The Village Show (Tales from Turnham Malpas) Page 11

  Louise suppressed the urge to speak to him, recognising that she had gone far too far, and would probably never retrieve the status quo again. Sylvia, fearful of his anger, quietly went into the hall, took her coat from the cupboard and rushed home to the comfort of Willie’s arms. Louise had no such arms in which to shelter; she went home to weep alone.

  Peter stood quite still for a moment breathing heavily and attempting to regain his self-control. Alex and Beth were still crying, so he picked them both up and sat each of them on a kitchen chair. He opened the cake tin and gave them each a piece of flapjack, and with shaking hands poured some juice into their beakers. Having spoken reassuringly to them, he turned his attention to Caroline. She was standing apart, tears silently pouring down her cheeks, one hand pressed to her forehead shielding her eyes, the other gripping the back of the nearest chair.

  ‘Caroline, come.’ Peter opened wide his arms and she went to him. A safe anchorage was what she needed and that was what she got.

  ‘My darling girl. I’m so sorry. So very sorry. I’d no idea things had gone that far.’

  ‘But Peter, I did say.’

  ‘Yes, and I was easing her out but you invited her back.’

  ‘I know. I know.’

  Peter wiped her eyes for her and kissed her eyelids. ‘No more crying. The matter is finished or it will be when I’ve dealt with it.’

  ‘She said how much she loved coming to our house because it was so welcoming and warm, and of course that won me over. I couldn’t believe it when I heard myself saying she could come back.’

  Peter groaned. ‘I was even so blind that I complimented her on her clothes this morning.’

  ‘You’re too kind. I couldn’t stop Sylvia; she was so wild she wouldn’t listen to sense. She was like a terrier.’ Caroline took out her handkerchief and wiped her eyes again. ‘She’s no fool, she saw through Louise from the word go. Peter, what are we going to do? You’ve lost your secretary and I’ve lost my housekeeper.’

  ‘Come and sit on my knee.’ He seated himself in Caroline’s rocking chair and she perched on his knee. With her head on his shoulder and his hand caressing her arm, he said, ‘I shall deal with Madam Sylvia after lunch when tempers have cooled. Don’t worry, Willie and I will sort it out. We’ve a good understanding, him and me.’

  ‘Will you sort Louise too?’

  Peter gave her a grim smile. ‘I’ll have to work at that. She’s harder to solve than Sylvia. Can’t leave it as it is now, though.’

  ‘There’s going to be no end to the pain, is there? I think the answer is for us to leave here and make a fresh start somewhere else, where no one knows. But it would break my heart to do that. I love it here.’

  Peter gripped her tightly and gently shook her. ‘So do I. So do I. But, I promise you faithfully here and now, if things get too bad for you, Caroline, then move we shall. The decision is entirely yours.’

  ‘Oh Peter, I wish I was a million miles from here, right now, just for a while.’

  ‘I wish you were too. Well, I mean all of us together a million miles away. Never mind, not long now and we shall be away. For two blissful weeks.’

  ‘Devon, here we come. I won’t have Louise back. I’m sorry, I know I’m trespassing, but I won’t.’

  ‘Neither will I. That’s it – finished. I must have been a complete fool not to have noticed the way things were going. Sorry.’

  ‘I’m sorry for her at bottom. She must be desperate.’

  Peter kissed her. ‘You’re so kind, Dr Harris.’

  ‘So are you. What a mess. I feel drained. Such a scene in my own kitchen. It will be a while before I get over this, and the children too, they were so upset. I’m glad they’re still too young to understand. However, must get on. I’ll start lunch. Finished, my little ones? Come on, then, down you get.’

  ‘They are your little ones, Caroline, they truly are.’

  ‘I think so myself sometimes.’

  ‘Don’t doubt it. They went into shock when you were away. So difficult to handle. Sylvia did wonders but they wanted you.’

  ‘Whilst I make the lunch, you’d better occupy your mind with how we’ll get Sylvia back. That’s the phone – will you take it or shall I?’

  He tipped her off his knee and went to answer it.

  After he’d eaten lunch, Peter went next door to apologise to Sylvia. He knocked at their cottage door and Willie answered it.

