Read Scandal in the Village Online
Authors: Rebecca Shaw
‘But what will you do? Where will you live. Here?’
‘Let’s wait and see. Leave the pans, I’ll do those. You take him out and …’
‘Look Bel, I shan’t want him all to myself. We’re not kids. There’ll still be room for you.’
Bel gazed out of the window. ‘We’ll see how things work out. Let’s not make promises we shan’t be able to keep.’
Georgie reached up and placed another kiss on Bel’s cheek. ‘If it’s any comfort I do love him, he’s just wonderful, such fun and so thoughtful. He’s kind of just right for me, he makes me so happy and I hope I make him happy too. Thanks for being so generous.’
Bel laughed. ‘Generous! I shall be glad to see the back of him! You can have him lock stock and barrel! I mean it!’
When they were ready to leave Bel stood at the door to wave them off. She watched them walk down the front path with an indulgent smile on her face, but her lovely green eyes began to fill with tears. They were so absorbed in each other they didn’t turn back to wave goodbye, so they didn’t see her weeping and she was glad.
That night there was no moon, so without street lighting because everyone had vigorously opposed its installation ten years ago, the village was in almost total darkness. There was a light on in Linda and Alan’s bedroom because Lewis was teething and unable to sleep, and there was a light above the Store where Jimbo was still working. He had spent hours sorting and planning his Christmas displays, carrying boxes of attractive packing materials and fancy cardboard boxes down into the mail-order office ready for Mrs Jones to pack the Christmas hampers, getting out the Christmas decorations from last year, planning his windows which at Christmas were his pride and joy, and generally sorting his life out for the ensuing festive rush. He rubbed his eyes and forehead and went to stand at the window looking out over the Green. Besides the Store and the mail order doing so well, he had more catering business this Christmas than ever before. If things went on as they were he’d soon be a wealthy man. So wealthy in fact he’d be able to leave much of it to his staff and elect to be in a supervisory capacity instead of at the sharp end. But when he thought about it that idea didn’t appeal. Working in the Store and meeting with these good people was the best tonic he could have. He thrived on it. So did Harriet and so did the children. Such genuine whole hearted folk they were. Half past midnight. He’d better leave.
Jimbo turned off the lights, locked the stockroom door and went downstairs. He let himself out and having reassured himself that everything was secure he stood for a moment in the shadow of the doorway looking at the village. Jimbo knew he was privileged to live here. Fancy if he lived in a high-rise block somewhere. Jimbo shuddered. It didn’t bear thinking about. Walking home he passed the Bissetts’ house, poor Sheila he couldn’t quite forgive his mother for leaving her helpless in the church hall, he passed the Senior sisters’ house, the poor old things, and then his mother-in-law’s old house. The chap who’d bought it seemed nice enough. As he was about to put his key in the lock of his own home he thought he heard a noise.
Jimbo stood quite still and listened. There it was again, it seemed to be coming from the direction of Church Lane. Looking across the Green he saw a small group of shadowy figures moving stealthily along towards the church. Jimbo lost sight of them so he walked as softly as he could onto the Green so he could follow their progress. But the royal oak despite its lack of leaves blocked his view. As he walked further onto the Green he heard the smashing of glass. At first he thought they must be attacking the church but as he ran and the church and Glebe Cottages came into view he saw they were attacking Dicky and Bel’s windows. Without a thought for his own safety he ran into Church Lane shouting ‘Hey! Hey, there! Stop it. Do you hear! Stop it!’
The noise made by the breaking glass masked his voice. He ran down Church Lane shouting, ‘Stop it! Stop it!’ Lights began coming on in bedrooms, windows were opened, shouts were heard. The four men were wearing balaclava type head gear which made it impossible to recognise any of them. Jimbo knew they must be able to hear his voice but they continued throwing missiles at the windows, by now Jimbo had drawn level with the churchyard wall where it ran down the side of the cottage garden, as he stepped onto the front lawn two of the men darted down the side of the cottage and Jimbo could hear glass breaking at the back. His mobile phone. Damn it! He’d left it in the Store.
The other two men were spraying paint on the brickwork at the front. Jimbo rushed at them but the taller of the two pushed him away. ‘Buzz off, Jimbo! Before you get hurt!’
