A Village Deception (Turnham Malpas 15) Page 2

  ‘Had other things to do.’

  ‘Oh! Right.’

  When they got back to Laburnum Cottage, Marie suggested Harry might like a hot drink with them before he went to bed. ‘I’ll gladly make you one. I can offer you tea, coffee, Ovaltine or Horlicks. I think we’ve got some …’

  ‘That would be lovely. Add it to my bill, I insist.’

  ‘Oh for goodness sake! One cup of whatever isn’t going to break the bank.’

  ‘Please, I insist.’

  ‘Very well then. What shall it be?’

  ‘I fancy a Horlicks. Please.’

  ‘Come in the kitchen then, while I make it. Zack, what about you?’

  ‘No, thanks. I’m off to bed. Goodnight, Harry.’

  While Marie was making Harry’s Horlicks, they heard the couple in the front bedroom come in. Marie listened for them going up the stairs and she was glad they did so without calling in the kitchen like they normally did with some complaint about the weather or some outlandish request for their breakfast that she wouldn’t be able to cater for.

  ‘Here we are. Horlicks, as requested.’

  She sat down with her cup of tea and dared to ask him, ‘You seemed sad in the pub. I hope it wasn’t anything me or Zack said.’

  Harry’s dark-brown eyes focused on her. ‘This Horlicks tastes just like my granny used to make.’

  ‘She was a good granny then?’

  Harry nodded. ‘Drink ruined our family, you see. That’s why I’m careful in the pub.’

  ‘Ah! Right. Alcohol has a lot to answer for.’

  ‘Exactly. Both my mum and my dad drank to excess and it made for a rotten childhood.’

  Marie felt so sorry for him. She’d had a brilliant childhood, loved and cared for, even though there wasn’t that much money about when she was growing up. ‘That’s hard.’

  Harry nodded again. ‘They used all the money for drink and then had nothing left to provide food for us all. It was hard.’

  ‘It certainly is.’

  ‘I guess, from the kind of person you are, your childhood was as every child has a right to?’

  ‘Well, we hadn’t much money, but we were loved and cared for.’

  ‘That makes such a difference. It spoils your life otherwise, the whole of your life. I joined the army to get away from it all. It’s so lovely here, being looked after by you.’

  ‘Pleasure. I suppose at least you got fed well.’

  ‘Yes, but the Falklands and then every unmentionable place you could think of after that, didn’t exactly help.’

  ‘You’re a Falklands veteran?’ Marie reached across and patted Harry’s hand. ‘Then you’re a hero in my eyes. And Zack’s.’

  He gave her half a smile, then a shadow crossed his face and the sadness was back. ‘I was just eighteen. I think I’ll drink the rest of this in bed. Do you mind?’

  ‘Of course not, Harry. Feel free. Goodnight.’

  As Marie listened to him climbing the stairs, all her mothering instincts sprang to the fore. The poor, dear chap. The Falklands at eighteen! Just eighteen. Far, far too young for such an experience, and such a sensitive man would find it very hard. If he was eighteen in 1982, what did that make him now? Forty … Forty-seven, if her maths was right. He hadn’t mentioned a wife, though. Come to think of it, he hadn’t really mentioned anything at all in detail. Perhaps that was part of being a soldier, you learned to shut out the things that you hated. Poor Harry. When he paid her tomorrow she’d find out if he wanted to stay a while longer, except not much longer, because she was already fully booked for some weeks in the summer. Anyway, his money was as good as the next one’s, so perhaps she could squeeze him in somehow.

  But the day for Harry to pay his bill arrived and he made no offer to pay at breakfast. She’d mention it when she met up with him during the day, Marie decided. Perhaps he was planning to go to the bank today anyway, or pay by credit card. That would be the easiest for her, by credit card.

  When she casually reminded him that same evening, on his return at about eight o’clock, he was genuinely sorry. ‘My God! What am I thinking about? I’ve so enjoyed myself here I didn’t realise I’d been here a whole week. Tomorrow, first thing, I shall go straight to the bank. I shall draw it out as the clock strikes nine-thirty. In fact, I could go now, couldn’t I, and get it from the cash machine instead? I will. I’ll go right now. Right away. Please, Marie, please forgive me. It’s so careless of me and I wouldn’t want to cause offence, not for anything. I’ll be back in about an hour.’

