Intrigue in the Village (Turnham Malpas 10) Read online

  And they did, to Muriel’s surprise. When they’d finished reading the prayer and had returned to their places, Muriel thought the dear boy must feel terribly excluded. So thin and badly dressed. Really! Why couldn’t parents blessed with children take better care of them? It was so unkind. His mother needed taking in hand. And by the looks of it, those two little girls near the front were his sisters. A tear came into her eye at the thought of the humiliation they must feel with everyone else in school uniform and their clothes not even remotely decent. How unfair!

  Kate’s voice cut across her indignation. ‘Robert, will you come to my office at breaktime? I need a word. Lady Templeton has kindly come to play the piano for us for our Maypole practice. Isn’t that a lovely surprise? Shall we give Lady Templeton a clap for being so kind?’ Much to Muriel’s embarrassment, they clapped her and made her blush. Kate held up her hand. ‘Thank you, that was lovely. So the first class to begin is Miss Booth’s. Then Mrs Hardaker’s and after break my class. We shall all have to put our backs into it and if you’re not chosen to do the actual dancing, then you will be in the choir to do the singing before and afterwards. We need everyone to help. So each one of you will be either a singer or a dancer. To your classes, children, except for Miss Booth’s.’

  Kate gave Muriel an encouraging wave and before she knew it, Muriel was playing for the babies. Well, at least that was how she thought of them. The newest little girl, whom she later found was called Una, looked too frail to dance a single step, but there was something magical about her; she was light-footed, kept good time, and held her head high and with such grace, Muriel was convinced that if she’d begun playing Swan Lake, the child would have been the best and most elegant swan. Quite amazing, thought Muriel, for such a little girl.

  She commented on it to Kate when they were having coffee at breaktime in Kate’s office. ‘You should see her! She’s quite spectacular. A delight to watch. Such a pity her mother doesn’t take better care of her.’

  ‘I’m taking that in hand, Muriel. She takes the best care of her that she can, that’s all I can say for the moment. They’ve big financial problems, I’m afraid.’

  ‘There must have been a father at some time.’

  ‘There must, but . . .’

  There was a knock at the door. It was Robert Nightingale.

  ‘You wanted to see me, Mrs Fitch?’

  ‘Thank you, Robert.’

  Muriel decided to leave. If he was going to get a telling-off, she didn’t want to witness it, although he had been naughty. ‘If you’ll excuse me.’ She slipped out of the door and left the two of them alone.

  ‘Now, Robert, I saw what happened.’

  ‘Their clothes stink.’

  ‘That does not give you licence to be unkind. You have a mum and a dad at home, and your mother doesn’t have to work. Mind you, with seven children I doubt she could find the time. By comparison you are very lucky indeed. I’d like you to make an effort to be friendly with both Paul and Phil. They need someone popular on their side, and you are that very person. Are you not?’

  Robert shuffled his feet and blushed, not liking to agree with her that he was one of the most popular boys in the school. ‘But why should I?’

  ‘Three reasons. Because you’re a kind person really, because there is someone in need of your help and because I asked you to. How about it? Their problems are going to get resolved, believe me, in time, but they need help.’

  ‘All right, but only because you told me to.’

  ‘Robert Nightingale, you are a star. Thank you.’

  ‘May I go?’

  ‘Of course.’

  Robert turned back from the door to say, ‘They steal. Did you know?’

  Kate looked up, her face expressionless. ‘They do?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Such as?’

  ‘People’s sweets, money. That was why Karen hadn’t any dinner money yesterday, they’d stolen it.’

  ‘Why haven’t you told me before?’

  ‘Because they haven’t got much, and I’m not a snitch.’

  ‘You’re not, but sometimes the truth has to be told for everyone’s good. Thank you for telling me, Robert. I suppose they spend it in the Store?’

  ‘Yes. Before the bus goes. But sometimes they steal from him, in the shop, I mean. Mr Charter-Plackett knows, I think.’

  Kate nodded. ‘I’ll have a word. Don’t tell anyone else.’

  ‘We all know.’

  ‘I see. Leave me to deal with it. Thank you. Remember what I said.’

