The Newcomer

by Fern Britton

  Digger Pete, who she hadn’t noticed earlier, stood up. ‘I don’t care about the bleddy pond. I didn’t sleep last night, worried about Mr Bates. I can’t believe what happened. I keep thinking about suddenly seeing him fall. It was my fault. I will never forgive myself.’

  ‘It was an accident,’ said Angela. ‘No blame is attached to you and nor should it be. Piran Ambrose is shutting the dig site down until the council health and safety team have inspected the site. However, Piran will be spending today with a couple of his archaeological team to see what is coming to the surface, if anybody wants to take a look. As long as you keep outside the orange tape you will remain safe.’

  She stopped for a moment and after a deep breath said, ‘On a personal note, I want to apologise for pushing the whole idea forward. I thought it would be fun. I take full responsibility for it.’

  ‘It was my fault,’ Simple Tony piped up from Polly’s side. ‘I wanted to do it. It was me who let the curse escape.’

  Polly took his hand and shushed him. ‘Be quiet. I told you it’s not your fault.’

  Angela held her hands up. ‘Tony, let me make this clear. There is no curse and nothing is your fault. You may come and see me later and I will reassure you. OK?’

  Polly put a gentle arm around his shoulders and hugged him. ‘There. I told you.’

  Angela took a deep breath. ‘Right, please stand for our second hymn, “Lord of all hopefulness”.’

  When she returned from church, she found Mamie in the kitchen attempting to cook a Sunday roast.

  ‘Hello, darling.’ Mamie was on a charm offensive. ‘How was church? I’ve made some fresh coffee for you, and Robert nipped up to Tesco for some croissants.’ She produced a pretty plate with two warm and flaky croissant arranged carefully with a knob of butter and a small pot of raspberry jam. ‘Sit down and relax. The Archers omnibus has just started. I know how much you love it. Shall I pop the radio on for you?’

  Angela sat down at the kitchen table and crossed her arms. ‘What the hell were you thinking?’

  ‘I’m thinking of you, darling. You work so hard I wanted to show my appreciation.’

  ‘No. What were you thinking when you decided to bring drugs into this house? Into a vicarage. And how did you get hold of them?’ A sudden terrible thought crossed her mind. ‘Oh, no. You didn’t get them from Ben, did you? Or Faith?’

  ‘No, darling. They are a couple of dear little prudes. I got them from a man who happens to be a doctor.’

  ‘Not from Trevay Health Centre? Not Dr Adam?’

  ‘Of course not. Just a nice man who lives on the moor and sells a little bit of medicinal cannabis.’

  Angela was shocked. ‘He could have been selling anything. I read all the time about drugs that are contaminated with brick dust or ant powder. It could have killed you and Queenie.’

  Mamie tutted and pushed a blond lock of hair out of her eyes. ‘I know good dope when I see it. I was young once, you know. In India I remember, Jack Nicholson and I, we …’

  Angela stood up fast, knocking her chair backwards where it crashed to the floor, making Mamie jump. Angela unleashed her fury.

  ‘Shut up! Shut up! I can’t bear to hear another of your stories. THIS IS SERIOUS! I can see you now, sometime soon when you’ll be telling your cronies all about the time you brought drugs into your niece’s vicarage and ate all the bacon and got a telling-off because your niece, me,’ she jabbed herself in the chest with a shaking hand, ‘is such a square head that I didn’t see the joke. And no, I do not see the damn joke.’

  Mamie said quietly, ‘The phrase is square, not square head.’

  Angela burst into tears. ‘I don’t care what it is. I am trying to be a good vicar. I want to do so well here that I’ll be offered a parish of my own where I can live out my days and be a real part of the community, not just another newcomer, blown in on the breeze and out again. The one remembered for digging a stupid pond, nearly killing the chairman of the parish council, having a drugged-up aunt and, and …’ she was sobbing now and losing her strength ‘… the one they hated so much that she deserved two poison-pen letters.’

  Angela crumpled and Mamie flew to her side.

  ‘Darling, darling,’ she said, cradling Angela in her arms. ‘You are the best person I know. I am a feeble stupid old woman but you are strong and thoughtful and caring. I am so, so sorry.’