  He struggled to put his jacket on, but one sleeve somehow managed to be inside out and his hand caught in it and …

  ‘Look, Harry, please don’t rush out now. It’ll do in the morning. Honestly.’

  He stopped struggling with his jacket and looked Marie full in the face. Honesty was in every millimetre of his smile as he said, ‘Are you sure, because …’ and continued the battle with his jacket sleeve.

  ‘Just do as I say, pay me in the morning.’

  ‘Well, I have had a busy day …’

  ‘There you are then. Tomorrow will do. I get the days mixed up sometimes too, it’s easy done when you’re busy.’

  Harry left the moment he finished his breakfast without even cleaning his teeth, which she knew he always did before he went anywhere at all, and was back with the cash by ten-thirty. He insisted on paying her for seven nights seeing as he was paying late. She didn’t want him to, but he persuaded her to accept it in the end so his conscience would be clear.

  Chapter 2

  Despite the downturn in the economy, Jimbo’s Turnham Malpas village store was thriving. He’d carefully taken on board a few basic lines that customers could buy more cheaply and yet feel they were buying good food and getting real value for money. Also, and he never let on to Harriet, nor anyone else for that matter, sometimes when his customer was elderly, he added up wrongly on purpose and very few people noticed he was quietly cutting their costs.

  The day after Marie had been paid for his week’s stay, Harry walked into the store and Jimbo met him for the first time.

  ‘Good morning!’

  Jimbo looked up to see who was speaking. ‘Good morning. You must be new round here?’

  ‘Well, I’m staying at Laburnum Cottage with Marie and Zack—’

  ‘I’ve heard about you. Falklands War veteran?’

  Harry nodded. ‘Name’s Harry Dickinson.’

  ‘Yes, that’s right. I’m Jimbo, the owner of this establishment.’

  ‘Ah! Right. Nice to meet you. I have been in before, but not when you’ve been around.’ Harry reached out to shake hands.

  Like Zack, Jimbo found Harry’s handshake very agreeable. ‘What can I do for you this bright morning?’

  ‘Because Marie has been so welcoming to me, I’d like to make a meal for them this evening. Just a gesture, you know … of gratitude.’

  ‘They are very genuine people and I’m sure they’ll appreciate that.’

  ‘I wondered if you knew something that they would enjoy? I assume they shop here?’

  ‘They do indeed. Something easy?’

  ‘Well, yes. I’m not really very accustomed to cooking. I’d rather pay someone else to do it.’ He grinned at Jimbo, who had to grin back. He was that sort of man was this Harry. Very relaxed and friendly, a really nice man.

  ‘They both like fish and, this week, I have a new line in salmon. It comes already cooked, in herbs and wine, so it’s just a question of tipping it out onto the plates. I’d also suggest a very nice French mayonnaise to go with it and a pack of new potatoes, scraped and cleaned, all ready for the pan. And perhaps some fresh artichokes? No, maybe not, artichokes could cause you problems if you’re not good at cooking. How about frozen broccoli? The cooking instructions are on the packet.’

  ‘Sounds just what the doctor ordered, I’ll take your advice.’

  In less time than it takes to tell, Jimbo had all the items in one of his smart carrier bags and registere
d on the cash till but, just before he touched the button for the total, he paused. ‘How about wine? Thought about that?’

  ‘Ah! Right! Yes. Wine.’

  From the fleeting look of hesitation on his face, Jimbo did wonder if he’d embarrassed the chap moneywise by suggesting wine. ‘You don’t have to …’

  ‘Yes, of course. Why not?’

  A choice was made after an informative discussion about wine.

  ‘You take credit cards?’

  ‘Wouldn’t still be in business if I didn’t.’

  ‘How right you are. They are so useful, aren’t they?’ Harry did the chip and pin and then made to leave, but not before another customer spoke to him.

  ‘Couldn’t let you go without saying, “Hello”. I’m Venetia Mayer from the big house. I’m in charge of leisure activities for Mr Fitch’s staff. You must be the new man staying with Marie Hooper? Nice to meet you. Your reputation goes before you.’

