Read Trouble in the Village (Tales from Turnham Malpas) Online
Authors: Rebecca Shaw
Trouble in the Village (Tales from Turnham Malpas) (16 page)
He could be right. She’d better be a bit more flexible. ‘Go on then. One kiss. Here on my cheek.’ She proffered
her cheek but his knuckle under her chin turned her face so he could kiss her mouth.
Vera went all trembly and fled inside.
That week, with help from one of the weekenders recruited by Grandmama Charter-Plackett, Don had the living-room furniture outside by the front door ready for Barry and the estate van.
Now that the bedroom furniture was back in place and she’d had the chance to inspect it more closely, Grandmama was struck with an idea. ‘You know this bedroom furniture, Don?’
‘Yes.’
Well, I think it’s far too good for the bonfire. The three-piece suite and that old sideboard thing are only fit for burning, but I think those wardrobes might be Georgian, and that chest of drawers and the bed-head. They all match. Let’s ask Sir Ralph, see what he thinks.’
‘I’m not having Sir Ralph poking about in my old furniture. Heavens above! He wouldn’t want to.’
‘Not even if he thinks it’s worth a lot?’
‘What d’yer mean? Fifty pounds like?’
Grandmama shook her head. ‘If I’m right it could be worth a whole lot more than fifty pounds.’
‘It’s been in that bedroom for years. Never moved till I started decorating. How the blazes we’d get it out I’ve no idea – couldn’t go down that twisty staircase and through the door.’
‘There’s ways like taking windows out. After all they didn’t build the house round it, did they? It must have got in somehow.’
‘No, yer right.’
‘It’s Grandmama Charter-Plackett’s idea, sir, that my … our bedroom furniture might fetch a rare penny or two, so before it goes on the bonfire she wondered if you’d care to have a look, you being in the way of antique furniture.’
‘Why not? I don’t profess to be an expert by any manner of means but, yes, I’ll have a look.’
‘The bedroom’s newly decorated or otherwise I wouldn’t ask.’
Ralph looked at Don with new eyes. ‘Pleased to see the effort you’ve been making. I’d be glad to have a look, see your alterations too. Could Muriel come?’
‘Of course. If she wants. I’m off to the DIY in about an hour, if you’d like to come over before then …’
‘I’ll get Muriel, she’s tidying the garden at the moment. We won’t be long.’
Don went home to wait. He occupied himself making a list for his shopping expedition. Sunny yellow for the small bedroom, he thought. White paintwork, make it look bigger. Nice new curtains with a touch of the yellow in them. Those magazines Grandmama had lent him came in useful for ideas. He’d better measure for the curtains and the curtain rail before he set off. Now everything was out of the sitting room he could make a start on that too.
There was a tap on the front door. It opened and Muriel put her head round. ‘It’s us! Can we come in?’
‘Of course. This way.’
When Ralph saw the bedroom furniture he was amazed.
‘My word, Don! You’ve got a treasure trove here. How do you come to have such wonderful stuff?’
‘My grandma used to say it all came from the Big House, but I find that hard to believe. Your Big House, that is. She said her grandmother had it given to her as a wedding present. Why, I’ve no idea because she wasn’t in service there. When I asked why her grandmother had been given it, my grandma just tapped the side of her nose.’
Ralph opened drawers, looked at the dovetailing, inspected the door hinges, peered at the bed-head, ran his finger along the mouldings. ‘Oh, yes. They’d fetch a pretty penny in an auction house.’
‘They are Georgian then?’
‘I’m fairly sure they are. But do you want to sell them when they’ve been in the family such a long time?’
‘Yes.’
‘What does Vera say?’
‘She doesn’t care. Hates ’em cos she can’t … couldn’t … move the wardrobes to clean. How do I go about it then?’
‘If you’ll permit me I’ll contact the auction house in Culworth and get someone to come out and take a look.’
‘I want them out of the way, yer see.’
Muriel, dismissing from her mind the idea that the furniture seemed familiar to her, asked to be allowed to view his alterations. When they’d admired everything Ralph said as they left, ‘And Vera. What about her?’
‘I’m thinking she’s right. I started all this for her to make her come back, but she’s that stubborn.’
‘She has got a point. A good tenant in here paying rent, you’d have a little nest egg by the time Vera retires.’
‘Shall I give in then and go live at the nursing home?’
‘Why not? You’ve got wheels, so it’s no problem.’
‘Will she have me? That’s the other question.’
Muriel, who’d been listening sympathetically to their conversation, said, ‘I’m sure she will. Play your cards right and offer to do as she suggests. Take her on holiday, treat her well. She’ll come round.’
‘She’s only just back from Torquay.’