  ‘So you should be,’ Angela sobbed.

  ‘I am, truly.’

  Someone knocked at the front door, as often happens at the wrong moment.

  ‘I’ll get rid of them,’ said Mamie as she left the room.

  Angela got some kitchen towel, blew her nose and sat down. She hoped that whoever it was at the door would go away quickly. She listened for Mamie’s voice.

  ‘Polly,’ Mamie said overloudly, so that Angela would hear, ‘I’m so sorry, if you’ve come to see Angela, but she’s having a rest. It’s been a difficult time for her.’

  Polly was sounding upset. Angela pricked her ears up. ‘I wouldn’t trouble her but I don’t know who else to talk to.’

  ‘Can you tell me?’

  Angela heard Polly sniff and blow her nose, then her voice, full of emotion. ‘It’s the curse.’

  ‘What curse, dear?’

  ‘The pond. We should never have touched it. I feel so bad. I’ve unleashed the spirits.’

  Angela wearily rubbed her eyes, got out of her chair and went to meet Polly.

  ‘Come on, Polly,’ she said, taking the distraught woman’s hand. ‘Come into my study. Mamie, would you bring two cups of your coffee, please?’

  Angela offered a chair to Polly and then a box of tissues. Polly accepted both.

  ‘I heard you telling Mamie about the curse. I told Tony, all of you, in church, that there is no curse,’ Angela said.

  Polly wiped her nose and eyes. ‘But supposing there is?’

  ‘There really isn’t. Mike had an accident, that’s all. Nothing else is going to happen.’

  ‘It has already.’ Polly’s eyes were full of anxiety. ‘I got a horrible letter last night when I got home. I only popped in to get the cat and a Thermos, then I was going to spend the night down at the pond like I said. But when I opened the door the postman had been and there was a few letters, rubbish mostly, but there was one I didn’t recognise. Marked “Personal”.’

  Angela felt a chill in her chest. ‘May I see it?’

  Polly pulled a crumpled envelope from the pocket of her cardigan. ‘Here.’

  As with Angela’s letters, there were no distinguishing marks. White envelope. White address label stuck to it. White sheet of paper inside. The words were all in black type:

  WITCHES LIKE YOU NEED DROWNING.

  Angela examined it carefully then folded it and put it back in its envelope.

  ‘We must call the police.’

  ‘No, no,’ said Polly. ‘I don’t want more trouble.’

  ‘Whoever has written this needs help and needs to be stopped.’

  Polly chewed her lip in anxiety. ‘What have I done to upset the spirits?’

  ‘You have done nothing. There are no spirits to upset.’ Angela was fed up with hearing about ‘the spirits’. She opened the top drawer of her desk, and took out two envelopes addressed to her. One blue. One white. ‘Long before the pond was dug,’ she said, handing Polly the letters to read, ‘I received these.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Read them.’

  Polly opened the letters and read the malicious words. ‘Oh, no,’ she said. ‘These are horrible.’

  ‘Indeed. So, you see, we have to call the police.’

  ‘Yes, I do see.’

  ‘Do you mind if I show your letter to Robert?’

  ‘No.’

  Angela stood up and opened the door onto the hall outside her study. ‘Robert?’ she called. ‘Can you come here for a moment, please?’

  Mamie appeared from the kitchen end of the hall with two coffee cups. ‘He’s just getting so
mething from the car. Here’s your coffee.’ As she handed over the two drinks, she saw the two letters on the desk and looked at Angela questioningly.

  ‘I’m afraid Polly has received one too,’ Angela said.

  The women looked at each other in shock.

  ‘My God,’ Mamie whispered. ‘Who the hell is doing this?’

  Robert came into the house via the back door and shouted Angela’s name. ‘Where are you?’

  ‘In the study,’ she called back.

  As he came into the room, she could see he was angry. ‘When were you going to tell me about crashing the damn car?’

  ‘I’m so sorry. I had forgotten all about that. You see—’

  ‘Forgotten? How can you forget writing the bloody front of the car off?’

  In answer, Angela calmly held up Polly’s letter. ‘There’s been another one.’

  32

  ‘What?’ Robert said. ‘Show it to me.’ He read the five words. ‘Oh, Polly, I am so sorry. This is horrible.’

