Authors: Rebecca Shaw
Village Gossip (10 page)
‘From what I hear that’s just about all you do do, act under his instructions. A yes man, that’s what you are. A yes man. He’s got you right where he wants yer. Same as yer
wife has yer, right where she wants yer.’ As an afterthought she added, ‘Except she doesn’t want yer.’
Jeremy struggled to his feet. ‘Madam, if you please.’
‘We’ll pay him for the crazy paving. He’s getting everything back, everything. So if he’s no worse off, do you think I might persuade …’
‘I do not, Vera. It’s more than my job’s worth to cancel the charges.’
The word ‘job’ jolted Vera. ‘And our Rhett. What about his job?’
‘He finishes today.’
‘You wouldn’t do that to him! He was only trying to cheer me up. That’s all. Just cheer me up. A good turn, that’s all. And this is his reward. He’ll be heartbroken.’
‘He shouldn’t have stolen, should he?’
‘He didn’t, he just kind of did a long term borrow.’
‘There’s nothing more to be said.’ Jeremy nodded in the direction of the door. ‘Let yourself out.’
‘Well, if you want to lose the best under gardener you’ve had in years then that’s up to you. He’s got his diploma, so I don’t suppose he’ll be out of a job for long.’
‘No one will employ him if he has a criminal record.’
‘Criminal record! You’re prosecuting him as well?’
‘Of course. You for receiving stolen goods and him for stealing. The estate has been driven into taking a stance on this. We lose thousands with all this pinching here and there, and it’s got to stop.’
‘Well, all I can say is damn your eyes. All this over a few stingy bits of crazy paving and he’s a multi millionaire. We’ll be ruined, but he’ll go from strength to strength. It damned well isn’t fair.’
Vera stormed out of Jeremy’s office, sped down the drive as fast as she could and only remembered that night when she went to bed that her flat shoes were still under the bush
at the Big House. Well, she thought, the dratted, dreary, boring things can stay there till they rot. Just like I’m going to rot.
The full implications of the situation didn’t strike home until Vera went to the Royal Oak the following night. To her delight, Willie, Sylvia and Jimmy were at her favourite table and also Pat Jones, Duckett that was, waiting for her Barry to join her after the rehearsal.
‘Vera!’ Sylvia patted the seat beside her. ‘Come and sit next to me. Willie, get Vera a drink.’
In obedience to Sylvia’s request Willie stood up. ‘What will yer have?’
‘Arsenic?’
‘Come on, it won’t come to that.’
‘Won’t it? It’s a police job yer know. In court. I could go to prison.’
Pat looked at her and said accusingly, ‘It’s all your Rhett’s fault.’
Vera nodded. ‘All he wanted to do was cheer me up ’cos I ’adn’t got the job as wardrobe mistress. That Mrs Jones got there before me, as yer know. I know I was rude to her, but she cut me right out and I longed to do it.’ A faraway look came in her eyes and Sylvia squeezed her hand. ‘Poor lad, he’s lost his job, yer know. Big fat Jeremy says even though he’s got a diploma, with a criminal record he’ll never get another job.’
Willie had come back with her drink and heard the last few words. As he put it down and pocketed his change he said, ‘Yer mean he’s being prosecuted as well?’
Vera nodded. ‘Me for receiving and ’im for stealing. Just a few old pots and a rusty table and chairs. It’s not fair. He worked hours on ’em cleaning the rust off. So now old
Fitch gets ’em back like new.’ She took a sip of her lager and sat shaking her head in desperation.
Pat said angrily, ‘And what about me?’
‘What about you, you’re not involved.’
‘No, but my Dad is.’
‘So?’
‘When old Fitch gets back from the States Jeremy says they’re going to decide whether or not Dad loses his job, too. After all, the gardens are his sole responsibility.’
‘He’d never sack your dad! Greenwood Stubbs sacked! Never!’
‘Don’t you be too sure. We’re shaking in our shoes, believe me.’
‘But where would he be without him? The gardens! The glasshouses! He’d never find another to replace him, not like your dad.’