‘What does that matter? Ralph and I are always going away. It does you good. Even if it’s only two or three days. Come along, Ralph, Don wants to get on. It’s beautiful what you’ve done, an absolute transformation. It’s nice to see someone achieving something worthwhile after all we’ve gone through these last few weeks. No news of Kenny and Terry?’
‘Not that I know of. No news of Tom either. Pity that. I liked Tom and poor Evie. Strange woman.’
‘Indeed. But happy in her own quiet way. Bye-bye, Don. Thank you for the tour of your home!’
Pointing at the contents of Don’s house still out in the road Ralph’s parting shot was ‘You’ll be getting all this stuff out here moved, will you? Makes the village look unsightly.’
‘Tomorrow. Make a grand bonfire, won’t it, and shall I be glad to see the back of it all!’
‘Good. Good. Got to keep up standards.’
As Ralph and Muriel opened their own front door Muriel said, ‘How odd him having such wonderful stuff. Do you suppose it’s true?’
‘True?’
‘About it coming from your old home?’
Muriel’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Ralph! You don’t mean …’
‘I do. Why else is it there? Don’s great-great-grandmother being given that kind of furniture as a wedding present, she was being bought off, don’t you think? The price for her silence? The Wrights have been poor for generations, they certainly would not have been able to afford such good stuff, ever.’
‘Well, well!’
‘That’s the only reason I can think of for it being in that cottage. Far too grand for it.’
‘Oh, Yes! Even I can tell that. You don’t want to buy it, do you, seeing as perhaps it was once yours, so to speak?’
‘No, I do not. Reminders of my ancestors’ immoral misdeeds I do not need! But thank you, my dear, for being prepared to take it on.’
Muriel was silent for a moment and then she said speculatively, ‘You know the antique washstand we have on the landing, and you don’t like the colour of the marble top, you don’t think it might belong … ?’
Ralph’s eyes widened as he contemplated Muriel’s idea. ‘You could be right. Surely not …’
They both rushed up the stairs and Ralph turned on the landing light so he could see more easily.
Muriel snatched at the flowers and the runner she kept on it. ‘There, we can see better.’
‘My dear! I do believe you’re right. When we were
looking at Don’s stuff I thought it was familiar. It belongs, doesn’t it? It’s part of Don’s suite.’
‘Look, the moulding’s the same and the handles on the drawers.’
‘Well, well! I’m sure we’re right. It is identical.’
‘Maybe there just wasn’t room for it in that bedroom and it had to go back to the Big House.’
Ralph smoothed his hand over the marble top. ‘Can you imagine the gossip when it all arrived at that cottage of Don’s? I’ve never liked this colour. Too red somehow. It seems a shame for it to be separated from everything else.’
Muriel sighed. ‘It must have been so lonely all these years wondering where everything that belonged to it had gone.’
‘Oh, Muriel! My dear. Of course. When the chap comes from the auction house I’ll show him this first then Don’s suite and see what he has to say.’
Muriel slipped her hand into the crook of his arm. ‘Let’s do that. It’s only right it should be together with the rest, where it belongs. I think Don’s going to be amazed at the price he’ll get for it. I don’t think he’s any idea how valuable it is.’
Sylvia tapped at the door and ushered Tom in. Peter shook his hand, and pulled out a chair for him.
Tom cleared his throat and said abruptly, ‘I haven’t brought Evie back, not yet, not till I get things straightened out with you, Rector.’
‘I’m glad you’ve come. The village has been seething with rumours ever since you left so mysteriously and since then with the police popping out from behind every wall. We’d no idea where you’d gone, you see. Look, if it’s a long story …’
‘Which it is.’
‘Then we’ll have coffee and sandwiches, if you don’t
mind. Would that be all right with you? I haven’t had lunch yet and I breakfasted what seems like years ago.’
Tom nodded his thanks.
‘I’ll ask Sylvia to make two lots and then we can settle down.’ Peter closed the study door behind him and sought out Sylvia in the kitchen. ‘Before you go for lunch, Sylvia, could you make another set of sandwiches? I think Tom’s going to be a long time and I’m starving.’
‘Back, is he? I hope it’s not permanent, we’ve suffered enough because of him.’
‘I am reserving judgement until I’ve heard the full story.’
She looked up at him and seeing the honesty of those eyes of his, she retracted her statement. ‘You’re right, of course. But the story had better be good.’
‘We’ll see. Coffee as well, please, and a slice each of …’
Laughing, Sylvia flapped her hands at him. ‘Get on with you! I’ll bring it in.’
‘Thanks.’
