Village Gossip

by Shaw, Rebecca

  ‘That’s as may be. But I’ll come up with something.’

  Greenwood suggested he didn’t have far to look. ‘He’s got that big directors’ do day after he comes back. They’re staying the weekend, country weekend and all that jazz. They’ve got seats booked for the play.’

  Michelle looked horrified. ‘You don’t mean that, Grandad? Not Mr Fitch coming to see us?’

  Grandad nodded. ‘He’s bringing the lot of ’em. Boasting, I expect, that we can attract such a big name as Hugo-the-big-I-am-Maude to the village. Fitch playing Lord of the Manor. I’ve flowers to provide for the bedrooms and that. Gardens to be looking spectacular and a tour of the glasshouses too. Me touching me cap to ’em all.’ He imitated touching his forelock. ‘He thinks!’

  Barry clenched his fists and banged the table. ‘That’s it then. We’ll sabotage that.’

  Pat wagged a finger at him. ‘Just a minute, I’m senior waitress that weekend. Friday dinner. Saturday lunch. Saturday dinner and Sunday lunch. Breakfasts as well. Blinking good money, it being the whole weekend. I don’t fancy losing that. Not now.’

  ‘Don’t worry, love, I’ll see you’re all right.’

  Michelle, excited by the thought of a bit of espionage, asked what Barry proposed to do. He tapped the side of his nose, ‘Got to put my thinking cap on. Oh yes. If anyone comes up with any inspiration let me know. And not a word to anyone. This is our secret.’ He pushed back his chair. ‘Look at the time! Michelle, hurry up, you’ll be late for rehearsal. And you, Dean.’

  After they’d gone and Pat was clearing the table she asked her dad if he’d any idea who could have split on them.

  ‘None at all. It’s a mystery to me. Everyone in this village sees him and his belongings as fair game, they wouldn’t mind us having a few bits of stone and some old wreck of a table and chairs, nor them old pots, some of ’em is cracked even. It’s not someone getting back at me and Rhett, it’s deeper than that.’

  ‘Wish I blinking well knew who it was. I’d scratch their eyes out.’

  ‘Don’t fret, it’ll all come out in the wash. Mark my words. Can I leave yer with all this?’ He gestured to the washing up. ‘I’ve had double the work without Rhett, it’s nearly killed me today. The others are good lads and work hard but Rhett’s taken a lot on his shoulders and we’ve really missed him.’

  ‘Good lad, isn’t he?’

  ‘He is that. I’m going to try to get him a job in the Parks department. I still carry a bit of weight there.’

  ‘Do you think there might be a chance that old Fitch will tell Jeremy he’s a fool and cancel it all, and we’ll be all right?’

  ‘I doubt it. They stick together these folk. To save face he has to back him up, hasn’t he?’

  ‘I suppose so. It was me just hoping.’

  ‘I know, love. I know. All our bright dreams gone. Thought Michelle would follow in my footsteps. We seemed so well set up, didn’t we, all of us? Ah well. I can’t say how sor …’

  Pat squeezed his arm. ‘Like Barry says, that’s enough apologising. Go and watch yer telly. Go on, off yer go.’

  When Pat went into the Store first thing the next day to check Jimbo’s catering diary with her own she found herself catapulted into a furious argument.

  Jimbo, increasingly agitated because the ambience he strove so hard to maintain was being destroyed, called out, ‘Ladies! Ladies! Please.’

  The main protagonists were the two Senior sisters, Mrs Jones, who was already wearing her smart mail order office tabard with Harriet’s Country Cousin Farm Produce emblazoned across the front, Linda, playing her part from behind the post office grille, Georgie Fields from the Royal Oak and Bel Tutt.

  Valda Senior didn’t heed Jimbo’s request. ‘When all’s said and done, it’s an unspoken agreement that if we can score off that old Fitch we do. Whoever it was who split on Vera deserves horsewhipping. We saw, but we didn’t say a thing, did we, Thelma?’ Her sister, with pursed lips, shook her head in agreement.

  Georgie, small and pretty and looking as if an argument was the last thing she wanted, tapped on the post office counter and said through the grille to Linda, ‘You ought to have more sense.’

  Indignantly Linda answered, ‘It wasn’t me, I didn’t tell. All I said was that they shouldn’t expect to steal and then get away with it. That’s all. I saw ’em unloading the stuff too but I didn’t squeal. Not me.’ She folded her arms as though to emphasise her innocence.

