A Village Feud

by Shaw, Rebecca

  ‘I saw a signpost about a museum in Bickerby Village. We’ll go and have a look.’

  ‘It won’t be open in winter.’

  ‘It might.’

  Jenny was shaking with fear. Her mouth dry. Her knees weak. Would he have done it? Would he have really pushed her over? She glanced at him and he caught her eye and smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes, and smiles to be real had to reach your eyes. She avoided speaking in case he picked up on the tremor in her voice. Oh, God, had it come to this?

  Because of Andy spilling so much milk they’d none for breakfast the next day, so Jenny dashed across to the Store to get some before she began to make the breakfast. It always opened by half past seven and she was turning the corner into Stocks Row by seven thirty-one.

  When the front of the Store came into view Jenny stopped, riven to the spot with horror. It appeared as though a bomb had dropped during the night. Both the windows and the glass in the door had been smashed, leaving vast, gaping holes. Someone had viciously bashed the window time after time. Jimbo was there with Harriet, Grandmama and the police, and, as Jenny walked towards them, a window repair company van roared up and parked with a shriek of brakes. More people were rushing out of their houses to find out what had happened.

  ‘Surely to goodness!’

  ‘Has the village gone mad?’

  ‘Who could have done it?’

  ‘But why, that’s what I want to know?’

  Harriet brought out Jimbo’s crutches, as he’d hobbled out without them, and a chair for him to sit on. As she put down the chair she shouted, ‘I said sit down. Now. You’ll do untold damage otherwise.’

  ‘Harriet! Who’s telling us what?’

  ‘I don’t know, darling, but take it calmly. It’s only bits of glass and no one’s been hurt. That’s the important thing.’

  ‘I’ll kill whoever it is.’ Jimbo was beside himself with anger. ‘I will. They’re evil, that’s what. I didn’t know someone hated us this much.’

  The glass people and the police began to confer, while the crowd of people in various stages of dress and undress grew bigger. The police examined the scene of the crime and found nothing in the way of a weapon. ‘It must have been something like a crow bar or a rounders bat they used. Not bricks thrown at the windows because they’d be inside,’ they decided.

  The police scratched their heads, walked about vaguely looking for clues, asked if anyone had heard the noise. Several voices piped up.

  ‘I heard something about four when I got up for a … went to the bathroom, like crashing noises, but I was so tired it never really registered.’

  ‘So did I,’ said someone else, ‘but I thought it was the dustbin men doing their round extra early. You know what they’re like, they come earlier and earlier. No idea it was this.’

  There were murmurs of sympathy all round.

  ‘All your wonderful display in ruins, Jimbo. I am so sorry.’ This was Linda Crimble, no longer persona non grata as she had been for so long. ‘Wish I’d seen ’em.’

  ‘You live nearest, Linda. Didn’t you hear anything?’

  ‘No, I didn’t. Slept like a log last night, I did. Fancy all that going on and we’re all asleep. Didn’t hear no alarm go off either.’

  ‘Damn and blast! Damn and blast!’ Jimbo could have wept at the destruction. ‘The blasted alarm wasn’t on. Well, now, if you police have finished and can’t find any clues, could this glass company get a chance to put things right? Please?’

  The police agreed. Made notes. Questioned anyone and everyone who looked likely to know something and left the glass people to proceed.

  Naturally they hadn’t the right-sized glass on the van, as the shop window needed thick safety glass, and it would take two hours to get hold of some. Would Mr Charter-Plackett please leave someone to guard the shop while they went away to get it? And he’d need someone to clear the glass before they began.

  ‘Don’t you do that?’ asked Jimbo, his temper starting to flare again.

  ‘We break out the glass left in the frame but not loose glass lying about.’

  Jimbo raised his arms in despair. ‘Well, thanks very much. Very thoughtful, I must say. You can see I’m incapacitated, how the hell do you expect me—’

  Tom interrupted, ‘Don’t fret, keep calm, I’ll see to it. I’ll use my gardening gloves to handle the glass.’

  Willie, who’d come to pick up his morning paper as he always did at this time, volunteered to help Tom and so did Jimmy.

