A Village Deception (Turnham Malpas 15) (30 page)

Beth came in and slid her arms round his neck. She kissed the back of his head. Coming round to face him she said softly, ‘Love you, Dad.’ Putting her arms around his neck again she laid her cheek against his. ‘Love you, Dad, so much. I’m so very, very, very sorry it’s come to this. They must all have taken leave of their senses to be saying the things they are. I overheard someone talking in the store when they didn’t know I was in there and it took all my self-control not to leap out from behind the soups and give them a piece of my mind.’

‘You never said.’

‘I know. I didn’t because I was too scared. I saw what was coming. But if it’s how you feel, that you must leave, then so be it. But we love you, don’t we, Alex, even if they don’t.’

Alex didn’t look up, but he did nod his head.

Caroline kicked the door open and walked into the study
carrying a tray of four mugs of coffee. ‘Here we are.’ She handed them round and then sat herself beside Alex.

‘If that doorbell goes,’ she said, ‘or someone knocks, we’ll ignore it.’ So they sat in silence, sipping coffee and trying to come to terms with Peter’s announcement. They’d known it was coming that morning, but hearing it actually said had come as a shock. All three had been convinced Peter would change his mind. But he hadn’t so there they were lamenting their predicament.

‘Of course,’ said Alex, ‘they haven’t had a chance to change their minds yet, have they? They might when they understand what they’ve brought about.’

‘It’s too late for that.’ Peter put his coffee mug down on the tray. ‘Now that I’ve said I can’t stay. Maybe, in the end, it will be a good thing. Perhaps I’m needed elsewhere.’

‘But,’ wailed Beth, ‘I love it here.’

‘I know, I know. It is very comfortable living here. Too comfortable, perhaps. Perhaps I need a new challenge.’

‘Perhaps,’ said Alex, ‘we all need a new challenge.’

Beth burst out with, ‘Our results next week might provide us with that very thing. A new challenge and perhaps not going on to university like we’d hoped for.’

Alex rubbed his face to refresh himself. ‘Maybe I’m not destined to be a doctor then.’

‘Nor me an archeologist. But I wouldn’t know what else to do. I’ve always wanted to be one. Well, nearly always. What on earth would I do if I don’t get in? Thursday’s coming all too quickly. Hell’s bells.’ Beth laid her head on Peter’s shoulder. ‘Dad, what shall I do?’

‘Darling child, at this moment I have absolutely no idea about anything. Sorry.’

‘I propose we leave the house by the back door and let everyone stew whilst we recover ourselves. Come on. Strip off your cassock, Peter, and let’s just go.’ Caroline leaped to her feet in
an effort to inject some energy into them all and they fled out to the garage, got the car out, and just went. Anywhere but Turnham Malpas.

‘My God! Did I hear you right? Why hasn’t the man consulted me? I would have dealt with it immediately.’

‘What would you have done?’

Craddock Fitch poured his coffee out into his porcelain cup and sipped it, black, hot and sugarless. His secretary watched warily. It was his tone of voice she was unsure about and she really wished she’d never told him.

‘I’d have given him the bloody money, wouldn’t I? I won’t have him resigning, it’s ridiculous. How will we manage without him?’

‘Perfectly well, I imagine.’

‘What’s got into you this morning?’

‘Nothing. But he is a bit on the holy side, isn’t he?’

‘What else can you expect, woman? You are being plain daft. The man is our conscience, our collective conscience, didn’t you realise that?’

‘Not especially, no. It’s the command he has over people round here, the “only if the rector agrees” type of authority. Well, now he’s got his comeuppance. They won’t agree, so that’s that, he’s off.’

‘Much more of that attitude and
you’ll
be off for good! Maybe it’s time
you
went too. You’re an idiot, woman. He’s what holds us all together. He’s the glue.’

‘That’s not what you said when it was you wanting to sell the church silver all those years ago.’

This remark brought about a pause in Craddock Fitch’s
onslaught. The fool was quite right. He pushed that acknowledgement aside and remarked instead, ‘Your trouble is that you’re not religious.’

‘And you are?’ His secretary raised a sceptical eyebrow.

