Read Trouble in the Village (Tales from Turnham Malpas) Online
Authors: Rebecca Shaw
Trouble in the Village (Tales from Turnham Malpas) (23 page)
‘Hello! There you are! I’ve been looking for you. I think it’s been the best Bonfire Night we’ve had in years and you should see the refreshments! It’s cost old Fitch a packet I can tell you. They’re all in there stuffing their faces as if they were expecting a seven-year famine like in the Bible. I’ve come to get you, my Ron and your Tom are in the queue. Come on, let’s join them.’
Evie half shook her head but changed it to a nod. Sheila put her hand in the crook of her arm and hustled her off before she wavered again. The marquee was packed. Long tables groaning with huge silver salvers piled high with all manner of savoury delights filled the length of the marquee. The queue wound its way around the other three sides, circling a few tables and chairs for those who couldn’t stand and the drinks table serving soft drinks and tea and coffee. Jimbo had brought in serving staff from outside the village, but in charge was Barry Jones’ wife Pat; they were all working with a will under her stern eye. Sheila squeezed Evie through the crowd and finally found Ron and Tom still nowhere near the head of the queue.
‘Here we are! I’ve found her! We shall miss the fireworks at this rate. But what an evening. And we still haven’t had the jacket potatoes and the children their toffee apples.’
‘I love toffee apples.’
Sheila looked indulgently at Evie. ‘Then you shall have one, even if I have to ask Mr Fitch himself.’
The delighted look on Evie’s face was reward in itself.
Sheila couldn’t cope with silence, and when she found
the four of them standing there with nothing being said she piped up with ‘Isn’t it wonderful how well Evie’s classes are going? We’ve had to close the list now. Twelve’s quite enough if we’re going to get our share of Evie’s attention. She and I have come up with the idea that when we’ve all got more … What was that word you used, Evie?’
‘Proficient.’
‘That’s right, more proficient, we’re going to start a project, all of us together. We don’t know what yet, though, do we?’
Evie agreed. ‘No, we don’t.’
‘But it’ll be something inspired I’ve no doubt, knowing Evie. She’s very talented your wife, you know, Tom, I’m just glad I discovered her. Ron and I got asked to eat with the posh people in the Big House but this is much more fun and you don’t have to watch your manners quite so much, and you can be greedy without anyone noticing! Oh, look it’s us next. Grab a plate, Evie, and help yourself. There’s plenty to go at, so don’t hold back. It’s free. Go on. Go on.’
In the hall of the Big House Ralph and Muriel were talking to Arthur, Neville Neal and Jimbo. Balancing plates and drinks and making conversation always taxed Muriel, so she kept her concentration on eating rather than talk but her attention was caught by hearing Ralph say, ‘So my accountancy firm has been bought out and it’s now a massive concern and I’m not best pleased. One loses the personal touch, don’t you know? Would you be too busy for me to come to the office to see you and we could have a discussion?’
Ralph nodded. ‘Good. I’ll ring to make an appointment.’
‘What a good idea. Look forward to seeing you. Very pleased. I’m sure we can be of service.’
Jimbo, listening to this, felt there were undertones to Ralph’s proposals to which he was not privy. Then Ralph almost immediately turned to him. On the
qui vive
though he was, Ralph’s comment to him caught Jimbo unawares. ‘I’ve been elected to the committee of the county hunting, shooting and fishing lot, my title, I suppose, helps, you know, they think. They’ve become very dissatisfied with the caterers they’ve used up to now: changed hands and they’re not up to par. Christmas Ball and such, you know. I expect perhaps you’d be too busy to quote.’
Jimbo almost shouted Bingo! out loud. He’d been after the contract for years. It meant, if he was successful, not just catering for the usual social functions but because people with the countryside at heart were often high-powered and they had weddings and twenty-first birthday parties and … ‘I could quote, of course. Be delighted to. But I’m not a cheap option. If they want first-rate food and service they’ll have to pay. But yes. Gladly. You can put our name forward.’
‘Good. Good.’
Then Ralph offered to refill their glasses, which he did
with charm and élan and he included Muriel in their conversation for a moment then addressed Arthur Prior, his illegitimate cousin twice removed and not unlike himself in looks, and turned on the charm. ‘I was having lunch at the Conservative Club in Culworth the other day, Arthur, and I overheard something which might be of interest to you.’
