‘Come along now,’ said Lily, ‘come into our shop. You must sit down and rest. It’s been a dreadful shock.’
‘It weren’t your fault, love…’
‘You couldn’t have avoided her; nobody could…’
‘Don’t you worry; we’ll stick up for yer…’
Members of the crowd were quite vociferous in their support of Charity.
‘Take her inside, Lily, and give her a tot of brandy,’ said Arthur, who had just arrived on the scene. ‘I’ll wait here until t’police come, an’ th’ ambulance… Looks to me as though it might be too late though,’ he added in a whisper. ‘Poor old lass…’
The ambulance arrived quite quickly, within ten minutes, and the police at roughly the same time. Miss Thomson’s seemingly lifeless body was lifted gently on to a stretcher and then into the back of the ambulance. One of the men was seen to shake his head despairingly, but they did not say whether she was alive or dead.
The policemen asked questions of the people at the scene, who were unanimous in their insistence that the driver of the car had not stood ‘a snowball in hell’s chance’ of avoiding her. And when they went into the confectioner’s shop to talk to Miss Foster, Lily told them the same thing.
‘Miss Thomson’s sight is not very good, officer. I don’t think she is really fit to be out shopping on her own, but she lives alone and she is fiercely independent. Miss Foster here is dreadfully upset about what has happened, as you can see. She wasn’t to blame…’
‘So everyone says,’ replied the police sergeant, ‘but we have to make our enquiries, you understand…’ He took a statement from Charity and her name and address.
‘Yes, of course,’ he said, ‘I remember you. Both of my kiddies were in your class, and very well they did an’ all. Now don’t you worry, Miss Foster. This is just routine…’ He turned to Lily. ‘You know her then, the old lady who was knocked down?’
‘Yes, of course. Miss Thomson; she lives next door to the school, facing the village green.’
‘And…who are her next of kin, do you know?’
‘Well…there is nobody really, as far as I know. She had a sister, but I believe she died some years ago. There may be nephews or nieces, but there is nobody in this area. There are plenty of people, though, who are concerned about her; the rector and his wife, and the people at the church.’
‘Yes… I see. Well, thank you; that will be all for now. We will contact the hospital with regard to Miss Thomson, but it didn’t look too good for her… We will let you know. Goodbye then, and thank you for your cooperation.’
The crowd had dispersed and Arthur came back in the shop and into the room at the rear where Lily had taken Miss Foster. ‘Now, Miss Foster, what can we do for you? Would you like me to run you home? Your car…’
‘Yes, my car…’ she said. ‘I’ve abandoned it, haven’t I? And to be quite honest, I feel at the moment as though I will never drive again.’ She put her hands to her head. ‘It’s like a nightmare; to think that I was responsible for killing that poor old lady…’
‘Now now, we don’t know that yet, do we?’ said Arthur. ‘She may come round. Any road, you heard what everybody said. You were not to blame; it was just an accident…’
‘Oh, why couldn’t I have stayed at home?’ said Miss Foster. ‘I didn’t really need to go out. I only wanted a few things from the market, so I thought I’d go early and then get back in plenty of time to get ready for Anne’s wedding. Oh dear… Anne’s wedding! And we were all looking forward to it so much. This couldn’t have happened at a worse time. And for you as well; you must be terribly busy.’ She shook her head. ‘You haven’t time to be bothering with me. Oh dear, I feel so confused and woolly-headed, and that’s not like me at all.’
‘Happen it’s the effect of the brandy,’ said Arthur with a wry smile. ‘Now, you just sit there for a few more minutes, Miss Foster, and Lily and me, we’ll decide what’s the best thing to do. Aye, I know we’re busy, but not so busy that we can’t help a good friend. We’ll be shutting t’shop quite soon anyroad…’ Flo and the young girl who came to help on Saturdays had been dealing with the queue in Lily’s absence.
It was decided that Harry, Arthur’s brother-in-law, should run Miss Foster back home to Lowerbeck. She insisted that she would be all right when she had had a sit down and a cup of tea in her own home. As for the shopping she had intended to do, there was nothing that she required too urgently apart from the bread and cakes she always bought at the weekend. Lily wrapped these up for her, and added one of their special meat pies and two sausage rolls, free of charge. When it was time for her to depart for the wedding, which was to take place at twelve o’clock, Anne had very kindly promised to send a car for her. Arthur promised to move her car from the main road to his own parking place at the back of the shop, although Miss Foster was still vowing that she would never set foot inside the vehicle again.
