(9/13)The School at Thrush Green (27 page)

Dorothy and Agnes knew exactly what was going on for a number of children had informed them of the proposed tributes, adding for good measure, the sum which they themselves had contributed to the general largesse. It was a good thing that Miss Robinson, in her innocence, knew nothing of this.

It was a happy party, and the children did their duties admirably. Dorothy and Agnes expressed their surprised delight, and thanked everyone - particularly Miss Robinson - for such beautiful flowers and delicious chocolates.

There were no other speeches, but Dorothy informed the throng that cups of tea were available in Miss Fogerty's terrapin, as Mrs Betty Bell and Mrs Isobel Shoosmith had kindly arranged this. At this juncture, Agnes whispered in her ear, and she added that the Thrush Green Women's Institute had most kindly lent their cups and saucers, and this courtesy was very much appreciated.

In the mêlée that followed, she and Agnes mingled with the guests, accepting good wishes and sometimes a personal present, and it was past four o'clock before the school emptied and the two ladies bore their tributes to the school house. The flowers were deposited in a bucket of water to await later arrangement, and the friends sank thankfully into their armchairs.

'It all went beautifully, didn't it? Do you know,' confessed Dorothy, i wondered if I should find this parting too much for me. But it was such a jolly afternoon, wasn't it? I shall telephone Miss Robinson this evening to thank her particularly. I think she's going to be a tower of strength to the new head.'

Agnes agreed, still amazed that Dorothy should admit to the frailties from which she herself suffered. Somehow it made the bond between them even stronger. She too had dreaded the last afternoon, and had been relieved to find it a wholly cheerful occasion.

'And of course,' continued Dorothy, 'we shan't really be saying goodbye for some time yet. It's a comforting thought.'

'Anyway,' added Agnes, 'we can always come back to visit Thrush Green from Barton.'

Dorothy began to tear away the cellophane from her box of chocolates.

'I don't see why we shouldn't celebrate, Agnes. The square ones are hard, I warn you.'

Nelly Piggott had kept her word and accompanied Gladys Lilly to Lulling police station with the postcard from the errant Doreen.

'Well, thanks very much,' said the sergeant on duty. 'You did right to bring this in, Mrs Lilly. I'll pass it on to the officer in charge of the enquiries. Might be a Vital Clue.'

The ladies departed feeling much comforted by this encounter, and Gladys was already making plans to welcome her daughter and grandchild to her home again.

Nelly was not so sanguine, but said little about her doubts to the hopeful mother.

However, later that day she met her good friend Mrs Jenner who was walking across the green to see her daughter Jane, the warden at Rectory Cottages.

To her, she admitted her reservations about bringing the culprit to justice, and Mrs Jenner nodded her head in agreement.

'If you ask me,' said that lady, 'poor Gladys won't see her Doreen, nor Gordon and the boy, for a very long time. And the Lovelock ladies won't ever set eyes on their missing silver either.'

And Mrs Jenner was quite right.

It had been Dorothy's idea that they should spend a few days at Barton, staying at their favourite guesthouse, as soon as they broke up.

'Now that the business side is settled,' said Dorothy, 'we can chivvy the electrician and decorator if we are down there.'

Dorothy, thought Agnes, seemed to think that her presence would hasten the completion of the work in hand, and maybe she was right. In any case, Agnes looked forward to a few days by the sea, and to visiting the new house again.

They set off on the Saturday morning, planning to stop for a pub lunch near Andover. Isobel had been given minute instructions about the feeding and general care of Tim the cat.

'It's such a relief to know that you are looking after him,' said Agnes. 'He half-knows you already, and he won't be scared away if he sees you about. I'm so anxious that he keeps up the habit of sleeping indoors, and gets thoroughly used to the cat flap.'

Isobel assured her that she would undertake her duties with every care, secretly rather amused at Agnes's earnestness.

'Good thing,' was Harold's comment, when she related this matter to him. 'All the devotion she's put into looking after scores of infants is going to be funnelled into that lucky cat's welfare. I hope the animal knows when it's well off!'

