Village Secrets

by Shaw, Rebecca

  ‘Now, Harriet!’

  ‘Right, that’s it. You’re not listening to what I’m saying. Sitting on the fence you are and waiting to see which way to jump. Well, I’m not having it.’ She got up from the sofa and went to get her coat from the hall cupboard. ‘The meal’s all ready in the oven. I’ll leave you to it.’

  ‘Harriet, please! I haven’t agreed anything, you know.’

  ‘No, but you soon will. She’ll steamroller you like she always does.’

  ‘She doesn’t!’

  Harriet looked sadly at him. ‘Jimbo, she does. It’s not fair. I was so looking forward to Flick being May Queen. Now I shan’t enjoy one minute of it, thinking about her coming to live here. It’s all ruined. Ruined!’ Her eyes brimmed with tears and threatened to spill over onto her cheeks. She shrugged on her coat, picked up her handbag and stormed out of the front door. Flick and Fran were crying and so too, almost, was Jimbo.

  He heard the car rev up, watched her drive away, and sent up a silent prayer for her safety. Jimbo scooped up Fran and took hold of Flick’s hand. ‘We’ll get the boys their drink and biscuits out, come on.’ He looked down at Flick and her grief-stricken face broke his heart. For her sake he had to stop his voice shaking when he reassured her. ‘Don’t worry, she’ll be back. Mummy’s just a bit cross, that’s all. She’ll have to come back, ’cos she hasn’t got her toothbrush with her.’

  Flick smiled through her tears and squeezed Jimbo’s hand. ‘Of course, she’ll have to come back. She’s so particular about her teeth, isn’t she?’

  Jimbo discovered Harriet cleaning her teeth when he went to their bathroom. He had been sitting in Fergus’ bedroom talking with him man to man about women and the problems they could cause men.

  ‘When all’s said and done, Dad, are they worth all the trouble?’

  ‘Definitely. Oh yes. Can’t manage without ’em. Bless their hearts.’

  ‘Well, with the problems you’ve got with Gran and now with Mum.’

  ‘Ah, well. There you are.’

  Fergus settled down to sleep and asked as Jimbo was switching off the light, ‘She will be back, won’t she?’

  ‘Of course.’

  Jimbo stood in the bathroom doorway enjoying the sight of Harriet bent over the washbasin. As she rinsed her mouth for the last time she brought up her head and saw him in the mirror. They looked at each other for a moment and he broke the silence.

  ‘You’re back.’

  ‘I am.’

  ‘The best I can say is that she can’t buy your mother’s house, but if she really wants to come and live here, she can buy another house when one becomes empty. How about that?’

  ‘I’ll think about it.’

  ‘Thank you.’ He paused. ‘Where’ve you been – if I can ask, that is.’

  ‘At the rectory with Caroline.’

  ‘All this time?’

  ‘A lot of it.’

  ‘I see.’

  ‘Do you?’ Harriet turned to face him as she spoke.

  ‘I try.’

  ‘I’m going to give the children a goodnight kiss.’ Harriet tucked Fran in more tightly and smoothed Flick’s hair away from her face and, in the half-light, saw the sleepy smile on her face as she felt her mother’s kiss. She took some books off Finlay’s bed and straightened his duvet for him, and kissed Fergus who gave her a hug and said, ‘Glad you’re back, Mum. It’s Dad who’s been really upset.’ Then she too went to bed.

  When Jimbo emerged from the bathroom she was sitting up making a list. ‘This is my list for Thursday.’

  ‘What’s happening on Thursday?’

  ‘May Day.’

  ‘Of course. I’m thrilled Flick’s going to be Queen. Who’s doing the crowning bit?’

  ‘Muriel.’

  ‘Oh great! It’s a lovely thing for Flick and she’ll do it superbly. Just like her mother, everything she does, she does well.’

  ‘Jimbo! Flattery will get you nowhere with me.’

  ‘It’s true! I shall record the whole event on the old camcorder.’

  ‘Oh, of course! What a good idea. Mother would have gloried in her being Queen. Oh, I do miss her.’

  ‘Of course you do. We all do.’ He sat silent on the edge of the bed for a while and then said, ‘She was a pearl of great price.’

  ‘She adored you.’

  ‘Did she? I didn’t know.’

  ‘I’m sure she’d have married you if you’d have had her.’

