Trouble in the Village (Tales from Turnham Malpas) (13 page)
Read Trouble in the Village (Tales from Turnham Malpas) Online
Authors: Rebecca Shaw
Vera looked at her, then at the table which, despite the
ravages of a meal almost done, still looked inviting and wished, oh, how she wished. ‘All I ask for is some consideration from him, but what do I get? An almighty kick in the teeth. You’re so lucky. So very lucky. We only have to see the Rector look at you and we know how much he loves yer. Don’t ever do anything to lose that, because you’ll regret it as long as you live.’ Vera blushed for having been so familiar, and longed to go. ‘Will the Rector be long?’
‘That sounds like him now.’
‘Has he finished his meal?’
‘Yes.’
Vera stood up ready to leave.
They drove all the way to Penny Fawcett in silence. Peter looked at her occasionally but her face was so set in misery he couldn’t bring himself to disturb her.
He pulled up outside the nursing home, opened the car door for her, and as she got out she said, ‘Rector, I think I’ve reached an all-time low today. I was so excited when they told me Don was having the kitchen done. I thought, at last he’s taking some notice of what I want. At long last. But after what I’ve discovered today … I know just how little he thinks of me. Zilch. Nothing. Zero. Nought.’
‘Look, Vera, I don’t know, obviously, what caused that furore just now but whatever it is, if you feel the need to talk to someone about it, the Rectory door is only locked to keep Sheila’s cat Topsy in, not you out. You only need to knock and either I or Caroline will listen, and we’ll help you all we can.’ He took her hand in his as he said this and made the sign of the cross on her forehead. ‘God bless you.’
‘Thank you, Rector. Thank you. I’m grateful for that.’
A week later in the post came a communication from a bank informing her that she needed to call at their Culworth Branch with some documents they specified to sign papers for the opening of an account in the joint names of Donald Isambard Wright and Vera Renee Wright. She had to read it twice before realisation began to dawn. Never having received a letter from a bank before, it took some understanding. Had he put all the money into the bank and she had a share of it then? He couldn’t. He wouldn’t, wouldn’t Don. Or had he? How could she find out? She puzzled over this all morning till finally she became so confused someone asked her if she wasn’t well. ‘Oh! I am. It’s to do with money. I’ve got to get to the bank today, it says so. I’ll work extra tonight to make up.’
So she trundled to Culworth on the lunchtime bus with the letter in her bag, wearing her newest jacket and skirt. She didn’t have to see the manager, someone else, a nice young girl who didn’t look old enough to be working, let alone managing customer’s accounts dealt with it. She showed them her birth certificate and a letter from the council addressed to her at the nursing home, signed the papers, nodded that the address was correct, and then asked, ‘Excuse me, is it all right for me to ask how much is in the account? My husband set it up, you see, and forgot to tell me.’
‘Seven thousand five hundred pounds.’
Vera never let her face slip, not an inch, not even one of those new-fangled millimetres. ‘And if I want to take money out?’
‘By cheque, or by a cash card with a pin number, but that will take a while to set up.’
‘You mean one of those machines in the wall?’
Sitting on the Penny Fawcett afternoon bus Vera was forced to the conclusion that Don was a far nicer man than she had thought. Still, time would tell, a leopard doesn’t completely change its spots, not all at once anyway. She’d bide her time, but she would send him a little note to thank him for what he’d done. When the bus pulled up outside the Store, out of habit she rose to get off then remembered she was going on to Penny Fawcett. Her mistake triggered off the thought that however kindly she might come to think about Don she wasn’t giving up her job and going back to live in the cottage. He’d have to come to her at the flat. She thought about his dyed hair and giggled. Who’d have thought it?
Still, as she stood appraising the sitting room just before they arrived she decided that, yes, it did look welcoming, and the small table set with the necessities for morning coffee looked very attractive.
She heard a toot and saw Gilbert’s car slide gently to a stop outside. Sheila walked in as though she’d just been out
for a stroll, but Ron moved awkwardly and his face was white with pain.
‘Oh, Sir Ronald, do sit down, you look to be in such pain!’
He grunted, which she took to be a yes, and gently lowered himself into the nearest armchair. Muriel took his stick from him and propped it against the wall.
‘There, Sheila, where are you going to sit?’
Sheila gave a great sigh. ‘It is so lovely being home. I thought at one time I wouldn’t want to come here ever again but I do. I thought we’d have to sell up and go somewhere else, but how could I?’ She beamed at Gilbert who was coming in with their belongings. ‘I couldn’t leave my dear Louise and her lovely Gilbert, could I?’
Gilbert grinned at her and said, ‘Now, now, Mother-in-law, less of the flattery. Where shall I put these?’
‘I mean every word. You’re the best son-in-law anyone could hope to have, isn’t he, Ron?’
Ron nodded. ‘He is. The best. Thanks for this morning, Gilbert.’
‘The least I can do. Louise will be round tonight, she’s leaving me in charge while she comes. Just sorry the baby’s too poorly to be left.’
‘Upstairs, Gilbert, please.’
He went to do as Sheila asked, leaving a silence behind him.
Muriel filled it by asking if they’d like coffee.
