Intrigue in the Village (Turnham Malpas 10) Read online

  ‘Yes, we heard that,’ said Karen from Year Seven. ‘He’s a millionaire.’

  Scornfully Paul retorted, ‘He isn’t.’

  ‘Mrs Turner got told by the spirits she would and she did,’ said Phil Bliss.

  Kate laughed. ‘The spirits! What spirits?’

  ‘Them what come when Mrs Dobbs does her seance,’ said Karen.

  ‘What nonsense is this?’

  Karen gave a long rambling description, grossly exaggerated, about the evening when Mrs Turner had heard she was to have a win. ‘They say it’s all dark and scary and ghosts come to dance on the walls.’

  ‘Well, I think you’ve all got it wrong. I’m glad Mrs Turner’s won some money, though. Those little twins of hers go through clothes like nobody’s business. Mrs Dobbs doesn’t communicate with the spirits, because no one can.’

  Karen stoutly declared that Kate was wrong. ‘She does, Mrs Fitch, honest. You ask her. Them old Senior sisters, the ones you can’t tell which is which, they go. Honest.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Oh yes. They calls up the dead people and they speak. They calls ’em up every week on Fridays.’ Karen rolled her eyes and the rest of the children made spooky sounds, nudged each other and giggled in pretend fright.

  Kate sat looking at her class squatting on the carpet in front of her and thought there might be some truth in what they were saying. Even Karen, with her vivid imagination, couldn’t think up something like this without it being at least partly true.

  Karen put up her hand again. ‘And Mrs Jones from down Church Hill, she’s had a letter from their Terry and she hasn’t heard from him for years. Mrs Dobbs got a message from the spirits for Mrs Jones and they told her that their Terry was well and happy and he’s a millionaire in . . . where was it? Oh yes, New Zealand.’

  Another child obviously seriously attracted by the idea of communicating with the dead asked if they could get Mrs Dobbs to have a seance at school for them. ‘I could have a word with my grandma. She was deaded when I was five. Mum would be pleased if I did.’

  ‘Perhaps Paul and Phil could talk with their dad. He’s dead, isn’t he? That’d be nice for Mrs Bliss.’

  Kate stamped on this idea immediately and channelled their thoughts into something less sensational by asking Robert Nightingale to show everyone where New Zealand was on the map on the back wall of the classroom. By posing some interesting questions about the country, she deftly drew their news time away from Mrs Dobbs and her activities.

  But at the end of the school day Kate went back to thinking about Maggie Dobbs’s Friday night seances and decided to have a word with her. Kate cleared her desk in her little office in good time and was sitting waiting for Maggie when she called out, ‘Is it free?’ and walked in.

  ‘Oh, sorry. I’ll come back.’

  ‘No, that’s fine. I just need a word. What’s all this business about then?’

  ‘What business?’

  ‘All this that’s going round the village about you and the spirits and ghosts on your walls?’

  ‘Don’t know what you’re talking about.’

  ‘You do.’

  ‘I don’t.’

  ‘Maggie!’ There was a warning note in her voice, which Maggie knew meant she wasn’t going to let the matter drop.

  ‘I know nothing. Can I get on now?’

  ‘Nothing?’

  ‘No, nothing.’

  ‘What you really mean is you don’t want to tell me.’

  Maggie shrugged. This was one secret Madame Fitch wasn’t going to get out of her, no matter how hard she tried.

  ‘The children say you hold a seance on Friday nights and call up spirits who send messages to you.’ Kate put her head on one side and looked questioningly at Maggie.

  ‘I never.’

  Astutely Kate declared, ‘I think you’re worried about it. In fact, very worried.’

  ‘I’m not. I’m here doing my work and earning my money and that’s that. In any case, my life outside this school is nothing to do with you.’

  ‘Quite right.’ Kate stood up. ‘However, if you do need someone to talk to, I’m a good listener.’

  Maggie listlessly wiped the windowsill and remarked, ‘Don Wright’s still holding his own, they say. Though they don’t know how.’

  ‘Good, I’m glad. Nice chap.’

