A Village in Jeopardy (Turnham Malpas 16) (22 page)

‘Don’t worry, it’s not often you miss.’

Beth paused at the kitchen door. ‘You know, don’t you, I only go for your sake, not because I want to. It’s always been like that. Going for your sake, so’s not to let you down. The time will come, perhaps, when I won’t go at all.’

Beth left behind a stunned silence.

Upstairs under her duvet, she deeply regretted what she’d said. If only she’d kept that bit about church to herself. But her dad preferred the truth and the truth was what he’d got. She had to stand up and be counted as her own person and somehow this felt the moment to do it. They wouldn’t like how she felt about Jake . . . how
did
she feel about Jake? Beth pulled the duvet right over her head just as she’d done when she was small and had been naughty, and stared hard at the milky whiteness of her duvet cover. Jake’s face joined her, then her Dad’s sad face superseded it and she felt bad telling him how she viewed the entire purpose of his life. She should never have said what she said. It could have been her secret for years once she’d left home.

Downstairs she could hear Mum clearing the table and Dad shutting his study door with a bang. But she meant it. She had to make a stand about her life; after all, it was her life and no one else’s and she had a right to lead her life as she wanted. If they didn’t like Jake, well, too bad, she did. She recollected the kiss that missed her mouth and landed on her hair, and rejoiced.

They both left for church together and didn’t even call upstairs to say they were leaving. Beth felt abandoned, neglected, left out of things. But wasn’t this how she wanted it? To be independent, not included? Doing her own thing? Even so she felt uneasy. After last night she’d thought her life would flow with unadulterated delight, but already she felt both miserable and elated all mixed up together. Blast it. She struggled out hot and sweaty from under the duvet and sat up. Out of the window she saw the view she loved best in the world; at least that view was still hers. Thing was her parents were the one reliable stable factor in her life. Whatever she did they’d still love her, whereas Jake could be calling round at that awful Janey’s in Penny Fawcett right this minute. But she stopped there, because she somehow sensed that he wouldn’t, not any more. Jake had changed. And so had she. Beth sprang out of bed determined to make amends for her forthrightness earlier. She showered and dressed, then went down to begin putting the Sunday lunch together, at the back of her mind shaping an apology to Dad as she worked.

During a lull in the preparations she checked her mobile and found Jake had already left a message for her
. Going back to Cambridge tonight. Want to see you before I go – the George? Pick you up from Rectory at 3?

Her reply simply said,
Three o’clock at the George. Beth
. So it said nothing at all about her pounding heart or the excitement of reading his almost too casual invitation. Didn’t mention how her eyes lit up, nor how she was already planning what to wear. Nor her dilemma; she had planned to spend the afternoon making amends to her mum and dad, but that was out of the window now. There was no way she was missing out on this invitation. She did wonder about ringing Rosie to thank her for the party last night and at the same time mentioning about seeing Jake this afternoon.

She changed her mind three times before she rang Rosie, finally deciding not to mention her afternoon tea with the so-called gorgeous Jake Harding. No point in upsetting people unnecessarily; it wouldn’t be fair. But Rosie sounded thoroughly out of sorts about the party and accused Beth of telling fibs – well, she called it lies – about Jake. ‘You obviously knew him rather well, seeing as you spent the entire evening with him. Do you?’

‘I met him about two years ago, but since then I haven’t seen him.’

‘You must have; he’s at Cambridge too, you know.’

‘I never met him there and was amazed to find he hadn’t gone to London after all. I’m sorry, Rosie, it wasn’t intentional.’

‘Anyway I’m in serious bother this morning for that entertainer.’

‘Well, he was a bit dodgy.’

‘Dodgy? He was downright vulgar. I’d no idea – he’d been recommended by a friend. Just shows how useless one’s supposed friends can be.’

From the tone of Rosie’s voice Beth knew she was included in
one’s supposed friends
and she felt guilty for keeping Jake to herself at the party. But it was too late now. They finished their conversation with Beth promising to go out with her one evening after work, which was definitely not what she wanted.

The front door opened and her mother walked in.

