The Village Green Affair Read online

Page 22

Hugh and Guy jumped at the chance to avoid cooking in the flat, so Neville found a jacket and the four of them went out to eat. Neville took them to the smart restaurant he’d found objectionable that night Liz had prised him so unwillingly out of the office. Liz didn’t comment on the fact but felt amazed at the change in him.

  No one watching the four of them would have imagined for one moment that Neville and Liz were divorcing. They appeared to be having a pleasant family meal together, but beneath all the jollity they were all putting on a front to keep the atmosphere pleasant for the sake of the others. The boys were very aware that their father had changed and their mother was on a knife-edge.

  When Neville decided to talk to the boys about the divorce, Liz almost shrivelled into a pathetic blob at the thought of him speaking out on such an intimate matter.

  ‘Your mother and I are very sorry that matters have reached the stage when we both want a divorce. What I don’t want is to have the two of you feeling distressed about it. We both want an amicable settling of our affairs and don’t want either of you to be harmed in any way. We’re selling Glebe House, but that doesn’t leave the two of you homeless, obviously, as you own the flat. I might ask for a few more weeks’ accommodation while I find a property, and then I shall set about making our business into the kind of company you are both willing to work in.’ Neville lowered his voice. ‘My mole will be getting the elbow, and I shall cut down on my property investments, so there will be no need to come into contact with him at all.’

  Guy leaned closer to Neville and said quietly, ‘Kevin’s known to be vengeful, Dad, he’s very capable of a hatchet job.’ He sliced the air with the edge of his hand to emphasize his point. ‘He’s earned a lot out of you in the past, and he won’t take kindly to being elbowed out of the cut and thrust.’

  ‘Guy, Kevin may think he’s the sharpest knife in the box, but he’ll never get the better of me, I can assure you. He’s a very small pawn in the game.’

  Liz recollected Kevin’s foxy slyness and, to her surprise, found herself worrying about Neville. But what was she doing here? Divorcing him? Or getting back together with him? ‘I’ve got to go,’ she said abruptly.

  She pushed her chair away from the table with such decisiveness that it tipped over, making a terrible clatter on the tiled floor. With a flushed face she apologized, just as Neville got up and stood her chair back on its four legs. ‘Liz! Are you all right?’ The change in him was unnerving. She’d expected him to snarl because she’d drawn attention to them, but not tonight. She simply did not know this new Neville. Could he have changed so much in such a very short space of time? When he asked if she was well enough to drive home, Liz snapped, ‘Of course I am.’

  ‘Well, then, at least let me escort you to your car. This time of night, you know.’

  ‘There’s no need. Thank you for the nice meal, Neville. Bye, boys, I’ll be in touch.’

  But he did go with her, taking her elbow as they walked through the almost deserted multi-storey levels of the car park. Liz had difficulty preventing herself from shuddering at his touch.

  Neville muttered, ‘Never noticed what a grim place this is. It’s almost asking for a vicious gangland film to be made here, isn’t it?’ He turned to see her reaction to his flight of fancy, with a smile that almost reached his eyes.

  ‘You’re right there.’ Liz took in a deep breath and muttered, ‘It’s no good, you know, you’re not getting me back. Under no circumstances. You shot your bolt that night when . . . you . . . did what you did. There is actually a word for it but I can’t bear to use it. You were brutal, and you don’t know what an effort it was for me to have a meal with you, or even to have you holding my elbow as you are now.’

  He let go of her immediately and his step faltered. When eventually he spoke his voice was barely audible above the sound of their footsteps on the concrete. ‘I didn’t imagine I would, no matter how hard I tried. I’ve done too much damage ... that night ... I can never apologize enough for my behaviour. But I’m trying harder to be a better person than I was. And I mean what I say about Kevin Smickersgill. I shall finish with him. I can’t ruin him, because after all, I’ve played a part in his crime so to speak, encouraged him in fact, so that wouldn’t do. Goodnight, Liz. Thanks for coming with us tonight. Guy and Hugh will have reason to be proud of me ... and you will be proud, too. It matters, you know. Goodnight Liz.’ She felt his lips tremble as he landed a brief kiss on her cheek. Then she opened her car door, got in and drove away.

