The New Rector (Tales from Turnham Malpas)

by Shaw, Rebecca

  Chapter 24

  A few days later, Caroline called in at St Thomas à Becket.

  ‘Willie, are you there?’

  ‘Yes, Dr Harris, I am.’

  ‘Ah, Willie, have you found my gloves yet?’

  ‘Picked them up this morning. You’d left them in the vestry when you were waiting for the rector to finish. I’ll get them for you.’ Willie’s cassock beat a rhythmic tattoo as he strode briskly down the aisle into the vestry.

  ‘Here we are, Doctor. Safe and sound.’

  ‘Thank you, they are my favourite pair.’

  ‘Will you be having the twins home for Christmas, do you think?’

  ‘Well, I think it’s going to be after Christmas now. They’ve been slow at putting weight on and the hospital want to be sure they’re thriving before I get them home. Inexperienced as I am, I’m quite glad in a way, though the rector would have loved to have them home for Christmas, whatever weight they were.’

  ‘Never mind, you have the rest of their lives to enjoy them. By this time next year they’ll be running around and wearing you out!’

  ‘Heavens, Willie, of course you’re quite right, they will be!’

  As Caroline headed for the door she saw Muriel polishing the brasses.

  ‘Hello, Muriel. Soon be Christmas. Have you got your Christmas shopping done?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I’m off to the hospital this afternoon to sit with the twins and give them their feed. I’m getting quite nervous about looking after them all by myself. Still, I can’t wait to get them home.’

  Muriel sat back on her heels and looked up at Caroline. ‘You’ve taken hold of life and got on with it, haven’t you?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘You knew those babies were Peter’s, didn’t you, and yet you decided to take them into your home for his sake.’

  Caroline sat down with a thump on the pew nearest to Muriel.

  ‘I realised you’d guessed when you saw them in the hospital. I love Peter more than life itself. It took a great deal of agonising on my part before I could cope with what had happened, and then when I got the idea of adopting the twins it seemed to put everything right.’

  ‘That takes courage and that’s what I haven’t got.’

  ‘What do you mean? Is there something the matter?’

  Muriel put down her dusters and sat on the pew next to Caroline. ‘Have you noticed that Ralph isn’t home at the moment?’

  ‘No, I hadn’t. Where’s he gone?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ Muriel got out her handkerchief, blew her nose and took a deep breath. ‘You see, he asked me to marry him and I said no. I didn’t even say I would think about it. I said no. Unequivocally, no.’

  ‘Ah, and now you wish you’d said yes?’

  ‘No, well, I don’t know! He’s gone away and won’t be back until after Christmas. He put a note through my door. I ran round to his house but he’d already gone, so I couldn’t even say goodbye or anything.’

  ‘Oh, Muriel, he must have been very upset.’

  ‘He was. You see, I made the excuse that I’m perfectly satisifed with my life as it is. Now he’s gone I’m not so sure.’

  ‘It’s being actually married that’s your problem, isn’t it?’

  ‘To be honest, yes. I’ve been a spinster for sixty-four years. It’s such an invasion of one’s privacy sharing a house and a … a bed.’

  ‘I’m sure that such a well-travelled man has had plenty of experience. I’m absolutely certain that Ralph would be the most wonderfully considerate lover.’

  ‘Lover? Oh dear. Oh dear.’ Muriel got out her handkerchief and blew her nose again to cover her confusion.

  ‘Isn’t that what you mean?’

  ‘Yes, I suppose so. It’s a big step, isn’t it, at my age? He has had experience – he’s told me that.’

  ‘Well, there you are, then – and being married to him would make your life so exciting. All that foreign travel and that nice house he’s bought and all his money. You would have a wonderful life, so rich and full. Think hard about your decision, Muriel. Life can be very lonely in old age.’

  ‘It’s lonely now with him away. He may never ask me again.’

  ‘Perhaps you’ll have to orchestrate that yourself.’ Caroline stood up, patted Muriel’s hand and bent over and kissed her. ‘Come for dinner on Christmas Day. It may be my last dignified Christmas dinner for years – thank goodness!’

  *

  When Caroline got back to the Rectory she found Peter checking his action list for the midnight service.

  ‘Peter, I feel as if I have lived a thousand years since last Christmas.’

  ‘We have come a long way since then. Are you happy, my darling girl?’

  ‘I am indeed. I thought I would miss being a doctor but I don’t. I simply can’t wait for the twins to come home.’

  Peter reached his hand out towards her and pulled her on to his knee. ‘This Christmas Service is going to be the best they’ve ever had. Ralph has bought all the boys new surplices and Sheila Bissett has massive plans for decorating the church and Mrs Peel is practising like mad for the big day. Things have improved, haven’t they?’

  ‘They have and all thanks to you. I’ve invited Muriel for dinner on Christmas Day. Ralph has gone off into the wild blue yonder and won’t be back until after Christmas and Muriel’s upset because she’s to blame.’

  ‘Why, what’s Muriel done?’

  ‘Refused to marry him.’

  ‘Oh dear, what a lot she’s missing.’

  ‘That’s what I told her.’

  Muriel was getting ready for the Christmas Eve service in the church. There’d been rather a lot of secret meetings and enigmatic smiles from people about this service but she’d been so obsessed by the dilemma of Ralph and his disappearance that she’d been too self-absorbed to take much notice. She did know that Peter had completely transformed the whole concept of the midnight service and she was looking forward to it. Last Christmas Eve she’d been getting ready to listen to one of Mr Furbank’s lacklustre sermons. Well, she didn’t think they were at the time but when she looked back she had to admit that was exactly what they were. Heavens above, if she’d married Mr Furbank, oh dear, oh dear, what a tepid life she would have lived!