‘Poor old lass!’ said Harry, when he returned from taking her home. ‘Miss Foster, I mean, not the one as was knocked down. She’s still blaming herself. I hope to God the old woman comes round… Aye, Miss Foster’ll be OK, though, I’m sure. She’s a tough little body, isn’t she, and strong-willed an’ all. She’s determined to pull herself round and go to the wedding…
‘And we’d better get our skates on, hadn’t we; shut up the shop and get on wi’ the meal? I know most of it’s been prepared, but we’ve no time to waste. Eh, dear! What a bloomin’ awful time for it to happen…’
They felt even less like preparing a wedding feast when the police sergeant came round a couple of hours later, with the news that Miss Thomson had died. She had, in fact, been found to be dead on arrival at the hospital.
‘It’s just as well our Maisie’s not here,’ said Lily. ‘I know she had one or two spats with Miss Thomson when she was a little girl, but she’ll be upset, I know…’
Maisie had gone round to Anne’s flat earlier that morning so that the two of them could prepare for the wedding. It was decided that they should not be told about the tragic accident until the wedding celebrations were over. It would not be necessary to tell Anne and Roger at all until they returned from their honeymoon. It would not be right to cast a blight on such a happy occasion.
And it was, indeed, a joyful ceremony, followed by a happy and convivial reception at Arthur’s Place. Luke and Patience, of course, had been informed of the accident and its outcome, but agreed that the bridal couple should not be told. It was Patience, rather than Luke, who said she would tell the white lie that they decided was necessary, although it went against the conscience of both of them. Miss Thomson, who had always lived next door to the school, had been invited to the wedding. Patience would explain to Anne, who would be sure to notice the old lady’s absence, that Amelia was in bed with a sudden attack of what was thought to be flu; and – no – it would not be a good idea to visit her as she was probably highly infectious…
‘Please forgive me, Lord…’ prayed Patience. Anne and Roger looked so blissfully happy…
Maisie had gradually warmed to the ‘headmaster’, which was how she had used to think of him, after she had met him a few times. He and Anne seemed very compatible and were very good friends as well as being – she was sure – very much in love.
Anne looked regally beautiful in her high-necked slim-fitting gown, with a pearl-trimmed headdress and long silken tulle veil. Roger was only a couple of inches taller than his bride, a dapper figure in his dark grey suit with a contrasting pale grey waistcoat. His dark hair was now silvering a little at the temples, and since shaving off his military moustache he seemed, to Maisie, to look kindlier and less bombastic. His grey eyes smiled lovingly at Anne as they stood on the church steps after the ceremony, posing for the photographer and laughing as the onlookers, many of them their own schoolchildren, showered them with confetti.
It was a smallish gathering at the restaurant, but the largest one, so far, that Arthur’s Place had accommodated. The guests who had no
t been there before looked round admiringly at the white and gold Regency striped walls, on which were displayed watercolour pictures of Yorkshire scenes, the matching gold curtains, the dazzlingly white tablecloths and the pure white china plates and dishes, bordered in gold. Maisie, of course, was the only bridesmaid, and Roger’s best man was his brother, Gerald, whose wife, Mildred, and two teenage children were also present. Roger’s parents were dead; but Anne’s mother and father had come from Leeds, and Maisie, meeting them for the first time earlier that day, had liked them very much.
Apart from these few family members the guests were all friends; many of them Anne’s friends of many years standing in Middlebeck, all of whom had now taken Roger to their hearts as well. There were the teachers from the school, and Miss Foster, looking a little preoccupied; the Rectory family, including Audrey, whose rapidly increasing figure was well concealed by her floating summer dress of pink georgette. Maisie thought she looked well and appeared quite serene, her predicament having been accepted, by and large, by her father’s congregation, with very little comment. Doris, too, there with her husband, Ivan, was quite obviously pregnant, but she was not trying to disguise it. She looked the picture of health, every inch the typical farmer’s wife with her rosy cheeks, ample waistline and beaming smile. Maisie was pleased to see how happy she looked.
