by Fern Britton
‘OK, I’m all ears.’ She folded her hands in her lap. ‘Talk.’
‘I was hoping that none of this would get out.’
‘I’m sure you were.’
‘It’s going to hurt Angela and Robert so very much.’
34
‘How was Mike?’ asked Angela when Mamie got back to the vicarage. ‘Is he coming home tomorrow?’
Mamie went to the fridge. ‘Yes. After lunch. I shall get him.’
‘I bet he was happy to hear that you are going to look after him.’
Mamie ignored her. ‘Any wine in here?’
Angela laughed. ‘There’s some in the door. Bad day? It’s not six o’clock yet.’
‘It is somewhere in the world.’ Mamie found a half-open bottle of Chablis and poured two large glasses. ‘Robert in?’
‘Yes. In his study. Why?’
‘Just thought he might like a drink too.’
Robert looked up from his laptop as she came in. ‘Hi, Mamie. Is one of those for me?’ he asked, spying the wine glasses.
‘Yes. You’re going to need it.’
He looked baffled. ‘Oh dear. What can be this bad that it requires wine before dinner?’
Mamie flopped into the nearest armchair and took a slug of wine. ‘Worse.’ Robert saw the glint of tears in her eyes.
‘What? What is it? You’re worrying me.’
She pulled the three envelopes from her bag. ‘Read these.’
He opened each of them, reading them carefully. When he got to the letter addressed to Piran, and the photo of Robert and Helen kissing fell on his lap, Mamie could see his bewilderment.
‘Who took this picture? Who wrote these?’
‘Oh God, Robert.’ Mamie leant forward, her elbows on her knees, cradling her wine glass. ‘This is so awful. I don’t know how to tell you.’
Robert’s blood ran cold. ‘Tell me.’
‘It’s Faith.’ Mamie’s voice cracked as tears began to fall.
He jumped up and went to her, crouching in front of her, looking into her eyes to see if this was a joke. ‘Faith?’
Mamie took two or three rapid breaths, calming herself. ‘She is the person sending the poison-pen letters, and that photo.’
Robert shook his head and said calmly, ‘No. Not Faith. Who told you that?’
‘Mike.’
‘How the hell does he know?’
‘Apparently, he saw Faith and Ben standing at the bus stop, waiting for the Trevay bus, and he offered them a lift.’
‘And?’
‘She must have been going in to post the letters, because after he’d dropped them off he found them in the footwell of the back seat, where she’d been sitting. They must have fallen out of that stupid floppy bag she has.’
‘And he read them? What kind of creep does that?’
‘He said he had a feeling something was wrong. Why would Faith be posting letters addressed to Piran, me and Robbie? You had already told him about the first letter, to Angela, and he put two and two together.’
Robert shifted in his chair. ‘He should have brought them straight here. To me. It can’t be her, it must be that awful boyfriend of hers—’
‘No, Robert, it’s her. Mike talked to Faith. She was mortified and admitted it all. She promised never ever to do it again if he promised not to tell anyone.’
Robert stood up and reached for the wine glass sitting on his desk. He took a large swig and wiped his mouth. ‘The only way to get to the truth of this is to confront her. Where is she?’
‘Maybe in her room?’
‘Right.’ He stalked out of the study and Mamie heard him calling Faith from the bottom of the stairs.
‘Faith?’
Her voice came back muffled through her bedroom door. ‘What?’
‘Come down to my study now, please.’
‘Hang on. I’m just talking to a friend—’
‘Come down this minute,’ he roared.
Angela came out of the kitchen. ‘What’s going on?’
Faith slunk down the stairs in loose jogging bottoms, her hair wrapped up in a towel and a green face-pack on. ‘What?’
‘In my study,’ growled Robert.
Angela followed them and sat near to an obviously upset Mamie. ‘What’s going on?’ she asked.
Faith was beginning to look nervous. ‘What’s happened?’
Robert picked up the three envelopes. Faith’s eyes widened. Her cheeks began to burn.
‘Recognise these?’ Robert asked.
‘No.’ Her eyes slid to the floor.
Sighing, Robert asked again. ‘One more go. Do you recognise these?’
