Whispers in the Village

by Shaw, Rebecca

  ‘Never thought about it actually. Just came home and he offered me the job. Seemed a good idea at the time.’

  ‘I like people to reach their full potential and you could be up there amongst the movers and shakers.’

  ‘I’d miss everyone here though.’ Dean thought about her, and how he’d miss …

  ‘But they’re not all going to disappear, they’ll still be here when you come home for a visit. However, I don’t know why I’m suggesting it when you’re so good with the youth club. They need role models like you.’ She grinned at him and if he’d died at that moment he would have gladly gone without a single regret.

  ‘Another drink?’ Was that his voice he heard, gruff and croaky?’

  ‘Yes, please. Same again.’

  When he came back with their drinks, a crowd of people had come out onto the terrace to dance. Anna thanked him and put her glass on a stone beside a gnome fishing in the pond. ‘Here, give me yours; we’ll try dancing out here, much more fun than that stiff and starchy dining room.’

  ‘Let’s hope the gnome hasn’t drunk them before we get back!’

  ‘You never know – he might even fall drunk into the pond.’

  So they danced, and it gave him the closeness he wanted. It felt daring and dangerous, but wonderful and satisfying. He threw himself into action.

  When the music stopped, Anna said, ‘Wow! Thanks for that. Must go get my drink and circulate. See you soon!’ And left him standing there.

  Dean felt badly let down. He waited a while to give Anna a chance to find her drink, because he couldn’t face having to think of something to say to her, then he went into the garden, retrieved his drink from beside the gnome and looked at the empty space where Anna’s drink had been. Good at table tennis. God, what a pathetic talent, almost as bad as being good at tiddleywinks. All it was good for was impressing the youth club, nothing more and nothing less. It moved him not one notch closer to Anna. Then the worst of it, he saw Anna was dancing with Rhett and having lots of fun. Blast Rhett! Blast him.

  In fact, everyone was having a good time. The party was a brilliant success. Most of them threw any sophistication they might have to the winds and leaped and bounced on the bouncy castle like five-year-olds. But Dean had to draw the line at that. He just wasn’t designed for the abandonment a bouncy castle needed. Then he saw Anna having the time of her life. Dean hesitated. Dean prevaricated. Dean half moved towards it, half moved back again. Decided he just couldn’t then thought: Damn it! I will. Slipped off his shoes, and hurled himself onto it. In no time at all he and Anna were hand in hand, jumping and laughing, breathless, abandoned, till Anna slipped and hurt her ankle and had to retire.

  He sat her down on a fancy garden chair away from the crowd and went to find her another drink. But it was announced over the loudspeaker that the buffet was open and there was a concerted rush to eat, and he lost his chance with Anna and spent the rest of the night watching from the sidelines. She was never without a circle of people interested in chatting with her. He was desolate. He knew them all, Fergus, Finlay and Flick, Hugh and Guy, Rhett and most of the others, but he was too tongue-tied to join them.

  It had been decided by Neville that the party must finish at midnight and at five minutes to midnight Wee Willie Winkie put his lighted candlestick on a window sill to free his hands because on Neville’s insistence they were all going to join hands to sing ‘Auld Lang Syne’, much to Hugh and Guy’s embarrassment. Why did dads insist on old traditions long abandoned by the young set? they wondered. But no, he wouldn’t be denied. Well, he had footed the bill so they’d better humour the old chap.

  So they all crowded onto the terrace where there was more room and treated the village to a rather thin wavery rendition of ‘Auld Lang Syne’ because no one knew the words apart from the first couple of lines. Except for Neville, who sang it lustily if a little drunkenly.

  Thank heavens for that, the village thought. Now, at last, we shall be able to sleep. But before a single car door had slammed or engine started up, there was a cry of ‘Fire! Fire! Fire!’

  With windows and doors open, the wind had blown Wee Willie Winkie’s candle flame. It had caught the curtain, then the heavily draped pelmet above, then an oil painting beside it, then the draught had billowed the flames and in a moment the dining room was ablaze. Wee Willie Winkie, returning to retrieve his mother’s Victorian candle-holder, fell back at the door shouting, ‘Fire!’ as loud as he could.