Sheila groaned. ‘Would I like coffee! I certainly would. That stuff at the hospital tasted like lavatory cleaner.’
‘But they’ve looked after you quite splendidly, haven’t they?’
‘Oh, yes. The medical attention is first-rate. Couldn’t be bettered if we’d paid a thousand pounds a day, but the
food …’ She looked round the room and noticed the flowers. ‘Where have all these flowers come from?’
‘The roses are from Nick and Ros Barnes, the Michaelmas daisies and chrysanthemums from Dicky, Bel and Georgie. Tom and Evie sent this wonderful pot plant with a little note and –’
‘How are they? Tom and Evie?’
Gilbert came down and said he’d have to get back to work, and anything they needed they only had to ring, and on no account was Ron to cut the lawn, he, Gilbert, would do it at the weekend. Ron moaned at the prospect, and Gilbert left in a flurry of laughter.
Sheila smiled. ‘Such a lovely boy, Gilbert. I don’t know where we would have been without him these last weeks. So Tom and poor Evie?’
‘Very well, so far as I know.’
‘It must have been a shock for them, that happening to us after such a lovely evening.’
‘I’m sure it was. Tom took it very much to heart.’
‘That nice superintendent is absolutely foxed as to why we got beaten up. It wasn’t as if it was a burglary and we’d interrupted them. They beat us up full stop.’
‘It must have been dreadful.’
Sheila quietly began to cry. Ron gestured to her in sympathy but couldn’t face heaving himself out of the chair, and Muriel went into the kitchen to make the coffee. There was nothing she could find to say. It must have been terrifying and then coming back had inevitably revived all the horror.
Muriel carried the coffee pot in. Sheila was wiping her eyes. ‘I’m sorry about crying, it’s not like me.’
‘Oh yes, I love getting post. Yes, I’ll open it.’
Muriel finished serving the coffee and went into the kitchen to pick up the letters. The topmost one was addressed to Orchid House. Oh dear! That relief postman was getting himself all confused. Orchid House. Orchard House. Orchid House! Why? Surely not. It couldn’t be, could it? Had the attackers got themselves confused just like the postman? It was dark, and with no street lighting … Why ever hadn’t she thought of it before?
Muriel rushed back into the sitting room. ‘Sheila! This letter is addressed to Tom and Evie at Orchid House. Don’t you see? Orchard House. Orchid House. That was the mistake! In the dark. They meant to hurt Tom and Evie, not you. It wasn’t you at all!’
‘Let me see.’
Ron struggled to his feet. ‘Of course! It was
them
, not us.’
Sheila scoffed at them both. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. What have poor Evie and Tom done to deserve it any more than us?’
Muriel felt very silly. ‘Of course, it’s just as impossible, isn’t it? I’m sorry, I really must stop jumping to conclusions. Who’d want to batter a harmless verger?’
Sheila, her mind working furiously, suddenly began to find very good reasons for supporting Muriel’s theory. ‘Ah! But he hasn’t always been a verger, has he? Let’s face it, we none of us knew what he’d been up to before he became
verger. All that supposed wheeling and dealing. Import, export. That covers a multitude of sins, or it could.’
Ron sat down again. He battled with the pain for a moment and then said, ‘Well, I feel too ill to bother. At least we’re alive and we know it’s not happened because of something we’ve done, so let the police get on with it.’
‘No,’ Sheila protested,’ we can’t let the matter drop. Can we, Muriel?’
‘I feel very silly actually for even thinking it. Ralph won’t want me to get involved, so I for one am not going to say any more. I’ll take the letter to Tom’s and not say a word. In fact, I’ll pop it through the letterbox and I won’t knock, because I feel too embarrassed.’
‘Well, if you won’t take it further, I will.’
‘But we don’t know, do we, what they could possibly have done to deserve it? You have to be very careful.’
‘Poor Evie. Makes you wonder what she’s had to put up with all these years. All that terrible silence must mean something. Perhaps she daren’t speak because she’s afraid of giving secrets away. That’ll be it. He’s silenced her.’
‘But Tom’s not like that.’ Then Muriel remembered how she’d told Ralph she didn’t like Tom wearing those orange overalls, and how he’d pooh-poohed it. Maybe Tom really was a malevolent creature planning to take over the world, or at least their part of it and Ralph was wrong.
The doorbell rang in the midst of all these suppositions and when Muriel answered it there stood Ralph.
Him having been uppermost in her thoughts at that moment Muriel was startled to find him on the doorstep. ‘Oh! It’s Ralph!’
He looked surprised at her greeting. ‘Yes, this is your
husband here. I live with you across the Green, you know, next door but one to the Rectory.’
Muriel laughed. ‘Don’t be silly, Ralph!’
‘Can I come in?’
She stepped back and opened the door wider. ‘Of course. Sheila and Ron are in the sitting room.’
Sheila winced. If only she’d called it the drawing room, in front of Sir Ralph too. ‘Come in, Sir Ralph, please do. Here we are, all cosy in our lovely drawing room again.’
