Read Village Secrets Online

Authors: Rebecca Shaw

Village Secrets (4 page)

Jimbo turned to see where Pat was pointing. Sitting on the chair by the customers’ coffee machine was Beth Harris. Her sturdy little legs were swinging back and forth, her thumb was in her mouth and her face was streaked by dried tears. She’d taken out of her pocket the piece of old cot blanket she called her ‘lover’ and was rubbing it intently back and forth across the end of her nose.

‘Heavens above.’ Jimbo strode gently across to Beth. ‘Good morning, my love. Come to see your Uncle Bimbo?’ Beth nodded. ‘Well, that’s lovely. Your Uncle Bimbo is pleased to see you. Come with me and we’ll find Flick’s Grandma Sadie and we’ll see what she’s got for you.’ He held out his hand. She slipped off the chair and confidently put her hand in his. They disappeared into the back of the Store to find Sadie in her mail-order office. She was packing some jars of Country Cousin Marmalade into one of Jimbo’s fancy boxes.

Jimbo caught Sadie’s eye and winked. ‘Now, Grandma Sadie, have you got something a hungry little girl could eat while her Uncle Bimbo makes a phone call?’

‘Of course. Sit here with me, darling, and we’ll find something for you.’ Jimbo slipped away to use the phone in his office.

Beth took the little box of Smarties Sadie gave her and said, ‘Thank you.’ Then: ‘I want my mummy.’ Tears began to trickle down her face.

Sadie looked at Beth’s lovely rounded cheeks, her startlingly bright blue eyes, the soft ash-blonde hair, and her heart went out to her. What a sweet dear beautiful child she was. Each and every tear was painful to watch. ‘Beth, Mummy’s not far away and she’ll be back for lunch, you know.’

‘I want my mummy.’ The words were blurred by her constricted throat and the tears which began coming too fast to count.

Sadie bent down to put her arms around her. ‘I know, dear, I know. But you’re getting a big girl now and big girls do some things by themselves, don’t they? Alex does, doesn’t he? Alex is being a big boy. You’ve to be a big girl. Is Alex still at school?’

Beth nodded.

‘Shall your Grandma Sadie take you back to him then?’

‘NO! I want my mummy!’ The wails began to grow louder. The box of Smarties was dropped on the floor and she wept.

Sadie felt quite unable to cope with Beth’s over-whelming sadness and longed to be rescued.

The rescue came in the form of Peter.

He ducked his head as he came into Sadie’s office. ‘Beth, my darling child. Come here.’ He bent down and picked her up off the chair and held her close.

‘I want my mummy.’

‘I know, darling, I know. But see here, Beth, Mummy has not gone away for ever. Mummy will be back for her lunch and that isn’t very long, is it? Now, Daddy’s going to take you back to school. Mrs Neal will be worried, so we’ll go and tell her where you are. Right now – OK?’

‘NO! I’m not going back there! I’m not! I’m not!’

‘I shall be with you, promise.’

‘All the time.’

‘All the time, I promise. Thank you, Sadie. Thank you.’

‘All part of a day’s work! Any time. Bye bye, darling. Chin up!’

Beth wouldn’t smile. She merely looked down at her over Peter’s shoulder and allowed herself to be carried away.

Pat watched the two of them leave the Store.

‘Poor little mite. She’s got a good pair of lungs, I’ll give ’er that. I’ll think over what you said about …’ Pat nodded significantly to Jimbo because they couldn’t exchange confidences as the Store had filled up again with customers, ‘… yer know, and talk it over with my intended.’

Jimbo nodded from behind the till and gave her the thumbs-up. ‘Don’t be too long about it.’

School playtime was just beginning when Peter crossed Jacks Lane and took Beth back to school. Kate Pascoe was in the hall.

‘Good morning, Rector. Hello, Beth. All right now?’

‘Good morning, Ms Pascoe. Sorry about all this trouble we’re having. It must be very upsetting. I’ll take her through to the playgroup and see Liz Neal and then I’ll have a quick word, if I may.’

‘Of course. See you in a moment. We’re just having coffee. Like one?’

‘Yes, please.’

