Intrigue in the Village (Turnham Malpas 10) (29 page)

‘Bless you.’ Craddock bent forward and kissed her again. She got to her feet and returned to her chair.

Kate finished her gin and orange, then said out of the blue, ‘I have an idea. Let’s pay for ballet lessons for Una Bliss. She’s exceptionally talented and well worth encouraging.’

‘If you could devise a way I can pay without anyone knowing. My Sadie Beauchamp Education Fund is looking for some good causes now Dean Jones has finished at Cambridge, and Michelle Jones at horticultural college. Rhett Wright finished too, of course, some while ago.’

‘I shall elect myself as searcher of good causes in the education field. Can’t have good money going to waste. Talent must be positively encouraged.’

‘Bless you. When this anniversary is finished we shall go
on holiday, the honeymoon we never had. Will you leave the destination to me?’

Kate nodded. ‘You’ll sit on the platform at the anniversary won’t you? You know, Craddock, each time I think about the old headmasters and their wives coming, I wonder how on earth Peter and Caroline will cope. Worse still, how will the children cope?’

‘You didn’t make him bed Suzy Meadows, did you? Eh? So let them sort it out as best they can. It won’t be easy but they’ll have to do it as best as they can. They’re both intelligent people . . . and . . .’

‘Being intelligent doesn’t mean you know how to handle emotions that deep.’

‘I know. Don’t worry.’

Kate nodded slowly. ‘OK. So you will sit on the platform? As the benefactor who has promised to buy some new playground equipment you must.’

Surprised, Craddock said, ‘I don’t remember promising that. It’s the first I’ve heard of it.’

‘I know, it’s just occurred to me.’

Craddock sighed. ‘Hen-pecked, that’s what I am.’ He stood up, holding out his arms to her, and she rose to her feet, put down her glass and walked towards him, her face alight with pleasure. He kissed her again and then said with an amused grin on his face, ‘My wife can twist me round her little finger.’

‘And aren’t you loving it?’ They both laughed until the tears ran down their cheeks. When Kate could finally draw breath she said, ‘I told you it would be fun.’

Craddock wiped his eyes and stuttered, ‘I haven’t laughed like that in years. You must be good for me.’

The next morning Kate went to school to find Maggie Dobbs full of life. There was a new spring in her step and a strength in her voice.

‘Good morning, Mrs Fitch! How’re things?’

‘Very well, thank you and better for hearing you sound so happy.’ She raised a questioning eyebrow at Maggie.

‘Well, I’ve got a temporary job shelf-filling on Saturday nights at the Store. Only temporary until I get my finances sorted out, but it’s relieved my mind.’

‘And the seance business?’

Maggie leaned on her polishing mop and said, ‘Well, that’s all sorted too.’ She told Kate about the incident with the golf club and they both had a laugh. ‘And having turned over a new leaf, there’s going to be no more arguing with the dinner ladies. I’ve made up my mind. I shall be as nice as pie to ’em.’ She looked into the distance. ‘Though that might be a bit difficult, them being how they are.’

‘Goodwill, that’s what’s needed. You set the standard, and they’ll be eating out of your hand.’

Maggie nodded, gave a final flick to the hall floor, glanced at the big clock on the wall, which had been measuring time since the day the school opened, to make sure she wasn’t running behind with her jobs, and said, ‘You’ll give me instructions about the anniversary, won’t you? I want things to be smart and that. It’s wonderful thinking about all that learning going on all these years. Just wish I’d had the sense to pay more attention in school. Still, you can’t put an old head on young shoulders, can you?’

‘No, you can’t, but it’s never too late.’

‘Suppose not. Time that clock was overhauled. Bel Tutt
said it had to be done every two years, on account of its age, and I’d hate it to be stopped when the anniversary came along. They’ll all look at it, if only for old time’s sake, and expect it to be keeping time. Only three weeks, you know.’

‘Three weeks! Good heavens, you’re right. Three weeks, and none of the displays done. Help.’ Kate dashed off into her office as though there wasn’t a minute to spare.

That day Hetty Hardaker rehearsed the school choir for the umpteenth time, Muriel played again for the Maypole dancing practice, Kate’s class revised,
again
, the play they were doing and the little ones rehearsed as the butterflies. Miss Booth exhibited a butterfly costume she’d done over the weekend, which the children thought was so magnificent that some of the older girls even wished they were small enough to be butterflies.

‘Them’s huge wings. Just like that Notting Hill Carnival, isn’t it, Miss Booth? All glittery and kind of papery,’ Karen from Year Seven said.

Kate finally got round to planning the display material for the hall wall. She needed photographs. A comment Caroline had once made reminded her that Peter had the parish photos in albums and she wondered if there were any suitable for a school display.

She went out of school and walked along Church Lane, hoping that either Peter or Caroline would be home.

Peter answered the door. ‘Come in, Kate. How can I help?’

‘I’m looking for photos of the school, past and present. I don’t suppose you have any in your parish albums I could possibly borrow? I’d be so careful with them.’

‘I’m sure we have. Come in the kitchen. I’m making tea for the children. They apparently die from starvation at school and require immediate sustenance on their return.’

‘I remember the feeling. I was just the same. I thought I might use a few photos from the early days, but the rest will need to cover the last fifty years. Do you think I’m right?’

‘I think so. I don’t know how far back they go, though I suppose we only need to look at the dress to hazard a good guess.’

She watched while he cut two slices of bread and filled the kettle. Should she say anything? Why not be frank and open about it. Craddock would be. ‘I had never been told about the twins and I do hope that my inviting Michael Palmer and his wife won’t be too upsetting. They have e-mailed me and they are both coming, as well as their daughters. I do hope I haven’t upset things. When I heard about . . . the . . . situation, I was surprised they’d agreed to come.’