  Bel Tutt pinged the till, gave Thelma Senior her change, and said, ‘Well, if none of us has an inkling, who the blazes has?’

  An uncomfortable silence followed this question which Pat filled with, ‘By the looks of it Dad’s going to lose his job, we’re about to lose our house and Dean the university scholarship old Fitch promised him. If anybody would like to know, it’s me.’ She glared round. ‘We’re the ones suffering the most. Well, Vera is too and Rhett, but we could be losing the roof over our heads.’

  Linda, coming out from behind the grille, said forcefully, ‘In my opinion it’s someone with a grudge against Vera. That’s what’s triggered it off. When they did it, they didn’t see the consequences of it affecting you.’

  ‘That’s right. That could be it. So who’s got a grudge against poor, harmless Vera?’ Pat looked at each woman in turn, finally fixing her gaze on Mrs Jones, who flushed to the roots of her hair.

  ‘Don’t look at me. I’ve no grudge against anyone. Anyway, I’ve got work piling up.’ She gave Pat a haughty stare and marched into the back of the Store.

  Jimbo removed his boater, wiped his bald head with a handkerchief, replaced his headgear and said, ‘Well now, having sorted that out perhaps we could get on with our shopping? Can I help anyone? Good offers on the meat counter today and tomorrow if anyone’s interested?’

  The two Senior sisters ambled out, Georgie paid for her shopping and left, Linda returned to her counter and Bel Tutt waited patiently behind the till.

  Disgruntled by the argument Pat said sharply, ‘I’ve really come in, Jimbo, to catch up on my dates. In the circumstances I’m willing to work whenever and wherever. Looks like we shall need the money.’ She brought a fat red diary from her bag and opened it up.

  ‘Come in the back. I need a break.’ He took her into his office, took off his boater and reached for his diary from the top of the filing cabinet.

  Before he had found the right page, Pat, making sure the door was properly closed first, said, ‘Jimbo, did you notice that dear mother-in-law of mine didn’t say she hadn’t split? Just that she’d no grudge, that was all she said. Do yer think it might be her?’

  ‘No idea, Pat, she’s your mother-in-law. What’s done’s done. It’s too late now. Just have to limit the damage as best you can.’

  ‘I don’t suppose you’d have a word, would yer? Just for me?’ As an afterthought she added, ‘and Dad, and our Dean.’

  ‘With Jeremy?’

  ‘No, not him. He’s just a yes man. Well, yes, perhaps with him before it’s too late. Well, no, I meant with Mr Fitch really. He’s very partic’lar nowadays not to upset everybody, ever since he let Muriel Templeton persuade him to reinstate Sir Ralph as president of the cricket. If you could let him know on the quiet that the whole village is upset …’

  ‘Well, they’re certainly that. There’s been no other topic of conversation in here but your bad luck and Vera’s. Never known the village so worked up about anything.’

  Pat frowned. ‘That’s what I’m worried about. They might take matters into their own hands. You know what they’re like. I wouldn’t want this director’s weekend messed up.’ Jimbo noticed that Pat looked as though she wished she hadn’t said that.

  He put his head to one side and looked at her. ‘Do you know something I should know?’

  Pat shook her head. ‘No, no, nothing. No.’

  ‘Because if this director’s weekend is ruined I shall want to know who’s at the bottom of it. It’s important to me that the weekend goes well.
They’re all influential people with money to burn and it could mean an awful lot more business being put my way, which in turn lines your pockets as well as mine. We need to make a good impression, Pat. Right?!’

  Pat nodded. ‘Of course. About these dates.’

  ‘Leave it for now. I’m expecting a rep any minute and I’m not in the mood. Why everyone has to choose my Store to air their disagreements I’ll never know.’

  Pat gave him a nudge. ‘You know full well you like to be at the hub of all the gossip. You can’t kid me.’

  Jimbo grinned. ‘You’re right. I do.’

  ‘It’s good for business anyway.’

  ‘Right again! See you, Pat.’

  ‘See yer.’ As she opened the door she turned back to ask, ‘Will yer have a word?’

  Jimbo nodded.

  ‘Bye men.’

  She left him staring out of the office window. What a mess. All because Rhett wanted to please his grandmother. Like a stone thrown into a pond, the ripples were far reaching. First Vera then Rhett and now the Joneses and Greenwood Stubbs. To save his own skin he’d better have a word. That fool Jeremy wouldn’t listen, he knew that, but at least he could try.