‘Oh, what was that, Ralph?’
‘You know the two fields on the east side of your farm between you and Wallop Down Wood?’
Arthur nodded. ‘I do indeed.’
Ralph’s face was full of innocence as he sipped his wine and paused solely for dramatic effect. ‘They’re for sale. Coming up for auction in Gloucester in February.’
Arthur’s face lit up. ‘For sale! I don’t believe it. I’ve been after those two fields for years, but I’ve never found out who owned ’em. They’ve been neglected but with good husbandry they’d make rich pasture for my cows and no mistake.’ He gave Ralph a friendly nudge with his elbow and said, ‘Thanks for letting me know. Forewarned is forearmed, brilliant. That’s made my day.’
‘Not at all, Arthur, pleased to be of service.’
Arthur, positively hopping with delight, turned to Muriel and gave her a kiss. ‘This husband of yours is worth his weight in gold.’
Muriel smiled and said, ‘I know.’
Jimbo said he’d better wander off to find Harriet as he was neglecting her but Ralph called him back: ‘This business of Tom …
All three of them said, ‘Ahhhhh …’
‘Excellent chap, but to be quite honest I’ve had a change of heart. I’ve decided that Peter is right. We can’t condone
deceit, nor dishonesty, nor the fact that he permitted polluted money to be kept on church premises. In this day and age we have to take a stand against the slackening of moral standards, and whilst it would be courageous and right to allow him to be verger after all that has happened, ultimately it quite simply cannot be.’
His statement was greeted with complete silence by the three of them.
‘I mean it. We’ve got to reconsider our position. Seriously reconsider.’
They were in a cleft stick and they knew it. Not so much Arthur, who could buy the fields without reliance on Ralph – all he felt was gratitude for being told something he could well have missed – but both Jimbo and Neville sensed that their agreement to Tom not being reinstated was a necessary requirement for Neville to become his accountant and for Jimbo to get Ralph’s support for the contract for the country-pursuits lot. If they refused they stood to lose and they knew it.
Ralph could almost measure the tension between the four of them: it quivered and quavered in the air as they pondered his request. Would they or wouldn’t they? He wanted them to agree with him and hoped none of them would mention Evie, which would put his own determination not to reinstate Tom in jeopardy. He knew Jimbo would be the last to agree, if indeed he ever did, but Ralph guessed it would be Neville who would capitulate first and it was.
‘I have great respect for your judgement, Sir Ralph, and if that’s how you think it should be, then I for one won’t stand in your way. I’ll fall in with Peter’s decision.’ He flashed his
self-satisfied smile at Ralph and then at Muriel, who almost felt he was inviting her to pat him on the head for being such a good boy.
Arthur, with nothing to lose, agreed. ‘Why not? I’m sure Peter knows better than me how these things should go. I agree.’
Jimbo, angry at being outmanoeuvred and quite deliberately so, didn’t answer for a moment. Ralph offered him more wine but Jimbo put his hand over his glass. ‘No, thanks.’ He glanced across the hall and saw Harriet, head back, laughing at some remark of Peter’s and guessed what she would have to say if he told her he’d refused yet again to change his mind about Tom. ‘Very well. Peter’s got my vote. You can tell him straight away, if you like.’
‘Good! Good! Now somehow between us we must find a job worthy of Tom which will keep him in Turnham Malpas. So please apply your not inconsiderable intelligence to solving the problem for him, and most especially for Evie. We must be seen to be compassionate which at bottom, of course, we really are.’
Ralph made a point of smiling at Jimbo, but Jimbo turned away, unhappy to realise that his relationship with Ralph would never be quite the same again, and angry with him for having taken advantage of his Achilles’ heel so mercilessly. But Jimbo cheered up when he reached the conclusion that maybe Ralph might turn out to be proved right. How could anyone really know? As he reached Harriet’s side she beamed at him and he winked at her and felt his good humour restored.
Muriel wasn’t entirely sure she agreed with Peter about Tom but she had bowed to his superior understanding of
the moral dilemma with which they were faced. Feeling forlorn she left the men to their conversation and wandered off outside. A jacket potato eaten by the bonfire suddenly had more appeal for her than socialising.
