Read The New Rector (Tales from Turnham Malpas) Online
Authors: Rebecca Shaw
The New Rector (Tales from Turnham Malpas) (23 page)
Peter and Caroline were both there when she walked in. They greeted her and then she walked over to the cots. The shock she received as she leant over Alexander’s obliterated her own anxieties, for there, nestled in a hospital shawl, lay an exact replica of Peter. Fond parents go on about how like their father or their mother a baby is, yet no one else can
detect much likeness at all. But there was no doubt here. She stood touching his tiny clenched fist and stroking his bright hair whilst she composed herself.
‘Why, he’s beautiful! So perfect.’
‘And this is Elizabeth.’
Muriel bent over the second cot and saw a tiny, perfectly angelic-looking baby sucking her thumb. Her mass of blonde hair and her fair peaches and cream complexion made a beautiful picture and Muriel loved her from that moment. Had Caroline realised how like Peter Alexander was? Muriel raised her eyes from the two cots and looked straight at Caroline. Their eyes met and without speaking Muriel knew she was right. Caroline dropped her gaze to the cots and said, ‘Aren’t we lucky, Muriel, to have been given these two babies? A family all at one go.’
‘Indeed you are. Congratulations.’ Muriel kissed Caroline and then turned to Peter.
‘Congratulations, Peter. These two children couldn’t have hoped for better parents.’ She reached up and kissed him. ‘If you don’t mind, I should like to get home now. Any time you need a babysitter, just ask me, I shall be delighted. I don’t feel up to seeing Suzy yet, but she does need support so you won’t forget her, will you?’
‘No, of course not. Thank you.’ Caroline patted her arm and saw her out of the nursery.
When she’d gone Peter and Caroline stood holding hands looking down at their children.
‘Mr Harris, I think that Suzy’s parish priest should go to see her. It’s only right.’
Peter took his hand from Caroline’s and said, ‘Yes, of course. Are you coming with me?’
‘No.’
Peter knocked on the door of Suzy’s private room. She’d
been put in there in preference to the general ward. Sister had insisted on that in the circumstances.
‘Come in.’
He felt as if his entrails were being burned before his very eyes; he deserved it too.
‘Good morning, Suzy. May I come in for a minute?’
‘Of course, Peter, find yourself a chair. If you’ve come to tell me how grateful you are, and what a heel you feel, and is this really what I want, because you would quite understand and so would Caroline if I changed my mind, don’t bother.’
‘I won’t, then.’
‘Good. What I don’t need is sympathy. I intended being out of here tonight but I’ve got a slight infection and Sister refuses to let me go home. Well, I’m not going home, I’m going to Mother’s – and I never want to hear the words Turnham Malpas ever again. It has been a disaster for me from the word go. Is Muriel all right?’
‘Yes. She’s just been to see— She left hospital this morning.’
‘Poor Muriel. I would love to know whether or not she marries Ralph, but that’s something I shall have to speculate on because I never want to hear another thing about the village.’
‘I can understand you wanting to sever your ties. How are you of yourself?’
‘Better than can be expected, in the circumstances. Take hold of my hand. Don’t worry, I’m not going to go all sugary and weepy. Peter, I won’t be putting Patrick’s name on the birth certificate – that wouldn’t be right. I’m putting yours on, you are their father after all. When they are old enough you will be truthful to them, won’t you? Don’t deceive them. Children can’t cope with parents who lie,
they see it as a betrayal. Will you give me your blessing and then go?’
‘Of course.’ Peter stood with his head bowed for a moment. ‘Dear Father God, bless this precious child of Yours, standing at the crossroads of her life. Take her into Your loving care and watch over her in the task she has set herself. Bless her little girls, Daisy, Pansy and Rosie, ensure that they will be a joy to her throughout their lives. Bless her for her generosity of spirit, her courage, and her moral strength. Make Your face to shine upon her and give her Your peace. Amen. May God bless you, Suzy.’
‘Take care of them for me, won’t you? Go now while my eyes are shut.’
‘Thank you, Suzy, for your blessed gift.’
Peter bent over, kissed Suzy’s forehead and left.
The village bubbled with the news of Suzy’s twins going to the Rectory.
