(6/13) Gossip from Thrush Green

by Miss Read

  They've done very well,' conceded Miss Watson, scrutinizing the top comic. 'I see this one is dared 1965. Pity dear old "Rainbow" is now defunct. Did you have it as a child, Agnes?'

  Alas, no! My father thought comics an unnecessary indulgence, but I sometimes saw "Rainbow" at a little friend's house. I particularly enjoyed Marzipan the Magician, and a little girl with two dogs.'

  'Bluebell,' said Miss Watson. At least, I think it was. It's some time since I read the paper, but how I loved Mrs Bruin! I wonder why she always wore a white cap, and that same frock with a poached-egg pattern?'

  Easy to draw, perhaps,' suggested Agnes practically. 'Do you think I could transfer some of the boxes of beads to the wet-day box?'

  An excellent idea,' said Miss Watson. 'And remind me to look out some old "Geographical" magazines when we go home. Plenty there to amuse them. Such beautiful pictures—and if you like they could cut some out and start scrap books.'

  'That's most generous of you,' said little Miss Fogerty, pink with pleasure at the thought of such riches. With such small joys are good infants' teachers made happy, which may explain why so many remain ever youthful.

  Later that evening, Miss Watson routed out the magazines from the landing cupboard, and the two ladies were busy leafing through them when the telephone rang.

  Miss Watson retired to the hall and was there for some time. Agnes was just wondering whether a splendid picture of an African family wearing only long ear-rings and a spike through the nose was quite suitable for her infants, when her headmistress returned. She was breathing rather heavily.

  'That was Ray,' she said. 'They are just about to set off on this Cotswold tour they had to postpone because of that wretched dog of theirs.'

  'Is it better?' asked Agnes.

  Unfortunately, yes! They propose to bring it with them - which I consider a mistake, and told Ray so - but, as you know, they are quite besotted with the animal and fear that it might pine in kennels.'

  'Won't it be difficult to find hotels willing to take a labrador? I mean, it's such a large dog.'

  'It is indeed, and this one is completely untrained, as you know. That is why Ray asked if they could stay here for two or three nights.'

  'Oh! Can we manage?'

  'We cannot!' said Dorothy Watson firmly. 'I told him so last time he mooted the question, and I suppose he thinks that I may have changed my mind. Well, I haven't. I have invited them to tea on the day they arrive in Lulling, and the dog can stay in the car while they eat it.'

  'But, Dorothy, it may be a cold afternoon,' pleaded Agnes. 'Perhaps it could stay in the kitchen?'

  'Well, we'll see,' said Dorothy, relenting a little, in the face of her friend's agitation. 'But I make no rash promises.'

  And with that little Miss Fogerty had to be content.

  She spent the night comforting herself with the thought that dear Dorothy's bark was always worse than her bite, and with another thought, equally cheering, that blood was thicker than water, and even if The Fleece forbade animals, The Fuchsia Bush always allowed pets to accompany their owners at lunch or tea.

  The last of Agnes Fogerty's hopes was somewhat dashed the next morning by Willie Bond, the fat postman who shared the Thrush Green post round with gaunt Willie Marchant.

  'Heard the latest?' he enquired, passing over three manilla envelopes obviously from the Education Office, and a postcard from America which, no doubt, was from the Hursts.

  'No, Willie. What is it?'

  Agnes could hear the kettle boiling, and was anxious to return to her duties.

  'They say the old Fuchsia Bush is packing up.'

  'Never!' gasped Agnes. 'I can't believe it! It always seems so busy.'

  'Well, there it is. Can't make it pay, seemingly, and them girls wants the earth for wages, no doubt, so it'll have to put up its shutters.'

  'We shall all miss it,' said Agnes.

  'Your kettle's boiling from the sound of things,' said Willie, making slowly for the gate. 'Be all over the floor by the time you gets there.'

  'Yes, of course, of course!'

  Agnes hurried down the hall and met Dorothy entering the kitchen. She told her the dread news.

  Miss Watson took the blow with her usual calm demeanour.

  'I've no doubt that story is greatly exaggerated, Agnes, and I shan't waste my time believing it until I have heard officially. Willie Bond was always a scaremonger, and I remember that he was always given to tall tales, even as a child.'

