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Authors: Andrew Taylor

Tags: #Mystery, #Thriller, #Historical

The Judgement of Strangers (30 page)

BOOK: The Judgement of Strangers
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‘It makes a good story, though. And you’d have looked very fetching in the uniform.’

Joanna ignored him. She opened the passenger door and tried to lift the base of the bundle on to the seat. Toby and I went to help her. The nearer I came to her the more unsettled I felt.

‘How’s the family?’ Toby asked me.

‘Fine, thank you.’

‘And Vanessa’s research?’

‘Quite well, I think.’ I was aware, as lovers are aware, that Joanna was listening. ‘It takes up most of her spare time, though.’

‘Odd to think of a dead poet coming between man and wife,’ Toby said with a smile. ‘And Rosemary’s still working hard?’

I nodded. ‘You’ll probably see her. She’s here. She’s acting as Audrey’s right-hand woman.’

Toby edged Joanna out of the way. He bent down and hoisted the bundle on to the seat. ‘If I push it upwards, could you sort of guide it out of the sun roof? It’s not as heavy as it looks.’

We extracted the tent from the car and carried it round to the garden, with Joanna following. I glanced up at Rosemary’s window, but I could not see if she were watching us. I explained where Audrey wanted the tent to go – in the corner of the garden where the churchyard wall joined the boundary wall of Roth Park. I offered to help but Toby said he was better off by himself, at least at first.

‘I’ll let you know, though, when I need a second pair of hands.’

‘I’ll go and put the kettle on.’

‘Is there anything I can do?’ Joanna said, looking at me. ‘For the fete, I mean.’

‘I’m not sure.’ I hesitated. ‘We could ask Audrey. She’s in the dining room.’

The dining room overlooked the back of the house, and I guessed that Audrey was monitoring developments in the garden. Joanna and I walked sedately across the lawn to the back door, keeping a safe distance apart from each other. We went into the house. The door from the kitchen to the hall was closed. Keeping well back from the window and to one side of it, I turned to Joanna. She put her hands on my shoulders, stared at me for a moment and then kissed me slowly and gently.

‘I feel like a bee,’ she said, ‘sucking honey from a flower. Does that sound stupid?’

‘No.’ If she had said that the moon was made of solid silver, that would not have sounded stupid either. She smelt of mown grass and cigarettes. We kissed again, keeping our bodies apart.

At last she drew away from me. ‘You’d better put the kettle on. And I suppose I’d better go and find Miss Oliphant.’

‘Don’t go.’

‘No, not yet.’ She watched me filling the kettle and putting it on the ring. ‘David?’

‘Mm?’

‘I can’t bear this. Not being with you all the time. Not even making love properly.’

‘I know.’ I thought of what the future might contain: leaving the priesthood, divorcing Vanessa, finding some other job – and in that instant all that seemed as irrelevant as an old skin seems to a snake. What did it matter, as long as Joanna and I could be together?

‘I’m scared,’ she said.

I reached for her hand.

‘I want everything from you,’ she said slowly. ‘I want your children. That’s why we have to make love before it’s too late.’

‘Too late?’

‘You know what I mean. Just in case …’

I played with her fingers.
Make love now, just in case we have no future?
But we would have a future. Of course we would.
But just in case?

‘All right.’ My voice was hoarse.

‘You mean you will? Properly?’

I cleared my throat. ‘Yes.’

‘This evening?’

‘We’ve got the Vintners coming round.’

‘Tomorrow, then?’

‘There’s the fete. I’ll have to be on parade for that. And afterwards there’ll be your party. Won’t you be very busy with that?’

She shook her head. ‘Toby’s ordered stacks of booze and crisps and things. He’s hiring glasses. It’s not as if there’s any point in our cleaning the house. So there’s nothing to do. We’ll just let people get on with it.’

‘It’ll be getting dark by then.’

Her eyes gleamed; they looked greener and deeper than ever. ‘And if it’s fine we’ll be in the garden as well as the house. I’m sure we can slip away. And if we don’t manage then, we’ll manage afterwards.’

I nodded. I wanted her now.

‘We’ll have to be careful about Toby, though,’ she said. ‘He’s so sharp, especially where something like this is concerned.’

