Village Fortunes (Turnham Malpas 17)

by Shaw, Rebecca

  Though Katherine Charter-Plackett sounded cheerful, she didn’t feel it. First she was horrified to find that the lovely Chris, whom she’d met a couple of times and who had impressed her with his charm and good looks, had been, as they said now, ‘having it off’ with her granddaughter. First she’d been livid, then she’d accepted it happened nowadays (and had frequently in the past for that matter, except then it was all swept under the carpet), but for her Frances to undergo all that . . . If Johnny hadn’t despatched Chris off to Rio, she’d have personally gone up to the Big House and told Chris what she thought of him. As she filled the kettle, she laughed at the thought of Jimbo punching him. Served him right. If she’d been twenty – well, perhaps thirty – years younger she’d have done the same.

  Grandmama, tray in hand, cautiously climbed the stairs calling out, ‘Sit up, I’m nearly there. Now, darling, how are you this morning? I’ve brought a lovely steak pie for tonight for supper, made by my own fair hand. Here’s your coffee. Have a sip and tell me if I’ve got it right.’

  Fran looked a better colour this morning but she obviously wasn’t up to scratch. There was not a remnant of a smile yet.

  ‘Gran.’

  Well, at least she’d spoken. ‘Yes, dear, I’m all ears.’

  ‘I’ve been such a fool.’

  ‘No, Fran, you haven’t. You fell for a perfectly gorgeous man. I know I did myself, except I was much too old for him.’ She grinned wickedly at Fran. ‘Because he is, or rather was, utterly wonderful and so good-looking, though not so much now perhaps, now your Dad’s sorted him out. Men like Chris, who are so very tempting, are very rare. But he is, or rather was, just a mite too unscrupulous for such a lovely girl as you.’

  ‘But Dad knocked him out cold.’

  ‘Don’t feel sorry for him, it was just what he deserved. Have you had a shower today? I’ve brought you a new shower gel of mine. I think it’s wonderful, and so would you like to try it? If you like it, I might be persuaded to leave it with you.’

  Fran ignored the offer, but she did say, ‘He sent me some lovely flowers.’

  ‘That was kind.’ Frankly Grandmama rather thought it might be Johnny who’d done that, but he’d put Chris’s name on them; it seemed more a Johnny gesture than a Chris one. ‘We mustn’t let that naughty man put us off for the rest of our lives must we, you and I? I’m certainly not going to. I know it’s been hard but remember the good times.’ She wished she hadn’t said that. ‘The times when you laughed and when you thought about how lovely and exciting he was. Those are the times to cling to, not the time when he forgot you were a human being and left you feeling desolate, because that’s what he’s done. This new shower gel, it’s not old lady’s lavender. Have a smell.’

  Fran showed some interest but then Grandmama changed tack and said, ‘There’s lots of reasons why babies abort you know, because they’re not—’

  ‘I don’t want to hear. I’m going to stop thinking about the baby and think it’s perhaps the best thing that could have happened. I didn’t do anything to make me lose it so there must have been something wrong with it, and nature took its course.’

  ‘Well, I must say that sounds like a very intelligent way of thinking about it.’

  But Fran burst into tears and thrashed about on the bed. Grandmama invaded her en suite, found a box of tissues and mopped her face, gradually calming her down.

  ‘You can’t stay in bed for the rest of your life, can you, Fran?’

  ‘I can’t, can I? I might get up today.’

  ‘That sounds very sensible. I approve of that. I’m not staying in bed for the rest of mine either. We both lost someone we thought was terrific, didn’t we? I’ve always loved Peter, you know, with his charisma and his good looks and his compassion for even the most wicked of us, but that clerical collar is a barrier, Chris was much more fun.’

  Fran managed to snigger at the idea of Gran being in love with Peter.

  ‘I’m off down now. Have a shower and use that gel I’ve brought you. I’ll be in the kitchen making lunch. The store, you know, is more dead than alive without you.’

  ‘But what will they all say to me if I go back?’

  ‘Stuff them.’

  ‘Gran!’

