The Village Show (Tales from Turnham Malpas) (13 page)

‘Yes. Bad news, I’m afraid. On Monday they’re starting digging to put the new sewer pipes in at the Big House. Right across the lawns, over Home Farm field and out into the main road.’

‘
What?
Are you kidding me?’

‘God’s truth. Old Fitch has been trying to play for time, but the Health say do it now or we close you down. So he’s got no alternative.’

‘But they won’t be finished in time, will they?’

‘Good summer, let’s hope so.’

‘What a mess. All the work we’ve put in. The Morris Dancers, the police team, the hot-air balloon, the competitions.’ She took a sip of her drink and then something else occurred to her. She sat bolt upright and for once spoke without considering every word she said. ‘The printing – we’ve had the printing done! All that money. I’m expecting all the leaflets and posters to arrive this week. It’s far too far advanced to cancel that. What are we going to do?’ Some of the customers sitting close to their table heard Louise’s raised voice and the news passed round the bar in a trice.

‘Show cancelled, you say?’

‘Never!’

‘Well!’

‘New sewers? Not before time. Our Melanie works in the kitchens, says them lavatories is a disgrace. They gurgles and don’t flush properly, according to her.’

‘Health have too much power. Shut ’em down, indeed! What business is it of theirs, I say?’

‘Exactly. It’s like living in a police state.’

‘It is, yer right.’

‘Time this government got their comeuppance.’

‘Exactly. Give me yer glass, I’ll get ’em in this time.’

Louise recovering from the first shock-waves, said, ‘Still, two and a half months … that’s a long time with these modern diggers and things, isn’t it? We shall be all right, shan’t we?’ There was a request for reassurance in the tone of her voice.

‘I expect so. Well, I hope so.’

‘I shall go up to the Big House on Monday and have a word with Mr Fitch in my capacity as Show secretary.’

‘Won’t do much good. He’s in Toronto and won’t be back till next weekend.’

Pat, who hadn’t spoken a word since Louise joined them, said how much she liked Louise’s new hairstyle.

Louise looked pleased. ‘Oh, thank you. I had it done this afternoon. Not had curly hair before.’

‘New clothes too.’

‘Yes. Not before time.’

Pat was puzzled at the back of her mind. There seemed to be something familiar about the clothes, and she couldn’t think why.

They talked for a while longer and then Pat pushed back the cuff of Barry’s jacket and looked at his watch. ‘Time I went home, Barry. We’ll love you and leave you, Louise. Hope yer friend turns up.’

‘Friend? Oh yes. Right. Good night. Let’s hope the sewers get done in time. I think I’ll still go up there on Monday and have a word with the men. Chivvy them along a bit.’

‘Good idea. Good night.’

Barry and Pat left the saloon, and after they’d gone heads got together and they became the subject of speculation.

‘Just ’ope she knows what she be doin’.’

‘All alike, them Joneses. Sex mad.’

‘Talk about spreading it about.’

‘Remember that time …’

‘She wants to watch her step. Just got herself nicely sorted with that big house and that, and then he turns his sparkling eyes on her.’

‘Cor, he’s got something though, hasn’t he? Those thighs! Gawd! Wouldn’t mind a bit of it meself.’

‘You devil you.’

‘He’s a bit of all right, is Barry.’

‘Can’t think what he sees in ’
er
.’

There was no friend coming to join Louise, and she sat alone until her drink was finished and then she left.

‘Before you go up to bed, Dean, I’ll have a look to see where you want your cupboards putting.’

Dean leaped off the sofa. ‘Do yer mean that? Are you going to make me some?’

‘Your mother says I can. If that’s all right with you.’

‘Come up. I’ll be your apprentice if you like.’

‘OK.’

Pat put the kettle on and got out the cups and saucers. She found a crumpled tray cloth at the back of the tablecloth drawer and smoothed it out on the tray, anchoring it with the teapot and the sugar basin. Somehow she wanted to give a good impression. She didn’t know why, but she did. She found some chocolate biscuits which Dean had missed and laid them out on a plate.