  He heard footsteps and found Harriet standing behind him.

  He smiled at her. ‘Darling! How’s things?’

  ‘Oh, fine, if only.’

  ‘Mmmmm?’

  Harriet ran her fingers through her hair in exasperation. ‘It’s Hugo. He’s getting me very annoyed.’

  ‘What’s new?’

  ‘I know I shouldn’t have suggested he came to stay, but I did and we’re landed with him. I told him that Caroline was off limits, but …’

  ‘Mmmm?’

  ‘I’m amazed you haven’t heard. He took her out to lunch yesterday and went all the way to The Lovers’ Knot, which you so kindly recommended, and it made her late collecting the children.’

  ‘That must be the best part of a twenty-five mile round trip! For lunch! He is a fool. I didn’t mean him to go there. Just mentioned it in passing.’

  ‘What worries me is Caroline agreeing to it. He’s absolutely captivated her, you know. I warned her about him and I thought she’d heed it.’

  ‘Keep out of it. Peter will solve it, I’m sure.’

  ‘Will he, though? You know how much Peter’s into personal-freedom-in-marriage-our-love-is-strong-enough and all that.’

  ‘One can’t help liking Hugo, that’s the trouble.’

  Harriet sighed. ‘I know.’

  Jimbo looked hard at her. ‘Harriet! Harriet!’

  ‘Don’t worry, not me.’

  ‘Like me to have a word?’

  ‘If you like. Diplomatically, of course. I can’t stand atmosphere at home.’

  ‘I could always ask him to sling his hook.’

  ‘No, we’ve all worked so hard on this play, and not just us, but Anne Parkin with the advertising and ticket sales, and the props and things. No, we can’t put the play in jeopardy. Be tactful, that’s all I ask.’

  ‘Tactful? What about?’

  They both turned at the sound of Hugo’s voice. ‘I came to see if I could make lunch for you, Harriet dearest, and you too Jimbo if you can spare the time from your –’ he waved an expressive hand round the office, ‘emporium.’

  He was wearing the briefest of white shorts with a tight fitting white tee shirt. The tan of his shapely legs was emphasised by the short white socks and white learner slip-ons he wore. He smiled at them both and said, ‘Well?’

  Jimbo cleared his throat. ‘Look here, Hugo …’

  ‘May I take a seat, it sounds like a dressing down is on the agenda.’ With perfect poise he placed himself on a stool beside the filing cabinet.

  ‘You’re right it is. Harriet and I are very, very fond of Caroline and we are not prepared to stand on the touch-line without blowing the whistle once or twice. She is off limits. Verboten. Forbidden. Not available for …’

  ‘Yes?’ Hugo’s eyes sparkled with fun.

  ‘Damn it, man, you’re too charming by half, and you know it. Please, leave her alone.’

  ‘Or …?’

  ‘You’ll have me to answer to, to say nothing of Peter. He may be a man of the cloth but he is extremely fit and I wouldn’t give much for your chances if he really blew his top. And, believe me, he can’t be far from it.’

  ‘You don’t have to worry about Peter. He allows Caroline to do exactly as she wishes. He loves her so much, you see.’

  ‘Is that so? I wouldn’t bank on it. However, if you wish to remain in my good books, and Harriet’s, you’d better cool it.’

  Hugo looked humble. Just how much of his humility was genuine and how much an act Harriet wasn’t quite sure, but she listened carefully to what he said next. ‘For the first time in my life I’m in love. Don’t spread that abroad, I don’t want anyone to know.’

  A deathly silence greeted his statement. Then Harriet broke it by laughing loudly. ‘You! In love? You don’t know the meaning of the word except where it relates to yourself. Come on, Hugo, pull the other one.’

  Hugo got up and, with tears glistening in his eyes, he said, ‘That’s my trouble, you see, no one believes I have genuine feelings. Lunch it is, then. For three.’

  When Harriet saw the lunch table she wondered if there was anything left in the fridge at all. He really had made an effort. He’d even poached some wine from Jimbo’s secret store.

  ‘Well, that’s wonderful, Hugo. We shan’t need another meal for a fortnight. Thank you so much.’ Harriet kissed his cheek and he heartily kissed her back.

  Jimbo stood in the doorway admiring the table. ‘Thanks greatly. I usually have an out of date pork pie or left over sandwich in the office. It’s really a treat to come home to this. Thanks.’

