Intrigue in the Village (Turnham Malpas 10)

by Shaw, Rebecca

  As she reached him, he took her hand and kissed it in the manner of a courtier of old, turned to the astounded guests and said, ‘May I have the pleasure of introducing my wife to you. This is Mrs Katherine Marguerita Fitch. I hope you will be as thrilled and delighted as I am today. I’m a very lucky man.’ He spoke from the heart, a shock in itself.

  No one moved: they were too stunned.

  A strained silence fell, which no one dared break.

  Then Muriel, entirely due to her kind heart, squeezed through the guests in front of her, took the bride’s hand, kissed her on both cheeks and said for all to hear, ‘My dear, how absolutely wonderful. You look . . . perfectly gorgeous. Yes, indeed. A princess to behold. And you, Craddock, much love. You’re right, you are a very lucky man.’ Muriel kissed him on both cheeks too and took hold of his free hand and shook it. ‘Congratulations, from all of us.’

  Mercifully, Muriel’s actions broke the spell. There was a rush of those nearest to the bridal couple to shake hands and offer their best wishes and congratulations. But they were scandalized. Old Fitch, with the emphasis on the old, marrying a slip of a girl like Kate Pascoe? She was still a newcomer to the village, but it felt as if they’d known her for years. Fancy her marrying that frozen old toad! She’d done it for the money. Oh yes. There couldn’t be any other reasonable interpretation put on this wild venture. He must be mad. To say nothing of her mental state. She’d gone completely crackers. That brush with death and black magic years ago had finally done for her.

  ‘Wouldn’t mind getting my hands on his money though,’ said Greta Jones, out of the corner of her mouth, to Grandmama Charter-Plackett.

  Grandmama was having great difficulty restraining herself from protesting out loud at this utter folly. Grimly, she forced out the words she would later come to regret. ‘I give them three months.’

  ‘Well, fair’s fair, I’ll give them six months. But I must say she makes a beautiful bride. Very beautiful.’ Greta continued to watch people wishing the bridal couple well, thinking Kate might as well make the best of it while she could. But the alimony . . . my God, she was no fool. Greta, who’d struggled all her married life with the family finances never stretching as far as needed, envied Kate with heart and soul.

  Grandmama Charter-Plackett felt disgust. What was that ridiculous man doing marrying a mere girl? Kate was old enough to make up her own mind, she supposed, but really . . . If ever there was a recipe for disaster, this was it. She’d always known Craddock Fitch hadn’t come out of the top drawer, much as he might like to think he did. He didn’t quite carry it off. There were a few little cracks in his attitude that spoke volumes, and this was one; quite a big crack, actually. Still, she wouldn’t want him, certainly not, and he definitely wouldn’t want her. She smiled ruefully and said to Greta, ‘Well, we may as well get what we can while the glow lasts.’

  Greta nudged her and laughed. ‘You’re right there.’ They helped themselves to a glass of champagne each as a waiter in tails and bow tie passed between them.

  Then Jimbo stood on a chair and proposed the toast to the happy couple.

  Greta’s mouth dropped open. So, he did know all about it. Damn him! The secretive sod. She’d give him a piece of her mind when she went to work on Monday.

  Everyone raised their glasses to the happy couple. Muriel toasted them with tears of happiness in her eyes. She looked at Ralph and said, ‘Oh, Ralph, isn’t it lovely? I’m so pleased for them both. They make a shining couple, don’t they? I’ve never seen her looking so charming, in fact beautiful. It must be love.’

  Ralph downed his champagne and took a second one from a passing tray. ‘Exactly.’

  But there was something in his tone that alerted Muriel. ‘Ralph?’

  ‘She’s married him for his money, my dear, make no mistake about that.’

  ‘Shush! Ralph!’

  ‘Believe me. No woman would want him for himself. It’s the millions she’s after.’

  Muriel opened her bag to search for her handkerchief. ‘Ralph! I’ve forgotten my . . . where is it?’

  ‘Here you are.’ Ralph gave her the handkerchief from his jacket pocket. ‘Don’t upset yourself. They’ve made their own bed and so far as I am concerned, they can lie in it.’ He picked up a third glass from a passing waiter and sipped it with relish.