I felt a spurt of anger: something like what? Did his sister often have clandestine affairs with married men?

‘He can be very malicious,’ Joanna went on.

‘Then why do you stay with him?’

My voice was suddenly harsh. I was not angry with her. I was jealous of past lovers, furious with Toby for making his sister afraid, and desperate to have more of Joanna than at present I could.

She moved away from me. ‘There are reasons.’ It was as if a light had gone out behind her face. ‘I will tell you. But not now.’

‘Why not?’

‘This isn’t the right time.’

‘But you would leave him, wouldn’t you? You would leave him to come with me?’

She smiled at me and ran her fingers through her hair. ‘Yes. If you still wanted me.’

‘Is it that bad?’

She did not speak.

‘Joanna. Please tell me.’

She looked up at me and I saw the tears in her eyes.

‘I love you,’ I said.

‘David –’

The door opened and Audrey came into the kitchen. Apart from a reluctance to meet my eyes, she betrayed no sign of the last conversation that we had had.

‘Hello, Joanna. Come to help? Are you any good at lettering notices? Oh jolly good! You’ve put the kettle on. I’m dying for a cup of tea.’

33
 

When I woke on Saturday morning, rain was rattling on the windowpane. I drew back the curtains. Black clouds hung low over the green and spread out to the eastern horizon, threatening London. Traffic threw up a fine spray as it passed up and down the main road, and puddles dotted the gravel of the Vicarage drive.

At breakfast, Vanessa said cheerfully, ‘So it looks like the church hall, doesn’t it?’

I stared out of the window at the back garden. Toby’s tent stood forlornly in the far corner, its canvas stained with damp. The church hall was Audrey’s contingency plan for wet weather. Some of our attractions, such as the barbecue, would have to be abandoned. There would not be room for many members of the public, either, even if they felt like trekking through the rain across the green from the paddock of Roth Park to the church hall.

The telephone rang. It was Audrey.

‘We shall just have to pray for a miracle,’ she said, her voice shrill. ‘I simply can’t
believe
this wretched weather.’

Whether Audrey prayed or not, the miracle duly appeared: by half past nine, it had stopped raining; and by ten o’clock, the dark clouds were receding over London, while blue sky was coming in from the west. By half past ten, the Vicarage felt as crowded as a railway terminal in the rush hour.

The sun had broken through the clouds and the grass was steaming. Stalls were going up all over the lawn, according to Audrey’s directions. After a while, I realized that I was redundant – in fact, that my presence was actually impeding people because they felt they had to consult me or merely make conversation. I retired to the study, where I angled my chair so I could see out of the window. Joanna and Toby were not due to arrive until after lunch, but there was always the possibility that they might change their plans.

The room felt alien to me. Joanna had that effect. She had cut me adrift in my old life, made me a foreigner in a country which had once been my home. I looked at the shabby cloak hanging on the back of the door, at the books – rows and rows of theology, at the stack of parish magazines on the windowsill and finally at the crucifix on the wall. All these things belonged to another person in another life; they were no longer familiar.

Towards lunchtime, Vanessa stormed into the study. I felt a stab of guilt that she had caught me doing nothing. Not that she noticed. She was carrying the tin box in her arms and her face was flushed.

‘I’m going upstairs to our bedroom,’ she told me. ‘And I do not want to be disturbed for anything short of an earthquake.’

‘What’s up?’

‘I’ve been trying to work in the sitting room, but people keep coming in and asking me for things. If it isn’t Audrey, it’s James; and if it isn’t him, it’s Ted Potter. I may be your wife, but I’m not a parish amenity.’ She grinned at me. ‘I feel better for getting that off my chest. You know where I am if you want me.’

I heard her footsteps on the stairs. I knew that people like Audrey thought that Vanessa was an unsuitable wife for a parish priest. What would they think of Joanna? My mind filled with the memory of her on Thursday afternoon – naked in the wood, sprawling on the blanket, smiling wantonly up at me. My body began to respond to the memory. This would never do. I got up and went to the kitchen to make myself some coffee.

James Vintner poked his head through the open window. ‘Got any paraffin?’