  Jimbo laughed. ‘No! I’m glad I married her daughter.’

  ‘So am I.’

  ‘Forgiven?’

  ‘Almost. But I must let it be known now this minute and then I shall never refer to it again, that I do not get on with your mother. Never have done, never will. But I do appreciate that she isn’t getting any younger and needs family about her, but I can’t, I won’t sell her my mother’s house. In any case, it’s far too big for someone your mother’s age.’

  ‘Thank you. I’ll warn her off, right? I can’t brook her interference either. She’s keeping out of the Store, which I know she’d love to reorganise for me, and she’s to be kept out of our family affairs. I won’t have the boys upset by her constant criticism. And she’s not having a key to our house like your mother did, that’s definite. Mother did suggest she took over the mail-order now we’ve no longer got Sadie, but Mrs Jones is doing such a good job, way beyond anything I’d expected, that there’s no way I’m putting Mother in charge. So that’s the agreement.’

  ‘Right, it’s a deal. Oh Jimbo, why didn’t you have brothers and sisters, then they could have taken their turn?’

  ‘Having me nearly killed her, she says. Couldn’t believe childbirth could be so appalling and so uncivilised. So that was that. My father was extremely disappointed.’

  Harriet rolled her eyes. ‘Some men do have a lot to put up with, don’t they?’

  Jimbo turned off his bedside light and sighed. ‘Indeed they do. Look at me for instance. Slaving from dawn to dusk. Money to find for two sons at Prince Henry’s, and soon even more for a daughter at Lady Wortley’s and she’s being May Queen so there’s the dress to pay for, an incredibly pretty small daughter to feed and clothe,’ he paused, ‘and sadly, truth to tell, the biggest fly in the ointment is the wife. I can see there’s going to be no end to my troubles … ever.’ In the darkness at his side of the bed he grinned, thumped his pillow and laid down. Harriet kicked him.

  ‘Ow!! That hurt.’

  ‘I’m glad.’

  There was a silence while Jimbo rubbed his leg. ‘The children were very upset.’

  ‘I’m sorry. I was just so angry and you didn’t seem to be listening.’

  ‘I was and I am. I’m torn, you see.’

  ‘I know. But if I can be assured you’re on my side, then that’s all right.’

  ‘I am.’

  ‘Good. I’ll finish this list and then …’

  ‘Right.’

  Harriet wasn’t the only one with a list. Kate had one, too. Thursday was proving a hectic day. She’d worked all week with the children – cajoling, inspiring, organising. There wasn’t a stone left unturned. Hetty Hardaker had to admit that for organisation Kate couldn’t be bettered. ‘I thought Mr Palmer had everything at his fingertips, but you …’

  ‘Thanks, Hetty. Thanks for all your help, too. Without you we couldn’t have managed.’

  Hetty flushed with pleasure. ‘I’m sorry I was so awkward to begin with. But some of it was justified, wasn’t it?’

  Kate smiled. ‘Yes, it was. But I think now we’ve come to an understanding.’

  ‘You’ve changed since you came. All the witchcraft business, it wasn’t right. It felt so lovely going into church on Friday for prayers. You have to admit Peter is good with children.’

  ‘He is. Very good.’

  ‘Now, back to basics. Margaret wants to know how she will know when to commence playing the piano when she’s out on the Green and can’t see for all the parents. We could do with a coupl
e of mobile phones.’ They walked away together discussing the whys and wherefores. With only two hours to go there was still a lot to do.

  Mercifully the sun had decided to shine. Occasionally a cloud came over but it remained dry which was as well because the piano, and the maypole, and the children’s chairs awaiting the parents and friends were already out on the grass. Someone, somewhere must be smiling on them, Kate thought.

  Mr Fitch had given permission for a couple of his estate-workers who were parents to give a hand, and as Kate and Hetty went back into the hall they were heaving the large wooden boxes which, fixed together, would create a dais for the Queen and her attendants to sit on for the crowning and where Flick would sit to preside over the dancing.

  ‘I’ve got a gorgeous bright red Indian cloth for covering the dais – I’ll bring it out in a moment. The Queen’s chair is here, look, already decorated.’