Faith began picking at her nail polish. ‘I don’t know.’
‘What are they?’ Angela asked.
‘Tell your mother what these are, please.’ Robert’s voice was dangerously calm.
Faith burst into tears. ‘I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. He said he wouldn’t tell anyone. I promised not to do it again.’ She grew more hysterical with every word. Angela jumped up and held her.
‘It’s OK, darling. It’s OK.’ She looked at Robert, confusion and worry furrowing her brow.
‘No, Angela,’ Mamie said. ‘It’s not OK. Read them.’
Angela took the envelopes and read each letter silently. When she saw the incriminating photograph she raised her head to Robert. ‘What is this?’
Robert exhaled deeply. ‘I know what it looks like.’ He turned to Faith. ‘Did you take this?’
Faith’s expression was one of pure anger. ‘Mum was scared you were having an affair with Helen,’ she spat. ‘Spending so much time with her at her cosy little cottage. I heard Mum talking about it. How much you were hurting her.’
Angela gasped. ‘When did you hear me saying that?’
‘I can hear everything you and Mamie talk about in the garden from my bedroom window. I wanted to find out if it was true so I followed him,’ she indicated Robert, ‘and her. On my bike. They went and had lunch at a swanky restaurant. Afterwards they kissed each other. And there’s the proof.’
Angela was stunned. ‘It was you? You wrote those letters?’
‘Yes.’ Faith’s jaw jutted out defiantly. ‘And I would do it again if it was to protect you.’
Angela was thinking. ‘But the first letter was to me. Telling me to leave the village. That I wasn’t wanted here. You wrote that?’
‘Yeah.’
Angela felt sick, shock rippling through her. ‘Why? It doesn’t make sense.’
Faith’s jutted lip began to tremble, ‘Because I didn’t like it here. I missed my friends and stupid Helen wouldn’t leave Dad alone. I was scared that you and Dad would get divorced or something. I just wanted everything to be all right, to go back to normal. I thought if you got a letter telling you you weren’t wanted here, we could leave and get back home again.’
‘So that’s why you sent me the one about Dad having a secret?’
‘Yeah.’ Faith wiped strings of snot from her nose onto her sleeve. ‘Yeah. But it just got you more upset, so then I thought you’d know it was me so I had to write to other people as well.’
‘To put them off the scent?’ Mamie raised an eyebrow. ‘Too many letters coming just to us otherwise?’
‘Yeah.’ Faith shifted the weight from one hip to another, looking at floor, not able to look her mother, father or Mamie in the eye.
‘Oh, Faith, what have you done? And how on earth did you find out about Robbie’s cancer scare?’
‘Your stupid weekly Pals meetings.’ Faith’s voice was defiant. ‘I listen in. Upstairs. When we first moved here, little Jenna showed me a secret hiding space under the floorboards in her room. She kept her sweets and little things there. So, I did the same thing. But when I lifted the board up one night, to show Ben, we could hear you all talking.’
Robert ran his hand over his face. ‘This just gets worse.’
Angela was horrified. ‘That’s a breach of confidentiality! I encouraged the girls to s
hare things in safety here. Things they did not want to share with anyone else.’ She dropped her head in her hands. ‘Dear God.’
Mamie broke the ensuing silence. ‘Since we seem to be playing the truth game, Robert, for the record, are you having or have you had an affair with Helen?’
‘Jesus Christ, what do you think?’ he exploded.
‘A simple yes or no will do,’ Mamie said.
‘NO!’ he roared, making the three women jump. ‘Angela, look at me.’ He was desperate. ‘Look at me. How could I ever be unfaithful to you? You and Faith are everything to me. I could never, would never do that to you.’
Angela tried to swallow an uncomfortable lump in her throat. ‘Truly?’
‘Yes.’ He went to her and knelt at her feet. He held her hands tenderly. ‘It’s always been you. You didn’t really think, did you … that I could …’
‘I was jealous,’ Angela said simply. ‘My sin was to be jealous and untrusting. Helen is everything I’m not. Can you forgive me?’
Robert held her to him. ‘It’s me who should say sorry. I shouldn’t have given you cause for worry.’
