The New Rector (Tales from Turnham Malpas)

by Shaw, Rebecca

  ‘That’s quite enough of that.’ Ralph stood up to assert his authority. ‘Kindly leave us alone.’

  ‘OK, OK. Just giving you some advice, Ralphie.’ She turned away with a flick of her pert bottom.

  Muriel wished the floor would open up and swallow her.

  Ralph ordered, ‘Drink up, we’re leaving.’

  He took her arm and as they reached the door he turned to Mac who was behind the bar and said, loudly enough for everyone to hear: ‘Landlord, that girl who collects the glasses needs her manners attending to. See to it or I shall not patronise your bar again. Good night to you.’

  ‘Ralphie, I don’t know how you dared to speak like that!’

  ‘She was extremely rude.’

  ‘She’s their daughter.’

  ‘I don’t care whose daughter she is, Moo, she was rude to you and to me. It simply won’t do, I’m not accustomed to it. I’ll see you to your cottage and then I’ll be on my way.’

  When they reached her door Muriel daringly suggested he came in for a coffee before he went. She would quite have preferred him to say no but he said yes so she’d no alternative but to open the door and invite him in.

  Pericles growled and barked but Ralph patted him and made a fuss and Pericles allowed him in. He wasn’t used to male company and felt Muriel needed defending.

  They sat drinking coffee and talking until nearly midnight. Ralph had such an easy way with him, and to her surprise Muriel found herself to be quite an interesting person.

  As he left Ralph said, ‘I’m renting Derek and Bunny’s cottage for six months, possibly a year, while they’re in South Africa. They leave on Tuesday and I’m moving in on Thursday. Perhaps you would be so kind as to have a meal with me one evening when I get settled?’

  ‘I should like that, thank you.’

  ‘Good. Moo, be very careful of that girl Sharon. There’s something not quite right about her.’

  ‘Sharon McDonald? She’s very rude and outspoken, but she’s all right really.’

  ‘You’re too kind. Just mark my words.’ Ralph took both her hands and very tentatively kissed her on her lips.

  ‘Good night, my dear. You are one of the few real ladies left in this world, do you know that?’

  Muriel closed the door and stood with her back leaning on it. She felt the same thrill that a girl in her teens would have felt at her first kiss. She’d been kissed in Postman’s Knock at Sunday School parties in her early teens but never by a grown man. Now she felt she knew something at least of what that kiss she’d witnessed between Harriet and Jimbo must have felt like. Well, just a little maybe, because Ralph’s hadn’t lasted very long.

  She put an extra dash of oil in before she stepped into her bath – frankincense she chose, to help her sleep. The light from the night sky lit the bathroom and she imagined what it would be like visiting Rome with Ralph. Katharine Hepburn had had that fabulous holiday in – Venice, was it? – when she met that two-timing Italian in that film, Summer Madness. Katharine Hepburn had had a wonderful awakening. Muriel could see herself standing by the Trevi Fountain with a chiffon scarf around her throat, the ends blowing about in the summer breeze, and Ralph handing her coins to throw in and her wishing, like you should, that this moment would never end … but end it would, and they’d have to go back to the hotel. Abruptly Muriel sat up and began vigorously scrubbing herself with the loofah. Got to get to bed, work to do tomorrow.

  On the Wednesday before the Thursday that Ralph moved into number three, Muriel was sitting at her ‘seat of custom’ as she jokingly called it in her mind. She’d not been very busy but then it was market day in Culworth. She was contemplating asking Jimbo to run off a few new menus, as some of the ones in use at the moment were beginning to look tatty and she did like to have nice clean menus for everybody, when the door opened and in walked Sharon. Did she never work? Muriel thought to herself.

  The girl was wearing her usual high heels and skin-tight short skirt. She trotted over to a table. Her peroxided hair had taken on an orange tinge and she wore lipstick and blusher to match. Her Walkman was plugged into her ears.

  ‘Hello, Miss Hipkin. A coffee and a slice of chocolate gâteau if you please.’

  Muriel did hope Sharon wouldn’t be rude while she was in the tearoom; if she was, she’d send the YTS girl for Jimbo. But Sharon sat quietly, reading her magazine and listening to her music. Muriel busied herself checking her bills and sorting out which menus she would throw away. She contemplated going to find Jimbo to get him to do them, but decided she wouldn’t leave Sharon on her own – for you never knew. There was a lovely smell of burning wood in the air, she noticed.

