(7/13) Affairs at Thrush Green (20 page)

Her one fear was that as soon as Mrs Jefferson reappeared then her job would come to an end. So far, Mrs Jefferson's injuries had taken their time in mending. 'It's an ill wind that blows nobody any good,' Nelly had quoted silently to herself, when she heard how slowly her predecessor was recovering. The broken ribs had led later to bronchitis, and this in its turn to a troublesome and painful cough. It was obvious that the patient could not expect to return to her duties, and lifting heavy objects and other arduous kitchen duties were going to be beyond her for some time.

Mrs Peters considered herself extremely fortunate in having Nelly in the kitchen, and never ceased to be grateful to Ella and Dimity for suggesting her.

There was no doubt about it, Nelly was superior in every way to Mrs Jefferson, but Mrs Peters had no intention of depriving her old friend of the job and would welcome her back just as soon as she was fit.

If only, thought The Fuchsia Bush's owner, she could employ them both. But would the business stand it? And would the two ladies work together in harmony?

Well, time enough to worry when her former cook returned, she told herself. Something would turn up, no doubt. It generally did.

Kit Armitage returned from his visit to Wales looking remarkably refreshed.

Mrs Jenner was delighted to welcome him back, but within half an hour of his home-coming she had poured out the story of her sister-in-law Doris's perfidy.

'But surely she'll come back?' said Kit. 'Isn't it just a little tiff?'

'To my mind, she's finished with Perce. I can't make up my mind if he wants her back or not. He misses his comforts, that I do know, and asked me if I'd take him in. He's fond of my cooking.'

'And are you going to have him here?' asked Kit, feeling some alarm.

'Dear me, no! I'm in my seventies, and I'm not taking on a silly chap like Percy, brother or no brother. He's old enough and ugly enough to look after his own affairs, as our mother used to say, God rest her. I've never worried Perce with my troubles, and apart from offering him a meal if he blows in at the right time, I'm not making a rod for my back.'

Kit heartily approved of this downright approach to the problem, and said so.

'So you see,' went on his landlady, 'this will make no difference to your arrangements. I only hope you'll be able to stay for a long time to come. You've been the Perfect Lodger, if I may say so.'

'You're very kind,' replied Kit, 'and you make me so comfortable I could easily be persuaded to stay for ever. But I really must find myself a house. Prices go up every month, and I'm determined to put my shoulder to the wheel now, and get settled.'

'Well, don't hurry on my account,' said Mrsjenner.

There was the sound of someone wiping feet on the door scraper at the back door.

'I'd better go. Probably Perce with some vegetables. He's just in time for a cup of coffee. It's my belief he keeps one eye on the clock.'

And downstairs she went to greet the grass widower.

Kit's first port of call was to see Connie and Dotty.

He found the two ladies shelling peas in the garden, with Flossie at their feet eagerly snatching up any stray pea and munching it with enjoyment.

'That's an odd taste for a dog, isn't it?' he asked, when he had greeted the ladies and was settled in a decidedly rickety deckchair.

'That's nothing,' Dotty told him. 'We had a sweet little cat once who enjoyed peppermints. Not the really strong ones that Papa had for his indigestion, but the mild sort. Sometimes I made her peppermint creams, for a treat. Quite simple, you know, just icing sugar and a few drops of peppermint essence. No doubt you made them yourself as a child.'

Kit confessed that he had never tried his hand at peppermint creams.

'But I did make Everton toffee once,' he said, 'and ruined the saucepan. It went black before my very eyes.'

'Tell us about Wales,' said Connie. His appearance had given her so much delight that she had felt herself blushing, much to her horror. It was really absurd at her age, she scolded herself, to behave like someone of sixteen, and she could only hope that he put her rosiness down to the sun. With any luck, he had not noticed, but men, usually obtuse, were often disconcertingly sharp, just when one would rather they were not.

Kit launched into an animated account of his holiday, and fished from his pocket a folder of photographs.

The colander of peas was set aside, under the seat in the shade, as the two ladies studied them in turn.

'This is the River Dovey,' he explained, 'and this is one of the tributaries where we did most of our fishing. Here's the Olivers' house. Here's the church. And this is Diana.'

Was it just Connie's imagination, or did his voice sound particularly loving as he handed over the last photograph? The subject was certainly stunningly attractive. Connie noted ruefully the excellent figure, the smooth dark hair and the enchanting smile.

'She looks lovely, ' commented Connie.

'She is,' agreed Kit, tucking the photographs back in the folder.

'And when are you off next?' enquired Connie.

'I'm not,' he assured her. 'I'm now applying myself whole-heartedly to finding a house. There are two in this week's paper which sound hopeful, and I believe the agent has another two possibilities. And Justin has heard of a place south of Lulling, so that gives me plenty to be going on with. '

He hesitated for a moment.

'If it's not too much to ask, would you like to help me? Both of you, of course. I'd be glad of a second opinion.'

'I should love to,' said Connie.

'Well, I won't promise,' said Dotty, i'm making our bread now, you know, and it all takes time. And the early plums need bottling. But, thank you for the invitation. If my duties allow, I should be delighted.'

'Then that's settled,' said Kit, throwing himself back in the chair. A terrible rending sound followed, and Kit gradually subsided through the worn canvas amidst cries of distress from the ladies.

'Are you hurt? That wretched chair! It should have been thrown away years ago,' cried Connie, bending over her laughing visitor who was struggling to rise from the débris.

'No harm done, but look at your peas, ' said Kit, standing upright.

The colander was on its side. At least half the peas had gone, and the back view of Flossie, with her tail between her legs, was vanishing through the hedge.

'We asked for that,' commented Connie.

'Excellent roughage for her,' said Dotty indulgently. 'Dear little Floss! So intelligent!'

Kit was folding up the tattered chair.

