Willie took a deep draught of his pint and began his story. ‘Ralph’s grandfather was a right well set up young man, handsome yer know. Sir Bernard, he was called. Well, he was an army officer and he fought in the Boer War. They do say . . .’
‘How do you know all this?’ Pat queried.
‘’Cos my grandma was a young woman at the time and she knew all about it. They do say that he was a right ladies’ man. No one was safe if he took a fancy to ’em, from servant girls to high society. A right charmer he was and not half. Well, his parents persuaded him to get married, calm ’im down a bit they thought, put a stop to the scandal and that. He married just as the Boer War started, goes off after a few days’ honeymoon to serve Queen and country in South Africa. Gets wounded, gets sent home. Right glamorous he looks with his arm in a sling and a walking stick ’cos of his bad leg. Goes back after a few months’ recuperation, leaves Lady Templeton expecting, and what no one realised until later, he leaves Mrs Beattie Prior expecting too.’
Vera sat back amazed. ‘No!! It all went on then just like it does now, it’s no different is it?’
‘Beattie Prior’s husband was right set up, thinking that after ten years of being married he’d at last proved himself. Well, ’e ’ad dark hair, really dark hair, and she was dark like a Spaniard.’
‘What’s that got to do with it?’ Pat asked.
‘You’ll see. One night there’s this terrible thunderstorm, the night that big branch fell from the royal oak and they all thought it would die. That same night Beattie and Lady Templeton both ’ad their babies. The doctor attended at the Big House, and the old woman who acted as village midwife attended Beattie. They both had boys at dawn within an hour of each other. It was only when Prior saw the Templeton baby at its christening that his suspicions were really aroused. They had a big do yer see, ’im being the son and heir, and all the village was invited. So there’s Beattie Prior standing there with ’er little lad in her arms and her husband beside her and up comes Lady Templeton with her little lad in her arms. Both babies were as fair as it’s possible to be, with dark brown eyes like all the Templetons. So alike they could ’ave been twins! Arthur’s grandad looked first at one and then at the other and so did Lady Templeton and snap! The terrible truth dawned.’
Drink forgotten, Pat said, ‘What happened then?’
‘Don’t know. It was all hushed up. All I can say is that Beattie Prior and her husband suddenly moved into their farm down the bottom of Shepherd’s Hill. Up till then they’d been as poor as crows, ’im only a labourer on Home Farm. Sir Bernard and his wife ’ad another two boys after that first one. Anyway, First World War put a stop to it, ‘cos Sir Bernard got killed and his son did too. Only just seventeen he was, lied about his age when he joined up.’
Pat shook her head. ‘I don’t believe a word of it, you’ve made it up. Arthur Prior a Templeton! That’s a laugh.’
‘I’m telling you the tale as my grandma told me, and she wasn’t a liar.’
‘So,’ said Vera, ‘Arthur is the son of that Beattie’s baby?’
‘That’s right.’
‘So,’ said Pat, ‘Arthur Prior is a kind of cousin to Sir Ralph?’
‘I think that’s what he’ll be.’
‘Does Sir Ralph know all this?’
‘I don’t know, no one mentions it any more.’
‘Well, by heck, what a story. No wonder he’s against Sir Ralph making more money. He’s jealous, that’s what. Maybe he thinks he ought to own the spare land. Maybe he thinks his eldest ought to inherit from Sir Ralph with him having no children. Maybe he even thinks he ought to be Sir Arthur.’ She giggled at the thought. ‘I wonder which one was born first? That could make a difference, could it?’
‘’Ere, wet yer whistle with another drink. My round.’ The three women pushed their glasses towards Jimmy and while he got the drinks in they sat contemplating the implications of what they had just heard.
Sylvia asked Willie if he remembered both of them at school.
‘Oh yes. Ralph as bright as it’s possible to be, always leading, always ahead, always thinking up tricks to play and Arthur, good old Arthur sensibly plodding along. As kids we didn’t know any of the history of course. It never dawned on us.’
‘I tell you what Willie, maybe your Sylvia’s married into the aristocracy!’
Sylvia laughed. ‘Sir Willie! Surely not!’
‘What d’yer mean?’