Mr Fitch was so angry he could have struck her down. In fact, he wished for a biblical plague that really would strike her down. She’d worked for him for far too long, that was obvious. She’d become insolent.

‘One more sarcastic remark like that and it’ll be you leaving. Right?’

‘Are you sacking me?’

He hesitated briefly and then said, ‘If you fancy it, yes, I am. You can go out that door right now. I’ve had enough of your kind of insolence.’

‘Right! OK then. As of this minute, I am no longer in your employ. I’ll let Human Resources know what you owe me.’

‘I never said I was paying you
money
to leave.’

She paused at the door, her hand on the knob in case a quick exit was needed. ‘You will though. It’s the law. I shall need to be paid off.’

‘You’ll be laid out if you’re not careful. Right!’

‘That’s threatening, that is. I could sue.’

‘Sue away, I shall be glad to see the back of you.’

So, to his surprise, she left. They’d had rows before, but she’d always turned up the next morning as though their upset had never happened. It appeared to him that this time was very different. All this because he was so upset about Peter. How could this have all taken place without him knowing? Kate was his eyes and ears, but this had landed on him without warning.

Peter! What he’d said about him being his conscience was absolutely true. He mightn’t attend church regularly but he did rely on the man for keeping him straight on moral questions. One look deep into his eyes and he, Craddock Fitch, was putty in his hands and all the best in him came to the fore. He stormed
up and down his office thinking up schemes to keep Peter right where he belonged.

Then he remembered what Kate had said to him once in the first year of their marriage: Don’t brandish money about in broad daylight, but let people benefit from it by stealth. Of course, that was it. He’d donate the money the church needed anonymously. How? He tapped the side of his nose with his index finger. And then he realised that he knew exactly who would help him keep it secret. The person in question followed in the same footsteps as his father, able to keep secrets better than anyone he knew. A chip off the old block, but much nicer.

Then the church could keep the silver and he could keep Peter in the church. Of course. Immediately, as of now, he’d do that very thing. The repairs could be done and no one would be making a single wasteful, unnecessary sacrifice. He rang for his secretary and was surprised to find he got no reply. He marched into her office to find her collecting her bits and pieces together.

‘Now, now. Our little tiffs don’t really mean anything, do they? Come now …’

He struggled to remember her name and couldn’t. Was it Penny? Paula? Pat?

Damn it. ‘I need my car. I’m going out.’

‘You know where it is, go and get it. Remember I’m no longer in your employ.’

‘I didn’t know you meant it.’

‘I certainly did and so did you. I can find far more pleasant work than being a secretary to a mean-minded, arrogant man like you. Good morning.’

So Mr Fitch set out on his mission of mercy sitting in the back of his Rolls muttering about women this, and women that, and then he remembered he was married to one and smiled. He patted his pocket to ensure he had his cheque book with him and marched into Neal and Neal Chartered Accountants. He saw Hugh Neal and made all the arrangements. He choked
slightly when he made out the cheque, but it salved his conscience and made sure, he hoped, of a place in heaven for him when the time came. Then he remembered Kate and hoped heaven wouldn’t be round the next corner for a long while yet. He followed this up with a visit to the rectory and, to his delight, found Peter in his study.

Dottie had answered the door and, while she was dying to put her ear to the study door to find out what he’d come about, she didn’t. Instead she polished every surface in the sitting room to within an inch of its life, as always.

Mr Fitch had come up with a clever plan. He was going to try to persuade Peter not to leave as a way of putting him off the scent of tracking the donation to its source. Peter would assume, from their conversation, that it couldn’t possibly be Craddock Fitch who made the donation since he’d tried to get him to stay with no mention of a massive contribution to the church funds to help persuade him.

Craddock Fitch went home rejoicing at his tactics and the first person he met was Jeremy Mayer. He was outside, smoking a cigar on the terrace, and Craddock was forcibly struck by how dreadful he looked. My God! The man was dying on his feet. Surely he wasn’t pining for the slut who’d been his wife. He was well shot of her, as Craddock knew from personal experience.

‘Jeremy! You OK? You don’t look too good.’