Pat Duckett treated Michael Palmer to one of her monologues the first morning he was back at school.
‘The rector and the doctor will be delighted. Only right, too. How could Suzy Meadows feed and clothe all them children? Very sensible. Funny her not coming back to empty her house, though. Still, what with Mr Meadows committing suicide and then the twins being born, ’spect you can understand. The twins might be home by Christmas, so I hear. Mighty busy Christmas Rector’ll have. Busiest he’s had for some time, I reckon. Dr Harris should know how to manage, I daresay. Plenty of offers for babysitting they’ll be having, mind. Alexander Peter and Elizabeth Caroline – nice names they are. Going to call ’em Alex and Beth, apparently. Old-fashioned, but nice. You glad to be back, Mr Palmer?’
‘I am indeed, Mrs Duckett. The school seems to have managed very nicely without me, though.’
‘Don’t you believe it. Oh, nothing’s gone wrong, it’s just that something was missing and it was you. That Mrs
Hardaker, hard by name and hard by nature she is. Told me off good and proper about the boys’ lavatories. I said, if you can kill that smell then you go right ahead and do it. I does my best, Mr Palmer, but that smell won’t go. I reckon the drains isn’t right. Shall we report it to the Office?’
‘I’ll check them out myself and see what I think. Isn’t it a lovely morning, Mrs Duckett? Nearly Christmas but quite mild still.’
‘Muriel Hipkin’s gone back to her house, yer know. Never thought she would. Thought she’d be living it up at Sir Ralph’s. He asked her but she put her foot down and said it wouldn’t be right. I ask yer, at their age. Makes yer laugh. They’re not likely to get up to anything, are they?’
‘I wouldn’t know, Mrs Duckett. I’ll go and tackle the boys’ lavatories, while you get done in here. The children, the best people of all, will be in soon.’
‘Don’t know about best people of all, they makes a lot of work.’
‘Children are the whole reason for the school’s existence. Remember that.’
He went off whistling to his appointed task. Life felt a great deal better than it had done for years. A whole load had lifted off his shoulders. Sad that it had taken Sharon’s death to do it, but there you were.
When he went to his house at lunch-time there was a letter on the mat. He didn’t recognise the handwriting, so when he slit it open he looked first at the signature. Marjorie Vickerman. Who on earth was she? He went back to the beginning of the letter and read,
‘
Dear Mr Palmer, I know you will wonder who this is writing to you, but I am Suzy Meadows’ mother. I feel very upset that Suzy wishes to cut all ties with the village. People have been extremely kind and helpful to her and you especially. She loved
being with you in the school because, as I am sure you realised, she is a born teacher. She is at home with me now and will be for some time. She is going to apply for teaching jobs shortly. Her address certainly for the next year will be 24, Little Orchards Lane, Beckhampton, Nr Gloucester, GL149PJ
.
‘
I can’t help but feel very sad that I shall never know what happens to her and Patrick’s twins and I would be so grateful if from time to time you could let me know. I am a loving grandmother, you see.
DON’T
write to Suzy, write to me at the address above. Many thanks for your kindness to her. Yours sincerely
.’
His heart skipped and danced. He was glad he’d not lost contact with her. She must be heartbroken, giving her babies away like that. Poor girl. He could see in his mind’s eye her charming round face and her long silvery-blonde hair. She was small in stature but big in personality and in heart. They’d had some good talks when she’d been leading the playgroup. Real communication, not simply talk.
After lunch he was launching himself into football practice when he saw Betty McDonald coming through the school gate. Oh no, not just now, Betty.
‘Good afternoon, Mrs McDonald. Keep going, boys, I’ll be back. Come into my office, won’t you?’
He propped himself on the edge of the desk and waited for Betty to speak.
‘I’ve come to tell you our Scott will be leaving school soon. We’re moving. It won’t be for a month or two but move we must. Our Scott and Mac can’t stand it here any more so we’re off to make a fresh start. Thought I’d better let you know. Sorry you’ve had all this trouble. She was a bad girl, was our Sharon, and we didn’t help. But there we are, it’s too late now. Thank you, Mr Palmer, for all you’ve done.’