  ‘Thanks. Thank you very much. Right. Harriet, you get inside and watch where you walk and serve anyone who’s here right now and wanting to shop, as best you can. Linda, get some card out of my office and write a notice saying we’re closed.’

  Jenny was grateful. She didn’t want to incur Andy’s wrath by going home without the milk; he always loved his first cup of tea. She’d slept on the sofa last night, fearing to sleep in the same bed as him. He wouldn’t have noticed because he usually slept soundly anyway.

  Jenny tiptoed into the Store, avoiding the glass, bought the milk and scurried home as fast as she could. He was still asleep, thank goodness. But she’d have to wake him as he’d said he’d be in work early that morning, to have a scout round and see what the others were up to. A clever way to keep ahead of the game, he said.

  Of course, thought Jenny, I could always blow the gaffe on him and inform Social Services that his references were forged. That at least was a weapon she possessed. But not much else. No, not much else. What a mess she was in.

  Not nearly in as much of a mess as Jimbo felt himself to be. He didn’t dare try to get inside into his office for fear he might fall negotiating the debris, so he sat outside on the chair Harriet had found for him and repeated, what felt like hundreds of times, to customers that they couldn’t be served until the mess was well and truly cleared up.

  He moaned to Harriet, ‘Just wish I damn well knew who’d done it. I’d wring their necks.’

  ‘Don’t do that, Jimbo, for heaven’s sake. What would happen to your empire if you had to go to prison? No. That’s not a good idea at all.’

  ‘Suppose not, but it’s tempting. If you suspect anyone let me know.’

  Harriet finally insisted he went home for lunch. ‘I’m coming with you. We’ve nearly done inside. We’ll open after lunch.’ She could see the strain in Jimbo’s face. His normally healthy complexion was drained and a frown was etched, forever it seemed, on his forehead.

  Grandmama had helped for as long as she could but had had to go home, too exhausted to continue. She greeted them at the front door.

  ‘Good! You’ve come home and about time. I’ve made lunch and tidied the kitchen so all you have to do is sit down and relax. Just sorry I couldn’t stay longer to help. Jimbo, sit down. As of now. Just do as I say.’

  She stood behind his chair and, when he’d seated himself, she said, ‘We’ll survive this, don’t you fret, we will. I’ve never been so angry. The nasty, evil beggars who’ve done this to you, I could strangle them with my bare hands.’

  Jimbo patted her hand where it lay on his shoulder. ‘So could I, Mother, so could I. Thanks for lunch. Wonderful. I’m starving.’

  Harriet joined them at the table, deeply grateful for her mother-in-law’s common sense. ‘I’m so desperate for this.’ She took a large bite of her sandwich, chewed for a while and then said, ‘Has that creep Andy been in recently with one of his famous “I’m returning this, it’s gone off” performances?’

  ‘No. Why? Do you suspect him?’

  Harriet shook her head. ‘No more than anyone else. Just wondered, that’s all.’

  Grandmama looked piercingly at Jimbo and asked, ‘How many times has he done that?’

  ‘Twice when I happened to be in and once when it was Tom and Bel. They followed company policy and of course offered him his money back and fresh food in exchange. But he’s been badmouthing us frequently.’

  ‘How do you know that?’

  �
�Customers tell me.’

  Grandmama eyed him speculatively. ‘I wonder why.’

  ‘He’s intent on ruining me.’

  ‘Did he write that poison pen letter? Is he the one who’s thieving, too?’

  Jimbo shrugged. ‘How do I know? There’s been nothing further on that front.’

  Grandmama murmured, ‘I was in the Store yesterday and saw Jenny. I was sure she’d a mark on her neck as if she’d been punched.’

  Harriet, always on the side of women in jeopardy, asked sharply, ‘Did you say anything?’

  ‘Absolutely not. Didn’t want to interfere. If she’s willing to put up with being a battered wife, more fool her. At least that was something I never had to deal with. Thank God. I’d probably have murdered him in his sleep.’

  ‘She may be in need of help.’

  Jimbo interrupted. ‘And then again …’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Discussing their marital relations doesn’t help solve the problem of our windows, does it?’ Jimbo looked at them both. They both saw how he’d aged since this broken ankle business and what had happened this morning had made him more haggard than ever. ‘Let’s change the subject. Christmas soon. More work.’