  Mamie was peeved. ‘You should apologise to Angela while you’re at it. Coming in here accusing her of crashing the car.’

  ‘Mamie, I did damage the car,’ said Angela.

  ‘I’m sure you haven’t done any lasting damage.’ Mamie was in full-on defensive mode. ‘What men think of as a write-off is just a little scuff on a wheel arch, or a small little bump.’

  Angela stopped her. ‘It is more than a bump. It was when I went to see Mike in hospital yesterday. As I was parking I drove straight into a concrete post. I wasn’t concentrating. I was worried about Mike.’

  ‘But why didn’t you tell me?’ Robert asked.

  ‘What with everything else, it skipped my mind, and I didn’t want to bring another problem into the house.’

  ‘There,’ said Mamie indignantly. ‘Happy now, Robert? If she’s pranged the silly car, it is because of all the extra pressure we put on her.’ She took Angela’s hand and glared at Robert.

  He ran his hand through his hair, calming himself. ‘Yes. You are right. I suppose it’s only a new bumper and radiator grille. Possibly a new radiator too, but—’

  ‘Oh, do shut up,’ Mamie snapped. ‘What are we going to do about Polly’s letter?’

  ‘Well,’ he looked at the three expectant faces, ‘we should call the police.’

  ‘You should have done that weeks ago, when the second letter came to Angela,’ Mamie said sniffily.

  Polly made the decision for them. ‘Let’s talk about this in a day or two. The main thing is to see how Mike is and get him back home.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ asked Angela.

  ‘Quite sure. I feel better knowing it’s not just aimed at me and that it’s nothing to do with the curse.’

  ‘There is no curse,’ sighed Angela.

  ‘I know that, but I might just go down the pond tonight and cleanse its aura.’

  ‘If it makes you feel better.’ Angela put the three letters into her desk and picked up her bag. ‘Robert, would you take over the Sunday roast that Mamie has started? I am taking her to see Mike.’

  ‘Sure. When will you be back?’

  Mamie swept past Robert. ‘She’ll be back when she’s back. And I am driving her so you don’t have to worry about her driving into any more bollards. Come along, Angela.’

  Mike was looking a lot better when they entered his ward and, when he saw Mamie, his face lit up.

  ‘How lovely of you to come,’ he smiled.

  Mamie bent and kissed his forehead. ‘Darling, the whole village sends love to you.’ She pulled the one available chair up to his bedside and sat down. ‘How are you feeling?’

  ‘Oh, you know. Not too bad. Surgeon is an awfully decent chap. Done a good job. I could be home in a couple of days.’

  ‘That’s excellent,’ smiled Angela, standing at the foot of the bed. ‘The dogs are fine. I took them on the beach this morning with Mr W. Faith and Ben are taking them out later.’

  ‘Very kind. Is there enough dog food?’

  Mamie took his hand. ‘Now don’t go worrying about dog food. We’ll sort all that out. I am more concerned about how you’ll manage when you get home.’

  ‘That reminds me.’ Angela looked towards the nurses’ station. ‘I need to talk to someone about what happens when you are discharged. I won’t be long.’

  When she’d gone, Mamie looked around at the occupants in the five other beds in the ward. ‘Not exactly a lively bunch, are they?’

  ‘That man in the corner,’ whispered Mike, ‘I think he has a wife and a mistress.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘This morning I heard the nurse saying that Bridget had called and was coming in to see him at teatime with the children, and half an hour later a rather attractive woman, whom he called Georgie, rolled up wearing a skirt so tight I could see the tops of her stockings.’

  ‘You know you shouldn’t have been looking,’ Mamie said primly. ‘Although I have never got on with tights myself.’

  Mike swallowed too quickly and began a coughing fit.

  ‘Oh, darling, here, let me get you a glass of water.’ She poured some water into a white plastic cup and offered it to him. ‘Better now?’

  ‘Fine.’ He coughed a little more, then settled back. ‘Mamie, you are a joy in a dull world.’

  ‘That’s the nicest thing anyone has said to me all week.’ She smiled at him. ‘So, now, what are we going to do with you once you’re home?’

  ‘I’ll be fine.’