Betty stood up. Michael opened the office door for her and she went out. He watched her walk across the playground between the footballers, looking like someone who, as his mother would have said, had had the stuffing knocked out of her. The edifice she called hair was not so high, her shoulders were slumped and she’d definitely lost weight.
‘Right, where’s that goalie? Watch out then, here I come down the right wing. And here we go – and it’s a goal!’
‘Cor, Mr Palmer, that was a good ‘un!’
Muriel stood leaning on the school wall watching the boys. She applauded Michael’s goal and then carried on behind the chapel towards Turnham Beck.
Pericles scampered about as though he’d never been there before. He was ten now and still full of life. What a dear little friend he was. She must keep an eye on the time, Ralph was coming for her to go Christmas shopping in Culworth. Not that either he or she had much to shop for. She’d buy something for Suzy’s twins. Oh dear, she must stop thinking that.
Caroline’s
twins, and a nice gift for Peter and Caroline. How on earth had that strange situation come about? Suzy and Peter, and there stood Caroline knowing all about it. Muriel knew she knew, even though Caroline had said nothing. ‘If I know,’ Muriel mused, ‘how about everyone else? Surely they’ll notice?’ They were beautiful babies though, and Caroline had got her heart’s desire. So
had Peter, come to that.
Pericles needed a new basket. What on earth could she buy for Ralph? He had enough money to buy anything he wanted. ‘Only one hour to go and he’ll be here,’ she hummed to herself. ‘I can’t wait. He’s so lovely. Such good fun and so charming and well-mannered. I can hide behind his
savoir faire
wherever we go. He knows exactly what to do. I do wish I had better clothes, though. It isn’t that I don’t know what is good taste, it’s that I can’t afford it.’ She turned for home.
‘Come, Pericles. This way.’ Out of the bushes ran Lady Bissett’s Pomeranian. ‘Oh, hello, PomPom, where’s your master? That will do, Pericles, don’t be so silly. Calm down now, you’re upsetting PomPom. Oh, hello, Sir Ronald, lovely day, isn’t it?’
‘It is indeed. Not going away again, are you, Muriel?’
‘No, why?’
‘Well, your Pericles and our PomPom get on like a house on fire. When Pericles isn’t there, we’ve all on to get PomPom out of his basket, but when they’re together they race about all day long.’
‘Well, not for a while that I know of. I did appreciate you having Pericles for me when I went to Rome; it was a relief to know he didn’t have to go into kennels. Any time you and Lady Bissett want to go away I would gladly have PomPom for you.’
‘Thank you very much. I keep hoping you might be going away on a honeymoon.’
Muriel blushed. ‘I really don’t think so. Were quite simply old friends from the past – there’s nothing like that in it.’
‘If he asks you, you accept. What’s the point of not taking hold of life and getting on with it? You can be too retiring
and then spend your last years regretting it. Don’t let opportunities pass you by, remember that.’
He raised his tweed hat to her as they parted. How dare that man advise her what to do!
Ralph arrived on the dot, eager to be off. Muriel put on her new winter coat, well, it was three years old but it was her newest. The Mercedes had been polished to within an inch of its life and Ralph looked particularly sparkling. They drove to Culworth and started their shopping by having an early lunch.
Ralph had kissed her in the car before they set off. He kissed her when they parked in the multi-storey car park and held her arm tightly as they crossed the road. Muriel’s heart began doing head-over-heels. She felt most odd.
He’d emptied the last drops from their bottle of wine when he said: ‘Muriel, I have something special I want to say. You don’t have to answer me now if you don’t want to, but please give it your utmost consideration.’
She mopped her mouth with her napkin and paid attention.
‘I want to know if you would like to visit Australia with me.’
‘Australia?’
‘Yes, but not as my companion, like when we went to Rome. As my wife.’
Muriel clasped her hands together on her lap to stop them shaking. ‘I …’
‘Don’t answer yet, think about it. I have various friends in Australia and they have suggested I go out there in the spring and visit them and I thought it would be nice, well absolutely perfect, if I could tell them that my wife would be coming, too. I don’t want to rush you. I want you to give it your utmost consideration.’