‘I mean that maybe your dad was one of Sir Bernard’s mistakes, yer never know, with ’im spreading it about so much!’
Willie took offence. ‘That’s enough, Pat, thank you, I’ll have you know my grandmother was a Methodist, strict teetotal she was. Never a drop.’
‘Can’t say you’ve inherited her qualities! This building of the houses could be quite a story before the year’s out, couldn’t it? Wait till the papers get on to it!’
After the evening service Peter went home, changed from his cassock into a shirt and jeans, and went downstairs to spend time with Caroline. It being summer, they had left their evening meal until evensong was over and the children in bed. Caroline had pulled the dining table closer to the french windows to catch what small amount of breeze there was, and the two of them sat eating their supper together.
‘Too hot for cooking tonight, hope you don’t mind a salad.’
‘Of course I don’t mind. It’s a prince of a salad and delicious. I’ve been thinking, my darling girl, it’s time we had a Sunday morning crèche.’
‘I had the very same thought myself, in fact someone mentioned it when I was shaking hands after the service. They said there’s our two, there’s baby Frances, and there’s the four Nightingales, and that’s just for starters. They can’t possibly come with four of them, so, yes, something will have to be done. We’ll need toys and things to keep them busy, a room and a rota for helpers.’
‘I’ll leave that to you, then. Although it’s sweet of Alex to shout “Dada”, it’s not conducive to worship, is it? He must be distracting for other people besides me.’
‘Yes, I’m sure he must be, but in the nicest way.’
‘Yes, of course. Caroline, do you ever feel a little worried by Beth?’
‘Worried? What about?’
‘Well, she seems so quiet. She tags along behind Alex like a shadow. He’s talking and making himself a nuisance, but Beth is so quiet. Those big blue eyes of hers take everything in but she doesn’t talk and I mean! Going to sleep as soon as she sees me come in!’
‘Are you saying you think she’s retarded?’
‘No, no, not at all, but there is something worrying me, and I’m not sure what.’
‘You used the words “takes everything in”–you’re right, she does. If I say I want something and it’s within her reach, she goes straight to it and brings it to me. If I say it’s bathtime she’s half way up the stairs before you can say knife. If I’ve mislaid something she knows exactly where it is and takes me to it. She’s not daft, believe me, just overshadowed by Alex.’
‘I see. Well she is only nineteen months, so we’ll give it a bit longer.’
‘You watch, she’ll surprise us all.’
Peter offered Caroline more potatoes. She shook her head. ‘No, you finish them, I have enough. Peter, what do you think is behind that scene in church?’
‘I’m convinced it isn’t just the houses. You should have seen the look they gave each other, something goes very deep between the two of them. Arthur said he disliked Ralph’s Lord of the Manor look, which I thought very scathing. No doubt, my darling girl will find out before she is much older.’
‘No doubt she will.’
‘I’m most concerned about these houses, though. Ralph is determined to go ahead with his plans, but I’m not too sure they could . . .’
‘I think the whole matter depends on how many houses are built. Six or eight or even ten for renting would be ideal, but twenty or more would throw the whole village out of balance, and I would fe
el I should protest.’
‘I don’t know if we can get involved. I’d rather work from the sidelines to influence things. We certainly can’t align ourselves with Arthur Prior’s petition, nor with Ralph.’
‘Why not?’
Peter, noting the challenging tone of Caroline’s voice, searched for a diplomatic reply. ‘Unfortunately, you and I have people from both persuasions under our care and we can’t be seen to side with either, I have to do what’s right by both of them.’
‘I know.’
‘You won’t take sides will you?’
‘I might.’
‘Caroline!’
‘I only said I might.’
‘Look, we had all that trou . . . misunderstanding about Jimmy and his rabbit snares, please don’t, darling, please don’t begin another crusade.’
‘Crusade? Well, really!’
‘I mean it, Caroline, everything is going so well at the moment. The attendance figures are way up, all the things I’ve started are taking shape, and I don’t want anything to mar it.’
Caroline left her chair and went to sit on his knee. ‘Move round; that’s it. It’s ages since I sat on your knee. You and I promised we wouldn’t trespass.’
‘Yes, I know, but . . .’ He couldn’t go further because Caroline was kissing him.