Then they too darted down the side of the house and Jimbo could just see them vault the churchyard wall and disappear. He followed them to the wall in time to see the other two leap it further down and speed away across the churchyard, skimming the gravestones and disappearing helter-skelter round the back of the church hall. There was no way he could catch them fit as he was, so he went back to the cottage and called up to the broken upstairs window, ‘Dicky! Bel! It’s Jimbo. Are you all right?’
After a moment Dicky’s head appeared. ‘We’re OK. Have they gone?’
‘Yes, there was no way I could catch them. Come on down and we’ll see what we can do.’ Jimbo went round to the front door, stepping carefully because of the broken glass littering the path and the front lawn.
Dicky unlocked the door, though it seemed a pointless exercise: only jagged pieces of glass were left at the edges of the door frame.
‘Careful where you step, Dicky. Where’s Bel? What a shock. I just wish I could have caught them. Are you sure you’re OK?’
Peter came up the path, his cloak over his pyjamas, and trainers on his feet. ‘My God! What on earth is happening? Did you see who it was?’
‘’Fraid not. They were wearing masks over their faces, there were four of them, I know that.’
Bel came to the door, a vast red dressing-gown over her nightclothes, her happy face creased with fear, and white as a sheet. ‘Oh dear. What are we going to
do?
I was so scared.’
Dicky put his arm round her. ‘Don’t you worry, love, we’re not going to let a pack of hooligans frighten us away. They’ve done their worst, but the insurance will take care of it.’
A crowd of villagers had gathered some carrying torches and most of them appalled at what had happened.
‘Who do you reckon it was, Rector?’
‘What a wicked thing to do.’
‘They need horsewhipping.’
As well as the sympathetic cries Peter distinctly heard someone saying none too quietly ‘Serves ’em right. The mucky pair.’ And another one muttering ‘Just deserts, that’s what, we don’t want ’em ’ere.’
Peter stood facing the cottage to estimate the damage. ‘At this time of night there’s no way we can set about making the house safe.’
Jimbo agreed. ‘Look, how about it, Dicky, if I lend you my mobile phone and you stay in the house, and someone could offer Bel a bed for the rest of the night? You can’t leave the house unprotected but at least if you have my phone you can ring me or Peter for help. No good ringing the police, they’ll take ages to get here from Culworth. Bel, what do you think?’
‘I don’t like leaving Dicky, but I’m too frightened to stay.’
‘Serves yer right, yer should be frightened.’
Peter fixed the speaker with a stern look, and they shamefacedly turned their gaze away from him. ‘Very good idea. Look Bel, Caroline always keeps clean sheets on our spare bed, you can stay there for the night. What do you say, Dicky, to doing as Jimbo suggests?’
‘Can’t do any other. I’ll get the glaziers to come first thing. What a damned mess. Who on earth could it have been?’
Jimbo, startled into recollecting what had happened when he’d first arrived on the scene, said, ‘They were locals. That’s right, they were locals.’
Dicky looked up at him. ‘How did you know, if their faces were covered up.’
‘They called me Jimbo. That’s right they told me to go before I got hurt, and said “Buzz off, Jimbo.” So they knew me. I’ll ring their necks if ever I find out who it was.’
Peter vastly disappointed that it was local men looked sadly at the faces of the villagers gathered in the garden. ‘We may as well all go home, there’s nothing we can do except keep our eyes and ears open in the next few days and tell Dicky if we suspect we know who’s done this dreadful thing. And remember if the press come asking questions we none of us know
why
or
who
. We don’t want them getting on to it. This is where we all remember “silence is golden”. Please don’t let me … nor Dicky and Bel down, will you? Mum’s the word. Good night everyone and thank you for your concern. God bless you all.’
Most of the villagers said ‘Good night, Rector’, even those who’d been less than kind in their remarks. A few went to comfort Bel and offered to come round to help clear up in the morning. ‘Least we can do. Dreadful, really dreadful.’
Jimbo went back to the Store for his mobile phone and Peter went With Bel to the rectory.
Caroline came down the stairs when she heard the door open.
‘Darling?’ Then she saw Bel. ‘Why Bel? Whatever’s happened?’
Peter explained and Caroline, full of understanding, put her arms around Bel and hugged her. ‘How perfectly dreadful. We’ll make a cup of tea and you can take it to bed, the sheets are on.’
Bel protested but Caroline hushed her with a finger to her lips. ‘No trouble at all, that’s what we’re here for.’
‘I shall have to be up early because of the school.’