  ‘I mean it. You don’t have to explain anything; it’s your life, isn’t it?’

  As she headed for the kitchen Grandmama punched the air with triumph. The best place for Fran was in the store facing up to it. OK, she’d have bad days – anyone would with what she’d had to face – but it was the only solution.

  The scent of Grandmama’s shower gel wafted down into the kitchen even before Fran had arrived in there. ‘My word, Fran, you smell lovely. It’s not ready yet; I’m slower than I used to be. Your mum’s joining us for lunch, she says, that’ll be nice. Your dad’s having his usual pork pie and a mug of tea made for him by Greta, as if he isn’t capable of making his own tea. That Greta worships him, even though she finds fault with him at every turn.’ Grandmama turned to look at Fran and felt heartened by the improvement in her face. She almost looked quite chirpy. ‘You look, and smell, lovely. What do you think of that gel?’

  ‘Magnificent and I’ll keep it, if that’s all right. Thanks. Chris would have loved it.’

  ‘Don’t look back, darling Fran. That does no good at all, believe me. There’ll be some other very worthwhile young man who’ll appreciate it just as much as Chris would have done, if he’d had the guts to stay.’

  ‘Dad told him, you know.’ Fran stared out of the window. ‘About what happened. But he never mentioned it, not even in an email. But it was his baby as much as mine. No regrets at all, apparently.’

  ‘So as well as no guts, he’d no feelings either.’

  ‘Except for those beautiful flowers.’

  Best leave her with the comfort of the flowers coming from Chris. ‘Well, of course, yes. Except for the flowers. So I suppose he had some feelings, but he didn’t know how to express them. Lunch is ready, come and eat. Harriet won’t be long, she says.’

  A week later Fran put in a full day in the store and found the customers more than willing to forget they’d not seen her for a fortnight. They all treated her as though they’d seen her only yesterday.

  Chapter 17

  That same day Grandmama got Fran out of bed, over their lunch in Ralph and Muriel’s old house, Kate and Craddock were discussing what to do. ‘You see, Craddock, your two sons will be astounded to hear from you, and they may well feel very resentful that you’ve never been in touch.’

  ‘How could I when I didn’t know where they were?’

  ‘Exactly, but at the age they were when your wife ran off with them they weren’t old enough to understand. One day they had a dad and the next day they didn’t, nor the next day, and the next day they still didn’t. Birthdays, Christmases; nothing from Dad. Perhaps every birthday and every single Christmas since Stella ran off, they thought surely this time you would get in touch. But, through no fault of your own, you didn’t. That is neglect in big capital letters as far as children are concerned. You must see it from their point of view.’

  ‘I’ve tried, but it is hard.’

  ‘Do you know anything about this Cosmo fellow?’

  ‘Only what I’ve found in the Yorkshire Post in the newspaper section of the reference library. He’s been a councillor for years. He seems to specialise in children, their safety, their education, protecting them from paedophiles, speeding up adoption processes, things like that. He’s a loudmouth, even so. Had a lot to say when the Queen went to visit Yorkshire about the expense of the Royal family and such, which annoyed me when I read it. I bet he has a beard and mumbles into it when he talks.’

  ‘More coffee, darling? Did you ever see him then, when it happened?’

  ‘No, never. She just went. Came home from work to find the door locked, and no wife or children. Yes, please to coffee. Well, they never will hear from me if I don’t write will they, but what the hell I can say I do not know. I
’ve been thinking about it for days. Or would it be better if I go up there and knock on their doors?’

  ‘If it was you in their situation, what would you prefer?’

  Craddock deliberated for a minute and then said, ‘I think I would like to have a letter first as then I can throw it in the bin and ignore it completely if that’s how I feel, or I could reply and tell me to get stuffed, or write to ask when can we meet?’

  ‘Seeing as they are your flesh and blood, maybe they would feel exactly like that. So do it today, write something straight from the heart.’ Kate paused for moment and then asked him, ‘It has occurred to me, why, if you’ve had that letter from that solicitor all these years, have you never written before? Made contact like you are going to do now?’