Archie and Rebecca Tremaine were there, but Maisie had been surprised to see that Bruce, also, was with them. She had caught sight of him for the first time as they all stood outside the church. Their glances had met and they had smiled and waved to one another. She had not felt an upsurge of euphoria and excitement, as she once would have experienced on seeing him; more a feeling of gladness and delight at seeing an old friend. She realised that she must, at last, be well and truly over him, in ‘that way’. Her heart and mind were elsewhere, in the heather-clad hills of ‘Bonnie Scotland’. And next Wednesday, in only four days’ time, she would see Andy again. She felt a glow of pleasure at the thought and she gave an unconscious smile.
Bruce, sitting at a nearby table, must have thought the smile was for him, because he was looking in her direction with a bemused half-smile on his face. Well, maybe it was, in part. She waved to him cheerily. ‘See you later…’ she mouthed, and he nodded, raising his thumb in assent.
Everyone agreed after the meal and the speeches were over that Arthur and his team of workers had surpassed themselves with the excellent meal. The piping hot chicken soup, made from fresh ingredients, was obviously not from a Heinz tin; the tender slices of spring lamb served with new potatoes and a variety of vegetables, fresh from the market; and the sherry trifle, in which the vital ingredient had not been stinted; followed by full-flavoured coffee; a banquet, indeed, ‘fit for the King and Queen’.
The small crowd of guests milled around, and Maisie found herself face to face with Bruce. He leaned towards her and kissed her cheek. ‘It’s lovely to see you again, Maisie. I can’t say it’s a surprise, because my mother had told me, of course, that you were to be Anne’s bridesmaid.’
‘But it’s a surprise for me to see you,’ said Maisie. ‘I thought you would be far away in foreign parts. I know you don’t often get home these days, do you?’
Bruce smiled. ‘Home…yes. I still think of Middlebeck as home, but my home – well, the place that I give as my permanent address – is in Altrincham, near Manchester. I have a flat there; it’s handy for the airport, you see. A lot of our flights depart from Ringway as well as Leeds airport.’
‘Yes, I heard that you were a pilot for Red Rose Airlines. Galaxy do quite a lot of business with them now. At the moment, though, I’m not working in the Leeds office. I’m acting as a courier for the season; well, probably for longer than that…’
‘Yes, my mother was telling me about it… I wasn’t actually invited to the wedding, you know. I’m not exactly a gate-crasher, but when Mother told Anne that I would be home this weekend – quite unexpectedly – Anne said of course I must come along. So here I am…’ he laughed. ‘Maisie, it really is great to see you… How about coming out with me tonight, then we can catch up with all our news? We could have a drive out somewhere and a drink and a bite to eat maybe… What do you think?’
‘That would be lovely, Bruce; but we certainly won’t need much to eat, will we? I’m supposed to be on tour again tomorrow, up in Scotland. The tour sets off in the morning from Leeds, but I’ve got permission to start a day later. So I shall catch a train to Edinburgh tomorrow afternoon and join the tour in the evening.’
‘That sounds sensible. You do a conducted tour of Edinburgh, do you?’
‘Yes; three days in Edinburgh, and then up to Callander, in the Trossachs, for the rest of the week. Have you ever been there, Bruce? It’s a lovely part of the country.’
‘Yes, I went touring in Scotland with my parents, when I was much younger. As you say, it’s a beautiful area…’ They smiled at one another, and then Bruce took hold of her arm. ‘Oh look; the bride and groom are ready to go. Come on; let’s see them on their way.’
Anne had changed from her bridal gown into a two-piece summer suit in a pretty shade of turquoise blue, with a tiny hat made of matching feathers. Roger’s car was waiting at the kerbside where Arthur had parked it ready for them, as promised. But well-wishers had been at work and the Morris Minor was now festooned with streamers, and a placard on the back declared ‘Just Married’.
Anne was carrying her bridal bouquet and, keeping to the tradition, she threw it high in the air in the direction of the guests. Eager hands reached out to grasp it, but it was Maisie who caught it amidst laughter and cheers. Probably that had been Anne’s intention as the flowers had been heading straight towards her.