‘Don’t fret on that score, we’re always up early because of the children, and Peter saying prayers. That’s no problem. You do your best to sleep, it won’t be easy I know. Just remember those dreadful people are to be pitied. Let’s be thankful Jimbo was working late, and caught them at it. It could all have been a lot worse.’
When they got to bed Peter said, ‘I don’t want to call the police.’
‘You don’t?’
‘No. I hope Dicky doesn’t either.’
‘Why not?’
‘If the police know then the press will get to know and then it will all come out. Can’t you just see the headlines? Turnham Malpas will turn overnight into a den of iniquity.’
‘Of course, because of Dicky and Bel you mean. The one bedroom.’
‘Exactly. All he’s worked for will be gone overnight.’
‘Well, we’ve had good reason to be thankful for them keeping quiet before, let’s hope they can do it again. Good thing we’ve lost our own police station, the Sergeant would have been here in a flash.’
Peter nodded. ‘I was sorry we lost him, but tonight I’m quite glad. He’d have been honour bound to report it. Good night, darling.’
‘Good night. There’s someone crying. It doesn’t sound like the children, it must be Bel. I’ll go see.’
The following morning Jimbo was feeling considerably below par. He ploughed on day after day carrying the burden of the business and most often he loved it, but today, somehow, a week away with Harriet, on their own, sounded like paradise. Last night had been the final straw. The papers were late, he’d had a load of vegetables to throw out because they hadn’t kept over the weekend, the baker’s van hadn’t arrived, his accounts were getting behind hand, and to top it all he’d had a letter from a company in Culworth complaining about the food he’d provided for their company promotion meeting, when he knew all the time it was because they hadn’t really been able to afford such a big splash. It wasn’t the food at all. The fact that the promotion hadn’t been well attended wasn’t his fault, he’d only done the food and done it superbly well.
To add to his troubles it looked as though Linda would be late again. Jimbo decided that if she was that would be that. He could put up with so much, but she really was getting to be a trial. From experience he knew babies could be difficult, but he rather felt that Linda made more fuss than poor subdued little Lewis truly warranted.
He looked at his watch at ten minutes past nine and she still hadn’t arrived. Running between till and post office counter he wished Harriet hadn’t decided to do the farm run straight from taking Fran to playgroup. They were always busy first thing with the mothers when they’d left their children at school. He needed her right here this very minute.
The doorbell jingled and in rushed a breathless Linda. She called across, ‘Sorry Mr Charter-P. Isn’t it dreadful about Dicky and Bel? We hardly got any sleep and just to put the lid on it the girl who looks after Lewis on Mondays hasn’t turned up, so Alan’s having to look after him, and I’m all behind.’
‘In that case then go back home and catch up.’
Linda stopped in her tracks. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Watch my lips, I shall say this only once! If you’ve a lot to do, go home and do it and don’t bother coming back. It’s obvious that you’ve no time for work. So you can be free of it, free to devote your time to Lewis and Alan. I’ve got a note of how many times you’ve been late, and how many times you’ve taken more than an hour for lunch and then left early into the bargain and I’m sorry I can no longer employ you. It’s happening far too often and I’m not willing to put up with it. I’m running a business here not a charity. I shall send the money due to you as soon as I get a chance to calculate what I owe. Sorry, Linda, but that’s that.’
Jimbo carried on taking the money at the till ignoring Linda’s horrified expression. When she finally found her voice she said ‘Oh! What a joke, for one awful moment I thought you meant it. Now, Lady Templeton, what can I get for you?’
As Muriel opened her mouth to ask for ten first-class stamps and could Linda send this letter recorded delivery, Jimbo said, ‘Stop! I meant it! Don’t bother to undo your coat, just leave.’ He stabbed a forefinger in the direction of the door. ‘That’s the way out.’
‘Well. After all these years. I don’t believe it. You can’t sack someone who’s worked for you for years. You can’t do it. It’s not allowed.’
‘I have done it, and damn the consequences I say. That’s ten pounds and ninety-five pence, please. Thank you. Five pence change. Good morning and thank you for shopping with us.’ Jimbo looked at Linda with a surprised expression on his face. ‘You’re still here, Linda. I’ve shown you where the door is.’
Linda burst into tears and headed for the door, just as she was about to reach out to grasp the handle Alan burst in.
‘Oh, Alan! How did you know?’ She flung herself into his arms but he pushed her off.
