Peter laid down his knife and fork. ‘I had a visitor this morning. ’
Caroline looked up, alarmed by the tone of his voice. ‘Yes?’
‘Unfortunately it was,’ he paused, ‘well . . . it was Suzy Meadows.’
‘Suzy Meadows, here this morning? I knew there was something very wrong. What the hell did she want?’ Her knife and fork dropped on to her plate. The idea of her here in their house shocked her. She sat back, ashen-faced. ‘I can’t believe this. Did you know she was coming?’
‘Of course not, otherwise I would have said absolutely no. She, well, she wants . . . she wants to see the children.’
‘I hope you said no to that!’
‘I did, but she didn’t appear to hear.’
‘Doesn’t want to hear, you mean.’
‘Both. I more or less turned her out. Flung the door open and stood there waiting for her to go. I’m ashamed of myself for that but—’
‘But nothing. Where did you sit?’
‘In here and had a coffee.’
‘I see. There was not one jot in the adoption papers about access and as far as I’m concerned, that’s it. I will not have the children upset. Nor me for that matter. How dare she? How dare she just arrive uninvited.’
Caroline began pacing the kitchen. ‘Who does she think she is? Just who?’
‘What do you think? She claimed she was their mother and had rights.’
The truth hit home. Caroline slumped down on to her chair and glowered at him. ‘That was a very hurtful thing to say.’
‘I’m so sorry. I didn’t say it - she did. I lost all my ability for reasonableness and seeing the other’s point of view. I could have been really nasty to her. In fact, I think maybe I was. The shock made me speechless. When I answered the door I couldn’t for one blind moment think who on earth she was.’
‘Does she look older, then?’
‘Plumper, I think, and yes, older, of course. When I said that she would be pulling the children’s security right from under their feet and how did she feel about that, she more or less claimed she had a right and what harm would it do. Finally she left me with nothing to say. That was when I opened the door and waited for her to leave. Then of course—’
Caroline groaned, ‘Don’t tell me! Someone saw her.’
‘Ford Barclay, coming with a message.’
Relieved, Caroline remarked, ‘Oh! Well, he wouldn’t know who—’
‘He assumed she was the Rector’s wife. I had to explain.’
‘Well, thank goodness you put that right.’
‘Not before she shook his hand as though she was.’
Caroline stopped all pretence of eating her lunch. ‘My God! Has she gone mad? Is that it? She must have done. Being widowed twice has finally made her crack.’
Peter too had stopped eating. ‘When all is said and done, the children have the right to say what their wishes are, and we have the right to defend their decision. And I’m sure they won’t want to bother with her. Aren’t you? Beth was quite vicious the way she tore up Suzy’s letter. I didn’t see Alex’s reply but he did write and I know from her attitude that it was a refusal.’
‘When you told me what happened when you mentioned her letters to them, I was absolutely sure, but her coming like this . . . On the other hand, what are we afraid of? There is nothing to be afraid of, but God, it hurts!’ She wiped her eyes then picked up her glass. ‘Let’s cheer ourselves up. A toast to our children and our family life being secure and inviolate.’
On Sunday morning Caroline had those very words brought to mind when, quite by chance, she overheard a conversation behind her outside the church. She swung round to face who was gossiping about the events at the Rectory and found she was facing Valda Senior, who had a very attentive audience. Their eyes were glued to Valda, mouths agape.
‘. . . I saw her with my own eyes at the coffee morning. Dressed to kill, she was, wanting to make an impression, and did she? She did. Fortunately,’ Valda paused for effect, ‘the Doctor wasn’t there. If she had been I daresay the balloon would have gone up. Suzy Meadows-that-was said very positively to me that she was having the twins to stay. Would you believe it? So it’s true what we all thought - the twins are his and hers.’
Valda, unaware that Caroline had heard every word, stood back, looking positively triumphant at being the centre of attention and having such news to impart. Two people from down Shepherd’s Hill who came to church only intermittently were standing, their mouths hanging open, but Dottie, who had also been treated to this outrageous tale, was bright red with anger.