Peter stood with his back to her, getting cups out of the dishwasher. ‘So am I. But it has to be faced. Perhaps it’s better this way. There’ll be lots of people . . .’

‘Yes, maybe they won’t meet.’

‘Beth is so much like her mother, there’s no mistaking.’

‘I see.’

Peter heard Alex’s key in the door. ‘Here they come.’

They bounded into the kitchen.

Beth flung her arms around her father and kissed him.

Alex said, ‘Hi Dad. Have you got my toast ready? I’m starving.’

Kate said, ‘Just the people I need to see.’

‘Good afternoon, Mrs Fitch,’ the two of them said together.

‘I’m needing someone with a smattering of intelligence to give me a hand at the school this Saturday. Could you possibly help?’

Beth, who was already seated at the table munching her toast and peanut butter, said, ‘What do you want us to do?’

‘Help me put up the displays in the school hall. I’m hoping to find pictures of school events in your dad’s albums. I need someone with an artistic eye.’

Alex said almost before she’d finished speaking, ‘Can’t help. Sorry. I’ve got a rugby match on Saturday.’

Peter gave him a long look. ‘I didn’t know you’d been chosen for the team?’

Alex concentrated on his toast, not wishing to look him in the eye and acknowledge he’d just told a big fib. ‘Well, I have.’

‘Well, that’s excellent news. I am pleased. Will you help Mrs Fitch, Beth?’

‘Of course. I’d love to.’ She didn’t comment on Alex’s refusal to help. They’d talked about the albums in the weeks after they’d been shown their mother in a couple of the photographs. Alex had said he didn’t want to meet her. Never ever. His mother was Caroline and someone who could give their children away was nothing to do with him.

But she, Beth, had been more sympathetic and was secretly looking forward to seeing her real mother. She knew she would recognize her because she was so much like her. She hadn’t let on to anyone that she knew they
were coming to the school anniversary and said nothing at all about the small burst of excitement inside her.

Peter offered to get the albums and asked Alex for help. But he shook his head. ‘Haven’t finished my toast. They’re not that heavy, Dad.’

So it was Peter who sought out the albums and carried them into the kitchen. ‘There we are, Kate. This one on the top is the latest. Shall I carry them across to the school for you?’

‘No, thanks, I’ll be all right. I’m fairly tough. I will take great care of them and replace the photos afterwards. It’s most kind of you. I do appreciate it. See you Saturday, Beth, nine-thirty?’

‘Yes. See you, Mrs Fitch.’ When Peter came back from letting Kate out, Beth swallowed the last of her tea and disappeared upstairs, knowing full well that Alex would be in trouble for fibbing, and she was best out of the way as she would only jump to his defence and complicate matters.

Peter sat down and watched Alex eating his toast. ‘Well?’

Alex looked up and Peter saw not the child he knew and loved, but the man he would be.

‘Well? I’m waiting.’

‘I know I fibbed. I’ve not been chosen. There isn’t even a match. But I’m not helping. I don’t ever want to see those albums again. And if she comes to the school anniversary, I don’t want to meet her, or have anything to do with her, ever, and I won’t, whatever you say. Not even to be polite.’

‘If you didn’t want to help, there was no need to lie in order to cover up your reluctance. Just say it.’

Alex pushed his empty plate away and said, ‘Please, Dad, don’t talk to me about lies. Doing it with Suzy Meadows was the biggest, most enormous, terrible lie to my mum. So don’t talk to me about lies ever again.’

‘Alex!’

‘It’s the truth, Dad. The absolute truth, don’t kid yourself.’ He got up, lifted his satchel from the floor and said, ‘I’ve got work to do.’ He walked out.

Peter was stunned. He hadn’t realized until that moment that his son had grown up, not enough to see shades of grey, as yet he still only saw in black and white, but he was right, there were no shades of grey in this matter. He’d been profoundly unfaithful, and though he might know he’d been forgiven by his God and his wife, it was certain that Alex never would forgive him. Peter went to look out of the kitchen window at Caroline’s country cottage garden, and he wondered if it might be better if they moved to another parish and left behind the whole tangled mess.

When Saturday morning came round, Beth was off to the school by twenty minutes past nine and had to sit on the doorstep of the main entrance waiting for Mrs Fitch. She’d left Alex still in bed. Mum had called him several times but he’d ignored her, something she could never remember him doing before.

Mrs Fitch arrived at twenty-five minutes past the hour, bright and welcoming and armed with huge, brightly coloured sheets of card for the displays. As she put the key in the lock she said, ‘Thank you for helping. What do you think of the colours I’ve chosen?’

‘They’re lovely. I like the yellow best.’

‘So do I.’ They walked into the hall and Kate laid the sheets of card on a table she’d borrowed from the dinner ladies. ‘I’ve made sure it’s absolutely clean. The albums are on my desk. Can you get them for me?’

Beth carried them into the hall for her and laid them at one end of the table. ‘Dad says there might be some photos of the playgroup in here.’

‘Oh good. I have some pictures belonging to the school in my bag, which I’ve already sorted out. It’s such fun looking at the really old pictures; for some reason the
children all look dreadfully unhappy. I don’t think there’s a smiler among them.’

‘Children smile nowadays though, don’t they?’

‘They do. Now . . . here we go. Alex gone to his match?’

‘Yes . . . No. He doesn’t have one. He just didn’t want to help.’

‘I see. Well, never mind, we’ll manage, won’t we?’