‘Old Fitch is in no mood for being sentimental, he’s on the warpath and we’re being used as an example. They steal like mad from the estate. Fencing posts, top soil, tools, wood, paint, electric drills, you name it. They all dunk old Fitch is fair game. He knows it and he’s out to stop it. So now he’s got actual evidence of stealing and the balloon’s going up.’
Slowly Vera thought through what Pat had said. ‘It’d just be a fine, wouldn’t it though?’
Pat shrugged her shoulders. Willie gloomily contemplated his ale. Sylvia grew cold with the thought which had just struck her. Pat and her dad would be sure to lose the house which went with the head gardener’s job, in which case Pat and Barry, Greenwood and Dean and Michelle would be homeless. She decided to stay sympathetically silent.
Jimmy spoke up. ‘I may not have led a blameless life, but I’ve never actually stolen anything. It strikes me that you’re
all feeling sorry for yourselves and thinking how unfair it all is, when in fact yer guilty.’
A stunned silence greeted his remarks, followed by an enraged babble of noise.
‘Jimmy! You of all people.’
‘Well, I never!’
‘Whose side are you on?’
‘Turned capitalist, ’ave yer, now yer in business for yourself?’
‘You’re a traitor, you are!’
Jimmy raised a hand to silence them all. ‘Just a minute. Answer me this question. Leaving aside the fact that the stuff was all lying unused around the estate, who does it belong to? Not you, Vera. Not your Rhett. Nor, Pat, does it belong to your dad even though he’s head gardener. So who does it belong to?’
Reluctantly they all said, ‘Mr Fitch.’
‘Exactly. That’s my point.’
Vera protested. ‘But it was lying about doing nothing. He wanted rid of it, he said so. He wouldn’t have missed it. What I want to know is who told him?’
They all agreed they didn’t know. Vera smiled triumphantly. ‘That’s the point, he’d never have realised if someone hadn’t told him. I’ve got to find out who it was.’
Jimmy groaned. ‘Yer ’aven’t got the point, ’ave yer. No matter who told him, yer still guilty of receiving stolen goods. Finding out who let on’ll alter nothing.’
‘I’d still like to know who it was, though.’
Sylvia didn’t improve Vera’s mood by saying, ‘Anyone about that afternoon would have seen them unloading, you know. Anyone at all.’
Vera eyed Jimmy speculatively. ‘It wasn’t you, was it? Coming over all moral about theft just now, it makes me wonder.’
Pat said, ‘And so would I. He wouldn’t have minded Vera having a few stones and that, he’d have given them to her himself.’
Jimmy tapped the table with his forefinger, ‘And that’s why he isn’t up there and old Fitch is. Men like Sir Ralph and those who went before him were too kind. They didn’t watch the pennies, whereas old Fitch always has done and that’s why he owns the Big House and old Ralph doesn’t. Whatever yer say, Rhett, with your dad’s connivance, stole that crazy paving and you’re getting what yer deserve, hard though it may seem.’
Vera stood up. ‘Well, all I can say is, Jimmy Glover, I shan’t be drinking with you any more. I’ve always thought you were one of us, but I can see now you aren’t and never have been. You’re a traitor to your class, you are. A traitor. That’s what.’
With what little dignity she had left after the battering of the last couple of days Vera left the bar, managing to hold on to her tears until she’d got through the door.
Sylvia filled the silence Vera left behind by saying, ‘All this is Hugo Maude’s fault. He’s a lot to answer for.’
Willie asked, ‘Yer mean
he
told old Jeremy?’
‘Noooo! Of course not. If she’d got the job of wardrobe mistress, Rhett wouldn’t have come up with the idea of cheering her up, would he? So at bottom, when all’s said and done, it’s Hugo that’s caused it all.’
‘Not only that from what I hear,’ Jimmy said slyly.
Sylvia avoided Jimmy’s eye and finished the last of her gin and tonic.
Pat asked, ‘So what have you heard?’
‘Anyone ready for a refill? Be quick, I’m parched!’