  This straight from the shoulder question silenced Craddock. He’d no answer. None at all. Why hadn’t he? He didn’t know. ‘Too busy. Too angry.’

  ‘In forty years, too busy? Come on, darling, that’s no answer.’

  ‘Too scared.’

  ‘You?’

  ‘Yes, me. Never bothered me before. I did used to comfort myself when Ralph was alive that no matter how much better he was at getting his own gentlemanly way as opposed to my big fat brown envelopes, my only advantage was I’d fathered two sons, and he would never have any. It gave me a lot of pleasure, comforting myself with that.’

  ‘Really, my darling, that’s rather sad.’

  ‘I know that now, but not then. But now I will do something about these two boys of mine. If I don’t get replies, well so be it. I can only blame myself.’

  An hour later he said, ‘This is the one I’m sending to Michael. Read it, please, and tell me what you think.’

  Dear Michael,

  This is a letter from your father, a father who has been a hectically busy businessman for years and neglected living an honourable life. If I had led that kind of life I would have somehow found a way of finding you. But my heart trembled with fear at the thought. Although I would love to become part of your life, it is entirely up to you to decide. I can only ask. I was a wealthy man but am no longer. I am married again to a lovely woman called Kate who would be delighted to welcome you to our home, along with your possible wife and children.

  It was 23rd October when we last saw each other. You were too small to know that though, and neither did I know. And amazingly that is the date at the top of this letter. Coincidence or a good omen?

  I know it is years and years ago since we saw each other, but it would please an old man and his wife if you could find the time to fit us in to your life, even if it’s for only one day. We live in a wonderful part of the country with trees and hills and lovely views by the score. Give us a try!

  Henry Craddock Fitch.

  ‘Well?’

  Kate studied the letter for a short while and then beamed her approval. ‘It’s nicely matter of fact, with just the right touch of sentiment, and it’s not too mushy. Was it really the 23rd? Because you must have it right, he’ll ask, I’m sure he will, and if you’ve got it wrong this letter will be in the bin, immediately.’

  ‘Engraved on my heart.’

  ‘Do a similar one for Graham. No, do a different one for him as they’ll be sure to compare.’

  It took even longer to write the second letter and Craddock was out of patience by the time he was satisfied with it. ‘There that’s the best I can do. I deserve a whisky.’

  Kate read it through twice and then said, ‘This is excellent, the same but different. I like the bit where you’ve said about his hair always being unruly, just enough to make a contact but not forced. Yes. Copy it out again because of your spelling mistakes, and then I’ll walk down to the post box with them.’

  ‘Thank you, Mrs Fitch.’ Craddock tugged his forelock. ‘Can I go out to play now?’

  ‘When you’ve copied it out, yes, you can.’

  They both burst out laughing.

  It was almost three weeks before he got his answer. It felt more like two hundred weeks, but the calendar said three.

  Dear Craddock Fitch.

  Thank you for your letter. It arrived while I was away at a conference so I’ve only just opened it. What a wonderful surprise. Of course I would like to meet you. Choose two weekends when you would be free to come and I will fit in with one of them. My dad, Cosmo, will probably want to meet you at some point too. Looking forward to hearing from you,

  Sincerely,

  Michael Patterson.

  Craddock almost, but not quite, danced round the sitting room with delight. OK, there wasn’t much information in the letter, but at least he’d been invited for the weekend. A whole weekend.

  Two weeks later when he’d decided Graham must have thrown his letter in the bin he heard from Graham. This was a very different letter.

  Dear Craddock, Dad,

  I have never forgotten you, and missed you tremendously at first, but time heals, you know, and gradually I settled here in Leeds. Cosmo has helped and supported us throughout our lives and been like a real dad to us both. I have a lovely wife called Anita and five children. Two girls and three boys. I am a GP and love my work. Anita is an orthopaedic surgeon and works part time. At half term we are coming your way on holiday as it happens. What luck! We have a minibus so there is room for Michael who will be holidaying with us, can we all come at the same time? We would be able to call to see you on our way down to the house we have rented, so you won’t need to provide accommodation. So glad you found us.

