Rhett looked pleased that he had an ally. ‘Yes, sir. Right.’
‘I must know who else is involved. If you can’t speak the unspeakable then put a note through my letterbox. I shan’t know who’s put it there, shall I, when you haven’t signed it?’
Rhett managed a slight smile. ‘I’m not going any more. I daren’t. But I might write that note.’
Ralph stood up. ‘I won’t have the life of this village torn apart. People can’t look each other in the eye any longer. It’s never been like that before. You and the rector and I shall put a stop to it.’ Ralph changed the tone of his voice. ‘By the way, I see you’re down for the cricket team, Rhett. Delighted. We need young chaps like you, and with all that hard work up at the Big House you’ll be building good muscle. We’ll make a batsman out of you yet!’
‘Bowling’s my thing.’ He imitated a bowling action and Ralph was impressed.
‘By jove! Very good. Yes. Mr Fitch is providing us with practice nets and I shall be interested to see how you develop. We’ll be off now.’
Peter said as he left, ‘Good night, Rhett.’ He shook Rhett’s hand and smiled encouragingly. ‘Thank you for all your help. You’re a grand chap with a lot going for you. Remember, I’m on your side in this. God bless you. Sleep well.’
Ralph and Peter crossed the road together and stood talking in the light of the lamp above Ralph’s door. ‘So now we know why the sergeant’s wife has gone so peculiar. She was obviously there that night too. That’s two names anyway.’
Ralph nodded. ‘Let’s hope he takes the hint and gives us the other names.’
‘He’s been dreadfully frightened. The shock of seeing the dog! No wonder he went berserk.’
‘Is there any wonder that he snatched at some kind of excitement? Things aren’t what they were when I was a boy, are they? I feel sorry for teenagers nowadays. When they’re too young to have their own transport what on earth do they do every night stuck here?’
‘Watch appalling videos?’ Peter asked.
Ralph groaned. ‘My goodness me. No wonder his mind worked overtime, no wonder at all. Any more ideas yourself about who’s involved?’
‘Might have. Good night.’
Chapter 22
The forty-eight hours were up and Peter had heard nothing from Kate, so when he took the twins to playgroup he made his way to Kate’s little office and tapped on the door.
‘No good knocking there, Rector. Ms Pascoe’s not in this morning. She’s in bed with a sore throat. We’ve a supply teacher coming any minute.’ Pat folded the duster she’d been using to get the early-morning dust from the piano keys and shook her head. ‘Oh yes, sore throat it is. She sounded really ill – could hardly speak. I’ve offered to go in and get her anything she needs but she said no, thanks.’
‘Oh dear, I am sorry.’
‘Hopes to be back in tomorrow, though I can’t see that, ’cos she sounded so dreadful. Didn’t seem quite right in the head, yer know. Her mind was wandering, kind of. If it’s urgent you could pop a note through her door. I know where she keeps her scrap paper.’
‘It’s not urgent, it can wait. Only six weeks to go to your wedding, Pat. Got everything organised?’
‘We have. We’ve not invited loads of guests, only from Barry’s side. Dad and me’s not got many relatives. I’m glad you and Dr Harris and the twins have accepted. Jimbo’s doing the food, so we know that’ll be good.’
‘Barry got the honeymoon arranged? He seemed very secretive about it when I spoke to him last.’
‘All I know is, it involves an aeroplane and hot weather and I’ve to pack a swimsuit and some suntan lotion and I’ve to have smart dresses for the evening. That’s why we’ve had such a long engagement – well, ten months – he’s been saving up for it. Says he wants the honeymoon of a lifetime as he won’t be going on another.’
Peter was about to relate to her the story of his own honeymoon when Hetty Hardaker brought her class in ready for prayers. Pat dashed off towards the kitchen.
‘Mrs Hardaker, would you like me to take prayers as Ms Pascoe is ill?’ Peter offered.
‘I would indeed, Rector, that would be a help. I’ll leave it to you and Miss Booth then, if I may.’
When prayers were finished, Peter went to stand in the school playground and look at the school-house. The bedroom curtains were drawn, and there were no signs of life at all, apart from the living-room windowsill where Cat lay sleeping.