  Anna, remembering she’d noticed a reel hose screwed to the outside wall of the house, grabbed Dean by the arm. ‘Come with me! We’ll get the hose.’

  Between them they rolled the hose out to full length, turned the tap and, as the water was released, they both held on tightly and directed the nozzle into an open window. It was a far more powerful hose than they had imagined and it took all their strength to keep it directed onto the flames. There was much shouting and filling of buckets and daring attempts to beat out the flames, but the flames would not be denied their victory.

  They’d been fighting it for twenty minutes before the fire engine from Culworth could get there. Hastening along the straight bits, surging round corners, cutting across grass verges, it came hurtling into the village down the Culworth Road, scattering the onlookers. Never had it been more welcome.

  Eyes weeping with the effects of the smoke and their skin feeling scorched by the flames, Anna and Dean were glad for Rhett and Guy to take over the hose.

  ‘Where’s Michelle? Where’s Michelle? Anyone seen Michelle?’ Dean rushed about amongst the party-goers searching for her. Then there she was and he flung his arms round her and gave her a big hug. ‘All right?’

  ‘While you’ve been doing your hero bit, I was trapped in the downstairs loo and had to climb out of the window. I’ve torn this new nightie and I wish I hadn’t. I’ve had such a great time.’ Then Michelle burst into tears and Dean had to hug her even harder.

  Eventually the fire was extinguished but not before the dining room and part of the hall were gutted.

  Liz stood, full of despair, watching the horrific end to their fun evening. ‘Neville! I can’t believe it. We shall have to begin from scratch. There’ll be nothing worth saving.’

  Neville said, ‘Well, at least everything’s insured. And no one was hurt, thank goodness. And we’ve made over five hundred pounds and that doesn’t include the profit on the bar takings. So I call that a successful night. Added to which, we’ve all had a great time.’

  Anna shouted above the hubbub, ‘Three cheers for Neville and Liz, everyone. Hip hip hurrah! Hip hip hurrah! Hip hip hurrah! Goodnight. God bless you all.’ She found herself being kissed and hugged by everyone for being the heroine of the hour and that included Dean, who, in the excitement of the moment, kissed and hugged her like everyone else. But he wasn’t thinking about her quick reaction over the hose, more how much he was enjoying having a reason to kiss and hug her. It ignited Dean’s feelings for her all over again, and left him more intent than ever on pursuing her.

  Most of the guests stood around in the garden, more out of curiosity than anything, to see the firemen checking the fire was definitely out, making notes, asking if they knew how it started, had everyone been accounted for? They looked at each other in surprise. Had anyone counted? Blank faces all round. No, they hadn’t done a count, it never entered their heads.

  ‘Why not?’

  Neville became authoritative. ‘In the heat of the moment it never occurred to us. We were all out on the terrace, you see, when we noticed the fire. And certainly no one was in the bedrooms. I’m positive. I was very strict about that.’

  The fire officer raised a sceptical eyebrow. ‘I’ll check.’ He disappeared and returned in a few minutes, escorting two friends of Guy’s, both laughing their heads off. ‘These two were upstairs, sir, in one of the bedrooms. It could have been a tragedy, it could. However …’

  Neville was speechless. As for the couple, the girl was almost hysterical with amuseme
nt when she looked at their faces, and the young man, at first acutely embarrassed, also began to laugh, which infected all the others and soon they were all roaring. How to get your lovelife advertised! Far more effective than sending out emails.

  But the village still couldn’t sleep because of the party-goer’s car that had slid into the pond and had to be pulled out. Neville coerced the firemen to attach ropes to it and pull it out. The wheels had sunk well down into the sludge at the bottom and the car, after a lot of revving on the part of the fire engine, emerged from it with a great sucking noise amidst rousing cheers from the party-goers and half the village, who’d flung on trousers over pyjamas and coats over nightdresses in order to join in the fun.

  It was two o’clock in the morning before the village quietened down enough for everyone to get to sleep. What a night! What fun they’d had! And this was only the opening night of their festivities.

