(6/13) Gossip from Thrush Green (16 page)

At first, they forbore to tell them of the shortcomings of Tullivers' temporary residents, but as Harold Shoosmith told Isobel: 'It is only a matter of time before all is revealed - and that much embellished, I have no doubt.' He was to be proved right within a week.

But before these unwelcome comments were made, Winnie and Jennie had packed their bags and taken the train to Torquay.

Jenny's agitation at first hearing of the plan had gradually changed to pleasurable anticipation. This was increased when she recalled that an old childhood friend, another inmate of the orphanage, had married a draper in the town. It was true that they only wrote to each other at Christmas time, exchanging handkerchiefs or bath salts, but they shared potent memories of their early home and had a strong affection for each other.

Winnie was delighted to hear of this link, and an invitation to Harry and Bessie to have tea with them at the hotel on the Sunday was warmly accepted.

The hotel itself gave Jenny confidence at once. She had secretly feared that everything would be over-poweringly grand. Certainly all in sight was harmonious and beautifully kept, a virtue which appealed to house-proud Jenny immediately. But besides this, the hotel staff were welcoming, the service unobtrusive and efficient, and the windows overlooked a well-kept garden with the sparkling sea beyond. Jenny's spirits rose as she unpacked in the bedroom next to Winnie's, stopping to gaze at the view on each trip to the wardrobe. Who would have thought she would ever be in such a lovely place? And so far from Thrush Green too?

To her surprise she felt relief rather than sadness at the thought of the distance between her present bedroom and the one at home. Somehow it was good to get away from the old familiar view, the chestnut avenue, the children running to school, Mr Jones watering the hanging baskets outside The Two Pheasants.

Above all, she had to admit, it was a relief to get away from Percy Hodge. Perhaps now she could see things more clearly without his presence to upset her.

Ah well! Tomorrow she would see Bessie again, and her husband for the first time. It was good to be looking forward to new interests. She would forget Thrush Green for a while, and really make the most of this wonderful holiday.

***

The sunshine which enhanced Jenny's first view of Torquay bathed the entire country.

At Thrush Green, early roses graced the window sills of Miss Fogerty's classroom. Mr Jones's geraniums burst into exuberant bloom, and the sound of the lawn mower was heard in the land.

The meadow leading to Lulling Woods was ablaze with buttercups. Daisies starred Thrush Green itself, and mothers watched their toddlers clutching bunches in their fat hands. The wooden seats were warm to sit upon, and young and old, eyes closed against the dazzling light, dreamt and dozed in perfect bliss.

Even Albert Piggott appeared less malevolent and, bill hook in hand to show that he was mindful of his duties, sunned himself upon a flat tombstone by the churchyard wall.

Along the lane to Nod and Nidden the cow parsley frothed and shed its lacy flowers in the breeze. Dotty Harmer admired its fragile beauty as she took Flossie for her afternoon walk. To tell the truth, the spaniel would have much preferred to spend the afternoon lying in the plum tree's shade in Dotty's garden but, obliging as ever, accompanied her beloved mistress with every appearance of pleasure. She was grateful to her owner, and had not forgotten how she had been rescued by her and given such a loving home. What if the melting tar did squeeze between her claws in this unpleasant way? It was a small price to pay for the pleasure of sharing a walk with Dotty and making her happy.

The elder flowers were beginning to open, turning their creamy faces to the sun, and Dotty turned her mind to making elder-flower champgne if only she could remember where she put the recipe. Behind the kitchen clock? In the Coalport vegetable dish? In mother's secretaire? She would have a good look round when she returned home.

She came within sight of Thrush Green, shimmering in the heat. Perhaps it would be a good idea to call at Ella's. The recipe had come from her in the first place.

She crossed the green, a scraggy shabby figure topped by a frayed coolie straw hat, the object of mirth to two young mothers lolling on one of the seats. Flossie panted obediently behind her.