Ralph bent to kiss her cheek. ‘Welcome home, Sheila, and you too, Ron.’ He shook hands with Ron. ‘Lovely to have you back all in one piece. I must say you’re looking remarkably well considering what you’ve been through.’
Sheila smiled her hostess smile saying, ‘Lovely to see you too. Can we offer you coffee?’
‘Thank you, no. Muriel and I are out to lunch today and we must be leaving shortly, but I felt I must come to say welcome back.’
‘That’s so thoughtful of you. Do you know, Sir Ralph? Muriel has come up with an answer as to why we were attacked.’
Ralph raised his eyebrows at Muriel. ‘Have you?’
‘No, I haven’t not really, dear.’
‘You have, Muriel, hasn’t she, Ron?’
‘Well, I’m not convinced …’
‘It should have been Tom and Evie who got beaten up not us. In the dark they confused Orchard House for Orchid House. Why did they change the name to Orchid House? Just to cause this kind of confusion, do you think?’
Ralph shook his head. ‘No. Tom specialises in growing orchids. I’ve seen them. He’s quite an expert.’
‘Oh, that’s what the fancy greenhouse is then? I wondered what it was for.’
‘That’s right.’
‘Still, it means we were on the receiving end of whatever was intended for them.’
‘Now, Sheila, you do not know that. You only surmise. Please be careful, you know what rumours are like in this village. A seed becomes a monstrous tree in the course of a day.’
‘But don’t you think the police should know?’
‘Possibly they have already thought that out for themselves.’
‘Well, Sir Ralph, if that is true why haven’t they done something about it?’
‘They may have and drawn a blank like they have about you and Ron.’
Ron, too weary to tolerate Sheila’s persistent questioning, said, ‘Look, let’s leave it for now. I’m quite sure the police can manage perfectly well without our assistance. I’ll have more coffee, if I may.’
Muriel poured it for him and then said, ‘I’ll wash up before I go.’
Sheila shook her head. ‘No need. That Dottie Foskett is coming back to make the lunch. She’s at Louise’s at the moment. We’re going to share her for a while till I feel better, which won’t be long if I’ve anything to do with it. How our Louise puts up with Dottie I’ll never know. Louise says she’s conscientious and punctual and never asks to go early. But the gossip! Louise says sometimes she’s had to send Gilbert out of the room so he won’t be embarrassed. Such an innocent is Gilbert. However, she did tell …’
In case Ralph got treated to a sample of Dottie’s gossip
Muriel decided to leave. ‘You have my number, Ralph and I will be only too pleased to help, any time, don’t hesitate. I’ll pop in tomorrow just in case.’
‘Thank you, Muriel, very much. Everyone’s been so kind.’
Muriel popped the letter for Orchid House through the letterbox and as they crossed the Green she said, ‘You know, I’m sure I’m right.’
Ralph tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and held it there. ‘You well could be, but don’t say anything. Like Ron said, the police know what they’re doing. That Proctor chap has more than his fair share of brains. He’ll sort it out.’
‘It’s the orange overalls. I did say, didn’t I?’
Ralph stopped by the pond and watched the geese with their broods of young ones preening themselves by the water’s edge. ‘I love your imagination, Muriel. It gives me great pleasure, so childlike, not childish, childlike, but you’ve got it wrong.’ He finished what he had to say with an emphatic ‘So please say no more about it.’
‘I’m not used to you laying down the law to me.’
‘I know you’re not, but I am, just this once. Your thoughts transmitted to anyone else will grow in their minds and before we know it it will turn into a witch hunt, and we shall be rolled back three centuries in a single decisive moment. So for everyone’s good, forget it, my dear.’
‘Like when they stoned the Baxter sisters’ house.’
Ralph nodded. ‘Exactly. I can’t quite find the right words to describe it, but whatever it is, something gets called up from way back in time and makes them erupt into quite violent action. Very alarming really when it happens.
Lunch, I think.’ He looked at his watch. ‘Ten minutes and we’ve to be off.’
‘Oh, Ralph, I’ll never be ready in time!’
Sheila had plenty of visitors that first morning, which quite exhausted Ron and he had to retire to bed after lunch completely worn out. Dottie stayed long enough to make the lunch and clear away and then set off on her bike again for Little Derehams and Louise’s, but not before Sheila had tested her new theory out on her.
‘It was Lady Templeton who twigged what had happened, she was very convinced.’
‘Well, she should know what’s she’s about, her a Lady.’
Sheila nodded. ‘Yes, you can rely on her.’
‘But what’s he been up to?’
‘Ahhhh! That’s it, isn’t it?’
‘Yes.’ Dottie shifted her weight to her other leg and lifted the corner of Sheila’s nets to peep outside. ‘Does the police know? ’Cos they’re just about to knock on the door.’
‘What?’ Sheila straightened herself up, patted her hair and regretted not having repaired her lipstick since eating her lunch.
They heard the doorbell ring.
‘That’s them. Shall I let them in?’
‘Of course.’
Dottie hovered in the hall listening to them talking. The upshot of the conversation with the police was that they would prefer it if Sheila and Ron, in the circumstances, had a police officer on duty at the house at all times, only as a precaution, of course.
‘Dear heavens! Whatever for!’