  A pale moon appeared from behind the clouds, shining on the white painted cottages, highlighting the dark beams and the thatched roofs and the occasional cat out hunting. So peaceful now the village looked, as though it had been forgotten by time. But under the ancient roofs a new spirit beat, a new energy, a feeling of anticipation nothing could dim. If this was what could happen at a pyjama party, what on earth could they expect from the skinny-dipping night and the afternoon at the races? And that pair found upstairs in a bedroom after the fire! Still, you were only young once, and it had happened dozens of times before in this village, except it had been haylofts and barns then, not one of Neville’s splendid bedrooms. Time made little change to that kind of hanky-panky. More than one chuckled at the thought as they hunched their duvets a little higher and drifted off to sleep.

  Chapter 9

  The knocking at the rectory door at nine o’clock on the Monday morning woke Anna with a start. Look at the time! Heavens! She leaped out of bed, opened the bedroom window and looked down to find Sir Ralph on her doorstep. She called out, ‘Sorry, slept in. Can you come back, please?’

  Ralph looked up. ‘Good morning. Of course I can. Back in an hour.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Anna closed the window and sat down on the bed a moment to collect her thoughts. How the blazes had she slept in? She picked up her bedside clock to check the time. She’d never set the alarm. For Ralph to catch her oversleeping! Blast it. She dashed out onto the landing and called up, ‘Paddy! Are you there? Have you gone?’

  She heard a grunting noise and realized he’d slept in, too. Would he lose his job? ‘Paddy, it’s nine o’clock. You’re late.’

  ‘I’ll take a sicky. The dragon said I’d be out on my ear if I was late, so I’m sick. Forgot to set the alarm.’

  She heard the bed creak as he turned over. ‘So did I. I’ll ring up for you, then.’

  Anna took the briefest of showers, dried herself, omitted the body lotion, flung on the nearest clean things she could find and charged downstairs. She phoned Michelle on Paddy’s behalf saying they’d both slept in and he’d be coming in late and sorry. Fingers crossed, she hoped she’d manage to persuade him to do just that. If she couldn’t … well, she’d have to think of something else. Paddy was like that, though; you found yourself doing things you’d never intended for him, and he didn’t give a fig. But lying for him was something she wasn’t prepared to do. Anna went into the kitchen to start breakfast.

  Paddy came down in a few minutes still in his pyjamas.

  ‘Thought you were taking a sicky?’

  ‘I am. But I need my breakfast and then I’m going back to bed.’

  ‘Don’t ask me to phone for you again. Don’t mind if it’s genuine but not when it’s a total fib and all you’ve done is oversleep.’

  ‘Look who’s talking.’

  ‘I’m not going to argue. I’ve something better to do with my time.’ She handed him the cereal packet and watched the flakes pouring into his bowl until it was filled to the brim. He couldn’t half eat. ‘By the way, you’ve been paid now. How about something for the housekeeping?’

  Paddy mumbled a reply through a mouth crammed with cornflakes.

  ‘Mmm?’

  ‘I said all in good time. I’ll leave it an hour or two and then I’ll wander up there, saying I feel better and thought I wouldn’t let her down. Do an extra couple of hours tonight instead.’

  ‘You sound as though you enjoy working up there.’

  There was a brief hesitation and then Paddy said, ‘Of course not, work’s for fools.’ But he thought about sitting in the wheelbarrow in the sun, eating his lunch, and how much he enjoyed that blissful hour with his back resting against the brick wall of the potting shed, thinking about life. His life. ‘I only work to eat.’

  ‘Then pay me for it, please.’

  ‘OK. OK. Keep your hair on.’

  Anna went upstairs to clean her teeth, got nicely into her two-minute cleaning routine and so was unaware that someone had rung the doorbell. Paddy launched himself from the kitchen table and went to answer it.

  Ralph, well-schooled in good manners, kept his astonishment to himself and said, ‘Ralph Templeton to see Anna.’

  ‘Come in, come in. She’s cleaning her teeth, she won’t be a minute.’

  Paddy showed Ralph into the study.

  ‘You’ll excuse me. We overslept, you see. Got to get ready.’

  Ralph sat in the comfy armchair, fuming. Just back from holidaying abroad, suffering from jetlag and on top of that kept awake by the pyjama party and then the fire. Ralph was in no mood for finding the rector, apparently, sleeping with some unshaven down-and-out. No, of course not, there must be some other explanation. It wasn’t what it looked like. Of course not. She wouldn’t, would she? Certainly not, though the evidence pointed to guilt. What were things coming to? A live-in lover in the rectory. But he mustn’t judge.