  ‘Not at all. Your hospitality has been above and beyond, I had to do something in return.’

  Jimbo smiled a little grimly. It hadn’t cost Hugo a penny. Then he remembered not to be mercenary and thanked him again for all the trouble he’d taken. ‘It makes no difference to what I said earlier. In love or not, you cool it. Right?’

  ‘I heard.’

  Jimbo left Bel and Harriet in charge at the Store and dashed up to the Big House straight after lunch. As he pulled up in front of the house the gravel spurted beneath his wheels and he narrowly missed one of the students taking a chance for a quick smoke between lectures. He called out cheerfully, ‘Sorry!’ The student waved his acknowledgement of Jimbo’s apology.

  Jimbo strode into the hall. ‘Good afternoon! How is my favourite girl this afternoon? Firing on all cylinders? As usual?’

  The receptionist beamed her pleasure at his arrival. ‘Jimbo! You darling man. Lovely to see you. Favourite girl indeed! Mr Fitch isn’t …’

  ‘I know, it’s Jeremy I need to see.’

  ‘He’s in his office, do go straight through.’

  ‘OK.’ Jimbo made off in the direction of Jeremy’s office but stopped before he’d left the hall. ‘You don’t know anything about this prosecution, do you?’

  In a stage whisper she answered, ‘Only that he’s hell bent on going through with it. I wouldn’t like to be in his shoes when Mr Fitch finds out he’s lost his head gardener and a first rate under gardener and from what I hear his estate carpenter too, because Barry’s been in and threatened to resign. Tread carefully!’

  Jimbo nodded. ‘Indeed. Right, thanks.’

  Jeremy hastily threw the wrapper of a Mars bar into his waste bin as Jimbo entered his office.

  ‘Good afternoon to you. Got a minute?’

  ‘For you, Jimbo, yes. How can I help? Catering problem is it? This directors’ weekend causing probs, eh?’

  ‘No. May I sit down?’

  ‘Of course.’

  Jimbo seated himself in one of the plush chairs and, leaning forward confidentially, asked, ‘When is Mr Fitch back?’

  Jimbo thought he detected Jeremy giving a slight shudder at his question. ‘Thursday.’

  �
��I see. Glad to have him back at the helm?’

  ‘What’s that got to do with you?’

  ‘Nothing, except …’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Have you got your bags packed in readiness?’

  ‘In readiness for what?’ His huge bulk shifted uneasily.

  ‘Leaving. You and Venetia.’

  Jeremy suddenly got the drift of Jimbo’s questions and began to bluster. ‘If you’ve come to persuade me to change my mind about prosecuting the lot of ’em, you’re barking up the wrong tree. Mr Fitch knows full well the village takes every advantage of him they can, and he said before he went away, “From now on anyone caught red-handed will be prosecuted, no matter what the consequences.” So all I’m doing is carrying out his instructions.’

  ‘But it’s so damaging! He may think it not worth the candle. Everything returned, the crazy paving paid for and no one, least of all Mr Fitch, will be any the wiser. Withdraw the charge. Honour restored on both sides.’

  Jeremy’s hand strayed towards the bottom drawer where he kept his supply of chocolate. He drew it back and said angrily, ‘Someone has to be made an example of. What would you do if one of your staff was taking food home? Eh?’

  ‘Sack ’em. But then kitchen hands are soon replaced, a talented gardener isn’t. You haven’t understood what it means, have you? A whole family out in the street. That’ll look good in the paper. Mr Fitch will love that. Oh yes.’ Jimbo paused for a moment to compose the most damaging headline he could but Jeremy got in first.

  ‘It’s none of your damned business. If you’ve nothing better to do, I have, so just leave.’

  ‘I’ve rattled your cage though, haven’t I?’

  Jeremy pressed his hands on the desk and heaved himself to his feet. He stabbed a thick finger in Jimbo’s direction. ‘Your influence extends as far as that green baize door in the dining room and no further, so get back to your kitchens and leave me to attend to more important affairs.’

  Amused, Jimbo stood up and, sounding rather more like an avenging angel than the entrepreneur he was, he said in sepulchural tones, ‘Be warned! The oracle has spoken. Your end is nigh.’ He left the room and quietly closed the door behind him. Grinning all over his face he waved to the receptionist and said, ‘I’ve upset him. Take care.’