‘Peter, let’s leave all this and go to bed.’
‘You abandoned woman you, what will Sylvia think in the morning when she comes?’
‘“Good on yer, Pete,” she’ll say!’
‘You’ve watched too many Australian soap operas.’
‘When do I get time to watch soap operas?’
‘Never.’
‘You lock up, I’ll go up to bed.’ Caroline trailed her fingers along his bruised jaw. ‘Handsome man you are, did you know that? Handsome.’ She got off his knee, kissed his cheek and ran up the stairs.
Peter decided he’d clear the table and stack the dishwasher. After he’d turned out the lights, checked the cats were in and the doors were locked, he followed her upstairs. Caroline was standing looking at herself in the mirror. The clothes she’d been wearing lay in a heap at her feet.
‘Peter, I’m getting old. Look, everything I possess is beginning to sag.’
He kicked her clothes aside and stood behind her, locking his hands around her waist. She smelt of soap and toothpaste. She must have had a shower, for her skin was warm but at the same time slightly damp. Speaking to her reflection in the mirror Peter said, ‘You look wonderful to me, and quite superbly tempting, Dr Harris. What’s made you decide to take stock?’
He watched his own hands as they began to wander about her body, enjoying the feel of her smooth flesh. He bent to kiss the nape of her neck where her hair curled childlike against her skin, and he looked over her shoulder into the mirror to observe her reaction. She rested her body against his and taking his hand she held it to her breast, smoothing her fingers along the back of it, enjoying its strength, and twisting his wedding ring round and round. Then she took his hand to her mouth and gently kissed each of his fingers.
Peter turned her around and, with the same fingers she had kissed, began slowly tracing her profile from where her forehead began at her hairline, down her nose, her top lip, across her mouth and down her chin to her jaw. Then cradling her face in his hands, he caressed her mouth with long awakening kisses. He stopped, and looking deeply into her eyes said, ‘You don’t regret marrying me, do you, darling? I do realise it does put limitations sometimes on your reaction to things, doesn’t it?’
‘I don’t regret one single minute of the time I’ve spent with you. It’s not the easiest of occupations being a clergy wife, but the one particular member of that august body I’ve married makes all the limitations worthwhile. Mind you, I can’t guarantee there will never come a time when I shan’t put my foot down on some principle or another.’ She grinned at him and said, ‘I might even sign Arthur Prior’s petition!’
He stopped kissing her and scrutinised her face. She laughed and so did he.
‘Get thee to bed, woman of my heart.’
Chapter 15
Pat placed herself next to Vera on the settle and put her orange juice down on the nearest beer mat. Vera inspected her glass and said ‘Orange juice! Since when ’ave you, Pat Duckett, drunk orange juice? That’s a turn-up for the book.’
‘Mi dad’s ’ere, isn’t he? Staunch teetotal he is, Lord ’elp us. Went on the bottle when mum died, straight down the slippery slope. Alcoholic he was and no mistake. Took himself in hand and hasn’t touched a drop since. We shan’t be seeing him in ’ere, believe me.’
Jimmy expressed himself as being disappointed. ‘Fancied ’aving another chap to talk to, make a change from all you women.’
‘Cheek. At least you get to know all the latest. That taxi job of yours takes up all yer time. There’s only me and Vera to tell you anything. Isn’t it hot tonight? Hardly slept a wink last night, tossing and turning, all the windows open and I was still too hot. Mind you, with our Michelle’s bed in my room and her restless too, I didn’t have much hope.’
‘So, what is the latest then?’
‘Well.’ Pat took a long draught of her orange juice and pulled a face. ‘I shan’t last long on this game. It’s only a token gesture to mi dad. Well, little Flick is doing fine. Been home two weeks now. Did yer see ’er this morning, sitting out in the sun watching your geese? Well, yer wouldn’t ’cos yer were working, but she was. Two crutches she has, bless her heart. Jimbo, I call him that now, we’re very close . . .’
‘Close? You and Mr Charter-Plackett? That’s rich!’ Vera shook her head at this flight of fancy on her friend’s part.
‘Less of yer cheek, Vera Wright. I’m one of his most reliable staff. He’s told me so. And now mi dad’s come I shall be doing more work for him. So . . .’
