‘And did she, Sheila?’
‘Oh yes. Even Valda couldn’t refuse once she’d looked into Peter’s face and seen his pain. And quite right, too. He turned his back on us all and went back into the church. Caroline was absolutely stricken, she went home. Alex looked as though he was carved from stone and couldn’t move. The rest of us were shattered. We’ve kept their secret all these years and wham! It was all out in the open, just like that.’ She plucked the length of wool from her jumper and threaded her needle with shaking fingers. ‘I still feel funny even now just thinking about it.’
They broke for tea at this point. As they’d moved their chairs to the tea table, the sound of Zack striding up and down the churchyard with his super-mower reminded them of Ford Barclay.
Dottie said to Mercedes, ‘Didn’t we have a lovely day at the races with you and Ford? It really was so kind of him to take us all, and it was all so posh. I wonder if we thanked him enough, because we did enjoy it.’
‘Ford loves giving people treats, he really does. He’s worked twenty-four/seven for years and now he’s retired he can indulge himself in giving friends a good time.’
‘Well, that’s nice to know because it was smashing. Are you beginning to settle in, then?’
Mercedes paused for a moment and then said, ‘I am now. This afternoon, thanks to you all.’
‘You’ve got a lovely house,’ Sheila remarked.
‘Mmm.’
‘Where did you live before? Not round here because your accent’s different.’
Mercedes hesitated, then mumbled, ‘Birmingham.’
Bel remarked, ‘I’ve a second cousin who lives in Birmingham. ’
Mercedes hurriedly said, ‘It’s strange for us living here, all trees and country.’
‘Well, yes, but we all love it. You know everyone, you see.’
‘Will you be coming to our wedding anniversary party? You’ll all be invited.’
‘We’d heard. Well, yes, I expect we all will. Got all your plans made?’ Bel was puzzled that she couldn’t seem to remember where they’d lived before. It was odd.
Mercedes positively blossomed. A lovely smile came over her face as she said, ‘Oh, yes. That Jimbo is brilliant, you know. It’ll spoil it if I tell you everything that’s going to happen, but he’s got musicians—’
‘You mean a pop band?’
‘No, no. One in keeping with the Elizabethan banquet. And there will be dancers and a play and lots of lovely food and drink. I tell you, Ford has really gone to town on it, but we couldn’t have done it without Jimbo. He’s lovely isn’t he?’
Bel agreed. ‘Mind you, he has a temper. I remember once—’
‘I say,’ interrupted Sheila, who didn’t want to listen to yet another of Bel’s stories about working for Jimbo, ‘What’s happening with the youth club? There’s rumours going round that Ford has decided to spend some money on it instead of the lunch club for the Senior Citizens. Not that I go, so it doesn’t bother me.’
Mercedes launched enthusiastically into the latest news. ‘Ah, well, they’ve planned some splendid trips out. I can’t remember everything, but first there’s a midnight walk on Brocken High Barrow next week.’
Dottie was amazed. ‘Brocken High Barrow, at midnight? What are they thinking of? They’ll be up to all sorts of things they shouldn’t, up there in the dark.’
‘Well, anyway, after that they’re off on a weekend camping before the weather gets too bad with a hike along the South Coast Path.’
Someone muttered, ‘Rather them than me.’
‘They’re all very excited about that. Oh, and then there’s a trip to a bowling alley with another youth club before Christmas. And there’s talk of a narrowboat holiday in the summer, a boat for twelve. Ford’s so excited about that he’s even thinking of going with them. Then, before Christmas, they’re planning a ghost-hunting expedition in some castle or other, take your own candle.’
Bel was astounded. ‘Have they gone completely mad? When I went to a youth club we got all excited about a table-tennis match against the Scouts in the church hall with the vicar and his wife standing guard just in case, though in case of what we never knew. Fat chance with a load of boring scouts with bare knees and woggles. None of this gallivanting about.’
Dottie asked if Peter knew what was going on. ‘After all, it is a church thingy.’
Evie suggested that maybe Kate and Venetia had cleared it with Peter already.
‘Well,’ said Sheila. ‘I am amazed. It’s not quite the thing, is it? Too much temptation. You know what that lot in Penny Fawcett are like. They’re on a par with that pub of theirs in the High Street, the Jug and Bottle - all drunk and no class whatsoever. Imagine twelve of ’em on a boat. Can’t expect ’em to behave proper when it’s a mixed group. The mind boggles. Glad I’m not in charge; I’d never sleep a wink.’
Evie was far more trusting than the others. ‘Mrs Fitch wouldn’t allow anything untoward, I’m sure. She is a teacher after all.’
‘There was a piece in the paper the other day about these teenagers who’d gone swimming naked in a lake and—’
Sheila nodded briskly. ‘I read that. It was disgusting. But look at that time when we had the pyjama party and those two were found upstairs in the bedroom at Glebe House, knowing nothing about the house being on fire at all. A lot of them were from Penny Fawcett.
