Village Secrets (18 page)

While Louise tracked Jeremy Mayer down, Peter went to look out of the hall windows. The lawn, now restored to its former glory after the disastrous episode with the new sewers, was a joy to behold. Peter caught a sense for a brief moment of how hard Ralph must find it to come up here and see his old home. Especially now it was in the hands of an insensitive entrepreneur like Craddock Fitch; though since Sadie’s death the man had been a little less assertive than before. He felt as much as heard the heavy ponderous step of Jeremy Mayer.

‘Good morning, Rector. Pleasure to see you.’ Peter turned and shook the outstretched hand. Jeremy was not getting any thinner. His upper arms resembled large hams, and his feet looked ridiculously small at the end of his necessarily wide trouser legs. Peter surreptitiously wiped his palm dry on the handkerchief in his cassock pocket.

‘And to see you. I’ve come on a begging mission.’

‘Donation is it, to some worthy cause?’

Peter quelled his indignation at Jeremy’s assumption and said, ‘No. I’m speaking to you in your capacity as estate manager. I wonder, are there any vacancies at the moment, or likely to be in the near future, for unskilled teenagers? Anything would do – kitchens, gardens, handyman, anything. I have a particularly needy case in mind.’

‘I don’t think we have. I wish I could help.’

Peter was disappointed.

Then Louise pushed a piece of paper across her desk. ‘You’ve come on the right day, Rector. There’s this advertisement I’ve just written out for a garden labourer.’

Jeremy, angry with himself for appearing out of touch, said: ‘Ah yes, I’d forgotten about that. Gardening any good?’

‘Anything at all.’ Peter flashed a grateful glance in Louise’s direction. ‘Before you put it in the paper, could I be given the chance to speak to this young chap?’

‘Someone in the village?’ Louise asked.

‘Yes, Rhett Wright.’

Jeremy laughed. ‘Poor chap needs all the help he can get with a name like that. That’s the one who’s gone off his rocker, isn’t it?’

‘I wouldn’t quite put it like that.’

‘Whole village seems to be jumpy. All over a dog. Amazing!’ Jeremy’s mountainous body shook with laughter.

‘Worrying, actually. I just wish I knew what it was all about. Neither Rhett nor the sergeant’s wife will tell me why they’re so terrified. I’ll be in touch, Louise, about the job as soon as possible. OK?’

‘Fine.’

‘Bye, Jeremy. Thanks for the chance. I’ll return the favour one day.’

In The Royal Oak that night Vera expressed her eternal gratitude. ‘The drinks are on me and if the rector was in ’ere tonight I’d be buying him one as well. Gawd! Am I grateful. Rhett’s been up there meek as a lamb and Greenwood Stubbs, head gardener though he might be, ’as been that lovely with him. Told him there’s a career waiting for him if he puts his mind to it. Promised to teach him all about the greenhouses, growing them grapes and peaches and whatnot as soon as he proves himself diligent-like. And he’s promised him a day a week at college if he shows interest! Can yer imagine our Rhett at college? Never thought I’d live to see the day.’

‘Wouldn’t have thought your Rhett would know one end of a spade from the other,’ Jimmy wryly observed.

‘He doesn’t, but he soon will. I’ve promised him a nice packed lunch each day and I’m keeping my fingers crossed.’

‘Better now, is he?’ Willie asked.

‘Much improved. But it’s unnerving, this business of ’im sitting in the church such a lot.’

Willie became indignant. ‘’Armless enough occupation. Might do ’im a bit o’ good. Better than sniffing drugs. Saw him in there this morning when I was clearing up. He isn’t praying. Just sits there or walks about reading the memorial tablets and the like. This job could be the making of ’im.’

‘I ’ope so. Teenagers need money in their pockets nowadays; it’ll be grand for ’im. Here’s to the rector and Greenwood Stubbs and our Rhett. Let’s ’ope he sticks with it.’

Willie and Jimmy raised their glasses and joined in the toast.

Jimmy wiped his lips, put down his glass and said, ‘What d’yer reckon made him go crackers then?’

Vera looked shiftily at Jimmy and chose her words carefully. ‘To be honest, Jimmy, and I ’ope you won’t take offence, but he went funny after he’d seen that dog of yours.’

