Village Fortunes (Turnham Malpas 17) (24 page)

‘My God! Are you sure? I mean, heavens above!’

‘I have been very thorough. That’s my way.’

‘But we went through a ceremony together, I remember it distinctly.’

‘But then she was already married when she went through the marriage ceremony with you. It wasn’t legal. So you have never been married, until you married Kate, that is. So to add to the fun, Graham and I are also illegitimate.’

‘God! Is there no end to the woman’s treachery? Best try to forget her, leave her be, it’s nothing less than she deserves. You and Graham have Cosmo, and now me, so forget her. I can’t believe it.’ Craddock looked away into the distance, as though seeing someone Michael couldn’t. ‘She was so beautiful, physically so beautiful . . . I’d no hint she was going to leave, you know, none at all. I was frantic. I rang the police, asked the neighbours, went to the school next day to ask what they knew, did everything I could, but no one knew anything. I was devastated.’

With a wry smile on his face, Michael asked, ‘Well, you were the one who said she wasn’t worth bothering about.’ He raised his eyebrows at Craddock.

Craddock took possession of himself again saying, ‘Yes. She isn’t. Now Kate suggested I had cake to finish off with today. Are you a cake man?’

‘I am indeed.’

So together father and son enjoyed the cake made with love by Kate. It tasted delightful and the atmosphere brightened. Afterwards, the two of them went for a drink in the Royal Oak, Craddock almost bursting with pride to be entering with his son. He was disappointed to find most of the clientele were still in the dining room finishing lunch. But Craddock did have the pleasure of introducing Michael to Georgie, Dicky and Mary-Lee, who greeted him with great enthusiasm which gratified Craddock enormously.

He and Michael had a quiet drink sitting companionably at the table beside the inglenook fireplace, discussing business and computers and Graham’s family. Michael opened up enough to tell Craddock about the house he’d just bought and the work it had entailed, and Craddock talked about the heyday of his business enterprises and how much he’d enjoyed it all.

They went round then to the store where Michael was introduced to Jimbo and then over to the school when the children were leaving for home. Kate was standing at the main door talking to them as they left. Her mind was so preoccupied with the children that it took her a moment to recognise Michael, but when she did she gave him a gentle hug and a peck on his cheek, which embarrassed him to death but delighted Craddock.

‘Why, Michael! What a wonderful surprise.’

‘Hello, Kate. Just thought I’d come down to see . . . Craddock.’

‘And why not? Has he looked after you, have you had lunch?’ Kate turned to speak to one of her boys. ‘Shane, you’ve forgotten your painting.’

‘Oops,’ said Shane, and immediately turned back into school.

‘Yes, he’s given me lunch, we’ve been to the pub for a drink and I’ve been introduced to Jimbo at the store, then we came to see you. Graham and Anita send you their best wishes, Kate.’

‘Well, now that is lovely. Thank you. Are you able to stay overnight? I’d love it if you could.’

Michael shook his head. ‘No. I have to be back to work first thing tomorrow. It’s just a flying visit.’

Three of the school children were playing football on their way out of the playground, and for some unimaginable reason, and totally out of character, Craddock Fitch went to join them. Kate and Michael watched in silence. Then Kate said, ‘Thank you for coming. I do appreciate it; he’s so pleased.’

‘I wanted to. I don’t think he minds, does he?’

‘Of course he doesn’t mind; he’s delighted. He’s so glad to have found you.’

‘Must be off now.’ Michael made to go but Kate stopped him.

‘Please, don’t go without saying goodbye to him. You’re welcome to come back any time, to stay for the weekend if you can.’

Michael joined in the football for a few minutes and then after speaking to Craddock for a moment he left. The football game came to an end, Kate went back inside the school and Craddock followed her. He sat in the visitor’s chair in her office while she tidied her desk.

When he’d caught his breath back he said softly, ‘That was nice. Just as if he’d been at school all day and I’d come to take him home. His face relaxed, you know, as if he’d lost a lot of years and was a boy again. Nice that. He’s been doing some research and found out about his mother. He has told me that what I thought was a marriage ceremony for Stella and I, wasn’t, because she was already married to someone else. And so we were never married, she and I, but this means that you and I
are
married. Which makes me feel much better, and I’m glad. I shan’t bother to go look for her, it’s all far too late for that. Ready now, Kate?’

