The Village Show (Tales from Turnham Malpas) (2 page)

‘Oh yes, I just wish I had half her energy. I think Peter’s quite glad to see her go! She’s been in his study trying to reorganise his files. He’s really very patient with her.’

‘They were saying how much they’d enjoyed staying with you.’

‘They love seeing the children. Our two are their only grandchildren so far, you see. Their complaint is they don’t see enough of them with living so far away.’

‘Pity the weather wasn’t a little better for them while they were here.’

‘They don’t really mind. Just glad to have a rest, if you can call it a rest, living in the same house as two two-year-olds!’

Sheila laughed. ‘I see your point! I’m really looking forward to this Show. Such a good thing for the village, Mr Fitch coming – isn’t it, Caroline?’

‘It is. He’s certainly stirring us up! First the Bonfire Night Party and now the Show. Before we know where we are, Mr Fitch will be thinking he’s Lord of the Manor.’ The three of them laughed, but they each acknowledged there was a ring of truth in what Caroline had said.

A cold draught announced the arrival of Jeremy. He waddled in swathed in a huge mackintosh and heavy leather boots, which made him appear more mountainous than ever. ‘Hello, hello, ladies. Ah, coffee! Just what I need.’

Caroline handed him his cup and said, ‘Jeremy, I don’t think you’ve met Louise Bissett, Lady Bissett’s daughter. She’s agreed to be secretary for the Show. Brave girl!’

Jeremy extended his fat, sweating hand to Louise. ‘Good evening, nice to meet you. Brave indeed! Having a taste of country air for a change, eh?’

‘Something like that. You’re Mr Fitch?’

‘No, no, wish I was. My wife Venetia and I run the Big House on behalf of Mr Fitch’s company. He uses it as a training centre for his staff.’

‘I see. So you employ secretaries and the like?’

‘Yes, we do. Is that what you are?’

‘Well, I’m in banking really but I’ve got secretarial skills. So think of me if ever you need anyone. I’m organising the rector at the moment, lending a hand here and there, you know.’

Jeremy laughed and patted her arm. ‘Lucky man to have such a charming assistant!’

Caroline agreed. ‘Yes, he is. Louise is doing a sterling job with the church magazine. She’s also just started distributing the new church telephone directory which she’s compiled. We must let Jeremy have a copy, mustn’t we, Louise, then if he needs any of us, he has the numbers to hand.’

‘I’ll drop a copy in for you tomorrow.’ She beamed at him.

‘Thank you kindly. Thank you very much. Show you round if you like when you come up.’

‘Lovely! I’ve only seen the house from a distance; it’ll be great to see inside it. Thank you.’

They chose chairs next to each other and Sheila sat on the other side of Louise. The outside door opened and in came the rest of the committee – Bryn Fields deep in conversation with Michael about the merits of being a Free House, Barry talking to Jimbo about the marquee for the food and Linda from the post office bringing up the rear on her own.

‘Coffee, everyone, before we start.’ They gathered round exchanging pleasantries, and then finally settled in their chairs to begin the meeting.

‘As secretary, and due to the feet we don’t appear to have elected a chairperson, shall I take the lead?’ Louise looked round the group, meeting everyone’s eyes and waiting for an affirmative. They all agreed with nods.

Louise cleared her throat, and in a decisive voice opened the meeting. ‘Firstly and most importantly we have to decide on a site. Mr Fitch, who initiated this idea, has decided that he wants it on the lawns in front of the Big House and in Home Farm field. He’ll open up an adjoining field for car parking, he says. Frankly, I don’t think we have any choice, do you?’

Michael Palmer agreed. ‘Let’s face it, there isn’t anywhere else at all where the ground is level enough nor where there is such good access.’

‘There’s always Rector’s Meadow,’ Bryn suggested.

‘Rector’s Meadow – where’s that?’ Louise asked.

Jeremy supplied her with the answer. ‘Part of the estate.
It borders Pipe and Nook Lane behind the rectory, and runs along the back of the gardens at the rear of the Big House. It would be a good-sized area, but the access is so poor. Pipe and Nook is very narrow – let’s face it, it’s only an access road for the garages at the back of the rectory and the other houses. And there’s no proper road from the other side, only a cart-track. At least down the main drive cars can pass each other.’

