Village Fortunes (Turnham Malpas 17) Read online

  ‘Just in case! You still could have had an accident, whether he was there behind you or not. And it wasn’t such a big deal on his part, he was on his way home himself seeing as he was living at Alice and Johnny’s.’

  ‘Dad. Honestly. He did care.’

  Harriet, seeing they were on the brink of a full-scale argument, interrupted. ‘Chris should never have let you drink six gins and then cheerfully let you drive home. That was irresponsible, Fran, whatever you say, it was downright irresponsible. He knows better than that. He’s not a fool, just too blessed good-looking for his own good.’

  ‘That’s about the first true word you’ve said. He treated me like an adult—’

  ‘Only because it suited him to,’ Harriet snapped back.

  ‘Mum! If you’re going to speak of him like that I shall not mention him again in your presence. He deserves better than that from you. You’re usually so fair-minded.’

  ‘She isn’t any more,’ said Jimbo. ‘She didn’t want to welcome poor old Merc and Ford back to the village.’

  ‘Why not? They’ve never done you any harm, now have they?’

  ‘No, but he is an ex jail-bird, and there’s no smoke without fire.’

  ‘It was a miscarriage of justice, they said so.’

  ‘“Not enough evidence to convict him” doesn’t mean he was completely innocent. They jailed him when perhaps, give or take a bit, they shouldn’t have, I know. But there are no grey areas within the law. It’s either yes or no.’

  Jimbo declared he’d never known his dear wife to be so dead set with her ideas. ‘It’s not fair to Merc, who is lovely.’

  ‘I don’t like her going along with him being the innocent party. I think she knows more than she lets on.’

  Turning to speak to Fran, Harriet said, ‘However, you’re well shot of Chris, darling. Be brave and don’t let him persuade you otherwise.’

  ‘That’s for me to decide, not you. If he genuinely asks me to go to Rio when he goes back, I very well may go with him. It would be so exciting, so different, especially with him. Now I’m off to bed. Goodnight. Don’t eat all the chocolates.’

  After they had listened for her footsteps crossing the landing and the door to her room being shut, Jimbo said, ‘Well, that was well handled, I must say. Very reassuring.’

  ‘Oh, shut up, Jimbo. Just shut up.’

  Upstairs Fran lay in bed thinking about crossing the world to be with Chris. She imagined herself meeting his mother, his friends, and how envious the old girlfriends would be that a slip of a thing from good old England had won him for herself. She had to admit she loved parties and when he’d talked about life back at home it appeared that the parties were super exciting, far more so than here in England; more daring, more dynamic. All Fran could think about was Chris and how he felt, and what he looked like, and his sense of humour, and his roars of laughter when she said something even only mildly funny. He really was well and truly the man for her. He wouldn’t want babies one after the other like Alice and Johnny; he’d want life to be more fun than that. Alice once told her that Johnny wanted at least four children and wouldn’t be satisfied with less. Wouldn’t be satisfied with less? Huh! Not likely. For one brief second before she fell asleep Fran recollected what a happy childhood she’d had with two brothers and a sister all older than her, lavishing endless time and patience on her. She’d been so lucky. But now she had Chris to look after her.

  But at three o’clock in the morning Fran woke with all her thoughts about Chris in a total jumble. Was he really as wonderful as she always imagined? If there was a major crisis of some sort in her life, would he be the man to stand alongside her, supporting her, caring for her, helping her to sort out her life, like her dad had always been there for her mum? After all, life isn’t actually always full of parties and laughter. Sometimes there are bad times that have to be got through, like when Mum lost that baby when she, Fran, was about three. She was too young to understand about it all, and remembered wondering why they talked about a baby though she hadn’t seen one anywhere; but she was aware of the complete sadness in the house, and how the others were so thoughtful to Mum and Dad, and how Grandmama Charter-Plackett had come to run the house and keep everyone well looked after because Mum was so depressed.

  Fran remembered Dad shouldering the burden of managing everything to relieve Mum of her worries about them all. How he put Fran to bed, when it had always been Mum who did that, and how he had given her the wrong pyjamas to wear and she’d cried. How he even sewed a button on her cardigan because she definitely wanted to wear it to nursery and she wouldn’t go if she couldn’t wear it. How Mum cried and Dad was so patient and loving with her. That was the kind of man you needed when your life had crashed. Fran fell asleep at about half-past five, but the alarm rang at six because she was on early start and she crawled out of bed feeling like death.

