The New Rector (Tales from Turnham Malpas)

by Shaw, Rebecca

  ‘Do as I say. Get out of my bed this instant!’

  ‘Don’t waste your breath coming the schoolmaster with me. You want me, so for once in your life let go and enjoy yourself. I don’t kiss and tell and I’m panting for you. Come on.’

  ‘Absolutely not. Get out.’

  ‘Well, in that case you can be cold all night because I’ve got cosy. Good night. If you feel in need of a cuddle, climb in any time.’

  Defeated and unable to get her out without dragging her out – which would give her the chance she wanted – Michael went downstairs. He found an eiderdown and wrapped himself up on the sofa. What a blithering idiot he’d been. He should never have let her in in the first place. She’d totally deceived him. Her acting abilities merited an audition with the RSC. He woke a couple of hours later needing to go to the bathroom, and saw that the spare bedroom door was open and Sharon’s case had gone. Oh God, had she moved into his bedroom – surely not? But she hadn’t, she’d disappeared. Thank heavens for that. At least no one would know what a fool he’d been. And he had been right all along – she was sly.

  All that boasting about knowing about sex, a girl her age! On the other hand, she’d been in Culworth very late at night and seen Stella there; she’d already threatened him with that. From the back of his mind pieces of a puzzle began coming together. Pieces were missing and he could be wrong, yes of course he must be wrong, unless it was that Toria Clark had found someone writing the pos … That was it! Sharon had been writing the poster to leave in the school, and had been interrupted by Toria Clark. But Sharon wouldn’t kill someone, would she? How could she? She was a village girl who’d gone to school there, grown up there … No. No. No! But it fitted. Sharon was the only one who knew about Stella being lesbian. It was Sharon who’d driven Stella to suicide with her threats of exposure. The poster referred to Stella, not to Toria Clark. That was the mistake they’d all made. They’d all thought the poster meant Toria. He’d have to tell the police what he thought, and a right fool they’d all take him for. He wouldn’t be able to hold his head up any more; he’d have to resign. Would he need to tell the police that Sharon had stayed there all night? He could say he’d been thinking things over and had decided to tell them what he knew.

  Betty and Mac went to the police the following day.

  ‘Our Sharon’s missing.’

  ‘How old is she now, Betty?’

  ‘Nineteen.’

  ‘Well, she can do as she likes, you know. It’s no crime at nineteen not to come home one night.’

  ‘Look, Sergeant, me and our Sharon have had our differences but she’d no money with her when she went – we’ve found her purse in her bedroom. She was only doing it to frighten me. She didn’t intend going any distance at all. You’ve got to do something for us, Sergeant, no messing.’

  ‘I’ll make some enquiries in the village and see what I come up with. But if she’s decided to leave I can’t bring her back.’

  ‘She’s always led such a sheltered life. I won’t let her go to these all-night parties or anything like that. We’ve always been so careful with her, haven’t we, Mac?’

  ‘Yes. Well, fairly careful.’

  The sergeant questioned everyone in the village. The row in the bar came to light and also another factor which caused the sergeant’s pen to hesitate for a moment as he took notes.

  ‘You saw her going inside?’

  ‘Oh yes, Sergeant. He opened the door and he closed it behind her. I saw him with my own eyes.’

  ‘This is very serious, you know. Mr Palmer is a well-respected gentleman in this village, so you’ll have to be very careful about this. Are you absolutely certain it was Sharon McDonald?’

  Pat Duckett nodded her head in agreement. ‘Who could miss that cheeky backside and those sticking-out boobs of hers? And I couldn’t be mistaken about the house, could I? It’s the only one in the school playground. It was only because I was going out for a drink and knew I’d left my purse in the school kitchen that I happened to be there. I thought, “the dirty old man,” so I did.’

  ‘That’s enough, Pat. Nothing’s been proved about anything. Keep mum about this; you might be needed to give evidence and if I hear you’ve been spreading this story around I might remember about that shoplifting your Dean’s been getting up to in Culworth. Remember that.’

  Muriel went into school the following day at her usual time. The atmosphere was tense. Suzy came out of the playgroup room and told her that Mr Palmer was helping police with their enquiries so Mrs Hardaker the new teacher would be taking the children for singing and she and Liz Neal were going to keep an eye on the children in the playground for her.