‘Rector’s Meadow? Isn’t that where the village cricket pitch used to be, Jeremy?’

‘I wouldn’t know, Jimbo, sorry.’

Louise looked round the committee for enlightenment but no one could answer so she again suggested the grounds of the Big House. ‘All in favour?’

‘Unanimous!’

Linda giggled. ‘Let’s hope they clear all the cowpats away before the big day! There be dozens of cows in there at the moment.’

Jeremy frowned. ‘I’m quite sure that matter will be attended to long before the day. Mr Fitch doesn’t want anything to spoil the Show, he’s set his heart on it being the success of the year.’

Caroline and Sheila exchanged a smile.

‘Now we must settle the date. Mr Fitch suggests the tenth or seventeenth of July. Any opinions?’

Jimbo checked his diary and said he preferred the seventeenth.

Michael Palmer said he thought that by then a lot of the children would have gone on holiday. He preferred the tenth.

‘It’s too soon after Stocks Day,’ Sheila commented.

Michael disagreed. ‘Well, there’s not much work associated with Stocks Day and it’ll be a good chance
to advertise it, won’t it?’ he responded. ‘All those people coming for Stocks Day, we could hand out leaflets.’

‘It’s agreed then, the tenth?’ Louise waited for a show of hands, and the decision was carried seven to two. She made a note on her pad and then expanded on Mr Fitch’s ideas. ‘This Show is a huge responsibility. There hasn’t been one the size of this ever before, not even the ones they had before the Second World War. He wants a really big Show – an arena with events going on all afternoon, competitions displayed in a marquee, another marquee for teas and the like,’ she nodded at Jimbo who inclined his head in acknowledgement, ‘stalls which charities could man, ice cream, beer, you name it. He wants a Show with plenty of get up and go, not some kind of damp squib which will fizzle out halfway through the afternoon. It’s got to be the show of shows, to put Turnham Malpas on the map once and for all.’

Michael Palmer said, ‘Well, the school’s contribution will be a display of Maypole dancing. I know it’s not May Day but it looks so colourful and we have enough children for two Maypoles. Then we shall have a gym sequence by the Top Juniors, followed by country dancing. Somehow we’ll need to rig up a piano and a microphone for Mrs Hardaker to accompany it.’

‘I’ll make a note of that.’ Louise jotted down a memo.

‘I’m also willing to run a children’s fancy dress competition. That will bring plenty of parents.’

‘Thanks, Michael, that sounds great. You’re just the right person for that. Do we have any other ideas?’

Bryn proffered an idea he’d been mulling over for a long while. ‘I thought one of the events we should have in the arena could be a tug of war – you know, The Royal Oak throws down the challenge to The Jug and Bottle in Penny
Fawcett or something – and I’d give a barrel of beer as the prize. I’d organise it. It would encourage the Penny Fawcett people to come, wouldn’t it?’

Raising her voice above the babble of conversation Louise said, ‘A very good idea. That’s what we want, things to draw in the crowds. Could you be in charge of overseeing
all
the events in the arena, Bryn, do you think? We need someone to coordinate it all. You’ll need to liaise with the organisers.’

‘Well, I’m a comparative newcomer – perhaps there might be someone else who would prefer to do it? Michael?’

‘To be honest I think I’ll have enough to do keeping an eye on the children, and when you look round this committee, apart from Barry I’m the only person who
isn’t
a comparative newcomer, so I don’t see it matters. You go ahead, Bryn.’

When the question of the marquees came up, Jeremy’s advice was requested.

‘Well, I have the name and address of the chappie who did the marquee for the Bonfire Party we had. He was excellent, very helpful and really quite reasonably priced. I’ll see to that, if you like. How many and how big?’

Jimbo asked for one the same size as the one they’d used for the Bonfire Party. ‘I’m not very good at measurements, but the chap will have it in his records, won’t he? That should be big enough.’

‘For the competition tent, I’m afraid I shall need one much bigger than that.’ They all looked at Sheila.

‘Bigger than that?’

‘But it was enormous.’

‘Surely not!’

