Village Secrets (6 page)

‘They’ll have to take a deep breath and swallow hard then.’

‘Don’t forget you’ve come up against their wrath once before.’

Mr Fitch gave Ralph a piercing look. ‘About the church silver, you mean?’ He flicked some ash from his cigar into the flames and paused for a moment. ‘It was only the effigy they made, hanging from the tree.’

‘And all the things going wrong here. The hearing being off for three days in the dead of winter, your tyres let down, the strike of the kitchen staff and the—’

‘You mean all that was engineered?’

‘Of course. Hadn’t you realised that?’

Unwilling to admit in front of Ralph that it had never occurred to him that the opposition from the village could be so vicious, he paused before replying. ‘Well, it had crossed my mind, naturally; it all did seem rather odd, but I didn’t take it seriously.’ He sat silently watching the flames leaping up his chimney. The devil they did.

Ralph said, ‘You’d have to be here fifty years at least before they accepted you, and unfortunately you’ve not got that much time left.’

Mr Fitch’s head came up with a jerk. ‘Neither have you.’

‘True, true, but then I’m one step ahead. I’m already accepted and have been for centuries.’

‘So they’ll take my money but not me?’

‘In a nutshell.’

‘Damn them!!’

‘That’s just it.’

‘What is?’

‘Your attitude.’

Craddock Fitch strode about the room, puffing furiously on his cigar, his brown gleaming shoes rapping sharply on the polished floor. He came to a halt on the huge round rug in front of the fire. As he stubbed out his cigar in the ash-tray on the coffee table he said, ‘You’re saying if I insist on being president I shall lose what little kudos I might have already gained?’

‘Something like that.’

‘Who are these people who think they can dictate to me?’

‘It is their village, their cricket team, not yours, not mine.’

‘At this rate there’ll be no progress.’

‘Not much.’

‘Well, I’m damned.’ Mr Fitch stabbed his well manicured hand in Ralph’s direction. ‘All right then, you be president, but my name goes above the pavilion door.
The Henry Craddock Fitch Pavilion
– that’ll sort ’em. No doubt who’s paid for it then, eh? And my company logo on the gear I buy – you know, “sponsored by et cetera”. Right?’

‘Done!’ They shook hands on the deal. Ralph glanced up at Mr Fitch, taking care to veil the twinkle in his eyes. ‘And you can donate a cup, if you like.’

‘Two! One to the batsman with the highest score in the season, and one to the bowler with the best average.’

‘Done! I’ll have another cup of tea, if I may. Now let’s get down to business. Finance first. Shall you want rent for me pavilion? I rather hope not, for the first year at least.’

Mr Fitch raised his eyebrows at Ralph’s outspokenness. ‘I don’t know how you got so high in the Diplomatic Service. There’s not much diplomacy about your dealings!’

‘Kiss, kiss, my darling children. Mummy’s off to make poorly people better, isn’t she? Now Beth, Mummy won’t be long. Sylvia’s going to take you and stay for a while aren’t you, Sylvia?’

‘Of course. Will you show me where the sand is, Beth? I love playing in the sand.’

Alex said, ‘Me will, Sylvie, me will. Me knows where the sand is. Beth doesn’t.’

Beth stamped her foot. ‘Beth does.’

‘Beth doesn’t ’cos you won’t play.’

‘I will.’

‘You won’t.’

‘That will do, children.
Please
. Now I’m going. Be good, and Mummy will have a present for you when she comes back.’

‘Beth not going.’ She sat down on the hall floor.

‘Sylvia! I really must go or I shall be late.’ Caroline kissed the two of them on the tops of their heads, and fled with her medical bag to her car.

Sylvia cheerfully went to get the children’s coats from the hall cupboard. ‘Now Alex, aren’t you going to have a lovely time in playgroup today? I wonder if they’ll have the sand out today for your Sylvie to play in. Or shall I play with the water? Do they have water to play with, Beth?’

