Village Fortunes (Turnham Malpas 17) (6 page)

Grandmama Charter-Plackett invited the pair of them to lunch. ‘I expect you’ve been up since dawn, so shall we say noon for lunch in my cottage and then we can talk?
Really
talk.’ She strode purposefully round to the store, collected one of the larger shopping baskets and began planning the meal. She had to admit Merc’s fashion sense appalled her, and she found her lavish, colourful make-up intolerable, but nevertheless she liked her. In fact it was more than liking really, as she held Merc in great affection and was glad to have her back. As for Ford, he reminded her of her late husband. He was just enough of a rogue to delight her like her husband had, and he was ultra charming with it.

As the clock in her sitting room chimed noon, Grandmama propped open her front door and hurried back into the kitchen to check the vegetables. She hoped they wouldn’t be late or the leeks would be mushy and the chicken pie crust sacrificial. Then she heard the brisk footstep which characterised Ford, and the pair of them were calling through the open door, ‘Can we come in?’

Merc opened wide her arms in welcome and enclosed Grandmama in them. ‘So lovely of you to invite us. Food is the last essential on our list, and I was beginning to wonder what we would do as both of us have arrived here with scarcely any money in our pockets, having forgotten to call at the cashpoint before we set off. Just one of those things.’ She turned to look at Ford who was hanging about behind her, hesitating over whether to come in. ‘Ford, for heaven’s sake, we’re amongst friends, come in, come in.’ And so Ford followed her in.

It was only when they were in her kitchen that Grandmama noticed the change in Ford. ‘Why! Ford. You’ve lost weight. You must have been very disciplined. How much have you lost?’

‘He’s lost four stone. Doesn’t he look different?’

‘Different, I should say he does! What a change.’ Then it occurred to Grandmama. ‘Was it prison, was that what made you lose it?’

Ford nodded. ‘It was. The food, I couldn’t eat it. Nothing wrong with it, in fact it was rather good, but I just couldn’t eat it. Thanks for the invite; we didn’t quite know how people would receive us.’

‘How people would receive you? Why with open arms, of course. We’re all delighted. You’ve served your sentence and that’s that, all over and done with.’ Grandmama squeezed his arm to reassure him. ‘You’re out now. Come and try my home-made chicken pie with jacket potatoes and buttered leeks. Sit down. What would you like to drink? I’ve got cider, orange juice or wine. Which is it to be? Merc?’

‘Orange juice for me.’

‘And me. We don’t drink at lunchtime, as we’re trying to cut down.’

‘Orange juice it is. Oh, you’ve no idea how glad we all are that you’re back where you belong. Bring us up to date with the news, then.’

Merc helped herself to the home-made chicken pie, buttered leeks, and a jacket potato, and picked up her knife and fork. She loved every mouthful. They were home at last, and it seemed there’d be no recriminations about prison or anything else. Ah! Most important. She had to know. ‘Is the embroidery class still going? Evie’s, you know.’

‘Of course it is! More pie, Merc? They can’t wait for you to join them again; they’ve talked of nothing else since we first heard you were coming back. Another jacket potato? Ford, what about you? Help yourself to the leeks. I hate leftovers.’ Ford was remarkably quiet and not his usual chatty self at all. Maybe he’d feel better after a few days. Moving house could be a great strain. Somehow Grandmama found that the thin, strained-looking Ford didn’t suit the chap she’d known who’d been so full of himself and full of energy when he was fat. Ford, thin and withdrawn, didn’t seem right. He was, well, really a very different man. Outspoken as she always was, Grandmama ventured to be up-front with her comments. ‘You’ve nothing to fear, you know, Ford. None of us care one jot that you’ve been to prison. We all consider it a big mistake.’

Merc looked up and swiftly intervened when she realised Ford wasn’t prepared to reply. ‘He is innocent but we just couldn’t prove it.’ She reached across and patted Ford’s nearest skinny leg. ‘It’s made life very difficult, you know, not being able to prove it.’

‘I see.’ Grandmama was stunned. She’d been very prepared for being magnanimous about his guilt and being in prison, and here they were claiming he was innocent. Well, maybe he was. Barry from the estate had said how difficult it was for Ford to know whether the metal he’d bought was stolen or genuine.

‘Help yourself to more juice if you wish, and I’ll clear the table. Then we’ll have pudding. It’s lemon passion with fresh cream.’