After a final flurry of confetti and waves and smiles, and kisses for their relations and closest friends, Roger started the car and they drove off down the High Street in a southerly direction. Maisie knew that they intended to tour the Cotswold area.
‘Well, what d’you know?’ she laughed, brandishing the bouquet. ‘Actually, I couldn’t avoid it.’
‘It didn’t look as though you wanted to avoid it,’ said Bruce. ‘The question is, who do you know?’
‘Ah, that would be telling!’ she replied, and then seeing his puzzled smile, ‘Well, to be honest, not a lot,’ she added. ‘Not yet at any rate. But who can tell what is round the corner…’
Bruce had arranged to call for her at seven o’clock that evening, and they drove through the country lanes, northwards to a tiny village by the name of Kilbeck, consisting of little more than an ancient church and a cluster of greystone houses, with a stream running by the side of the road. And an old inn, the ‘Adam and Eve’, which was popular with the customers who knew it well, but which never became too crowded as it was well off the beaten track.
The inn appeared almost as old as its name, with whitewashed walls inside and out, an oak-beamed ceiling and a flagged floor. There was a huge inglenook fireplace in which a log fire burned in the colder months, and this was now filled with an arrangement of fir cones and colourful dried leaves and flowers. The chintz-covered chairs and the matching curtains at the diamond-paned windows, and the highly polished round tables helped to relieve the otherwise stark surroundings.
Bruce ordered a beer for himself and a gin and lime for Maisie whilst they studied the menu. Their mood was more subdued than it had been earlier in the day, because when the bride and groom had departed the news had soon got round about the tragic accident of the morning. Miss Foster, of course, had been particularly upset. Archie and Rebecca had taken her home with them to Tremaine House and, according to Bruce, had invited her to stay for the night as it would not be good for her to be on her own at the moment.
‘I never knew Miss Foster as well as you did,’ Bruce said now, ‘because I was never at the village school. I rather wish I had been…at the village school and then at the Grammar school. I’m not sure that I approve of children being sent away to be educated. Speaking for myself, I was
still very naive when I left school. And I rather think that my father is coming round to the same belief, now that he is having to toe the Labour party line. It’s a changing world, Maisie, but not before time.
‘As for Miss Thomson, I never really got to know her well. She had a reputation for being a fearsome old dragon, didn’t she?’
Maisie smiled. ‘She certainly did, but she mellowed, somewhat, as time went on. Audrey got on quite well with her in the end, but I don’t think Miss T ever really forgave me for being rude to her when I was a kiddie. I was a cheeky little kid, wasn’t I? But I had to stick up for Audrey, or so I thought.’
‘Yes, you were a little terror at times,’ laughed Bruce. ‘You gave me a run for my money as well, when we first met.’
‘Yes, I remember; when Prince knocked Audrey down in the lane…’
‘That’s right. Dear old Prince; he was a faithful friend.’ The Tremaines’ collie dog, who had been a constant companion to Bruce during the school holidays and afterwards, had died only a couple of years ago. ‘Rusty’s a good dog, too, but I don’t know him as well as I knew Prince. Rusty’s my mother’s dog really; she has the most to do with him with my father being away so much… Have you decided what you want, Maisie?’ The waitress was hovering with her notebook and pencil.
‘A ham salad, please,’ said Maisie. ‘After the wedding meal I felt I would never be able to eat again. A ham salad would be just about right.’
‘And I will have the same,’ said Bruce. ‘And some of your nice crusty bread, please,’ he said to the waitress.
‘You mentioned Audrey,’ he continued, when the waitress had left. ‘I was very surprised… My mother told me about it, of course. Apparently everyone is rallying round her, which is good, and she seems to be quite in control of herself. You are her closest friend, aren’t you, so I suppose you knew?’
‘Yes, I was the first one she told. She was in a terrible state, as you can imagine. She was frightened to tell her parents, but I managed to convince her that she must…’ Maisie knew that the fact that Audrey had considered abortion must never ever be mentioned to anyone… ‘And Luke and Patience have been wonderful, as you can imagine.’
Down an English Lane Page 42
