Village Fortunes (Turnham Malpas 17) (4 page)

BOOK: Village Fortunes (Turnham Malpas 17)
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Meanwhile Jimbo had got himself in a tangle with the bouquet and Fran had to rescue him. ‘Look, Dad, I’ll see to it. Leave it to me.’

‘OK. OK. I will. Chris will you allow me to give you a bottle of champagne? To wet the baby’s head?’

Fran, her face shielded by the sheet of coloured cellophane she was using to wrap the flowers, smiled, recognising her dad’s business technique for what it was.

‘That’s mighty generous of you, James, mighty generous. Thank you. I’m sure Alice will be able to have a sip, just a sip I know, but it’ll make all the difference to her. Can’t leave her out of the celebrations, can we, when she’s done all the hard work? Thank you, Fran, you’ve made a gilt purse out of a sow’s ear, well and truly.’ As Fran handed the bouquet to him Chris slipped an arm round her shoulders and chastely kissed her cheek. ‘Beautiful, just beautiful. Thank you.’

‘I’ve just had a thought, I don’t think the hospital allows flowers?’

‘They will, I’ll make sure of that.’ His supreme confidence in his ability to flout hospital rules amused them all. They just knew he’d get round them some how; he was that kind of man.

Chris left in a flurry, opening the back door of his vivid red sports car and carefully placing the bouquet on the back seat, laying the champagne on the front seat; then he tooted his horn several times and left. Everything always felt flat once Chris had gone. Fran went off home, Tom took his afternoon break, Jimbo cleared away the buckets the flowers had been standing in, and silence fell.

 

Jimbo sat on the seat provided for the person in charge of the till and contemplated
money
. Obviously Johnny had money; money of his own, and also the money and properties left him by Sir Ralph. It seemed to Jimbo that Chris had money too, but all of his came from the hotel business they owned back in Brazil. Money on a scale that no one in the village had now nor ever would have, not even Craddock Fitch in his prime. Jimbo liked Johnny and when Chris joined him up at the big house he’d imagined it would be like having two Johnnies instead of one. But it wasn’t. Chris flaunted his money and wanted everyone to admire him in a way that Johnny never did. Chris’s personality was bigger and more brash, louder and less likeable. But at the same time one couldn’t help liking him, and yet one resented him too. Johnny was safely and happily married. But Chris was a loose cannon and one never quite knew what he would do next. Johnny came to church frequently, but Chris, Jimbo imagined, probably didn’t even know where it was. Johnny endeavoured to be part of village life, Chris lived in the village with Johnny and Alice, but as for taking part in it . . .

You kind of knew where you were with Johnny, but not Chris, thought Jimbo. This roving creature supposedly looking for a hotel chain to buy in Britain disappeared during the week and then turned up sometimes at the weekend and then did his disappearing trick again on Monday morning, or sometimes he wouldn’t leave until Wednesday or even Thursday, and so no one knew where he was from one minute to the next. Jimbo was drawn to Chris’s sharp business acumen but at the same time he couldn’t trust him and he couldn’t put his finger on why not. Johnny obviously thought the world of him, so maybe he ought to accept him, and Chris was certainly one of his best customers. That was what the free bottle of champagne was about, keeping Chris on-side for the money he brought to the store. Every couple of weeks he would come in and buy expensive items of food to take back to the big house as his contribution to the housekeeping. He bought the very best of everything. Ordered special items for collection on Friday and more often than not the bill came to well over a hundred pounds. How Johnny, Alice and Chris managed to eat all he bought Jimbo couldn’t imagine. It must have lasted well into the next week when Chris wasn’t even there to help consume it. Still, if that was what he wanted, Jimbo wasn’t one to complain.

Customers were few that half hour. Two people came in with parcels to post, hoping they hadn’t missed the last collection; and one for a birthday card, and could Jimbo lend him a pen to write it while he was there, and had he missed the post? And he’d need a stamp, please. Well, one thing was for certain, Jimbo wouldn’t get rich on that little lot. But he could get rich on Chris, and so maybe he’d better change his attitude to Johnny’s dearly beloved brother, Jimbo acknowledged to himself.

 

While Jimbo was sitting at the till, Chris was at the hospital charming the nurses. He’d swept into Maternity where he’d been mistaken, twice, for a new father before they finally connected him to Alice; and twice he’d been told he couldn’t leave the flowers as they were banned. But he’d cheerfully listened and then begged so humbly to be allowed to at least show them to his sister-in-law that he had been allowed to do so on the understanding . . . ‘But of course I will, I wouldn’t dare disobey. Room four you say?’ and smiled so sweetly that the previously grumpy nurse fell under his spell.

