Village Secrets (9 page)

‘So will I.’ Peter raised an eyebrow as Kate left to get the glasses. He mouthed ‘Help’ and went to sit on the sofa beside Caroline. She kept her face straight and looked round the room. The pictures were of wild stark landscapes and one was of sea crashing onto dark, forbidding rocks. There was a kind of threatening effect to the pictures which quite unnerved Caroline. How could Kate be so pleasant and yet like – actually choose to buy – such forbidding prints?

‘This elderflower is very refreshing, Kate, very pleasant.’ Caroline lifted her glass in a toast to Kate.

‘It is, isn’t it? The dandelion is very potent, so you can try some before you go home. At least you don’t have to drive!’

‘Do you make the wines yourself?’

‘I do but not this one; a friend gave me this.’

‘Can I help with the dinner at all?’

‘Oh no. Well, you could carry things in. I’ll just check the potatoes and then I’ll give you a shout.’

Peter sipped his elderflower wine and silently gazed at the decor and the furnishings. It really was quite amazing. He felt something brush his leg and he jumped. He looked down to see what had touched him, and found himself staring into a pair of the greenest eyes he had ever seen. ‘Good grief, it’s a massive cat.’

‘Shush!’ Caroline looked towards the kitchen door, and hoped Kate hadn’t heard him.

‘It’s a monster! I thought Tonga was big but this is ridiculous. Hello, puss.’ Cat spat and Peter hastily pulled back his hand.

Kate called from the kitchen, ‘Ready, Caroline!’

‘I’m coming.’

Between them they carried in a huge selection of salads. The protein was provided by what looked like meatloaf. There were thick slices of French bread and a dish with what looked like butter in it, but couldn’t be. She brought in hot new potatoes in a covered dish and invited them to sit down.

Peter admitted that out of ignorance he thought vegans lived on the odd lettuce leaf and a bowl of rice. ‘Obviously I’m very wrong. This looks like a feast fit for a king!’

Kate nodded her head in acknowledgement. ‘Certainly not, Rector, that really does show abysmal ignorance.’

‘I do beg your pardon.’ He bent his head to say a silent grace.

‘This is a nutloaf I made myself to an old Turkish recipe. The salads are self explanatory. The spread is not butter but made from soya beans.’

They began to help themselves and Kate whilst filling her plate said, ‘Beth seems to have had a better morning, Caroline.’

‘Yes, she does. I’m hoping we’ve turned a corner. It just needed a bit of careful thought and we think we’ve found the solution.’

Peter helped himself to a pile of new potatoes and said, ‘Tell me, Kate, are you settling in OK?’

‘Oh yes, thank you. Bit of a blip this afternoon, though, I’m afraid.’

‘Oh? Anything I can help you with?’

‘Pat Duckett has given in her notice.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that. She’s been at the school a long time.’

Kate rolled her eyes heavenwards. ‘So she frequently tells me.’

‘Does she give a reason?’

‘Yes – me.’

‘You?’

‘Yes. I won’t have things slipshod, you know. It won’t do. She’s got very lax.’

‘I see. I’m surprised. Then we shall have to find someone quick. Still, we have a whole month, don’t we? She’ll have given a month’s notice.’

‘Well, no, she hasn’t. She’s leaving on Friday. Says she’s not bothered about her pay.’

‘Oh? That’s most unlike Pat. She’s been so reliable: The office will want an explanation of such a hurried departure.’

‘I know. I wondered if there were any mothers who come to mind who might be interested.’

Caroline was enjoying the food beyond her wildest expectations. It was so spicy and aromatic, she had to give credit where it was due. ‘This food is delicious,’ she enthused. ‘I’d love to try a few of your recipes. How about Bel Tutt?’

Kate looked puzzled. ‘I don’t know that dish. Is it good?’

‘No, it’s not a recipe! It’s a person. She might be interested in the job.’

‘Oh, I see.’

‘Dicky Tutt is the Scout Leader and Bel helps. Any nonsense and Bel wades in. They’ve all learned to respect her!’

‘If you’ll give me her number, I’ll give her a ring.’

Peter offered his help. ‘Better still, I’ve some paperwork for Dicky which I’m dropping into his house tomorrow. I’ll have a word with Bel myself if you like. Explain the situation.’