  When she arrived back at her flat, Titus had left a message on her answerphone which she knew would restore calm to her swirling thoughts.

  Of course she wasn’t going back to Neville. The very idea made goosebumps come out all over. She checked her e-mails and found just one. It was from Titus.

  Chapter 16

  Darling Liz,

  You’re out. I wonder where? Bad news, I’m afraid. My friend who is loaning you his flat is coming home to England. He has had an emergency operation in Uganda after a serious car accident and is returning by air for further intricate surgery in England. His mother is intending to live with him in his flat to help him. He will require it on Friday. So sorry, darling. I had hoped you were safe for a good while yet. Of course you know there will always be a home for you Chez Titus if that is what you wish. Ring me when you get this message and we’ll see what is the best for you to do.

  Your Titus.

  Liz sat staring at the e-mail for a good five minutes before she rang Titus. Somehow everyone she used to rely on had gone out of kilter. Neville at his worst she knew how to deal with; the new Neville she didn’t. Now she was becoming suspicious of Titus. Was this just a ruse to get her to live with him? No, that wasn’t like Titus at all. Of course not.

  She dialled his number.

  His first words reassured her. ‘Firstly, Liz, you must understand I am not expecting nor am I asking you to come to live with me. I know you’re not ready for that . . . unless it is your dearest wish, that is.’

  ‘Thank you. You see, I need to rid myself of one life before I take up with another. Can you appreciate that?’

  ‘Of course I can.’

  ‘When you called I was having a meal in a restaurant with Hugh and Guy and . . . Neville. I went to the boys’ flat to see Neville and challenge him.’ She heard Titus gasp. ‘I know you think I was stupid, but I was so wild I had to confront him. I asked him straight out and he said it wasn’t him that took the jewellery. I believe him. Titus, where shall I go? I feel abandoned.’

  ‘Liz, Liz, you’re not abandoned, I’m here for you.’

  ‘Thank you. Yes, I know you are. I won’t make a decision right this minute. I shall be strong and brave in the morning, which I’m not now, as I’ve been through too much tonight. Just too much. Goodnight, Titus.’

  But Liz slept in the next morning, and only arrived in Turnham Malpas for the nursery in the nick of time. She hated starting the day on the wrong foot. She felt that it put her out all the rest of the day and now, because of her bad start, she still hadn’t decided what to do.

  She needed some groceries so she called in at the Village Store after nursery. Only Tom and Bel were working, but she had a chat with them both and then selected her shopping.

  She carried her purchases to her car and found Neville standing beside it waiting. The sight of him jolted her and she wished she could run away, but she marched on regardless. ‘Are you stalking me?’

  ‘No. How are you, Liz? Thank you for eating with us last night. It was a pleasure.’

  ‘What is it now, Neville?’

  Liz looked more closely at him. How casually he was dressed: no tie, a short-sleeved shirt, shorts. Shorts? Heavens above. He was almost unrecognizable.

  ‘I’ve come to find you to say that if you need somewhere to live, then I would be pleased if you would live in Glebe House, temporarily, until we find a buyer. Just a thought, you know.’

  His idea exploded in her head. ‘Oh, no! You’d be
there like a shot and I’m not having it. No, definitely not. You’ve no rights to me at all, not after what you did.’

  ‘I wouldn’t. Believe me. It works two ways, you see. It would mean there’d be someone living there when we were trying to sell it - which we shall, of course, it’s very desirable - and you would have a nice home in the meanwhile. I’d pay all the expenses - cleaner, gardener, utilities. You can move in tomorrow.’

  It was extremely tempting. Her own surroundings, not another session of adapting to an unfamiliar place, near the nursery, near her friends. ‘Yes, but . . .’