The staff drank their morning coffee in the hall because the Head’s room was too small to accommodate them. Hetty Hardaker and Margaret Booth, a pretty, energetic, fair-haired girl whom the whole of the infant class adored on sight, were sitting in the hall with Kate Pascoe when Peter returned with Beth in his arms. Hetty had worked at the school for ten years, and had hoped for the headship. Margaret had replaced ‘poor’ Toria Clark, as everyone always called her. They were both eyeing Kate Pascoe warily. The atmosphere was less than cordial.

Peter stood Beth down on the floor and she stood, quietly sobbing, gripping his cassock. ‘Good morning, Hetty, Margaret. Sorry this daughter of mine is causing so much trouble. It’s really very unlike her. She’s the one with all the bounce and confidence. This has come as a great surprise.’ He turned to Kate. ‘I’m sorry she ran away, but concerned that no one had realised.’

‘Oh, but we did, and we’d been searching for her. Jimbo rang just as we were about to phone you to see if she’d gone home.’

‘I beg your pardon. I think I’ll take her home for the rest of the morning.’

‘Taking her home will solve nothing. You’ll have to be firm. She’s got to learn.’

Hetty Hardaker intervened. ‘She’ll learn nothing by being left to cry herself to exhaustion,
Miss
Pascoe. The rector’s quite right to take her home. There’s something very disturbing for Beth here, I don’t know what, but there is.’ She placed her coffee mug on the top of the piano and glared at Kate.

Kate ignored her. ‘Well, Rector. Either she stops crying or she stays at home – the choice is yours. It’s too disrupting for the other children. Our meditation time was quite ruined again today.’

‘I’ll take Beth back home for now. I’ll phone you later, Ms Pascoe, if I may.’

‘Kate, please.’

‘Kate, then. Sorry again about all this.’

‘So, Caroline, I’ve asked Kate Pascoe over for coffee tonight. Firstly as an apology about Beth’s behaviour and secondly to find out more about her.’

‘You sound as though you suspect her of something quite dreadful.’

‘No, not dreadful – but meditation? For ten-year-olds?’

‘I see what you mean. I shall look forward to this – it could be a very interesting evening.’ She didn’t notice Peter looking at her, surprised at her apparent lack of concern about Beth. ‘If you’ve finished lunch, we’ll clear away. Sylvia’s got plans for turning out the children’s room this afternoon. She’ll be back any minute.’

They heard the front door open and in a moment Sylvia came into the kitchen. ‘I’ve had a thought,’ she told them both. ‘Shall I stay with Beth at playgroup on Monday? It might help.’

Peter said he and Ms Pascoe were going to discuss it this evening and he’d let her know. When she got shut out like Peter had shut her out just now, Sylvia knew there was trouble brewing. Sighing, she snapped open the dishwasher. Please God not more trouble. They’d had enough last year for a lifetime and then some.

Peter was on the telephone so it was Caroline who opened the door to Kate.

‘Good evening, Kate. Do come in. I’m Caroline, the rector’s wife. How do you do?’

Kate shook hands and approved of Caroline. She appreciated her businesslike approach and she was so up-to-speed for a rector’s wife. ‘Not a very nice night, is it?’

‘No, it isn’t, but at least it isn’t snowing. This time last year we had thick snow for weeks. Most unusual. We’re in the sitting room – do go through and take a pew, the coffee’s almost ready.’

As she carried the tray from the kitchen across the hall Peter came out of his study. ‘That was Dicky Tutt, giving me the date for the Scout jumble sale – March the twentieth. Make a note and then we can have a clear-out. Kate here?’ He pushed the sitting-room door open a little wider to accommodate Caroline’s tray. ‘Good evening, Kate. I don’t need to introduce my wife, do I? Obviously you’ve already met. Firstly, I’m so sorry about Beth. She’s gone from being a perfectly happy sociable little being to this hysterical monster, and we’re not sure how to tackle it. My inclination is to take her each morning and stay with her for say ten minutes, then bring her home. Gradually lengthen the time she stays.’

Kate listened to his proposition. She noticed Caroline was saying nothing. She was the child’s mother, for God’s sake.

‘How do you feel, Caroline?’

‘Coffee? Milk? Sugar?’

‘Black, please. No sugar.’