‘It’s not Chelsea Flower Show, yer know.’

Barry scoffed, ‘Come off it, Sheila, what the heck! You could have got three double-decker buses in that marquee Jimbo had. Half the size’ll be big enough. Next thing, Linda’ll be wanting one that size for her first-aid tent.’

Linda giggled and said, ‘Yes, if you like. You never know, there might be an outbreak of food-poisoning and I’ll need loads of space for beds!’

Jimbo protested sharply. ‘There won’t be
any
food-poisoning if I’m catering, believe you me!’

Linda blushed. ‘I was only joking, Mr Charter-Plackett. Me of all people should know how careful you are about food hygiene.’

‘So I should think.’

Sheila turned indignantly to Barry and scathingly commented, ’And what do you know about it, Barry Jones? Nothing. If I say I want a bigger marquee, a bigger marquee I want. So write that down, Louise.’ She pointed energetically at her daughter’s notepad.

‘Got the chairperson in your pocket, have yer, Sheila? Favouritism, that’s what it is. Favouritism. We’ll have a vote.’ Barry raised his arm and bellowed, ‘All in favour of Sheila having a marquee the same size as Mr Charter-Plackett’s.’

Sheepishly everyone’s hand went up, apart from Louise and Sheila.

Furious at losing, Sheila retaliated with, ‘Very well then, but don’t blame me if the tent is so crowded, visitors faint with the heat. Some people,’ glaring at Barry, ‘have no understanding of these things. The flowers will wilt and the vegetables will be dried to a crisp. I had such plans … But as we are democratic and it’s gone to the vote, then so be it.’

Caroline intercepted the look Sheila gave Barry as she
spoke. She could tell the matter wasn’t really closed as far as Sheila was concerned.

‘The next item on the agenda is the stalls,’ Louise announced. ‘Barry, would you like a word about your plans? I understand Mr Fitch has spoken to you about them.’

Barry stood up, took a piece of folded paper from his trouser pocket, and after examining it closely he began to speak. ‘Yes, I’ve had a consultation with Mr Fitch and he says I’ve to go ahead with my own ideas and he’ll fall in with whatever I’ve planned, keeping in mind a certain amount of restraint regarding cost. Which really means I’ve to account to him for every penny
before
I spend it. The idea I’ve come up with is that all the stalls shall be the same size—’

Sheila interrupted him. ‘Oh no, that would look boring. They want to be all different.’

‘Just let me finish, please. As I was saying, the stalls will all be the same size and will all be done up as if it was a mediaeval Show. They’ll have small roofs over them and be decorated with crêpe paper all the same colours and quite close together.
Not
spread out all over the field. If yer spread ’em out, people won’t bother to walk to some of ’em and those ones won’t take much money, but if they’re together in, say, three sides of a square they’ll look more effective. We’ll have flags flying on top of the stalls and that. The estate will make them all and then store them somewhere for next time. I’m recruiting some boys from the village to help put them up during the week before, so there’s no need to worry about that.’ Barry sat down and waited for some response.

Sheila spoke first. ‘Well, I’m sorry but no. It won’t do. All the charity people running the stalls will want to do their own thing …’

Barry interrupted. ‘And a right mess they’ll be, too. The only thing I intend letting them do is providing a sign across the front to say who they are – and even that’ll have to be to my measurements. Believe me, they’ll be glad to be relieved of the job of decorating them.’

Jimbo came down on Barry’s side. ‘Frankly I’m in wholehearted agreement with Barry, and my marquee shall be just how you want. Tell me the colours you’re using for the stalls and I’ll do the same with a bit of variation here and there.’

‘Boring, boring, boring.’ Sheila tugged indignantly at her skirt, pulling herself more upright in her chair. ‘You must be mad, Barry.’

‘Yer only getting back at me because I balked you from having a bigger marquee than Jimbo here. You know it makes sense.’

Louise called the meeting to order and Michael Palmer in his most conciliatory voice said quietly, ‘I’ve been to lots of Shows of this kind over the years, and the standard of decoration on the stalls has been quite appalling. They’ve just no idea. If Mr Fitch is willing to pay for all this, then I suggest we tall in with Barry’s plans. It will look very stylish.’