  ‘Thanks, Ms Pascoe, we’ll just get these sorted first. All right, Bill. Your end first.’ They staggered out with two of the boxes, down the narrow passage to the main door. Kate watched them squeeze out and as they left, in came Greenwood Stubbs. He touched his cap to Kate and said, ‘Mr Fitch has asked me to bring you some plants to decorate the platform for the Queen.’

  ‘Oh, Mr Stubbs, how kind! Why, they’re magnificent.’

  ‘This is just two of them – there’s a vanload outside. Barry Jones has brought them down for me. Come out and tell me where to put them all.’

  ‘A vanload? This I don’t believe.’

  She rushed outside and was stunned by how beautiful they looked.

  ‘How’s that then?’ Barry laughed at her delight. ‘Brilliant, eh?’

  ‘Yes – brilliant!’

  ‘We’ve to put them all out for you and then we’ll collect them at the end. Except you’ve to choose the one you like best and keep it. It’s a present from Mr Fitch. He’s coming, he says, if that’s all right.’

  ‘Of course it is. Right – they need to be banked round the dais when Bill and Ben have put it together.’

  Barry gave a mock salute. ‘As you say, Ms Pascoe. Where’s the Queen? Just need a glimpse of her, can’t stay to watch.’

  ‘She’s inside already dressed. Go and take a look.’

  He found Flick seated on Ms Pascoe’s chair, the skirt of her white dress spread carefully out so as not to crease it. On her head she had a small circlet of fresh flowers, her long plaits had been undone and her hair was hanging down her back shining and bright. Her eyes were alive with pleasure.

  ‘Why, Flick! You look gorgeous, absolutely terrific! Has Pat seen yer yet?’

  Flick was blushing. Barry always made her feel like that. ‘Thank you, Barry. No, she hasn’t.’

  ‘I’ll tell her to come and take a look. Best May Queen in years.’ He bowed like some eighteenth-century courtier, gave a flourishing wave at the door and disappeared.

  Harriet, too, couldn’t believe how pretty Flick looked. It was Fran who had the beauty in their family but today, somehow, it was Flick’s turn. Flick waggled her white satin pumps in the air and said, ‘Aren’t they just beautiful, Mummy? I could be a bridesmaid in these, couldn’t I?’

  ‘You could. Fran – no, don’t pull them off.’

  ‘Let her. You try one on, Fran.’ Fran did so. Flick always let her have her own way with everything.

  The classroom was full of mothers dressing the attendants, changing the Maypole dancers into their outfits, teachers rushing in and out with messages, Pat collecting the last of the home-made refreshments everyone had volunteered, children getting underfoot, teachers disciplining the wayward ones.

  The temperature and the tempers began to rise. With only half an hour to go, Kate was beginning to fray. ‘Yes, that’s right, they all sit on the left. No, not the Maypole dancers. They stay with me – right! OK?’

  The questions were unending, the children excited, the parents almost beyond control and there sat Flick enjoying every minute of her reign.

  In the midst of it all, Muriel arrived. ‘Should I be here or out there?’

  ‘Lady Templeton! There you are. We’ve borrowed chairs from the church hall and you and Sir Ralph are to sit on the front row of them in the middle. There are names on the seats. There’s a quarter of an hour to go.’

  ‘I must be in your way. I’ll leave you to it, you’re obviously busy. And the crown?’

  ‘Ah! Sebastian Prior has the crown. He’ll present it to you on a velvet cushion at the appropriate moment.’

  ‘I’ve prepared a short speech – just a couple of lines.’

  ‘Lovely!’

  ‘Oh Flick, my dear. How pretty you look!’ Muriel’s eyes filled with tears. She bent down and kissed her on either cheek. ‘You make a wonderful May Queen!’

  Muriel smiled at Harriet, and Harriet smiled back.

  Gilbert came in then. ‘Ms Pascoe, we’re here!’

  Kate turned to look at him – a transformed Gilbert. A Gilbert with a blackened face and a bowler hat covered with bright feathers and badges, and a black jacket to which he’d fastened gaily-coloured strips of material. On his feet were boots, and on his ankles bells which jingled at every step he took. ‘As promised!’

  ‘Wonderful! I could give you a kiss!’

  ‘Past experience tells me you’ll have a black face if you do! Just reporting in. We’re sitting on the grown-ups’ chairs awaiting our turn. Is that all right?’

  ‘Of course – here’s the programme of events. Keep that. Flick will call upon you to perform.’