As he set off back to the rectory he glanced towards the Store, and by chance sitting outside on the seat so thoughtfully provided by Jimbo, was someone with whom he wanted to have a word.
‘Good morning, Ellie.’
The sergeant’s wife looked up, startled, her lacklustre brown eyes showing no recognition. Her hair, never more than an orderly bird’s nest, was now quite awry, and her face, paler than ever, gave the impression the blood had been drained out of her. Her squashy nose sat like a lump of blanched dough on her face. Ellie could never have claimed to dress in the height of fashion, and she certainly wasn’t dressed in it now. Her coat was buttoned up wrongly, leaving the top edge on one side rubbing against her chin. Her tights were wrinkled, her shoes grubby and she had odd gloves on.
So that his height did not intimidate her, Peter sat down on the seat. It held four comfortably so he didn’t overcrowd her.
‘I haven’t seen you for a while. How are you?’
Ellie finally recognised who he was. ‘Don’t you ’ave nothin’ to do with me, Rector. You buzz orf. I ain’t your kind.’
‘Why’s that?’
‘I be evil, I be.’
‘Anyone less evil than you, Ellie, I couldn’t imagine.’
‘Oh, yes, I be.’
‘Why? What have you done? Robbed a bank?’
She looked puzzled. ‘Robbed a bank? That’d be nothin’, no, nothin’ that’d be.’
Peter sat silently waiting. Ellie eyed him furtively. She fidgeted with her gloves and looked at them with surprise as though realising for the first time that they were odd. She shuffled around in a coat pocket and came out with what was obviously one of her husband’s handkerchiefs. She blew her nose, wiped her eyes and then said, ‘If I went to church, would that get me out of it?’
‘Very likely.’
‘It gets a hold, yer see. Gets a hold. I’m frightened to sleep.’
‘Nightmares?’
She seemed relieved he’d got to the root of her problem. Her head nodded vigorously. ‘That’s right.’ Ellie shuddered. ‘Terrible.’
Peter sat companionably beside her.
Two people, one of them Mrs Jones, Pat’s future mother-in-law, came by the seat.
‘Good morning, Rector. Nice fresh day.’ She looked at Ellie then at Peter and strode inside eager to get on with her work, for the temporary takeover of Sadie’s mail-order business had changed to permanent and she loved it.
Ellie sat lost in thought. Jimbo came out with two coffees.
‘Chilly sitting out here. Mrs Jones thought a coffee might be welcome.’ He winked at Peter and went back inside to deal with his customers.
Ellie found the coffee too hot. ‘There’s no sugar in it either.’ Peter didn’t offer to go inside to get her any. He had the distinct feeling that if he left she would disappear. Then she gave a huge sigh. ‘I can’t go on no longer. Got to talk.’
‘I’m listening.’
She stared into the distance watching Jimmy’s geese chasing a dog away from their pond. ‘Life gets terrible boring living hereabouts. I’m a town girl myself, you know. Hustle and bustle I likes, really. That’s me. Markets and people and cinemas and things. Can’t stand all this quiet. Stood it fifteen years, then this happened and it pepped things up no end – at first. Really looked forward to it. Like a whole new world, it was. But, Rector, things is bad. That bad, I don’t knows which way to turn, I don’t.’ Tears straggled untidily down her cheeks and settled in the grooves beside her mouth.
‘Fun it was, exciting. ’Tain’t
exciting being married to the sergeant. He’s that predictable. Nothin’ different, always the same. Black treacle on his porridge summer and winter. He even stirs it just the same way every morning. Always says, “Isn’t this grand? Why don’t you ’ave some?” Every blessed mornin’. But the bonfire and the chantin’, like. Now that was thrillin’. But now I’m terrified.’
‘You don’t have to stay terrified.’
‘Don’t I?’ For the first time she stared directly into his eyes. ‘Look at what ’appens to them that defy her.’
‘What?’
‘School gets done over, don’t it?’
‘You mean Ms Pascoe defied her?’
Ellie nodded. ‘We ’as to attend, yer see. She’s got a grip. Be makin’ a doll like Ms Pascoe, she will, sticking pins in it. Oh yes, it’ll be the end of her.’