Jeremy nodded his head.

‘I didn’t know you smoked.’

He got another nod.

‘Not heard any more about, you know … ?’

Jeremy looked at him, straight in the face, and Craddock saw the pain in his eyes. Suddenly he felt ashamed of what had happened in the past.

Jeremy shook his head.

‘I’ll join you with one of those. It’s years since I smoked one. After the morning I’ve had, I could do with one.’

Jeremy offered him his cigar case and Craddock helped himself. Then Jeremy lit it for him and the two of them stood smoking on the terrace, their backs to the big house, staring out across Home Park towards the Old Barn.

‘I always knew.’

‘What?’ asked Craddock Fitch.

‘About you and Venetia.’

Mr Fitch coughed a cloud of smoke from his throat and lied, ‘I guessed you’d think that. You’re quite wrong on that score, I’d nothing to do with her.’

‘Beggar you for it. She was mine.’

‘Let’s be honest here, Jeremy—’

‘No, it’s for me to be honest, not you. I’m the honest one. I didn’t stray with someone else’s wife.’ He remained staring into the distance. ‘I loved her. People might think she wasn’t worth it, but I loved her. I put up with that actor fellow Hugo, this man, that man, even her passion for the rector, though that never came to anything of course.’

‘I should think not. You shouldn’t even think along those lines. The rector, indeed. I’m shocked.’ And he was too. Not just shocked, but
appalled.
What was the matter with the man? How had he landed himself with Jeremy letting his hair down like this? In an intuitive flash he saw the truth; this was guilt talking. It was Jeremy who’d killed her.

No, he must be wrong. Not old Jeremy. He’d bullied him for years until he’d grown bored of it and Kate had persuaded him to treat Jeremy like a human being. They’d got on much better after that.

‘Is there something you’re trying to tell me? If so, spit it out.’

Jeremy turned to face him instead of staring across at the Old Barn. He slowly brought his arm back and Craddock Fitch, totally unaware of the man’s intention, watched as Jeremy’s fist shot out and landed fair and square on his nose. In spite of his
very evident exhaustion, Jeremy’s punch was powerful and the blood flowed.

‘That’s from Venetia, for using her as a prostitute.’ Then Jeremy walked back into the house, leaving Craddock Fitch mopping up blood with his immaculate handkerchief. It didn’t seem to want to stop, so he went inside to find his secretary. Then he remembered, too late, that she’d sacked herself that morning. And all because of him. Damn everything this morning. Everything and everybody. What was the point of giving all that money to the church and then having a morning like this one? But somewhere deep down, Craddock Fitch knew he’d got the punch because it was well deserved and nothing to do with God, nor the donation.

The church treasurer, Hugh Neal, rang Peter early on the Wednesday morning to tell him about the massive anonymous donation the church had received.
‘How much?
Have I heard you right? We’re talking six figures here?’

‘Yes, we are. Fantastic, isn’t it?’

‘Who from?’

‘It’s anonymous, Peter. I can’t say, can I? I paid it into the bank before they changed their minds.’

‘Who on earth can it be, Hugh?’

‘Not the faintest. If I were you, I’d get using it for the repairs in case they ask for it back! Only joking, but it is a godsend. Literally. Be glad.’ Hugh refrained from saying, ‘So you won’t need to resign now.’ But he did say, ‘Is someone on high telling you something here, Peter? Be seeing you.’

‘I can’t believe it. What a huge surprise! I’m completely overwhelmed. Are you sure you’ve got it right? I mean, it is such a colossal sum.’

‘Of course it’s right, I counted the noughts! Several times! Be thankful. Rejoice!’

‘I will. Thank you, Hugh.’

Peter sat staring into space thinking about this enormous windfall. Was it money from Ralph’s estate, perhaps? It would be the kind of gesture he would make. Maybe there wasn’t anyone to inherit the money so he’d left it to the church instead. No, of course not, he was quite wrong. Craddock Fitch? No, he’d been that morning to beg him not to leave and he hadn’t mentioned a bribe, so it wasn’t him. He rang Caroline at the practice and told her the good news.