Intrigue in the Village (Turnham Malpas 10) (34 page)

‘I’ve a mind to rub some on you just for the pleasure.’

He eyed her up and down, thinking how beautiful she was. She saw his look and smothered a smile.

Kate searched in her bag for the lotion. ‘Here we are. Sit on the end of my lounger and I’ll re-do you now you’re dry.’

‘I understand the children will be going with them and attending an English school. We shall miss them very much.’

‘We all will.’

When they’d both massaged each other with the lotion they lay back, gazing idly at the beach and watching people pick up their belongings and head for their hotels.

Craddock played a game of guessing who was staying in the same place. ‘He wouldn’t dare, not in those shorts. Nor her with that dreadful hair. How does she get it to look like a crow’s nest? This one walking up now is a definite. He shouts money. So does she.’

‘Craddock, you really are a snob. It’s unworthy of you. Does it matter where they’re staying? Not one jot.’

He had the grace to look embarrassed. ‘Sorry.’ He reached across and took hold of her hand. ‘I hope no one thinks of me as not staying at the best hotel. It’s partly that I don’t like to remember my beginnings.’

‘I don’t care two hoots about your beginnings. I love you as you are. Even if you are predictable.’

‘Are you saying I’m boring?’

Kate smiled. ‘No, not at all. Not since you married me. I’ve even got you laughing sometimes.’

‘Yes, you have. What plans do you have for the school for its next fifty years?’

Kate looked up at the sun burning down and almost, but not quite, wished the school was a million miles away. ‘I could get used to this lazing in the sun, it feels very beneficial.’

‘It is, but the mind turns to porridge. These people in their fifties who leave England to buy homes in the sun and live with nothing to do must be mad.’

‘You’re not thinking of retiring then?’

Craddock sat upright, his blue eyes ablaze. ‘Retire? Me? Not ever. I shall drop in harness.’ He laid back down
again. ‘Having married you, the best years are yet to come.’

‘I’m going in. I’ve laid here long enough. I’m having a shower and then I’m lying on the bed for an hour before dinner. Join me?’

‘Did you hear what I said about the school?’

‘Yes.’

‘Well?’

‘I need time to consider. Do you know we have people registering their children for the school when they’re only two years old? I’m thinking of moving the playgroup out to the church hall and using the classroom to accommodate the extra children. Get another teacher. What do you think?’

‘Why not? Good idea.’

‘I didn’t tell you before we left because I didn’t want to spoil things after such a spectacularly successful weekend, but there’s been a consultative paper sent round and the “education”, as Maggie Dobbs calls it, are considering the closure of village schools and concentrating the children in schools in the towns. More equipment, greater concentration of teaching talent and so on.’

‘Did they specifically mention Turnham Malpas?’

‘No, but we are a village school. Here and now, I am saying, and don’t let me go back on my word, I am prepared to stand stark naked outside the education office with a placard in protest.’

Craddock had been drifting off to sleep during this conversation but when he heard that, he remembered thinking that being married to Kate would mean a life full of surprises, but this was one surprise too far. ‘You will not.’

‘Who’s to stop me?’

‘Me! I won’t have it.’

‘You won’t be there.’

‘Doesn’t matter. I shan’t allow it.’

‘Not even when it means so much to me?’

‘No. That’s my promise. I shan’t allow it.’

‘How else can one show how serious one is? A few petitions, a couple of marches, a TV interview achieves nothing now; everybody does it. But sacrifice and determination do. Showing them you mean it.’

Horrified, Craddock stood up. ‘Kate! You will not.’

She squinted up at him, shielding her eyes. ‘I’m not having my school closed, not when it’s a centre of excellence.’

‘Think of the scandal.’ He hesitated and then added, ‘It wouldn’t be tasteful.’

‘Are you saying . . .’ Then she laughed until her sides ached. ‘Oh, Craddock! Your face.’

‘Oh! I see you were teasing me.’

Wickedly, knowing she’d caught him on the hop, she replied, ‘To save you embarrassment I’d hold the placard in a strategic place.’

Appalled, he asked, ‘You weren’t teasing me?’

‘Yes, I was, but I am determined no one shall lay a finger on my school.’

‘Quite right,’ he said, busily thinking how he might out-manoeuvre her and keep the school open. He had influence and would use it, no matter what it cost in brown envelopes or anything else. Maybe Kev, his mole in the council offices who he had used in the past without even a momentary feeling of guilt, could find out the lie of the land, if needs must. Then he recollected how
beautifully Ralph Templeton could get his own way, with his breeding and his aristocratic manners, without once breaching the gentleman’s code of honour. Yes, he might be the best ally if closure ever became a serious threat.

He glanced across at Kate intending to reassure her, but she’d fallen asleep. The sun had crept lower in the sky and now the shade she’d had all afternoon had almost gone. He stood up, gently laid her sarong over her and altered the tilt of her sun umbrella. He never thought he would say this, not even to himself, but she was worth all his money, all his projects, all his property investments; he’d sacrifice the whole bally lot for her. Craddock bent to place a kiss on her forehead.