  'But I wonder how he came by the story?' wondered Agnes, tapping her boiled egg.

  'Time alone will tell,' responded her headmistress. 'Could you pass the butter, dear?'

  6. A Turbulent Tea Party

  AS Miss Watson had surmised, Willie Bond's tidings were grossly exaggerated, although, even in the modified version, the truth was quite upsetting enough to the inhabitants of Lulling and Thrush Green.

  The Fuchsia Bush, it seemed, was going to be open from 10 a.m. until 2.30 p.m., catering as usual for exhausted shoppers needing morning coffee, and local businessmen and women needing a modest lunch. The premises would then close until 6.30 p.m. when it would offer dinner to those who required it. The time-honoured afternoon tea was now a thing of the past, and regret and acrimony were widely expressed.

  'Never heard such nonsense,' said Ella Bembridge to Winnie Bailey. 'The Fuchsia Bush was always busiest at tea time, and they've got that marvellous girl in the kitchen who knocks up the best scones in the Cotswolds. Why, those alone bring in dozens of travellers between four and five every afternoon.'

  'They say it's a staffing problem,' replied Winnie. 'Evidently they can get part-timers to come in the morning and to cope with the lunches, and more to appear in the evenings when the husbands are home to look after the children.'

  'Well, it's a scandal,' replied Ella, blowing out a cloud of acrid smoke. 'It was just the place to meet after shopping or the dentist, and I must say their Darjeeling tea took some beating. As for trying to compete with The Fleece and The Crown and Anchor for dinners, it's plain idiotic.'

  'Well, Jenny tells me that she knows two women who are going to do the evening stint there, and everyone feels it might work, so we must just wait and see.'

  Miss Watson, proved right yet again, was inclined to be indulgent about the lost tea time at The Fuchsia Bush. In any case, teachers were usually buttoning children's coats, and exhorting them to keep out of trouble on their homeward journeys, at the relevant opening time. As she remarked to little Miss Fogerty:

  'It won't affect us greatly, dear, but I think it is very foolish of these tea shops to close at such a time. American tourists alone must miss experiencing a truly English tea with attentive waitresses in those pretty flowered smocks to serve them.'

  Miss Fogerty, whose purse had seldom allowed her to indulge in even such a modest repast as tea at The Fuchsia Bush, agreed wholeheartedly. She disliked change.

  The Misses Lovelock, whose Georgian house stood close to the premises, were the only ones who seemed to favour the project.

  'We shall have a little peace on summer afternoons now,' said Bertha. Why, I've even seen coaches stop there and drop hordes of people—some of them not quite out of the top drawer—and of course quite a few wandered about while they waited to go in, and one day a most dreadful man, with a squint, pressed his face to our window and very much frightened us all.'

  'Good job it was downstairs,' Ella had remarked. 'Upstairs you might have been in your corsets, or less.'

  Bertha chose to ignore such coarseness. Really, at times one wondered about Ella's upbringing!

  'No,' said Violet, hastening to Bertha's support, 'we shan't mind The Fuchsia Bush closing for teas, whatever the rest of Lulling is saying.'

  'You'll just get the racket later in the day,' observed Ella, stubbing out a cigarette in a priceless Meissen bon-bon dish at her side. 'Be plenty of cars parking, I expect, when they open in the evening.'

  And, happy to have the last word for once, Ella
departed.

  The visit of Miss Watson's brother Ray and his wife occurred about this time. Although little Miss Fogerty was glad to see that Dorothy's sisterly feelings had prompted her to invite Ray and Kathleen to tea after school, nevertheless she had inner forebodings about their reception.

  There was no doubt about it. The unfortunate coolness which had arisen dated from Dorothy's enforced stay in hospital with a broken hip some time before. Agnes, who had been a devoted visitor, realised that Dorothy's assumption that she would be invited to convalesce at Ray's was misplaced, to say the least of it. Luckily, she had been in a position to offer immediate help, and took up residence at the school house to look after the invalid. Dorothy, evergrateful, had reciprocated by asking her old colleague to make her stay a permanent one, and very happily the arrangement had turned out.

  But Ray and Kathleen would never, it seemed, be quite as dear to her headmistress. Agnes could only hope that the proposed tea party would pass off pleasantly, and that bygones would remain bygones.