‘I’m afraid not.’

‘I can’t get this damn charcoal to light. Want to have a look?’

I went outside. ‘I’ve never used a barbecue.’

‘Needs to burn well for an hour or so before you can cook on it.’ James sniffed appreciatively, his mind leaping ahead. ‘Nothing like meat barbecued in the open. Irresistible.’

‘Perhaps Audrey has some paraffin.’

He clapped his hands. ‘I don’t see why petrol shouldn’t work. I’ve got a can in the car.’

He fetched the can and poured some of the petrol over the charcoal. There was a whoosh of flame when he lit the match. For an instant, tongues of fire danced over his hair.

‘Bloody hell!’ He slapped his head vigorously and glared at me. ‘No harm done.’

At least the charcoal seemed well alight. James asked Rosemary to put the can in the garage in case he needed it again. Audrey pounced on me and towed me away to look at the book stall – at the centre of which was a carefully arranged pyramid of
The History of Roth
, donated by its author.

‘I’ve put out thirty-six copies,’ Audrey said. ‘Do you think that will be enough? I’ve got some more under the table.’

‘I’m sure that will be enough. It’s very generous of you.’

Audrey simpered. ‘Every little bit helps. And it’s all in a good cause.’ Her eyes slipped past me towards the tent in the corner of the garden. ‘No sign of Toby?’

‘He’s not due till after lunch. Do you need him for something?’

‘I’d just like to have more of an idea of what he’s going to do. After all, this is a
church
fete. One wouldn’t want anything
inappropriate
.’

As she was speaking, she walked towards the tent. She opened the flap and we looked into its cool green interior. Despite the rain in the night, it was perfectly dry. In the middle of the tent was a card table covered with a blue chenille cloth. Two kitchen chairs faced each other across the table.

‘It might be wise if you were his first customer,’ Audrey suggested. ‘If you wouldn’t mind, that is.’

‘Why?’

‘Well, you could make sure that what he’s doing is all right. And also, if you go and see him, it’ll encourage everyone else.’ She giggled. ‘In fact, I almost think I might try him myself. I’ve never had my fortune told.’ She looked up at me. ‘Of course, I know it’s complete nonsense – just a bit of fun.’ She giggled once more. ‘Still, I suppose one never knows.’

At first, the only problem was that there was no sign of Toby Clifford – or of Joanna.

The fete began at two o’clock. The sun shone down from a cloudless sky. Ted Potter directed the cars in the paddock and along the drive of Roth Park. Rosemary sat at a table just inside the Vicarage gates taking the entrance money and bestowing smiles in return. Audrey even persuaded Vanessa to accept a roving commission to sell raffle tickets.

‘Many hands make light work,’ Audrey told her.

Vanessa glanced at me, her eyebrows lifting and her mouth twitching. ‘I thought that too many cooks spoiled the broth.’

I managed not to laugh. ‘Audrey – are those books quite safe? Couldn’t someone knock the pile over?’

In the first five minutes, two visitors bought copies of
The History of Roth
. The barbecue settled down to a steady glow. James, whose face was glowing too, added more and more charcoal.

‘We could roast a pig on this,’ he told me. ‘Maybe I should have been a chef.’

At twenty past two, Mary Vintner and I were trying to guess the weight of the cake, an activity which took place at the side of the house, in full view of the drive. A group of young people had just paid their entrance fee. Among them was Charlene’s friend Kevin Jones. They had spent lunchtime in the Queen’s Head, and they were in a cheerful mood. Behind them I glimpsed a woman – dark flowing hair, a long dark dress and some sort of brightly coloured headscarf.

I heard Rosemary say, ‘Excuse me. You haven’t paid.’

For the first time I saw the woman’s face, dominated by sunglasses with mirrored lenses and a bright-red slash of lipstick across the mouth.

‘Oh no,’ the woman squealed. ‘Madam Mysterioso never pays. Cross my palm with silver, dearie, and we’ll see if we can find you a handsome young man lurking in your future.’

Rosemary had recognized Toby and even before he began to speak her embarrassment was obvious, at least to me. She stood back, waving him in.