‘Who’ll be making the doll?’ As soon as he’d asked the question he knew he’d gone on ahead too far, too fast. Ellie leapt up from the seat, the coffee in its paper cup spewing out all over her coat. To delay her, Peter took out his handkerchief and, gripping her arm, sympathised over the spill and began to wipe it away. ‘There we are, Ellie, got you all clean and smart again. Now, where were we?’
Ellie sat down again. She gave the village green a full inspection and answered, ‘I don’t know where you are, Rector, but I’m in hell. Hell on earth.’
‘Look Ellie, tell me everything, get it off your chest so to speak. I shan’t tell her what you tell me. Believe me. As God is my judge, I shan’t say a word.’
She looked at him, assessing his trustworthiness. ‘She’s a witch, there’s no two ways about it. She put the evil eye on Mrs Beauchamp and she died. Then she had a go at bringing Sykes back to life, and she did. It was then I knew she really had killed Sadie Beauchamp. We couldn’t stop. Now she’s going to get rid of anyone who crosses her. Full of power now, yer see. Evil that’s what she be, and her with all them kiddies. Success has gone to her head. You’ve got to stop it, Rector. Something’s got to be done.’
‘I find it hard to believe that this mysterious “she” could actually kill someone.’
‘Oh, but she did. Oh yes. There weren’t no proper verdict, were there? Not heart attack nor nothing. It be very peculiar. We’re all joined to her in sisterhood, so we’s all guilty of murder.’ Ellie clutched his hand. ‘Help me, Rector.’
‘I can’t help unless I know who’s the witch.’
Ellie stood up. ‘If I tell you I’ll be dead in the mornin’. That’s the threat – death. I sometimes think it would be for the best.’ She looked vaguely about her and then said, ‘The sergeant wants steak for his dinner. I’ll have to go and see to that.’ And Ellie trailed off into the Store leaving Peter studying the geese.
So it wasn’t Kate. Unwittingly Ellie had told him who the witch was – Simone Paradise. She always had been strange. Her lifestyle told one that, even if one didn’t know about the evil eye and such-like. Kate had said ‘be careful’. Even though he never acknowledged it to Caroline, for the logical part of his brain denied the truth of it, he still felt shudders down his spine when he recalled the two near-brushes with death he’d had over the church charity fund a while back. And now this, too, was evil and menacing.
Witchcraft. Was it witchcraft or someone pretending it was? Whatever, people were believing it. What he had to do was witness what went on. But now he didn’t know where they met. And there was this business of making a doll … and Kate was ill. He shot to his feet. Caroline was the answer. As soon as she came back from the surgery he’d get her on to it.
He got home about half-past one, hoping that she would be able to have a late lunch with him. ‘Caroline! Caroline!’
She came running down the stairs. She’d changed from her surgery suit and was wearing a hyacinth-blue jumper with black trousers and she looked lovely. He desired her, but that would have to wait.
He bent down and kissed her lips. ‘I’m late. Had lunch?’
‘No. Waited for you.’
‘Good. Need a word.’
Sylvia had made their lunch for them and it was waiting under wraps on the kitchen table.
‘Thank you, Sylvia. We need a quiet moment, if you don’t mind.’
‘Not at all, Rector. Coffee’s ready in the pot. I’ll go and sit with the children. It’s Sesame Street time.’
As Sylvia closed the door behind her, Caroline said, ‘What’s so private that Sylvia can’t hear?’
‘I want you to go across to the school-house and see if Kate is ill.’
Caroline raised an eyebrow. ‘What are you up to, Peter?’
Peter explained his conversation with Ellie.
With her sandwich halfway to her mouth, Caroline said, ’Oh my God! Really!’
‘That’s why she was so frightened when Sykes turned up – well, not Sykes, as you know, but she thought it was. She thought then she knew that Simone really had done Sadie in.’
‘Oh my God! I can’t believe this.’
‘Exactly.’
‘But it can’t be proved, can it?’
‘Well, she didn’t do it really, did she? Now come on, darling, you know it’s not possible.’
Caroline looked doubtful. ‘Isn’t it?’
‘No, definitely not. It’s all in the mind.’
‘Yes, it is. But it’s like witch-doctors in Africa – they can have a powerful influence on the mind.’
‘For heaven’s sake, Caroline, you’re a scientist, a person with a trained mind. You are not allowed to believe it.’