Merc and Grandmama chattered on about what had happened in the village since they’d done their moonlight flit but still Ford hardly said a word. He enjoyed the pudding and had two cups of coffee, and then out of the blue he said he must go. ‘Got to supervise everything. You never know.’ He left a big silence behind him. Eventually Merc said, ‘He’s taken it all very badly. But now we’re back where we love to live, he’ll soon pick up, I’m sure.’

‘I’m sure he will. Everyone is delighted you’re back and by Monday afternoon you’ll know I’m speaking the truth. By the way, they’re starting a new project, the embroidery group are, this very Monday. They’ve been very secretive about it.’

‘Come back at the right time then, haven’t I?’

‘Yes, you certainly have.’

After Merc had gone, Grandmama cleared the kitchen, set her dishwasher going and then hurried over to the store to see her favourite daughter-in-law. Well, her only daughter-in-law, Harriet. She found her in the kitchen at the back, as she guessed she might, making things to fill up the dessert freezer at the front of the store.

‘Trifle? That looks wonderful. Single portions? What a good idea. I’ll take a couple when I go. I love trifle.’ Grandmama established herself on the chair Harriet used when she’d been on her feet for too long, and before she could say a word Harriet asked, ‘Enjoyed your company?’

‘Well, really, you can do nothing in this village without everyone knowing before you’ve even thought of it yourself. Yes, I did. Apparently . . .’ The two members of staff who were assisting Harriet stopped working and came to listen. ‘They claim that Ford was innocent and he went to prison when he shouldn’t have. Ford has lost four stone in weight. I don’t know what that is in new money; you young girls will know I expect. But whatever you calculate it in, it’s a lot of weight. Very quiet he was, not himself at all. You won’t recognise him. Merc’s just the same though, and dying to get back to embroidering again.’

‘They all say that. “A miscarriage of justice” it was, he’s entirely innocent of any crime. Oh yes.’

‘Harriet! How unkind. I’ve no reason to disbelieve them.’

‘Makes everyone feel sorry for them though, and it let’s them slip back into life as respectable people when they are patently not.’

‘Harriet! You’re working too hard, you must be. You need a holiday. Tom’s good at being in charge and so you persuade Jimbo to fly you somewhere exotic. By the way, how’s my Fran? She hasn’t been round to my house for weeks.’

‘No. We scarcely see her nowadays. Always out.’

Grandmama sat up attentively. ‘Boyfriend?’

‘Yes.’

‘Who is it?’

‘No idea.’

Grandmama shot to her feet. ‘No idea? Hasn’t Jimbo questioned him about his intentions?’

‘We haven’t met him.’

‘
Not met him
! Huh! Whyever not? You should have.’

‘You don’t do things like that now, Katherine.’

‘I suppose not. Still, Fran has always been very sensible. I expect he’s thoroughly respectable.’

Harriet didn’t answer straightaway, and when she did Grandmama was not reassured.

‘We will meet him, I expect, all in good time,’ Harriet said.

‘I think you sound worried.’

Harriet finished the last of the individual trifles with a glace cherry and looked up at Grandmama, who, having known her daughter-in-law for almost thirty years, recognised the underlying worry in Harriet’s eyes. ‘Tell her I’m feeling lonely and need some company. I want to see her,’ said Grandmama.

‘Will do. Can’t promise she’ll come though.’

‘If she doesn’t, I shall come to her. Right, I’m going. Bye, everybody.’

Not seen the boyfriend. It sounded very suspicious, and as though Fran was ashamed of him. And then, as though the spirit world had called Fran up for her, Fran appeared from Church Lane just as Grandmama was crossing the road from the store. She was on the old bike Jimbo kept for local deliveries. Fran slid to a halt but stayed on the saddle. ‘Hello, Grandmama, fancy seeing you.’

‘Seeing as I live just round the corner from the store . . .’

‘Well, yes. I’ve been busy.’

‘Delivering?’

‘Yes, someone down the Culworth Road is just home with a new baby and I’ve delivered a present from a friend. Groceries and such.’

‘I see. I’ve just been saying to your mother that I haven’t seen much of you lately and she says that could be your boyfriend’s fault.’ Grandmama left a significant pause, hoping for a revelatory reply.

Fran shrugged. ‘You know what it’s like.’

‘I don’t. I haven’t got a boyfriend. Those days are long gone.’

‘Well, yes.’

