Talk of the Village (6 page)

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Goodnight.'

'What's up with Willie?' Jimmy inquired as Willie pushed his way past a crowd coming in. 'He's in a hurry.'

Willie went home to his little cottage between the church and the rectory, bewildered by his reaction to Sylvia Bennett. He took one look around his sitting room and his heart sank to his boots. He saw everything with new eyes as if he'd never been in his own cottage before. He'd never noticed how awful it was. Something would have to be done. If ever he plucked up courage to invite Sylvia in he'd be mortified. In fact he couldn't invite her in. It was all too dreadful. He'd do what he'd been promising himself for years, dip into his savings and get it done up. He needed a new bathroom for a start. Couldn't ask Sylvia Bennett to go up the garden to that old privy when she got caught short.

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The news about Willie's improvements not only to his cottage but to his general appearance too, caused a great deal of interest in Turnham Malpas. The first meeting of the newly inaugurated Flower Festival Committee provided a good moment for an exchange of views, as Willie, co-opted onto the committee to advise on the feasibility of their plans, was unable to attend due to a severe cold. Peter had arranged the chairs in a circle to give the impression that no one person was in charge though nominally it was himself. Harriet Charter-Plackett, Mrs Peel the organist, Lady Bissett and Sylvia Bennett with Peter and Willie constituted the committee. Their speculation as to the cause of Willie's sudden burst of activity drawing no conclusions, they had to reluctantly begin the business of the meeting.

Lady Bissett removed her imitation Burberry and got down to brass tacks immediately. 'I'm full of ideas for this Flower Festival. We did one in Culworth Church, and it was compliments all round. Good organisation is the key.' Sheila Bissett had a vision of all white arrangements punctuated here and there by soft green foliage.

'Why all white, Sheila?' Harriet asked.

'Because it is restrained and tasteful.'

'Downright boring if you ask me,' Harriet retorted. 'There's no variety in that. I'm not much of a flower

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arranger but even I know there's not much to catch the eye if every arrangement is white.'

'Believe me I do know,' Sheila bridled. 'I've been a member of the Culworth Flower Arranging Society for the last five years. They did a very effective one in the Cathedral only two years ago. The variety comes in all the differing shapes of the petals and the foliage.'

Harriet pressed her point, 'The Cathedral is very light though, full of huge windows, while our church is small, dark and mediaeval. We have those beautiful murals and the painted tombs. Surely it would be better to echo the colours in those?'

'I agree,' Sylvia said. 'I think the colours of the murals and the tombs would look good. Rich reds and purples and pinks and blues. Quite excellent.'

'Who's the one with the experience here? Me. I'm the only one who is even a member of a society. Please allow me to know what is best.' They could see Sheila was beginning to lose her temper.

Adept at stepping in when storms were brewing, Peter cleared his throat and said, 'Were we celebrating Easter, marriage, baptism or confirmation then I'm quite sure Lady Bissett, that your idea of an all white display would be highly appropriate and very effective, but we are celebrating summer and the beauty of our church. Mrs Peel and I have been planning some very buoyant and cheerful music for our recital and I think that coloured arrangements would be more suitable at this time. We'll let the committee vote, shall we? Those in favour of coloured arrangements please signify.'

Every hand bar Lady Bissett's went up.

'That settles it then: arrangements reflecting the colours of the church. Now Lady Bissett, do you think that your society would do us the privilege of arranging the flowers? We would foot the bill for the flowers of course. Their expertise and your flair would I am sure provide a

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wonderful display. The money we raise will go towards urgent church repairs. I wish we were well enough off to give it for charity, but I'm afraid that's not possible. I think cups . . .'

'Just a moment Mr Chairman, I haven't said yes.'

'I'm so sorry, I thought you'd accepted the decision of the Committee.'

'I have not. The way I feel at the moment I could very well say that I won't have anything to do with the Festival at all.'

'Come now Sheila, you can't have everything all your own way,' Mrs Peel objected.

'If it's about flowers I can. I've worked my fingers to the bone over the church flowers and now when it comes to the best bit, my wishes are completely disregarded. It's not fair. I think all white arrangements would set off the colours in the church beautifully.'