They all agreed they were and he took their orders and eventually came back balancing a loaded tray. Barry sat down beside Pat, gave her a hearty kiss, shared out the drinks, toasted them all and downed half his glass at the first go.
‘I needed that. By Jove, what a night we’ve had. Hugo’s been losing his rag every five minutes.’
Sylvia laughed. ‘He was firing on all cylinders when I left. He kept it up, did he?’
‘I should say. He rants and raves and then next second he’s as sweet as honey.’ He shuffled closer to Pat, and whispered, ‘Mind you, Dr Harris gets all the honey bit, it’s the rest of us who get the ranting. That right, Sylvia?’
Sylvia gave a non-committal nod.
‘In fact if I was Neville Neal I’d have resigned tonight. He couldn’t get a word right.’
Pat asked ‘Yer mean he hadn’t learned his lines?’
‘Learned his lines all right, just wasn’t saying ’em like Hugo wanted him to. Give him his due, Neville stuck it out till he got it right.’
Pat recollected her responsibilities and asked, ‘Barry, where’s our Michelle? Who’s taken her home?’
‘Rhett.’
‘Rhett? Oh, I see. Not our Dean?’
‘No. Dean’s over there, look, knocking ’em back. Michelle did real well tonight. Hugo’s very pleased with her.’
Pat beamed. ‘Well, I suppose that’s something to cheer us
up, there isn’t much else, is there?’ She looked across to where Hugo was standing beside Caroline toasting her not only with his drink but with his eyes. ‘Dr Harris is skating on thin ice again by the looks of it.’
They watched Hugo put an arm around her waist and keep it there.
Pat asked Sylvia if the Rector would be coming again tonight.
Sylvia shook her head. ‘Can’t do that twice, once but not twice. I’ve an idea he caught it in the neck about that.’
Willie asked what on earth was up with Dr Harris? Something funny had come over her and no mistake.
When they’d all finished watching Hugo lead Caroline to a separate table for two they all looked at Sylvia. ‘Well?’
‘I can’t understand it actually. Her and the Rector, well yer don’t need me to tell you how much they think about each other. Sounds soppy, but they are very, very much in love with one another, like as if they’d married only yesterday. He worships her and her him. Yet he can stand by and give her the freedom to mess about with him.’ She jerked her thumb in Hugo’s direction.
Barry observed, ‘Seems funny to me. If Pat was carrying on like that I’d have blacked both his eyes for starters, and broken both his legs for the main course.’
Willie grunted. ‘Well, they’re educated, aren’t they? Different class o’ people from us. They see things differently’
Barry snorted his disgust. ‘I bet it’s true they’ve been having it off. See him running his finger up her arm? Sexy that. They’re only the same as the rest of us when it comes to hanky panky.’
Jimmy’s eyes twinkled.
Willie looked embarrassed.
Pat gave Barry a nudge to shut him up.
Sylvia became incensed. ‘Barry! Really! What a thing to say!’
Barry leaned over towards her and said quietly so as not to be overheard, ‘Well, admit it, that’s why you’re so worried. That’s what you’re dreading’s happened. I’m telling you by the looks of ’em it has. When the Rector finds out then believe me it’ll be Coronation night and Bonfire Night fireworks rolled into one!’
Jimmy intervened by changing the subject to the chances of the Turnham Malpas cricket team this week, and how was Barry’s batting lately.
But Hugo’s finger was still following a vein on Caroline’s arm, and she was still enjoying the sensation.