'You know, the frame's perfectly sound,' he said, studying it. 'I'll get some more canvas and mend it for you.'

They began to protest.

'No, I'd like to. I may not be a dab hand at peppermint creams,' he told Dotty, 'but I can mend deck chairs as well as the next.'

'In that case,' said Connie, 'I'll bring out the other three for your attention. They are all at that stage, believe me.'

The prolonged absence of Percy Hodge's wife made itself felt in places farther afield than Mrs Jenner's.

The example of one stone thrown into a pool creating ripples far around it, is nowhere more to the point than in a small community.

Winnie Bailey, and more particularly, Jenny, were both on guard against any unwelcome intrusions by a would-be suitor.

The regulars at The Two Pheasants discussed the affair avidly, and Albert, as a once-deserted husband, had plenty to say.

'She'll come back all right,' he told his listeners. 'Mine did, didn't she? I just bided my time. Acted dignified. Never run after her. She come back, and now she knows when she's well off.'

'You went down to see her in hospital,' put in the landlord. 'As I remember, you was shamed into it.'

Albert feigned deafness. That was the worst of village life, he mused. No one ever forgot any little mistakes you made. You could slip up perhaps twenty years ago, and some know-all would remind you of it.

He button-holed a woe-begone Percy one day and enlarged on the theme of wife-management.

'You mark my words, she'll come to her senses in time! Just don't give way, Percy my boy. Once she sees you can manage all right without her, she'll come running back. Women is awkward creatures. Like to think they can manage without us. But they can't, of course.'

'I don't know as I wholly
want
her back,' said Percy. 'She's led me a proper dance, and spends money like water. I never had that trouble with my dear Gertie. And her cooking was streets ahead. Marriage is a lottery, Albert, and that's a fact.'

'Don't I know it!' commiserated Albert. 'I've had my share of trouble, and that's why I'm giving you my advice. You let things ride for a bit. You may feel different if she comes back all humble-pie. On the other hand, if you finds you don't want her you could set about a divorce one day.'

Percy started as if stung by a wasp.

'Divorce? But that costs money!'

'Ah!' agreed Albert morosely. 'But anything worthwhile does, don't it?'

They turned over this sad fact in unhappy silence.

'What about half a pint?' said the sorrowing widower at last.

And together they entered The Two Pheasants.

Even as far away as Lulling, Percy Hodge's troubles were causing ripples. Charles Henstock, who had been relieved to find that Nelly had returned to the marital home and had understood that Doris's absence was simply a visit to her sister, was now dismayed to find that pressure was being exerted, yet again, for his ministrations.

'I'm really most reluctant to interfere in any little upset between husband and wife,' he told Ella when she brought up the matter. 'Ten chances to one it will all blow over, and I shall simply appear as a meddler.'

'Well, I can't see it would do any harm,' said Ella forthrightly, 'if you told Percy to fetch her back. And another thing, you could let him know he's a fool to keep throwing Gertie in Doris's face. What second wife is going to stand for that? I ask you!'

'It would only add fuel to the fire,' exclaimed Dimity, rushing to her husband's support. 'You must see that it can only put Charles in a most difficult position. If Percy comes to him for advice, that's quite a different proposition, but I'm sure it's a case of "Least said, soonest mended" here.'

'Well, I don't know,' protested Ella. 'If you've joined them together in holy matrimony I should have thought a bit of adhesive is needed if they come unstuck. Still, no doubt the bishop gives you guidance on this sort of thing.'

Charles laughed.

'He will if it ever gets to that stage, I'm sure. But at the moment I think we'll simply hope for the best.'

'The best being Doris's return, I suppose? I'll tell you what. Poor Jenny will be jolly relieved if she does deign to come back.'

As it happened, poor Jenny was destined to confront Percy within a day or two of this conversation.

She had walked across to the post box at the corner of Thrush Green, and then decided to take a short walk along the Nidden road.

The recent thunderstorm had cleared the air, and there was a freshness in the breeze that held a hint of early autumn. There were dahlias out in the gardens, great shaggy ones like floor mops, spiky ones of every hue from pale lemon to dark crimson, and dozens of the gay little pompom variety which Jenny loved best.

She was admiring them in a cottage garden when she became conscious of Percy emerging from a field gate.

It was too late to flee. Jenny stood her ground, as Percy approached.

'Nice day, Percy,' she said civilly.

'Would be if things was a bit different,' was his melancholy reply.

Jenny scented danger and took evasive action.

'Well, we'd all like some things different, I daresay,' she began briskly. 'Can't stop, Percy. I've got my ironing to do before tea.'

She turned and set off at a smart pace towards her home. To her dismay she found Percy at her elbow, pouring forth a stream of self-pity.

The well-worn phrases of 'never-understood-me', 'I-was-too-hasty-in-marrying-again' and 'I-always-tried-to-please-her' flowed like water off a duck's back as Jenny hastened along.

But when Percy was rash enough to puff explosively, for their pace was punishing: 'It was always you I wanted, as you well knows, Jenny,' she stopped, so suddenly that Percy nearly tripped over her.

Jenny faced him furiously.

'Stop that, Percy Hodge!' she cried. 'You're a married man and I won't hear no more. Any more of this nonsense and I'll set the police on you, and that's flat.'

Percy's mouth dropped open. The movement seemed to rouse Jenny to still greater heights of fury.

'And take that to be going on with!' she added, giving a resounding slap to her suitor's cheek. It was delivered with such wholesale venom that Percy stumbled into the verge, and while he was recovering his balance, Jenny marched away in triumph.

15. Under Doctor's Orders

THE NEW school year was a few weeks old when little Miss Fogerty was taken ill.

For the last two or three months she had diligently done her exercises, and tried to keep to Doctor Lovell's arduous diet.