‘It was a joke,’ said Nigel.
‘I must be going,’ said Bex. She stood up. She knew it was worry and the subsequent relief and exhaustion that was making this couple bicker but she didn’t want to be a witness or a referee.
‘I’m sorry,’ said Olivia. ‘But I am so glad Alfie is safe. And I’m kind of glad Zac had something to do with it – it’s something he can be proud of. He’s made a lot of wrong decisions recently and that was most definitely a right one.’
‘It was,’ said Bex. ‘Truly, a right one. And I must get home. I had to say thank you and I want you to tell Zac that I am unbelievably grateful, I always will be. What he did, to muck up his own plans and rescue Alfie, was pretty noble. I know it doesn’t make up for the rest but I think it shows he’s got a good heart. The other stuff...? We all make mistakes.’
‘I suppose,’ said Nigel.
‘Thank you,’ said Olivia. ‘I think everyone is entitled to make mistakes – as long as they only make them once.’ She looked at Nigel and smiled and he gave her a tentative smile back.
Bex felt that Olivia might not have quite got around to forgiving her husband but was on the path to it. Maybe the awful events of the previous night had happened for a reason.
53
A fortnight later, Lewis and Alfie were haring around the vicarage garden while Megan manned the Aunt Sally stall and Bex, aided by Heather, dispensed tea, home-made scones and cakes in a large tent, borrowed from the local scout group, pitched on the lawn and decked out with picnic tables and chairs and bunting. It was, thought Bex in a short lull between hungry and thirsty customers, the epitome of what a church fête in a little place like this ought to be.
‘Need another two cream teas,’ said Amy, pushing her way between the chairs and the customers.
‘Coming right up.’ Bex began to pile a cake stand with scones, a pot of jam and a tub of clotted cream, plus a couple of slices of cake and a selection of delicate brown bread sandwiches. She dumped it on a tray and then added a pot of tea and a jug of milk which Heather handed to her.
‘Ta,’ said Amy. She bustled off.
‘I’m surprised Amy volunteered,’ said Bex quietly to Heather after her cleaner was safely out of earshot. ‘I wouldn’t have had her down as a do-gooder.’
‘What, like the rest of us mugs who find we can’t say no when we’re asked to chip in?’
‘Pretty much.’
‘I think she’s trying to make up for what that awful boyfriend of hers did.’
‘But he didn’t actually do the burglaries, did he? I thought he was the fence.’
‘Apparently he got hold of Amy’s keys – the ones we’ve all given her so she can get in to clean. He got them copied and handed them over to Dan. And, according to Leanne, Billy was always encouraging Amy to tell him about the posh houses where she worked.’
‘I wouldn’t imagine he’d have to encourage her that much,’ murmured Bex.
‘Well... no...’
‘Still, knowing about the place before you actually broke in must have been quite handy. No wonder Amy has got a bit of a guilty conscience.’
Bex was rearranging some of the cakes, topping up the piles of scones from boxes hidden under the table, putting slices of cake on almost-empty plates together to free up some space, flicking crumbs off the tablecloth. When she’d finished she looked up and saw Jacqui Connolly bearing down on her.
‘Oh, hell,’ she whispered to herself.
‘Something the matter?’ asked Heather, quietly.
‘Tell you later.’ Louder she said, ‘Jacqui, what can I do for you?’
‘I came to apologise.’
‘Really?’
‘For having a go at you about your son.’
‘No, it’s fine,’ said Bex. ‘Water under the bridge.’
‘But it wasn’t fine. I said some awful things. It was just... it was Lisa’s birthday that day and I was upset.’
‘It must be so difficult for you.’
‘But you know what it’s like. You’ve lost someone.’
Bex nodded. ‘Yes, I have.’
‘Anyway, I’ve come to a decision.’ She looked at Heather.
‘What’s that, Jacqui, my dear?’
‘I’m clearing out Lisa’s room. I need to move on. She’s gone, she isn’t coming back, I need to accept it, go back to work, sort myself out...’
Heather reached across the table and put her hand on Jacqui’s arm. ‘As long as you are sure that’s the right thing.’