  ‘Ralph! I’m ashamed of you. How very ungenerous. It’s not like you at all.’ She wiped her eyes, but before she’d managed to regain control, she saw to her horror that Mr Fitch and Kate were making their way between the guests, speaking to people right and left, and heading apparently straight for her and Ralph. Oh no! She so hoped there wasn’t going to be a scene. Someone turned and knocked her glass with their elbow. Champagne ran down Muriel’s bare wrist and up her sleeve. She dabbed at herself, desperate not to be looking a fool when the bride and groom reached them. The glass was almost empty. Ralph took it from her and picked up a second glass for her from yet another silver tray making its way round. Well, he’d say this for him, he was more than generous. Ah! Here they come. He’d better not gloat, hadn’t old Fitch. He, Ralph, had better take the initiative.

  ‘Good evening, Fitch. Good evening, Kate. What a wonderful surprise! Such a very well-kept secret. I do hope, very sincerely, that you’ll both be very happy indeed.’

  Mr Fitch looked eyeball to eyeball at Ralph and they squared up to each other like boxers measuring one another’s strength and intentions. Ralph kissed Kate on both cheeks and whispered, ‘You look wonderful, truly wonderful.’

  ‘Isn’t she a treasure, Ralph? I’m a very lucky man.’

  ‘Indeed you are.’

  Mr Fitch put an arm around Kate’s waist. ‘She took some persuading, but I got her in the end. Didn’t I, darling?’

  Kate smiled.

  Ralph continued with his self-imposed politeness. ‘However did you manage to keep it such a secret? We all think nothing goes on in this village that we don’t know about and here you are, inviting us to celebrate twenty-five years of commercial success when all the time it’s a wedding party. Splendid!’

  Muriel beamed her pleasure that there hadn’t been a scene and decided Ralph really was a gentleman after all. Then she realized what the marriage would mean to the village. ‘You’ll be stopping teaching then, Kate, now you’re married? The school will miss you. We’ll have to start getting used to someone else. Oh dear!’

  ‘I shall still teach, Muriel. Can’t live without my children.’

  ‘But won’t you perhaps be having . . .’ Muriel lolled her head teasingly to the side and smiled.

  Kate answered as gently as she could, not wishing to upset Muriel who in her book was far too sweet to rebuff. ‘No. We shan’t.’

  ‘Oh! I see. I hoped perhaps for Craddock’s sake . . . and yours, of course, that you might . . .’

  Ralph saw Muriel was getting herself in deep water. ‘My dear, I’m sure it’s perfectly possible to be married without children coming along. Lots of couples make that choice nowadays.’

  ‘Well, you did, didn’t you, Ralph?’ Mr Fitch took a grip on Kate’s elbow and moved her on. A fleeting look of, well, it could only be called hate, directed solely at Ralph, crossed Mr Fitch’s face as he moved away.

  Muriel took a moment to absorb the insult. When she did she paled and dared not look at Ralph for fear of what she’d read in his face. How could the man be so cruel on his wedding day? He knew she and Ralph hadn’t married until the time to have children was long past. Ralph had endeavoured to be so thoughtful and it hurt her to the core. She felt like crying but didn’t; she wouldn’t give Mr Fitch the satisfaction nor Ralph the embarrassment. Her backbone of steel was brought into action and she stood, stonily listening to the orchestra, which had struck up, and wishing she could escape. Then she saw Kate and Mr Fitch head towards the dining-room door, and the guests begin to file through to the buffet, shaking hands with the bride and groom before they went in. Horror of horrors! Ralph and she would have to shake hands
or it would be round in a trice how rude they’d been and everyone would wonder why.

  Muriel glanced at Ralph and saw he was white at the gills, straining to control his anger. She placed a timid, consoling hand in his and drew his arm through hers.

  ‘We’ll brave it out, the two of us together. We must or they’ll all be talking. I don’t think he realized what he’d said, you know.’

  ‘He knew all right. Come, let’s be the best of guests and smile. At least we can eat his food and drink his champagne without a qualm. The bad manners are all on his part. Come, my dear, forward!’