  She got out her new coat: a warm wine red, with a thick black fur collar and a matching black fur hat. Not real fur, of course, she wouldn’t have liked that. Her new black court shoes pinched a little but they would soon get better when she’d worn them a few times. Her pride was the beautiful black leather handbag Ralph had brought her back from London. It had clasps and pockets and zips all over the place and in it she put a clean handkerchief and her purse. She drew on her new black leather gloves. When she looked at herself in the mirror she wished Ralph had been coming to collect her and they could have walked to the church together and sat side by side and had Christmas dinner to look forward to. She’d had long days and nights to think about her decision. She was much nearer saying yes than she had been when he’d first proposed, but now of course she had missed her chance. Sometimes she had to admit she stood back from life far too much and she ought to grasp chances with both hands. Maybe that dreadful Ronald Bissett was right. She realised she was ready about half an hour too soon. Would she never learn! She sat down to read the paper for a while.

  She glanced at the clock. Mother’s clock. Whatever would she have said if she’d been here? She’d have said, ‘No! At your age, you stupid girl? And what about me? How would I manage?’

  That could have been one very good reason for saying yes.

  The phone interrupted her thoughts. Oh no, she’d never get used to answering the phone. Ralph had insisted she had one, but she knew hardly anyone who would ring her anyway. Who on earth could it be at this time of night?

  ‘Hello, it’s Turnham Malpas 23235 here.’

  ‘Muriel? It’s Ralph.’

  ‘Ralph? Oh, Ralph, you’ve just caught me. I’m gettin
g ready to leave for the midnight service. Where are you?’

  ‘In Singapore.’

  ‘Singapore, oh my word. How are you?’

  ‘Not nearly as well as I should like. How are you, my dear?’

  ‘Not nearly as well as I should like.’

  ‘I see. What are you doing tomorrow?’

  ‘I’m having dinner at Caroline and Peter’s. What will you be doing?’

  ‘I’m about to have my Christmas morning breakfast. I’ve been awake a long time in the night thinking about the village and what you’d all be doing. I should never have gone away so abruptly.’

  ‘I’ve bought you a little present for when you get back.’

  ‘Thank you, Muriel. I might decide to go home earlier than I planned.’

  ‘That would be nice, Ralph.’

  ‘Would it?’

  ‘Yes, it would. I should enjoy seeing you back again.’

  ‘Good, so be it. Happy Christmas, my dear.’

  ‘And to you, Ralph. Bye bye.’

  ‘I won’t say goodbye. I’ll say, see you soon. Sleep well, my dear, and give everyone Christmas greetings from me.’

  The phone went dead. Muriel snatched up her bag and gloves, patted Pericles on his head, slammed the front door shut and raced with a glad heart to the church.

  She stood in the doorway full of surprised delight. St Thomas à Becket had been transformed. In every window were huge, bright-red candles burning; at the foot of each candle were circular arrangements of holly and fir cones. Each of the stone columns supporting the roof had a necklace of ivy and artificial poinsettias around the top, and trailing downwards were long strands of ivy interspersed with shiny red curls of holly-red ribbon. The altar was ablaze with red candles and at the front stood two beautiful flower displays made up with the blooms Willie had got from the hothouses at the Big House. At the foot of the lectern a marvellous artificial display of poinsettias and Christmas roses and holly had been placed, with red ribbons looping their way to the floor from the top of it. Standing to one side was a beautiful Nativity scene – not one of those tinsely things one saw in shop windows, but splendid carved creatures and lovely painted figures of Mary and Joseph. Even the font had not been forgotten: it had pure white ribbons and small white chrysanthemums in a kind of crown around the top, with a large fat white candle in the centre illuminating the display. Over all was the faint smell of frankincense. All the lights had been turned out so that the church was lit only by the candlelight. Mrs Peel was playing completely new pieces and putting her heart and soul into it, quite different from her normal mechanical playing.

  Harriet and Jimbo were there with the three children, and Sir Ronald and Lady Bissett, she dressed in her rather alarming leopardskin coat, he in his usual tweeds. Even Jimmy Glover had come and he was wearing a new suit. What had come over everyone? How lovely the church was and full to overflowing, too. Willie had to bring some extra chairs in from the Sunday School. When was the last time we had to do that? Muriel thought.

  The organ rose to a crescendo. The choir processed down the aisle looking extremely pleased with themselves, for they were wearing their brand-new bright-red cassocks and new surplices with stiff white ruffs around their necks, which transformed a raggle taggle group into angels. Peter was smiling triumphantly at his flock. They all sang the first carol: ‘All my heart this night rejoices’.

  She caught Caroline’s eye and they both smiled.

  AN ORION EBOOK

  First published in Great Britain in 1994 by Orion.

  This ebook first published in 2010 by Orion Books.

  Copyright © Rebecca Shaw 1994

  The right of Rebecca Shaw to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the copyright, designs and patents act 1988.

  All characters and events in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior permission in writing of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published without a similar condition, including this condition, being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

  ISBN: 978 1 4091 4010 8

  Orion Books

  The Orion Publishing Group Ltd

  Orion House

  5 Upper St Martin’s Lane

  London WC2H 9EA

  An Hachette UK Company

  www.orionbooks.co.uk