Whispers in the Village (33 page)

When Sylvia released him, Peter answered, ‘Sylvia! Lovely to be back. The children, where are they?’

‘Don’t you fret. They’re just finishing a game of snakes and ladders with Willie. Strange really, they haven’t asked to play it for years and here they haven’t been back two minutes and they were asking for a game.’

‘Do them good.’

Sylvia couldn’t resist her need to know where they’d been all these weeks and asked straight out. ‘So where were they when they were missing?’

Caroline cleared her throat. ‘We can’t bear to talk about it just yet.’ There was a finality in her voice, which didn’t allow for anyone persuading them otherwise. So one of those strange silences fell where everyone present was thinking their own thoughts, but not for long because Beth and Alex returned. They stood in the hall, looking at them from the kitchen doorway and then went upstairs together without speaking.

Anna jumped up from her chair. ‘I’ve been sleeping in Beth’s bedroom. I’ll go get my things out, don’t want to upset her.’ She raced up the stairs to find Beth standing in her room looking out of the window.

‘I’m so sorry. If I’d known you were coming … I’ve been sleeping in here, you see. It’s been a lovely, welcoming bedroom. Thank you for the use of it. I’ve slept very well in here, but now I’m going to take all my bits and pieces out.’ Anna began by stripping the bed, and Beth didn’t answer her.

While Anna was clearing some books from the shelves, Beth said, ‘I never thought I’d stand here looking out at our garden ever again. I love this view. Mum’s flowers in our garden and then Pipe and Nook Lane and the ancient hedgerow. Lady Templeton once threatened to lie down in front of the tractor that was coming to pull it up, you know. And she did do it. Mr Fitch was horrified when he saw her. She won though. Most daring thing she’s ever done. Funny name, isn’t it, Pipe and Nook Lane? No one seems to know how it came about. Then Rector’s Meadow and then the Big House Wood the far side of it; it’s so beautiful in autumn. This was the view I thought about so often, it was all I had to hang on to.’ Beth fell silent.

‘I’m sorry for what you’ve been through. I can’t begin to imagine—’

‘Alex was so brave. If it hadn’t been for him—’

‘Well, you can put it all behind you now.’

‘Think so?’

‘If you get back to school …’

But Beth walked out of her room and up the attic stairs and left Anna to finish clearing out. Anna could have kicked herself for so thoughtlessly trying to encourage Beth to look forward to normality so soon. Of all the ridiculous things to have said. The sooner she was out of here the better, before she made any more stupid remarks. The child looked tortured beyond belief. Not perhaps physically but certainly mentally, and far too thin for a girl of fourteen. So what had Alex done that had somehow saved her sanity?

Anna left for Grandmama’s cottage immediately, but Sylvia stayed and shopped and put things where they belonged, and couldn’t wait to have a good clean-through, but not today. The rectory was far too fragile a place just now. It was in the air, in every room, a heavy cloud of distress, and the Harrises were almost speechless with a mixture of relief and terror. Sylvia was longing to know, but she had a feeling they wouldn’t be telling her because the pain was still too close, the wounds as yet too raw to touch.

She cooked them one of their favourite meals. Caroline protested but she insisted that was what she was going to do. That pecan pie they all loved to finish and before that a glorious beef casserole with mushrooms and lashings of wine, and those lovely floury jacket potatoes, which Sylvia was a genius at. Then she left, reluctantly, saying, ‘It’s Tuesday tomorrow so I shall be in as usual, to
clean
.’

It was only when she had left and got home that she cried. ‘It’s destroyed those two children. Destroyed them. They ought never to have gone.’

As soon as the door closed on Sylvia, Peter said he was going to the church. He’d wanted to go ever since they’d got home but the phone had rung constantly and he hadn’t known how to cope with the silence of the twins and he felt so dreadfully concerned about Caroline that he daren’t leave her. But Caroline urged him to go while he had the chance; she’d be OK and the children were watching TV. She knew the guilt he felt at having suggested going to Africa and bringing about this near catastrophe.

Peter went to the old familiar drawer in his desk and took out the keys to the church. He cradled the huge key to the main door in his hand, feeling it might hold the answer to his torment.