Ella was in her garden, sitting in a deck chair. Across her lap was draped a small sack, and across that lay some strands of raffia in gaudy colours. A large needle threaded with a piece of scarlet raffia was in Ella's hand, but it was not being used.

Ella was asleep, her mouth ajar, her head lodged sideways. Dotty surveyed her for a few moments, trying to decide if she should tiptoe away. However, the recipe was needed immediately if she wanted to pick really fresh elder flowers.

She coughed discreetly, and Ella awoke.

'Golly!' exclaimed Ella, reverting in her bemused state to the ejaculations of her childhood. 'You made me jump!'

I'm sorry about that, but the front door was wide open, so I just came through.'

'And quite right too,' said Ella. Pull up that other chair and relax. What weather! That's why I opened the front door. You get a nice breeze right through the house that way, though I don't suppose the police would approve.'

'Was that young officer a good speaker? I couldn't come to the W.I. last Wednesday. One of the hens was indisposed, and I felt I should be at hand, you know.'

Quite,' said Ella, envisaging Dotty crouched in the hen run holding a flaccid claw in her own skinny hand. 'How is she now?'

'Oh, quite recovered, thank you. I was sorry to miss the talk. About safety precautions, wasn't it? Not that I ever think of locking the house, though I suppose one should.'

He seemed to think that
opening
the door to strangers was even worse.'

'But why? After all, one is obliged to open the door to see if they really are strangers.'

'Evidently, they are inclined to knock you on the head,' replied Ella, 'and then take anything of value before you come round.'

'How very unpleasant! I can't say I get many strangers, do you?'

'The odd tramp now and again. I always fill their billycans with hot water as requested, and give 'em a slice of bread and cheese.'

'I must admit that I do too. My father was quite outspoken about tramps, and said some very
wounding
things to them, I thought. You know, about Satan finding mischief for idle hands to do, and able-bodied men always being able to find work if they really looked for it. They seldom called twice.'

'I must say, I try to protect myself from an inundation of tramps by warning them not to leave any of their cryptic signs on the gate post.'

'Do they do that?'

'So I'm told. You know - a circle means: "Here's a soft touch," or a cross means: "Look out! The old cat chucks water over you!" Something of the sort.'

'I must look out for those things. By the way, Ella, what are you making with that sack?'

Ella held up her handiwork.

'Peg bags. Always sell well at sales of work, and the raffia brightens them up, doesn't it?'

'Yes, indeed,' agreed Dotty doubtfully. 'But won't the colours run if the bag gets wet?'

'Why should it get wet?' protested Ella. 'You don't leave your peg bag out in the rain, do you?'

'Yes,' said Dotty.

Dotty would, thought Ella.

'But as it's a good stout bag made out of father's old Burberry years ago, it doesn't come to any harm, you see.'

Here Flossie, who had taken advantage of some shade under a lilac bush, yawned noisily and thumped her tail upon some defenceless forget-me-nots.

Dotty took the hint.

'Time we were off, Ella dear.'

'Won't you stay to tea?'

'No, thank you. Dulcie must be picketed elsewhere for the rest of the day. She's eating voraciously now she's pregnant, and I thought a short spell by the hazel bushes would enliven her diet. Goats really do appreciate variety. That's why I never get cross when I find that the dear thing has pulled something
off
the line for a snack. She's obviously short of some particular mineral or vitamin.'

Flossie struggled to her feet and lumbered over to her mistress.

'She feels the heat,' commented Ella, charitably ignoring the havoc caused by the spaniel's progress through the flower bed.

'Perfect weather,' she went on, 'to be on holiday. It will do Winnie and Jenny a power of good by the sea.'

Ella accompanied Dotty through the cool hall and out into the blaze of Thrush Green. She watched her old friend cross the grass and turn into the walled lane of golden Cotswold stone on her way to Lulling Woods and the most pampered goat in the locality. It was not until next morning that Dotty realised she had forgotten to ask for the recipe.

