Read The New Rector (Tales from Turnham Malpas) Online
Authors: Rebecca Shaw
The New Rector (Tales from Turnham Malpas) (7 page)
When Suzy opened her door to them she was hysterical. She flung her arms around Peter, clutching his coat and
alternately crying and screaming. Caroline’s matter-of-fact voice in the background saying, ‘Suzy, let us in or all the neighbours will be round,’ brought her head up with a jerk.
She produced a handkerchief from her sleeve, wiped her eyes and drew back.
‘I’m so sorry.’ This was said more to Caroline than to Peter. ‘I know I’m being ridiculous but the press will not leave us alone. They’ve been pestering my mother, they keep ringing me, they’ve been to the school where I used to teach, they’ve even found out where
I
went to school and have been asking friends what I was like at school. Nasty suggestive things like, “Was she very interested in boys? Did she have a lot of boyfriends? Did she take drugs?” They’re trying to dig up dirt about me for their articles. I just need someone to consider my feelings. I’m sorry for asking you to come.’ She burst into tears again and sat down with her head almost on her knees.
Caroline rooted about in the sideboard and found a bottle of brandy.
‘What you need, my girl, is some brandy and a good night’s sleep. Here you are – drink it slowly.’ Caroline stood over her while Suzy, protesting, drank each and every drop.
‘I don’t want it.’
‘Well, it’ll do you good. Now to bed if you please, while you’re feeling warm inside. I’m not going to leave you; I’ll spend the night on the settee.’
Suzy vehemently shook her head. ‘No, no, I can’t have you do that for me! Please, I shall be all right.’
Caroline insisted and got her way. She found a pillow and a duvet and arranged them on the settee.
‘Be a darling, Peter, and go home and bring me my night things. Or you stay here and I’ll go.’
When he got back Suzy was tucked up in bed and Caroline was reassuring her that she would listen for the children. She peeped into the two bedrooms where the girls slept and wished she had to go the rounds in her own house every night before
she
went to bed … Peter came back to the house, gave her what he’d brought, kissed her and quietly left.
When, finally, the body was released for cremation, Suzy was free to put Patrick in the bin as she’d said she would. Caroline tried to persuade her to have the ashes buried at the crematorium, arguing that at the moment she felt that was what she wanted to do, but in later years she might think differently. Suzy disagreed.
The day the urn came home, she waited until it was dark and the children were in bed, then she put the urn in a Sainsbury’s plastic bag and marched through the village to the beck. She couldn’t quite bring herself to put the ashes in her own bin, so she was going to use the Council bin by the little footbridge. Watching the water flowing by, however, she decided it would be preferable to scatter her husband’s last remains over the surface of Turnham Beck and let them rush away, eventually down to the sea perhaps and out into the world.
Suzy turned for home, feeling as though a door had been shut on a part of her life. There was nothing to do now but step forward into the next stage. Patrick’s pension would be adequate if she lived carefully, and what with the playgroup and things she would be busy enough. Perhaps one day she might meet someone else whom she could love. But not yet. She needed to live for a while entirely for herself. For a start she’d find someone to babysit for her, perhaps Toria
Clark would do it, and she would attend Jimbo’s birthday party. Why not? She’d be a person again wholly unto herself, not having to worry about Patrick causing offence with his withdrawn, offhand manner.
Muriel lay on the bed in her underskirt reading this week’s book from the mobile library –
A Horseman Riding By
. A most enjoyable story; what a lovely young man he was. When her little china clock said seven o’clock Muriel got up, refreshed herself with more Panache, put on her dress, tied the little bolero beneath her now unrestrained bosom, eased on her court shoes, picked up the evening bag
she’d used at the annual Young Conservatives’ Dance all those years ago, kissed Pericles on the top of his head and sallied forth to Jimbo’s party.
She’d done that unforgivable thing, arrived first and too early. Seven-thirty for eight, the invitation had said, and look what she’d done – arrived at twenty-five past seven.
‘Come in, Muriel, come in. Delighted to see you!’ Jimbo kissed her warmly on both cheeks. ‘You’re not a customer tonight, you’re a guest so I can call you Muriel and give you a kiss. I must say, you’re looking stunning tonight. Where did you pick up that little number?’ Muriel blushed. ‘You three come here and greet Miss Hipkin.’
Out of the sitting room popped the boys Fergus and Finlay and then little Flick, all dressed in their best. ‘Daddy, Daddy, can we give Miss Hipkin her sherry?’ Flick asked excitedly.
‘Don’t worry, Muriel, they’re not staying up for the dinner, just long enough to welcome everybody and then off to bed. We like our children to be sociable beings and to know how to behave. Yes, you may, gently now.’
‘I’m much too early, I am sorry.’
‘Not at all, it’s good to see you. Harriet has everything under control. Excuse me while I attend to the wine.’