The church had been locked at five o’clock by Zack the verger, so when Peter entered it felt chilling. He looked straight to the altar where the small light was burning as always. Slowly Peter walked down the aisle, savouring every pew, every echo of his footsteps, every flagstone under his feet, every kneeler so lovingly restored by the W.I. embroiderers, every rafter above his head, every ancient tattered flag hanging from them.

When he arrived at the altar steps, he smiled at Sheila’s small weekday flower arrangement on the table. To him it represented the whole village welcoming him home, and there he knelt, hands together in prayer, feeling like a lost soul finally, despite all his tribulations, arriving home where he belonged.

He’d knelt there praying for more than an hour when he sensed the door open and footsteps, his darling Caroline’s footsteps, coming towards him. She didn’t interrupt him, just stood with a hand on his shoulder, waiting. Peter bowed his head, indicating he’d finished and Caroline said softly, ‘Darling, you’ll catch your death in here. Come home. Jimbo and Harriet have come, and they’ve got big news for you. You can always come back tomorrow.’

He got to his feet, stiff and aching with kneeling so long. When she looked in his face she thought she caught a tiny glimmer of his enduring inner light, and she was glad.

‘Are they jolly?’

‘Of course. What else? They’re so glad we’re home.’

‘And the children?’

‘It’s really time they were in bed after such a long day, but I’m saying nothing at all. They sleep so little at the moment, for now it’s best to leave it to them.’

Peter locked the main door and paused to look up at the sky. ‘Remember those fantastic sunsets we used to see?’

‘Of course.’

‘But … other things … crowded out the pleasure.’

‘You have to remember the wonderful support your congregation gave you. Remember Elijah and how hard he tried to find Alex and Beth; it was his clues that helped us find them. The children owe their lives to our neighbours and friends. Remember what a tower of strength Winsome was. Don’t forget the triumphs we had, the joy of such enthusiastic Christians.’

‘Of course. But whyever I felt the need to drag my family into such hell I shall never know.’

‘We all went willingly, and we didn’t know it would turn into hell. What’s more, we needed to go. It’s been a kind of cleansing for me. I’ve seen what other people’s lives can be like and it’s taught me to be grateful for the peace we enjoy, and the security and love that surrounds us. You know, ever since the twins were born, I’ve been carrying a load of emotional baggage, which I’ve never been able to rid myself of. The children meeting their real mother for the first time was almost unendurable for me. I was glad to go away and get some perspective on it. But here I am, I’ve survived and I’m stronger for it. And much happier. So let’s wipe the slate clean. Make a new start.’

Peter smiled at Caroline, took her hand and said, ‘Thank you for saying that.’

Patiently waiting for them were Harriet and Jimbo watching TV in the sitting room with Alex and Beth.

Jimbo had his bottle of Irish whiskey prominently on display. He got to his feet to shake hands with Peter saying, ‘My God, man. Am I glad to have you back.’ Then he took Caroline into his arms and hugged and kissed her. ‘We’ve waited for this day. Believe me. Anna’s been brilliant in the circumstances but it was the two of you we wanted back. As for you, Alex, I swear you’ve grown at least a foot since we saw you last. And Beth, I think you get prettier by the day.’

Alex turned off the TV and they all sat down again.

Peter said, ‘It’s great to be back. We feel as though we’ve been away for years, and it’s only a matter of months.’

‘Well now, I’ve brought this very precious bottle of Irish whiskey I was given and I intend that we all drink a toast to friends and home. It’s a very special malt, rarely obtainable. How about it?’

Peter got the glasses out of the dining-room sideboard and carried them in on a tray with a jug of water. There were six whiskey glasses.

Caroline protested, ‘Peter, surely not for Alex and Beth.’

‘Just for the toast, I insist.’

Beth declared she doubted if she would like it.

Alex said, ‘Am I grown up, then?’

Peter studied him. ‘Judging by what you’ve done this last few weeks, I think you must be.’

Harriet longed to ask what had Alex done, but daren’t. There felt to be a complete embargo on mentioning the Africa question.

