by Holly Bell
‘Amenda?’
‘Trade tea for me too,’ she grinned
‘Good girl,’ approved Mr Hodster. ‘I heard you’d taken over the restoration business from Perran.’
‘That’s right. He was an excellent teacher.’
‘I’m sure he’s very proud of you, wherever ‘e is. I hear you do work that would be a credit to him.’
‘Oh, thank you, Mr Hodster. It means a great deal that you should say that.’
‘Yes, well, I do still walk into the village, and, of course, Hugh and Sita Povey visit.’
‘They do?’ asked Amanda in surprise.
‘Hugh was born here, you know. That’s his great uncle Donald over there. Oh, we don’t half like Hugh and his lovely wife. You know they asked everyone for ideas on what they could do with the Manor to help the community? Isn’t that nice? Thank you, Megan. Bless you,’ he said taking his tea. ‘Just ‘ow I like it.’
‘Yes, it is, and I’d expect no less from them,’ said Amanda. ‘They were lovely to work for, even though I didn’t see much of them.’
‘They told us all about the smashing job you done on their banister, and you found a security risk into the bargain.’
‘Fig newtons and Garibaldis,’ said Megan, putting the dishes of biscuits on the table. ‘See you later, Bernie, ladies.’
‘Thank you,’ they chorused.
They had gone rather off-topic, and Amanda was wondering how to return the subject to that of the church hall. But Bernie Hodster had not lost the thread.
Chapter 23
The Saboteurs
‘So,’ said Bernie Hodster, adding two spoonfuls of sugar to his tea, ‘getting back to the old hall. The Hodsters put in their tender to construct the new church hall; an honest sum, said Granddad, for a good and proper job. But then along come the Reckets. Silas Recket with all his oily charm, flatterin’ and flirtin’ and deferrin’ to Lavinia Truckle-Dunkley like she invented the brick, and offerin’ her rock-bottom price. Well, she falls for it, doesn’t she?’
‘Oh no,’ responded Amanda.
‘And off the Reckets go, cutting every corner in the book. And Granddad said, and Dad too, as how the Reckets had a system. Whenever they built a house, they would riddle it with faults, and make notes on what they done. Eventually, the house would leak gas, or rot, or the rain would come in, and the notes would tell what was wrong. So then they’d make a big show of mending this and that and charging the earth, and, finally, lo and behold, they’d find the problem and pretend to fix it. They’d been doing this for generations, knowin’ that every botch would come home to roost and lay another golden egg for the next wave of Reckets.’
‘The church hall floor!’ exclaimed Amanda.
‘That’s right,’ confirmed Mr Hodster emphatically. ‘Charged her for oak and used pine coloured up. Too thin and never treated it neither. And Granddad said he wouldn't have been surprised if they’d set woodworm on it. The hall went up fast all right, too quick for any to see what they was up to. I don’t know how they got it past building inspection, but by no honest means, I’d swear.’
‘So it was only a matter of time…?’
‘Right enough. And it was used as a hospital, all those beds and men and nurses walking across it, and then after the war was over, the ball, with people dancing and well…’
‘There was an accident?’ asked Amanda intently.
‘Terrible it was,’ said Bernie sadly. ‘And a soldier too. Come through the War and then … went clean through onto Mr Giddins collection of anvils.’
‘Anvils?’ Amanda asked, to check she had heard him correctly.
‘Yes, the Giddins family had been blacksmiths back in days gone by. Well, the poor man who fell through hit his head on the anvils, and that was that.’
‘Oh how dreadful!’ exclaimed Amanda.
‘Fortescue Dunkley, deceased,’ concluded Bernie, in funereal tones. ‘Though he wasn’t a man as was well-liked, and some said it had been contrived, but I don’t reckon to that. Not seeing as there was a whole ball full of people dancing away over the same spot that night. Still, who’s to say?’
‘How come the anvils were in the cellar?’
‘They’d belonged to Mr Giddins, as I say, but he got killed in the War, and his widow couldn’t bear to sell them but wanted to store them, and asked the rector, who didn’t want to say no.’