‘Alice! You clever girl. Let me give you a kiss. Excellent work. Johnny’s like a dog with two tails. Where is this beautiful new nephew of mine?’

‘Right beside me, in the cot.’

Chris bent over the cot and gently kissed the baby’s forehead, tenderly cupping his face in his hand. For one brief moment Alice saw the real Chris, then he disappeared as quickly as he’d come. ‘My word, Alice, he’s a beauty and not half. Still, with a beautiful mother like yourself, what else could he be but handsome? He’s a typical Templeton, isn’t he? Like us three: good-looking and full of himself. He’s strong, look, he’s holding my finger. What a grip and not yet a day old. My word.’

Chris turned his attention to Alice, sitting himself down on the bed, holding her hand and bending over to kiss her. ‘Wonderful job you’ve done. I understand from Johnny you were extremely brave.’

‘I don’t know about brave, I just did my best.’

‘I’m sure you were brilliant, exhausted but brilliant. I won’t stay long, I’m not very good with hospitals and illness. Do you know that I’ve never spent a single night in hospital? Always been fit and well all my life. Broke my arm once playing polo but I refused to stay in overnight and made them sort it out there and then so I could sleep at home. I’ve brought my brave girl champagne, see. No, don’t protest. Just one little sip with me, and then we’ll give the rest to the nurses. I insist. Can’t have you missing all the fun.’

Alice, who had understood what made Chris tick within five minutes of first meeting him, said, ‘OK then. Just one little sip.’ She made to struggle out of bed to get a glass from the washbasin but Chris wouldn’t allow it.

‘Stay right there, I’ve borrowed glasses from the nurses.’ He inspected them as though making sure they were clean. The cork popped and hit the ceiling making a slight dent. ‘Don’t worry, they’ll never notice, and if they do you must claim complete innocence. Those gorgeous blue eyes of yours will do the trick.’ He poured a full glass for himself and just a drop for her. ‘There we are! To Johnny, to Alice and to whatever it is you’re going to call him.’

‘To Johnny and to our second son.’ Alice sipped the champagne.

Chris, being Chris, swallowed his in seconds. ‘You know, Alice, I’m looking after Johnny so don’t fret. He’s the sort of man who needs looking after. So stay here as long as you feel you need, or as long as they will allow you to, because your other half is being well taken care of, and little Charles too. He’s an absolute delight, believe me.’

Alice knew exactly what that meant. Chris would spend a lot of time telling Johnny how wonderfully Johnny coped with his domestic responsibilities, how well he cared for Charles and how wonderfully his cooking skills had improved, but never lift a finger himself to help. Decorative was how Alice described Chris in her own mind, and he was certainly that. She’d thought Johnny was handsome but when she saw Chris and Nicholas at the wedding, resplendent in their morning suits standing either side of Johnny, she knew it was Chris who won the prize for good looks. What’s more, he knew it.

‘You are giving Johnny a hand, aren’t you? There’s such a lot for him to do. Charles is still a baby and needs a lot of care.’

‘Of course I am. I’m running about like a scalded cat as my mother would say. About your flowers, they tell me they’re not allowed in the wards, but I’ve persuaded them to put them on the windowsills in the corridor, well I will have before I go.’ Chris began to fidget. She knew he wanted to leave so she declared herself exhausted and said she’d better get some sleep while the baby slept, and so would he mind . . .?

So Chris kissed her again and trundled away with the flowers and the champagne, glad to escape. Unattached, unencumbered women were the ones he liked the best. All the domesticity Johnny had so eagerly taken on board wouldn’t suit him at all. He liked the fun side of life, not the responsible side of it. Heaving the pushchair into the car, changing nappies, up in the night when he longed for uninterrupted sleep (which was his due), wasn’t for Christopher Templeton. No thanks.

Chris went to charm the nurses into placing the flowers where he wanted them. They agreed to put the flowers on the windowsills, though it was strictly against the rules, and the nurses thoroughly enjoyed their illicit champagne while persuading Chris to reveal all about his wonderfully exciting life in Rio. Chris played the glamorous chap from distant shores to the very best of his ability. He really was good fun, they said. And Chris thought they were too.

By the time he got back Johnny was giving Charles his bedtime bottle and calming him down ready for bed.