Mamie snorted, ‘I told you he was not having a fling with her.’ Conveniently ignoring the fact that up until a few minutes ago she’d fallen for the lie hook, line and sinker!
‘Then why are they kissing in that picture?’ Angela asked quietly.
‘I’ll tell you,’ Robert said. ‘I kissed her to thank her for being my plus one for the restaurant review I was going to write. As I bent to get her cheek, she moved her head and I accidentally caught her lips. I apologised, she laughed. End of.’
‘Is that what you saw, Faith?’ Mamie asked.
‘Well, yeah,’ Faith said miserably. ‘And I have stopped. I promised Mike …’
Mamie gave her a cool look. ‘But you did do it again, didn’t you?’
‘No. I swear.’ Faith was panicking.
‘Yes, you did,’ Mamie told her. ‘After Mike’s accident at the Pond Dig, you sent one to Polly. Telling her that witches like her should be drowned.’
‘No, I never.’
Robert looked at her. ‘You’re lying.’
Faith collapsed into Angela’s arms, smearing wet green face-pack onto her mother’s T-shirt.
‘It was you, wasn’t it?’ asked Angela gently.
‘Yee … ss,’ Faith sobbed.
A thought suddenly occurred to Mamie. ‘If you wrote the letters Mike found, weeks ago, how did you know about my cannabis? That was before you caught me in the act.’
Faith stopped crying. ‘I …’
‘You went into my room and went through my things.’ Mamie knew instinctively that this was the truth. ‘Well, well. A snoop, a nasty letter-writer and a liar.’
Faith’s sobbing grew louder.
‘I am disappointed to my core, Faith,’ Mamie said with contempt. ‘To. My. Core.’
Faith disentangled herself from her mother and ran upstairs.
‘I’ll go,’ said Angela.
‘I’m coming with you.’ Robert followed her.
They found Faith curled on the bed, her back to her parents, eyes closed and miserable.
Swallowing her anger, Angela sat on the edge of the mattress and stroked Faith’s hair. ‘Have you been unhappy ever since we got here?’
‘I was,’ mumbled Faith. ‘Things got better when I met Ben, but when I thought Dad was having an affair things got worse again.’
‘I see. And what about now we have found out the truth and you know that Dad and I are OK?’
Faith rolled over, her tear-streaked face and puffy eyes telling Angela with more than words how sorry she was.
‘I’m embarrassed,’ Faith said. ‘I want to go back home because everyone will know what I did and they’ll hate me and people at school will hear and I’ll get left out again as the new girl with the funny “up country” posh accent.’
‘No, they won’t.’ Angela tried to soothe her.
‘But that’s what they do.’
‘You were bullied?’
‘Of course.’
‘What? Why didn’t you tell us?’
‘Would have made things worse. Then one day, when the girls were picking on me at break, Ben sort of rescued me. He was being bullied too. He was called all sorts of names for being gay.’
Robert, who had been pacing the room as he listened, stopped. ‘I’m going to have words with that bloody headteacher. How can she not see that bullying is going on in her school?’
‘She does, Dad. But not everyone reports it because bad things happen to sneaks. Ben handles it. He’s been great. He’s respected loads. Even the bullies respect him.’
‘Well, that’s as may be, but the school needs to know.’ Robert was insistent. ‘I will not have my child bullied.’
‘Darling.’ Angela reached up to him. ‘One thing at a time.’ She turned back to Faith. ‘As it happens, we may be leaving here a bit earlier than we thought. I’ve been put forward for a job in Oxfordshire. A village called Wallingford. My own church. I have been putting off telling you because I was sure you were happy here. I didn’t want to drag you off to another school so soon.’
‘You’ve not mentioned anything to me,’ said Robert. ‘When would they want you?’
‘Soon. Before Christmas. It’s on the London train line if you want to commute.’
‘London?’ Faith’s eyes were round with hope.
Robert brightened up. ‘Interesting. So, do you have to have an interview?’
‘I had one,’ Angela admitted. ‘Over the phone. Last week.’
‘And?’ asked Faith.