  ‘Yes. I’ll press on then.’

  ‘Right.’ Kate picked up her briefcase, said goodnight and left. She hadn’t got far with that piece of investigation but she was damn well going to tackle Craddock about the Blisses’ cottage tonight and get a result. She’d tried once or twice since that fateful evening when she’d thought everything between her and Craddock was lost, but he’d stonewalled her just like Maggie had done now. However, the time had come.

  The housekeeper was on her evening off, so she and Craddock dined on the same meal as the students were having and found it as tasty and well prepared as only one of Jimbo’s staff could make it. ‘I’ll say this about Jimbo, he does know about food.’

  Craddock dabbed his mouth with his napkin. ‘He is excellent. He also knows how to keep the staff on their toes and they do it so willingly for him. I swear they’d poison us all quite cheerfully if he told them it was necessary. We could do with more people like Jimbo in the business, believe me.’

  Kate nodded her agreement and then came out in a rush with, ‘May I mention something that has been off our agenda for some time now, but can’t be ignored?’

  ‘Fire away, my dearest, there’s nothing you can’t discuss with me.’ Craddock lit his cigar and looked at Kate. ‘Well?’

  ‘The Blisses’ cottage in Little Derehams.’

  Cautiously Craddock answered, ‘Yes?’

  ‘Have the Social Services been round it yet?’

  ‘Not to my knowledge.’

  ‘Have you done anything about it?’

  ‘Me? Personally?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘They’re still living in that mess?’

  ‘I haven’t been to see.’

  Kate flung down her napkin and got to her feet. ‘You are asking me to live in luxury like this and yet you can allow those children to live in poverty? And you don’t care?’

  ‘Be careful, Kate, very careful. Don’t step over the line.’

  ‘Don’t step over a line you’ve drawn. I haven’t drawn any line. Where the health and welfare of my children are concerned, nothing and I repeat nothing will stop me fighting for them. It’s a disgrace, Craddock, an absolute disgrace that you are giving your name to such a state of affairs. They’ll all know in Little Derehams about your neglect, every man jack of them.’

  He had a wry smile on his face when he answered, ‘They will, I’ve no doubt. Everyone always knows what I’m doing.’

  ‘And you don’t care?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘I’m ashamed of you.’

  ‘Are you?’ A dangerous glint came in his eyes, which she noticed but ignored because she was so angry.

  ‘Yes. Why can’t you help them?’

  ‘If, if, I want to help them I shall, without any pressure from you or anyone else.’

  ‘But Craddock, why? Explain why you won’t help them.’ Kate sat down again and watched while he blew a ring of smoke up to the ceiling and wondered if he was aware what an incredibly sexy activity he made out of smoking his cigar.

  ‘I’ve explained I won’t be pushed into making decisions that are rightly mine to make. I shan’t repeat myself.’

  ‘Please, please, do it for me.’

  ‘Wheedling will bring even less of a result. As far as I am concerned, the matter is no longer up for discussion.’ He couldn’t pursue it. If he did, his right hand would certainly find out what his left hand was doing and she’d said it shouldn’t.

  ‘Please, darling?’ But she could see from the expression on his face that he’d finished with the whole matter. Well, she hadn’t. ‘I can’t understand such hard-hearte
d cruelty. Not from you. You’re not the hard villain everyone considers you to be. I know that. Look what you’ve given me, half your assets. Why can’t that side of you be uppermost all of the time?’

  ‘The difference is that I love you, like I’ve never loved anyone ever before. That’s why.’

  ‘It’s worth nothing to me if you can’t help that poor woman. She’s desperate.’

  Craddock appeared to ignore her but his eyes, half shut, were watching her very carefully. ‘Enough is enough, my dearest. Let’s go into the drawing room, and we’ll raid the drinks cupboard.’

  ‘No, thanks. I’d choke having a drink with you.’

  ‘Kate!’

  ‘I would. You’re a viciously hard businessman and I can’t think why on earth I ever thought differently. You’ll have to come to your senses, Craddock. You’re inhuman if you don’t.’