The children took Muriel into the sitting room. The boys led her to a chair and Flick brought her a sherry.
‘How did you know I like sherry?’
‘Daddy said you would. The others will want gin and tonics but he says you belong to the old school and you’d want sherry.’
‘Oh, I see. Are you enjoying school?’
The boys pulled funny faces but Flick said, ‘Oh, yes! Miss Clark is lovely. She’s so funny, she’s always making us laugh. She’s not coming tonight, though. She’s sitting in
for Mrs Meadows.’
‘Is Mrs Meadows coming, then?’
‘Oh, yes. Mummy said it would do her good to mix a little.’
‘How old are you, Flick?’
‘Six, why?’
‘You seem to know a lot of what goes on.’
‘Mummy and Daddy think we should know. Anyway, I listen when I shouldn’t.’
At that moment, Harriet came in with her mother and mother-in-law.
‘Muriel – can I introduce my mother-in-law, Katherine, and of course you know my mother Sadie.’ She took them to shake hands with Muriel and left them talking.
Katherine settled herself importantly in the chair next to Muriel, leaving Sadie Beauchamp to stand beside her.
‘So, Muriel, you’re one of the village people, are you?’
‘I live in the village, yes.’
‘All this seems rather a bore to me. Jimbo should never have organised this party. I’ve only come because I didn’t want to let him down. He had a great career in a merchant bank, you know, doing famously until he got this idea that he would leave the rat race as he called it and come down here to be a grocer.’
Muriel felt bold enough to be controversial. Perhaps the sherry had gone to her head and not to her knees as usual.
‘I’d hardly call him a grocer. He and Harriet have a very good busines here. They’re doing—’
Sadie indignantly interrupted: ‘Sometimes, Katherine, you are extremely rude. They are making a great success of this business! I’m here every day, so I should know, and I can also see that Jimbo is in much better health than he was.’
‘Allow me to know what is best for my own son.’
Katherine snorted and turned her attention to making Muriel feel small.
‘What have you done with your life – Muriel, is it?’
‘I was a secretary to a solicitor until I retired. Now I live in Glebe Cottages.’
‘I must say, you know how to dress – rather surprising for a village person. Though I don’t suppose you get much chance to wear an ensemble like that. Who is this gorgeously handsome man coming in?’
Sadie smiled and told her he was the rector.
‘The
rector
? What a perfect waste of a man. He should be in a city parish heading for a bishopric. His wife looks very stylish. I assume it
is
his wife, and not his mistress. One has to be so broad-minded where the clergy are concerned nowadays.’
Muriel stood up to welcome Caroline and Peter and introduce them to Jimbo’s mother. Sadie they already knew from church. Muriel took this opportunity to escape and spend some time with Suzy, who had just arrived with Michael Palmer. Suzy was wearing a bright scarlet skin-tight dress which revealed more than it concealed. Muriel felt it was hardly suitable for a new widow. Which indeed Suzy knew it wasn’t, but she was in a defiant mood. Mustn’t cast a cloud over the festivities: Jimbo had a right to enjoy his party.
Harriet gently guided everyone into the dining room, so the children reluctantly went off to bed while the adults settled themselves at the table. How Harriet had ever found
the time to lay the table, let alone provide all the wonderful food, Muriel could not understand. The table had been spread with a delicate pink cloth, down the centre of which were small glass candle-holders, each containing a pink candle gently illuminating small pink and white flower arrangements – just the right height not to obscure the face of the person sitting opposite you. There were three crystal wine glasses at each place setting, and a pink linen napkin arranged in the shape of a swan. The hors d’oeuvre were already in place. She knew Sadie came every day to help, but even that couldn’t explain how all this food had been cooked to such perfection.
Peter and Caroline were seated opposite Muriel, and on either side of her she had Suzy and Katherine. Next to Caroline was Lady Bissett, with Sir Ronald next to his wife. It seemed an unfortunate choice to have Sheila and Caroline together, but Harriet wasn’t to know they didn’t get on. Jimbo sat on one end, with Harriet and her mother at the other. In between were Michael Palmer and Liz and Neville Neal; Neville being Jimbo’s accountant.
The food was unusual and quite superb, and by the time Muriel had chosen hazelnut meringue for her dessert she’d no idea how she would find room for it. Three different wines at one sitting had made her very talkative and the wine had also loosened the tongue of Lady Bissett.
‘We shall be very busy next weekend, shan’t we Ron … ald?’
‘Yes, indeed. We have Neil and Glenys coming for the weekend, you know.’
Caroline stopped eating her zabaglione and, all innocence, asked: ‘Neil and Glenys? Should I know them?’
‘Of course you know Neil and Glenys Kinnock! He’s going to be the main speaker at the Labour Party rally in
Culworth. We suggested they stayed with us – typical English country weekend and all that. Give them a chance to relax.’ Sir Ronald had answered her in all seriousness, but Lady Bissett guessed Caroline was being provocative.