  ‘More money, too.’ Harriet smiled cheerfully at him. ‘Shall we have our evening party this year as usual?’

  ‘I don’t think so. Got a mite jaded about all this jollity for which Jimbo and Harriet fork out a lot of money and for what in return?’

  ‘Darling! Do cheer up. This won’t do at all.’

  ‘Does a party really improve our takings? I don’t think so. We fulfil all the requirements of a Village Store and they’re all grateful for us. They come because we’re the only local shop unless they go all the way to the other side of the bypass or right into Culworth. I had thought that supermarket opening right on the bypass would see the end of us. It hasn’t. So, why bother?’

  Harriet nodded her head. ‘Let’s do it differently, then. Mulled wine and mince pies in the Store for whoever comes in on the Saturday before Christmas. How about that?’

  Jimbo didn’t answer so Grandmama filled the silence by saying heartily, ‘Good idea, that. Yes. I think that’s splendid.’

  Jimbo nodded. ‘Agreed. I’m going back to the Store to see what’s happening, OK?’

  ‘Shall I drive you there?’

  ‘No. I’ll walk. The day I can walk without these damned crutches can’t come soon enough for me.’

  ‘Are you sure? I don’t mind.’

  Jimbo growled, ‘I’m sure.’ And staggered away, much more proficient with his crutches than he had been, but still finding it an exhausting way of getting about.

  ‘I’ll be over when I’ve cleared up.’

  Grandmama interrupted. ‘Don’t worry about that, Harriet, I’ll clear up and I’ll be in for Fran coming home so do what you have to do, right? Don’t worry. If need be I’ll cook the evening meal, that’s the least I can do. Just let me know what you want.’

  ‘Thank you, Katherine, you’re worth your weight in gold.’

  *

  That afternoon Andy came in with yet another unsatisfactory purchase he claimed Jenny had made from the Store. Andy opened the packet to show him the problem.

  ‘Glass. Just a sliver but that’s all that’s needed to kill someone.’

  Because of pain brought on by fatigue Jimbo had been finally compelled to sit down on one of his customers’ chairs reserved especially for coffee drinkers, and so was looking up at Andy. He got to his feet, not in the best of moods.

  ‘How come you’re the only customer of ours who finds anything at all wrong with the food I sell? This is the third time it’s happened to my knowledge, and I want to know why.’

  ‘There’s no need to throw your toys out of your pram. If the food’s not right then I want my money back. I mean, glass! How dangerous can it get?’

  With a lightning flash of inspiration Jimbo asked belligerently, ‘Question is, is it my food?’

  ‘Well, of course it is. I wouldn’t come back here if it wasn’t, would I?’

  ‘Well, I’m sorry—’

  ‘Look, Jenny bought it in all good faith, and it’s dangerous. Quite definitely. I’ve got the receipt.’ He began fumbling in his pocket.

  ‘I don’t want to see it. Stop shopping here. I won’t even have Jenny in here. I’m not prepared to put up with this ruse of yours any longer. You’re a complete fraud. In fact, you’re a thief. I don’t know why you’re doing it but it’s got to stop.’

  ‘No replacement, then?’

  Jimbo weighed up the matter in his mind and decided to go for it. ‘No. And that’s my final answer.’

  ‘Right. You’ve heard him, have you? All of you? Sells dangerous food and then won’t recompense me for it. You’ll be lucky to have a Store by this time next week. I’ll see it closed down. Health and Safety will have a field day with this little lot.’

  ‘I’m damned if I’ll have anything more to do with you. You’re a pain in the backside. Is it you breaking the windows and sending me poison pen letters? Is it? Eh? Well?’

  Andy scornfully eyed him up and down. ‘Give me credit for more sense than that. Of course it isn’t me.’

  ‘Just get out and don’t darken my door again.’ Jimbo flung open the shop door and pointed dramatically to the street. ‘Go on! Out! Damn you and good riddance!’

  ‘How dare you humiliate me in front of everyone.’

  ‘You can humiliate me in front of my customers but I can’t humiliate you, is that it? Believe me, I’m being restrained. Fair’s fair. Out! Right now!’