Beth ignored her. She looked up when she saw her father’s feet appear beside her. He bent down and stood her up. ‘Coat on, Beth.’ She allowed him to dress her, then she took hold of Sylvia’s hand and set off without another word. Sylvia was greatly relieved. But the relief was short-lived. Within five minutes of arriving, Beth had disappeared. The playgroup door had been open for only a moment as another of the children arrived and Beth had slipped out. The moment she realised what had happened, Sylvia ran out of school but there was no sign of Beth.

Jimbo found her sitting on the same chair, sucking her thumb and rubbing her nose ‘with her lover, but this time there were no tears, only deep sadness.

‘Well now, Beth. Hello. Come to see Uncle Bimbo again? You left your Smarties last time. Shall we go get them?’ Beth ignored him. ‘Come with Uncle Bimbo, eh?’ It was as if he hadn’t spoken. He looked round the Store and asked a customer to keep an eye on her while he phoned Peter and the school.

Peter took her back to the classroom. Sylvia was out searching the playground, Liz Neal was distraught and Kate Pascoe was seething.

‘Really, Rector, again!’

‘Yes – again. I might add that my daughter is here under your protection. I can hardly be pleased with the way you’re carrying out your duties.’

‘I didn’t qualify in containing Houdinis – what teacher has? The only way to keep Beth in is to lock all the doors – which I resolutely refuse to do. This is
not
a prison. In any case, the playgroup is not strictly under my authority. Although I do everything I can to help, the actual responsibility is Mrs Neal’s. But the responsibility for your daughter’s personal safety is getting too much.’

Liz apologised. ‘I’m terribly sorry, Peter. I’ve never had this before. How about if we give her a break? Perhaps Alex going home and saying how much he enjoys himself might have a beneficial effect on her attitude. Or else it is that she’s just not quite ready. Not all children take to it as easily as Alex has.’

‘I think maybe you could be right. We’ll keep her at home this week and try to find out what the problem is. Thank you. I’m sorry for all the trouble.’

‘That’s all right. We can’t expect to run a playgroup without some hiccoughs.’

Kate returned to her class. Peter and Sylvia took Beth home. She ran through the door shouting, ‘Mummy! Mummy!’ When she couldn’t find Caroline she went to Sylvia, clutched hold of her skirt and never left her side all morning.

‘Beth is staying at home for the rest of the week.’

Caroline swallowed her last drop of coffee and said, ‘You’ve decided to keep her at home this week? Without consulting me?’

‘Yes.’

‘Peter!’

‘Her heart – her tender, loving heart is broken.’

‘She’ll soon get over it. Children can be like that – they don’t like change.’

‘I said her heart is broken.’

‘I heard.’

‘The pain is unbearable for her.’

‘Nonsense.’

‘I won’t have my decision altered. She is not going on either Wednesday or Friday.’

‘Just a moment. We are both of us her parents; decisions are joint ones.’

‘In this case, I’m sorry, but my decision is final. I cannot remember when I felt the need to assert my authority so positively, but that is what I’m doing now. She is not going this week. She is putting her life at risk to tell us she is unhappy. Do you realise that?
Her life at risk
. She has twice crossed Jacks Lane
on her own
, when she is far too young and far too distraught to have any road sense. It only needs Barry Jones to come hurtling round the corner like he frequently does and … and it will all be too late.’

‘This is arrogant interference in my domain.’

‘Broken hearts
are
my business.’

‘You’re being very dramatic.’

‘You didn’t see her face when she couldn’t find you when we got home.’

‘This is ridiculous. She loves Sylvia, she’ll be all right with her.’

‘It was I who made her go this morning, and I shouldn’t have done so. Look, Caroline, I don’t wish to discuss it any further. I shall be in my study if I’m needed.’ Peter stood up and pushed his chair under the table.

‘That’s right, hide in your study – you’ve had your say, trespassed where you shouldn’t, so off you go to avoid any further discussion.’ Peter looked down at her. It was her eyes which eventually avoided his. He turned on his heel and left the dining room.