Tom didn’t begin his tale until the sandwiches were in front of him. He poured sugar into his cup as though he needed every ounce of support he could get, had a good drink and began. ‘I’m sorry there’s been all this trouble. I never intended it to be so. We thought we’d escaped into paradise when we came here, but it didn’t work out that way, did it? You see, the root of all our problems is that I’ve been a police officer since I was eighteen. Loved the job, I did. Truly felt I was making a real contribution to the world. Evie and me, we married at twenty, but unlike you and the doctor we weren’t able to have children. Evie had several miscarriages, just couldn’t carry, and they couldn’t
find out why. Broke her heart it did, but such is life. We can’t order these things, can we?’
Peter shook his head.
‘Started as a constable and then I moved up to sergeant and then got a chance to go into plain clothes, Detective Sergeant Nicholls. That was a proud day I can tell you. London was a rum place to work in. There was a taste of every criminal activity under the sun there. Somehow one fateful day when they were shorthanded I went out on a job with the drugs squad. That was the first day of the rest of my life. Like an idiot I enjoyed the adrenalin rush, the sheer bloody thrill of it all. The surge of power it gave yer when it came off and you’d made an arrest and put another pig of a dealer behind bars. There were the bad days, days when you failed and they got away to ruin dozens more lives, when you sank so low in spirits you nearly gave up.’
‘More coffee?’
Tom held out his cup. ‘Yes, please. This was when Evie began being ill. She’d had another miscarriage, five months she was so we’d just begun to feel hopeful, but she’d lost it yet again. I was up to my neck in the squad, coming home at all hours and her never knowing if I would come home at all. I didn’t see the signs, thought it was losing the baby that was the trouble, which it was, but it was anxiety over me that compounded the problem.’ He paused a moment, shook his head as he remembered how it had all been.
‘Anyway, came home about two o’clock one morning and she’d cut all the curtains up, and was laid eyes wide open staring into space in the middle of a heap of shreds. Lopped them off just below the curtain hooks she had and set about cutting them up. So I had to insist she got help. It
nearly finished me, the pain, oh dear! The pain.’ Tom swallowed hard. ‘She wasn’t communicating at all so you never knew what she was feeling. Like a dummy she was. So docile. So terribly, terribly sad.’
‘I’m so sorry, Tom. I’d no idea.’
‘I asked them to take me off the drug squad, which to give them their due they did. Eventually Evie came home and her mother came to stay with us to give her a hand, keep her company like, and she’d begun to accept that children would be out of the question. She seemed so much better that daft Tom here decides he can take the risk and get doing what he loved best, undercover work. This time I worked at getting accepted into a gang on the fringe of the big stuff. It was like being an actor but being yourself all at the same time. Two lives lived in the one body. Living a life which was against all your better instincts with the objective of pulling in the gang and getting them off the streets.’
‘You don’t seem like a man who could do this.’
‘Like I said, two people in one body. Funny existence. Sometimes when you woke up you couldn’t remember what you were, him or me. I’d be days away from home, unable to communicate with Evie, except an officer at the station would phone her from time to time to say I was still in the land of the living.’
‘Poor Evie.’
‘Indeed. Yes. Poor Evie. Then things began to get too hot. I was very close, very involved, well accepted, but I had this sixth sense that someone was becoming suspicious of me. Nothing positive, nothing I could put my finger on, just a feeling. But I stuck to it, knowing how close we were to getting to the big boss. Then the balloon went up. We
got it all together one night, and we arrested the big boss just leaving for an important dinner in the City, Rolls-Royce, dinner jacket, chauffeur, the works. What a triumph. They arrested me too to keep my cover, but you’re not safe in prison, you know. If you want to get beaten up that’s the place to go. Some prisons, the prisoners rule not the screws, believe me. I feigned an epileptic fit and they rushed me to the prison hospital, then took me to an outside hospital for treatment, they said, but that was the excuse. In fact they whisked me and Evie away to a secret address.’
‘Tom!’
‘We kept having to move. New identity, new names. It wasn’t easy. Evie had another breakdown, more serious than the first. The only plus was that we’d got our man and broken up the ring. Millions of pounds they were making from selling drugs. Coming in from all over the world. If you saw the lives torn apart like I’ve seen them … you’d understand the triumph of getting the beggars behind bars. You’d sacrifice anything, anything at all.’
Something about the despair in Tom’s voice prompted Peter to ask, ‘To look genuine, to blend in kind of, you didn’t have to take drugs too, did you?’
‘No, no, I made them think I did, I’d seen enough to know how to behave. The one plus about Evie being in hospital for a second time was that while she was there they taught her to do embroidery and it saved her life, literally. You should see her work! You’ll be amazed, such talent, it’s unbelievable. She’s going to have an exhibition when we get back, Sheila Bissett says she’ll organise it – well, she said she would but maybe by now she mightn’t be so keen.’
‘I didn’t know that. She’s never said anything about it. So how did you come to be here?’