‘Thank you, Rector, please do that. If she’s interested I’ll see her any time out of school hours.’

Next morning, Peter had a real hangover. ‘This must be the result of that second glass of dandelion wine. I feel terrible, what about you?’

‘Ghastly! I’m so glad I haven’t got surgery today. I’ve a dreadful pain in my head.’

‘Same here. Quite weird, actually. I keep thinking ridiculous thoughts.’

‘She did warn us it was potent. I shall stick to water if we go again.’

‘So shall I. I’m not going running this morning – I just can’t. I’ll dash off and say my prayers and then come home. Jimbo will laugh. He always declares he’s much fitter than me, and boasts he could do double the distance if he had the time. The children are still asleep.’

‘They’re tired from playgroup.’

‘You stay in bed till they wake up.’

‘I shall. I wonder if Mimi will come home today? I’m going walking in Sykes Wood this morning, see if I can find her.’

‘Not by yourself?’

‘No, Sylvia said she would come too. Even though she has never liked Mimi.’

‘I’m not surprised.’

‘Peter!’ He grinned. Caroline snuggled down; he went to the bathroom and groaned when he saw his reflection in the mirror. He looked appalling and felt it.

Peter was in his study when he heard the doorbell ring. Shortly afterwards, Sylvia tapped on his door.

‘Rector, have you time for a word with Pat Duckett?’

‘Of course. Come in, Pat.’

‘Thank you, Rector.’

‘Here, sit down, make yourself comfortable. Is it too early for coffee, Sylvia?’

‘Seeing as it’s you sir, no, it’s not. Milk and sugar, Pat?’

‘Just milk, please.’

When she’d left the room, Peter turned to his visitor. ‘Now, Pat, what can I do for you?’

Pat peered closely at him. ‘Aren’t you well, Rector?’

‘I’m fine, thank you.’

‘Oh, but you don’t look it. Anyways, Rector, I’ve come to tell you that I’ve made a right mess of things. Given in my notice.’

‘Kate Pascoe told me so last night when we went to her house for dinner.’ Pat tut-tutted at this. ‘I’m very sorry indeed. You’ve always done such a good job, come hail or shine. Seven, eight years is it now?’

‘Thereabouts. I got on really well with Mr Palmer. We ’ad our ups and downs but it was mostly ups. But … well, I can’t see eye to eye with
Ms
Pascoe. I’m not saying she’s in the wrong, it’s just that we’re not on the same wavelength, if you get me. We had a flaming row. She wanted this doing and that doing, all extras and some quite unnecessary, I think, and it’s sending me timings all wrong and I’m nearly dizzy with it. Anyway, when I got home and cooled down I thought, You fool, Pat Duckett, giving yer notice in just when yer need the money. So I ’aven’t actually written it, only
said
it – so do you think you could put in a good word for me and get me job back? I wouldn’t ask but we all know how persuasive you can be.’ Head on one side she grinned at him. ‘Would you?’

‘I very likely could, if that’s what you want. I mean, why can’t you get on with her?’

‘I don’t really know – can’t put me finger on it. It’s just that I’m worried, like – don’t know whether I’m coming or going. Barry says I’m imagining it. Anyway, I’ve decided I’m being daft and I’d like to carry on and I shall try to adapt.’

Sylvia came in with the coffee. They chatted for a while as they drank it but Peter came no nearer to finding a clue as to why Pat was upset with school. It was as she said: she just didn’t feel right.

‘Not long now, Pat.’

Pat raised her eyebrows. ‘I don’t know what you mean. Oh, the wedding! Our Michelle’s that excited.’

‘Aren’t you?’

‘He’s a lovely man, is Barry. Honest, hardworking, good at his job – and he really likes the children and they like him.’

‘That isn’t what I asked.’

Pat put down her empty mug. ‘I can’t quite believe it’s happening to me, you see, Rector. I’ve had years of struggle, and never expected to be happy again. Truth to tell, I wasn’t that happy with me first. Now and then I get a glimmer of how happy I’m going to be, but I’m not going to get too excited.’ Pat fidgeted with her beads. ‘You never know, I might be making a big mistake.’