‘And do you believe that? That they’ll want to go and stay with her?’ she asked.
‘Naturally. First real confirmation we’ve had that the twins are the Rector’s and hers, isn’t it.’
‘Well, you can keep your nasty, spiteful gossip to yourself. I can tell you that the decision will be made by Alex and Beth and no one else, and I bet my bottom dollar that it’s all wishful thinking on her part.’
‘Oh! Gone all hoity-toity, have we, now we work at the Rectory? Well, I’m telling the truth, believe me I am. I heard it with my own ears. I can’t think that you as the cleaner—’
This was one step too far for Dottie. Caroline never called her a cleaner. It was always ‘Dottie keeps house for me’ if she introduced her to someone. She swung her handbag well back and slammed it against Valda’s head. Thelma Senior tried to intervene on her sister’s behalf but, as always, her reactions were far too slow and the handbag landed fair and square on the side of Valda’s head.
The commotion couldn’t go unnoticed. They all saw Dottie incensed and they all wanted to know why. Zack the verger rushed inside the church to tell Peter, who was in the vestry removing his vestments.
Zack looked him square in the face and said, ‘Better go see what’s up, sir.’
So Peter went out. One look at Caroline’s face and he guessed what the trouble was about.
Dottie left him in no doubt. ‘Reverend! She’s spreading unfounded gossip, she is, about Suzy Meadows and Beth and Alex going to live with her. I’m that upset.’
But Dottie didn’t stay to hear his reaction to this as she’d spotted Beth racing for home. ‘Blast it!’ she said under her breath and set off after her. She caught up with her just as Beth was fitting her key in the lock.
‘Now, Beth, take no notice. That daft old cow has gone senile, believe me. Come in the kitchen and we’ll have a drink. What do you fancy?’
‘Oh, Dottie!’
Dottie opened her arms wide and took hold of poor Beth, whose tears wouldn’t stop coming. Her sobs tore Dottie apart. They stood gently rocking together until Dottie could find her voice. ‘My little love! Now come on. You mustn’t take on so. Look, here’s a tissue. That’s a good girl, blow yer nose. I wish you’d never have heard her, the old cat. I know she can’t hear you, but you stand there and call that Valda all sorts of disgusting names, really loud. Shout them out, the worst ones you can think of right this minute, and you’ll feel a lot better. Go on.’
So Beth did. Some rather shocked Dottie; she was surprised Beth even knew such words.
‘There I’ve run out of ideas,’ Beth said eventually. Then they both began to laugh. ‘Oh, Dottie, you are good for me. But what about Mum? She’ll be so upset.’
‘She will, but your dad’s there.’
‘We’re not going to stay with her. We’ve told her so in a letter. I can’t think where she got the idea from.’
‘Just hoping, that’s what it is, just desperately hoping. Imagination can play cruel tricks when you’re lonely. We’ll have to feel sorry for her.’
Beth was still trembling with distress, so Dottie took matters into her own hands and got out Caroline’s medicinal brandy from the back of the top cupboard. ‘Here! Have a drop of this. The doctor gave me it that time when I cut my hand bad and nearly fainted.’
So Beth did, and was just finishing the last drop when her mum came home.
Caroline smelled the brandy as she wrapped her arms around this beloved daughter of hers. ‘Darling! I am so sorry. So very sorry.’ At the back of her mind Caroline was relieved that she and Peter had told the twins of Suzy’s unexpected appearance. What if they hadn’t been truthful? The twins would never have trusted them again. Caroline recollected their hurt, their astonishment when they’d heard she’d been in the Rectory, remembered Beth’s explosive fury and Alex’s bewilderment.
‘Thank you, Dottie. I didn’t realise Beth had heard.’