Peter, trying to be as diplomatic as possible, argued that the committee had voted and they had to take the decision of the majority.

Sheila drew herself up and said with tight lips, 'I know why they voted like they did. It's not because they didn't want white flowers, it's because they don't want me.'

'That's hardly fair, Sheila. We all know we couldn't manage without you,' Harriet protested.

'Well Rector, the decision is yours. Either we have all white flowers and I do it or you have coloured ones and someone else does it. I would have thought that you of all people would have backed me up.'

'We are doing this to help the church, not to satisfy our own egos, and I feel that . . .'

'Are you saying I'm wanting my own way for the glory of it?'

'No, not that at all. It's just that ..."

'Oh yes, you are. Well, that's that then. I shall have nothing to do with your festival at all. You can organise

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it all by yourselves and then we'll see what a mess you make of it. You'll soon be crawling to me to do it for you, but I shan't. I wash my hands of it completely.' Sheila stood up, pulled on her raincoat and stormed out of the vestry.

'Sheila won't you recon . . .' But Peter's words went unnoticed.

The remainder of the committee sat silently for a moment gathering their thoughts.

'We've done it now, Peter,' Harriet murmured.

'It looks very much like it. But it's no good, I don't honestly think all white would be a good idea.'

'Neither do I. I have a friend,' Sylvia said quietly, 'who is a member of a flower arrangement society and I'm sure she would be delighted at the opportunity to organise a festival in such a lovely church as we have here. She would accept it as a real challenge and she's very talented. Would you like me to put it to her?'

'That sounds a very good idea, don't you think so Mrs Peel?' Harriet said, seeking support.

'Indeed I do. We've all had enough of being bossed about by Sheila Bissett.'

'I don't think we should be too critical. She has put in a lot of work while I've been here.' Peter shuffled his papers together and suggested that Sylvia should contact her friend and perhaps could let him know the outcome as soon as possible. With that the meeting closed.

Sheila spent the next morning in readiness for Peter coming to apologise and agree to her suggestions. She'd plumped the cushions, vacuumed the carpet, rearranged the flowers, and given her houseplants a spray of leaf shine. She'd dusted the coffee table, left a few of her flower magazines on it and put some new drops of essence in the pot pourri on the bar. Should she offer him a drink or would it be better just to offer coffee? Coffee

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would be best. Sheila got her best coffee set out in readiness.

When it got to one o'clock and he still hadn't come she knew she'd lost. 'Ron, who else could they get to do it? They'll be cancelling the whole thing next, just you wait and see.' But in the church newsletter the following Sunday the date and details of the festival were announced. Sheila seethed with annoyance. 'I shan't be going to church any more. That's the thanks you get for being a stalwart. Christian indeed! Some Christian that Peter Harris is. That's definitely settled it. I'll get my own back and I know how.'

She didn't tell anyone how she intended doing this, but the very next morning she was in Harriet's tearoom nice and early. She settled herself at the table in the window, waiting for a suitable listener.

She didn't wait long. Before the morning was out a considerable number of the villagers were convinced that Peter was the father of the twins whom he and Caroline were adopting. Sheila had started it off by questioning the babies' parentage. 'Isn't it odd how much like the rector little Alexander is? It's a funny coincidence isn't it, seeing as how Suzy's husband had dark hair? Before it had been passed on more than a few times it had become a fact.

Harriet overheard two of her customers talking about it in the Post Office queue.

'And Lady Bissett says that she knows for a fact that the twins are the rector's own.'

'No! Well, I don't believe that. Surely to goodness, it can't be true.'

'Well, she says it is. Says how little Alex is so like the rector they can't deny it. And he is yer know.'

'Well, he is the same colouring I expect. Well I never, whatever next.'

'Rector having a bit on the side, takes some swallow—

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ing that does.'

'It's Dr Harris I feel sorry for. If it's true I think she's been very brave taking them on.'

'So do I.'

'Question is, who do we really want, a lovely young rector who's strayed a bit or that Lady Bissett as she likes to be called. I know who I prefer.'