  ‘At your service, Your Majesty!’ Gilbert grinned at Flick and left.

  Seated alongside Muriel and Ralph and in front of the Morris dancers were Mr Fitch and Louise.

  Gilbert had given her one of his special smiles when he’d come to take his place. Mr Fitch, arms folded, leant towards her and whispered out of the corner of his mouth, ‘When are you going to marry that man?’

  Louise blushed. ‘Shortly.’

  ‘Good. Not before time, from what I hear.’

  Louise blushed even redder. The cheek of the man. Really! And she thought no one but her mother knew. You couldn’t do a thing in this village.

  On the other side of Mr Fitch sat Muriel. She’d been waiting for her chance and now it had come. While Ralph went to help Margaret Booth readjust the piano stool and devise a method of keeping her music from blowing away while she played, Muriel took the bull by the horns.

  ‘Mr Fitch.’

  ‘Craddock please, Muriel.’

  ‘Craddock then. You know I’ve beeen very disappointed with you of late.’

  He looked startled. ‘Disappointed, with me? What about?’

  ‘About lacking understanding.’

  ‘If I’ve been tactless about something, please put me right.’

  ‘Sometimes one does more good, you know, by not doing something than by doing it.’

  ‘You’re speaking in riddles, Muriel. I don’t understand.’ He followed her gaze and realised she was looking at Ralph.

  ‘It’s about cricket. The whole village are grateful for what you’ve done with the pavilion and the equipment, believe me they are, but they don’t like …’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘They don’t like you trying to lord it over them.’

  Mr Fitch began to boil. Lord it over them? Not him! Ralph did that – he was an expert at it. He himself did nothing but good. Nothing but good.

  Muriel, staring into the distance, said, ‘It’s tradition, you see, that’s what counts. The village likes to keep its traditions. Like today. Like Stocks Day and the Village Show.’ She turned towards him and smiled at him in such a genuinely kindly way that he felt uncomfortable, and knew she was going to get him to do something he didn’t want to. ‘And the cricket team comes under the same heading, you see,’ she went on gently. ‘They want things to remain as they were. There’s a place for tradition and a place for progress, we need them both. So for your sake, not Ralph’s, you need to let him be presid
ent of the cricket club.’

  The village green was bustling with life. Mothers and the dads who could spare the time from work were squatting on the school chairs; the throne for the Queen was ready; the flowers arranged around the dais giving it glorious colour; the Punch and Judy man was waiting his turn beside his red-and-white striped booth; the horses on the merry-go-round were poised to spring into action. Now, round the corner of the Village Store trotted a procession of the playgroup children coming to take their places, led by Beth and Alex walking hand-in-hand. The Maypole was waiting, the dancers self-conscious in their costumes sitting around its foot. Muriel watched Ralph talking to some of the parents on his way back to his seat, and she thought how much she loved him. Her love for him gave her courage.

  ‘Well, Craddock?’

  ‘You’ve a very persuasive way with you, Muriel Templeton. Very persuasive. But I don’t see what I shall gain if I step down.’

  ‘You won’t gain anything visible or tangible, but you will march to the same drum as them if you do.’

  ‘March to the same drum?’

  ‘Think about it.’ The piano burst into life. ‘Oh, they’re about to begin, and I’ve forgotten to look at my speech, and here comes Ralph. Oh dear, and now I can’t find my speech – where did I put it?’ Mr Fitch bent down and picked up a piece of paper from under Muriel’s chair.

  ‘This it?’

  ‘Oh, thank you.’

  There came a breathless hush as Muriel waited for one of the attendants to remove Flick’s circlet of flowers. Then she held the crown high above Flick’s head and said in ringing tones, ‘On this wonderful gloriously happy day, I have the great honour to crown Felicity Jane Charter-Plackett Queen of the May. Long may she reign! Long live Queen Felicity!!’

  Peter stood up and called for three cheers for the Queen. Hip Hip Hurray! Hip Hip Hurray! Hip Hip Hurray!!

  Queen Felicity stood up, her crown, plain gold-coloured metal with ten points around the top, each with a large pearl attached, its red velvet edge nicely placed along the top of her forehead, and said in a loud clear voice: ‘I thank you all for coming to my crowning today. I hope you will all enjoy yourselves. My subjects will now perform the traditional Maypole dancing, for your delight.’