‘I’ll be off then, Doctor.’ Dottie patted Beth’s hand and left, wishing - oh, how she wished - she could put it all right. ‘Gave her a brandy. Hope you don’t mind.’
‘Of course not. She needed something. Thank you.’
After she’d gone, Beth dropped into one of the rockers. ‘What hurts is her saying that to the whole village. You know what it’s like at the coffee morning. It’s our private affairs being discussed. Why, why has she done this to us?’
‘I don’t know. Honestly I don’t.’
‘Poor Dad. Where is he?’
‘I expect he’s putting himself back together. He gave Valda a roasting and not half. I’ve never known him so lacking in compassion. It’s not like him at all.’
The front door crashed back and in came Alex and Peter. Alex stood in the kitchen doorway, looking at Beth. They didn’t need to speak because they each knew exactly what the other was thinking.
‘Mum. I’ve decided.’
‘Decided what, Alex?’
‘Suzy Palmer has done her best to ruin things for Beth and me. She couldn’t have been more cruel saying things like that to people in the village. To confirm our parentage to the world was monstrous. Therefore, as far as we are concerned, this is finito. That right, Beth?’ He knew there was no need for her to confirm his decision, but he needed to hear her declaration out loud so there’d be no mistakes in the future.
‘I agree.’
‘Good. Then we’ll put it behind us. We don’t want anything at all to do with her, ever. What she’s done is not what a real mother would do. She obviously doesn’t truly care about us. She just wants her own way, at whatever cost to us and you. Mum, let’s go out for lunch.’
‘We don’t normally on Sundays. I’ve got everything sorted, actually.’
‘Not cooked, though.’
‘No, not cooked yet.’
‘I’ll go and ask Dad.’ Alex went to the study and found his dad seated at his desk, his head in his hands. House rules made Alex hesitate before speaking, but Peter, recognising Alex’s footsteps, said, ‘Yes, Alex, what is it?’
‘Lunch? Shall we go out? We all need cheering up. Beth and I could pay for it with the money Granny sent us, like a special treat. Please, we’d like to. Please, Dad. We just need to get away from the house.’
Peter straightened up. ‘Good thinking. Let’s go.’
Chapter 6
Every member of the embroidery group arrived early on the Monday following the commotion outside the church, not wishing to miss a single moment of their opportunity to gossip about it. Barbara the weekender wasn’t there but they had a new member. Much to their surprise, it was Mercedes Barclay, which was a little inconvenient as they’d been hoping to have an in-depth gossip about her, and Ford too.
‘Have you got room for another one?’ she said. ‘I do embroidery, not nearly as well as you all, I expect, but I do try. I’ve got a sample with me if you’d like to see.’ She rooted in her over-large bag and brought out a piece of work neatly wrapped in a snow-white linen tea-towel.
They crowded round to see, all hoping that they wouldn’t have to pretend to like it. It was about ten square inches in size, and every single bit of it was embroidered in exquisite colours with gold threadwork woven throughout. It was quite like a section of a peacock’s tail, incredibly detailed, almost blinding the eye with the richness of the colours. ‘Intense’ and ‘splendid’ were the words that sprang to mind.
There were gasps all round.
‘Who taught you to do this?’ asked Evie.
‘I taught myself. Took a lot of goes till I got the hang of it, then it came to me one day. I love colours. I never wear black nor grey. Have I made it too vivid? Maybe it’s all too gaudy? Is it?’
Sheila Bissett was instantly jealous of Mercedes’ skill. At one time she’d have been sarcastic about it and deliberately hurt Mercedes, but since the death of her baby grandson Sheila had mellowed. ‘Why, it’s wonderful,’ she said warmly. ‘Absolutely wonderful. Isn’t it, Evie?’
‘It most certainly is. We shall be proud to have you join us. Is that what you would like to do?’
‘Oh, yes please.’
‘Have you ever exhibited?’
Mercedes almost froze at the prospect. ‘No, of course not.’
