(10/13) Friends at Thrush Green

by Read, Miss

  Needless to say, she knew nothing as yet about poor Dorothy's damaged feelings, and Agnes's concern for her companion.

  Harold Shoosmith, on his walk to The Two Pheasants to book a table for four, met Mrs Jenner who was on her way to visit her daughter at Rectory Cottages. They agreed that it was good to see the sun, that it made one feel ten years younger, that it was about time they had a decent spell of weather, and after these necessary civilities they parted.

  Jane Cartwright was in her little office filling in forms. She rose to greet her mother.

  'Doreen's just been in. She's definitely engaged to that young man and of course I'm glad for her sake, but we'll all miss her.'

  'Why? Is she likely to move from Lulling? Can't he get a job here? I could do with a good window cleaner myself.'

  'He's evidently got a lucrative round in London, hotels and shops, that sort of thing. And he's got a flat too, so of course they'll set up home there.'

  'Gladys will be relieved anyway,' surmised Mrs Jenner. 'Maybe I'll hear more about it tonight at bingo.'

  Gladys Lilly seemed only too pleased to enlarge on the news of Doreen's future as she, Nelly and Mrs Jenner dallied over their coffee during the bingo interval.

  'He's a good fellow,' she enthused, 'and Bobby likes him. It's time that child had a man to deal with him now and again. Our Doreen's too soft with him. Looking back, I can see it was a blessing in disguise when that second little stranger came to nought.'

  Her companions sighed, and nodded sadly in agreement.

  'One's one thing,' went on Gladys, 'but a chap's going to think twice before taking on two.'

  'That's right,' agreed Nelly.

  'So when is the wedding?' enquired Mrs Jenner.

  'Next month. Just down the registry, and then a quiet buffet lunch at my place.'

  'Very suitable,' approved Mrs Jenner.

  Gladys Lilly began to fidget with her gloves, and looked unusually coy.

  'And that's not all,' she went on. 'I'm thinking of getting married myself.'

  'No!' gasped Nelly.

  'I'm glad to hear it,' said Mrs Jenner warmly.

  Gladys became even more agitated. 'Well, I hope you'll still be glad when I tell you who it is. You sec, it's your brother Percy who's asked me.'

  'Well, I'm blowed!' cried Nelly. 'And we all thought—'

  Mrs Jenner cut in before the sentence could finish. She leant across the table, and kissed Gladys's flushed cheek.

  'Of course I'm glad! It's the best day's work Percy ever did, and I couldn't wish for a nicer sister-in-law.'

  Nelly imparted the great news to Albert that night when he returned from The Two Pheasants at closing time.

  It was gratifying to see his stunned expression.

  'Never thought old Perce would have so much sense,' was his comment eventually.

  'Mind you,' said Nelly, 'she's getting the worst of the deal, if you ask me. That place of his will want cleaning from top to bottom, and Percy don't like parting with money, like some others I know of not a hundred miles from here.'

  Albert ignored this side-swipe, still bemused by Percy's good fortune.

  'They say' she's a good cook too,' he was muttering to himself. 'D'you reckon she's throwing herself away on old Perce? I mean, he's no great catch, is he?'

  'Very true,' agreed Nelly, setting the kitchen table for breakfast with her usual rapidity. 'But then what man is?'

  She stopped suddenly, clutching a handful of cutlery to her well-filled cardigan.

  'You see, it's love' she told Albert. 'That's what makes people do these silly things. Percy's a lucky chap, but I only hope poor Gladys don't live to regret the day!'

  Such exciting news soon spread like a bush fire through Thrush Green and Lulling; it was generally agreed that this was a most suitable marriage, and that Percy was an extremely lucky fellow. No one, said the gossips, could be more capable of coping with that neglected house and poor lonely Percy than Gladys Lilly, who had always been much respected in the neighbourhood. Why, she might even get Percy to attend chapel, and that would be a real advance!

  Charles Henstock told Dimity that he was delighted on Percy's behalf, and had always thought that a marriage made later in life was usually successful. Why, look at his own! It would have been nice if he could have officiated at the wedding ceremony, but he supposed that Gladys would wish to have it at the chapel, or perhaps they would simply have the civil ceremony at the registrar's office.

  Dotty Harmer told Albert, when he came to inspect the duck ramp for signs of wear, that Gladys Lilly was one of the most sensible women she knew, and always kept a pot of goose-grease to rub on chests suffering from winter coughs and congestion.

  Winnie Bailey and Jenny greeted the news with relief: at last Percy would stop pestering Jenny and all the other young girls who had excited Percy's amorous inclinations in the past.

  Mrs Jenner and Jane were much in favour of the union, and the thought of her old home being restored to its former cheerful state gave the older woman great happiness. The neglected garden too, she guessed, would soon be put into good order, and her brother's disreputable appearance would change for the better with Gladys to feed him properly, mend his clothes, and send him regularly to the barber's.