Jacqui nodded. ‘Frankly, I don’t know how David has put up with me.’ She glanced from Heather to Bex. ‘It hasn’t only been not being able to let go... I may have been drinking a bit much.’ She smiled. ‘There, I’ve said it. Don’t they say admitting things like that is the first step to recovery?’
‘You drank?’ said Heather.
Bex awarded her an instant Oscar for best actress. She really had sounded as though Jacqui’s revelation had come as a total surprise and given that anyone who employed Amy had to be fully aware of it, that was a pretty laudable reaction.
Jacqui nodded, sadly. ‘Yes, and it doesn’t help.’
‘Everyone copes in their own way,’ said Heather. ‘There’s no right or wrong.’
‘Thank you,’ said Jacqui. ‘Thanks for not being judgemental.’
‘Let he who is without sin cast the first stone,’ quoted Heather.
‘Maybe.’
Amy bustled back up. ‘Two cream teas, two lemon drizzle and a pot of tea for four,’ she commanded. ‘Hello, Jacqui, you all right?’
‘Fine thanks, Amy. And I must be on my way. You’re busy and I mustn’t hold you up. I’ll see you at the book club maybe, or the WI.’ She turned to Bex. ‘You ought to join.’
‘I’ll think about it,’ she promised.
But she already thought she might. Getting involved with the town’s activities had given her more to think about than the loss of Richard. She’d made some good friends already; OK, it had taken a couple of months, but these things couldn’t be pushed and now she felt as if people in the town cared about her and her little family – Heather and Olivia, and Belinda and Miles... Jo from the school, and now the other mums on the PTA.
An hour later she and Heather cleared up the last of the plates and cups at the tea tent, piled them onto trays and took them over to Heather’s kitchen to wash them up.
‘Actually, let’s leave it for a few minutes. I’m knackered and I want a sit down and a cuppa first.’
Bex nodded. ‘Good idea. I’ll just pop back out to tell the kids where I am and make sure Alfie hasn’t made another bid for freedom.’
‘He wouldn’t, would he?’
‘I don’t think so. We had quite a long chat about what might have happened.’
‘Good.’
Bex went back into the garden to tell her kids where to find her and was back in Heather’s kitchen before the kettle had boiled. They had been joined by Olivia.
‘Great fête,’ said Olivia.
‘Thank you,’ said Heather. ‘And thank you both for everything you two did to help.’
‘A pleasure,’ said Bex.
Heather made the tea and brought it over to the table.
‘Nigel and I have had an offer on the house,’ announced Olivia.
‘That’s great,’ said Bex.
‘It’s a bit curate’s egg. I mean obviously we need to sell but I’ll be so sorry to have to move out. And I expect I’ll get used to living on an estate in a modern box. At least we’ll have a roof.’ Olivia tried to look positive. ‘The main thing is that we’ll be staying in the town. I think if we’d had to move away I wouldn’t have coped.’
Bex nodded. ‘I know what you mean about this place. I can’t imagine living anywhere else now. I love it here; I love the people, the sense of community... I even love the gossip. All those secrets, which aren’t, because no one seems to be able to keep anything quiet.’
‘Well, that’s Amy for you!’ said Olivia.
‘Mind you, she doesn’t know everything. She hasn’t found out about Nigel yet and his little – ahem – problem.’
‘I doubt if she will – I mean,’ said Bex, ‘who would tell her?’
‘She knows we’re moving and making economies but she doesn’t know why.’
‘She won’t hear it from me,’ promised Bex.
‘Nor me.’
‘Then I think it’ll be the only secret in Little Woodford Amy won’t be privy to,’ said Olivia.
Brian came into the kitchen with a carrier bag containing the takings from the various stalls. He dumped it on the table. ‘I think we might have broken records this year,’ he said, cheerfully. ‘I’m going to join you for a cuppa and then go to my study to count it. And talking of Amy,’ he said, ‘which you were, I have to tell you that you are wrong. There’s another secret that she doesn’t know about.’
‘Really?’ chorused the three women.
‘Are you at liberty to share it?’ asked Heather.