  Mamie rolled her eyes. ‘Oh, really? You won’t be able to use your bedroom because the stairs will be too much. You can’t drive. You can’t let the dogs out. But you’ll be fine?’

  Mike set his shoulders. ‘I will employ someone to help. An agency nurse.’

  ‘That’ll cost you an arm and a leg. And one of your legs is already duff.’

  Mike couldn’t help but laugh. ‘You are a tonic.’

  Angela returned. ‘The doctor says if we can move your bed downstairs and make sure we have a rota of friends coming in to bring food and walk the dogs, they will arrange for a carer to come twice a day to help you wash and dress in the morning and then get you ready for bed at night. You could be home in a couple of days.’

  Mike shook his head. ‘That’s very kind of you, but I really don’t think I want to trouble people in that way.’

  Angela put her hands on her hips. ‘Do you want to come home or don’t you?’

  ‘Well, of course I want to come home. Can’t block a jolly good bed like this when other people deserve it more than me. But really, I—’

  ‘Mike.’ Mamie winked at him. ‘Let my niece do her job. This is what vicars do.’ She smiled at Angela. ‘And it’ll look excellent on her CV.’

  Motoring home in the old Jensen, Angela sat quietly.

  ‘What’s going on in your head, young lady?’ Mamie asked.

  ‘Nothing much.’

  ‘Oh, come, come. I’ve told you before, you can’t kid a kidder.’

  Angela looked at her hands in her lap. ‘The last few days have been awful. All I was trying to do was bring the village closer together, to make a difference to the community, and I ended up nearly killing one of them!’

  ‘I know it’s been awful, love, but nothing is your fault. Accidents happen.’

  ‘Poor Mike. I’ll see if one or two of the Pals can pop in to help him. Robbie might help, and do you think Evelyn would mind?’

  ‘I think they’d be only too happy to help, but I have an even better idea.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘Me. I shall be his carer. I shall move into the house tomorrow, give it a spring clean, you and Robert can move the bed downstairs, and I shall look after him.’

  ‘No, no, it’ll be too much for you.’ Angela was dismissive.

  ‘Why?’ Mamie pursed her lips.

  ‘Well, it will be so tiring and, no offence, but you are not getting any younger.’

  Mamie was very offended. ‘Thank you for nothing.’

 
; ‘You know what I mean.’

  ‘No, I do not know what you mean. I am strong and fit, and besides all that, I want to help. I like Mike and—’

  Angela snorted. ‘He likes you!’

  ‘Is that so strange? Why wouldn’t he like me? I am an attractive woman and I know how to cheer him up.’

  ‘Oh, for goodness’ sake, spare me the details.’ Angela couldn’t hide her amusement.

  Mamie gave her niece a sidelong glance before turning left into the lane to Pendruggan. ‘Don’t worry. There will be no hanky-panky.’

  Over a supper of the delayed roast chicken lunch, Mamie outlined her plan.

  Robert was very supportive. ‘It’s a great idea. You’ll perk the poor man up no end. Just don’t send his blood pressure rising too much.’

  Mamie tutted. ‘For heaven’s sake, you and your wife have sex on the brain.’

  Faith put her knife and fork down with a clatter. ‘Oh, pleeeease. I do not want to hear this.’

  ‘Sex is not just for the young, young lady,’ Mamie told her.

  ‘Eugggh. Stop it. Can I have my pudding upstairs?’

  Angela shot Mamie a warning glance and received a ‘what have I said?’ look in return.

  Robert stood up and began clearing the empty plates. ‘Pudding is ice cream and strawberries and, yes, Faith, you can take it to your room.’

  When Faith had left and the others were sharing out the strawberries, Robert set out a workable plan.

  ‘Right you two, tomorrow morning, I’ll get Gasping Bob to come and help me move Mike’s bed. Angela, you get the dogs walked and fed. Mamie, you get the house ready for Mike’s return, and any shopping that needs doing I’ll pick it up on my way back from the police station.’

  ‘You’re going to tell them about the letters?’ asked Angela.

  ‘Definitely. We need to find this person,’ asserted Robert. ‘I phoned the police station earlier and made an appointment for two o’clock tomorrow afternoon.’

  The next day, bright and early, the troops arrived at Mike’s house.