  But the stealing problem worsened. By half past three, ten pounds had been stolen from Margaret Booth’s handbag.

  ‘I know it was there, Kate. I remember thinking I’d have to get money for the weekend at the supermarket when I paid for my groceries tonight. It was definitely there. I could stand up in court and testify.’

  ‘Not spent it in the Store at lunchtime?’

  ‘Never left the school premises all day.’

  ‘I hate it when we have stealing. Really hate it, and now the minibuses have gone and whoever’s taken it has got away with it. Where has your bag been all day?’

  ‘In your office to begin with, then after lunch I had it with me in the classroom. They must be very quick, whoever it is. Fast as the speed of light for me not to notice. I’m really fed up about it. I hate the feeling of distrust in the air.’

  Kate said she was going to the Store to ask if any of the children had been in before the buses left.

  Tom Nicholls was behind the cash till.

  ‘Yes, several of them.’

  ‘Remember who they were and what they spent?’

  Linda called out from the Post Office, her face pressed to the grille, squashing her nose in a distinctly unflattering manner. ‘The Bliss children came in and that big Karen, young Holly Whatsists and a girl called Marie or Maria or something, but she only wanted a birthday card for her mum and I helped her choose it.’

  ‘What did the others buy, Tom?’

  ‘I know Karen bought an ice cream because I remember Holly telling her they wouldn’t let her on the bus if she hadn’t eaten it before it left. The Bliss children didn’t buy anything—’

  ‘No!’ shouted Linda. ‘I bet they didn’t. They’d be shoplifting again!’

  Kate was aghast at the venom in her voice. ‘Linda! You really must be more careful what you say. Did you see them shoplifting?’

  ‘Well, no, not this time, I had a queue, but they do. We know they do.’

  ‘Then if you didn’t see them shoplifting today you have no evidence to back up your story. Talk about giving a dog a bad name.’

  ‘But they do, Mrs Fitch. If I didn’t see them, it doesn’t mean they haven’t, does it?’

  Kate took a deep breath. ‘Yes, but I do wish you wouldn’t shout it out for all and sundry to hear. It’s not right. They have enough problems without this kind of scandal-mongering.’

  Jimbo heard the raised voices and came quietly into the front of the Store. Inwardly he groaned. Not Linda again.

  ‘Scandal-mongering! It’s a fact. They’ve been seen.’

  ‘You could have some compassion for them, Linda.’

  Linda stood up, unlocked her Post Office ‘cage’ and came out firing on all cylinders. ‘I’m not one of your school kids. You’re not ruling me with a rod of iron. You’ll apologize to me for saying scandal-mongering, I won’t have it. I’m not making it up. It is true, even if it is gossip.’

  Jimbo patiently intervened. ‘Excuse me, ladies, if you please.’

  But Linda hadn’t heard him. ‘I’ve half a mind not to let my Lewis come to your school in September. The way you treat people is nothing short of . . . well . . . scandalous. It’s disgraceful.’

  Kate gave an exasperated sigh and said, ‘I only asked you to show compassion. If your Lewis was going through a difficult patch, would you want someone shouting the odds about it all over the village?’

  ‘It wasn’t all over the villa
ge, it was in here, and you were the only customer.’

  ‘No, she wasn’t,’ said Tom. From behind the tinned soups two customers appeared; Angie Turner and a confederate of hers from the bottom of Church Hill. Angie, ever bristling for a scrap, said, ‘We heard every word. It’s shameful shouting out loud like that about some poor kids who can’t help being poor. You should wash your mouth out with soap, you should. Don’t you ever dare say anything like that about my kids. Just you mind you don’t. See.’

  ‘You’ve some room to talk. What about when your Colin killed poor Bryn Fields because of his loud mouth? And don’t tell me he didn’t because I was there.’

  A shocked silence followed her outburst. Everyone froze at this unforgivable accusation.

  Finally Jimbo bellowed, ‘Linda! That is enough. For the very last time, the very last time, I am telling you to leave my employment and I don’t care if I have to shut the Post Office. You are not coming back in here as one of my employees. And that is final.’ He walked to the door and flung it wide open, seething with passion, not knowing at that moment whether what he was doing was right or wrong; the bell jangled hysterically as though sensing the enormity of the drama.