Jimbo proposed the toast. ‘To all of us, glad to be reunited, to Turnham Malpas for being so stout-hearted in the absence of their rector and his wife, and to Anna Sanderson who has so manfully held us together.’

Caroline asked, ‘Did you need to be held together?’

‘Oh yes, at times. My mother, bless her dear heart, got arrested when she got drunk in Culworth, in the middle of the day too, which seemed to make it worse, and—’

Caroline almost choked on her drink with surprise. ‘Your mother! What on earth for?’

So gradually all the stories came out: Neville Neal in a red wig and smart dressing gown at the pyjama party; Greta Jones doing the cancan; Grandmama Charter-Plackett’s Jaffa-coloured hair; Paddy Cleary driving the bus into Culworth – Paddy Cleary? Who’s he?; the fire at Glebe House; the car in the pond; the two policemen at the skinny-dipping in Jimbo’s pool – You mean, naked? And so it went on. Both Caroline and Peter, to say nothing of the twins, were totally amazed.

Peter wanted to know who had organized it all and Harriet had to confess it was the W.I.

At this everyone by the name of Harris went into explosions of laughter. It was a few minutes before they could speak.

‘All this going on when we were away. What we missed! Oh my word.’ Peter couldn’t help himself, he had to ask. ‘Tell me, why was your mother drunk with Jaffa-coloured hair?’

So the sponsored hair-dyeing competition was brought to light. The thought of dignified Mrs Charter-Plackett with orange hair was almost too much for Alex and Beth, and they reeled about on the sofa, helpless with laughter.

Jimbo refilled glasses, intending to relax everyone even more.

‘All this to raise money for the mission?’

Harriet answered. ‘Oh yes. Sheila Bissett has been an absolute gem. Everything meticulously organized except …’

Caroline prompted her. ‘Yes?’

‘Except when … Oh, well, never mind, another time.’

‘I insist.’ Caroline patted Harriet’s knee. ‘Come on.’

Harriet glanced briefly at Jimbo and decided confession time had arrived. ‘This whiskey you are drinking is not the bottle Jimbo was given.’

Jimbo grabbed the bottle to read the label. ‘It is.’

‘No, darling, it isn’t. We found ourselves yesterday with no thank you gift for Craddock Fitch for the champagne race party so I gave him yours.’

Jimbo got to his feet, shocked. ‘What? But that was only yesterday. Where’s this come from?’

‘Culworth this morning. That high-priced wine merchant, fortunately for me, had a couple of bottles in. I didn’t need a haircut at all, I was going for the whiskey. So pour us another one and we’ll toast wives, ever the deceivers.’

So they toasted wives and then had another toast to the race afternoon, when it had been explained.

‘So these were all the charity events you mentioned?’

‘That’s right.’

Alex interrupted their conversation saying, ‘Mum, I’m taking Beth upstairs, I think she’s drunk.’

‘Good idea. She very probably is. Mind she doesn’t fall. Oh dear, no more whiskey for her for a while. Whoops! Night-night, darlings, sleep tight.’

‘Goodnight.’

‘Goodnight.’

Caroline watched them leave and as soon as she knew they couldn’t hear what she was saying she explained, ‘Hoped the whiskey might help them sleep. They’re so uptight over it all. They haven’t had a full night’s sleep for weeks.’

After the children had gone Jimbo said, ‘One day perhaps you’ll be able to tell us all about it. I did think a couple of whiskies might just help, but perhaps another time, eh?’

Glass in hand, Peter replied, ‘Another time. Suffice to say for the moment that the children were hidden for weeks in a wood by some of our congregation. They were fed as best the people could, seeing as they themselves were starving because of the fighting. The whole situation was horrifying. We didn’t know whether the children were alive or dead. They’d escaped the attack on the car and managed to run away in the dark. Eventually Caroline and I set off with backpacks to hunt for them, found them and then we too couldn’t get away. Two soldiers who’d been in our congregation came across us quite by chance and where we’d expected instant death we found ourselves being cared for and helped to get away. They took terrible risks on our behalf. We can never repay them for what they did.’