The Village Show (Tales from Turnham Malpas) (7 page)

‘Barry!’

‘Go on, give us a kiss!’

Pat pushed him off though at the same time she was quite enjoying his attentions. ‘Give over! For goodness sake, what yer thinking of?’

‘A kiss, that’s what. A kiss from the best girl in the world.’

‘Barry!’

‘Go on! It’d liven up the meeting, wouldn’t it, Louise?’

‘I don’t know about that.’

Pat chuckled. ‘You’ve kissed the blarney stone, you ’ave.’

‘There’s not a drop of Irish blood in my veins. It’s you, yer get me going.’

‘Well, you’re not getting going with me, Barry Jones. Just you watch your step.’ It was a long time since any man had paid attention to Pat in that kind of way, and though she wouldn’t have admitted it for the world she quite enjoyed his banter. His arm still lying nonchalantly across the back of her chair felt comfortable. She hitched ever so slightly closer to him and he squeezed her shoulder in recognition.

‘Coming for a drink in the pub if we finish in time?’

Pat hesitated, then shook her head. She made the excuse that it would be late when they finished and she didn’t like cycling up the drive in the dark when it got late.

‘Tell yer what, I’ll put yer bike in the back of the van and drive you home. How about that? That’s worth a drink, isn’t it?’

‘You still driving that disgusting old van?’

‘My Ferrari’s being serviced.’ He grinned and at such close quarters she could see his beautiful white teeth, evenly spaced and shining, and she sniffed the antiseptic smell of mouthwash on his breath with pleasure.

Pat dug him in the ribs. ‘You daft thing.’

‘Well?’

‘All right then. One drink, that’s all.’

Barry held out his empty cup to Louise. ‘Here you are, thanks. Let’s get this meeting speeded up tonight, I’ve other fish to fry.’

‘Hmmmph!’ Pat retorted. ‘First time I’ve been likened to a cod.’

Barry laughed loudly and she could see he hadn’t a single filling in his mouth. Somehow that seemed to put him in a class of his own. There weren’t many men so careful of themselves that they hadn’t got a single filling by the time they reached forty.

Louise called the meeting to order. She tapped the end of her pen on her saucer and said loudly, ‘Can we begin, please? There’s a lot to get through. Thank you. Good evening, everybody. Firstly, apologies via Peter for Caroline’s absence. I understand her parents are showing some improvement at last, though they are still very ill and will be in hospital for some time yet. Also from Jimbo, who has a severe cold. Pat has come in his stead. Give him our best wishes, Pat, please, when you see him. Now, you’ve all received a copy of the minutes of the last meeting. Are there any matters arising?’

Bryn asked about the hot-air balloon situation. Had anything been done?

Pat nervously spoke up. ‘In ’is notes Jimbo says the friends of ’is who ’ave the balloon are willing to come. They’ll charge
£5
a head for a turn. It sounds an awful lot of
money, doesn’t it, but the cash they take will be donated to a charity.’

Michael Palmer thought that seemed very reasonable. ‘I’d give £5 for a turn. Never tried it, but I’d like to. I wonder how many passengers they can take at once?’

Pat studied Jimbo’s notes. ‘Don’t know – it doesn’t say. He’s given me a list of the food and the prices he’ll be charging. There’s a copy for everyone.’ She passed the pile around the circle and they each took one.

Sheila Bissett was horrified. ‘Fifty pence for a cup of tea? At our flower-arranging society we only charge twenty-five pence. That’s outrageous. You can see what he’s done. Paid a small amount for the concession and then he’s charging prices like this. Shameful. It is for charity, after all.’ She scanned further down the list. ‘And look at this – fifty pence for a sausage roll!’

Pat leapt to his defence. ‘Yes, and if you went into one of them posh cafés in Culworth, what would you pay there? Ninety-five pence for a small pot of tea. Nearly a pound for a scone with butter and jam. I think his prices are quite reasonable in the circumstances.’

‘And what circumstances are those, pray?’