  It was a perfect early May afternoon. Agnes had taken her little brood for a walk along the track to Lulling Woods, passing Dotty Harmer's house, and waving to that lady as she tended a large and smoky bonfire of garden rubbish near the hedge.

  The grass was dry enough for the children to sit on before they returned, and Agnes leant back against a dry stone wall out of the light wind and admired some early coltsfoot across the track, and some young ferns, curled like sea horses, against the Cotswold stone. The children seemed content to lie on their backs, chewing grass, and gazing at the sky above. It was a well-known fact that little Miss Fogerty had the happy knack of keeping children quiet and contented. The present scene would have proved this to any onlooker.

  Agnes allowed her mind to dwell on the approaching confrontation. Dorothy had made a superb three-tier sponge cake, using five eggs and the best butter, and Agnes herself had cut cucumber sandwiches during the lunch break, and carefully wrapped them to keep fresh. Home-made scones with plum jam, and some delicious chocolate biscuits filled with marshmallow completed the meal provided. It was particularly unselfish of dear Dorothy to add the last ingreclient to their afternoon tea, thought Agnes, as she adored marshmallows but was obliged to resist such temptation in the interest of watching her weight.

  Agnes looked at her watch.

  'Time to be going!' she called, and shepherded her charges back to Thrush Green.

  The two ladies were back in the school house by a quarter to four. Dorothy had changed into a becoming blue jersey two-piece, and Agnes had put on her best silk blouse with her mother's cameo brooch at the neck.

  The tea tray waited in the sitting room, and on a side table were all the festive dishes. Some golden daffodils scented the air, and the ladies waited expectantly. The visitors were due at four o'clock, but at ten past they had not appeared.

  Dorothy began to get restive, wandering to the window to look down the road, and then back to the kitchen to make sure that the kettle was ready. Agnes viewed her growing impatience with some apprehension. Dear Dorothy was a stickler for punctuality.

  'Isn't it extraordinary,' exclaimed her headmistress, 'how people never arrive on time? I mean, if I say between seven and seven-thirty, it's usually a quarter to eight before the bell rings. Why not seven-fifteen? Why not seven, for that matter?'

  Agnes assumed that this was a rhetorical question and forbore to answer.

  The little clock on the mantel piece struck a quarter past four, and Dorothy plumped up a cushion with unnecessary force.

  'Of course, Ray never had any idea of time, nor Kathleen, come to that. Ray was even late for his own wedding, I remember. The whole congregation waiting for the bridegroom! You can imagine! One expects some delay before the bride appears but—'

  She broke off suddenly.

  'Here they are at last! And about time too. Would you switch on the kettle, Agnes dear, while I let them in?'

  Polite kisses were exchanged in the hall, and Miss Watson led the way into the sitting room. No apologies were made for their late arrival, she noticed, although it was now twenty five minutes past the hour, but she decided to ignore the omission. As she had remarked to Agnes, time meant nothing to this pair.

  'And how are you finding The Fleece?' she enquired.

  'Rather run down,' said Ray. Under new management, I gather, and not very competent.'

  At that moment, a ferocious barking broke out, and Agnes, coming in with the tea pot, very nearly dropped it in her alarm.

  The two visitors had rushed to the window, so that Agnes put down the tea pot without being greeted.

  'Oh, poor Harrison!' cried Kathleen. He's seen a horrid cat. So upsetting. We'd better bring him in, Ray.'

  Ray began to make for the door.

  By all means go and calm the dog,' said Dorothy, with a touch of hauteur, 'but I think it would be wise to leave him outside while we enjoy our tea.'

  He always has tea with us,' said Ray. He usually has a saucer on the hearth rug. With plenty of milk, of course.'

  But not today,' replied Dorothy firmly, the complete headmistress. 'Now do say hello to dear Agnes who has been looking forward to seeing you so much.'

  Reminded of their manners, Ray and Kathleen greeted her warmly, and did their best to ignore the persistent whining and yelping issuing from their car. But clearly their minds were elsewhere, and conversation had to be carried on at a high pitch to overcome the appalling din made by the unhappy animal.

  'I take it that the management at The Fleece welcomes animals?' ventured little Miss Fogerty.