‘Hi there. You look a picture of contented fatherhood, Johnny. The baby is great, so like Charles. I’ve done my duty, kissed and congratulated the proud mother, and done my uncle bit with the nurses to make sure Alice gets lots of attention. You’re a lucky man, you know that? You’ve certainly chosen a beauty with Alice.’

‘Yes, I know that.’ Johnny put little Charles over his shoulder and cuddled him. ‘Chris, what about this hotel chain you’re out looking for? You never say anything. Not seen one suitable?’

Chris flung himself down on the sofa. ‘One or two, but none that make me want to stay there. I think that’s always a good sign about the hotels if you yourself actually want to do that. Saw four in Cornwall, Land’s End way. But they’d all need refurbishing and I mean
completely
refurbishing. And they were asking a ridiculous price.’

‘But they might be the ones to go for. Got any brochures?’

‘Yes, I’ll get them out. When will dinner be?’

‘Going out?’

‘I’m hoping to.’

‘Won’t be long. It’s in the oven. Here hold Charles for me and don’t let him wriggle down on to the floor now that I’ve put his clean pyjamas on. Right? I’ll go check the dinner.’

Rather ungraciously Chris agreed to play uncle. Then the warm, comforting presence of Charles’s body against his own surprised him. He hadn’t expected to be stirred by a small boy who had decided that standing on his uncle’s thighs and jumping up and down provided him with some much-needed exercise. He brought Charles’s face close to his own and for a brief moment they both stared at each other, Chris was moved to kiss his nephew, which motivated Charles to head-butt him.

‘Ouch! That hurt!’

Johnny came back in with the oven cloth in his hand. ‘It’s ready. I’ll take Charles and put him in his cot, and then we’ll eat.’

‘He’s just head-butted me. He’s going to be a rogue is this one, and not half. Here you are.’ Chris handed his nephew over and examined his forehead in the mirror. ‘No bruise yet but there will be, I’m sure. Why in heaven’s name don’t you have some domestic help? Heavens above, you can afford it.’

‘I know we can, but I had great difficulty in persuading Alice to live here and so I’m taking it one step at a time. If I rush things and get help when she doesn’t agree, the balloon could go up.’

‘I’ve never known a woman who wouldn’t be glad to hand over all the hard work to someone else.’

‘Alice isn’t like the normal run of women. Well, not your kind of women, anyway.’

‘Well, at any rate, it’s you doing all the work and not me, and I’m perfectly willing to let you do it.’

‘As ever. Won’t be long.’ Johnny tossed the oven cloth to Chris. ‘Here get the casserole out, the vegetables are ready drained.’

Though the oven cloth was scrupulously clean Chris took hold of it as though it was covered in thick grease. ‘OK. Got the message. Dining room? No watching TV while we eat?’

‘No, I’ve already laid the table.’

Chris shrugged and departed for the kitchen. He opened the wine and approved of the label, got the casserole out of the oven along with the man-sized baking potatoes, took them into the dining room, fished out the plates warming in the oven. He stood back to check the table. Serving spoon? Which drawer? He’d no idea.

While the two of them ate the casserole, which he had to admit was delicious, Chris posed a question. ‘So you’ve been outmanoeuvred, that’s not like you. You’re normally the one who does the outmanoeuvring. Like when you got this place back.’

‘True. But the difference is I love Alice like I’ve never loved a woman before, and that makes the difference.’

‘Got it bad then?’

‘I suppose I must have.’ Johnny laughed and then asked, ‘And you, what about you? I’m thirty-four and you’re only two years younger. Isn’t it time . . .?’

‘And Nicholas is twenty-nine and already married with two children. You get more like mother every day.’

‘How is she? I heard you speaking to her earlier. Really, how is she?’ Johnny waited for the reply.

‘Right now? In remission.’

‘Good. That’s good news.’

Chris offered to refill Johnny’s wine glass for him.

‘No, thanks.’

‘I’ve known the time when you’d have opened a second bottle when it was just the two of us. Economising?’ The mocking look on Chris’s face reminded Johnny of their younger days.

‘I may have inherited pots of money besides what I earn from the hotels back home, but that doesn’t mean I have to
throw
it away. Unlike you I have commitments: employees’ wages to pay, a house to restore, the estate to bring up to speed, the farm to modernise, children to feed, school fees to think about. This woman I suspect you’re seeing? Someone I know? Who is she?’

BOOK: Village Fortunes (Turnham Malpas 17)
2.08Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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