Caroline began clearing the table. She caught the sound of Beth screaming as she crossed the hall. By the time she’d reached the bedroom, Beth was hysterical. Caroline hugged her tight, talking to her and trying to calm her fears. ‘Have you had a nasty dream? Never mind then, Mummy’s here, hush, hush, darling. There, there.’ Caroline rocked her back and forth, back and forth and gradually the cries subsided. When she’d wiped her tears away for her, Caroline asked what the matter was. ‘Can you tell Mummy what frightened you? Tell me, darling, please?’

‘Mrs Neal, it was Mrs Neal.’

‘She’s a lovely lady, a friend of Mummy’s.’

‘Mrs Neal gave me a present.’

‘Oh, how nice! That was a lovely dream, not a nasty one, surely.’

‘She gave me lots of …’ Beth sobbed. ‘She gave me lots of worms, wiggly worms, all wiggly in my ha-a-n-n-nd.’

‘Oh darling, I’m so sorry. But it was only a dream, you know. There aren’t any worms here really, are there? Look, see, open your eyes. No worms. Just a dream. Mummy will lie down on the bed and wait till you go back to sleep. How’s that?’ Beth clutched hold of her and closed her eyes. ‘No worms, Mummy?’

‘No worms, darling.’ It was ten minutes before Beth relaxed enough to go back to sleep.

Peter left Caroline with all the dishes to clear and stack, an activity which, if he hadn’t got an evening meeting, they usually did together. When she’d finished, she went in the sitting room to watch television. It was more than an hour before she heard Peter come out of the study. He didn’t come immediately into the sitting room but went to the kitchen. She could hear him putting on the kettle and getting out cups. This was his way, she knew, of making amends for his outburst. Well, he wasn’t going to get around her that way. Other women had careers and children! Why on earth shouldn’t she? She’d make it work. Beth would just have to get used to the idea that her mother had other things in her life besides children. Much as she loved her, she loved general practice too. She’d had to give it up when she and Peter got married and he’d moved parish; hospital work had been the easier option at the time. Though she’d liked the hospital, it wasn’t quite her métier. She was really enjoying general practice and
nothing
was going to stop her. Why shouldn’t she have two lives? They could well afford Sylvia …

‘Coffee, darling?’

‘Yes, please.’

Peter put down the tray in front of her, and sat a moment in silence before he poured it. ‘Instant, couldn’t be bothered with the other. You don’t mind?’

‘No, not at all.’

‘Ralph tells me he’s been up to the Big House and persuaded Mr Fitch not to be president of the cricket club. But he’s giving two cups and his name’s going above the pavilion.’

‘Oh, good – Mr Fitch will love that. Says something for Ralph’s expertise in diplomacy, don’t you think?’

‘Exactly. I’m looking forward to the summer. I always liked cricket. Here’s your coffee – is that all right?’

‘Yes, thank you. You’ll have to get back into your stride; you haven’t played a stroke since we’ve known each other.’

‘You’re right – I shall have to get my eye in again. My best score was forty-five against Magdalen way back in … Can’t remember.’

‘It’s no good, Peter.’

‘What isn’t?’

‘Trying to talk as though nothing has happened. It has, and I’m very annoyed.’

Peter put his cup back on the coffee table and, fidgeting with his wedding ring, sat waiting for her to speak again.

‘Why can’t I have the best of both worlds? Other women do. Other women are back at work after six weeks at home with a new baby. They have nannies organised or au pairs organised, and everything goes with a swing.’

‘Does it?’

‘Oh yes.’

‘On what do you base your assumption? Someone you know?’

Caroline sipped her coffee. ‘Well, no one specific but you do hear about them.’

‘In newspaper articles on the women’s page?’

‘Don’t sneer, Peter, it’s beneath you.’

‘You putting the needs of your child second is beneath you.’

‘So I’m to give up, am I? Let people down? Stay at home, play the role of Mummy ad infinitum? When shall I be allowed my life? When she’s gone to university?’

‘Now you’re being ridiculous.’

‘Ah! You’re not?’

‘No. Next time she makes it out of school, she may not go to Jimbo’s.’