  ‘Ahh, Rector. Just having a bite of lunch with my Sylvia. In need of some company, she was.’ His look held an element of disapproval.

  ‘Good afternoon, Willie. Come to make sure you’ve found the details for the grave that has to be dug. I left them in your tray. It’s an old one, not been opened for more than fifty years.’

  ‘I know that one, sir. My father was the last one to open it. It’s nearer sixty years. Leave it to me. Now the weather’s warmed up, ’spect we shall have a few more graves to dig. It always ’appens. Freezing weather, they all stay alive. Warms up and Bob’s yer uncle, they drop like flies.’

  Peter whispered, ‘Can I speak to Sylvia?’

  ‘She’s very upset and so am I. She was only defending Dr Harris.’

  ‘I know, it’s all such a mess. But can I speak to her – to apologise?’

  ‘I’ll ask.’ Willie went back inside and Peter thought he could hear some agitated whispering. He strained to listen but couldn’t make out the words.

  After a few moments Willie came back. ‘Yes, sir, Sylvia’s in.’ He gave Peter the thumbs-down sign, which he acknowledged with a rueful grin. ‘I’ll be off then, Rector, and leave you to it.’

  Peter bent his head and went in. The ceilings in Willie’s cottage were much lower than in the rectory, and he had to keep his head bent. He found Sylvia in the sitting room, in an armchair, twisting her handkerchief round and round her fingers.

  ‘May I sit down? It’s so uncomfortable for me to stand.’

  ‘Of course. Yes, of course.’

  Simultaneously they both said, ‘I want to apologise for—’

  Peter raised his hand to stop her speaking. ‘No, Sylvia, I’ve come to apologise. You were only guilty of putting up a spirited defence of my wife and our children. I was so angry at the whole situation and even more angry with myself for not having realised the way the wind blew. You didn’t deserve what I said. So I’m here to apologise most sincerely to you and to ask if we can let bygones be bygones and, please, will you possibly be able to consider coming back to the rectory?’

  ‘I don’t even have to consider it. Of course I’ll come back. Working for Dr Harris is so … well so … She’s a lovely person to work for and I love your children, I really do. They help to make up for not having any of my own, even if they are little devils!’

  ‘Which they are, I have to confess.’

  ‘But – and it’s a big “but”.’

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘I won’t come back unless I have your absolute firm promise that Louise doesn’t come near the rectory. If she does, I shall probably throttle her. Please, sir, if you value your family, don’t have her back. I know I’ve no business talking to a clergyman like this, you’re much too clever to need advice from me, but I’ve got to say it. She’s trouble.’

  ‘You have my solemn promise.’

  ‘In that case then I’ll be back. I’ll just get my coat.’

  ‘No, don’t do that. Leave it until tomorrow. Have the rest of the day to yourself. And thank you for accepting my apology. I can’t bear for Caroline to be hurt, and she was hurt, badly hurt.’

  ‘I know. And I’m sorry. Very sorry for the way I behaved, but I was so angry.’ Sylvia stood up. ‘I won’t keep you. So long as we have an understanding, that’s all that matters.’ She smiled at him. ‘I didn’t know you had such a temper. It was quite a revelation.’

  ‘Sorry.’

  ‘Thank you for coming round.’

  Peter came out of the cottage and went to stand by the pond on the Green. Jimmy’s
geese came hustling forward in the hope that he would be feeding them.

  ‘Sorry chaps, no bread today. I envy you your uncomplicated lives. How I envy you. Still, with a brain the size of a walnut, or it could even be the size of a pea, I suppose I can’t expect you to solve problems like mine. I’ve solved one and now I’m off to sort out another. Do you have any advice to offer?’ They honked busily. ‘No, I didn’t think you would have. I shall have to leave it to the Lord to help me find the right words.’

  The door of the Bissetts’ cottage was slightly ajar when Peter knocked. ‘Hellooo! Peter here, from the rectory. May I come in?’