  The buffet table looked so wonderful it seemed almost unreal. To say no expense had been spared was an understatement. It was dazzlingly colourful and so beautifully arranged it felt like a crime to disturb the design. Salivary glands were working overtime, however, and once the bride and groom had helped themselves, they all tucked in. The Misses Senior, having brought plastic bags hidden in their cavernous handbags, almost rubbed their hands with glee. They’d be able to steal enough food to last them a week and no one would be the wiser. There were four places where guests could pick up their plates and napkins and begin to load their plates, and it was surprising how quickly everyone had chosen their food and had wandered away to find space to eat.

  Peter sought out Jimbo to compliment him. Jimbo was eating from a well-stacked plate but at the same time his eyes were constantly surveying the room, keeping a check on everything. ‘Jimbo! Congratulations feels inadequate, but what else can one say? The buffet table is unbelievable. What a triumph! We managed to keep the secret, didn’t we? I don’t know how. I didn’t even tell Caroline.’

  ‘Well, Harriet had to know, obviously, because there was the wedding cake to make. Wait till you see it. Fitch left the design to Harriet and she’s as nervous as hell in case he doesn’t like it. They’ll be wheeling it in soon. I say, look at Ralph, over there by the fireplace. He looks livid and so does Muriel. I wonder what’s happened?’

  ‘No idea, I’m afraid. Best not ask.’

  ‘Got to go,’ Jimbo said suddenly. ‘Harriet’s signalling that the cake’s about to be brought in.’

  It was the most stupendous wedding cake that had ever been seen in Turnham Malpas or any of the surrounding villages come to that. Four tiers placed on a vast silver stand were smothered in peach and cream icing sugar flowers, and real matching flowers stood in small, trumpet-shaped silver vases atop each tier. It was truly magnificent. If it had been the wedding of a duke and duchess it couldn’t have been more triumphant.

  It was only when they were all invited outside to see the fireworks that everyone realized the perfectly wonderful evening of food, wine, dancing and jollity was about to end.

  Fountains and rockets were spectacular and at the end, the intertwining of K and C in brilliant, multi-coloured Catherine wheels finished the evening in great style.

  Filled to the brim with food, drink and bonhomie, the guests wended their way home on foot or by car, leaving Kate and Mr Fitch to make their own way up to his flat.

  Kate sank into an armchair, drained of energy, while Craddock went to the drinks table to make them both a nightcap.

  ‘What a day, Craddock. What a day.’

  He turned from the drinks table to look at her. ‘But wonderful?’

  She smiled. ‘Of course. I’m glad the service was private and just for us. It felt so special. I was right, wasn’t I?’

  ‘Yes, you were. Here’s your drink, just how you like it.’ He slumped down into the other armchair, toasted his wife, then drank the whisky straight off. ‘It’s going to be different having someone to talk to in the evenings. That will give me such pleasure.’

  Kate smiled again. Looking down at her glass, she swirled it about for a moment by the stem and then said, ‘I wish you hadn’t said that to Ralph.’

  ‘Now, Kate, I say what I think fit.’

  ‘It wasn’t fit and you didn’t think. It was insulting. You knew full well he has never had children and that Muriel and he married when it was far too late.’

  ‘Well, the sod was inferring I needed an excuse not to have children, meaning I was far too old to father a child. Which I’m not.’

  ‘He meant nothing of the kind. He was trying to get Muriel out of the big hole she was digging for herself and well you know it.’

  Craddock made a dismissive gesture and tried to change the subject. ‘I’ve been thinking—’

  ‘I won’t have it, for your own sake as much as mine. No wonder they don’t like you if you come out with remarks like that.’

  ‘Don’t like me? Me?’

  Kate nodded.

  ‘But they’ve all enjoyed themselves tonight, loved it in fact. Thanked me for it. How can they not like me?’

  ‘They have no respect and certainly no love for you, Craddock, and you’re going to have to earn Brownie points with them somehow. They take all you give, then they go home and laugh at your extravagance.’

  Craddock was stunned. ‘How do you know this?’

  ‘Because I take the trouble to listen to them and watch. I’m not a teacher for nothing. I can attend to the child I’m speaking to and still know exactly what’s going on in the rest of the class, and it’s the same with grown-ups. I see them talking out of the corner of their mouths about you. To your face they say what they know you want to hear.’