Jimmy interrupted. ‘You were telling us about little Flick.’
‘Right, I was. Jimbo was saying she’s so disappointed not to have got back to school in time for the start of term, but she’s determined she’ll be back before long. Mr Palmer says she can go mornings at first and see how she gets on. She goes for therapy in the afternoons. She adores that baby. And no wonder, that little Fran is beautiful. I could take ’er ’ome with me.’
‘Yer’d soon change yer mind.’
Pat laughed. ‘Yes, I expect I should! She ’asn’t ’alf got some grit she ’as, that Flick. When yer think ’ow badly knocked about she was, and ’ere she is fighting to get back to school. Jimbo, as I call ’im now, is that anxious about ’er. But then so would I be if it was our Michelle.’
‘I’ve been thinking, where’s yer dad sleeping?’
Pat’s face fell. ‘With our Dean. He’s none too pleased and I don’t suppose mi dad is either, ’aving to share with a teenager.’
‘Where yer working this week?’ Vera asked, wondering if she might offer her services. Cleaning at the nursing home didn’t bring in that much.
‘We’ve a twenty-first dinner party at a big house far side of Culworth on Saturday, a fiftieth wedding anniversary lunch Sunday, and then Friday night Little Dereham’s Cricket Club annual dinner. That’ll be a right smashing do and not half. They’re a right crowd. Then we’ve a special dinner up at the Big House for Craddock Fitch coming up soon. He’s entertaining some of the local nobs. But I’m not helpin’ with that.’
‘Trying to ingratiate himself, is ’e?’ Jimmy asked.
‘Something like that. Doing overkill to make up for wanting to sell the silver.’
‘What does yer Dad do for a living then?’ Jimmy asked.
‘Up till now he’s been in charge of the glasshouses at Bothring Park. Grapes, peaches, melons, you name it he grew ’em. I’ve asked Venetia if there’s a job going up at the Big House, but I haven’t heard anything positive.’
‘Leastways he’ll get your garden in order,’ was Vera’s heartfelt comment. ‘My Don’s sick of all them seeds from your weeds blowing into our garden,
one body’s work it is weeding.’
‘If that’s all yer’ve got to worry about I feel sorry for yer.’
Jimmy, seeing a row blowing up, offered to get the drinks in.
Pat spotted Willie coming in. ‘Oh there’s Willie, he’s been in court today. Come on over Willie, and tell us ’ow yer went on,’ she shouted.
After he’d settled himself in his usual chair he said, ‘My Sylvia’s babysitting tonight, the rector and Dr Harris have gone to a big dinner at the Deanery. So I shan’t stay long, I’ll go keep her company.’
‘We know, we know, tell us ’ow yer went on at the court.’
‘Well . . . them who stole the lead from the church roof got fined and community service. Ought to have been horsewhipped, stealing, but there you are. You might say I caught ’em too early, if they’d stolen more they’d have been fined more, might even have gone to prison.’
‘No, really, is that all they got?’
‘But . . .’ said Willie, ‘there’s more.’ He glanced round the bar. ‘Guess whose case was before mine?’
‘No idea. Whose was it?’
‘Alan Crimble’s.’
Pat nearly jumped from her seat. ‘We haven’t seen ’im serving tonight yet, ’e didn’t get prison did he?’
‘No. Asked a policeman I know from Culworth. “What did the last one get?” I says to ’im. “Not enough,” he says.’ Willie took another drink. Vera and Pat became impatient.
‘Well, what did he get?’
‘He got fined three hundred pounds, disqualified from driving for a year. He can pay the three hundred pounds off at so much a week. Car’s a write-off of course, it was that before the accident anyways, we all knew that.’
‘So are you saying, then, that Flick getting hurt like she did, didn’t count?’
‘Well, yer see for a start, there were no witnesses, were there? Middle of the morning, everyone in school, or out at work, and pouring with rain, yer know, nobody about, and she did run out from the gate without looking, she said so herself to the police, she told ’em when she was well enough to speak to ’em. Rector and I ran out after we’d ’eard the crash, so we didn’t see it either. So it’s all the legal things he copped for. No MOT, no insurance, no road fund licence and that.’
Village Matters Page 13