‘Well, they have actually offered me the job but I wanted to talk it through with you both … when the time was right.’
Faith sat up and swung her arms around her mother’s neck. ‘The time is right now! Please, please can we go?’
Angela smiled. ‘There’s a lot to think about.’
‘Hold on,’ said Robert. ‘I am not going to allow Faith’s recent, appalling misdemeanours to be forgotten this quickly.’ He frowned down at her. ‘You and I, young lady, will be having a very serious talk tomorrow morning. We are all too tired and emotions are heightened this evening. But tomorrow, this family is going to do some serious talking before we even consider moving away. Understood?’
‘Yes, Dad.’
‘Good. Ah, and one other thing I need to know. Where is the loose floorboard?’
Faith got off her bed and went to the corner of her room beneath the big window. She lifted the carpet edge to reveal an old, oak plank. Pressing the far left corner, Robert saw that the bottom edge lifted enough to put a small finger under it and pull.
‘There,’ said Faith.
Robert put his hand inside, right up to his elbow, and felt about. ‘Aha.’ He pulled out Mr Worthington’s whistle.
He went in again. This time he retrieved the parish cheque book.
Then the keys to the garage, and finally a small box of blue Basildon Bond stationery.
‘I presume this is the paper you used for the first letter telling Mum she wasn’t wanted here?’ he said to Faith.
Faith said in a quiet voice, ‘Yes.’
‘And Mr Worthington’s whistle is the one I have accused Mum of losing?’
‘Yes,’ she said in a tiny voice.
‘And shall I presume that this is where you hid Mum’s iPad? Her phone? Her keys? So that I would think she was losing her memory?’
Faith nodded, ashamed.
Robert and Angela stared at each other in shock. It was as if they didn’t know the daughter that stood in front of them, suddenly looking so young in her PJs, the face-mask now all rubbed off with the tears that had run down her face.
‘All this because you were so unhappy and wanted to go back towards London?’ asked Angela.
‘Yes.’
‘Well then,’ said Robert, replacing the floorboard and flopping the carpet back into place. ‘I think the sooner we leave here the better.’
35
‘My word!’ Mike used his new crutches to push the drawing room door open and gazed in wonder at his perfectly organised temporary bedroom. ‘That must have taken some doing to get the bed down here. Heavy piece of kit.’
Mamie kicked the front door shut behind her and dropped his bags on the stairs.
‘Cup of tea?’ she asked.
‘What time is it?’
She pushed up her sleeve and checked her small wristwatch. ‘Coming up to four o’clock.’
Mike swung himself and his crutches towards his armchair. ‘In that case, we are just in time for Tipping Point and a glass of Scotch.’
Mamie shook her head. ‘Uh-uh. No alcohol with the painkillers. I promised your doctor.’
‘Oh, for goodness’ sake.’ He lowered himself into the chair. ‘A small one won’t do any harm. Have one with me.’
‘You are a bad influence,’ she laughed. ‘Just the one then. Here, let me pass you the telly clicker.’
As she poured two generous glasses of Scotch with a drop of soda, he turned the television on to Tipping Point and she handed him his glass.
‘Cheers.’
‘Salut,’ he returned.
As they sat together, Mamie felt the stresses of the last forty-eight hours slip away. She was giving Angela, Robert and Faith some space and found refuge by Mike’s side. She surprised herself with quite how much she enjoyed shouting out the answers to the quiz questions, both of them happily pouring scorn on any wrong answers supplied by the contestants.
‘He’s a bloody fool,’ Mike said of a hapless young man who didn’t know the first names of Morecambe and Wise. ‘Eric and Ernie, you numbskull,’ he shouted at the screen.
Mamie patted his arm. ‘The poor boy’s not even twenty. How is he supposed to know?’
‘General knowledge, my dear. I wasn’t alive when Churchill made his great speeches but I sure as hell know what he said.’
‘That’s because everyone does.’
‘Not that idiot. I bet he doesn’t even know who the Prime Minister is.’
‘Shh. I can’t hear the question.’
Quiz host Ben Shephard was speaking. ‘Who won the 2017 Nobel Prize for Literature?’