Johnny Templeton favoured walking young Charles by the lake this particular Saturday morning and the two of them were making great progress. They often came this way as the walk was the exact length that Charles could manage without having to ask for a ride on his father’s shoulders, and mostly he preferred the freedom of walking. Johnny talked a lot about what they saw, squirrels and birds, ducks and coots, flowers and trees, and Charles did his best but at thirteen months he didn’t have much conversation. Though he could say ‘Chris’ very clearly now. Why this was so when he’d not seen him very much during his short life no one knew, but he could say it, and could even recognise him in a photograph. This Saturday morning he began to shout out, ‘Chris! Chris!’

‘No, Charles, Chris isn’t here, he’s gone home.’

But still he kept saying it. Johnny took his attention from making sure Charles didn’t accidentally fall into the water and looked up. There he was. Chris. Standing close to the boat house, watching them.

‘Chris! What are you doing here?’

‘Hoping I can beg breakfast.’ They clasped each other briefly, as Johnny said, ‘Of course you can.’

‘Slept in here last night.’ Chris banged his fist on the boathouse wall.

‘Why didn’t you knock us up? What time did you get here?’

‘Plane got delayed due to bad weather, and I didn’t get here until about two a.m. But I found the boat house unlocked and kipped down on that battered sofa in there, covered myself up with an old sail.’

‘Good thing you did, it was cold last night. Come on, we’ll turn back and get you some breakfast.’

‘How’s Alice, and Ralph?’

‘Alice is fine, absolutely fine. You won’t recognise Ralph; he’s almost three months old and I’m certain he’s going to be a boxer. Why are you here, Chris?’

‘No reason, felt like a change.’

‘You’re a liar, Chris. I’ve known you too long, I can always tell. So don’t do it.’

‘Do you need anything from the store? I’ll go if you like.’

‘It’s Fran you’ve come to see, isn’t it?’

‘No.’

‘Please don’t. Not to me. Tell me the truth. Right now, where no one can hear you.’

There was a silence. Charles asked to be picked up by Chris, Johnny asked the question again, and by the time they’d reached the gravel in front of Turnham House, Chris decided to tell Johnny the truth.

‘Don’t tell anyone, especially Alice, but I’ve been texting Fran, begging her, well, no, not quite begging, rather
asking
her to come to Brazil for a holiday, and I’ll pay the fare, first class knowing that would tempt her, but she won’t say yes. So I’ve come and I intend taking her back with me.’

‘Oh, Chris. If she won’t, she won’t. You can’t make her.’

‘She must. I’ve decided. What is there to keep her here? A shop worth nothing, and some shows and parties in that Old Barn thing in the grounds of Turnham House that you own. If she won’t come, you could always give him notice on the barn and that would finish him. He needs the money the barn earns, not that it’s much by our standards.’

‘What the blazes are you on about? The Old Barn gives work to lots of people in these villages, and it gives me a sound regular rent every quarter, never late. And thanks very much but I don’t intend giving Jimbo notice, not for you, nor anyone else.’

‘The rent is peanuts to you. Here, take this little monstrosity of yours and get me some breakfast.’ Chris strode into the house without even a backward glance. Charles cried at the roughness of his rejection, and Johnny was left appalled. He’d never known Chris to be so . . . he couldn’t find words to describe his mood.

Alice was feeding Ralph so Johnny got Chris’s breakfast and sat with him after he’d put Charles to bed for his morning nap. ‘You know you can’t get your own way just because you’re who you are. Round here, being well connected, wealthy, and having more than enough charm for five men doesn’t work, as you’ve to
earn
their good will. And I for one won’t put up with you trying to persuade Fran against her wishes. After what happened to her, due entirely to your arrogance I might add, why should she do as you say, for heaven’s sake?’

Chris glared at Johnny and then deliberately avoided his eye.

‘Taken your bat home then? OK. You clear the table as I’ve a load of emails to answer. Alice says usual room. Sorry for losing my temper, but I’m trying to build good relations with the people round here, and you seem determined to undermine my efforts. The further away you stay the better I shall like it, believe me. If Dad were alive he’d say the same.’

‘They’re such . . . such piffling little people, I don’t know why you bother.’ Chris stormed off, leaving the table littered with the remains of his breakfast. Johnny heard him showering and despaired of Chris ever doing the honourable thing if it didn’t suit his purposes.