  ‘Helping the police with their enquiries? Whatever do you mean?’

  ‘I’m not quite sure, but the poor man has not been himself for a day or two and now he’s at the police station in Culworth. Also, Sharon McDonald’s gone missing.’

  ‘Oh dear, whatever next is going to happen in this village? When I was a girl nothing happened, apart from Jimmy Glover’s father being caught poaching and someone once setting fire to a farmer’s hayrick when they were up to naughty things with a girl. Well, I never.’

  She told Ralph about what had happened when he collected her to go into Culworth for some shopping for his house, and asked him what he thought.

  ‘I never cease to be amazed at what goes on in this village now. Do you suppose it all happened before and we were too young to hear about it?’

  ‘I don’t know, but I can only think it’s all connected with his wife’s death, and Toria Clark’s murder and Sharon’s disappearance. Where shall we go for lunch?’

  ‘I do believe you’re beginning to enjoy all this tripping about we do.’

  ‘I am. It’s opened up a whole new side of my nature.’

  ‘I haven’t decided yet. Where do you fancy?’

  ‘I don’t mind. Somewhere quiet where we won’t meet anyone and we can talk.’

  ‘So be it.’

  Ralph chose the restaurant by the River Cul where they’d first had lunch together. They’d reached the coffee and liqueur stage when Ralph cleared his throat and began to speak. Muriel, enjoying her After Eight mint – she never could resist them – brought her head up with a jerk when she realised what Ralph was saying.

  ‘I know we can’t expect to have a mad passionate affair, but why should the two of us live, one in one house and one in another, when we could share so much?’

  ‘Why can’t we have a mad passionate affair?’

  ‘Moo, my dear!’

  ‘Why should we miss out on it because we’re older? We’d appreciate it a lot more than when we were younger, wouldn’t we? We’d be so grateful to have the opportunity. In fact, you can kiss me now in front of everybody.’

  ‘It hardly seems the place to be kissing.’

  ‘I’m feeling daring. All my life I’ve held back, been too quiet, not said what I felt, let everyone else have all the fun and it’s time I came out of my shell. It’s like you said, I’ve been fending people off and not letting them get near. All these old fuddy duddies will be jealous of me. You’re such a handsome man, Ralph. I’d be proud for you to kiss me.’

  They neither of them noticed the scandalised looks they got from the other diners. Ralph’s hands were trembling as he signed the credit card voucher and Muriel, hiding in the Ladies from this new person she had become, could hardly control her hand long enough to renew her lipstick. Ralph took her to a department store and insisted on buying her some new perfume. She dillied and dallied choosing first one and then another till she couldn’t distinguish which perfume she liked the best. Finally Ralph chose on her behalf – Obsession, the largest bottle he could find. He then marched her purposefully towards a jeweller’s.

  ‘I’m buying you a necklace. Don’t argue, I am.’

  They emerged after an hour with Muriel carrying a box in which was laid a beautiful pendant of garnets and seed pearls on a long gold chain. They went back to Turn
ham Malpas without the furniture they had gone for.

  Ralph made afternoon tea for them both, and they sat together on his sofa holding hands. ‘Put your necklace on, Moo.’

  ‘It’s much too good for everyday.’

  ‘No, wear it now – I want to see it on.’

  He helped her with the clasp and kissed her throat before leaning back to see the effect. ‘Excellent! It looks lovely.’

  ‘My only regret is that I am not young and beautiful, Ralphie. I never have been, come to think of it. I’ve always been Plain Jane all my life, even as a young woman.’

  ‘I’m not exactly an Adonis, am I? You wouldn’t give me a second look if you were as young and beautiful as you would like to be. Oh, I’m so sorry, that didn’t come out very well. I do beg your pardon.’ They both laughed and Muriel caught hold of his hands and held them to her chest.

  ‘That’s what’s nice about us. We can laugh, can’t we?’