At Torquay, the Sunday tea party was a great success, and Winnie departed for home on the Monday morning feeling relieved that Jenny had such good friends in the neighbourhood.

Bessie and Harry lived over the shop, not far from the harbour, and from their upstairs sitting room there was a view of the sea which delighted Jenny.

She was invited to lunch on the Tuesday, and when Harry had returned to his duties below, the two old friends settled down to compare the course of their lives since leaving the orphanage.

They sat comfortably on a little balcony overlooking the steep street and the distant sea, their feet lodged in the decorative ironwork and their heads in the shade of the canopy above them.

Jenny sighed contentedly.

'Who'd have thought we should find ourselves so comfortable when we were at the orphanage?'

'We've both been lucky,' agreed Bessie. 'And Harry's the perfect husband. I wonder you didn't marry, Jenny. You were always a pretty girl.'

'Never had much chance,' replied Jenny. 'Ma and Pa took up all my time. Not that I grudged it, mark you. They was good to me, and I was glad to pay 'em back, but I didn't get out and about much.'

'But now they're gone,' persisted Bessie. 'Don't you ever think of it?'

In the silence that followed only the distant sea gulls cried. Jenny wondered if she should unburden herself to her old friend, and perhaps get her advice. On the other hand, her natural shyness made her reluctant.

But the sun warmed her legs. The sea air was exhilarating. Thrush Green and its gossipers were far away, and for once Jenny threw aside her caution.

'Well, as a matter of fact, Bessie, there is someone at the moment,' she confessed, and the tale of Percy's attentions, her own embarrassment and uncertainty, Winnie Bailey's kindness and her needs, all came tumbling out.

Bessie, eyes closed against the brilliance of the afternoon, listened attentively. In common with the rest of mankind, Bessie loved a story, and here was a romantic drama of real life—its heroine lying close beside her and, better still, asking for her advice.

'So there it is,' finished Jenny, feeling mightily relieved after such an outpouring, 'and I hope I'll know what to do by the time I get back. It's my belief Mrs Bailey got me away to give me a chance to sort out my feelings rather than improve my health.'

'It's a bit difficult to know where one ends and the other begins,' said Bessie sagaciously. 'I had stye after stye on my eyelids when Harry was courting me, but as soon as I said "Yes" they vanished.'

'But what do you think? He's such a good chap and he does miss his Gertie terribly. She was a wonderful manager, and the best cook in Thrush Green some said. He's lost without her, and his clothes are gettng something dreadful - buttons off, cuffs frayed—you know how men get their things.'

Bessie sat forward and propped her chin on her fist. She gazed out to sea as she spoke slowly.

'It's like this, Jenny. I don't doubt he's in need of a wife, and I don't doubt he'll find one pretty soon, if he's the nice fellow you say. But it's
you
I'm thinking of. Do
you
want to live with this Percy for the rest of your days? Do
you
want to give up the life you've just found simply because Percy's clothes need mending? You've always been unselfish. I can remember that from when we were little kids, and you've spent all your time till now looking after Ma and Pa. I don't say Percy wouldn't be grateful, and would treat you right. I'm sure he would. But is it what you want?'

'If you put it like that,' said Jenny, 'I suppose I should never have thought of Percy in that way, if he hadn't come - well, I suppose you could say -
courting.
'

'I'll tell you something else, Jenny, which always helped me when I was trying to decide about a man. I was no flibbertigibbet, mind you, but I did have quite a few lads in my time, before I met Harry, and I used to say to myself when they started to get serious: 'Now, would it break my heart to see him with someone else?' And, d'you know, half the time I used to think it would be a relief if they
did
find someone! Then I knew my own feelings!'

Jenny laughed.

'What a sensible way of looking at it! I can't tell you how you've helped, Bessie, and I think I'll know my own mind before I go back to Thrush Green. It's just that I hate to think of Percy being hurt.'