Alice came across Chris as he marched through the hall on his way out. ‘Hi, Alice. I’ll borrow Johnny’s car, as I’m just going into the village.’ He dangled Johnny’s car keys for Alice to see. ‘Are you well?’

‘Yes, thanks, and you?’

‘Better when I’ve got over the jet-lag. Won’t need lunch.’ He charged off without another word.

That man is arrogant beyond belief, thought Alice. To get her own back she quickly phoned the store. It was Tom who answered. ‘Good morning, Tom. It’s Alice Templeton speaking. Is there a Charter-Plackett in today?’

‘Will Fran do?’

‘Yes. Hello. It’s Alice, Fran . . . Just to let you know Chris arrived during the night, and he’s just shot out in Johnny’s car heading for the village. Thought I’d let you know . . . You can count on Johnny’s and my support. Take care . . . Bye.’

Alice stood in the bay window of their sitting room staring out over towards Home Farm and wishing passionately that Chris hadn’t come. She wondered if her own two sons would be as different from each other as Johnny and Chris were. You just didn’t know, did you, how they would turn out. Well, she’d see to it there was no room in her own family for jealousy and arrogance of the kind she recognised in Chris. She decided to check on Charles and Ralph, although she’d checked Ralph twice since she’d laid him down to sleep. She slipped her hand under the blankets to make sure his feet were warm and they were. Charles, upstairs in his cot, had flung his blankets off but was snug even so. She’d found motherhood suited her and intended to eventually have four. But she’d leave a gap for now, and then in a few years have two more.

Alice went to play the piano which always brought solace to her soul, but somehow Chris and the Charter-Placketts kept intruding into her peace of mind.

No wonder. For there was no peace there whatsoever. Bel had left to do her lunchtime stint in the Royal Oak, Tom was doing the till and the post office, and Fran, after speaking to Alice, had simply vanished.

‘Good morning. Bill, isn’t it?’ said Chris as he stormed in through the door, amused to find the entire store empty of customers.

‘No, it’s Tom, actually.’

‘Right. Fran in?’

‘She was a moment ago, but she’s just gone for a spot of lunch.’ Tom smiled though he felt more like socking this chap right the way round the green for what he did to Fran.
Is Fran in?
Huh!

‘I’ll have a coffee while I wait. It’s early for lunch, isn’t it?’

Tom shrugged. ‘Well, we have to fit it in when we can when we’re short-handed.’

‘Shorthanded. You’re not that busy; I could run this place single-handed. Where’s Jimbo?’

‘Where Jimbo is, is his affair, not mine, nor yours.’

‘Oh, I see. That’s how it is. I’ll get my own coffee then, shall I?’

‘Customers usually do. It’s freshly made.’

‘OK.’

Chris sat himself down to drink his coffee, on the chairs allocated for the purpose. When he’d finished his drink, ignoring the carefully placed rubbish bin intended for empty cups and discarded sugar wrappers, he left the empty paper cup beside the machine, and the wrappers and the two little cream cartons he’d emptied on the other chair, and he stood up. ‘I’ll call at the house, see if anyone’s in. Bye, Bill.’

He tried the knob on the Charter-Plackett front door and found the door was unlocked. ‘Fran, sweetheart, it’s me, Chris. Bit jet-lagged but feeling on top of the world at the prospect of seeing you. Where are you?’

He got no reply even though he called her name three times.

He found her sitting cross-legged on the rush mat in the kitchen playing with . . . a kitten? A very charming kitten, but kittens were not part of his life. Chris almost shuddered at the thought of touching it.

‘Who’s this then?’

‘She’s mine. She’s called Bonnie. Don’t you think she’s beautiful?’ He noticed she didn’t even show any surprise, nor did she look up at him when she spoke. Who had told her he was in Turnham Malpas? Alice?

‘Not especially, no. It’s me, darling Fran. Chris. Look at me, please.’

The kitten, with Fran’s attention focused on it, ignored him and, much to his annoyance and despite his request, so did Fran.

‘I’ve come a long way to see you. How about a kiss?’

‘No.’

‘No? Why not, Fran?’

She didn’t reply, just carried on tickling the kitten behind its ear which it obviously found delightfully pleasurable.

‘I will not be ignored, Fran. For goodness sake, stop playing with that little monster and at least
look
at me.’