  Mr Fitch shot to his feet, his pale face flushing and his fury at her accusation all too evident in his eyes. ‘I won’t have this. Enough is enough. I don’t wish to have the matter mentioned again’ He stormed out of the dining room.

  Kate stood listening and was astounded when she heard his car starting up. The wheels spun on the gravel as he let in the clutch and she heard the roar of his Rolls as it sped away down the drive at a furious pace. Craddock driving himself? No chauffeur?

  Her legs turned weak and she held on to the back of her chair to steady herself. If only he’d see how right it was to put that cottage in order. Damn and blast! Whatever had made her say he was inhuman? What a fool she was. She’d never get the hang of this marriage business if she lived to be a hundred. His mobile! He never went out without it. She’d ring and apologize. No, she wouldn’t. Yes, she would. No, she wouldn’t. He’d have to come round to her way of thinking.

  An hour later, when there’d been no sign of his return, she rang his mobile. The words on the tip of her tongue were, ‘Darling, please, I’m so sorry.’ But she never got the chance to say them; his mobile was switched off. She tried again an hour later, but there was still no reply.

  Kate went to bed, sorrowing.

  She woke early the next morning with a pain inside herself, which puzzled her for a moment until she remembered the row of the night before. She reached out her hand to feel for Craddock beside her but he wasn’t there. Rolling over on to the side of the bed where he should have been sleeping, she tried to comfort herself but it wouldn’t work. The sheets on his half were cold and the pillow felt harder than a rock, so she rolled back to her own half, warmed it up again and lay dwelling on her distress.

  He’d been away a couple of times on business since they’d married and she’d pined then for the lack of his presence in the bed they shared, but this was ten thousand times worse because this time she didn’t even know where he was and, worse, he’d cut off her line of communication with him. Once, when he’d been away in Sweden for a couple of nights, he’d rung her during the night and they’d talked and talked and he’d said how he missed her beside him and she’d said how she missed him. But this time . . . there’d been no such call.

  Tears seeped slowly from under her closed eyelids and she brushed them away with the corner of the sheet. The defiant, independent, tough-minded, self-made woman called Kate was reduced to tears over a man. Hell’s bells! How she’d changed.

  She rose early and was in school only minutes after Maggie had arrived. She was thankful Maggie was early because at the last minute she hadn’t been able to find her own set of school keys.

  Maggie called out from the children’s coat room, ‘Who’s an early bird then? Couldn’t sleep?’

  ‘Something like that.’ Kate went straight to her office to sit at her desk and do some admin before the school woke up.

  Laid on her desk was a single red rose and a card. She put her thumb under the flap of the envelope and pushed it open. ‘My dearest, more sorry than I can say. C.’ She could almost feel the tenderness with which he’d placed the rose, and the love that had triumphed over his anger and forced him to try a reconciliation. Deep down, he must be gentle and loving. He hadn’t disappeared. He must have come back into the house and slept in the other bedroom without disturbing her.

  Kate picked up her bag and flew out to her car. She reversed and drove like fury back to Turnham House. She skidded to a stop on the gravel by the front door, leapt out and tore up the stairs to the flat, but there was no one there. The bed in the spare bedroom had been slept in, the breakfast table, laid for two, still had the used dishes on it. So he’d even had a quick breakfast after she’d left the house. Her school keys she found on the table by the bedside in the spare bedroom.

  She left the flat and went out to the garage where his car was always kept when not in use. It was already gone. Damn him for playing games with her. She’d have to be patient and wait for him.

  At school that day the children found Kate preoccupied and willing to be relaxed over just about everything. She was so unlike her usual organized, enthusiastic self that the children took advantage of her mood, and by two o’clock she’d abandoned timetables and they were all painting and drawing and generally messing about as only children can. One half of Kate was angry about the lapse in discipline, the other was worrying about Craddock and whatever she would say to him when he got back from the office.

  Maggie had seen the rose, taken note of Kate’s obvious distraction and put entirely the wrong interpretation on it. The natural assumption for anyone who even half knew Craddock Fitch was that it couldn’t possibly be him. Not in a month of Sundays, because where his heart should have been there was a lump of concrete.