‘I see.’ Amanda had drained her cup.
‘So there you are. That’s everything I can tell you about the hall. Like another cup, dear?’
‘No, thank you, Mr Hodster. You’ve been more than helpful.’
‘Well, I expect you must be getting back,’ said Bernie, stirring, ‘and I have a croquet match soon but before you go ….’
He leaned towards Amanda and Amanda did likewise so catch his whisper:
‘If you want to know more, it’s not cherchez la femme, but cherchez les notes.’
***
As they walked back to the Astra, Amanda was silent at first, mulling over what she had learned. At least, now she understood some of what she had witnessed in the church hall. The soldier falling through the floor must have been Captain Dunkley. But what about the woman? And the legs coming out of the ceiling and the fall from above? And why had she seen it? Was someone trying to tell her something? Finally she said aloud,
‘Thank you Gwendolen. That was very informative.’
‘You’re welcome, dear. May I ask what Bernie whispered to you?’
‘”Cherchez les notes.”’
Gwendolen nodded. ‘Find the Recket papers documenting their botches.’
‘We need to discover who would be the most recent legatee.’
Miss Armstrong-Witworth pulled on her lace gloves with determination and uttered,
‘Cynthia and I will be on the case of finding out who the most likely person is to have inherited them. My dear, you leave that one to the back room boys!’
Chapter 24
First Class
Amanda was nervous. She said as much to Grandpa.
‘I know you weren’t expecting the inspector to join the class when you first agreed to be in on it,’ replied Perran, understandingly.
‘Or that it was going to be used as an opportunity to catch a spy,’ added Granny.
‘But just try to relax and enjoy yourself,’ he recommended.
‘I wasn’t expecting to be in the spotlight, is the thing,’ explained Amanda.
‘Well, you don’t have to closet yourself away with him in a corner. Just greet him as a friend and dance with him as you would with any of the other partners, and you won’t add fuel to the gossip fire.’
‘And you’ve got new shoes!’ Grandpa reminded her. That made Amanda smile naively and look down at her feet, flexing her ankles to watch the play of light on her footwear.
‘Yes, I do like my new dance shoes.’ They were orange. They matched her orange circle skirt and top, worn over black cycling shorts.
***
Amanda, parked, approached the open door of the church hall and calmed her breathing.
Just inside was a table bearing a clipboard and a black cash box. An elderly man, with smiling but weary grey eyes, and wearing a white shirt and bow tie was limping towards it. He bade her a cheerful good evening in a gravelly East London accent.
‘Good evening, er, Mr Woodberry?’
‘Vic,’ he replied, shaking her hand. ‘And you’d be?’
‘Amanda.’
He sat down at the table and looked at his list.
‘Amanda Cadabra?’ She could see he was wondering if the spelling was correct. People usually did. ‘That’s right,’ she reassured him.
‘Int’restin,’ Vic commented. ‘Is this your first time at this sort of a class?’
‘Yes. The rector —,’ who had excused herself on the grounds that she didn’t want to cramp anyone’s style, ‘— asked me to be as supportive as possible. Is there anything I can do to help?’
‘I don’t thin
k so. But you can go and introduce yourself to Majolica.’
Amanda paid, then walked the length of the hall toward the stage, catching sight of Trelawney out of the corner of her eye. He was in conversation with the Sharmas.
Majolica, intent on her audio set up, was standing with her back to the hall holding a pair of headphones to one ear. Amanda stood politely at her elbow. Majolica gave her an unsmiling glance and continued with what she was doing. Amanda waited. The woman went on with her activities. Amanda turned and looked around. There were Sylvia and her husband coming in, then Joan and Jim, Sandra’s sister, Vanessa, looking fit in yoga attire with her mid brown wavy hair in a ponytail adorned with a yellow lily, Irene James, jewellery maker and mother to supermodel Jessica, Hugh and Sita Povey, who spotted Amanda and waved, followed by Sandy from The Big Tease, taking a little time off while Alex looked after the café.
Ah, there’s Ruth, bless her, thought Amanda, giving up queuing for Majolica’s attention and going to greet her young friend.