One of the first things that Agnes wanted to see to was the installation of a similar cat flap at the Barton house. Dorothy was more concerned with measuring for carpets and curtains. As always, it seemed, not one pair of the latter could be transferred to Barton, a common disappointment to all who move house.

They arrived at the guesthouse soon after two, and then set out on foot to visit their new home. As it was a Saturday, no one was at work there, and the house was very still. Their footsteps echoed on the bare boards as they went from room to room.

The biggest job to be done was the rewiring of the whole place, and as this was a messy job, involving cutting channels in the walls, Dorothy had decided that the decorating might just as well follow this upheaval.

'One thing I have insisted on,' said Dorothy, surveying the work, 'is that the plugs should be half-way up the wall. I don't see why we should grovel about bent double to find switches on the skirting board. They can site them just behind the curtains. Perfectly simple when you think about it.'

Agnes, mindful of her arthritis, applauded this sensible suggestion.

'And we'll have a telephone extension beside each bed,' went on Dorothy, 'and good rails by the bath. I'm afraid we shall have to replace the present bath sometime. It's got badly stained. But we will have time to choose something really pretty.'

They wandered into the garden, but rain began to fall, and they left the few late roses and clematis, the tussocky lawn and weedy borders, and returned to the shelter of the house.

'What a pity we didn't bring a couple of deckchairs with us,' said Agnes. 'I could do with a rest.'

Dorothy surveyed the empty kitchen.

'Nothing simpler,' she announced. She went to the kitchen sink, and pulled out two of the drawers below it. Turning them over, she put them near the wall. 'Try that, my dear,' she said, with understandable pride.

Agnes lowered herself cautiously and rested her back against the wall. Dorothy sat on the other upturned drawer beside her. There was a protesting squeak from the wood, but the temporary seating held well.

'How very clever!' commented Agnes.

The two friends sat side by side, legs stretched out above the dusty kitchen floor, and saw in their minds' eye a fully-furnished, warm and comfortable haven.

To Agnes suddenly came comfort. Her thoughts had been sad ones when she had had time to consider them. She hated change, and her natural timidity made her apprehensive of the unknown. She grieved at leaving her friends, her home and the loved surroundings of Thrush Green.

But, for the first time, sitting inelegantly on the kitchen floor, she began to look ahead with stirring excitement. This was going to be her home! Here she would have the company of Dorothy and dear little Tim. There would be new friends in her life, new interests, new countryside to explore.

'And we can always go back,' she said, thinking aloud.

Dorothy seemed to know what was in her mind.

'Of course we can,' she said cheerfully, 'and the Thrush Green people will come and see us here. We're certainly not losing friends by this move, Agnes, but simply finding a lot of new ones.'

Agnes sighed happily. Dorothy consulted her watch.

'Well, I think we should be getting back. If you could manage to stand up first, I should appreciate what the children used to term "a good lug-up".'

And little Miss Fogerty, much refreshed in body and spirit, obliged.

Back at Thrush Green, the future of the two ladies was a prime point of conversation, and the fate of the school house one of pleasurable speculation.

Betty Bell told the Shoosmiths that she had received an official letter asking her to continue to look after the school until further notice.

'And that's a real relief, I can tell you,' she informed Isobel and Harold, i mean the money's regular, which is more than you can say about some.'

She must have noticed the bewilderment on her hearers' faces for she added hastily, 'Not but what you do pay me pronto - always ready done up in a clean envelope as soon as the work's done. But poor old Dotty - Miss Harmer, I should say - she don't know if she's coming or going, and sometimes it's weeks before she remembers.'

'But, Betty,' protested [sobel, much shocked by this disclosure, 'surely Mrs Armitage sees to that?'

'Well, no. You see, Dotty wanted to do it, and of course Mrs Armitage thinks she does, but she don't, if you follow me.'

'Then you must mention it to her,' advised Isobel, mentally making a note to do it herself as well. 'Things can't go on like that.'

'Lor' bless you,' laughed Betty, 'they've been going on like that for years down Dotty's!'

Albert Piggott was doing his best to persuade Mr Jones of The Two Pheasants that he should put in a bid for the school house and turn it into a small hotel.

