A Village Feud Page 13

  ‘You’re right there. But it must be hard work. Keeping it open over Christmas though, the crafty beggar.’

  Beth smiled. ‘Maybe Harriet will change his mind for him.’

  ‘Maybe, though she’s never been involved in the shop very much, has she? More into the cooking and that, is Harriet. Come to think of it, we’re lucky to have her, aren’t we? Them cakes and puddings she makes for the freezer and that. And those gateaux she cuts into single slices so you can buy just one slice for yer tea. I treat myself sometimes and get a slice. Delicious, they are.’

  The two of them discussed which of Harriet’s cakes they liked the best, and fell to dreaming about them. Beth was on her second cup of tea when Dottie realized the time and leapt to her feet. ‘My God! Oh! sorry! Anna will be here soon and I haven’t lifted a finger.’

  Beth sat where she was, thinking. A slice of one of Harriet’s cakes for tea would be lovely. She had all her spending money saved up so she could easily buy one each for her and Mummy. In fact, it would be nice if she bought a slice for Dottie, too. Could she dare do that? She propped her elbows on the table and rested her chin on her hands and thought about leaving the house, walking round the Green, opening the door and hearing that dear little bell jingling as she walked in. Like old times. Yes, just like old times. Could she, though? Could she really walk all that way by herself, absolutely alone? It would be fun to give Mummy a surprise. It would be lovely to talk to Jimbo.

  Better still, it would be nice to give Dottie a surprise. She’d been so kind talking to her like she did. She was so easy to talk to. Dottie was Dottie, full stop. No airs and graces, just, straight-from-the-shoulder talk. No one else had asked her in plain terms what had happened. Plenty of talk about how she felt, would she be able to go out soon? Did she need someone qualified to talk to? Anything and everything but the vital question. Beth shuddered.

  Even her mother, who loved her so, couldn’t bear, didn’t dare, face up to the fact that she might have been raped. But Dottie could and did, and it had helped enormously to say no, she hadn’t.

  This would be the test of tests, and all she had to do to prove it was to open the door. Beth swallowed hard. Open the door, walk round the Green, a thing she’d done a thousand times before Africa, and walk into the shop. Buy three slices of cake – no, four slices of cake because Alex would be back for tea and she couldn’t leave him out. She dwelt for a moment on Alex and the true value of having a brave brother, and decided he deserved a whole cake not just one slice. But that would not be right. Such overt gratitude might open a whole can of worms by making people suspicious and that would never do. Beth didn’t even stop to clear the table or clean her teeth. She got her purse out, checked her appearance in the hall mirror and left. If she stopped to tell anyone where she was going she’d never make it.

  It felt strange out there in the open air. Each step felt like a mile but she kept concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other, steadily, rhythmically, working hard, controlling every movement.

  Grandmama Charter-Plackett was outside her house, supervising the window-cleaner, and asked her how she was. ‘No school yet?’

  Beth almost turned and ran all the way home. ‘No, not yet.’

  ‘Nice to see you out, though.’

  Beth hurried along down Stocks Row to the Store. She stood admiring Jimbo’s initial Christmas display. He always did two; one on 1 December and the other on the last Saturday before Christmas. The first was entirely commercial and the second was a Nativity scene, which never failed to be more beautiful than any that had gone before. Then Beth read the notice, stuck up on the door the previous day. ‘With regret,’ it began. Nothing but the longing for a slice of Harriet’s gateau could possibly have got her here. Well, now she was here, so she’d better go in.

  Beth pushed open the door and headed straight for the desserts freezer, determined to make her purchase and leave as quickly as possible before she met anyone. But not a single cake had been sliced, they were all whole. Now what? Jimbo miraculously appeared beside her.

  ‘Can I help?’ he asked softly. He was propped on his crutches, smiling, not asking challenging questions like Grandmama had, just standing there being normal, but extra, extra kind.

  ‘I want four slices of gateau, please. The chocolate fudge one.’

  ‘Right. Your wish is my command.’

  Beth froze. She should never have come, her courage had all but drained away. She was about to run when Jimbo laid a hand on her arm and whispered, ‘Don’t go without your cake. Hold tight to the freezer and don’t let go.’