‘Thank you for coming along, Ruth.’
‘Hi, Amanda. Not many here yet,’ she remarked hopefully.
‘More are coming in,’ replied Amanda, gesturing towards the door.
‘Jonathan!’ exclaimed Ruth. The devastatingly handsome but incurably shy assistant librarian was an unexpected arrival.
‘Oh, but here’s Mrs Pagely,’ Amanda said, pointing out his kindly boss. ‘I expect she’s persuaded him to come and promised to look after him.’
‘Who’s that?’ asked Ruth, seeing an unfamiliar man of medium height with dark brown, carefully windswept hair.
‘Leo, the new salon co-owner,’ answered Amanda.
‘He looks all right,’ judged Ruth.
‘I think so.’
‘What’s he doing here?’ the teenager was staring towards the portal. ‘He’s a bit celeb for this, isn’t he?’
‘Yes, I didn't expect to see Ryan. Still, cricketers are allowed to dance, and perhaps he’s showing solidarity with the rector.’
‘Oh no!’ Ruth gazed appalled at the young man at Ryan’s side. She groaned. The cricketer had Erik’s son, Kieran, in tow. ‘I don’t believe this.’
‘Don’t worry, Ruth, you’ll only be dancing with him in very short bursts, just like with all of the others.’
Amanda suppressed her laughter. Her young friend’s martyred expression would have done credit to a portrayal of Joan of Arc in her final moments.
The sea of attendees near the entrance parted as the ladies from The Grange entered. The Misses de Havillande and Armstrong-Witworth waved to Amanda. For once, Churchill, the terrier had been left with Moffat, general factotum and de facto master of the great house and grounds.
The doctors Patel, Neeta and Karan, came in, acting as a buffer between the casually but persistently feuding Miss de Havillande and Dennis Hanley-Page, who was turned out to a T in a striped blazer and cream trousers.
The ‘Colonel’ sauntered in and handed over his cash as Majolica finally and grandly turned to the hall and, with a gracious smile and gesture of the hand, commenced,
‘Good afternoon, new dancers. What a pleasure to see so many of you. Thank you for making the first class of our wonderful new course such an abuhhhndant one.’ She had a tendency to draw out her words, which put Amanda in mind of some of the more unfortunate products of the local theatre school a few miles away.
‘Now, gather round, gather round. Introductions first. My name is Majolica Woodberry and this … Victor, perhaps you would like to come to the front now?’ Majolica pronounced it Vick-tour, to Amanda’s amusement. ‘Yes, this is my husband and dance partner of many years, Victor.’
‘Good evening, all,’ said Vic, amiably.
‘Next, any questions?’
The hall remained in somewhat overwhelmed silence. Amanda turned her head to her right to see who would be so daring as to speak and Ryan caught her eye and smiled. She nodded her recognition. She looked to the left, to see Leo giving her a little waggle of the fingers. Amanda acknowledged him likewise.
‘Very well,’ continued Majolica, apparently gratified to see her class so subdued, ‘but if you have any, at any stage, please do not hesitate to call upon either myself or my husband.’ She paused as though to allow the enormity of this concession to sink in, then went on, ‘To begin with, we will learn the very basics of a dance that is probably the most familiar to many of you: the waltz.’
In their serried ranks, Majolica put them through their solo paces, then lined up leaders and followers opposite one another, and had them partner up. Soon Mrs Woodberry considered them ready for musical accompaniment.
‘Change partners!’ she called, and Amanda found herself standing in Trelawney’s excellent frame.
‘Good evening, Miss Cadabra.’ He seemed to be entertained.
‘Good evening, Inspector,’ she returned politely.
‘How are you liking our gracious instructor?’ he asked, leading her smoothly through the steps.
‘Overpowering. I don’t know how you can chat. Don’t you have to mind your feet?’
‘No, thanks to my admirable parent’s dedicated and, I might add, exhausting tutelage.’ They waltzed on, Amanda counting in her head, until she was able to say,
‘You do her credit. Spotted any potential spies yet?’
‘Only a few,’ he replied, playfully.
‘Change partners!’ came the call.