  Muriel had just shown three customers to a table and settled them with a menu when Sharon shouted: ‘Oh, look, Miss Hipkin! There’s smoke.’

  Muriel looked out of the window cautiously; she anticipated that Sharon was playing a joke on her. But sure enough there was smoke billowing into the sky. They must be having a bonfire, though it seemed the wrong time of year.

  Sharon leapt to her feet. ‘I’m off to see where it is. Get ready to phone the fire brigade.’

  She dropped her Walkman on the table and rushed out towards The Royal Oak. Muriel could see her standing in Stocks Row looking up behind the pub.

  She came racing back. ‘Ring the fire brigade! It’s one of the cottages belonging to them London people. It’s got a right hold. Hurry up!’

  ‘Oh dear, what do I say?’ Muriel dropped the phone in her agitation.

  ‘Here, give it to me.’ Sharon dialled 999 and asked for Fire. She gave the address and explained what had happened. ‘Cool and calm in a crisis’ were the words which sprang to Muriel’s mind. How glad she was, that Sharon had been there. She would have been incoherent if she’d had to phone.

  Sharon rushed out again and went round warning everyone. It seemed an age until the fire brigade actually arrived. Someone had rigged a hose up and was trying to wet the thatch to stop the roof burning. Mac and Betty came out to help, as the cottage was very close to the back of the pub and they didn’t want their thatch on fire as well. Jimbo hastened across to give a hand. Muriel stayed in charge in the tearoom, thankful for an excuse to keep out of the way. The water from the fire-brigade hydrant soon put the fire out. It was only then that Muriel realised it was the cottage Ralphie had hoped to move into the next day. Then the police came to investigate and the tearoom was kept busy with teas and toasted teacakes and soup for the Press, the firemen and the police. All on the house, of course, for in his inimitable way, Jimbo knew free publicity when he saw it.

  Sharon, of course, was the heroine of the hour. Muriel spoke highly of her, saying how calm and level-headed she had been and how well she had explained to the fire brigade about the location of the cottage.

  The fire meant that for a while Ralph had nowhere to stay. Caroline suggested that he didn’t go back to the hotel but stayed with her until the cottage was sorted out. He jumped at the chance.

  ‘How very kind of you to invite me. I shall be delighted. I’ll try to be a model guest, and keep well out of your way.’

  ‘We shall enjoy your company, won’t we, Peter?’

  ‘We shall indeed. Bring your things round tomorrow morning as you’ve planned, but move in here instead of the cottage. We’ve plenty of room if you need to store anything, haven’t we, Caroline?’

  ‘Acres. Anyway, I intended inviting you to dinner on Saturday night, as we’re having a few friends in, so you’ll be on the spot so to speak.’

  ‘It’s extremely kind of you. I do appreciate it.’

  ‘I hope you like cats, because I’ve got three Siamese.’

  ‘That’s fine, I like animals. Never had a chance to have any of my own with moving around such a lot, but when I get settled I shall have at least three cats and a dog.’

  ‘A poodle perhaps?’ Caroline’s smile was wicked and Ralph had to acknowledge it.

  ‘You never know.’ He smiled gently, turned on his heel an
d thereby terminated the conversation.

  Peter was outraged. ‘Caroline, you take the biscuit for absolute cheek!’

  ‘It was only a bit of fun. I’ve decided I’m inviting Suzy to our dinner party.’

  ‘Suzy?’ There was a pause.

  ‘I know you might find it difficult but it won’t be half as difficult as I shall find it. If I leave her out, tongues might wag. If I invite her I shall have a devil of an evening, but I can’t do otherwise. I’ll invite Michael Palmer as well, then she’ll have a man to partner her. You don’t think they might …’

  ‘Caroline, between you, you and Harriet Charter-Plackett ought to be running a marriage bureau.’

  ‘It’s only kindly interest. Do the police know how the fire started?’

  ‘They assume it was faulty wiring but they haven’t had time to be sure. I expect these old houses have had bits of wiring done here and there over the years and most of them could do with a complete fresh start.’