  Percy himself went about in a daze of happiness. He had to stand a good deal of banter, but was so pleased and proud that he accepted all the jibes with a smiling countenance, and even stood a round to his cronies at the pub.

  Doreen Lilly's forthcoming marriage did not promote quite so much interest. After all, she was young and pretty, bound to marry sometime, and in any case, the chap was a foreigner, wasn't he? Nevertheless, Charles Henstock felt that Anthony Bull should know what was happening to Doreen and her mother, and rang him one evening.

  'Splendid news!' said Anthony heartily. 'She was such a pathetic little waif when I saw her last. I hope you'll let me know her address when they come to London eventually. I should like to keep in touch. And as for Gladys, I remember her so well, and her first husband's lardy cakes. Give them all my congratulations.'

  The day of Dorothy and Agnes's visit dawned fair and cloudless, and the ladies arrived a little before one o'clock, happy with their successful negotiation of a new route.

  'Really no bother!' cried Dorothy. 'Agnes is a first-class navigator. We did find that Milton Keynes kept getting in the way, I must confess, but once we left that behind it was plain sailing.'

  They had a celebratory glass of sherry while they exchanged news, and then walked across the grass to The Two Pheasants.

  The children were still at play before afternoon school, and Alan Lester, who was on duty, hurried to greet the two teachers.

  'Do come in. We'd all love to see you. You haven't met my wife yet, and she would be so pleased.'

  But the ladies explained that they had to be off soon after lunch.

  'Then next time! I'm sure there will be a next time,' said Alan, looking enquiringly at the Shoosmiths.

  'Indeed there will,' cried Isobel. 'We hope they will be here again very soon.'

  A Land Rover was parked outside The Two Pheasants, and a black and white collie had its head out of the driver's window.

  'Why, it's Percy Hodge's dog,' exclaimed Dorothy, stroking the silky head. 'It's so good to see that it hasn't suffered from that wretched accident.'

  'No harm done,' said Percy, who had just emerged from the pub looking unusually spruce, and in the company of a middle-aged lady.

  Dorothy was surprised and relieved at Percy's affability. He had remained somewhat surly after she had slightly injured Gyp, and their subsequent encounters had been definitely frosty.

  Yet here he was, positively beaming at them!

  'This is my wife-to-be,' he announced with pride, and all was revealed to the bemused ladies. There were congratulations all round, and Dorothy patted Gyp with renewed affection before the couple drove off, and the Shoosmiths ushered their visitors into the bar where they were welcomed warml
y by Mr Jones and his wife.

  They returned to the Shoosmiths' after lunch, and Dorothy was taken down the garden by Harold to collect a cutting of winter jasmine which he had kept for her.

  It gave Isobel and Agnes a chance to exchange confidences.

  'And is Dorothy still attentive to Teddy's needs?' asked Isobel.

  The flood-gates opened, and Agnes described the dreadful consequences of Eileen's telephone call, remembering how sympathetic Isobel had been when the matter of Teddy had cropped up earlier when she was staying there.

  'She has been so brave,' Agnes said. 'After the first awful shock she pulled herself together, and I hope this little break has given her time to come to terms with things.'

  'Poor Dorothy!'

  'I just dread meeting Eileen and Teddy face to face. It might well open up the wound for Dorothy, and I really don't think I could bear to see her suffer so again.'

  'Dorothy will cope,' said Isobel. 'You see, things will be easier than you imagine. I'm sure that the future will be much as you both planned it when you went to Barton-on-Sea.'

  Dorothy returned, farewells were said, and the ladies set off homeward.

  Agnes dozed part of the way, and woke with a start to find that they were within a few miles of home. Her fears came flocking back like menacing birds. How would Dorothy react to this return to familiar things? Would she be able to keep up this brave front of calm? Would she be able to face Teddy and Eileen in their new role of those about to be married?

  These thoughts, as well as the hope that their house would be free from flood, fire and burglars, kept Agnes in a state of severe agitation.

  Dorothy turned the car into their lane. They passed Teddy's house and Eileen's opposite it. All was calm and deserted.

  'Two weddings at Thrush Green,' said Dorothy, 'and another to look forward to here.'

  And Agnes saw, to her intense relief, that her friend was smiling.

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  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Miss Read is actually Mrs. Dora Saint, whose novels draw on her own memories of living and teaching in a small English village. She first began writing after the Second World War, mainly light essays about school and country matters, for several journals. Her first book, Village School, was published in England by Michael Joseph and then in the United States by Houghton Mifflin Company in 1955. She has since delighted millions of readers with both the Fairacre series and her equally well loved series about the Cotswold village of Thrush Green. Miss Read and her husband, a retired schoolmaster, have one daughter and enjoy a quiet life near Newbury, Berkshire.

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