In bed that night after Peter had gone to sleep Caroline grew too restless to settle and went downstairs to make herself a drink. Sitting in her rocking chair beside the Aga she sipped her tea and thought about temptation. She looked at her arm, remembering the feeling of Hugo’s finger tracing along her skin. God, he was tempting. There was that indefinable quality which attracted her to him. The way his hand clasped hers, those fingers so strong and yet so elegant. He was truly a man designed for women to adore. She realised Hugo knew he was desirable, whereas Peter never realised for one moment how attractive women found him. Hugo knew women fell for him. He was arrogant, self opinionated, egotistical, not at all the kind of person who in her right mind she would have liked, but at the same time he was gloriously fascinating. Damn him. The mature, experienced, commonsensical, well beloved Caroline had no need to crave for Peter’s love; she had that always, forever. It was hers, whatever she did, whenever she needed it. But right now Peter’s kind of unwavering love had become suffocating; she needed something different, something deeply exciting, before it was all too late. Some
exquisite experience that would light her up whenever she thought about it in the years to come. In her heart of hearts the untried virginal Caroline of yesteryear lusted for Hugo. Coming as he did at this very moment in her life he was like the answer to a prayer.
Parallel to her thoughts about temptation and where it might lead ran her thoughts about her children. There was no way she could smash their lives to pieces, and that would be what she would do if she left Peter for Hugo. For Hugo? What was she thinking of? A life of racketing about, never knowing who he was with, what he was doing, never being sure he would come home at night. And the children. In all conscience could she take them from their blood parent? But they were hers, Peter told her so, time and again. They loved her as she loved them. Their dear hearts would break.
How sure could one be of a person like Hugo? One couldn’t. Not so entirely as she could Peter. With Hugo she would have wonderful, glorious, delirious, hilarious times but when it came to the real challenge of life, when the chips were down then where would Hugo be?
Her mind wandered away from reality and she was back in the wood with Hugo’s head resting on her legs and her fingers entwined in his dark silky hair. She remembered how she felt about him in the role of Leonard and particularly his attempt at seduction in the second act. With her cup she toasted him as the actor, the lover, the man and wished she was drinking some exotic, madly expensive wine instead of dull, everyday, comforting, mundane tea. Her thoughts were broken by a cry. Instantly, she raced for the stairs.
‘All right, Beth, I’m coming! All right!’
After she’d soothed away Beth’s nightmare Caroline returned to bed and lay on her side looking at Peter in the glow of her bedside light. She could see just the faintest of
lines around his eyes, and a very slight hint of a white hair here and there above his ears. He had one hand tucked under his chin, the fingers half curled, and she examined his well manicured nails and recalled the sensitivity of the touch of his fingers. She leaned over him and breathed in the familiar scent of him mingling with the faint aroma of the soap he’d used before he came to bed, and risked waking him by touching his cheek with her fingers and then kissing him. But it wasn’t only his physical attributes which impressed. It was his courage, his all-adoring love and his steadfastness.
Unquestioning. Profound. Passionate. What more could a woman want?
Impatiently Caroline turned off the light and lay down again. Peter, feeling her presence even in sleep, reached out an arm and drew her close. How she wished he hadn’t. At this moment she wasn’t worthy of him.
The phone rang around half past nine the next morning. ‘Turnham Malpas Rectory. Peter Harris speaking.’
‘Oh! Good morning! Hope I’m not ringing too early.’
‘Hugo! Good morning. What can I do for you?’
‘It’s Caroline really. Is she in?’
‘She is indeed. I’ll get her for you. Hold the line.’ Peter went to the study door and called, ‘Caroline! It’s for you.’ He picked up the receiver again and said, ‘How are the rehearsals going?’
‘Absolutely fine, thanks. Taking a bit of knocking into shape but very well really. Your dear wife is doing excellently. Really got into the part.’
‘She’s certainly enjoying herself, all due to you.’
There was a moment’s hesitation and then Hugo replied, ‘Good. I’m glad. How’s life for you?’
‘Couldn’t be busier. Would you mind if I sat in on a
rehearsal sometime? Just interested to see what goes on. Never seen a world class actor at work, you see.’
‘Be delighted. Come any night you can get a sitter for those children of yours.’
Peter thought he detected a slight emphasis on the word ‘yours’. ‘Ah, here she is. It’s Hugo, darling.’ He made no move to leave the study so she could speak to him privately.
‘Hello, Hugo! What can I do for you?’
Peter watched her listening to him: the restlessness, the barely disguised excitement, the slight huskiness of her voice. He turned back to the work on his desk.