  Maggie was in the Store almost before the school bell rang for the beginning of the school day, behind the tinned soups, divulging this juicy piece of information to any who cared to listen.

  ‘No! He couldn’t have.’ This from Mealy Mouth, who was getting her shopping done before the Store got busy. ‘Not him.’

  Maggie nodded in agreement. ‘So what conclusion can we come to? Eh? I ask yer.’

  ‘Why! It’s disgusting. Married only a few weeks and she’s started that already.’ Mealy Mouth hunched her shoulders and said confidently, “Course, I knew it was only a matter of time, there being such an age difference. It stands to reason.’

  ‘Exactly, all I can say is think of the alimony.’

  Mealy Mouth rolled her eyes and pursed her lips. ‘I should say.’

  They were unaware that Muriel, getting her shopping before going over to the school to play for the Maypole dancing, was standing behind the pair of them while she chose some soup for lunch.

  ‘Mrs Dobbs! I am appalled that you can speak in that manner about something of which you know nothing. Shame on you.’

  Muriel hadn’t raised her voice so much as a decibel but had put just the right amount of emphasis on her words to make Maggie and Mealy Mouth feel embarrassed.

  ‘Did you see who put the rose on her desk?’

  Maggie shook her head.

  ‘Well, then, you actually don’t know, so you shouldn’t gossip. We’ve all jumped to the wrong conclusion about Kate and Craddock. I really believe they have genuine’ – she was thinking of saying love but it didn’t quite equate with what she knew of Craddock Fitch so she changed it to – ‘affection for each other.’

  Maggie answered grudgingly, ‘Maybe you’re right. Shan’t say another word.’

  ‘That’s good. Ah! Here it is.’ Muriel popped a tin of Jimbo’s specially imported chicken soup into her wire basket and went on her way. But Maggie was undeterred. Waiting until Muriel was well out of earshot, she muttered, ‘Well, I shall think what I like. There’s something going on. Believe me.’

  ‘I know the housekeeper there, I’ll have a word. On the right day she can be very chatty.’ Mealy Mouth nudged Maggie’s arm and winked.

  Muriel arrived at school with her thoughts about the rose firmly pushed to the back of her mind. But it was difficult to think nothing was happening; Kate was not her usual lively
self. But Muriel had a plan in mind and she was bursting to tell her.

  ‘Kate. I’ve been thinking.’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘We’ll have to make sure I’m absolutely right but isn’t it one hundred and fifty years this summer since the school was opened? I know the school house wasn’t built until 1855 because it says so on the lintel, but I’m sure the school itself was built in 1853. If I’m right, shouldn’t we have a celebration?’

  ‘Is it? Of course, the first log book . . . I looked at it a few weeks ago. I’ll check it again, but I’m sure you’re right. What a wonderful idea. We could invite everyone we know who’s been at the school.’

  ‘Past headteachers perhaps?’

  ‘Of course. Muriel, that’s a brilliant idea. I’ll give it some thought.’

  ‘We could have an exhibition of photographs. The children could give a performance and we ought to have a plaque or something to commemorate, or a tree planting or something permanent like that. And a meal. Perhaps a buffet because there’ll be lots of people there.’

  ‘On a Saturday, of course. Muriel, I could kiss you.’ Which she did.

  ‘And a thanksgiving service in the church. Perhaps the mayor from Culworth could come?’

  ‘Muriel! You are an inspiration. I herewith co-opt you on to the committee. Ah! Here come the children. I’ll leave you to get on.’

  Kate went back to her class, grateful that Muriel had thought of something to help block out her problem about Craddock. Would he or wouldn’t he be in the flat this evening?

  The merry strains of the Maypole dancing tunes eased the anguish bearing down on Kate’s soul and she recollected the love Craddock demonstrated to her. She knew in her heart of hearts this was simply a teething problem for two people finding themselves married, much to their surprise and not quite knowing how to deal with the situation. Yes, of course, that was it. A full-hearted apology was what was needed, even if she felt none of it was her fault, which it wasn’t.