  Chapter 11

  The story of Peter turning Louise and Sylvia out of the rectory was round the village in no time at all. By the middle of the afternoon, the main topic of conversation in The Royal Oak was what on earth had taken place to make him do such a thing. A peace-loving man like him, chucking the two of them out? Well, they knew he had a temper. Look at the time he confronted them all when they were stoning Beryl and Gwen’s house. Or that time they turned against Alan Crimble when he ran Flick Charter-Plackett down and she was laid almost lifeless in Church Lane. But even so …

  Most likely it was to do with Sylvia running the cake-stall at the Show for the Red Cross. That Louise wasn’t half bossy if she took a mind.

  Jimmy Glover knew different. ‘I reckon that Louise has gone crackers. When she rushed across home after she’d been turned out she was wearing Dr Harris’s clothes.’

  ‘Don’t be daft. How could she be?’

  ‘Well, I saw ’er and she was. True as I’m ’ere, or if they wasn’t Dr Harris’s they was a dead spit.’

  ‘Well, we all know she ’as her eye on the rector. Perhaps fancied looking like Dr Harris to tempt him.’

  ‘Take a lot more than looking like Dr Harris to make anyone be tempted with her!’ The speaker chuckled into his beer.

  ‘I reckon that’s why she volunteered to help him, ’cos she fancies him.’

  ‘Anyways, let’s face it, he wouldn’t be tempted by ’er!’

  ‘No, course he wouldn’t. It’s her doing the running, that’s what. Desperate for a bit of that there ’ere and she fancies him, made her feelings plain and Sylvia’s ’ad a row with her.’

  ‘Good at her job though. Made a right improvement to the weekly church newsletter, and I hear the magazine’s been hyped-up no end.’

  ‘Not saying she isn’t good at her job, but she’s no business stirring it at the rectory.’

  ‘Wonder what he said to her when he went across there this afternoon?’

  ‘Didn’t know he’d been.’

  ‘Oh, he has. He went to Willie and Sylvia’s then across to see her. There quite a while he was.’

  ‘What you been doing then all afternoon? Sat looking out the window?’

  ‘Day off. Felt like a rest, but it’s been that busy with the comings an’ goings I might as well ’ave been working.’

  The conversation turned to the Show and who would win the prizes in the vegetable section. They plumped for Willie winning the beans and Barry’s mother the Victoria sponge and the cut flowers like usual.

  Peter was in his study thinking over what he’d said to Louise.

  When he’d first gone there and called through the open door, it was Sheila who’d come to speak to him.

  ‘Good afternoon, Sheila. I was hoping for a word with Louise. Is she in? I see her car’s outside.’

  ‘Oh, good afternoon, Rector.’ Peter knew he was in trouble if Sheila Bissett called him ‘Rector’. ‘Coming to make things straight with her, are you?’

  ‘I’d like to talk, yes.’

  ‘She’s very upset and she won’t tell me what’s happened – except she keeps blaming you. After all she’s done for you and not a penny piece in return, all voluntary and she comes home in that state! It wasn’t right.’

  ‘Is she in? Can I have a word?’

  ‘I’ll go and see. I think she’s in bed. Wait there.’ She left him standing in the little hall, while she went upstairs. After a few minutes, she came back down and said, ‘Louise won’t come down, but she says will you go up?’

  ‘I don’t think so. If she wants me to wait while she dresses then I will, but it’s imperative I speak with her.’

  Sheila climbed the stairs again. After a few minutes she returned, followed by Louise who was wearing the clothes she’d had on earlier in the day. Her hair was well-brushed and combed, her make-up meticulous and she was looking subdued and cautious as though afraid of saying the wrong thing yet again.

  ‘Good afternoon, Louise. Can we sit down somewhere?’

  ‘Of course, how nice of you to come to apologise.’ She led the way into the sitting room and pointed to the largest and most comfortable chair in the room. ‘Sit here, it’ll be better for you with your long legs.’

  Louise seated herself in a smaller chair quite close to his own and waited. Peter had realised instantly that this could prove to be the most difficult conversation of his life.

  ‘Firstly, Louise, I have not come to apologise. Not for losing my temper, not for turning you out, not for anything at all. I have come to say that I am afraid I cannot permit you to come to the rectory any more. What you said this morning – well, the bit I heard – was the truth. What was unforgivable was for you to say it in the manner you did and in front of Caroline and our children.’