  So she did. If he offered to give her the slices of cake she wouldn’t let him. She had to pay for them herself, or the whole thing would be a waste of time.

  Someone, she didn’t know who, sliced the cake, wrapped each piece separately, put them in one of Jimbo’s fancy boxes and handed it to her. She held it by its fancy ribbon and went to the till. It took all her courage to say, ‘Four slices of chocolate fudge gateau’, hand out the money, accept the change and get herself out of the Store.

  Out on the pavement was Jimbo, waiting for her.

  He raised his boater to her and said, ‘Good day to you, Beth. You’re my best customer of the day.’

  ‘Don’t close the Store, Jimbo. Please.’ She gave him a small smile and scurried away, scared she might not find her way back home so confused was she in her mind.

  She let herself in and stood listening in the hall. She could hear Anna on the computer in her dad’s study. Dottie upstairs vacuuming. Mum? Where was she?

  Beth put the gateau into the fridge for safekeeping, then went to look for her mother. She was on the phone in the sitting room discussing a locum position at one of the local medical practices. So … she was thinking of going back to medicine. Beth’s world crashed about her. She fled for her bed and hid under the duvet forever.

  When she’d finished on the phone Caroline went to find her.

  ‘Darling? There you are. I thought I heard the front door closing. Have you been out?’ But there was no response. Caroline tried cajoling, being forceful, persuasive, understanding, curious. But to no avail. So she decided abandonment might bring a response and left saying, ‘Well, when you’re ready, come down. I’m not going out.’

  There was not a sound in Beth’s bedroom for the rest of the day. Caroline crept upstairs twice to see if she was still under the duvet and she was. Out of her mind with anxiety, Caroline spent an absolutely useless day, never quite achieving anything of any value except an e-mail to Peter. Not wanting to worry him, she didn’t mention that Beth had apparently resigned from life. If only she could share her anxieties with him. She finished by telling Peter about pieces of news in Turnham Malpas and how much she missed him:

  … Darling, I count the days awaiting your return. It feels so lonely without you, but not nearly so lonely as you must feel for you haven’t even got the children to comfort you as I have. They send their love and we remember you daily in our prayers. Don’t delay in July. Quite simply, come home where you’re wanted so very much.

  Yours,

  Caroline

  No sooner had she sent it than one came from Peter. It arrived so quickly after she’d sent hers, that it obviously wasn’t a reply. His read:

  To my three dearest people on earth,

  I am sitting out in my garden. Well, what passes for a garden; it has been so dry lately the crops will be failing again if we don’t get rain soon. The Commander, Michael Amouti, has found the money for the school and it is being built as I speak. I shall use some of the money the village raised to equip it. I can’t think of a better use for it, can you? Michael is being his pleasant self, coming to keep me company and helping in any way he can. However, I feel uneasy, quite why I don’t know, but I do. Nothing, I expect really, just me missing the advice of my common sense wife.

  Elijah has just come in, with devastating news. Michael has been found dead in a local rubbish tip. Elijah declares it is becau
se of what he allowed to happen when the uprising was on. I pray to God there is no revenge for his death.

  I do hope the children are recovering well. I think of you all every day, and wish I was with you, but for the moment I am bent on succeeding here. Then I can, with no conscience whatever, come home and stay there. I fancy fishing with Alex, swimming with Beth and a pleasant evening reading and talking with my very dear wife.

  Elijah and Winsome send their love. So do I. Much love, in fact, all my love to the three of you.

  Peter

  Just as she finished reading Caroline heard Alex’s key in the door, and quickly erased Peter’s e-mail so he wouldn’t be able to read it.

  ‘Darling! Good day? The usual?’

  ‘Yes, please.’ He sat down at the kitchen table and asked, ‘Where’s Beth?’

  ‘In bed.’

  ‘I’ll go see her.’

  ‘She may not speak.’

  Alex looked at Caroline. Caroline looked at Alex and thought, he looked more like his father every day. There was Peter’s kind of strength about him, and his compassion, too. He’d become a grown-up in Africa.