Mercedes was laughing. ‘Did you say at Glebe House? Really? A pyjama party? Which bedroom were they in?’ Her eyes were alight with fun.
‘It wasn’t funny at the time, believe me, Mercedes. They could have died ’cept they got the fire out in quick time.’
Bel, sensing that there would be a big argument if they weren’t careful, said softly, ‘I’m sure Kate Fitch won’t allow things to get out of hand. After all, some of them will have been at the primary school when they were younger. They know she has standards.’
‘Yes,’ said Sheila, tapping a well-manicured nail on the table, ‘but what about Venetia? You can’t say she’s got standards. We all know what she was.’
Evie glanced at her watch and said, ‘Shall we get on?’
At that precise moment Zack walked in for his usual Monday afternoon treat of a cup of tea. ‘Hello, Merc! Surprised to find you here embroidering. Heard that wonderful mower of mine? I shall always be in debt to your hubby for that mower. Transformed my life, it has. Has Ford got any good tips this week? Last week’s turned up trumps. Fifty-four pounds and fifty pence I won. Gone towards me and the wife going to America to see our daughter.’
Mercedes rooted about in her bag and took out a square of paper. ‘Here you are. Polar Knight. Three-thirty at Doncaster on Saturday.’
No one in the embroidery group said a word. They finished their cups of tea as though not a thing had been said about betting, nor about Doncaster, nor the three-thirty, nor a horse called Polar Knight. They popped their cups and saucers back on the tray, and left Zack looking at his square of paper and sipping his own, very welcome cup of tea.
Polar Knight won at Doncaster, and every member of the embroidery group had put a bet on him. They couldn’t wait for Zack to call in for his cup of tea the following Monday until they remembered he’d said it would be the last time he’d be cutting the grass until the spring. Drat!
Peter sensed the challenge in Beth’s voice when she announced she was going with the youth club on the midnight walk on Friday to Brocken High Barrow. He winked at Caroline and, taking the hint, she didn’t protest.
‘Alex going, Beth?’ Peter asked.
‘No, and don’t suggest it to him. He’ll only interfere and tell me what to do, or, more likely, what not to do, and I’m not having it. Pass the sauce, please.’
Caroline passed Beth the tartare sauce. ‘Here you are. You sound very definite.’
‘No, but I am sixteen going on seventeen and so I’m going.’
‘I see.’
‘I mean it about Alex. Anyway, it’s not his kind of thing. Too daring for
him!’
‘It’ll be cold this time of year,’ Caroline remarked.
‘I’m tough, didn’t you know? I don’t care if it throws down with rain. I’m going. I’m fed up with being good little Beth, daughter of the Rector and the Doctor. I’m stepping out of line for once.’
‘That’s fine, darling. Quite right,’ Peter said mildly. He poured himself a glass of wine. ‘More wine, Caroline?’
‘Yes, please. I’ll be glad to see the end of this bottle; it’s not to my taste.’
‘I’ll try it.’ Beth passed her glass to Peter. ‘Might as well help to finish it if Mum’s not keen.’
‘Are you sure about wine?’
‘Some of them at the youth club buy wine and cider and stuff at the off-licence in Culworth, but I think it’s better to drink at home. Still . . . that is an idea. Something else I could try that I’ve never tried before.’
‘What’s brought this on?’
‘It’s boring, boring, boring being a Rector’s daughter, always expected to be goody-goody, and I’m absolutely sick of it.’
Peter said he could see her point. ‘I understand. It’s people automatically assuming that you’re well behaved and sensible, always doing your prep and helping with the junior church and going to visit Muriel.’
Beth, her fork full of food, hesitated and then came out with, ‘That’s another thing. I’m stopping doing that. It’s ridiculous. She doesn’t even know who I am. Well, sometimes she does, but usually not. It’s a complete waste of time.’
‘No, Beth, it’s—’
‘It is, Mum. An utter, utter waste of time. I’ve been going round there once a week for years—’
‘One actually.’
‘Well, nearly two, and I’m fed up with it. Then I take her to the Store for something to do. She doesn’t know what she wants and Ralph doesn’t give her a list, so we stand about for hours and I feel a fool. So I shall tell Ralph I’m not going any more. He might even be quite glad. He hates people seeing how bad she is. And it won’t get better.’
Caroline began to challenge her about this but Peter forestalled her.
‘If that’s how you feel, then by all means go round and tell Ralph you don’t want to do it any more, but please, do it gently. I can see your point. You’ve been more than diligent going round there every week but there is a limit and I don’t suppose Muriel will notice. She is far worse than even just a few weeks ago.’
‘Thanks, Dad. As soon as I’ve finished I’m going round there. And I might not even do my prep. See what effect that has at school. They can tut-tut as much as they like. Well I shall give them a surprise, and it’s about time, too.’