‘Muriel, I hope I haven’t rushed my fences.’
‘No you haven’t, and I am very honoured that you should want to marry me. It’s just that …’
‘What?’
‘When I retired I made up my mind that I was quite satisfied with living on my own. I had had years of caring for Mother and being at her beck and call night and day. When I got my own house it meant I could do exactly what I liked when I liked and furnish my home as I wanted it, not as someone else had chosen. I don’t know if I can give up that freedom. I’ve got my life nicely sorted out and I don’t think I want to change it. Don’t think I haven’t thought about what it would be like being married to you, because I have.’
‘I see.’ Ralph took a long sip of his wine and sat staring into his glass.
‘I enjoy your company so much. I can’t imagine what it would be like not to see you and go out with you, but that’s as far as I want it to go. I’m very sorry. It’s not you, it’s the whole idea.’
‘You mean the whole idea of being truly married?’
‘Yes, I think so. Oh dear, I’m not doing very well here, am I? I’m so sorry.’ Muriel got out her handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes.
Ralph still sat staring at his wine. He looked up from his glass.
‘I thought, you see, we would be able to make a go of it. Marriage for companionship’s sake isn’t actually marriage at all, you know. It’s simply a piece of paper. That’s not for me, Muriel – it’s all or nothing. I’m sorry I have embarrassed you by jumping the gun. Shall we go?’
They sat in silence all the way back to Turnham Malpas,
Muriel staring fixedly out of the window, wishing she could bring herself to say yes. But there was no two ways about it: she couldn’t bring herself to think about being in bed with him. Going out and enjoying a little kiss now and again, or going on holiday as companions was fine but that final commitment … No. No. No! That was the truth of it – it wasn’t because she preferred to live on her own, she didn’t, not any more. She couldn’t face up to being ‘married’. If she made a list when she got home of the pros and cons of marriage she wondered how many points there would be on each side. Muriel glanced at Ralph’s profile as he drove. It was a handsome one, but there was no way she could wake up each morning to find that profile laid at the side of her. Imagine actually getting into the same bed! She preferred her neat white single bed in her neat and tidy room in her neat and tidy cottage. No, she’d done the right thing. It was only fair to be truthful and refuse straight away.
Ralph parked the Mercedes outside Glebe Cottages. He got out and went round to open Muriel’s door. She stepped out of the car and led the way to her front door expecting that Ralph was following as usual. But he wasn’t.
‘Aren’t you coming in, Ralph?’
He was standing halfway between the car and the front door. She went back down the path and stood beside him.
‘God, what a mess, Muriel. I won’t come in, thank you. I’ll be in touch.’ He spun on his heel and went straight back to the car. She stood watching him drive away, expecting he would turn round and head for his own house down Church Lane, but he didn’t. He drove off in the direction of Penny Fawcett. What was he doing? Didn’t he know where he lived? She worried about him all evening and wished she’d had more sense and insisted that he came in. When she
took Pericles for his evening walk she deliberately went past Ralph’s house. There were no lights on so he must have either gone to bed early or not yet got home.
The following morning she found a note from Ralph in her letterbox.
‘
Dear Muriel, After your refusal yesterday I have decided we both need time to ourselves, so I am going abroad for a while – at least for a month. After that my plans are vague. I may go to Australia during the summer as I have lots of friends there whom I would like to visit, as I told you
.
Take care. Ralph
.’
She burst into tears. Hot scalding tears ran down her cheeks and fell into her lap. She hadn’t cried with such abandon since her childhood. Like Ralph had said, what a mess. What a stupid, blindingly disastrous mess. She rushed up her little spiral staircase and into the bathroom, turned on the cold tap and splashed her face time and again with the torrents of cold water till her hands and face were numb. Then she dried her face and the edges of her hair where the water had caught it. She combed it vigorously with no attention to style, ran downstairs, pushed Pericles out of the way and fled down Church Lane to Ralph’s house. It was all locked up. She was already too late. He’d gone. She couldn’t even wish him a good holiday or offer to water his plants or anything. He wouldn’t be home for Christmas and that nice little surprise she’d had of inviting him for Christmas dinner wouldn’t materialise.