‘I’d love to. Yes, I really would. No, Peter’s busy all day. I’d need to be back by three because of the children.’ There came a pause as she listened to him. ‘No, he cannot, he’s working. See you about half past eleven then? OK. Bye.’
Peter watched the receiver being returned to its cradle, and waited.
‘Darling, you don’t mind if Hugo and I go out to lunch, do you? Just some things we need to talk over about the play. It’s difficult when he’s producing and acting at the same time, you see. There are important things he doesn’t get a chance to tell me.’
Peter swung his chair round and faced her. ‘Of course I don’t mind. All I will say is
be careful
.’
‘You’re not suggesting he might seduce me over the lunch table, are you?’
Peter studied what his reply should be. ‘That kind of comment is not fitting and well you know it. Of course I don’t mean that.’
‘Good, because there’s no need for you to worry.’
‘I’m not entirely blind to the effect he has on you. It’s hardly surprising, even I can see he is a very attractive man.’
‘Not to me he isn’t.’
Peter sighed. ‘You’re fooling yourself, my darling girl.’
‘Is this on the basis that the onlooker sees most of the game?’
‘Something like that.’
‘I’m not a complete fool.’
‘I know. Indeed I do. Just a friendly warning, don’t you know.’
‘No, Peter, it isn’t. You’re doing what you always do, standing aside and allowing me to do whatever I want, pretending to be giving me my freedom but at bottom it’s because you’re so damn confident that your love for me will bring me to heel.’
‘What would you prefer me to do? Go break his legs?’
Caroline gave him a slight smile. ‘You could at that. At least it would be
something
.’
‘Whatever, the warning still stands.
Be careful
. I don’t want you hurt.’
‘How about if I fancy being hurt? Fancy having a fling? Fancy doing my own thing? Fancy not doing the Rector’s wife bit?’
‘That’s up to you. Do as you wish.’ He swung his chair to face the desk and she took is as a dismissal. After she’d left the study, Peter tried to settle to his work, but on every page Hugo’s face intruded on the words. He put a stop to the pretence of working and sat with his head in his hands thinking. He knew Caroline would realise the situation that was developing, she was too astute not to. What made it worse from his point of view was that she was going headlong into it with her eyes wide open. The play was merely the vehicle by which she gained access to the man. Damn and blast him. Why had he ever come?
The restaurant Hugo chose was one recommended by Jimbo. ‘He says it’s brilliant and just right for a tête-à-tête
luncheon.’ He took a moment from watching the traffic to glance at her. ‘Happy?’
‘I am. It’s years since I had a ride in an open car. They really are fun, aren’t they?’
‘They are. Fun, that’s just what you need. Fun and lots of it.’
‘You’re right. I do. Being a doctor all the people you speak to you are people not at their best. It can be very draining. Then Peter has a similar kind of job in a way and between the two of us we have all the cares of the world on our shoulders. A bit of fun
is
just what I need.’ Hugo pressed firmly on the accelerator as they turned onto the bypass and her hair began blowing about, bringing a stunning sense of freedom to her which she hadn’t experienced in a long time.
‘Did he mind?’
‘Yes and no. He’s like that.’
‘Loves you very much, doesn’t he?’
Caroline shouted back. ‘He does. Too much sometimes.’
‘Ah! I see. Cloying, is he?’
‘Absolutely not. Well, just a little. What did you say this restaurant was called?’
‘I didn’t. Believe it or believe it not it’s called The Lovers’ Knot.’
Caroline laughed. ‘That is just too obvious for words. Are you sure it was Jimbo’s suggestion?’
‘Why? Does the word “lover” have some significance for you and me?’
Quickly Caroline shook her head. ‘Of course not, I don’t know why I said it.’
Hugo smiled and pressed even harder on the accelerator. As the speedometer went up to a hundred he smiled even more broadly.
‘It does for me. Have significance. I want you, Caroline.’
‘Yes. I do.’
‘Hard luck. How far is this place?’
‘About twelve miles.’