‘The keys. Where are the keys? I can’t get in the pub. It’s all locked up! I’ve hammered on the door, back and front, and there’s no reply. I can’t understand it, it’s never happened before! I think Bryn must have been taken ill. Where’ve you put the spare keys? Eh?’
Because he was ignoring her predicament Linda cried louder still. She burbled out between her sobs, ‘In your sock drawer, right underneath.’ As he was turning to leave and go home to procure the keys a thought struck her, and gazing frantically about she screamed, ‘Where’s the baby?’
‘The baby? The baby? Oh my God, I’ve left him outside the pub by the bins.’ The two of them raced out leaving the door wide open.
Muriel, who hated confrontation and was standing by the post office section in a state of shock, began to tremble, it was all too much. In a faint voice she said, ‘I’ll help myself to a coffee if I may, Jimbo.’
‘Of course, you do that.’
Muriel stepped round to the shelf where the coffee machine stood, but it was empty. ‘Oh dear.’
At that moment Mrs Jones strode in. ‘What’s the matter with Linda and Alan? I’ve just seen them streaking across the Green as if the devil himself was after them.’
Jimbo sighed. ‘It’s a long story. I’ll tell you later. Be on the till five minutes while I do the post office will you?’
‘Well, all right but if I make a mistake …’
‘I’ll accept full responsibility.’
‘OK, but on your own head be it.’
Jimbo strode across. ‘Now Muriel … You didn’t get your coffee.’
‘No, there isn’t any.’
Jimbo took off his boater and smoothed his bald head. ‘I wonder if I could put back the clock and start Monday all over again? Perhaps it wouldn’t be any better if I did. Shall I …?’ He nodded his head in the direction of the coffee percolator.
Muriel shook her head. ‘Not for me, you’ve enough to do. Shall I come back later for my stamps?’
‘I’ll do it now. Who’d be an employer? I ask you? Now, let’s see.’
They found the baby safe and sound though somewhat surprised, and Alan took a tearful Linda back home grateful in some ways that she’d been sacked, then he wasn’t saddled with the baby to look after when he obviously had a crisis on his hands. Socks flew in all directions as he searched for the keys, grabbing them he rushed back to the pub. Opening the main door he strode into the bar and listened to the silence. It was profound. Either Bryn was laid dead somewhere or he wasn’t here at all.
He searched the bar, the public lavatories, the dining-room and the kitchens, the storerooms at the back, and then climbed the stairs. Knowing that Elektra had been making a bid for the lonely Bryn he was cautious which bedroom doors he opened. The door to his old room was ajar. He peeped round the door and saw the bed hadn’t been slept in. Or if it had she’d made the bed first thing. Drawing a blank he went to the main bedroom. That door was shut, so taking hold of the knob firmly he gently turned it and opened it just enough to put his head round. The bed had been slept in. Both sides. He tried the third bedroom which had always been more of a boxroom than anything, that too was empty. It occurred to him to look out onto the car park. He went to the window and realised Bryn’s Triumph sports car had gone.
There was no one in the lounge nor the kitchen. Obviously Bryn had packed up and left. Alan panicked. He couldn’t run it on his own. He’d have to get Georgie. Would she come back though? She’d have to.
When he got to Grandmama’s the two of them were just finishing a leisurely breakfast, in a lovely marigold yellow cosy country kitchen Linda would have died for. Grandmama was wearing a splendid housecoat and Georgie was in trousers and that purpley sweater Linda liked, with the pearl decoration on the front.
Georgie stood up in alarm when she saw Alan. ‘What’s the matter?’
‘Bryn’s gone.’
‘Gone? Gone where?’
‘Don’t know. But he’s not there.’
‘He isn’t?’
‘No. Not in the pub.’
‘He’s slept in.’
Alan shook his head. ‘No, he hasn’t. I’ve had to get my spare keys to get in. I’ve been to have a look.’
‘Been to look in the bedrooms you mean?’ Georgie’s heart began to thud.
Alan nodded. ‘That’s right. Elektra’s not there either.’
‘She’s not?’
‘No.’
Grandmama took a hand. ‘Best get over there. Have a good search yourself.’
Alan protested. ‘I’ve looked, I know that place like the back of my hand, I lived there. He isn’t there, I tell you.’
Georgie’s mind was whirling with questions. ‘His car?’
‘Gone.’
Georgie abruptly sat down again, dropping onto the chair with a thud. Inspired, she asked, ‘His clothes. Has he taken his clothes?’