The potatoes were being distributed by the Scouts and it was Fergus Charter-Plackett who jokingly offered her one. ‘There’s a napkin too. Look, here.’
‘Oh! yes, please. It’s no fun eating one indoors. Thank you, Fergus, very much. I’m looking forward to the fireworks. Are you?’
Fergus was puzzled by her almost childlike appreciation of the fun of Bonfire Night. ‘I am, Lady Templeton. Yes.’
Muriel wandered away tossing the scorching hot potato from hand to hand, grateful she had her gloves on. The crisp night air brightened her spirits and she decided to eat her potato away from the crowd, because one couldn’t be discreet when eating them and she wanted to enjoy hers without regard to good manners.
She went to stand in the shadow of the refreshment marquee, from where she could observe the fire but not be seen. When she’d finished, she wiped her mouth with the napkin and was debating what to do with the potato skin, because she’d never liked them and had never eaten one in her life and wasn’t going to start now, when she heard a rustling behind her. I’ll ignore it, it’ll be someone having a kiss and I don’t want to know. But the rustling turned into a voice saying, ‘Lady Templeton! Lady Templeton!’ A man’s voice which she thought she recognised but couldn’t quite place.
Startled Muriel said, ‘Yes? Who is it? Who’s there? Well, make yourself known.’ A close footfall and there he stood
behind her. Muriel fumbled in her pocket for her torch and shone it straight in the face of the intruder.
She gasped out loud. ‘Ohhhh! I don’t believe it! Kenny Jones! I thought … we all thought you were … dead! You did give me a fright!’ Her hand on her heart to stay its thudding she said, ‘What are you doing creeping about like this?’
In a hoarse whisper Kenny said, ‘I’m sorry to frighten you, Lady Templeton, but you being sympathetic like I thought you’d be the best to ask. I need a word with my mum.’
‘Well, she’s here. Go find her. She was heading for the … powder room the last time I saw her. Kenny, she’ll be delighted to see you, she’s been so worried.’
‘Trouble is, I don’t want no one else to see me, it’s a bit difficult as you might say. But it is very urgent.’ An anxious hand on her arm, he begged, ‘Can you get her for me? But not a word to a living soul, mind. It’s very important that, for no one to know I’m here. Promise?’
‘I promise. Kenny! What have you been up to?’ While Kenny framed a reply Muriel made up her mind to do as he asked. ‘No, don’t answer that. You wait there. I could be a while but I will get back to you. Take care, Kenny, the two of you have broken your mother’s heart. Try not to hurt her any more. Good luck with whatever you do. I won’t tell.’ She patted his arm, twinkled her fingers at him and strolled away.
Muriel went round the front of the refreshment marquee and ventured in, thinking this would be the best place to try first, and there Mrs Jones was, in the midst of a laughing crowd from down Shepherds Hill, a plateful of food in her
hand, enjoying herself. How to get her out without too much fuss, that was the question. Well, she’d better be truthful and come right out with it, it was the only way. Some silly trumped-up excuse would sound ridiculous.
‘Mrs Jones! I’m sorry to interrupt you but there’s someone outside asking for you.’
‘Asking for me? Who?’
‘I don’t know them at all,’ she hoped she’d be forgiven for that white lie, ‘but it’s you they want.’
‘Well, whoever it is, Lady Templeton, they’ll have to wait till I’ve finished eating.’
‘They can’t. They’re in a hurry.’ Muriel became agitated, she really was no good at this cloak-and-dagger stuff. ‘Really in a hurry.’ Muriel tried winking at Mrs Jones but only managed to distort her face and look foolish.
Finally Muriel saw from her face that Mrs Jones had got the message.
‘I see. Well, then. I’ll come.’ Her face a picture of studied nonchalance, Mrs Jones told her friends to keep an eye on her food, and she’d be back.
Outside the marquee Muriel whispered, ‘It’s your Kenny come to see you. Come with me.’
‘Our Kenny? Oh, thank God! Where is he?’
‘He’s just round the back here. Call his name, he’ll come.’
Muriel walked away with tears in her eyes.
Mrs Jones called out quietly, ‘Kenny! It’s Mum.’
When Kenny emerged from the shadows Mrs Jones wrapped her arms around him and hugged him close. ‘Oh, love! Where have yer been? All these weeks, wondering. Our Terry, is he here?’