‘Well, we were watched and guarded in the safe houses, I dyed my hair, shaved my moustache, Evie had always had short hair so she grew it long, and spent hours and hours and hours and hours embroidering without speaking, never going out because she was too afraid. However, prisoners are not prisoners for ever and I started getting twitchy about things. Thought I was being followed, you know the sort of thing.’
‘Well, no, I don’t.’
‘Of course not, sorry. Well, I didn’t think Evie could take any more. She’d come close a few times to suicide and as it was all my fault I decided we’d strike out, independent like, and give our minders, the police like, the slip. We couldn’t be worse off than we were. Eventually we found here, I bought Mrs Beauchamp’s house, lock, stock and barrel, and we moved in. But …’
Tom looked up with a rueful smile on his face.
‘Yes?’
‘Who should I meet? Kenny Jones. By a million to one chance, I’d met him briefly while I was in prison. I didn’t know him from Adam, but for some reason he’d remembered me. So, round about the time I got the verger’s job he went into the drugs scene to make his fortune, quick, and he made me let him use the Templeton tomb to hide his money because he knew if anyone got on to him the first place they’d look would be his own house. He’s been going into town at weekends selling drugs, so he’s done well out of it.’
Peter was horrified. ‘Kenny? Selling drugs! Kenny Jones!
And using the church to hide his drugs money? Dirty money? Tom, how could you? In God’s house!’
Tom couldn’t look Peter in the face, he was just too ashamed. Head down he said, in a quiet voice, ‘He had a hold over me, you see, said he’d blow the gaffe if I objected, so for Evie’s sake I kept quiet hoping that one day I’d sort it out … It made me feel really bad and I longed to tell you but I couldn’t. I couldn’t bear for Evie to be ill again. I’ve been so happy here and so has Evie. The thought of moving again, well, I couldn’t even begin to think about it.’
Peter was speechless.
‘Kenny, finding I was becoming awkward ’cos my conscience was troubling me, decided to put it around in the right quarter that I was living here and who I was. After Ron and Sheila got beaten up in mistake for us, the police whistled us away during the night and then kept watch.’
‘So where did they take you?’
‘To a safe house.’
‘And Sheila thought you’d been arrested!’
‘Over-active imagination! But she’s been so kind to Evie. However, during one night they came back again to get us but the police were waiting and arrested them.’
‘So that was why they were hiding everywhere. And Kenny and Terry? Where are they?’
‘No idea. They’ve disappeared off the face of the earth. But they’ll be found eventually. On the other hand, though, they might be under a couple of feet of concrete.’
Peter shuddered. ‘Do you mean that?’
‘Oh, yes. You don’t start trading on Turkish Delight’s patch without suffering the consequences.’
‘And you? What about you?’
Peter shook his head. ‘I shall have to think very seriously about that, Tom. You betrayed my trust. I know there were mitigating circumstances, but I’m afraid …’ he shook his head again … ‘you co-operated in the hiding of tainted money on church premises. That really was very wrong.’ To change the subject and give himself a breathing space to make up his mind Peter asked, ‘Are you here to stay now?’
‘We shall be very shortly, the sooner the better. Next week, I think. Evie’s pining for home.’
‘Leave me a contact number or an address, whichever. The village feel you’ve brought great danger to them all, so there could be a lot of opposition to your return. They can’t stop you living in your own house, of course, but as for the other …’
Tom looked Peter straight in the face and pleaded, ‘For Evie’s sake, if nothing else, I’d love to stay and get on with my job. She’s been better here than she’s been for years. This village is so healing, you see. Me getting the job as verger just seemed to put the seal on our safety, to say nothing of her happiness. But, of course, that’s up to you.’
Peter stood up and reached out to shake hands. ‘Thank you for being so candid about things. I shall do my very best for you.’
Tom shook hands. ‘Thanks for listening and thanks for the lunch.’
‘My pleasure.’
‘I shall quite understand if you can’t work the miracle. I know there’ll be a lot of opposition and perhaps I’ve no right to be asking after all that’s happened.’
‘What would you like best to happen?’
‘Me and Evie back here, which we shall be shortly, her having an embroidery exhibition and me as verger again. That would be the very best that could happen. Right where we can feel safe again and welcomed, for a while anyway.’
‘I’ll do my best.’ Peter watched him stride away over the Green to his house. What a man. What a predicament! Could he see any way in which he could give Tom his job back? No, he could not. There was no way he would allow him a position of trust within the church ever again. It quite simply was not to be. Tom had broken the trust he had in him in every way: lying about his past, understandable in the circumstances but not excusable, and letting Kenny get the upper hand. Peter cringed at the thought of money tainted by filthy greed and agony and very possibly murder being hidden in his church.
A week to the day after speaking to Peter, Tom and Evie came home. Willie had locked up the church hall after Scouts and had just turned into Church Lane when he saw their car turn right from the Culworth Road into Stocks Row.