Barry came down, he was scribbling on a piece of paper he’d torn from the pad Dean used for his essays.

‘There, that’s it. I’ll have it done in no time at all.’

‘You’re too kind. Don’t do it if you’re too busy.’

‘Nonsense! He wants cupboards and cupboards he’ll get. He could do with encouraging. Boys need a man about.’

He sat beside her on the sofa. She poured the tea, giving him a heaped teaspoon of sugar, the way she remembered he liked it.

‘He’s going to do well at school, isn’t he?’

‘Yes, but I don’t know where he gets it from. Used to be a tearaway and now he’s working all hours. School says when he’s done his GCSEs, which isn’t for a bit yet, he should stay on and do A-Levels and go to University. Doug would have been that proud.’

‘Still miss him, Pat?’

‘No.’ She offered him the biscuits.

‘Thanks. Once bitten, twice shy?’

‘Don’t know.’

‘Come here. Give us a kiss.’

‘Dad’ll be in.’

‘I’ve paid him to stay in his room.’

‘You haven’t, have you?’

‘No. But he was young once.’ Barry kissed her and this time she kissed him. She’d taken her jacket off when she’d come in the house, and as he kissed her Barry smoothed his hands up and down her bare arm to where her sleeve began, and then more adventurously he slipped his hand inside her blouse and was caressing her collar bone as they kissed. Then her neck and then he slid her bra strap from her shoulder and began kissing the hollows at the base of her neck.

‘Mmmm … you smell good.’

‘Barry, that’s enough. Please.’

‘Come on. Come on. You know you’re beginning to enjoy it …’

And she was, but she was afraid. Afraid of wanting him to go on. Afraid of enjoying it too much. Afraid of going too far, from which there would be no stepping back. And anyways, Pat Duckett didn’t do things like this and
enjoy
them. There wasn’t room in Pat Duckett’s life for enjoyment. All the same, it did feel …

‘That’s enough, you two. Anybody’d think you were teenagers. Is that tea still hot?’

It was her dad. Pat struggled to sit upright, hooking her bra strap back up and straightening her hair. Barry laughed. ‘Come on, Greenwood. You’re a spoilsport.’

‘Spoilsport my foot,’ Greenwood said. ‘Your reputation goes before you, Barry. You’re not spreading it about round here. I want her treated with respect, and your past record doesn’t lead me to believe that’s what you’ll do.’

‘Come off it! That’s the first time we’ve really had a go.’

Humiliated, Pat snapped, ‘Dad, be quiet. I’ll get you a cup.’ She disappeared into the kitchen.

‘And I’ll tell you something else, Barry. You don’t mess her about and then float off to pastures new. She’s had a rotten life with that fool she married. I’m not having her hurt again.’

‘Cross my heart and hope to die, I’m not messing about. Honest.’

Pat came back.

‘Oh, I see. Cup and saucer tonight. Usually it’s a mug. Thanks, Pat. I’ll say good night.’ He nodded curtly to Barry, took his cup of tea from Pat and left.

‘You’d better go. Thanks for the drink tonight.’

‘That’s all right, my pleasure. I’ve been thinking, Pat. I know someone who has a big residential caravan. I did some jobs for ’im a while back and he said any time I wanted to borrow it, so long as he wasn’t needing it, I could. A week, he said. It’s quite close to the sea and there’s a river with trout fishing. I could take my rods and Dean could fish. There’s places to visit. I know Michelle likes to look round gardens …’

Pat put up her hand to stop him. ‘Oh no! I’m sorry, but no. I’ve got too much respect for my kids to have them knowing I’m …’

‘Pat! Let me finish. There’s three bedrooms. It’s huge.
Dean and me could have one, you and Michelle the other and Greenwood could be on his own. How about that?’

‘I’m sorry, beg yer pardon for misunderstanding. It’s a wonderful idea, but I’d have to talk to them about it. I’ll let you know. We’ll have a family conference and see. It would have to be when the schools break up. Our Dean can’t miss school at the moment, and our Michelle will want to be there, seeing as it’s her last term.’