  ‘Well, yes, there is a but . . . I will not tolerate Titus Bellamy living there. In fact, it’s on condition that he doesn’t set foot in the place.’

  ‘And neither will you?’

  Neville nodded. ‘Neither will I.’

  ‘I’ll let you know tonight. I still have the new key so that’s no problem. On your honour you won’t harass me? I mean it, Neville, you’re not to come anywhere near me.’

  ‘I won’t. But it has its advantages you living there, hasn’t it?’

  ‘Just go, otherwise people will begin to think we’re getting together again, and nothing could be further from the truth.’ Having stored her shopping in the boot, Liz opened the driver’s door. Then the thought hit her like a missile. ‘How the blazes do you know I need somewhere to live?’ She turned round to see his reaction and found him so close their bodies were almost touching. Liz leaped back. ‘Well?’

  Neville spread his hands to indicate his innocence. ‘I just thought there was no need for you to be paying rent for that flat, when you can live rent-free in your own home.’

  ‘It doesn’t feel like my home. It’s always been yours. You might say you built it and furnished it as a tribute to me, but it was actually a tribute to you, and don’t deny it. I was daft enough to fall for it.’

  Neville did have the grace to look suitably humbled, although the unaccustomed look didn’t improve him in her eyes.

  ‘However, I’ll move in if I decide to without reference to you. After all, as you say, it is my house, too.’ Liz got in the car, remembered something else she needed to say so wound down the window. ‘I wouldn’t sleep in our bed. Too many . . . ghosts. Too much . . . horror.’

  As she drove back into Culworth Liz was overcome by a terrible feeling of being strangled, or smothered or some such. She became short of breath, and it seemed as though there was a heavy weight pressing down on her head. She pulled in to give herself time to recover but it didn’t work, so she drove the rest of the way concentrating 150 per cent on her driving, because she was terrified she might have an accident through lack of concentration.

  Once inside the flat she poured herself a glass of brandy for medicinal purposes and lay down on the bed afterwards trying desperately to relax. After about half an hour she fell fast asleep and didn’t wake for four hours.

  When she got up she felt much improved, hungry and clear-headed. Of course she wasn’t going to move into Glebe House. Not likely. She’d been stupid even to give it a moment’s thought. She’d move into a little guest house she knew in Culworth for a few days until she’d found a holiday flat on the outskirts of Culworth to rent for a few weeks, and not let Neville know. Fact was, how the devil had he found out she would be in need of accommodation when she herself had only just found out? Was it coincidence? Could it have been? It was almost as if her phone was being tapped. Liz shuddered. She’d watched too many spy thrillers on TV, that was her trouble. Of course it wasn’t tapped. Was she going mad?

  However, after that Liz decided not to use the flat land-line but always her mobile - she’d just bought a new one - and rang Titus to tell him.

  ‘I’m sure you’re wrong,’ Titus said. ‘I mean, how could he have the phone tapped? It does sound odd, though.’

  Liz told him her new mobile number and then said, ‘For a while there I was thinking of moving back into Glebe House, but I’ve come to my senses. At least here or in a guest house he hasn’t got a key. At home I would be conscious that he might walk in at any time. But he’s changed. When I saw him this morning he was wearing shorts and no tie. He was almost unrecognizable. Do you think he’s really changed, inside?’

  Titus heard alarm bells ringing and didn’t like it at all. He changed the subject. ‘It’s the market tomorrow. We’ll go for a picnic. I’ll get the food and things from the stalls, and we’ll treat ourselves to a happy hour. If you want to stay in a guest house, by all means do so. If you like, I can store your excess belongings for a while. That’s not me moving you in. Just a kind gesture. OK?’

  ‘Right. I’ll move tomorrow afternoon, after the picnic. Lovely idea. I’m looking forward to it. See you after I’ve cleared up from nursery, my darling.’