‘Hi! OK?’ But Beth got no reply. ‘Mum?’

‘How could you? Mmm? Your own dad. You’ve a right to your own opinions but . . . you’ve really upset him. Everything he stands for just thrown in the bin in a couple of sentences.’

‘I didn’t think.’

‘That’s pretty obvious, Beth. I’ve never heard you speak in that way before. What’s happened to you?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Has Jake been talking like that to you about him?’

‘No, he most definitely hasn’t; he has the greatest respect for Dad, has Jake. Honestly. He’s even a bit scared of him.’

‘Good, I’m glad to hear it.’

‘It’s Dad’s absolute honesty that alarms him.’

‘Oh! I see. However, when your dad gets back, and he won’t be long, you’d better explain yourself. Above all be truthful; he’ll know if you’re insincere.’

Caroline walked into the kitchen and realised that Beth had done the Sunday lunch. She sighed. ‘Thank you for this. That’s lovely. But it doesn’t square things with your dad, you know. Although it does help, I suppose.’

Peter came home and went straight to his study. They were used to that as he nearly always had notes to make about things he needed to attend to first thing on Monday morning. Beth gave him five minutes and then knocked on his door and put her head round it, saying, ‘It’s me, Dad. Will you talk to me? Please.’

He was seated at his desk writing and nodded his agreement. Beth went to sit on the big squashy sofa, a recipient of many long tales of woe uttered by his parishioners, which had once caused Beth to call the sofa
the village confessional
. She hadn’t the faintest idea of how she was going to put things right between them. But she had to.

He put the top back on his pen, closed his parish diary and sat back. After an awkward silence, when it was clear Beth didn’t know what to say, he gave her one of his lovely compassionate smiles and she stood up filled with love for his generous forgiveness and rushed to sit on his knee. So with her arms round his neck and her cheek against his, just like she used to do as a little girl, she apologised.

‘I’m so sorry, Dad. What I said was unforgivable. I meant it when I said it, but not any more. Not now. You are the loveliest dad anyone could hope to have and I’m glad I’m yours. I wouldn’t want anyone else at all for my dad.’

He kissed her forehead and then said, ‘Let’s forget it, shall we?’

Beth nodded.

‘Do you still feel like that? That my life is a waste?’

‘No, I don’t. It’s not a waste. Not when you can smile like that at me despite the grievous harm I caused you. That in its own way is power. Jake’s frightened of you.’

‘In that case then—’

‘He’s changed, you know. He’s got standards and I’m one of them.’

‘Has he indeed.’ He looked at her and at such close quarters she saw the sadness in his eyes.

‘You’re sad. I thought we’d made up.’

‘We have, but when you talk about Jake there’s a light in your eyes I haven’t seen before and I reckon you’ve grown up since this time yesterday.’

‘But I have to grow up. I can’t be a child for ever, can I?’ She got up from his knee and stood beside him. ‘You don’t need to worry about Jake; he’s changed. Before, when I knew him, the girls all thought him gorgeous and he knew it and took advantage of them if he chose to, but not now. In fact, to be honest he’s asked me for afternoon tea today at the George before he goes back to Cambridge, and there’s nothing more reliable than that, is there?’

Peter laughed. ‘That sounds very reliable. Keep your feet well grounded, my darling. Take things slowly. Right. I have some reading to do. Give me a shout when lunch is ready.’

But when Beth turned back at the door to thank him for his understanding he wasn’t reading. He was praying.

They began serving afternoon tea at three thirty and it annoyed Jake that he’d got the wrong time. Beth couldn’t bear for him to be upset. ‘Don’t worry, we can go look at the river while we wait.’ So they wandered out onto the terrace. ‘I think this is my second-favourite view. Isn’t it lovely?’

‘What’s your favourite view then?’

‘The view from my bedroom window at home. In the winter I can just see the big house through the trees but once the leaves are out I can’t. The owner’s trying to sell it, you know.’

‘Why?’

‘Because his construction business has collapsed and he has to sell. Do you know Freedom Blade?’