‘Proper tables and chairs to sit at. Proper cups, not those blasted paper things that bum yer ’ands and make the tea taste like cardboard. Nice knives and spoons, not them blessed plastic things, and serviettes. And you’ve got to take into account the losses he stands from people nicking the cutlery. I reckon someone took enough for a whole set when we did the catering for a company “do” in Culworth. Six of each. Just wish I’d caught ’em at it. Besides which, you have nice smart pleasant waitresses serving at the counter and clearing the tables. I know ’cos I shall be organising ’em.’

‘And what do you, with your education, know about arranging such matters?’

Barry, who had been slowly coming to the boil during this attack on Pat, now rose to his feet, crossed the circle of chairs and stood feet apart, pointing his finger in Sheila’s face.

‘Any more lip from you and we’ll start talking about
your
education and
your
past, shall we?’

Michael quickly intervened. ‘I say let’s cool it, this isn’t right.’

Jeremy tut-tutted and suggested Barry sat down.

Bryn shook his head and Linda blushed.

‘I will when she’s apologised. I’m waiting.’

Pat, embarrassed at his defence of her when she was quite capable of defending herself, muttered. ‘It really doesn’t matter, you know. I don’t care.’

‘No, but I do. Well? I’m still waiting.’

Louise quietly said to her mother, ‘There’s no call for that.’

Linda, who had never liked Sheila because in her opinion Sheila always treated her like something that had crawled out from under a stone, piped up with, ‘I don’t know what education has to do with it. If Mr Charter-Plackett has asked Pat to be in charge then he must think she’s capable, and I myself think the prices are very reasonable.’

‘So do I,’ Bryn said, having grown weary of Sheila challenging every decision. ‘Sit down, Barry, do and let’s get on.’

Remembering that he wanted the meeting to finish in reasonable time so he could take Pat for a drink, Barry reluctantly agreed and sat down, putting his arm across the back of Pat’s chair again as though that was where it
belonged. Pat shuffled away from him a bit and he removed his arm and looked glum for the rest of the meeting.

Bryn said, ‘Well, we’ve organised the food and the hot-air balloon rides, now I’m going to talk about the events in this arena Mr Fitch wants. I’ve scheduled things to happen so they don’t clash, and so we don’t get similar events following on after each other. First there’s the fancy-dress parade, then the tug of war between the two pubs – I’ve put that early so they can compete before they’ve all had too much to drink. I’m donating a barrel of beer for the winners, as you know.’

There was a general murmur of thanks for his generosity which he acknowledged with a nod of his head. ‘I understand that Sir Ronald,’ he nodded his head in the direction of Sheila, ‘will be starting them off. Best of three, I think. After that there’s the school display, then the Morris Dancing.’ He nodded enquiringly at Louise who agreed it was all in hand. ‘Then the police motorcycle display team have agreed to come on. Oh – and to finish, there’ll be the children’s races. Thought that would keep the kids and their parents there all afternoon. I think that about sums it up.’

‘Excellent! Well done!’ Jeremy complimented Bryn.

‘Absolutely, Bryn, that’s great! Thank you very much indeed. What a lot of hard work.’ Briskly consulting her list, Louise suggested they got on with the business in hand.

Bryn nodded and said, ‘By the way, I’ll leave
all
the children’s fancy-dress competition to you, Michael – classes, prize, age groups, et cetera?’

‘Of course.’

‘We’ll definitely have that as the first event in the arena then. Otherwise the costumes will be ruined if they have to
wait. We’ll do a grand procession round the Show, finishing in the arena. Could you sort some judges out, Michael?’

Briskly Louise pushed on through the agenda, and much to Barry’s delight it closed within another half an hour, leaving him plenty of time to take Pat for a drink.

‘Good night, everybody. See you on the twelfth of next month.’

‘Not the twelfth, Barry. It’s Friday the thirteenth!’

‘Oh yes, that’s right.’

While Barry was putting her bike in his van, he said, ‘I could have strangled that Sheila.’

‘Oh, don’t worry, she’s always like that. Oh Gawd, me bell’s dropped off. Did yer hear it? Just a minute while I look for it. Here it is – rusted away it has, I’ll have to get a new one.’

Barry put it in his pocket. ‘I’ll fix it for yer, Pat, leave it to me. Come on, hop in and we’ll drive round.’

They parked the van in the car park behind the pub and walked round to the saloon door. Barry held it open for Pat and she popped in under his arm. As she straightened up she saw, sitting at her favourite table, Sylvia and Willie and opposite them Jimmy, whom she hadn’t spoken to in a long while.