  There was no demonstration that market morning. The protesters had lost heart, Willie in particular, so there had been no more rousing speeches, just a quiet acceptance that the market was there to stay. It was another brilliantly bright morning, with an azure blue sky and just the occasional bird swirling around, catching the thermals. Fran’s cats lingered by the meat van in the vain hope that a tender lamb chop might mistakenly leap off the display, and a busy crowd of punters charged about looking for bargains.

  Instead of using their bikes, Eddie and Tone had come in on the morning bus. It was packed with market-goers and they were scarcely noticed, dressed as they were in summer gear - shorts, T-shirts and open-toed sandals - and carrying shopping bags, not backpacks. They looked quite different from the last time they’d visited Turnham Malpas on market day. Their last ‘shopping trip’ had been highly successful because not a word had they heard from the police or anyone else about it. Apart from the diamond necklace, which they were still having difficulty selling on, everything else had brought good prices and they were hoping for a repeat of their last visit.

  They drifted around the stalls, picking up trifles here and there but never actually purchasing anything, just looking as though they would buy something any minute now, and, at the same time, keeping an eye on the houses around the green. By mutual consent they wandered down the path to the church hall, slipped over Willie and Sylvia’s fence, then over the fence of the newly occupied house that had been Andy and Jenny’s - which, by a quick look through the back windows, appeared to have nothing in it but a few sticks of dirt-cheap furniture - and into the back garden of Sir Ralph and Lady Templeton. The back door was locked but Eddie, an experienced locksmith, had it open in a trice. Imagining that the cottage was empty, they began walking cautiously through the immaculate kitchen, without even a bill laid on the worktop waiting to be paid, and to the door of the sitting room. They stood very quietly in the hall for a moment listening for sounds of occupation, not knowing that Sir Ralph was in his study and Muriel fast asleep in bed upstairs, as she had spent most of the night walking about the house unable to sleep.

  They were dazzled by the number of treasures on display. They collected one here, one there, again making sure they didn’t leave gaps which would draw the owners’ attention to their losses.

  The furniture! Well, they’d have been delighted to pop that into their shopping bags too, but regretfully . . . Tone set off up the stairs and went straight into the main bedroom. He got the shock of his life when he saw Muriel asleep in bed, and froze when she turned over in her sleep. Her left hand was resting on the top of the sheet and he saw her magnificent engagement ring. Could he possibly slip it off her finger without disturbing her? Her hand was very bony. Perhaps the ring was more loose than it used to be. He tiptoed across the carpet, onto the sheepskin rug on her side of the bed, listened to her slow, deep breathing and, reaching out, took hold of the ring. He wriggled it very slightly to see just how loose it was. It was, and she hadn’t moved a muscle. Poor old girl, poor old thing, like a bag of bones laid there. Despite his sympathy for her he slid the ring carefully over her arthritic, swollen knuckle, passed just below her fingernail, then it was off and in his shopping bag, a
nd Tone was down the stairs tugging at Eddie’s sleeve and pointing to the back door. The two of them got out just as they heard someone knocking on the front door.

  It was Grandmama with a message for Muriel. Well, Ralph would deal with it, but they were all polite and pretended that Muriel still had all her faculties, which patently she hadn’t. Apparently Ralph’s bell was not working and he hadn’t heard her tapping on the door, so Grandmama set off to go round to the back door and there, in full view, were Tone and Eddie making their escape across the garden and into Pipe and Nook Lane.

  Mobile phone at hand, Grandmama dialled Mac. Within moments he was at her side still clutching two lamb chops he was buying from the meat van.

  Grandmama was handed the chops, and Mac set off after Tone and Eddie. They’d headed the wrong way down Pipe and Nook, turning up past the Rectory instead of the other way into the Culworth Road, which would mean them having to escape into Rector’s Meadow, now filled with parked cars. Granddad Stubbs, perched comfortably on the chair Barry Jones had made specially for the job, sized up the situation as he saw Tone and Eddie racing up followed by Mac, and, as they rushed through the gateway, he stuck out a foot. Tone tripped and then Eddie, very close behind, tripped over Tone. Mac, who kept very fit, had them both by the scruff before they could get to their feet.