  Harry looked at the vivid creature holding out her hand to him. She was dressed, from head to toe, in a pink sports outfit, including trainers, and a mass of sizzlingly curly black hair fluffed out around her face. She was giving out all kinds of messages. Not village material at all, Harry thought. ‘How do you do? I’m not sure I like the idea of my reputation going before me!’ he laughed and shook her hand.

  ‘Don’t worry, it’s only good things about what a nice man you are. You should be flattered, they don’t take to strangers quickly round here!’ Venetia laughed, showing her startlingly white, perfect teeth which Harry guessed had had hours of work devoted to them by some dentist specialising in cosmetic work.

  ‘That’s all right then. I wouldn’t want the story of my misspent youth to be broadcast all round here!’ He flirted with her with his eyes, just enough to excite her. After all, you had to spread a little sunshine on your way through life.

  She confidentially tapped his forearm saying, ‘What nonsense! I’m quite sure you had an unblemished youth!’

  ‘Well, we won’t enquire too closely into that.’ He grinned at her and made to leave, but she stopped him by softly suggesting, ‘If you have time to spare, you could come during the day and swim in the pool at Turnham House. You could have it to yourself, the students attend lectures most of the day.’

  ‘I might just do that.’

  ‘Are you here for the summer?’

  So she was fishing for more information about him, was she? Well, he’d keep her guessing. ‘Haven’t made up my mind yet, though I must say I’m very comfortable at Laburnum Cottage.’

  ‘Well, any time during the day in the week, except lunchtime. Any time weekends, too, the students have all left then, you see. Ask for me when you come. OK?’ She twinkled her fingers at him and he noted the long, well-shaped nails with their matching pink lacquer. She took good care of her body too, he guessed. ‘Bye, be seeing you.’

  ‘Thanks. Good morning, Jimbo. I’ll let you know how my cooking goes!’

  Venetia watched him leave. Jimbo had noted her reaction to Harry and smiled to himself. Well, he thought. She has behaved herself for years, ever since her husband Jeremy had his heart attack. Maybe she thinks it’s time to go off the rails a little.

  ‘What a nice man. So pleasant.’

  ‘Yes, he is. What can I get you, Venetia?’

  ‘A bottle of vodka please. Craddock is on an economy drive and our free drinks have been banned. He can be so domineering, can Craddock. I like powerful men but … Now, take you for instance, Jimbo. You have authority, without being a pig. How do you do it?’

  ‘Just my charm. Always got charm, I have. I find it works. Vodka then.’

  He slid back the heavy glass door that fronted the drinks shelves and took out a bottle of vodka. ‘Anything else?’

  ‘No thanks.’ She handed over her credit card.

  ‘I notice I don’t get an invite to swim in your pool.’

  Venetia looked very seriously at him before she replied, ‘I … Well … You’re a happily married man, and very moral to boot. I’d be wasting my time with you. In any case, I don’t want your Harriet after my blood, she’s a very formidable woman.’ She grinned very sweetly at him and Jimbo was forced to acknowledge the truth in what she said. She did the chip and pin and then left. Jimbo watched the swing of her hips as she went out of the door and sensed trouble in the air.

  As he stood staring into space, thinking about the trouble Venetia Mayer had caused in the past, Harriet appeared. ‘Got nothing to do? Come and give me a hand up at the Old Barn for an hour.’

  ‘Can’t, it’s Tom’s day off.’

  ‘Oh! Of course. What’s troubling you?’

  ‘Nothing. Nothing at all.’

  ‘Do I smell Venetia’s perfume?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘She been flirting again?’

  ‘Not with me.’

  ‘Who then?’

  ‘Harry Dickinson, the man staying at Marie Hooper’s.’

  ‘I haven’t met him yet. Is he worth her flirting with him?’

  ‘Very well could be. Time on his hands and I suspect there’s more to Mr Dickinson than meets the eye.’

  ‘Such as?’

  ‘On the surface he’s a very pleasant man; friendly, well spoken and good-looking but … I don’t know, there’s a kind of depth to him …’

  ‘If he’s ex-army, perhaps there is. You know, terrible things he doesn’t want to remember.’

  Jimbo shrugged. ‘You’re probably right. Will this formidable woman give her old man a kiss before she goes?’ He pursed his lips, ready.

  ‘Me? Formidable? Was that Venetia saying that?’ Jimbo nodded, lips still pursed.