  ‘That’s a bit of a broadside for my wedding night. It was a splendid wedding party, went off without a hitch. How can you say they didn’t enjoy themselves? I thought they did.’

  ‘Oh, they did! Very much. And, yes, the party was splendid and the cake a dream. But they will take all you can give and still not respect you for it.’

  ‘You’ve never said this before.’

  ‘I’ve never been your wife before.’

  ‘True. But you are now.’ He stared into the distance, turning his whisky glass round and round in his hands. Kate stood up. Craddock looked up at her, overcome again at how beautiful she was in her spectacular dress. ‘You looked so exquisite this morning. Your dress was a wonderful surprise. Grey suit, my eye.’ He paused for a moment, then added humbly, ‘Will you help me?’

  ‘To stand up? Of course.’ She crossed the hearthrug and stretched out her hand, a wicked grin on her face. ‘Up you come.’

  ‘I don’t need pulling up! Heaven’s above, I’m not in my dotage! I meant to get the village to like me, if not love me. Will you help?’ He looked so downcast standing there, genuinely pleading.

  She took his hand in hers and kissed it, squeezing it tightly. ‘Of course I will. We’ve both been around a bit, seen the world, but today, for me, is like coming home into a safe harbour. We’re going to have such fun. You and me together. Each doing our own thing out in the hurly-burly, well, you more than me, but married and happy. So happy.’ Kate leaned towards him and kissed him gently on the lips. ‘I nearly got the chauffeur to take me back home this morning, thought I couldn’t go through with it, but I’m very glad I did.’

  As they trailed upstairs, arms around each other’s waists, Craddock Fitch decided his new wife was full of surprises. Life was certainly going to be lively married to Mrs Kate Fitch.

  Chapter 2

  There was a knot of people waiting outside the Village Store for the Saturday morning bus into Culworth. It was pouring down so they were huddled under umbrellas, comparing notes about the party.

  Someone from Hipkin Gardens rolled her eyes and said, ‘It was the desserts I liked. That meringue thingy with the nuts was superb.’

  ‘And the chocolate sauce they poured over that wicked ice cream was out of this world.’

  ‘Thank God it wasn’t raining like this last night else we’d have been soaked watching that firework display. They’re never the same in rain, are they?’

  A neighbour nudged Greta Jones and winked. ‘I slept like a log last night I was that tired. Bet I know two people who didn’t.’

  Rather primly for her Greta answered, ‘Well, of course
, I know nothing about that. I’m just surprised they managed to keep it so secret. No one I spoke to last night had the slightest idea something was going on.’

  ‘Same here. Not an inkling. They say . . .’

  Their heads grew closer. ‘Yes? Go on.’

  ‘They say she’s not having any children. Put her foot down apparently.’

  ‘No!’

  ‘She needn’t bother putting her foot down. It’s not likely with him being so . . . old.’ A burst of laughter emerged from under the umbrellas. ‘There must be twenty, twenty-five years between them.’

  ‘There is a limit, isn’t there? Honestly! I don’t know what she can be thinking of.’

  ‘Maybe it’s love.’

  There was a chorus of disbelief.

  ‘They also say,’ someone shut their umbrella so they could draw closer, ‘she’s carrying on teaching.’

  ‘No!’

  ‘With all that money! Who the blazes would want to work with money like his on tap?’

  ‘Once she gets a taste for sunning herself in the Seychelles she’ll perhaps change her mind. I know I would. I hope Vera Wright’s on the bus. She won’t half have a surprise when we tell her.’

  ‘You wouldn’t catch me . . . here’s the bus. Oh, look! Vera’s on it. Come on! Mind my eye with that umbrella of yours. Wait till we tell her; she’ll have a surprise and not half.’

  Muriel saw the bus go by as she brought in the milk. She smiled to herself when she thought about how much tittle-tattle there’d be on the bus this morning and guessed it wouldn’t be about shopping. Muriel almost wished she were on the bus like she used to be on Saturdays. There was a lot to be said for having a car, but somehow this morning she felt she was missing out.

  Ralph had just come downstairs. They might have had a very late night last night but, my word, he looked handsome today. She went up to him and gave him a kiss.