‘Well, you
are
going to be happy again – I’m sure you are. I’ve had a long chat with Barry and I’m positive everything will be fine. Believe me. You deserve it. Barry’s a great chap.’

‘He’s wicked, he is.’ She grinned at him. ‘I won’t take any more of your time, I’ll be off. When that Ms Pascoe said she’d be glad for me to leave, she meant it, she really did. You could have a difficult job on your hands. If you don’t succeed don’t worry, it
is
my fault. After all, it might make me take the plunge and do more jobs with Jimbo. I don’t quite believe in myself enough you see, to do that.’

‘Jimbo’s a very astute businessman. He wouldn’t be asking you if he didn’t believe in your capabilities.’ Peter stood up and saw her to the door. ‘I’ll give you a ring when I’ve seen her. I’ll do my best. Good morning, Pat. God bless you.’

‘Thank you, Rector, thank you.’

Beth watched her mother getting her boots out from the hall cupboard, then Alex’s and then her own. ‘Mummy, no playgroup morning?’

‘No, darling. We’re going for a walk in Sykes Wood to see if we can spot Mimi.’

‘Sylvie coming?’

‘She is.’

‘Don’t like playgroup. Don’t like Pascoe.’

‘
Ms
Pascoe, Beth. Why?’

‘Funny.’

‘Oh, come on, she’s nice. Here, lift your foot. That’s it. You can do the other one yourself, can’t you? Show Mummy.’

‘Can’t.’

‘You can.’

‘Can’t.’

‘
Won’t
, more like. I’ll do it then. Here’s your coat, put it on.’

‘Can’t. Mummy do it.’

‘Alex has got himself ready except for his buttons.’

‘Beth can’t.’ She stuck her thumb in her mouth and took her lover from her pocket. Caroline kissed her and dressed her herself. If dressing Beth was what it took to make her happy then she’d dress her.

‘Not going to playgroup ’morrow.’

‘We’ll see. Ready, Sylvia?’

‘Coming.’

The four of them left the rectory and walked along Church Lane. The world and his wife seemed to be out and they exchanged greetings with two of the weekenders who were spending a holiday week redecorating and were off to get food at the Store, then with the gardener sweeping the drive of Glebe House. When they passed the gate to the Big House, they read its smartly painted notice telling them it was
TURNHAM HOUSE
and in small letters underneath
Fitch plc London and Brussels
. They climbed the stile into Sykes Wood and followed the well-worn path which led right through the middle of the woods. Alex rushed along ahead of them with Beth following slowly in his wake.

‘Jimmy Glover buried his dog Sykes here, do you remember?’

‘I certainly do, Dr Harris.’

‘Along with all his snares; he said he buried them really deep so the foxes couldn’t dig them up. Mimi! Mimi! Shout for Mimi, darlings.’

Alex and Beth shouted until they were hoarse, but Mimi didn’t appear. They came to a clearing and Alex pounced on a burnt stick. Right in the middle of the clearing was a large circle of ashes and burnt branches and twigs.

‘Look, Mummy, bonfire.’

‘So there is.’ She felt the ash. ‘It’s cold. Fancy having a fire in the woods in the middle of winter.’

Sylvia looked down at the ash, and poked it about with her boot. ‘Could have been in the summer. It’s difficult to tell when it was.’

Alex rushed to Caroline. ‘There’s a glove – look, Mummy. Man lost a glove.’ It was a large, thick black-woollen glove with a big hole in the thumb, a kind of burnt hole as though the owner had been wearing it while tending the fire. But it wasn’t wet or dirty or going rotten. It had been left quite recently.

‘Throw it down, Alex, there’s a good boy. How odd!’ Caroline shivered with the cold.

Sylvia persuaded herself she knew the answer. ‘It’ll be the Scouts on one of their midnight hikes. Cooking sausages and things, you know what they’re like.’

‘Of course, you’re quite right. It will have been them. Beth, what have you found? What is it?’

‘A stick, a big stick.’ She dragged the stick along the ground. The end was burnt as though it had been used for poking the fire. As she dragged it along, some rags from just under the surface of the ground became entangled with it. There’d been a half-hearted attempt to bury them.