  It wasn’t until she was in bed that night that Muriel remembered Sharon hadn’t paid for her coffee and chocolate gâteau. Well, in the circumstances, Muriel couldn’t really remind her about it. She’d have to put it down to experience.

  Chapter 17

  ‘Good evening, Michael. Come in, please. Have you met Sir Ralph Templeton?’ Peter was greeting his guests whilst Caroline was performing miracles in the kitchen with the food Jimbo had organised for her.

  ‘I haven’t had the pleasure. Good evening.’

  Michael Palmer shook hands with Ralph, then followed the two men into the sitting room. Jimbo and Harriet were already there with drinks in their hands. ‘Hello, Michael. How are you? Glad the school holidays have started?’

  ‘Not really, Jimbo, no. I love school. There isn’t another job in all the world I would rather do. I know people think that being a schoolmaster is some sort of soft option and a skive, but it is the most interesting and rewarding work anyone could hope to do.’

  ‘I don’t know how you cope with our little lot.’

  ‘Your little lot as you call them are very very bright, well behaved and a great challenge. They keep me on my toes.’

  ‘That’s nice to know.’ Jimbo turned and laughed at Harriet who raised her glass to Michael and dropped him a mock curtsy. ‘Harriet will live on that recommendation for about a fortnight.’

  ‘Jimbo, that will do.’

  Caroline appeared, trying not to look too flustered. She loved dinner parties but worried herself to death about how they were going to work out.

  The doorbell went and Caroline answered it. On the doorstep stood Suzy. She was wearing a pale lavender dress with a scarf of a deeper shade draped across her shoulders. Her long blonde hair was brushed back and held up in a comb on the top of her head.

  She smiled nervously at Caroline. ‘Thank you for asking me.’ Suzy spoke in a soft voice so no one else would hear.

  ‘Thank you for coming, you look lovely.’

  Caroline slipped her arm through Suzy’s and drew her into the sitting room. ‘Here we are, everybody, Suzy’s arrived. You know everyone, of course, except Sir Ralph. Ralph, this is Suzy Meadows our next-door-but-one neighbour.’

  ‘How do you do.’

  Peter stepped forward and asked as naturally as he could what she would like to drink.

  ‘Orange juice, thank you. No alcohol.’

  As he handed the glass to her he caught her eye and smiled cautiously. Suzy looked up at him and gave that Madonna smile which had so captivated him. ‘Thank you, Peter.’

  In order to make conversation with someone he had never met before, Ralph innocently asked whether her husband would be coming along later, or was he abroad or something?

  There was a brief silence and then Suzy answered steadily: ‘No, my husband has died. To add to my troubles he left me expecting this baby – or should I say babies.’

  ‘I’m so sorry. I had no idea.’

  ‘Please don’t be upset – I’m not. He’s dead and gone and I’ve the future to think about. He wouldn’t have wanted anyone to feel sorry he’d died, would he, Peter?’

  ‘I didn’t know him, Suzy.’

  ‘No, of course not. He never took part in village life. The only good he did with his life was to give me thr— five children. Being a nuclear scientist isn’t exactly commendable, is it? I understand you’re wanting to settle in the village, Sir Ralph?’

  ‘Yes. I’m staying with Caroline and Peter at the moment because I was to have moved into number three behind the pub, but it caught fire, as you know.’

  ‘Oh yes, of course. It doesn’t look too serious.’

  ‘No, fortunately it isn’t. Sharon McDonald spotted it before it got too much of a hold.’

  At that moment Muriel arrived. She was late, breathless, and very tense. She was wearing a slim-fitting black dress, long-sleeved with pearls filling in the neckline.

  ‘Why, good evening, Muriel. How absolutely charming you look!’ Peter drew her into the circle and offered her a drink.

  ‘A sherry, please. Sweet, if I may.’

  Ralph took it across to her. As he put the glass into her hand he smiled and said, ‘You look lovely.’

  Harriet and Caroline winked at each other.

  When they sat down for their meal Caroline put Michael between herself and Suzy. Though she was feeling desperate about Suzy, she made the greatest possible effort to be a hospitable hostess.

  Jimbo came up with an idea for Ralph’s consideration.

  ‘I’ve just had a thought. Toria Clark’s house must be coming up for sale soon, Ralph. It would be a good buy if you like it.’