  Looking forward to seeing you,

  Yours, Graham.

  ‘Now that is very encouraging, very encouraging.’ Kate said as soon as she read it. ‘Graham sounds a lovely man. I think perhaps that Michael has either never married or has married and is now divorced or she’s dead. What do you think?’

  Craddock, filled to the brim with delight, said, ‘Well, by the sound of it we shall soon find out. This is excellent. Five grandchildren. I say! Shall we have room for them all?’

  ‘Well, they are obviously not staying the night, so we don’t have to find beds so that’s a relief. I’m looking forward to this. Now, darling, aren’t you glad you plucked up your courage? I know I am.’

  ‘I am. Shall we send them a photo of us?’

  ‘Yes, let’s do that. And ask them exactly when they are coming down this way on their holiday.’

  ‘I wonder how old the children are. A doctor. I say! That’s one in the eye for Ralph.’

  Kate was ashamed of Craddock for an instant, but still she didn’t want to spoil his pleasure. ‘Craddock, don’t reply for a day or so, just take it slowly.’

  ‘I wonder what Michael does for a living.’

  ‘They don’t mention their mother do they, either of them? It’ll all come out in the wash I expect. Perhaps they think it will only annoy you if they do, considering the trick she played on you.’

  ‘I’ve no resentment about her, you know, none at all, I wouldn’t mind finding out she’s done well for herself or had a cracking job, I was so wrapped up in my work, you see, building the business, you know, I left the children to her. I feel rejuvenated after this news, though. A grandfather, and I didn’t know it. Isn’t it wonderful?’

  Kate hugged him. ‘Of course it is. It’s wonderful. I have five ready-made grandchildren, and I’ll be able to tell the children at school all about them and they’ll think they’re mine.’

  Craddock detected a hint of wistfulness in her voice. ‘I’m sorry we haven’t any of our own.’

  ‘As much my fault as anyone’s. I didn’t want any children and I was fulfilled enough with the children at school. But maybe right now, for a little while, I wish I had children of my own. It’ll soon pass.’

  Craddock went to stand beside her and, putting his arm around her shoulders, he said, ‘They’d have been lovely children if you’d had some, with you for a mother.’ He kissed her temple and hugged her again. ‘I love you, Kate, so much, and I shall love seeing you with the grandchildren. They’ll like y
ou more than me as I’m no good with children.’

  ‘Give yourself a chance, darling. I suspect you’ll do better than anyone I know.’

  They had exactly a week in which to prepare themselves. In her own mind Kate decided that for at least one part of their visit she’d take the children to the new play area the council had recently provided down by Turnham Beck, and leave Michael and Graham to talk with Craddock. She so longed for them all to get on well.

  They were a whole hour late arriving but Graham had rung and explained about the traffic holding them up. So the minibus pulled up outside the house and the children flooded out of it and were ringing the doorbell before Craddock could get organised. He was almost trembling with apprehension and fear that he wouldn’t do well, and he desperately wanted Kate beside him, but she’d decided he had to greet them himself.

  The older girl, judging by her height, introduced herself. ‘I’m Sarah, this is my sister Gemma, and here are the three boys. Stand up tall, boys, please, this is your new grandad. Grandad, this is Judd, this is Max, and this little one is Ross. They are six, four and two. I’m twelve and Gemma is ten. And here’s my dad Graham getting out of the driving seat. This is our mum; you can call her Anita. And this is Uncle Michael. And Ross needs the toilet immediately. I’ll take him. Where is it?’

  Totally confused by the size of the family and the confidence of this little girl, Craddock was speechless. He waved an arm vaguely in the direction of the downstairs loo and all the children formed a queue outside the toilet to await their turn. Craddock took this moment to look at his daughter-in-law and his two sons. She was stunning; a model, but a surgeon? She kissed his cheek and hugged him and apologised for her family. ‘I do hope they’re not too overwhelming, Craddock, they are well behaved.’