  'I wouldn't say welcomes,' said Ray. 'Harrison is being allowed to sleep in his basket in one of the stables. No dogs in the hotel. That's the rule, we were told the minute we arrived.'

  'Why "Harrison"?' asked Dorothy, passing the cucumber sandwiches. Kathleen looked momentarily pleased.

  'Well, you see he is the image of the butcher who used to come round when we were first married. Isn't he, Ray?'

  Exactly. Same brown eyes, same expression—'

  'Same black coat?' murmured Dorothy.

  The visitors laughed politely.

  'Almost,' agreed Kathleen, 'and certainly interested in meat.'

  Agnes, who began to feel that the dog would be better ignored, if such a happy situation should ever be possible with the ear-splitting cacophany engulfing them, asked after Kathleen's health. At once, Ray's wife assumed a melancholy expression.

  I'm having some new treatment for my migraine attacks,' she told them, accepting a second cup of tea.

  'It's terribly expensive, and I have to make two trips a week, but I think it may be doing me good.'

  'I am so glad,' said kind Agnes.

  And I've been having attacks of vertigo,' volunteered Ray, with a hint of pride. 'Something to do with the middle ear. Very disconcerting.'

  Agnes wondered if the dog's powerful voice could contribute to this discomfort, but thought it wiser to remain silent. Not once, she noticed, with rare warmth, had they enquired after poor Dorothy's broken hip—a much more serious business, surely!

  'But there,' continued Kathleen, with sad recognition, 'I suppose we can't expect to be as spry as we were twenty years ago.'

  'Indeed no!' agreed Dorothy, rising to cut the splendid sponge. She walked across to Kathleen, plate in hand. Was her limp rather more pronounced than usual, Agnes wondered? A little stiff from sitting perhaps, she decided.

  'And how is the leg?' enquired Ray, somewhat tardily.

  'I do my best to ignore it,' replied Dorothy. 'No one wants to hear about the troubles of the elderly.'

  Kathleen greeted this pointed remark with a swiftly indrawn breath, and a meaning glance at her husband. He, man-like, pretended to be engrossed with his tea cup.

  'And where are you proposing to go tomorrow?' asked Agnes hastily.

  Before Ray could answer, Kathleen spoke.

  'It's amazing how quickly people get over these hip operations these days. Why, a
young curate we know was actually dancing six months after he fell from his bicycle.'

  'He was fortunate,' said Dorothy.

  'Oh, I don't know,' said Kathleen, shouting above the racket from the imprisoned dog. 'I'm sure it's a matter of attitude of mind. He intended to get better, just as quickly as possible. I think some people enjoy being invalids.'

  Agnes noted with alarm that a pink flush was suffusing Dorothy's face, a sure sign of temper, and really, thought her loyal assistant, she had every right to be cross under the circumstances.

  'I don't,' said Dorothy shortly.

  Of course not,' agreed Ray. 'It was exactly what I said to Kathleen when she was so worried about you in hospital.'

  'Indeed?' replied his sister icily.

  'Kathleen was a martyr to her migraine at the time, as you know, otherwise we should have invited you to stay with us when you were discharged. But we knew you wanted to get home and pick up your normal life again. I said so at the time, didn't I, Kathleen?'

  'You did indeed, dear,' said Kathleen, dabbing her mouth with a spotless linen napkin and leaving lipstick as well as jam upon it.

  Before any civilised reply could be made, there was a rapping at the front door. Agnes, glad to escape, hurried to open it, and was confronted by Dotty Harmer with Flossie on a lead. A battered metal milk can dangled from the other hand.

  Without being invited, Dotty pushed past Agnes and entered the sitting room. She was in a state of considerable agitation, and burst into speech.

  'Oh, Dorothy my dear, there is a poor dog absolutely stifling to death in a car outside. No window left open, and it is in a terrible state of anxiety. Aren't people thoughtless? Really they need a horse-whipping, and my father would have administered it, I assure you, if he had come across such fiends! Someone calling at The Two Pheasants, I suppose, or at the Shoosmiths.'

  'The dog belongs to my brother here,' said Dorothy, with a hint of smugness in her tone. 'I'm sorry it upset you so, Dotty dear. I'm afraid it must have upset a great many people at Thrush Green during the past hour.'