  ‘Where is that?’

  ‘Next door to here.’

  ‘Why ever didn’t we think of that? Of course – what a good idea!’ Caroline exclaimed.

  ‘Where is Toria Clark going to live?’

  Jimbo cleared his throat. ‘She isn’t. She was found dead a few weeks ago, the night of Stocks Day to be exact. Her house must be going to be sold, I would have thought.’

  Harriet, finishing the last of her soup, put down her spoon and gave Ralph a résumé of the accommodation.

  ‘It sounds ideal,’ he responded. ‘A little on the large side, but then I don’t like poky little rooms. Would I be able to have an open fire?’

  ‘Well, Toria had a wood-burning stove so I suppose yes, you could have an open fire. Have you ever been inside it, Muriel?’

  ‘No, never.’

  ‘It’s very nice.’

  ‘Stop playing estate agent, Harriet, and let Ralph make up his own mind.’

  ‘Jimbo, you’re bossing me again.’

  Jimbo apologised and they all laughed.

  Muriel was having the greatest difficulty in enjoying herself. Being actually partnered with Ralph made her very self-conscious. This dress she’d bought was so slim-fitting that in fact it was almost tight, and it showed every inch of her figure. She hardly dare bend over to eat because she felt sure the dress would drop forward and reveal her cleavage. She caught Ralph smiling at her and she went bright red. To cover her embarrassment she took a deep drink of her wine and within a few minutes was feeling quite light-headed. Ralph asked her a question and her words slurred as she answered.

  She was one of the first to leave, excusing herself on the grounds that Pericles would be needing to go out. Ralph offered to escort her to her door.

  ‘Oh no, thank you, don’t come out. I can manage quite well. Please, no thank you.’

  ‘Of course I shall, It’s very dark with there being no street lighting. I couldn’t possibly let you go by yourself at this time of night.’

  He stood up and, taking her elbow, guided her towards Caroline. Muriel kissed her hostess and thanked her confusedly for a lovely evening.

  ‘Not at all, Muriel. I’m glad you could come. See you in a minute, Ralph.’

  After the pair had gone, the rest all looked at one another and speculated about them.

  Ralph held tightly to Muriel�
�s arm as they picked their way along the path.

  ‘Moo, you’ve got some very nice friends.’

  ‘They are, aren’t they, Ralph? I’m very lucky.’

  ‘Have you thought that they are lucky, too, having you as a friend?’

  ‘They give me far more than I give them.’ She put her key in the door, and out of politeness offered Ralph a drink before he went back. The lateness of the hour had persuaded her he would refuse but he accepted. He followed her into the kitchen and helped her fill the kettle and get out the cups. Muriel felt invaded. Her very own space was being taken over. She’d created a safe world, a place for everything and everything in its place, and now here was this masculine person touching her very own belongings. It was an effrontery. Her natural graciousness held her back from being rude and asking him to go, but it was all very disturbing. She’d have to wash all the kitchen things tomorrow, to make them all hers again.

  ‘Moo, sit here. Here’s your cup.’ They chatted for a while about Toria’s house and whether Ralph would like it or not and then out of the blue he asked her a question.

  ‘Have you enjoyed yourself tonight?’

  ‘Yes, thank you.’

  ‘I thought you seemed ill at ease.’

  ‘No, I wasn’t.’

  ‘Is it me? Am I crowding you too much?’

  ‘No, it’s not that at all.’

  ‘What is it then?’

  ‘I haven’t had a real friend since I was a girl. I’ve known people well but not had friends, and there is a difference, isn’t there? Mother never encouraged me to make friends, always afraid they would take me off somewhere and I wouldn’t be there to look after her, I suppose. Your coming back has mixed me up.’

  ‘I hope it’s a nice mix-up? I know at our age we can’t expect to have rich passionate relationships like one does when young, but there’s no reason why one can’t be happy together, is there?’

  ‘No, I enjoy your company.’

  ‘Good, because you won’t get rid of me easily.’

  Ralph stood up and pulled Muriel to her feet. ‘I’ll say good night now and leave you to go to bed. You must be tired. I have to say that you were the smartest lady there tonight. Good night, Moo.’ Ralph put his hands on her shoulders and very gently kissed her lips. She stood, arms by her sides, not responding.