Trouble in the Village (Tales from Turnham Malpas) (19 page)
Read Trouble in the Village (Tales from Turnham Malpas) Online
Authors: Rebecca Shaw
If Caroline had thought she would shame him into surrender by the disappointed tone in her voice, she was
mistaken: he had a lot at stake. The only thing which troubled his conscience was Muriel being there, for he valued her principles enormously.
He stood on the step of the digger and raised his voice so they could all hear. ‘Now see here, I’m not getting rid of the hedge as such –’
Gareth shouted him down ‘What is digging it up by its roots but getting rid of it?’
‘There’ll still be a fence there, and Rector’s Meadow will still exist.’
‘Oh! Yes!’ shouted Gareth. ‘Who yer kidding? Birds and plants can’t grow in a fence. Our heritage is at risk!’ This statement proved a rallying cry and all Gareth’s group waved their placards and shouted, ‘Our heritage! We shall not be moved! Down with greedy landowners!’
Scathingly Mr Fitch said, ‘Your heritage! You don’t even live here!’
‘No, but we’re here to support our brothers … and sisters!’ Gareth put an arm around Muriel’s shoulders and squeezed them.
Muriel thought she would die. ‘Mr Fitch, this is all most unseemly.’
‘It is.’ His shoulders drooped and Muriel thought, Victory!
Ron stepped forward to speak. ‘In view of my experience in negotiations on behalf of the union could we perhaps retire for a discussion? I would willingly offer my expertise.’
‘Hear, hear!’ some of them shouted.
Mr Fitch glared at him, and momentarily Muriel saw disdain in his ice cold eyes. Speculatively he appraised the scene and appeared to come to a decision. ‘Well, if you’re so
determined, far be it from me … these great machines can’t turn round in this lane, though, and it’s too far for them to reverse all the way down into the Culworth Road. We’ll unlock the gate and they can turn round in the meadow and then when they’re sorted we’ll have that discussion, Ron. All right, Muriel?’
Out of the corner of her eye Muriel could see Caroline furiously shaking her head. But he was right, they couldn’t turn round, they were far too big, so yes, she agreed, they’d better turn round in the field. For the moment half a victory seemed better than none. ‘Very well. We agree, and then we’ll talk.’
Gareth almost exploded. ‘No. No. No. We can’t allow it.’ He thumped a big fist into the palm of his other hand and shouted, ‘It’s a trick. A dastardly scheming trick! Don’t you see?’
Muriel calmly patted his arm and declared, ‘Mr Fitch is doing his best to accommodate us, I’m sure he is a man of his word. We have got him to talk haven’t we? and as you would say that is a plus.’
The driver had the key and they all stood back to allow him through. The huge gate swung open and the driver secured it with a stone. He climbed back into his cab, and in a moment their ears were filled again with the horrendous noise of his engine. The other two vehicles revved up and followed on into the field. Immediately, Muriel saw what was happening. He’d got the diggers into the field by the most reprehensible trick, but before she could do anything about it Mr Fitch had swung the gate shut and snapped the padlock closed. He was out in the lane, smiling to himself. Muriel who, though small, was about the same height as
him, strode forward to stand in front of him. For the first time in her life she was shaking with temper. ‘I am ashamed of you. Ashamed. You wish everyone to think of you as a gentleman, well, let me tell you here and now, you are not and never will be.’
He couldn’t meet her eyes.
Gareth girded his group together and surrounded him. Muriel sensed an ugly feeling in the air, and when she saw Gareth beginning to shoulder Mr Fitch and shout abuse at him, she thought, There’s going to be a lynching here. She wasn’t quite sure what a lynching actually involved but the threat was there for all to see. She pushed her way into the mêlée surrounding Mr Fitch and shouted, ‘This must stop. This instant. I will not have it! Do you hear me? Stop it.’
Ron, Arthur, Willie and Tom squeezed through to stand beside her, just in case. Caroline ran to get Ralph, but he was already there in the lane. Muriel went to climb over the gate and was in such a state of high dudgeon that she climbed over it without the smallest difficulty. Landing safely on the other side she beckoned the others to follow suit. ‘Lie down front and back of them, then they can’t move.’
