mess.’
‘How did they know about you?’
‘The head of the school heard me play at a recital in Smith Square and made enquiries. We’ve spoken on the phone and they’ve more or less offered me the job subject to an interview. Apparently that’s just a formality.’
‘Look! I need a shower, you need to get ready. We’ll talk, afterwards, shall we? There’s nothing set in stone, you can say
no, and Paddy could say yes. Maybe he needs a move too. You never know. Stunning job, though. And just right for you. Definitely not for me!’ Penny scooped Tamsin up in a great big hug, just like she used to do when they were young and suddenly life didn’t seem quite as complicated as Tamsin had thought.
‘Oh, Penny, I’m so glad you’ve come. Are you staying in England?’
‘For a while, yes, then I’m going back. I love it out there. I’ll see you back from your honeymoon and then we’ll see.’
Tamsin’s wedding dress was a romantic, dreamy affair, floaty and gently sparkling with crystal butterflies embroidered all over it. It so suited her personality that Penny gasped when she saw her in it. ‘Why, it suits you beautifully. It’s absolutely you.’
Her bouquet of flowers was neat and strikingly suited to Tamsin, being sweet and countrified, not designed with high fashion in mind. ‘Well, sister dear, there couldn’t be a lovelier bride. You look wonderful.’
‘So do you. Look, I haven’t got a bridesmaid. Would you be my bridesmaid?’
‘Me? A bridesmaid! Well, if you think my outfit is suitable. I didn’t intend it to be a bridesmaid’s dress.’
‘I know you didn’t, but it could be. We’ll get a rose out of my garden and you could carry that, how about it? Your dress is coppery coloured and I have a rose in the garden that’s kind of apricot and coppery coloured round the edges, it would look just right.’
‘OK then. We will. Don’t you come out in that dress, I’ll go and get it.’
Penny chose the loveliest rose on the bush with a long stem and just perfectly opened, not too much, not too little, and she snipped off the thorns so she could hold it easily.
The two of them stood in the hall and smiled in triumph at each other. ‘What an auspicious day. I always thought it would
be me who’d marry and not you, but here you are, looking fabulous!’
‘Thank you. You’ll love Paddy’s mother, she’s called Bridget and she’s wonderfully kind and full of laughter. Is that the car?’
‘Tamsin, you’ve got your slippers on!’
‘Oh, good grief. I brought my shoes down and forgot to put them on. Could you open the door and tell the driver I won’t be a minute?’
The groom, meanwhile, had been ready for the last half an hour, sitting in Greta’s lounge, almost trembling with trepidation. His mother was insisting he had something to eat before he left, so he had one of Greta’s aprons draped over his suit and he was eating, very reluctantly, a toasted teacake. ‘That’s what you want, comfort food. Your mother knows best, and I know nothing better than a toasted teacake for giving comfort. Now, give me the plate, and you have a drink of tea.’
‘You haven’t put whisky in, have you? I don’t want to smell of drink.’
‘Shut up, Paddy, and drink it else you’re going to be late.’
Bridget looked down at him and remembered the love she had for him when he was born. She was so proud of him, prouder still of his future wife. What a pair they made. She leaned over and kissed his cheek. ‘Love you, Paddy. You’ve got a great future ahead of you.’
Paddy thought to himself, a future I’m going to have to turn down, but there you are. It’s one of the sacrifices I shall make in the cause of happiness. Kew comes second to Tamsin. ‘Time we left.’
Paddy turned to watch his bride come down the aisle. She glided towards him, smiling as though he was the only other person in the whole wide world, just as she was for him. As for Vince, he looked ready to faint due to the enormity of giving away the
bride, but he held on and solemnly placed her hand in Paddy’s when they reached the altar.
Peter smiled at them both, waited while the music ended and began, ‘Dearly beloved, we are gathered here …’.
AN ORION BOOKS EBOOK
First published in Great Britain in 2011 by Orion Books
This ebook first published in 2011 by Orion Books
Copyright © Rebecca Shaw 2011
The moral right of Rebecca Shaw to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of the publisher, nor to be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published without a similar condition, including this condition, being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
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is available from the British Library.
ISBN:
978 1 4091 0803 0
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