'And where would I get the cash for that?' appealed the landlord. 'Don't get very fat on your and Percy's half-pints of bitter, I can tell you.'

Even Ella Bembridge, across the green, flirted with the idea of changing her residence for one short afternoon.

Dimity was horrified. 'You aren't serious? You've been quite happy in the cottage, haven't you?'

'Well, yes, of course I have,' replied Ella, blowing a cloud of acrid cigarette smoke towards the ceiling. 'But it would make a change. Besides there are twice the number of cupboards over there, and mine are uncomfortably full.'

'Then have a good clear-out for the next Jumble Sale,' advised Dimity, 'and go on enjoying this place.' The folk at Rectory Cottages were perhaps the most keenly interested in the future of the school house. One school of thought was positive that it would be razed to the ground, and eight or ten houses would be built on the site. Tom Hardy maintained that it would be turned into offices, and Muriel Fuller surmised that the education authority would incorporate it into the school itself, possibly as a store and school kitchen.

'Well, at least,' said Winnie Bailey, summing up the general feeling, 'that's all in the future. We shall have Agnes and Dorothy with us for some time yet, thank heaven.'

The two schoolmistresses returned from their break feeling that much had been accomplished. Dorothy had enjoyed urging the electrician and decorator to brisker efforts, and had purchased some particularly attractive cretonne, at sale prices, for curtains and chair covers.

Agnes had given a local handyman minute instructions about the cat flap. They had attended the local church and met the vicar of whom they both approved. The postmistress seemed welcoming and helpful, and the owner of the guest-house had recommended a jobbing gardener. All in all, the ladies were well content.

They were now in a relaxed enough frame of mind to enjoy the spate of informal invitations which came along from old friends and well-wishers. It was a joy to be free during the day to accept coffee in the morning with Ella and Dimity, or afternoon tea with Isobel and Harold next door. With no worries about the term ahead to daunt them, life took on a wonderfully relaxed air, and Agnes and Dorothy blossomed in these first early days of their retirement.

The cat, by this time, now kept them company, though always showing a preference for Agnes, rubbing round her legs, purring loudly, and even jumping on to her meagre lap, much to her delight. Dorothy was large-hearted enough to approve, and only hoped that she too, in time, would be so honoured.

The relaxation of her responsibilities seemed to mellow Dorothy. She even offered the school house curtains and carpets to Ray and Kathleen, when they moved to Barton, and for good measure threw in the nest of coffee tables, much coveted by her sister-in-law, as there was really nowhere to put them in the new house.

'I only hope,' said Isobel to Harold, 'that this general goodwill prevails. They are so happy at the moment. I wonder if they will start having pangs when term begins? I wouldn't put it past Dorothy to drop in on the new head to tell him where he is going wrong.'

'Never fear,' said her husband. 'The sound of infant voices raised in battle in the playground will simply bring home to them how marvellous it is not to have to cope. Anyone with any sense welcomes retirement, and those two have plenty of that between them.'

And time proved that Harold Shoosmith was right.

Term began at the end of August, and the two ladies were far too engrossed by then in plans for the move to take much interest in the activity so close to them.

But they did invite the three staff to tea during the first week of term and were much impressed by the good sense and deference of the new headmaster. He was a pastmaster in diplomacy, and congratulated Dorothy on the ship-shape way everything had been left, and the ex-headmistress beamed with pleasure.

As always the jobs at the Barton house took twice as long as estimated, and two days after term began Dorothy issued her ultimatum.

'We shall be moving in,' she told the estate agent, the electrician, the plumber and the decorator, 'in a fortnight's time. The removal men have been engaged this end, and we expect to be in and settled before nightfall on Tuesday, September the sixteenth.'

All protestations, explanations and excuses were swept aside, and Agnes, yet again, was filled with awe and admiration at Dorothy's command of the situation.

Promptly at eight-thirty the removal van arrived and loading began.

In between supervising the bestowal of their household belongings, Dorothy prepared a substantial picnic lunch, and Agnes superintended the arrangements of Tim's travelling basket.

The greatest worry, of course, was the strong possibility that he would keep well away from all the unaccustomed activity, and Agnes had opened a tin of sardines as a particular bribe.