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ She went to get the milk out of the fridge and Alex went up the stairs two at a time.

  ‘Beth, what’s up?’ He jiggled her foot to get her attention.

  ‘Alex?’

  ‘Yes.’

  The rising hysteria in her voice alarmed him. ‘Alex, I heard Mummy on the phone organizing going back to general practice. I can’t bear it. I’ll have to go to school. She won’t do it, will she?’

  ‘Come out from under the duvet. I can’t tell what you’re saying.’

  Beth slowly emerged, hot and tousled.

  ‘Sit up and shape up. It’s me, you can talk to me.’

  Beth, as she’d always done, did as he said and told him again.

  Alex smiled sympathetically. ‘Look, I’m sure Mum wouldn’t go back to general practice knowing it would mean you going back to school when you don’t want to. I’m going downstairs to ask her, right now.’

  Beth shot under the duvet again and Alex went to ask Caroline.

  ‘Mum. Beth’s frightened to death she’ll have to go back to school. She’s got the idea you’re returning to general practice. Are you?’

  ‘No, I am not. She must have overheard me on the phone. They rang up to see if I could go back because they’ve a maternity leave problem but if she’d listened a while longer she’d have found out I refused. Go and tell her.’

  ‘You mustn’t, you know, Mum. She must not and I mean not be left alone. She needs you.’

  ‘Does she? Then why won’t she tell me what troubles her? I’ve tried one way and another and keep hoping, but she won’t breathe a word to me. The days go by and she makes no progress at all. Come to think of it, neither of you will tell me what has made you so afraid. Can you not tell me?’

  Alex didn’t reply.

  ‘If your father were here you’d tell him, I bet. Is it because I’m not your natural mother? Is that it? I feel as though I am, and always have done.’

  Alex stood in the doorway, unable to find words to express why they couldn’t tell Caroline what had happened. ‘It’s not that. We just can’t, that’s all.’ He turned on his heel and went upstairs.

  Alex relayed Caroline’s message to Beth and immediately she cheered up. She took in a deep breath and said, ‘That’s a relief. I need more time. I’m not brave like you.’

  ‘I’m not brave. I just pretend to be, I’m terribly afraid, so I keep plugging away doing normal things, hoping it will all go away, but it doesn’t. But we’d no alternative, had we?’

  Beth shook her head. ‘None. I still shudder when I—’

  Alex urgently said, ‘Don’t. Don’t think about it. Push it to the back of your mind. Dad’ll be home before we know it, then we can tell him. We’ve just got to make things as normal as we can till he’s back.’

  Beth put her arms round Alex’s neck and hugged him to her. ‘He’ll have the answers. I might make a target of getting back to school in the New Year. I’ve been to the Store and bought us some of Harriet’s gateau. Tell Mum it’s in the fridge. I’ll be down in a minute. We can have it now instead of toast.’

  Alex was amazed. ‘You’ve been out?’

  Beth nodded. ‘I was frightened to death and nearly didn’t make it, but I did.’

  ‘That’s good. I’m glad. Once you do it, it’s not too bad. I’m all right at school, and going on the school bus is fine. I couldn’t go on public transport, though. I still don’t do games and I’ve explained why – all that open space; I just can’t cope – and they say, “Fine, when you’re ready.” You’d be OK if you tried it. On the school bus. We could sit together.’

  Beth flung back the duvet and put her feet on the floor. ‘I’m coming down. But I’m not going to school. Not yet.’

  So the three of them sat round the kitchen table and ate their gateau, got chocolate moustaches and chocolatey fingers, and licked them and laughed. Caroline began to feel hopeful and didn’t say a word of praise to Beth for going to the Store all on her own. She thought accepting it as perfectly normal was by far the best thing to do. She felt enormously cheered.

  *

  Jimbo found that Beth getting as far as the Store was the only thing that lifted his spirits that day. But the regret that everyone expressed about the store closing down almost persuaded him he shouldn’t close it. Harriet, of course, and his mother were stupefied by his decision.