‘Sykes?’

‘Have you called him Sykes?’

‘I have. I’d no alternative and no one’s reported him missing as yet, so I’m keeping ’im.’

‘Really?’ Suddenly afraid, Vera asked, ‘Is he under the table now?’

‘Yes.’

‘Oh Gawd!’ She leapt up and made to leave.

‘He’s pulling your leg, Vera. He’s not here.’ Willie laughed. ‘It’s all daft, this being frightened. I mean, he’s only a stray.’

Jimmy shook his head. ‘Don’t you be too sure about that, Willie Biggs. He’s far too wise just to be a stray. Mark my words.’

‘If it’s Sykes, who was it brought him back to life, then? Answer me that.’

Vera whispered, ‘The devil? Our Rhett’s frightened of the devil getting him, that’s what he says. That’s why he’s so scared.’

‘For heaven’s sake, don’t let the rector hear you talking like that.’

‘There’s lights in Sykes Wood at night. I reckon there
is
someone dabbling with the devil.’

‘Let’s hope they have a long spoon then if they’re supping with
him
.’

‘Ms Pascoe’s cat’s been seen late at night in the woods.’

‘That’s nothing to go by. Dr Harris’ Mimi used to go huntin’ there. Rector’s Meadow, Sykes Wood – you name it.’

‘Yes, and look what happened to her. She’s never been seen since.’

Willie saw he was on dangerous ground and, fearful of betraying what Sylvia had found in the wood, he tried to change the subject. ‘Pat’s still at the school then.’

‘That’s another thing. Ms Pascoe, what’s she up to?’

‘Teaching if she’s any sense,’ Willie replied.

‘And some. I reckon she’s up to something funny with them kids. The rector’s been and given her a telling off.’

‘How do you know?’

‘Pat told me. They left the office door ajar and she was dusting in the hall, quite by chance.’

Jimmy and Willie both said, ‘Of course.’

‘She couldn’t hear everything but she did hear him tell her she’d no business teaching the children about bloody trees feeling pain.’

‘That’s not evidence she’s doing deals with the devil, is it?’

‘I haven’t finished.’ She leant towards the two of them and said softly, ‘Last night my Don was coming back ’ome later than usual after one of his late shifts, two o’clock in the morning it was, and he passed Ms Pascoe walking along towards the village, with that cat of hers.
From the direction of Sykes Wood
.’

‘Is this true or have you made it up?’

‘True as I’m ’ere – ask him if you like. You know Don don’t exaggerate, and he ‘adn’t been drinking ’cos as you well know he doesn’t. So what’s she doing that time o’ night walking home from Sykes Wood, eh?’

It was not only Don Wright who’d seen Kate walking home in the night. Ralph and Muriel had been to dinner with an old Diplomatic Service colleague of Ralph’s and the two men had been reminiscing with such enjoyment that Muriel had not wished to spoil their pleasure by reminding them how late it was getting, with the result that they hadn’t left his house until a quarter past one. Muriel was very tired and dozed for most of the way home.

Ralph had woken her when they were about five minutes away from Turnham Malpas. ‘My dear, time to wake up. Five minutes and we shall be there.’

Muriel stretched. ‘I wasn’t really sleeping, just dozing. I’m glad you had such a wonderful evening, Ralph.’

‘We rather neglected you, I’m afraid.’

‘No, you didn’t, I enjoyed hearing about your exploits. He seems to have been great fun.’ In the beam of the car headlights Muriel spotted someone walking by the side of the road. ‘Oh look, Ralph! Be careful, there’s someone there. Look!’

‘So there is. Who on earth can it be?’

As they passed, Muriel saw it was Kate Pascoe with Cat.

‘What is Kate doing out at this time of night? Quick! Do stop and give her a lift.’

‘No.’

‘Ralph! Perhaps her car has broken down. Do stop.’

‘I don’t want that cat in my car.’

‘I think that’s most unkind, and not at all like you.’

‘She’s nearly home anyway. I don’t like cats, Muriel. Particularly ones the size of a young panther.’