‘Yes. He’s not wanting to buy it, is he?’

Beth nodded.

‘Surely he won’t sell it to him?’

‘We all hope not, but Mr Fitch is desperate. The whole problem is making him ill. My dad’s very concerned about him.’

‘Oh! Right. This place wouldn’t be my first choice, but there’s nowhere else to go in Culworth on Sundays. I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t worry, you’ve gone up in my dad’s estimation, bringing me here.’

‘He knows, then? You’ve come out with me.’

‘Yes.’

‘And he didn’t object?’

‘No.’

Jake leaned his hands on top of the wall and studied the swans now rushing towards them hoping to be fed. ‘You’re so lucky having a family that cares. I just have Dad and no brothers or sisters and no mother. Well, I have but she’s a waste of space. She should never have had even one child.’

Beth didn’t know how to reply. ‘I can’t begin to imagine how that feels. I’ve been cared about all my life.’

They stood silently, side by side, watching the swans until Jake said, ‘And it shows. Right, let’s claim a table.’

He took her elbow and guided her to a table. He ordered afternoon tea and charmed the waitress, and charmed Beth too, entertaining her as they ate with tales about his tutors and the friends he’d made. ‘Next September will you please go back to Cambridge?’

‘I don’t know about that.’

‘I am. It’s what you should do, Beth.’

‘I was thinking of not going back and staying here and helping Gilbert. I’m so much happier doing that.’

‘Beth, believe me, for someone like you that will not be fulfilling for ever; you need more than that. Alex will still be there. In ten years’ time you would be full of regrets for not having taken up your place again.’ Jake glanced at his watch. ‘I should go.’

He stood up, caught the waitress’s attention, paid the bill, helped Beth to put on her coat and set off with Beth trailing along behind him still buttoning it.

Out in the car park he settled her in his car and drove in silence far too fast to Turnham Malpas. They sat outside the Rectory, not knowing what to say.

Jake abruptly declared, ‘Remember what I said about going back. See you at Christmas.’ He then whipped round the back of the car, opened her door for her and then stood beside her while she put her key in the lock. ‘Kiss? Till I see you at Christmas?’

‘Yes, I thought maybe—’

He kissed her very gently and this time managed to kiss her lips.

‘Jake, thanks for the tea. I—’

But Jake had gone, roaring out of the village like someone possessed. Beth closed the door behind her and went straight upstairs to her room to think about her curious afternoon and to make sense of him.

Chapter 17

The village was entirely unaware of the financial affairs of Johnny Templeton. They’d realised he was wealthy but never guessed a young man like him would be rich enough to buy the estate outright. But it would be nice – he was such a lovely man – with him up at the big house. Things would be
right
, yes, very right. Only Mr Fitch knew that he was able to buy the whole estate and all Johnny needed was a nod from him to put the wheels in motion. Whether Mr Fitch fully understood how much money he had available or indeed his passionate need for buying the estate, Johnny had no idea.

But on the Monday morning after Jake had gone back to Cambridge, Johnny rang up the big house and asked to see Mr Fitch. ‘It’s imperative I see him.’

His secretary, Anne, still hanging on to a job she loved and also out of sympathy for Mr Fitch, whom she’d grown to like, answered him by saying, ‘Hold the line a moment, Sir Johnny, I’ll ask.’

Mr Fitch’s answer was a begrudging, ‘Very well, then.’ Which Anne translated into ‘He’d be delighted to see you. Are you coming right now?’

‘I’ll walk up.’

‘Good! I’ll get the coffee on.’

For some reason Johnny had not heard about the impending sale of the estate to Freedom Blade. Somehow he’d been out of the loop of village gossip, mainly because Alice had not been well – nothing specific, but the pregnancy was taking its toll on her vitality and Johnny was endeavouring to ease her burden of driving here and there to give piano lessons by driving himself and then sitting listening to the radio while she did the teaching in people’s houses. He’d discussed with her several times about taking life easier, but she would not listen. ‘I have rates to pay, food to buy, car insurance due, road fund tax due; I have to have money, Johnny.’