‘Well, there’s an exhibition coming up in two months’ time in Culworth. We’re exhibiting a panel we’ve done for the church. Could we enter this as a sample from a Turnham Malpas embroidery group member?’
Mercedes blushed bright red. ‘Do you honestly think it’s good enough? Really?’
Evie waxed so enthusiastic that Mercedes was convinced.
Dottie said, ‘You know, we have a flag to do on that ship, perhaps Mercedes could do it? It’s got to be all vivid colours and very intense, no nice duck-egg blue background like I specialise in. This kind of work would be just right, don’t you think?’
Mercedes was taken aback by their very genuine approval. She hadn’t felt so happy since she’d arrived in Turnham Malpas.
Once they’d settled to work, naturally the main topic of conversation was the arrival of Suzy Meadows at the coffee morning.
‘Frankly,’ said Sheila. ‘I don’t know how she had the cheek. She did right to leave as soon as they were born. The hussy!’
‘She said that the twins were going to stay with her for a few days. I find it hard to believe,’ said Evie, who’d been helping behind the counter serving the cakes, and had heard every word.
‘So do I. Those poor children. Well, they’re not children, are they? They’re almost grown up. Was there really any need to broadcast a fact which we all know already but never mention?’ said Bel.
‘Well, you can’t, can you? As it happened, what he did turned out for the best anyway. Though he shouldn’t have, now should he?’
‘No, but heck, he was gorgeous at the time. Come to think of it he still is. He’s got no business wearing a dog-collar.’ Sheila looked rather yearningly out of the window.
Mercedes was thoroughly confused by all the innuendoes and no names. ‘I don’t wish to be nosy, but who are we talking about?’
Bel whispered into her ear the names of the main players and Mercedes’ eyes grew wider at each sentence. ‘No! Has she long blonde hair and big blue eyes and a round face and a lovely fair skin?’
Four pairs of wide eyes stared at her, awaiting further revelation.
‘She was leaving the Rectory when Ford went to call. He thought she was the Rector’s wife, till the Rector explained.’
Stunned silence greeted this remark. Needles were idly poised over the tapestry, mouths hung open.
‘She’d called at the Rectory? Is he sure?’ asked Sheila.
‘Well, that’s how he described the person who was just leaving. ’
Sheila dropped the needle she was threading and bent to pick it up. Her voice floated up from somewhere near the floor.
‘She’d better not turn up again in this village, or I shall have something to say.’
‘Dottie, did you know she’d called at the Rectory?’ Evie asked.
‘No. Nothing was said when I was there this morning.’
Sheila, emerging from under the table, said, ‘Well, Peter certainly had something to say Sunday morning. I’ve never heard him speak like that, ever. No matter how angry he is he’s always a gentle man, but he wasn’t yesterday. It’s a wonder Valda didn’t go into complete meltdown.’
Someone mutt
ered, ‘It’d have been better if she had, the old cow.’
Bel had been working at the Royal Oak that morning and was bursting to know what he’d said. ‘What did he say then?’
‘He came bursting out of church,’ said Dottie, ‘halfway through stripping off his paraphernalia, and caught Valda saying it all over again for those who hadn’t heard. But then I saw Beth running home and I ran after her, so I don’t know.’
‘I heard.’ Sheila put her errant needle down on the table, and, with the length of tapestry wool she’d been trying to thread clinging to the front of her jumper, she repeated almost word for word what Peter had said: ‘I have never in all my years as a priest been so devastatingly angry. Whatever Suzy Meadows-that-was said about my children going to stay with her it is absolutely untrue. The children, my beloved children, are not going to stay with her and have already told her so in a letter. It is not your fault that the tale you have told is untrue but it is your fault, Valda, that you are deliberately causing my wife and my children considerable pain with your tittle-tattle, knowing full well it’s very likely they’ll be within hearing. You should be ashamed of yourself. Nothing short of a public apology will satisfy me.’
The Village Newcomers (Tales from Turnham Malpas) Page 8