  ‘Your humiliation was justified. Mine isn’t. I have right on my side, I have. And good morning to you, Mr Too-big-for-his-boots-Charter-Plackett.’

  Andy stormed out of the Store in high dudgeon. He’d chosen a good moment for his complaint because the Store was again full of mothers picking up shopping while waiting for the children to come out of school. All the same, because of the pleasure he took in harming Jimbo’s business, he’d almost, almost enjoyed the idea of admitting to the poison pen letters and the broken windows, and had stopped himself only just in time.

  A deathly hush fell in the Store. The customers were afraid to speak for they’d never seen Jimbo as angry as this. Tom and Bel simply froze.

  Harriet had witnessed the whole of the exchange between Jimbo and Andy and was horrified at what the incident might do to their business. She just knew that Jimbo had really and truly reached the end of his tether. So it was Harriet who broke the silence by saying in her quietest, most considerate voice, ‘Jimbo, I insist you go home. Right now. I’ll stay on. You go.’

  Tom agreed and so did Bel. ‘You’ve done enough today. Just go home, we’re all quite capable of holding the fort.’

  So Jimbo did. He had a double whisky and then another and sat down in his thinking chair to contemplate just how much damage Andy could do to his business. If he closed the Store down Andy wouldn’t have the chance to ruin it. Why not just do the catering side and damn the rest? He would. That would be easier than all this irritation. Yes, he’d close it. While it did well it still needed the other two sides of the business to make it viable. Without the Store he’d have a lot less aggravation and a lot less work, and fewer outgoings on wages and heating and lighting and money tied up in stock. Closing the shop seemed by far the most sensible thing to do. Hang them all. It was as though a great burden had been lifted from his shoulders. It would be easy to cope with the catering and Harriet’s Country Cousin mail order. It would also give him a chance to find the time to set up selling the marmalades and such on the internet, which was something he’d wanted to do for a long time.

  Yes, he would. And why not? It wasn’t written in stone that Jimbo Charter-Plackett had to keep the Store open, was it now? No. If he wanted to close the Store, who could stop him? No one.

  Yes, that is exactly what he’d do. Damn them all. He’d close it. Andy was the final straw. He’d close the Store, and let no
one try to persuade him otherwise.

  Chapter 10

  The next morning Dottie rather imagined she’d been let off talking to Beth because she was nowhere to be seen. But just as Dottie had had a word with Caroline and was collecting her cleaning things Beth appeared in the kitchen.

  There was something of an improvement in her looks, as though she were finally thinking of digging herself out of that big black hole she’d been in for so long.

  ‘Good morning, Dottie. Hello, Mummy. Have a cup of tea with me, Dottie?’

  Caroline switched the kettle on. ‘It won’t be a moment.’

  ‘Yes, I will.’ Dottie dumped her cleaning things in the hall and sat herself down at the kitchen table. ‘Nice morning. Good to be out.’

  Beth ignored that remark. ‘You’ve heard, Dottie?’

  ‘What about?’

  ‘Jimbo’s closing the Store. Isn’t it awful?’

  Dottie couldn’t believe her ears. ‘Jimbo’s closing the Store? Closing it, as in for ever?’

  ‘Yes, hadn’t you heard?’

  ‘First I know about it. I went to visit a friend of mine over the other side of Culworth yesterday and didn’t get back till late. I’d no idea. I knew about his broken windows because I saw those when the bus stopped outside. That must have been the last straw.’

  ‘Well, apparently he put a notice on the door yesterday afternoon. He’s closing at the end of January.’

  ‘No! But how shall we manage without him?’

  ‘Unless he sells it to someone, everyone’ll have to shop in Culworth.’

  ‘That’s a bind for people like me what have no car.’

  ‘Exactly. Harriet told Mummy last night on the phone that the first she knew was Jimbo sticking the notice up on the door. She said it was a terrible shock.’

  ‘I should say. His shop makes Turnham Malpas important, you know, because they all come here to shop from Little Derehams and Penny Fawcett and all places between. Well, that’s a blow and not half.’

  ‘It is. But we’ve been lucky all these years having his shop, haven’t we? There’s not many villages with a shop as good as his.’