‘What will yer ’ave?’

Pat hesitated and decided she’d get more trendy than in the past. ‘I’ll have a gin and tonic, please. Shall we go and sit with Jimmy and them?’

Barry didn’t want to, but on the other hand he might be pushing things along too fast if he insisted they sat alone. Make too much of a point of his intentions in front of everyone.

‘Yes, fine, I’ll get the drinks.’

When Sylvia saw Pat coming across she slid further along the settle to make room for her.

Jimmy grinned at her. ‘Well, Pat, long time no see. Too posh are yer nowadays then?’

‘Enough of your cheek, Jimmy Glover. I’ve been far too busy getting straight as you well know. Just because I’m living in the Garden House doesn’t mean I’ve given up on me friends. Hello Sylvia, hello Willie.’

She plumped down on the settle making sure she wasn’t creasing her skirt.

‘Must say you’re looking smart, where’ve you been?’ Jimmy commented.

‘To the Show committee meeting in place of Jimbo, he’s got a shocking cold and Harriet wouldn’t let him go. Right meeting we’ve ’ad and not ’alf’

Jimmy, always ready for a bit of gossip, said, ‘Let’s get your drink in and then yer can tell us.’

‘That’s all right, thanks, Barry’s getting mine. Will yer mind if he sits with us?’

There was a chorus of, ‘Of course not,’ just as Barry came to the table with the drinks.

Jimmy greeted him with, ‘Evenin’, Barry. Don’t see you in here much.’

‘No.’ Sylvia moved up a little further and Barry squeezed in beside Pat. ‘I’m a Jug and Bottle man myself, but this was the nearest tonight. It’s quite nice in here, isn’t it? I might change my allegiance.’ He smiled at Pat, showing those lovely white teeth again, and she smelt the mouthwash. She’d never known before that mouthwash could be so … so …

Willie urged Pat to tell them what had happened at the meeting.

‘Sheila Bissett’s put her foot in it again.’

Barry banged down his glass and said, ‘Bloody woman! Needs her brains examining, saying Pat couldn’t run the refreshment marquee! For two pins I’d have throttled her.’

Pat chuckled. Jimmy, unable to resist making a comment about Pat’s escort, gave Barry a sly look and then said, ‘It’ll be a long way up that drive this time o’ night on yer bike, Pat.’

‘Mind yer own business, Jimmy.’

‘It
is
my business. Me and Willie ’ere have been guarding your interests for a long time. We don’t want you cycling up there in the dark, do we, Willie?’ Willie agreed. ‘Can I offer yer a lift in me taxi?’ Jimmy asked.

Pat felt a fool. She blushed.

Barry laughed. ‘Yer can stop digging for clues –
I’m
taking her home. Her bike’s in my van right now.’

‘Oh well then, I’m relieved. I know she’ll be in capable ’ands with you, Barry. Oh yes, very capable hands. Very capable … hands.’

There was something about the twinkle in Jimmy’s eye and the smirk on Willie’s face which made Pat question what Jimmy had said. ‘What do you mean by that?’

Jimmy jerked his thumb in Barry’s direction. ‘Ask ’im.’

‘Well?’

‘I don’t know what he’s talking about. Take no notice, Pat.’

‘Why have you gone red then?’

‘I haven’t.’ But he had. Bright red and very embarrassed.

Willie chuckled. ‘Casanova. That’s what he is. Casanova.’

‘He’s had more girls in the last twenty years than I’ve had hot dinners,’ Jimmy sniggered.

‘That wouldn’t be difficult, seeing as it’s mostly pork pie and a bag of crisps for yer dinner,’ Pat retorted. Oddly she
felt quite pleased Barry was inclined that way. It would make life more exciting. Her Doug had been about as sexually active as a monk. She never did quite understand how she had ever managed to conceive twice.

‘Come on then, Barry, if yer’ve finished yer drink. I’ve an early start in the morning, and it was already beginning to freeze when we left the meeting.’ Barry squeezed out from the settle followed by Pat. Behind Barry’s back Jimmy gave her the thumbs-up and Sylvia flashed her a wink.