  ‘Look, Jimbo, we’re having a bad run – your ankle, the windows and the poison pen letters all sent to try us – but we’ll get over it like we’ve done before. Remember when Fran was born and Flick had her accident? We didn’t know which way to turn, and our world appeared to fall in on top of us, but we survived. Didn’t we?’

  ‘I agree. But nothing you say can change my mind. Health and Safety are coming tomorrow, they rang to say. So that beggar has informed them like he said he would. I could kill him.’

  ‘You’re in no fit state to kill anyone so you can pipe down. At least if we’re closing it might take the ground from under their feet, whoever it is. Might make them pack it up, eh?’ She grabbed him by his shoulders and gave him a shake. ‘Love you!’

  Jimbo kissed her. ‘Thank you for getting on so well with my mother.’

  ‘She’s a brick. She’s needed, that’s why she’s easier to get on with. You’re to have tomorrow off, right? Your mother and I have planned it. You can do as you like … so long as it’s nothing.’

  ‘Can’t. Health and Safety day.’

  ‘Let’s put it this way: if I get an emergency with him I’ll send for you. OK?’

  Jimbo had to confess to himself that he could manage a day doing nothing very nicely indeed. He’d take the chance while he could. Then an appalling feeling of guilt overwhelmed him. This wasn’t the Jimbo of old. What had happened to him? Old age? Surely not.

  Jimbo might have thought things couldn’t get worse but the following morning Tom was on the phone by a quarter past seven. ‘Jimbo, Tom here. Sorry to be ringing so early, but … well, I might as well tell you straight off. You’ve to be told, I have to say it. Someone’s thrown bright red paint all over the front of the Store. Both windows and the door, most on the glass, some on the brickwork.’

  There was prolonged silence from Jimbo’s end of the phone. Then eventually Jimbo said, ‘I’ll be there. Don’t let anyone tread it into the Store, right?’ Wryly he added, ‘I don’t suppose they left an address?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Thought not.’ He put the receiver down and gave Harriet a gentle shake. ‘Darling, I’ve got to go.’

  ‘Where to?’

  ‘To the Store. Don’t get upset.’

  ‘There must be something wrong or you wouldn’t say that.’

  ‘Tom’s rung to say someone’s thrown red paint all over the shop front.’

  Harriet flung herself back onto her pillo
ws. ‘I can’t believe this. Right, I’m coming with you.’ She flung the duvet off and put her feet on the floor, then paused. ‘Oh, God, I feel terrible.’

  ‘You’ve got up too quickly. I’ll have a quick wash and then I’m off. Shan’t shave. Bring some old cloths with you, when you come, I’m taking my spare petrol can, there’s a couple of gallons in there which should do the trick.’ He said all this while hurriedly throwing on the clothes he’d taken off the night before.

  Harriet made a move to get up – she felt so desperately sorry for him. ‘Don’t let anyone light a cigarette. I won’t be long.’

  When Harriet arrived with a heap of cloths, she was appalled at what she saw. The venom which had initiated this wild attack was too frightening even to contemplate.

  Jimbo was pouring petrol into a bucket so he and Tom could soak the cloths in it. ‘Good. Lots of cloths. That’s the spirit.’

  ‘You need rubber gloves. I’ll get some.’

  ‘Mind where you walk!’

  She stepped as carefully as she could between the streams of red paint trickling along the pavement and under the seat out at the front. Tears were very close to the surface. She’d promised Jimbo a day doing nothing – what a hope.

  Harriet rang the police before Tom and Jimbo started cleaning the front. They promised to come immediately. When they came they went through the usual questioning procedure and finished by saying, ‘Mrs Charter-Plackett, is there anyone you can think of who has a grudge against you?’

  ‘The only person we know is someone called Andy Moorhouse. He lives next door to the Rectory. He’s been bringing food back he claims he’s bought from us and asking for a refund because he says it’s gone off. Last time Jimbo refused to refund him the money and told him not to shop here again. He’s the only one we know who might have a grudge.’

  ‘It wasn’t genuine, then?’

  ‘Absolutely not. We’re extremely conscientious about selling fresh food. Ask the Health and Safety – they know how careful we are.’