‘Thank you, Miss Cadabra.’
‘Thank you, Inspector.’ And Amanda passed to her right.
Dennis was an experienced and light leader and gave her a brief respite until she was instructed to move to the waiting arms of Ryan Ford.
Chapter 25
Manoeuvres
‘Finally, we get a moment to talk.’
‘I can’t, Ryan, I have to concentrate,’ Amanda protested.
‘Afterwards then. It’s for the community.’
‘Oh?’ she replied suspiciously. But he said no more and let her mind her dance steps. A few moments later, Amanda was in the inexpert hands of young Kieran, her solicitor’s son. He appeared to be suffering.
‘Not enjoying the class?’ asked Amanda sympathetically.
‘Oh, it’s not that, it’s ….. Dad’s always spoken highly of you. You have to help me!' he whispered urgently. ‘You’re her friend. She thinks I’m a moron.’
‘Ah. Let’s chat afterwards, OK?’ He nodded and looked relieved. Amanda had spotted an opportunity that she had been hoping just might open up.
Next, she was received by Leo, who looked delighted.
‘Isn't this great?’ he enthused.
‘Yes, it is,’ Amanda agreed. ‘It’s good to see the village out in force and doing something together apart from sharing the news of the Sunken Madley world.’
‘Have you considered the tea break suggestion?’
‘I have,’ stated Amanda, having thought it had opportunity to interview a potential spy. ‘How about elevenses on Monday? In The Big Tease?’
‘Done. I’ll be there. I’ll let sis know I’ll be out of the salon for a short time. She won’t mind. I have only one appointment at nine, and I’ll easily be finished by then.'
‘Good,’ said Amanda.
Halfway through, Majolica called a break, and Amanda had another crack at breaking the ice with the lady. This time, Mrs Woodberry paid heed.
‘Sorry I was so preoccupied when you came up before, dear, but I wanted everything to be perfect for the first class. You understand, don’t you?'
‘Of course,' Amanda replied politely. 'Is there anything I can do to help? The rector especially wanted me to ask.’
‘No, nothing. My husband Vic-tour and I have everything under perfect control. We work together like a well-oiled machine, you know. After all these years, it’s really second nature. We have our own studio, you know.'
'So I heard. Very close to Sunken Madley,' remarked Amanda conversationally.
'But, of course, not in Sunken Madley. No,
we are in Romping-in-the-Heye.' Majolica emphasised this as though it placed her several rungs up the social scale from the village in which she was at present condescending to teach.
‘How do you like the hall? Will it do?’ asked Amanda civilly.
Majolica glanced around it with pity, but uttered philosophically, ‘I’ve been in worse. Anyway, it’s for a good cause.’ Amanda having had as much as she could take of Lady Bountiful, excused herself with,
'Well, I’ll get some water, and leave you to it.’
'Do that. Hydration. Sooo important.’
Amanda walked away and gasped as though she had been inhaling a too strong scent. Trelawney was now chatting to Vanessa, who was looking a trifle starry-eyed. Leo and Ryan were standing together, each with their hands in their pockets, looking about the hall and apparently commenting on it.
Amanda saw Kieran at the water table, and not only took pity on him, but homed in to acquire a possible ally and extra pair of eyes.
‘What can I do to help?’ she asked comfortingly, leading him to some chairs at the side.
‘Ruth thinks I’m a twit just because I play cricket. It’s not even like I’m that good. Well, it’s only the second XI, and I didn’t intend to be good at it and picked for captain! It just sort of happened. My thing is French 13th-century history and the Crusades and playing Medieval Melée online, and I know Ruth plays it too, but she won't even talk to me.’
‘All right, all right,’ soothed Amanda. ‘I understand. I remember at her age taking a rather extreme view of certain things too. You’re probably just the same about some yourself.’
‘Yes, but I’m fair, I hope,’ protested Kieran, in his own defence.
‘OK, leave it with me.’
‘Thanks, Miss Cadabra. Dad said you were a good sort.’
Amanda nodded, as Kieran went off back to Ryan’s side, where he seemed to feel safe.