Drat the girl. Her honesty had always been the stumbling block between them. ‘I have to be honest, Fran. You and I have always been frank with each other and that’s why we didn’t get on well when you were younger. Is he so
disreputable
that you daren’t let me meet him?’

‘No, he is not. Got to go. Busy, busy. Bye, Katherine.’

If there was anything more calculated to anger Grandmama, it was one of her grandchildren addressing her by her first name, and, as she was angry to begin with, she was steaming with fury as Fran cycled off. Using her first name was a sure sign that Fran was being defiant. Obviously the boyfriend wasn’t suitable for her, and she didn’t want the family to find out who he was. That’s what came of her not getting into the independent school her sister went to. Grandmama had always known that comprehensive school in Culworth was totally lacking in moral fibre. Well, if Fran thought she was going to keep it a secret, she was very wrong. Her Grandmama had time on her hands, even if her parents hadn’t. She’d find out.

An impromptu party took place that very night in the saloon bar at the Royal Oak. It had been in Georgie’s mind but it hadn’t really materialised until the habitués of the old table with the settle down one side had rung up one after the other, and suggested it.

‘Shall we, Dicky?’

‘Why not? Best be prepared, you know what they’re like round here. Any excuse for a party.’

The village telephone network went into action and the information was passed round the houses, from right down the Culworth Road, along Church Lane, past Glebe House, down Shepherd’s Hill, as far as Dottie Foskett’s and Stocks Row, and finally down Royal Oak Road, until everyone knew about the party to welcome Merc and Ford back to the village. Grandmama was put in charge of making sure that Ford and Merc, no matter how tired they were after moving, had to be inveigled into the bar by nine o’clock. Prompt.

Grandmama was only too willing to undertake the mission, and was dressed and knocking on the door of Glebe House by eight-thirty. ‘I’ve come to insist that you let me buy you a drink tonight in your favourite watering hole. And I won’t take no for an answer.’

‘We’re not tidy at all, but come in.’ Ford ushered her in and shut the door behind her. ‘I don’t think Merc is able to come out; she’s absolutely knackered.’

‘So would I be if I’d just moved. It took me weeks to get over it when I moved into my little cottage. But please, will you come? Just one drink and then I’ll let you go.’ She knew full well she was lying but she was determined they would go to the pub that night, even if they never went again.

Merc’s kind heart couldn’t resist Grandmama’s pleading and she agreed to go. ‘I shall fall asleep after one drink, I’m sure, but yes, we’ll come.’

Grandmama rubbed her hands together with glee. ‘I’m so glad. You’re a pair of angels.’

‘Give me a chance to tidy up and get changed. These old trousers won’t do at all.’

‘No need to get all done up. It’s always quiet on a Monday night. In fact there may only be us there.’

‘Sit down, Mrs Charter-Plackett, I’ll be as quick as I can. Ford, you don’t need to change, you look absolutely fine.’

‘Please, Merc, call me Katherine. We’re old friends you know.’

‘Katherine it is then.’

Being asked to call her Katherine meant to Merc that she had been included once more in the intimate echelons of village life, and she felt greatly encouraged by Grandmama’s kind gesture. So they had done right to come back here where they’d first felt so welcomed and were obviously so well liked still. Thank heavens it had all worked out right and at last they could settle down to living their normal lives again just when she thought they never would. Like Katherine had said, it was Monday night and it would be quiet, and so they could edge their way in to village life quietly.

Quietly? Someone, namely Dottie, was on look-out and the moment she spotted the three of them coming round Stocks Row she called out, ‘Hush everyone!’ Every single seat was taken apart from three at the table with the long settle down one side, because they were being reserved especially for Merc and Ford. Everybody sat motionless and silent, waiting. Suddenly the outer door shot open and before they knew it Grandmama had pushed open the inner door and ushered in Ford and Merc.

A great cheer went up and everyone got to their feet, shouting, ‘Welcome back!’ in one great thrusting voice.

Merc burst into tears of joy, and Ford, after a moment of emotion, called out, ‘Nobody here on Monday nights! That was a whacking great fib you told us, Katherine. Good evening, everyone.’ He bowed low in appreciation in every direction and surreptitiously wiped away a tear.

‘Now you’ve to sit here, look, on the best table in the bar and your first drinks are, according to Dicky, on the house. What would you like?’ Grandmama was delighted that her scheme turned out so well.