  She felt like that for most of the day, like death was just around the corner, and yet she rarely had such morbid grave thoughts. She was one of those people who felt as if she would live for ever; but today an early grave almost felt welcome. Chris had left a note for her. He must have pushed it under the door after closing time so it was there for her to find when she opened up. Love notes at that time in the morning for some strange reason didn’t appeal today, and so she put it in her uniform pocket to deal with when she felt more in the mood.

  The endless day dragged on and finally, about four o’clock, when she was due to finish, she decided that she’d go home, strip off, have a shower and go to bed to catch up on her sleep. Before she put her uniform in the wash as she was expected to do every day she took the note out of the pocket, along with the tissues that had gathered there, and opened it.

  Dear Frances. If you are feeling like it I shall be at the Wise Man at eight tonight and would love to book our favourite table (!!) for the two of us. How about it? Yours, Chris.

  She knew that (!!) really meant he’d book a room for them too. Well, not tonight, Chris. I’m in no fit state to bare my all for anyone, least of all for someone who thinks he can disappear off into the night and not communicate for weeks. So Fran tore the note into little pieces and put it in the waste bin in her bathroom. She showered and went to bed falling asleep almost before she’d pulled the duvet over her and got cosy.

  When she woke about half-past nine she vaguely recollected her mother coming in at some stage to ask if she wanted dinner but she had no recollection of answering her, and at the same moment Fran realised the bed was wet. Horrified to think she could possibly have wet the bed she leapt out and went straight to her bathroom to find she was wrong, she was bleeding. Copiously. Frightened she shouted, ‘Mum! Mum!’ as loudly as she could.

  Harriet didn’t hear her at first, but Jimbo did. ‘Harriet? Fran’s shouting for you. Shall I go?’

  ‘No, I’ll go.’ Harriet raced up the stairs and straight into Fran’s bedroom, knowing in her heart of hearts that something was seriously wrong. ‘It’s me, Fran. Shall I come in?’

  ‘Yes, please. Oh! Mum! This is awful. I can’t move, I’m losing so much blood and stuff as well.’

  ‘Blood?’ Harriet opened the door and rushed to her daughter’s side.

  ‘Yes. Blood. A haemorrhage. You know, really bad. And I’ve got a lot of pain too. What can I do? I can’t sit here on the loo for ever.’

  ‘Oh, darling.’ Harriet knew instantly what it was. It was an early miscarriage. That must be what it was. How to deal with it? She didn’t know. But she’d better tell Fran outright, no messing. ‘Do you think you might be having a miscarriage? I mean, it may not be, but perhaps it is. Have you missed a couple of times?’

  Fran, already pale and delicate looking, went paler still. ‘I’m always so irregular that I never know when. I suppose I might be, you know, like you said. I’m not on the pill. Chris took the precautions.’

  ‘Mmm. Well, there’s no doubt about it – we have to get you medical attention, Fran.’ Harriet stroke her hair to calm her.


  Fran grimaced. ‘I’m not going to hospital, definitely not.’

  ‘You are, because I say so. This isn’t normal at all.’

  ‘I really don’t need to go to hospital. It’ll stop in a bit.’

  ‘Is it stopping?’

  Fran shook her head.

  ‘I’m sorry, darling, but you do, for whatever reason it turns out to be. Now I won’t be long, but I have to talk to your dad about what to do.’

  ‘Does he have to know?’

  Harriet nodded. ‘Absolutely. He does. Stay where you are till I get back.’

  Jimbo, not realising the seriousness of the situation, was in his office working on the computer. When he saw that Harriet was as white as a sheet and trembling, he asked, ‘She isn’t alright, is she?’

  ‘No, she is not. As far as I can tell she’s,’ Harriet took a deep breath, ‘having an early miscarriage.’ She cleared her throat. ‘It’s so bad she can’t get off the loo.’

  Jimbo shot to his feet. ‘Right, let’s go.’

  ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘Hospital, of course. After that I shall be up at the Big House tearing Chris Templeton to pieces. He won’t be called good-looking after I’ve finished with him.’

  ‘Right.’

  They left Fran at the hospital looking more worried than they had ever seen her. Vulnerable and very desperate. Fran whispered to her dad, ‘I’m so sorry. So very sorry. I’d no idea, though I have felt funny today, I thought . . . anyway . . . a miscarriage. Oh, God. Chris will be so upset.’

  Harriet didn’t think that he would be upset; just the opposite, more likely.

  Jimbo answered her. ‘Look here, darling child of mine, what you have to do is get on with being brave. Have this minor op if you need it in the morning to make sure there’s no infection and that everything has come away as it should, and then you come home and you’ll be loved and cherished and cared for, and you’ll be better in no time. You’ll have to get better. After all how will the store manage without you? The takings will plummet without you there. I know I certainly can’t cope without you, and neither can your mum. We’ll all be rooting for you, believe me. Good night, my darling.’ Jimbo pressed a kiss on his daughter’s forehead.

  ‘Mum. I’ve never had an operation before. I don’t want everyone to know. Mum, don’t tell anyone, please. No one must know.’

  ‘They won’t if I’ve anything to do with it. Don’t worry, darling. We’ll be back before you know it. Bye, bye, see you tomorrow. Oh no, it’s today now, so it’s not that far away, is it? Anyway, goodnight, sweetheart. You try to sleep for a while.’

  Jimbo and Harriet left the hospital and arrived home about three in the morning, both of them feeling worried almost beyond endurance. They didn’t sleep at all. Jimbo kept muttering loud oaths concerning Chris Templeton’s integrity and what he would do to him when they met, while Harriet couldn’t stop weeping at the thought of the pain of losing a child, and how distressing it was going to be for Fran. Damn that Chris. Damn him! It didn’t seem to have occurred to Fran at the moment that it was a child she was losing, but it would, Harriet knew.

  Chapter 15

  News travels fast especially when you don’t want it to and it was the same with Fran being in hospital. It couldn’t be expected that a hospital so close to home as Culworth wouldn’t have someone working there who knew someone who lived in one of the three villages, who knew exactly who Fran was and because of being on night duty had spotted her emergency operation on the schedule. So by eleven o’clock that morning a woman who lived in Penny Fawcett burst into the store full of the news.

  ‘My neighbour works there, you see, she told me, I’m so sorry.’ She leaned confidentially towards Bel. ‘Did she take something to get rid of it then?’

  ‘I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about. I only work here.’

  ‘You must know, Bel, of course you must. I mean where’s Jimbo this morning? You must have had an explanation about him not being here. Where’s Fran? Where’s Harriet? Where’s Tom? He’ll know, being manager. Well?’ The woman leaned her elbow on the till counter and waited for an explanation.

  ‘Tom’s making coffee for him and me, and we know nothing about anything. Are you shopping or just here to spread rumours?’

  ‘It’s the truth. Her name was down for whatever it’s called when you’ve had a miscarriage, D and B, or something. No, that’s not it. D and C, I think that’s it. Must be that Chris’s. They’ll have given her something to get rid of it, I bet, them with their money and connections in high places. Is he here at the moment or back where he belongs?’

  Bel pressed the emergency bell under the till and also shouted at the top of her voice. ‘Tom! There’s an emergency. Can you come please. Now!’

  Tom arrived almost before Bel had finished speaking. Due to his years in the police force before he came to live in the village he was secretly held in awe by many of the people who lived in Penny Fawcett because on more than one occasion, as he frequented the pub in Penny Fawcett rather than the Royal Oak, he’d assisted the publican to tackle punters who were requiring instant removal, assistance he gave with steely efficiency.

  He didn’t inquire why, but simply said, ‘I’m afraid I shall have to ask you to leave. Thank you for calling.’ With a dramatic gesture he pulled the outside door wide open. ‘Now, if you please.’

  The woman debated if Tom had any legal right to be evicting her, but the harsh chilling stare he gave her from his usually warm, friendly eyes put an end to her deliberations.

  ‘I shall tell everyone I’ve been turned out for speaking the truth. That’s all I did. Speak the truth. On the list it was. In black and white.’ With an angry flick of her head she stormed out, determined not to darken their door again, until she remembered she couldn’t be going all the way to Culworth for every little thing she needed, not with the cost of petrol nowadays.