'Well yer right there, that Lady Bissett isn't half a pain in the arse. He's lovely and he's worked so 'ard since he came, what with the Cubs and the Brownies and the Women's Meeting and the pensioners' Luncheon Club. I don't know how we managed with that old faggot Mr Furbank. It was time the good Lord gathered 'im to His bosom and no mistake. My turn is it Linda? Two second class stamps. Thanks.'

Harriet at her first opportunity went in search of Jimbo. He was sitting worrying over his accounts.

'It's no good you know. The restaurant is not pulling its weight. I shall have to think seriously about . . . Why whatever's the matter?'

'Jimbo I don't know what to do. Two of the customers have been saying that Sheila Bissett has said that Alex and Beth are Peter's.'

'We know they're Peter's; they're adopting them.'

'No, they mean actually
Peter's.
You know, that he's the real father and that's why they've adopted them.'

'You mean Suzy Meadows and Peter . . . No, no, no. I don't believe it. That can't be right. Peter would never let Caroline down like that. I mean God, he's the rector. No, of course he wouldn't. Absolutely not. I'll have a word with Peter, man to man when we go for our run in the morning. Devil of a job bringing up the subject though. But this gossip will have to be stopped. I can't believe it's true. Spreading lies like that. The woman's malicious.'

'I know why she's done it, it's because we wouldn't do

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as she said about the Flower Festival. She expected Peter would go running round next morning and apologise and beg her to run it, but he didn't because Sylvia Bennett asked a friend of hers to do it and she's jumped at the chance.'

'I feel desperately sorry for Caroline. Do you suppose it really is true and she doesn't know it?'

'I haven't the faintest idea. We are good friends, but she wouldn't tell me something like that would she? It's much too private.'

Whenjimbo met Peter the next morning he wasn't quite sure how to broach the subject. Then Peter himself mentioned Sheila Bissett, saying she'd resigned and how difficult it made things.

Almost as an aside Jimbo asked, 'Have you heard the rumour she's spreading as her revenge?'

'No. What is she saying?'

Jimbo stopped by a farm gate and leant on it. 'Let's have a rest before we turn back.'

Peter wiped the sweat off his face with the sleeve of his running shirt and said, 'Well?'

Jimbo, breathing heavily as much from the quandary in which he found himself as from the running he'd done, looked Peter straight in the face and came out with Sheila's malicious gossip.

'No good beating about the bush. I feel very awkward telling you this, but you've got to know. Sheila Bissett is spreading the story that your Beth and Alex are really yours and Suzy's . . . you know . . . that you well, you are their real father. That's why you're adopting them. There, that's it in a nutshell.'

Peter went pale, turned his head away from Jimbo's direct glance and said quietly, 'What's that old saying? "Be sure your sins will find you out."' He leant on the gate looking across the fields towards Sykes Wood. 'We

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didn't have an affair. It happened the week Patrick died. She was desperate for comfort and I have to admit I was stunned by her, quite stunned. Then I found out she was expecting twins and I thought it was the end of everything, my marriage, my vocation everything. Caroline was magnificent, said it wasn't to be allowed to make any difference to us. We were partners for life and she wouldn't permit something like that to separate us. What Suzy longed for and planned for, was that Caroline would want to adopt the twins, and that's exactly what she did want.'

Jimbo silently absorbed what Peter had said. God! What a situation. What was there to say? He waited a while for Peter to compose himself and then said in a matter of fact tone, 'Then you've nothing to fear: the two of you can stand together on this. I know in my heart that the whole village will be behind you. They don't like Sheila Bissett, but they do love you and Caroline.'

'I promised Suzy faithfully that we would never disclose the truth, just as she promised us that she would never tell, either. How has the woman found out?'

'She's put two and two together and made five. That's what.'

'I must get straight home.' Peter turned away from the gate and set off at such a cracking pace that Jimbo couldn't keep up. When he got back to the Rectory, Peter went straight up to the bathroom for his shower. He arrived in the kitchen for his breakfast already dressed in his cassock for the regular Friday morning school assembly in the church.