Caroline sat down beside Peter and took a sip of her coffee. ‘Frankly, I’m completely at a loss. Although they are twins I prefer to treat them as completely separate individuals.’ Kate nodded in agreement. ‘If Alex is fine then he goes all morning. If Beth is finding it difficult then we adapt things to suit her. I think Peter’s idea is a good one. Sylvia could always stay with her if he is busy.’

‘Sylvia is employed as housekeeper, darling, primarily.’

‘You have a housekeeper?’

Caroline raised an eyebrow. ‘Yes, do you have a problem with that?’

‘No, no. I’m just surprised, that’s all. I’m all for throwing them in at the deep end. It’s surprising how resilient small children can be when once they see you mean business. However, basically it’s not for me to say, is it? Liz Neal is the one who takes the brunt of it. What I deplore is the disturbance it causes to the children whose school it actually is. Meditation is impossible with all that racket.’

Peter said, ‘I wondered about that.’

‘The disturbance?’

‘No, the meditation.’

‘It’s the modern equivalent to assembly.’

‘I see. It always was called prayers, or assembly.’

‘I dare say, but nowadays we have to cater for all religions, not just Christianity.’

‘May I point out that all the children are white and Christian.’

‘Just because they are white, it does not mean they are Christian.’

‘At Turnham Malpas School they all are. All, except the two Paradise children, go to our Junior Church or the Methodist Church in Little Derehams. The school is a C. of E. foundation and the parents expect prayers and religious teaching. You took the post on that understanding.’

‘I did. But are you saying there is no room for silence and private thought?’

‘No, certainly not. Of course there’s room for it, but there must be the other side too. In Michael Palmer’s time we had Friday-morning prayers in the church. Hetty and Margaret were quite happy to go along with that. If you prefer, I could take prayers on Fridays in the school instead, but I should be disappointed.’

Kate looked to Caroline for support but got none. ‘Then I shall have to adapt, shall I not? If Hetty Hardaker is willing to take prayers then she can. I shall conduct the silent thinking, afterwards.’

Caroline held up the coffee pot. ‘More coffee?’

‘Yes, please.’ Kate saw two of Caroline’s cats standing in the doorway. ‘Oh, what lovely creatures! Come, puss, puss, puss.’ Tonga and Chang fluffed their tails and arched their backs; Tonga spat and then they fled.

To cover his embarrassment at the weird attitude of their normally attention-seeking cats, Peter plunged in with, ‘Then we shall for the moment compromise, but it must be clearly understood, Miss …
Ms
Pascoe, that there must be religious teaching even if you don’t do it yourself. It is your responsibility to attend to that, however much you prefer not to. Hetty Hardaker did it all last term whilst we had no head teacher, so I’m sure she and Margaret will be quite happy to continue. We’ll review the situation at half-term.’

‘Very well. I shall do as you say, Rector.’

Caroline wanted to know more about Kate herself. ‘Settling in at the school-house, Kate?’

‘Yes, thanks. It’s terribly dowdy, though. I’m brightening it up. When it’s done, will you come for supper one evening? Or perhaps you won’t have a babysitter.’

‘Sylvia does it for us, so yes, we’d love to come. In fact, I’ve never been inside the school-house and we’ve lived here almost four years, so it will be interesting for us, won’t it, Peter?’

‘Yes, it will.’ He looked at Kate. ‘Now – about May the first.’

‘Yes?’

‘On that day, Michael always had Maypole dancing on the Green. All the parents are invited, there are cups of tea and a May Queen. Do you do Maypole dancing?’

‘Ye olde phallic symbol? Village maidens dancing round in homage – rites of spring and all that jazz. Of course! Delighted to take part. Must go, want to do some more decorating before bed. Thanks for the coffee. Hope Beth settles down soon. Won’t be long before you get my invitation. I’m a tigress once I get started.’

Caroline saw her out and went back into the sitting room to find Peter had gone. He was in his study, searching along his bookshelves.

‘What are you looking for?’

‘Maypole dancing. An innocent colourful pursuit, I thought, until tonight. I’d no idea that was what it represented. Phallic symbol, indeed! Is nothing sacred any more?’

Caroline laughed. ‘Oh, Peter! She makes a change from strait-laced Michael Palmer anyway. He was a bit too solemn, wasn’t he?’

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