  Tom went back into the kitchen to collect their mugs of coffee and he also brought back a biscuit or two each for their mutual comfort.

  ‘We might have known this would happen. Honestly, I’d nothing I could say except we didn’t know anything as we only worked here. It’s going to be like this all morning.’ Bel’s eyes filled with tears. ‘Poor Fran, I love her like a daughter, I really do, and she doesn’t deserve this.’

  ‘On the practical side, losing the baby has done her a good turn. Got rid of an almighty problem, let’s be honest.’

  ‘Yes, I expect you’re right in one way. Is the baby the reason he’s come back here, do you think?’

  Tom pounced on Bel’s explanation immediately. ‘Of course that’ll be it. But now it’s all too late. Intending to make an honest woman of her, that’ll be why.’

  ‘I don’t think that counts for anything now. It doesn’t matter, you know, like it did. Maybe, though, he’s brought the stuff she’s taken to get rid of it.’

  ‘No, no, Bel, that’s not Fran at all, she wouldn’t do a thing like that, now would she?’

  A customer came in needing stamps and so Tom went into the post office cage and served him. The man didn’t ask any questions about Fran at all. After he’d paid for the stamps he then decided to take a Mars Bar to keep him going until his lunch, and then he left without another word. Tom and Bel sighed with relief.

  ‘Look, Tom,’ said Bel, ‘we’d better get our stories straight. What shall we say, do you think?’

  ‘We know nothing. Absolutely blinking nothing. Not a word. It nearly killed Jimbo having to tell us, I felt so sorry for him. The most sorry I’ve ever felt in my life for him. We’re in the front line of defence for them, you know, Bel, so it’s up to us. We need a solid immovable wall around us so it can never be said we let the cat out of the bag.’

  ‘Oh, you’re so right, so right. As for Harriet, she looked terrible. They’d been up for most of the night from what they said. So mum’s the word.’

  The next three customers enjoyed shopping as everyone did who ca
me into the store and they left without any awkward questioning, so Tom and Bel began to relax a little as they realised not everybody knew about Fran.

  Bel was busy shelf-filling and Tom was doing his bookkeeping for the post office when the doorbell rang hysterically, and in walked the man of the moment. Chris appeared to have had a good night’s sleep because he was smiling and apparently very happy indeed with the world.

  ‘Good morning. Isn’t it a wonderful day?’ he said.

  Bel was surprised by his jollity. Did he know? He must, she presumed, but didn’t it matter to him? Wasn’t he concerned? She hoped to avoid any difficult questions by endeavouring to match Chris Templeton’s enthusiastic mood, and so she said with vigour, ‘It most certainly is. Couldn’t be better.’

  ‘I’ve come in for one of my big shopping events for delivery on Friday. Here’s my list. What do you think?’

  Bel checked his shopping list and agreed they’d have everything in by Friday. ‘The caviar might not come in time but we’ll do our very best. How is everyone up at the Big House. Babies doing well?’

  ‘Yes, they are. Ralph appears to be settling down, with not so much wind as he used to have, so that’s a bonus. And Charles is very active and rushing about the house at great speed. Yes, they’re all doing very nicely. Thanks.’ Chris beamed at them both and then asked if Fran was in as he needed a word.

  ‘Sorry, we’re in today, just the two of us. Quiet day, you see.’

  ‘Not like Jimbo, Fran and Harriet to be all off together.’

  ‘They don’t do it often but today they are,’ Bel answered, pretending to be busy clearing an excess of small change from the till. She knew he was watching her and she knew it wouldn’t take her long to sort out the change, so she braced herself.

  ‘Do we have any idea when they’ll be back?’

  ‘No,’ said Tom.

  ‘I might drop back before closing time to see if they’ve got home.’

  Bel shrugged. ‘Just as you like. We close at seven but Tom and I will have gone by five o’clock. It’s the casuals after that. They won’t know anything either.’ She immediately wished she hadn’t said that. The solid wall Tom had spoken of had suddenly felt to be crumbling and she knew Chris was astute enough to have picked up on that. Blast, thought Bel.