In a trice the Senior sisters were over the gate and rushing to lie down with Muriel. They were closely followed by Caroline and all the others. Three vehicles: there were at least four people to every one of them and effectively they put paid to any movement. Muriel stared up at the sky, her heart beating faster than she thought possible. Never, never as long as she lived would she give Mr Fitch the benefit of the doubt again. He was a craven liar and trickster in her book, and she’d said to his face what Ralph had long
declared … Where was Ralph? She could hear all the commotion going on, Gareth shouting a lot and, oh dear! that sounded like a police siren. So it had come then. She was about to be arrested. Did she care? No, the whole world had a right to know what a perfectly dreadful man Craddock Fitch was.
A flash from a camera almost blinded her. Oh, no. Now her picture would be plastered across the front of the paper. Muriel determinedly closed her eyes, and didn’t care a damn that the dry spiky grass was pricking into her legs nor that there was a distinct feeling of dampness creeping into her bones. What was that compared to a wren losing its home and those dear shy violets being destroyed for ever? The sacrifice was well worth it.
In the ensuing struggle Muriel heard Ralph’s voice, then, above all the chaos, Mr Fitch yelling ‘
What
!’
A stunned silence fell, so Muriel sat up to see what was happening.
Ralph, with a posse of men in suits standing behind him, was facing up to Mr Fitch. ‘You
will
listen to what they have to say, Craddock. Right?’
‘I shall not. They know what they have to say, and that is that I am at liberty to tear up this hedge, and neither you nor anyone else is going to stop me.’
A man whom Muriel assumed must be from Culworth Council stepped from behind Ralph. He cleared his throat, always a sure sign, thought Muriel, that someone is nervous. His voice at first was squeaky with panic and then as he went on it deepened. ‘Mr Fitch, the council insist you must not take down this hedge. If you do you will be prosecuted
and fined and will also have it to replant, every single metre of it.’
‘That’s not what you said when I gave –’
The man from the council held up his hand. ‘I’m sorry, but under the Hedgerow Regulations of 1997 this ancient hedgerow cannot be removed.’
Mr Fitch, seething with temper, took the man aside. ‘What are you talking about? You knew, I knew, I couldn’t take it down but you agreed I could.’
The man from the council took Mr Fitch’s hand from his arm and said, ‘Well, now I’ve changed my mind.’
‘Had it changed for you, you mean.’ Mr Fitch, boiling and almost speechless with temper, turned to Ralph a fist raised, and Muriel, through the bars of the gate, could see that things were getting even uglier. She leaped to her feet, scaled the gate and was beside Ralph ready to defend him before Mr Fitch had sufficient control to speak.
‘You supercilious sod, you.’ He drew in a deep, shuddering breath. ‘Been throwing your aristocratic weight about, have you, down at the council offices?’
‘Be careful what you say, Craddock, the press and the police are here. I merely showed these council officials the error of their ways. Money, after all, you see, cannot buy absolutely everything.’ The council officials had the grace to look embarrassed.
‘Damn and blast you. You bloody interfering old has-been.’
Muriel said, ‘Mr Fitch, please.’ Her quiet protest brought a semblance of control to him. His fist was put at his side, his breathing slowed.
He turned to speak to the council officials, taking them
aside for a muttered conference. Muriel slipped her muddy hand into Ralph’s and squeezed his fingers. She whispered, ‘Thank you, dear.’
Mr Fitch’s parting words were spoken with a finger stabbing at the three men from the council. ‘You owe me! And don’t you forget it.’ He walked away down the lane to his Land Rover and they watched it reverse rapidly and erratically down the lane to where it joined the Culworth Road. A cheer went up. The Environmental Studies group, still in the meadow, danced a celebratory jig, shouting and laughing, slapping each other on the back. The rest of the Turnham Malpas supporters shook hands with each other and congratulated themselves on a victory well won. The council representatives went off to speak to the police and the press, and Blair unlocked the gate and asked for space to drive out.
Gareth came to Ralph, shook his hand and said, ‘Thanks for that. We knew about the Hedgerow Regulations, and suspected he’d bribed someone.’
‘Oh, he had, well and truly. They were very busy lining their pockets. Now I think it’s time I took my dear brave wife home.’