‘You’re not succumbing to this village superstition thing, are you?’

‘Of course not.’

‘You don’t sound very sure.’ She turned her head to look into his face. There was a half-smile on his lips and she said, ‘You are, just a little bit, aren’t you?’

‘I was born and bred here, so perhaps I am in tune with the spirit of the village.’

‘Well, really, I’m ashamed of you. I truly am. I was born here too, but I don’t feel like that. It’s nonsense.’

‘There’s an atmosphere in the village at the moment that I don’t like – a kind of wary atmosphere – and people are finding it difficult to meet one’s eye. Have you noticed that? But then there have been some strange happenings recently, haven’t there?’

‘Ralph – you’re as bad as everyone else! Sadie dies in her sleep, which I’m very sorry about because I envied her her
joie de vivre
and I shall miss her, one cat goes missing and a stray dog turns up. No connection at all.’

‘Two people, one quite young, are both quietly going out of their minds. You’ve forgotten that.’

Muriel shivered. ‘You’re right.’

‘I am. Somewhere there’s evil about. Someone is toying with the devil.’

As Ralph was putting the car away in the garage, Muriel remarked, ‘I overheard in the Store that there’s been lights seen in Sykes Wood at night.’

‘Ah!’

‘Why “Ah!”?’

‘We’ve just seen Kate Pascoe, with a torch, walking along in the early hours of the morning, haven’t we?’

‘We have. Ralph, how about if
we
go and take a look one night? Very late.’

‘Muriel!!’

‘Why not?’

They walked down the back garden path full of their idea, and Muriel fell fast asleep with an image of Enid Blyton’s Secret Seven in her mind. She’d so enjoyed those books when she was a girl, and she and Ralph setting off to investigate a mystery made her feel like a schoolgirl again.

A week after seeing Kate coming home in the early hours Ralph made up his mind to do something about it. He had to find out for himself what it was that the village was so upset about. That evening, he made one of his rare appearances in the bar of The Royal Oak. It was nine o’clock. Being midweek the bar was only half-f but the two people he was hoping to see were there. He ordered his whisky, exchanged views with Georgie and Bryn about the long winter they were experiencing, and then took his drink across to the table where Willie and Jimmy were conferring.

They both looked up as his shadow crossed the table. ‘Hello, Ralph.’

‘Hello, Jimmy, Willie. Can I join you or are you expecting someone?’

Jimmy moved further up the settle. ‘Sit here. There’s just the two of us. Sylvia’s sitting in at the rectory and Vera’s having to fill in on the late shift at the nursing home.’

‘Thank you, I will then. How’s Sykes?’

Jimmy put his finger to his lips. ‘Sssh – he’s under the table, but don’t let on; it only upsets everyone. I can’t leave him by himself at home all evenin’.’

‘Saw you taking him out the other morning. He’s indistinguishable from the old Sykes, isn’t he?’

‘Yes, and a grand dog he is, too. We’re becoming real friends. He’s good company.’

‘Capital. There’s something a bit special about dogs, something extra in their companionship which you don’t get with a cat.’

‘Exactly.’

‘I keep wondering if Muriel should get another dog, but she can’t forget Pericles.’

‘When you’ve ’ad a good dog, yer can’t replace ’em easily. I’ve taken to ’im,’ Jimmy pointed under the table, ‘only ’cos he’s so like old Sykes in looks and that.’

‘And that?’ Ralph queried.

‘Habits an’ that. Uncanny it is sometimes.’

‘Uncanny?’

Willie interrupted. ‘This is leading somewhere, Ralph?’

‘You’ve both finished your drinks – will you allow me to get you another?’

Willie pushed his glass across the table. ‘Thanks very much. Same again, please.’

‘And me,’ echoed Jimmy. Ralph took their glasses to the bar. ‘He’s got something on his mind, he ’as.’

Willie agreed.

Ralph settled down again at their table and when they’d thanked him for their refills, he said heavily, ‘Sykes Wood.’

‘Yes?’ Jimmy said. ‘What about it?’

Willie looked away, tried to pretend he hadn’t heard. Jimmy lifted his glass and having taken a long drink, wiped his mouth on the back of his hand.