  ‘Oh, my dear.’ Ralph took her in his arms and they kissed as they had never kissed before. They fitted like a glove. Ralph’s fingers traced the line of her collar bone and then the line of her jaw and he kissed her ear and then her forehead and then her mouth again. He began to undo the buttons of her blouse. She very nearly protested but didn’t. Modesty had got her nowhere in the past and it seemed right for Ralph to do as he did.

  He suddenly said, ‘We must stop.’ He rebuttoned her blouse and stood up. ‘I must be absolutely truthful with you, Moo. It pains me to say it, but I do not come to this relationship as pure as you do.’

  ‘I thought not.’

  ‘I felt you should know. I’ve got to be quite open about it to you. I don’t mean I had frequent casual one-night stands, but there have been others. Not that I am asking for a serious relationship with you.’

  Her eyes began filling up with tears. ‘I can’t understand what you mean, Ralphie.’

  ‘I mean, I’m not going to expect a sexual relationship with you, Moo. I want something better than that.’

  ‘Oh. I thought you meant you didn’t – you wouldn’t be seeing me …’

  ‘When the time is right I shall ask you to marry me.’

  ‘Oh, I see.’

  ‘I’ll see you to your door.’

  ‘No, don’t do that. The village is gossiping quite enough about us as it is and it’s not dark yet. Pericles will be needing a walk.’

  Marriage. Heavens above. And she wouldn’t be plain Mrs Templeton, she’d be Lady Templeton. She couldn’t marry him – could she? Whoever heard of a solicitor’s secretary becoming a titled person? It was perfectly ridiculous. It wasn’t five minutes since she’d been promising herself no SEX and yet today she’d been saying, ‘Why can’t we have a mad passionate affair?’ What had come over her?

  Ralph was so generous, beyond anything she had imagined. Maybe that was part of the attraction – maybe she wanted financial security. That was it, she liked him because he could provide her with the things she had never had. She wouldn’t accept anything more from him and next time they went out it would be her treat. No more kissing and holding hands and gifts, strictly platonic till she’d had time to sort her feelings out. Play it cool, as the Americans would say.

  Chapter 21

  Michael Palmer was allowed home by the police. He asked for leave of absence from school and the Office agreed that it would be for the best. He’d explained all he could when he was questioned; what hurt most was having to let Stella down by telling them about her secret life. He told them about the threats which Sharon had made and how she had duped him by pretending her mother had treated her so badly. He felt as if his whole life had been laid bare to satisfy his interviewers’ insatiable appetite. Finally they could hold him no longer, but he knew they would be keeping a close eye on his movements. The police also had another problem in Turnham Malpas. From being a sleepy, well-regulated village carrying on its life as it had done for centuries, it had become a thorn in their flesh. Peter had discovered that some items of the church silver plate had been stolen. It happened the night Sharon went missing.

  Willie, ever mindful of the need for security, always locked the Communion paraphernalia away immediately after use. They didn’t have a safe as such but he had a very strong cupboard bolted to the wall with thick doors and a stout lock. In the past that had been all that was needed. Peter had spoken of buying a safe for the valuables but had decided the expenditure was not possible. The village sergeant sighed at the prospect of yet another problem on his patch. The beautiful eighteenth-century chalices had been given by the Lord of the Manor at the time, a Sir Tristan Templeton, in memory of his wife and daughters who had drowned on board a ship which had gone down in the Channel in a violent storm. The vessels had been in constant use for two hundred years.

  ‘Whoever took them, Sergeant, cannot have realised that if they tried to sell them they would be instantly recognised. It was an amateur for certain.’

  ‘Not necessarily, sir. Organised crime can find outlets abroad for items like Eucharist chalices. You know the story – “Church short of funds must sell to survive” kind of thing and they were beautiful. Some families have been taking Communion from those chalices for generations. The whole village is very upset.’

  The habitués in The Royal Oak concluded that no good would come of it.

  ‘Stealing from the church, how could anybody do it? Talk about the wrath of God, it’s a wonder they weren’t struck dead as they forced the cupboard open.’

  ‘Believe you me, Willie, whoever’s took ’em will come to no good. Their lives’ll be blighted. Might not happen this week or this year, but as sure as I sit ’ere they’ll have a bad end.’