‘I don’t know, I didn’t look in the wardrobes.’
‘No, of course not. It’s not like Bryn just to disappear. He’ll have gone into Culworth for something urgent. Or, I know, the cash and carry, we’ve run out of something. Yes, that’ll be it.’
Grandmama and Alan exchanged sceptical looks.
Georgie sprang to life. ‘He’ll be back soon. But I’d better come over. He hasn’t left a note?’
Alan shook his head. ‘It looks like more than just going shopping to me.’
‘In that case then we’ll have to get ready to open up. Has the chef arrived yet?’
‘No, but it’s still early for him.’
‘Damn it, and I was going to the bank this morning and the solicitors, well that’ll have to wait. Blast him. Blast him. And her. I’ll get my coat.’
Georgie turned up her nose when she saw the state of the kitchen. Whatever Elektra was good at, it wasn’t housekeeping. The sink and draining board were cluttered with dirty dishes, the waste bin was overflowing, and she noted lipstick smothered cigarette ends in a saucer on the kitchen table. Bryn was accustomed to a scrupulously clean kitchen, it surprised her what men were prepared to put up with. In exchange for what?
She saw the bedroom and realised.
Stiffening her resolve Georgie marched downstairs. ‘Alan! Now look here, there’s no way we can manage without some help. If we’ve to cover for Bryn then we need someone to clean, temporary, as of today to fill the gap. You’ll have to work extra hours which I know you’ll quite like. We’ll manage till we find out what’s going on.’
‘Don’t you worry we’ll cope, remember that time Bryn went into hospital for his hernia, we managed then didn’t we?’
‘You’re quite right we did. Who is there in the village could clean? Today, right now?’
‘Linda could. Jimbo sacked her from the post office this morning. She could, temporary, we’ll need the money. She’d have to bring the baby though, today.’
‘Well, she can for now. Give her a ring. Pay’s good tell her, she’ll get a bonus for coming in promptly. Right, let’s get cracking.’
That night the bar was crowded. The news had flashed round Turnham Malpas and the surrounding farms and villages in no time at all. All the regulars and plenty of customers who only came occasionally had found reason to be in there. Alan and Georgie were, to use an expression of Bryn’s “pulled out of the place”. Dicky, now that Bryn was no longer around, had called in for a drink but seeing how busy the two of them were he’d volunteered out of sympathy for their predicament and out of love for Georgie to be potman for the night.
‘Eh! Dicky, you’re back then, now the coast’s clear?’
‘So how’s love’s young dream tonight then?’
‘We shall miss Elektra, and not half!’
‘Don’t suppose you wear black lace knickers?’
Dicky took it all in good part, and began to enjoy himself. He liked people and that was something he knew you had to do if you were in the licensed trade. He started telling a few jokes if a particular table was receptive, and before he knew where he was he had an audience and there was nothing Dicky liked better than an audience and he played it to the hilt.
There was a round of applause after his impromptu performance and Alan and Georgie winked at each other with approval.
‘See, Alan, I knew I was right. Bryn didn’t know everything.’
‘Well, I agreed With you at the time. He’s a bit of all right is Dicky. Everybody likes him, you see.’
A germ of an idea formed in Georgie’s head, but she’d have to think hard first before she put it into words. Business decisions had to be well thought out before you took action. But it might just be the answer to a lot of problems.
Surprisingly it was Grandmama who came up With the complete solution. She called on the Thursday of the week Bryn had disappeared on the Monday, when she knew they would be quiet.
‘Georgie! Georgie!’ After a moment a tired-looking Georgie appeared. ‘Now my dear, get us both a drink and come and sit down before you fall down. I’ve had an idea.’
Grandmama placed herself in the comfortable wing-chair by the fireplace. It was the middle of the afternoon and the lunchtime crowd had gone but the evening crowd had not yet arrived.
‘Whisky?’
‘Not at this time of day and in any case I need a clear head. I’ll have a lemonade, thank you, my dear.’
Georgie plumped herself down. She was exhausted.
‘My dear, you look worn out.’
‘I am. Bryn did all the books and the bulk of the ordering. I never realised just how much time it took. And there’s the dining-room to keep an eye on, they’re short-handed in there, I’ve found that one of the part-timers has been taking food home so she’s had to go. I feel sorry for her, but it’s no good, once one does it the rest will follow.’
‘I agree. Now, have you heard from Bryn?’