Peter gave Caroline a nudge but she ignored it, continuing: ‘I do hope there won’t be an overspill in the village, and that we shan’t be inundated with banners and marchers. I understand that the rally is quite crucial as far as the Party is concerned.’
‘No one will even know they’re here – it’s being kept secret. Well, the police know, of course. Thanks to his position in the Party they have to check out where Neil is.’
‘I see.’ Caroline put down her spoon and leaned over towards Lady Bissett, enquiring confidentially: ‘Do they have any particular quirks which Central Office have had to tell you about?’
‘Quirks? Certainly not. They’re very nice people.’ Lady Bissett turned to Peter. ‘We do hope that now you’re settled in here we shall soon be hearing the patter of tiny feet at the Rectory, Peter.’
After a short pause Caroline answered on his behalf. ‘That you will not be hearing … Sheila.’
‘Oh, you’re one of these modern women who doesn’t believe in having children, is that it? You’re a career woman then?’
‘It is a matter entirely between my husband and myself, and no concern of yours. I think you are being offensive.’
Peter interrupted with a kindly, ‘To our great regret we are unable to have children, Lady Bissett.’
‘It will soon be the Village Flower Show, Lady Bissett. What do you have in mind for it this year?’ Muriel strove to change the conversation, but Sheila Bissett would have none of it.
‘I have no need to resort to having children in order to justify my existence.’
Caroline was dangerously near to tears and Jimbo, receiving distress signals right down at his end of the table, sprang to his feet and offered Sheila Bissett more wine, thus diverting her from Caroline. Katherine Charter-Plackett intercepted a glance between Suzy and Peter. She leant towards Muriel and whispered in a loud voice: ‘What’s between the gorgeous Rector and that red siren? There’s something going on.’
Muriel was horrified. Fortunately Caroline was occupied getting her feelings under control and missed Katherine’s comment, but Peter didn’t. He looked very distressed.
Neville sat back, well satisfied with his meal. ‘Harriet, that was wonderful! You ought to open a restaurant, you know. You’ve got the talent and the experience.’
Harriet playfully put her hand over his mouth, as she spotted a sparkle come into Jimbo’s eyes when he overheard the remark.
‘Be quiet, Neville. Don’t put any more ideas into his head, there’s enough there already. No, Jimbo, down, boy, down. I’m not falling for that one.’
Neville continued making his point. ‘There’s that cottage next to Sadie’s house going for a song,
and
it’s got spare land at the side for a car park. Sadie would be very handy for keeping an eye on it, wouldn’t you, Sadie? It would make an excellent restaurant, right opposite the village green and all.’ They all burst out laughing but Jimbo didn’t laugh; he made a note of it in the filing cabinet he called his mind.
‘Your very good health, Jimbo. Here’s to your fiftieth!’ Peter said and they all applauded. After that they danced, played games and had a thoroughly riotous time. At midnight Peter said he really must go as he had early service tomorrow, and he and Caroline offered to escort Muriel home. Jimbo went with them to the door. He took Muriel by the shoulders and gave her a huge kiss.
‘Thank you so much for my splendid pen. I shall treasure it as a gift from a lovely lady who did herself proud tonight.’ Muriel felt bold enough to kiss him back.
Jimbo then kissed Caroline and whispered in her ear. ‘Take no notice of my old hag of a mother. I don’t. She isn’t worth the candle – OK?’
She smiled, took Peter’s hand and they went off into the night. The moon shone and the sky was full of stars bright and clear, a perfect ending to a lovely evening.
‘Good night, good night and thank you for seeing me home.’
‘Good night, Muriel, see you tomorrow.’ Both Caroline and Peter waved to her as they turned down Church Lane towards the Rectory. Peter was gripping Caroline’s hand tightly. Caroline remained silent. She knew how Peter longed for children and she longed for them, for his sake. The hurt engendered by Sheila Bissett was beyond endurance.
When they were safely tucked up in bed Caroline in a small tight voice offered Peter a divorce.
He sat up, shattered by what she had said. ‘A
divorce
! Why?’
There was a moment’s silence before Peter answered.
‘Caroline, I’m not worthy of you. I married you because you are the light of my life, not for the sole purpose of procreation. You make me feel very small. Don’t ever dare suggest such a thing again. That is, unless you yourself truly want a divorce, though heaven help me if you did. Who’d want me anyway? There’s only a saint like you could put up with me.’
‘That’s not true, you’re very eligible. In fact, you’re really rather superb. I saw Katherine Charter-Plackett looking you over!’
‘Her tongue’s too sharp. It’s time she engaged her brain before she speaks. I’m giving you a good night kiss and then I’m going down to my study to have a word with the Lord.’
‘You can have a word with Him here, if you wish.’
‘No, you’ll distract me. I need to think. Good night, my love.’
Peter went down to his study and wept.