‘She’s been a splendid fighter this morning, all credit due to her. I don’t suppose you would consider joining our group, would you? You’d be a fantastic asset with your … connections?’
Ralph shook his head. ‘No, thank you. It’s not quite my thing. But I do wish you every success. Come, Muriel, my dear. ‘He raised his voice and asked for silence.’ Thank you to everyone who turned out this morning. I wish it had never been necessary, but I wasn’t entirely sure that the
council would come this morning so I had to let the protest go ahead just in case they didn’t. We’ve won! We’ve saved this precious hedge! Thank you, everyone, thank you very much indeed. Splendid job you’ve done!’
They gathered round and shook his hand, thanking him for his intervention. ‘Not at all, the least I could do.’
Caroline called out, ‘Three cheers for Muriel!’
‘And for you, Dr Harris,’ Willie added.
Muriel had decided to go to bed early that night, because she was emotionally and physically exhausted: having summoned up so much of her resources there seemed to be nothing left of Muriel at all.
‘My dear, why not get ready for bed and I will make us a drink and you can come downstairs to drink it before you finally expire? Sitting in front of the fire will be very calming.’
‘They won’t use that picture of me laid in front of the tractor, will they?’
Ralph smiled. ‘I expect they most likely will.’
‘I said unforgivable things to Mr Fitch, you know. But I meant them. They were true.’
‘You told me.’
Muriel shook her head. ‘It was such a dastardly trick after I had believed him. I must be a complete simpleton not to have realised what he was up to.’ Muriel sighed. ‘I’m going to get ready for bed like you suggest. I’ll have Horlicks tonight, please, dear.’
She was half-way down the stairs, wearing her best dressing-gown and matching nightgown when the doorbell rang.
‘Ralph! Who can that be at this time of night?’
When Ralph opened the door the very last person she ever expected to see was standing on the doorstep.
‘Craddock! Good evening, do come in.’
Muriel half hesitated and debated about whether to turn tail and run back upstairs again, she couldn’t face him not after what she’d said, but Mr Fitch caught sight of her and called, ‘Please, Muriel, I need to see you.’
‘But I’m …’
‘That’s of little consequence tonight. Please.’
Ralph courteously invited him to sit down, and after having seated Muriel in her favourite chair he sat down in his own winged chair and waited.
Mr Fitch fidgeted with his hands for a moment, head down. He crossed his legs, raised his head and said, ‘I have come to offer you both the deepest of apologies. I behaved in a disgraceful manner this morning and I am deeply ashamed. You, Muriel, said I wasn’t a gentleman and never would be …’ Muriel cringed at his words. ‘You were right, I’m not.’ Mr Fitch held up his hand to silence Muriel, who appeared about to interrupt him. ‘No, let me finish. I am thoroughly ashamed of myself. I always will try to bring the business world to Turnham Malpas and, of course, that’s not right. It has no place here. Only loyalty and affection and understanding have a place. Those three qualities will achieve far more. How I could ever have contemplated building houses on Rector’s Meadow I will never know. I’ve been for a walk right round it this afternoon, by myself so that I could think, and I had a revelation. Don’t laugh, I did, even hard-boiled old Fitch can have his weaker moments!’ He smiled wryly. ‘I saw all of what it was you
people talk about. I concede that I am merely a custodian of the land, for the land will still be here centuries after I am dust, therefore I must do my best by it, like so many men before me.’
Ralph nodded his agreement.
‘Well, I understand that fully now. I apologise most sincerely to you, Ralph, for calling you what I did, I was seriously at fault and I have no excuse for it. I apologise to you, Muriel, for my behaviour, it was unseemly, as you said. Will you forgive me?’
Ralph stood up and went across to shake his hand. His voice was rough with emotion as he said, ‘I accept your apology. Let’s forget it, shall we?’
‘No, not forget, but let’s put it behind us, perhaps.’
Ralph nodded.
Mr Fitch got to his feet and went to Muriel. He took her hand from the arm of the chair where it was resting and put it to his lips. ‘You are not only a lady by name but by nature too. Next time I face a moral dilemma I shall consult you. It will be your job to keep me on the straight and narrow.’ He smiled down at her, and she smiled up at him.
‘I’ll say good night then.’ Mr Fitch nodded his head at the two of them and let himself out.