‘Vanessa,’ Toby called, declining to be waved in, ‘come and vouch for me. We madams must stick together.’

Several people laughed, including Mary. He had a gift for making people laugh when he wanted to, even when what he said was not intrinsically funny. Vanessa came into view with her roll of raffle tickets. Smiling, their heads close together, she and Toby followed the path down the side of the house towards Mary and me. Rosemary looked after them, her face pink and tight.

‘Sorry I’m a bit late,’ Toby said to me. ‘I started to drive down, but some idiot had blocked the drive, so I had to reverse back up to the house and then walk. And walking in a skirt is an art I haven’t entirely mastered.’

‘It’s a splendid costume.’ What I wanted to say was,
Leave my daughter alone
, and,
Where’s Joanna?

‘I’ll get started, shall I? Is there a queue?’

As it happened, there was. When we reached the tent, Kevin and his friends were clamouring for Madam Mysterioso.

‘Ah,’ cried Toby in his falsetto. ‘The price of fame. My public needs me. Hello, children! Just give me a moment to powder my nose.’

He winked at Vanessa and went alone into the tent.

Audrey sidled up to me. ‘Shouldn’t you go first?’ she hissed.

At this moment there was a diversion.

‘Fire!’ shouted Brian.

Almost everyone in the garden turned towards the barbecue. His face purple, James was jumping up and down on a flaming tea towel. His wife took in the situation at a glance. She darted into the kitchen, lifted the washing-up bowl from the sink, returned outside and deposited several pints of dirty sudsy water over the tea towel and over her husband’s trousers and shoes. James swore. Then he looked up and realized that he was at the centre of attention.

‘Almost ready to take your orders, ladies and gentlemen,’ he called, taking advantage of his audience. ‘Beefburgers, sausages, fried onions, rolls, mustard, tomato ketchup – we have everything you could possibly want to eat.’ He added, in a slightly lower voice, ‘Damn it, Mary, you’ll have to send Brian home for my shorts and sandals. I wish you wouldn’t panic like that.’

By the time I returned to Madam Mysterioso, Kevin was already inside the tent, laughing hysterically.

I spent the rest of the afternoon in a daze. I wandered around the fete and talked to people. After all, as Vanessa pointed out to me during a lull in the proceedings, it was my party and I was expected to circulate. The weather was wonderful, attendance was as good as we had ever had, if not better, and both the barbecue and Madam Mysterioso were doing excellent trade.

But all I could think of was Joanna. Why wasn’t she here? Had she changed her mind about me? Had Toby found out and somehow prevented her from coming? In the end, I could stand it no longer. I slipped into the house and went into the study. I dialled the number of Roth Park and waited.

The phone rang on and on. While it rang, I looked out of the window at Rosemary sitting at her table by the gate, staring out at the main road and the green beyond. I wondered if Joanna had had an accident, if she were lying in a coma at the foot of the stairs. Or she might have slipped, cracked her head and fallen into the swimming pool. I was about to give up when there was a click at the other end of the line and Joanna’s sleepy voice said hello.

‘It’s me.’

‘David. Dear David. What time is it?’

‘About a quarter to four. Are you coming down to the fete? I thought –’

The study door opened. Vanessa came in with a cup of tea in each hand.

‘No,’ I said swiftly. ‘I’m afraid you’ve got a wrong number. Goodbye.’ I put down the phone.

‘I thought we could have tea in peace and quiet,’ Vanessa said. ‘It’s like a Roman circus out there. With Audrey as the principal lion.’ She sat down opposite me and took a cigarette from the packet on the desk. ‘A wrong number? I didn’t hear the phone ring.’

‘It had hardly started when I picked the phone up,’ I said. ‘Thanks for the tea. It’s thirsty work.’

‘I visited Madam Mysterioso,’ Vanessa said. ‘She foresaw an outstanding literary success in my life. You should give Toby a try – he’s really rather good.’

I was scared that Joanna might phone me back. I gulped my tea and went outside with Vanessa. The fete was beginning to wind down. James beamed at us as he dropped the last sausages on to the grill.

‘Have a hot dog. Vanessa? David?’

The smell of burning meat reached my nostrils.

BOOK: The Judgement of Strangers
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