  Linda was appalled. She realized that this time he really, truly meant it. He’d said it before, but there was something very different in his attitude today. Heavens! What would Alan say? They needed her money like a drowning man a lifebelt, and would never have that second kid she wanted if she wasn’t working.

  Well, she wasn’t going without saying her piece. Confronting her critics, she said, ‘I’ve slaved in that dratted cage for more years than I care to remember, locked in day in, day out. Am I glad to be rid of it! Taskmaster, you are, Jimbo, and I’m glad I’m no longer beholden to you. It wouldn’t matter if you came crawling,’ she relished the word, ‘crawling on your hands and knees, and offered me twice what you pay me now, which you wouldn’t because you’re a skinflint, I wouldn’t come back, not if we were starving. It’s a blessed release, believe me. And I shall take you to a tribunal for unfair dismissal, Alan knows all about ’em. Believe me, I mean every word.’

  Jimbo answered her in clipped tones, keeping the tightest of control on his temper, and it showed in the cruel pleasure he took in saying, ‘Do as you wish, Linda, it is entirely up to you. Take me to twenty tribunals if you want, but go, now!’ He opened the door as wide as possible and briefly raised his boater to her. Linda flounced out, livid, speechless and defeated.

  Tom was the only one to move. He entered the ‘cage’, retrieved Linda’s handbag, and went to stand opposite Jimbo, who was still holding the door wide open. In a moment during which not a word had been spoken, Linda charged back in, spotted Tom at the door holding her handbag at arm’s length by the tips of his fingers, impatiently snatched it from him and strode away without even so much as a thank you.

  ‘Well . . .’ said Angie Turner, ‘she’s cooked her goose and not half. Wait till I tell Colin about this. He didn’t, you know, kill him.’ Then she collapsed on her friend’s shoulder and burst into tears.

  Jimbo cleared his throat rather loudly, Tom went back to the till grinning and Kate caught Jimbo’s eye. They both began to laugh, but sobered up when they realized how hurt Angie Turner had been by Linda’s statement. Kate put an arm around her and said, ‘We all know it wasn’t your Colin. He’s the last man on earth to deliberately take an action that would result in someone’s death.’

  ‘He’s a big fella but he’s s-s-so gentle.’

  ‘I know he is. I know. Don’t take it to heart. She’ll come round and be apologizing all over the place, you wait and see.’

  Jimbo shook his head. ‘I’ve sacked her and taken her back time and again but I’m afraid this is her Waterloo. Finito. Finish. Done.’ He took off his boater and smoothed his hand over his bald head, a sure sign he was agitated. He huffed and puffed a bit, then looked at Tom and said, ‘Well, Tom, there’s only you.’

  Startled, Tom said, ‘Only me?’

  Jimbo nodded towards the Post Office.

  Tom braced himself to spring into the breach. ‘Of course. Soon have that sorted. Not much to it, I reckon. She made a lot of fuss over nothing.’

  ‘Half a day, one to one instruction? Sunday? At two?’

  ‘Agreed.’

  ‘Fine. That’s solved then.’ Jimbo walked off into the back, leaving Tom pleased with himself and Kate dazzled by Jimbo’s decisiveness.

  ‘Will you be able to do it, Tom? There’ll be a lot to learn, won’t there?’ Kate asked.

  ‘It’ll be a pleasure. Something to get my teeth into. And I can assure all here present that there’ll be no more gossiping like old fishwives.’

  ‘Well, that’ll make a refreshing change.’

  Angie said through her tears, ‘Not before time. I’m sorry.’

  Kate patted her arm. ‘Nothing to be sorry about, Mrs Turner. It was very hurtful. I fear she wasn’t thinking what she was saying. Must be off. I left my desk covered in paperwork. Teaching would be all right if I didn’t have so many forms to fill in. They arrive by the vanload sometimes, well, at least it feels like that. Oh for the good old days when all they kept was the register and the school log book.’