‘No, of course not, but …’
‘So will you go? Pretend you’re concerned and can you help in your capacity as—’
‘A nosy-parker?’
Peter laughed. ‘If you like.’
She finished her sandwich, took a long drink of her coffee, and said, ‘I’m off then. To do the rector’s dirty work.’
‘I can hardly go myself, can I?’
‘Certainly not. Don’t eat my fruit pie. I’ll have it when I get back.’
Caroline knocked on the front door of the school-house knowing she wouldn’t get an answer, but she had to knock first. She went round the side and looked in through the kitchen window. There was a mug and a plate on the drainer by the sink, but nothing else. So presumably Kate had had something to eat at some time. As Caroline peered in, Cat came into the kitchen. She jumped up onto the draining board and licked the plate, jumped down again and prowled about and cried.
Caroline went to stand below the bedroom window. ‘Kate! Kate! It’s Caroline Harris. Let me in.’ There was no reply. Caroline could hear the children having a singing lesson. She checked that Kate’s car was there. It was, so she must be either in school or in the house.
In school there was no sign of Kate. A teacher Caroline didn’t recognise was taking the singing. She went to tap on Hetty Hardaker’s door. ‘Ms Pascoe not here?’
‘No, Dr Harris. She’s in bed with a sore throat. Sorry.’
Caroline acknowledged the information by nodding her head and smiling. So she was in the house.
Pat was leaving after clearing up from school lunch. ‘Hello, Dr Harris. Long time no see.’
‘It is. How are things, Pat?’
‘Fine, thanks.’
‘Not long now.’
‘No, that’s right.’
‘Got your suntan lotion ready?’
‘So you know about it too.’
‘Oh yes, but my lips are sealed! I wish I could get into the school-house. I’m worried about Kate.’
Pat went to a drawer below the kitchen draining board. She pushed her hand right to the back, behind the tea towels she kept in there, and came out with a huge key. ‘Here we are. Spare key she doesn’t know I’ve got.’
‘But how shall I explain that?’
‘If she’s dead you won’t have to.’
‘Dead?!’
‘You don’t know these days, do yer, with all these strange things going on hereabouts. Anything could have �
�appened.’
‘Now I really am feeling spooky. Come with me?’
‘Sorry, no. Not again.’
‘You’ve been in before then?’ Pat nodded. ‘What have you seen that makes you not want to go again?’
Pat shook her head. ‘Nothing. Time I was off. Good luck.’
‘Won’t you wait to see?’
‘I’ll know soon enough. Sorry.’
The key turned readily in the lock. ‘Kate! Kate!’ Caroline called. There was no reply.
Caroline went cautiously up the stairs. She was being ridiculous. She’d seen plenty of dead people before now – had dissected them, in fact. But she really didn’t want to see Kate dead, still less contemplate all the conclusions the village would draw if she were.
She wasn’t dead. But she was dreadfully ill. Caroline could immediately see that she had a raging temperature and was quite oblivious to her surroundings. She’d thrown off her duvet at some stage and lay haphazardly on the mattress like a doll carelessly flung down in a temper. Sweat poured from her face, and her body glistened with it. Her nightgown, which Caroline couldn’t help noticing was deep purple satin, was soaking. Her long dark hair lay like damp ropes on the pillow and around her shoulders.
‘Kate? Kate?’ But she couldn’t be wakened.
Caroline ran downstairs and dialled Emergency. ‘This is Dr Harris speaking. I need an ambulance.’
Caroline went with Kate to the hospital and gave the duty officer in Casualty as much information as she could. When the doctors heard Kate had worked in Africa for several years they said that might be a possible area to look at when diagnosing what the matter was.
Caroline went to see her each day, but it wasn’t until the fourth day that she was able to speak.
‘Kate – at last! I thought you would never wake up. How do you feel?’
‘Terrible!’ Her voice was slight and very husky.
‘Better than when I first found you, anyway. You’ve been getting the full treatment. Everyone’s been so worried about you.’
‘Sorry.’
‘I’ve been worried that there might be someone I should have contacted, but I didn’t know who.’
‘There isn’t anyone really. My brothers are all abroad. I have an uncle but he wouldn’t come to see me anyway.’ A tear slid from the corner of her eye.
Village Secrets Page 19