  Jimmy leant closer towards Pat and Willie, checked Betty wasn’t within earshot and whispered, ‘I reckon it’s that Sharon, night she disappeared.’

  Pat agreed. ‘Bad lot, she is. I haven’t told a living soul but if you promise me not to breathe a word I’ll tell you what I saw the night ’er and Betty ’ad that row in here.’

  ‘Go on, then. We won’t split, will we, Jimmy?’

  ‘Definitely not.’

  Pat took a long drink of her lager, settled her bottom more securely on her stool and told them what she’d said to the police.

  Willie shook his head. ‘I don’t believe it, Pat. Mr Palmer’s a gentleman. He wouldn’t have that Sharon calling at his house like that. He’s not that kind.’

  ‘You calling me a liar?’

  ‘No, I’m just saying you’re mistaken.’

  ‘I’m not. Is there anyone else roundabouts who looks like Sharon? How many houses is there in the schoolyard? One – and that’s Mr Palmer’s.’

  ‘Let’s face it, he must have been the last to see her, that’s why the police have been questioning him.’

  ‘Exactly, Jimmy. Exactly.’

  Betty strode across. ‘Finished with your glasses, ’ave yer, and yer tittle tattle? Pity you ’aven’t got something else to talk about. I can see the glances yer keep giving me, making sure I can’t hear yer. Yer ought to be feeling sorry for Mac and me with all the worry we have with our Sharon missing, not gossiping about us.’

  Willie stood up. ‘Right, that’s it. I’m coming in here no more. If I can’t talk about what I like when I’m having a quiet pint with me friends then I’m off. You’re an interfering old buzzard you are, Betty. I’ve drunk in this pub for forty years and more but I’ve reached the end of me tether. Good night, Pat. Good night, Jimmy.’

  Betty was incensed. ‘That’s right, cut yer nose off to spite yer face. Now where will you go?’

  ‘I shall cycle down to Penny Fawcett and drink in The Jug and Bottle. Landlady’s a sight more welcoming there than you are, or so I’m told.’

  ‘If yer ’ad a tandem I’d come with yer, Willie.’

  ‘Well, I haven’t, Jimmy, so yer can’t.’

  Peter was very distressed by the theft of the chalices.

  ‘If only I’d bought the safe!’

  ‘Well, y
ou didn’t because the finance wasn’t there so you can hardly be blamed.’

  ‘I shall buy a safe myself, Caroline, and the Church can pay me back when they can manage it. These treasures are priceless in the life of a small parish like this one. They belong not only to the Church but the parishioners as well, simply because their families have used them for so long. Think how you must feel if you can take Communion knowing that your grandfather, your great-grandfather and your great-great-grandfather and further back than that in some cases, have all drunk from the same chalice. I can never forgive myself.’

  ‘Maybe a dealer will be offered them and he’ll contact the police.’

  ‘Let’s hope so. I must get on, there’s a thousand and one things to be done this week.’

  ‘Is there anything I can help you with, now I’m not working?’

  ‘Are you enjoying your freedom?’

  ‘Yes. My mind is obsessed with the twins. I can’t think about anything else. If it’s two boys, what about Thomas and Joshua? If it’s two girls, what about Elizabeth and Sarah? If it’s one of each what about Thomas Joshua and Elizabeth Sarah?’

  ‘Don’t build up your hopes too much, Caroline. I can hardly dare to think about it. I expect all prospective parents get the shivers sometimes worrying about whether the baby will be all right, and that’s the phase I’m going through at the moment.’

  ‘Peter, you mustn’t. I know in my heart of hearts that this will all come right.’ There was a loud knocking on the door. ‘I’ll answer it, it sounds like Willie knocking. Hello, Willie, the rector’s in his study. Come on in.’

  ‘Mrs Harris, the police is here. They’ve found the chalices. Can the rector come, please?’

  ‘Thought it was a bomb, sir, they did – as if they’d plant a bomb on Culworth Station. Got the bomb squad in and found it was our chalices. You’ve to formally identify ’em, they say.’

  ‘I would think you’d be better at that than me, Willie. You’ve been familiar with them a lot longer than I have.’

  ‘Never mind that, sir. You’re the official person as yer might say.’