  The door burst open and there was Anna. ‘Sorry to keep you waiting, Sir Ralph. Slept in. Must be the aftermath of Saturday night. What a successful evening we had, well, apart from the fire and the car in the pond, but even that added to the fun. Have you had a good trip?’

  ‘Yes, thank you. Just a few days but it has perked us both up.’

  ‘Now what can I do for you?’

  ‘An explanation would be welcome.’

  ‘Explanation? Of what?’ Anna sat down at her desk, wishing he’d been shown into the sitting room; in the smaller study he was too close.

  ‘I came about parish business only to find you have a lodger.’

  ‘Oh, you mean Paddy.’

  ‘Well?’

  ‘Well, he’s a down-and-out I’ve rescued from the streets in Culworth. He slept under the railway bridge and I felt he needed a leg-up, so I offered him a home.’

  ‘I see.’ How to phrase it? thought Ralph. ‘Is he purely a lodger?’

  Anna was horrified. ‘Of course he is. My God, you don’t think—’

  ‘It appears that way.’

  Anna got to her feet. ‘I can assure you that is what he is. He’s got a job in the gardens at the Big House. Going every day, well, except today but that was a mistake, sleeping in. I’m surprised at you, Sir Ralph, even thinking on those lines.’ She managed to give the impression of an outraged person. Which she was, of course.

  ‘I’m not really into these liberal ideas, all this bending over backwards to be politically correct. PC they call it, don’t they? Trying hard to see the other’s point of view, instead of standing up for what you know is right. I call a spade a spade and if I thought for one minute that you were co-habiting, I would put a stop to it. It’s enough that we tolerate modern hymns and arm-waving but that—’

  ‘Frankly I think it’s none of your business, Sir Ralph, none at all, what goes on in my home.’

  ‘In Peter’s home.’

  ‘Well then, in Peter’s home.’

  ‘He wouldn’t allow anything of that nature. Very strict he was.’

  ‘Not strict enough from what I hear.’

  Ralph saw he’d stepped straight into a moral
abyss. How much did she know? ‘Well, he can’t help women running after him. He’s a very attractive man.’

  ‘Indeed. However, I can assure you …’

  The door burst open without so much as a knock. It was Paddy. ‘Just off to the gardens, Anna. Back tonight. I’ll be late, got to catch up. See yer, Ralph.’ Paddy left as quickly as he came.

  ‘I can assure you that nothing of an immoral nature is going on in this house. I really shouldn’t have to defend myself, you know, you’re not being quite fair.’

  Ralph got to his feet. ‘I’m sorry, of course you shouldn’t. I’m at fault, jumped in with both feet. Just back, jetlag and Saturday night, trying to sleep … well …’ He pulled a wry face. ‘You must accept my apologies. It went off all right, did it? The pyjama party?’

  ‘Oh, yes! Absolutely fine. Everyone very well behaved, and Neville even wore a red wig!’

  ‘My word! Good for Neville, time he relaxed a little. Stuffed shirt, you know, even by my standards! Must go. I’ve decided I’m too tired to go through the parish business. I’ll delay it for another day. Thank you for being frank with me.’

  ‘He’s all right, you know, is Paddy. Hard life. But he’s pulling himself up and making great strides. Good morning, Sir Ralph.’

  ‘Good morning to you.’

  Anna dashed into the sitting room to pick up her bag and keys before going to Penny Fawcett. For some reason, though, she felt things were not right. She stood gazing round, wondering what had alerted her. Then she realized, checked and checked again. There’d been four of Caroline’s Staffordshire figures on each shelf in the left-hand alcove, sixteen all together, but today there were only three on each shelf. The remaining ones had been spread out evenly to disguise the fact that four were missing. The right-hand alcove still had four on each shelf. Damn and blast him. Damn and blast him. She’d throttle Paddy when he got back. Thing was, how long had they been missing? He’d gone into Culworth on Saturday; perhaps he’d sold them there. They were worth a mint.