  ‘Just a moment. Have I got this right? What I said was true but it had to be left unsaid?’

  ‘Yes. Positively yes. Caroline and I shall decide when the time is ripe to tell the children. Also, this business of dressing like my wife …’

  ‘That was not my intention at all. It was pure coincidence, but of course I shan’t be believed. You prefer to believe someone who is only a servant.’

  ‘Sylvia is not a servant, nor is she a fool. Even I, when it was pointed out to me, recognised that this was what you had done. It’s just not on, Louise. Someone in my position has to be very circumspect …’

  ‘Of course you have. I wouldn’t want it otherwise. I know a clergyman must be very careful not to compromise himself in any way, so I have never given you one moment’s cause for concern.’

  ‘No, I suppose that is true. You haven’t, but there is this feeling …’

  ‘Don’t worry, Peter. I know how difficult it must be for you, sandwiched as you are between two domineering women. It must be very hard for such a gentle person like yourself. You need to keep the peace with Caroline, and if that means hanging on to Sylvia then that is what you must do.’ Peter tried to protest, but Louise rushed on with what she had to say. ‘You and I will sort it out. First, I have a word-processor here in my room which I could quite easily use for doing the church typing. You leave the tapes here, with your little machine as you so charmingly call it, I’ll do the work and you can collect it. How’s that for an idea? Just because things are difficult at the rectory it shouldn’t mean that you miss out on secretarial help.’

  ‘If you get a job, then …’

  ‘I can always do it in my spare time. Don’t you worry about that.’ As she spoke Louise allowed her hand to rest on his knee for a moment. Because his mind had been scrabbling around for reasons why this scheme wouldn’t work, Peter hadn’t drawn away immediately and through his cassock he’d felt the warm pressure of her hand. He’d sensed there was more to it than sympathy and he knew he had to make a stand.

  He moved his leg away from her hand, but Louise continued speaking in the same vein. ‘Two intelligent human beings like us, you see, have found a solution, haven’t we? You and your family are very dear to me, Peter. I wouldn’t dream of doing anything to disrupt your family life. Not at all. And I mean that. Let’s try out our new scheme and see how it goes. A little adjustment on both sides and it should work splendidly.’

  At this point Peter stood up. ‘I’m afraid not. It won’t do. I want to thank you for all you’ve done these last couple of months – no one has been more grateful
than I for your efforts – but I have to call a halt. I’m sorry but there it is. I’ll say good afternoon now. I sincerely hope that this little misunderstanding will not affect your coming to church. I would be very upset if it did. You have a splendid contribution to make to the life of this village and I hope you’ll go from strength to strength. Thank you, Louise.’ He proffered his hand for her to shake. She held it with both her own.

  ‘I can’t believe you’re saying this to me. Not after all we’ve meant to each other. I’m indispensable to you and well you know it. You’re allowing Caroline, and Sylvia too, to dictate to you against your better judgement. It all stems from their jealousy of me. All I’ve ever wanted is to be useful to you in whatever capacity you need.’

  Peter extracted his hand from her tight grip and said, ‘There’s nothing more to say. I’m going now. Perhaps when you’ve thought it over you’ll realise I’ve made the best decision. Pray about it. That way you’ll come to terms, and understand why I have said what I have, I’m sure you will.’

  ‘I shan’t. Not ever.’

  Sheila was dusting her ornaments in the hall as Peter left.

  ‘Good afternoon, Sheila. I think we’ve got the position clear now. See you in church on Sunday. Bye bye.’

  ‘Bye bye, Peter.’

  He walked home and went immediately to his study. He’d done all he could, but he had an uneasy feeling that this was not the end.

  The moment he’d shut the door, Sheila raced into the sitting room to have a word with Louise.

  ‘Well, what did he say?’

  Louise stretched as though she hadn’t a care in the world. She laid her head back against the cushion and smiled. ‘Right now he’s doing exactly as those two women have said he should. But I haven’t worked closely with him all these weeks not to know him through and through. He doesn’t want to do as they say. He wants me to stay working for him in his study. He relies on me, you see, Mother. Just wait another day or two, a week at most, and when the work starts piling up, he’ll be back. The poor man, I feel desperately sorry for him.’