‘I certainly am. In fact, tomorrow I’ve got to make it public from the pulpit.’
‘And?’ asked Bex.
‘I’ve got to read the banns for Bert and Joan Makepiece. Or rather Bert Makepiece and Joan Downing.’
‘But they’ve been married fifty years. Even I know that,’ said Bex.
‘They’ve been together for fifty years. Anyway, he’s decided to make an honest woman of her.’
‘Blimey,’ said Olivia, ‘who’d have thought it? How on earth did they keep that under their hats for so long?’
‘Probably because Amy doesn’t clean for them,’ said Bex. ‘But how come? I mean, I’d have thought people of that generation would have tied the knot rather than risk the scandal.’
‘Well,’ said Brian, ‘it seems Bert met Joan when he was doing his national service and brought her home to meet his mum. According to Joan, she loved the place so much she got a job here and Bert’s mum took her in as a lodger. Then Bert’s mum died very suddenly and well... she moved out of the spare room into Bert’s. Everyone round about thought they’d been married up in Catterick where Bert had been based and Joan and Bert didn’t see any reason to confirm or deny the story.’
‘But why now? I mean,’ said Bex, ‘after all this time, why bother?’
‘Because they’ve just discovered that there is no such thing as a common-law marriage.’
‘Isn’t there?’ said Bex.
‘No. So if anything happens to either of them, the other is left in a really dodgy position. They decided that even though it means revealing the secret that they’ve been living in sin for half a century they ought to sort out their affairs.’ Brian chuckled. ‘Mind you, I think Joan is rather looking forward to setting tongues wagging. Underneath that butter-wouldn’t-melt exterior I think she can be quite mischievous.’
‘Bless her,’ murmured Bex.
‘Oh,’ said Olivia, ‘and talking of secrets... what’s this I hear about you and Miles?’
‘What?’ said Heather and Brian, together.
Bex could feel her face flaring. ‘It’s nothing, honest,’ she mumbled.
‘That’s not what Belinda told me. She said Miles has been finding any excuse to,’ Olivia raised her hands and made imaginary quotation marks in the air as she said, ‘“pop round” to your place to help you out.’
‘Well, you know... the gate needed to be made Alfie-proof.’
‘And?’ prompted Olivia.
‘There was the tap washer that needed replacing.’
‘And?’
‘I needed to borrow a stepladder to replace a light bulb.’
‘And?’
‘Oh, OK, I like Miles.’
Olivia looked smug.
‘I have been trying to be a bit discreet, you know, keep it quiet,’ said Bex.
‘Keep it a secret, in a small town like this?’ crowed Olivia. ‘You have to be joking!’
We hope you enjoyed this book.
Catherine Jones’ next book is coming in winter 2019
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Acknowledgements
About Catherine Jones
The Soldiers’ Wives Series
An Invitation from the Publisher
Acknowledgements
To be honest, 2017 didn’t start off well and, as a result, writing this book ended up having to take second place to real life. Because of that I want to thank the Head of Zeus team – in particular the wonderful Rosie de Courcy – for their endless patience and kindness, which allowed me to get back on track in my own time. And the same goes for my indefatigable agent, Laura Longrigg, who was equally understanding. I also need to thank Kirsty Falconer for reading the parts of the book and making sure I didn’t get too fanciful. And a big thank you to my friends and family for the support, encouragement, cups of tea, kind words, glasses of wine, gin... It made all the difference.
About Catherine Jones
CATHERINE JONES lives in Thame, where she is an independent Councillor. She is the author of eighteen novels, including the Soldiers’ Wives series, which she wrote under the pseudonym Fiona Field.
The Soldiers’ Wives Series
Published as Fiona Field
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Originally published as 'Little Woodford' by Head of Zeus in 2018. This edition published by Aria, an imprint of Head of Zeus, in 2020
Copyright © Catherine Jones, 2018
The moral right of Catherine Jones to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act of 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. All characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
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A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
ISBN (E) 9781784979782
ISBN (HB) 9781784979799
ISBN (PB) 9781784979805
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Secrets and Scandals in Little Woodford Page 40