  So she kissed him. ‘Less of the old man! If you’re old, then so am I, and I’m not. Bye bye!’

  ‘Bye!’ Jimbo thought he was right about Harry. He probably wasn’t hiding unpleasant thoughts, it was more likely that he was simply a very private person. That could very well be it. A very private person.

  All morning, business had been slow and then suddenly, the doorbell, the love of his heart, didn’t stop ringing and he was too busy on the till to be thinking about Harry and about him going to be ensnared by Venetia, if he let her.

  At Laburnum Cottage, Harry was carefully explaining to Marie that he was cooking supper that night. ‘I don’t wish to cause offence, but I thought I should like to do it. So, please, do you mind?’ He smiled the gentle smile of a very genuine man, and Marie was won over.

  ‘Of course I don’t expect it of my guests but, yes, that’s fine. Zack and I will be delighted to have supper with you. The kitchen is yours.’

  Harry hoisted the carrier bag onto the hall table. ‘To be frank, Jimbo has recommended some very simple things for me to prepare. A couple of things will need to go in the fridge until tonight. Is there room?’ ‘Of course there is.’

  ‘It’s just occurred to me, I’ve completely forgotten about a dessert! I’ll go back and …’

  ‘You’ll do no such thing. I’ve a box of Cadbury’s roulade in the freezer, that can be our contribution.’

  Harry thanked her profusely. ‘I didn’t intend …’ ‘Think no more about it. Give me what needs to go in the fridge and I’ll put it away. Right?’ Marie’s lovely country face was lit with a beaming smile and Harry couldn’t stop himself from responding to it. He quickly kissed each of her rosy cheeks saying, ‘You’re too kind.’ Marie blushed bright red.

  ‘Sorry, shouldn’t have done that, but you are so very kind to me.’

  He handed her the carrier bag and when she noticed there was a bottle of wine in there she said, ‘You naughty boy, wine too! Zack will be set up.’

  ‘Jimbo advised me which one to buy. I’m not very well informed about wine, you see.’

  ‘I’m certain it will be lovely then, he’s very knowledgeable.’ Harry stood watching her as she disappeared into the kitchen, thinking how lucky he was to have found such a nice place to stay. He almost wished he could stay for ever, but staying in one p
lace for a long time wasn’t his scene. He preferred to move on, it was much easier that way. He wandered into the sitting room and sat down to read Zack’s morning paper.

  He heard Zack shouting to Marie that he was going to do the mowing at the church and that he’d be a couple of hours. Harry, already bored with the day, jumped to his feet. ‘Zack! Zack! I’m at a loose end this morning, the friend I was going to meet can’t make it. Could I come and give you a hand?’

  Glad of the company, to say nothing of the help, Zack welcomed his offer. ‘You can use the small cutter and do the awkward bits, if you like. But those shoes of yours will get spoiled.’

  ‘I’ve got some old trainers.’

  Zack nodded his approval and within minutes they were striding up Shepherd’s Hill together like old friends.

  It took a while for Zack to get the big mower out of the shed and set it up, then he got the small, old-fashioned mower out for Harry to use. ‘You don’t need me to tell you which bits this little one is for. At one time old Willie Biggs used this for everywhere, but a kind benefactor bought me this big one and it’s made all the difference.’

  ‘Not much technical expertise needed with this little one then, just elbow grease!’

  ‘Exactly. When you’re fed up, just stop and I’ll finish it off.’

  ‘Absolutely not, it will do me good to get my teeth into something and see it through to the end.’ Harry switched on the old mower and set off between the graves. Zack studied his purposefulness and thought he really was a grand chap. Such determination and such vigour. He could do with him every week right through the summer.

  The two of them worked for the next hour and a half without exchanging a word until Zack felt in need of his morning tea. He switched off the big mower and shouted, ‘Just going to put the kettle on.’

  Harry acknowledged what he said, then went to the end of the narrow path he was mowing and switched off.

  Zack had quite a comfortable set-up in the shed. There was an old kitchen cupboard that provided him with a workspace for his kettle, bottle of milk, mugs and spoons and a trio of old kitchen canisters held the coffee, tea bags and sugar. There was an electric socket just above the worktop. ‘Sit yourself down. It won’t take long with this kettle, it used to be Marie’s but when she decided to do B&B, she bought a new one and I got this.’