‘Of course. I understand that. I’ll make enquiries then, just in case. Say yes, please. Goodnight, Pat.’ He left without giving her a kiss and she felt quite let down.

Before she went to sleep, Pat thought about the evening and how much she’d enjoyed it. A week by the sea would do them all good. But she couldn’t understand the game Barry was playing. What with Avril Nightingale and the woman from Home Farm, and all the tales she’d heard, ’cos Jimmy and Willie knew what he was like, it didn’t fit in that he wanted a holiday with two kids and a grandad. Still, she liked the bedroom arrangements and with Dad there he couldn’t, could he?

As she was falling asleep she found the answer. It sprang into her mind in a flash, just when she was thinking about Barry’s lips on her collar bone. Of course.
That was it
. It was as plain as the nose on yer face.
Louise was trying to look like Caroline
.

On the Monday morning, instead of heading straight for the rectory, Louise went up to the Big House to see what was going on. Quite by chance she met Jeremy Mayer out on the front lawns. He was standing with his bulky legs apart, his pocket watch in his hand.

‘Good morning, Jeremy. Nice day.’

‘Good morning, Louise. To what do I owe this pleasure?’

‘Sewers.’

‘Ah, yes. They should be here by now, but they’re not. Eight o’clock start they said, and it’s now half-past nine.’

‘It’s all very well you know, but what about the Show? We can hardly run it if there’s diggers and trenches in the way.’

‘My very thoughts. Mr Fitch is steaming over there in Toronto. In fact, I’m amazed he hasn’t been on the buzzer yet.’

‘The leaflets and the posters are being delivered this week. I don’t know what to do.’

‘My dear young lady – and you’re looking dashed handsome this morning, I must say – if Mr Fitch has
anything to do with it, we shall
all
have spades in our hands before long, me included.’

He patted the sleeve of her new suede jacket with his white podgy hand. She adjusted the Jaeger scarf at her neck and said, ‘Do you mean that?’

‘He hasn’t got where he is today without making things happen. But this time he seems to have come up against something even he can’t fix. Believe me, if paying everyone to get behind a spade will speed things up, he’ll do it. This Show’s important, you see. It’s all part of establishing himself in the village. Shouldn’t be saying that but it’s true and they all know it, but he doesn’t realise they all know it.’

‘So basically the committee have to keep their fingers crossed?’

‘Exactly. But things don’t augur well, do they, when the men haven’t even turned up. Try not to worry.’

‘We’ve arranged so many events,’ Louise fretted. ‘I haven’t the courage to confirm things, but I’ll have to pretend it’s going ahead and keep my fingers crossed.’

The receptionist came out of the front door. ‘Mr Mayer – it’s Toronto!’

‘Oh God! Pray for me. Coming, Fenella.’ As fast as he could, considering his bulk, Jeremy scurried back inside.

Louise drove back along the drive, feeling in two minds about the Show. One half of her wanted to take the gamble that it would go ahead, the other cringed at the thought and wanted to cancel the whole thing. Peter might have a few ideas – she’d consult him. While she waited at the drive gates for an opportunity to get out into Church Lane, she looked at herself in her rearview mirror and liked what she saw. Minimum of make-up, brown curls, the Jaeger scarf adding a touch of colour to the dark, dark brown of her suede jacket. She’d spent a fortune. Thank heavens for little
plastic cards. But the day of reckoning would surely come, she knew that. In fact, the idea of getting a job began to loom in the furthest corners of her mind. As Mother said, and she didn’t say much of significance very often, money didn’t last for ever. But she looked good. Oh yes. Depending on the atmosphere at the rectory, today could be
the day
. She was brought down from the clouds by a loud tooting behind her. It was Barry Jones wanting to get out of the gates.

She twinkled her fingers at him through the open window and with a quick check turned right into Church Lane. Barry Jones … He gave off that extra bit of something she couldn’t quite define. A kind of manly vibrance. A sexuality which excited. Still, Pat was welcome to him – though what he saw in
her
she couldn’t imagine. She, Louise Bissett, had her sights on higher targets than an estate carpenter.