‘Twelve miles! Just for lunch? What are you thinking of?’
‘I hug my thoughts to my breast, they are not for public declaration.’
‘You are being ridiculous. I don’t want to go twelve miles for lunch. Please turn round and we’ll go to The George in Culworth. That’s much nearer.’
‘Too late.’
‘That’s what I shall be if you don’t go back. I can’t have the children coming home to an empty house, they would be devastated. In any case I’d never live it down if they had to sit on the doorstep waiting for me.’
‘Tut tut. Your reputation in jeopardy again. Ring Peter and tell him you’ll be late. He can be there.’
‘No, he can’t.’
‘Yes, he can.’
‘No, he can’t.’
‘This sounds more like Gilbert and Sullivan by the minute.’
‘I mean it, Hugo. I want you to turn round and go back. There, look, half a mile there’s a turn off.’ This caused Hugo to speed even faster.
‘You are upsetting me.’
‘No, I am abducting you, my dear,’ he said in the tones of a thoroughly ham actor, as he twirled the ends of his imaginary waxed moustache.
She had to laugh.
‘That’s wonderful, hearing you laugh like that.’
‘You’re right it is. I feel as though I’ve been deadly serious for far too long. Carry on.’ She waved a carefree hand. ‘Drive wherever you like. I don’t care.’
Hugo and Caroline arrived back at five o’clock. Hugo tooted the horn with a flourish as he pulled up outside the Rectory. ‘There we are. Home at last. I have an apt quotation for this situation but it won’t quite come to mind.’
‘Good, because I haven’t time to listen. Where’s my bag? Oh, here under the seat.’ As she brought her head up he kissed her ear. ‘Hugo! For God’s sake.’
‘I know. Your reputation. Sorry.’
She didn’t wait for him to open the door for her but got out, saying, ‘Thanks for a wonderful day, it’s been truly memorable. And the restaurant just as great as you promised.’
Hugo put his hand to his heart and murmured, ‘I am desolate. My darling girl is leaving me.’
His unwitting use of a phrase of Peter’s brought her back to earth with a crash. ‘For God’s sake just go.’ As she fitted her key in the latch she heard Beth shouting. Relief flooded over her. Without even answering Hugo’s wave she fled inside.
‘Mummy!’ Beth raced across the hall and flung her arms round her. ‘You’re back. Daddy came for us. We thought you’d got lost.’
‘Not lost, darling, just busy talking to Hugo Maude about the play.’ She bent down to kiss Beth and as she straightened up she realised Peter was standing in the kitchen doorway listening to her.
‘You’re back. At last,’ he said.
‘Of course. Did you think I wouldn’t be back?’
‘No, that wasn’t what I was thinking at all.’
‘We’ve had lunch.’
‘You said.’
‘Lovely place. Not somewhere to take children though, it’s hideously expensive.’
‘It would have to be. What’s it called?’
Alex burst out of the sitting room where he’d been watching television. ‘Mummy! Miss Pascoe let us play with her cats, Beano and Dandy. We had such fun.’
‘Good. I’m sorry I’m late, I didn’t realise the time.’
‘Daddy came to find us.’
Caroline looked her thanks at Peter. ‘Silly me. I shan’t let it happen again.’
Peter said, ‘I am glad. Just once is once too often, isn’t it?’
The children disappeared. ‘I did say it was just for lunch.’
‘I know you did. What did you think I meant?’
She stood in front of the hall mirror and began dragging her comb through the tangles in her hair. ‘He had the hood down on the car. It’s ruined my hair.’ Caroline tugged painfully at the knots.
‘Here, let me have a try.’ He took the comb from her and began gently combing her hair at the back. He caught her looking at his reflection in the mirror, and for a moment he looked straight back at her. Between two people who know each other intimately, a look can speak volumes. He was trying to assess how far things had gone that afternoon between her and Hugo; she appeared to be asking his forgiveness. But for what? Being late for the children?
Peter turned her round and began to comb the knots at the front. ‘My word, you’re brave, you’re not even flinching.’