  Back at school, Kate opened up the secure cupboard though how safe it would be if someone was determined to get in it was debatable, and took out the very first volume of the school log book with the intention of reading it after she and Craddock had eaten their evening meal. The sweetest smile came over her face when she thought about Craddock and she revelled in her thoughts about him for a while, only pulling herself together when she heard Mrs Dobbs whizzing round the hall with her sweeping brush. If she didn’t keep a guard on herself she’d be drooling over him like a teenage schoolgirl, but why not? They’d only been married weeks and she acknowledged already they were the best weeks of her life so far. Because they were having fun, the two of them, which she’d promised him they would.

  Mrs Dobbs thrust her head round the door. ‘Going yet? I’ve got your office to do next. Got to keep to my working plan, or I’ll lose the thread of what I’ve done and not done, if you get my meaning.’

  ‘Five minutes.’

  ‘OK! I’ll water the plants while I wait.’

  Kate smiled at the fact that Mrs Dobbs couldn’t help but mention her working plan. It was a methodical way of cleaning the school, which Kate had set up a fortnight after Mrs Dobbs had started the job, mainly because she left some jobs entirely undone and cleaned other things every day, which really only needed attention once a week. But it was a thorn in Mrs Dobbs’s flesh, and she never ceased letting her know it.

  When Kate emerged from her office, Mrs Dobbs was leaning on her brush handle looking injured. ‘About time. I’ve something better to do than stand here waiting for you. School’s finished and I expect to be able to get on with my work straight away. I’ve done the classrooms and, according to your list, the hall and your office are next.’

  Kate smiled graciously and said, ‘And a very good job you do too, Mrs Dobbs. When Bel Tutt left I thought we’d be in a real mess but, lo and behold, you move into the village and come to our rescue. I’ve nothing but praise for your standards. Goodnight. See you tomorrow.’

  Ashamed of her very obvious bootlicking, Kate started up her car, realized she’d left the school log book behind and decided to go back to get it, rather than leave it out all night. Walking lightly back down the corridor in her flat shoes, Kate saw the office door was ajar; Mrs Dobbs was obviously still in there. With her back to the door, Maggie was blithely flicking through a file, which Kate knew had been in the filing cabinet when she left. Kate tiptoed back a few paces and then coughed, paused and then walked into the office. ‘I’ve left a school log book out somewhere. Ah! There it is! Goodnight!’

  Mrs Dobbs had been starting to clean the washbasin when she’d walked in, but Kate knew differently. Good cleaners, like good teachers, were hard to come by and she’d no intention of losing Mrs Dobbs, be
cause, despite her faults, she did clean well and was reliable. She’d just have to remember to lock the filing cabinet as well as her secure cupboard, every single night.

  That evening she became so engrossed in the log book she quite forgot Craddock until he surprised her by asking, ‘What’s so interesting in that old book?’

  Kate looked up at him. ‘It’s fascinating,’ she said. ‘Listen to this: “Five strokes of the cane on the hand for Jim Glover for idleness – 27 May 1854.” I can’t believe I can read about the ancestors of people still living in the village today. It feels as if it happened only yesterday. It’s so real.’

  ‘Mmm. I expect it definitely felt real to Jim Glover. I wonder how many times our Jimmy Glover got whacked for idleness when he was at school? Some of the young horrors today could do with a dose of the cane. Smarten their ideas up no end.’

  ‘Darling!’

  ‘They have no moral strength!’

  ‘Haven’t they? I wonder if it made him work harder or even more disinclined to pay attention. I’d hate to have to cane anybody.’ Kate shuddered at the prospect.

  Craddock smiled indulgently. ‘If you could, who would you cane?’

  Kate laid the log book down beside her on the sofa, leaned back with her hands behind her head and said, ‘Mrs Dobbs.’

  ‘Mrs Dobbs! Whatever for?’

  ‘Opening my filing cabinet and reading a confidential file.’

  ‘How do you know?’

  ‘I saw her. She didn’t realize I was there.’

  ‘Oops! Poor Mrs Dobbs.’

  ‘I’d like to cane whoever is stealing, except I know who’s doing it but haven’t any evidence, and they’re already far too vulnerable.’

  ‘You’re not duped by psychology, are you? Bad childhood so everything unacceptable they do ever after is excusable? Some day one has to take responsibility for oneself. I did.’