The rest of their meal was eaten in silence, and Beth went round to Ralph and Muriel’s the moment she’d finished her last mouthful of pudding.
She used to be able to open the door and call out, ‘It’s me, Beth, from the Rectory.’ But now the door had to be kept firmly locked in case Muriel mistakenly decided to go out and subsequently went missing, which she had done several times.
Ralph opened the door and greeted her with pleasure. ‘Why, Beth! How lovely. Do come in, dear. Muriel’s in the sitting room, or she was.’
Beth’s first thought was how weary Ralph appeared to be. Another sleepless night, she guessed.
‘Hello, Muriel, it’s—’
‘Beth! How lovely to see you! How kind. Come and tell me all about school and what you’ve been up to.’ She patted the seat next to her on the sofa and smiled cheerfully.
Beth felt dreadful. After her rebellion at home, now she was faced with this surprising recognition. What should she do? She’d never intended seeing Muriel tonight. What she wanted to do was to tell Ralph she wasn’t coming any more and then quietly disappear, but no such luck.
‘Did you win your netball match?’
‘Yes, we did, thank you. They were a good team and it was a struggle, but in the end we won. Thank you. How have you been, Muriel?’
‘Very well, thank you, dear.’ She called out rather imperiously, ‘Ralph, could we have a cup of tea?’
‘Yes, Muriel. In a minute.’
Short of something to talk about, Beth told her about the midnight hike with the youth club. ‘So we shall be leaving at ten-thirty in a minibus from outside the church.’
‘Ralph! What have you done with my cup of tea? Where is it?’
‘In a moment, dear.’
‘Beth! I want a cup of tea. Where is it? Ralph never gets things done in time. Where is he? Has he gone out?’
‘No, he’s in the kitchen.’
‘I want Ralph. Ralph?’
‘I’ll go and make the tea.’
Muriel began to get up. ‘No, I’ll make it.’
‘No, Muriel, you sit there. You’ve had a busy day; you must be tired. I’ll do it and send Ralph in to you.’
‘I have been very busy. There’s so much to do in the house. Must keep it tidy. The vacuuming is so exhausting.’
‘Of course.’
Beth went into the kitchen and offered to make the tea. ‘You sit with Muriel, Ralph. I’ll make the tea.’
‘Thank you, Beth.’
Ralph never made comments about Muriel’s incapacity. He always treated her as though everything in her head was perfectly normal when it manifestly wasn’t.
Beth carried the tray in. Muriel inspected it and found fault in a harsh voice that was completely different from her normal tone. ‘You’ve not put a cloth on, Muriel. I never have a tray without a cloth on it.’
‘Very well, I’ll go and get it.’ But she didn’t, and Muriel instantly forgot then decided to pester for her tea.
‘It’s not brewed yet; it won’t be a moment.’
Beth heard Ralph smother a sigh. She looked at him and said very softly, ‘You need more help, Ralph. You can’t manage single-handed.’
‘She’s not going in a home, Beth. I couldn’t cope with that.’
‘Then get some help with meals and the cleaning and bathing her. Then you needn’t put her in a home. But you can’t keep ignoring facts . . .’
Muriel snatched the cup of tea from Beth. ‘About time, too.’ Between them they almost had a spill.
‘It’s too hot yet, Muriel.’
But she was too late. Muriel sipped it and then snapped, ‘It’s too hot. Why is it too hot?’
‘You go, Beth. I’ll deal with her. Please, just go.’
From his voice Beth knew he was acutely embarrassed by Muriel’s confusion. So was she, and completely devastated, too.
She rushed home and burst into tears.
Peter heard her from the study and went to see what the matter was. He sat down on a kitchen chair and Beth sat on his knee and put her arms round his neck.
‘It’s Muriel! She’s worse than ever tonight. Poor Ralph. She doesn’t know how bad she is. It’s Ralph who’s suffering. I feel awful.’
‘Have you told him you don’t want to go any more?’
‘I didn’t get a chance. He showed me straight into the sitting room and there she was. How does he live with it?’
‘I honestly do not know, but he loves her, you see, so he does his best by her. Did she recognise you at all?’
‘Yes, and then she didn’t and called me Muriel of all things, and was such a pest, so demanding, so unlike her. It’s terrible. I can’t go again. Ralph almost died of embarrassment. Dad, it could happen to anyone, couldn’t it?’ She began crying again.
‘Yes. Anyone.’
‘It won’t happen to Mum, will it? I couldn’t bear it if it did. I love her so.’
‘I know you do.’
‘I’m never, never going to stay with Suzy. She gave me away and I can’t forgive her for that, but then I wouldn’t have Mum for my mum, would I? And I wouldn’t have it any other way. I never think she’s not my mum, you know. Never. She is, you see.’
‘Yes. I’m glad she is.’
The Village Newcomers (Tales from Turnham Malpas) Page 9
