(9/13)The School at Thrush Green (18 page)

Nelly snorted, and slapped a heaped plate before her husband. It gave her some satisfaction to see that it was cleared in ten minutes.

'It's my bingo tonight,' she informed him. 'So don't go swilling beer next door while I'm out.'

She cleared the table, bustling briskly about the kitchen despite her bulk, and was ready within half an hour to accompany her friend Mrs Jenner to the Corn Exchange at Lulling, for her weekly treat.

Half-way through the evening's proceedings there was always a welcome break for coffee and biscuits. On this occasion, Nelly found herself sharing a small table with Gladys Lilly, and asked how Doreen was faring at the Lovelocks.

'It's pretty hard going,' admitted Mrs Lilly, 'as you said it would be, but I tell her she's lucky to have a job at all.'

'That's right,' agreed Nelly comfortably.

'But between ourselves,' continued Gladys, lowering her voice, 'she's proper unsettled. Keeps wanting to go out of an evening instead of stopping in with the baby. After all, I have him all day. It's only fair she takes over when she's home.'

'Well, she's young, of course,' said Nelly indulgently. 'Probably misses her husband.'

'He never was her husband,' said Gladys shortly.

'Sorry. I never thought.'

'To tell you the truth, that's another worry.'

'What is?'

'That chap of hers. I don't mind telling you, because I know it won't go any further – '

'Of
course
not,' said Nelly, now agog.

'But he was sent down for a twelvemonth for stealing, and I reckon he's just about out now.'

'In prison?' breathed Nelly.

'It wasn't all his fault,' said Gladys. 'Mind you, I'm not making excuses for him. I'm chapel and proud of it, and stealing's stealing, no matter what these social workers tell you. But all I'm saying is that the lad got into bad company soon after he left school, and they led him on. You know how it is. A bit of threatening, and a bit of jeering, and some of these tough boys can get the weaker ones to do the dirty work.'

'Well, I never!' gasped Nelly, suitably impressed with these disclosures. 'So where is he now, do you think?'

'That's what I don't know, but I hope he doesn't come worrying our Doreen to go back to him. She's that soft, she might well give in.'

'Surely not, if he left her in the first place?'

'Well, I hope not, but girls these days are soppier than we were, for all their dressing tough in denims and that. I blame this pill for a lot of it. In my young days we just said "No", and that was that.'

'You're quite right,' agreed Nelly virtuously.

At this moment the master of ceremonies called the company to the second half of the proceedings.

'Mind, not a word to anybody,' warned Mrs Lilly, as the two made their way back to their seats.

'Trust me,' Nelly assured her.

Of course, she told Mrs Jenner this delicious morsel of gossip as they returned home after bingo, and her friend was suitably impressed.

'I don't like to speak ill of anybody,' said Mrs Jenner, who was obviously about to do just that, with every appearance of enjoyment, 'but Doreen Lilly was always a fast hussy, and Gladys Lilly was too soft with her by half.'

'Is that so?'

'There was talk of a baby on the way when she was in her last year at school. I never knew the rights of the affair, but there's no smoke without fire, I always say.'

'Very true. Some of these young girls get very headstrong, I must say.'

'They bring their troubles sometimes,' agreed Mrs Jenner. 'And I'm always so thankful that my Jane never gave us cause for concern. A thoroughly good girl she always was.'

'Properly brought up, that's why,' said Nelly, as they puffed up the hill to Thrush Green.

'Well, maybe that had
something
to do with it,' conceded her friend.

They said goodnight with affection, and made for their own abodes with the comfort of this new nugget of news to warm them.

***

Within a week or so, as might be expected, it was generally known that the father of Doreen Lilly's child had been in prison.

Probably the only two people unaware of this interesting fact were Dorothy Watson and Agnes Fogerty. They had more than enough to do to cope with their own affairs at the moment.

This last term at Thrush Green school seemed to be packed with out-of-classroom activities. Already the ladies had been asked to keep the final afternoon of the school term free, for what Charles Henstock called 'a little celebration'.

He was considerably agitated when Dimity pointed out that 'a tribute' might have been a better way of putting things.

'"A celebration" might sound as though you are celebrating their departure,' explained Dimity.

'Well, we are,' protested Charles.

'Yes, but you are not
pleased
that they are going! It's like those notices in the "Deaths" column about a service of thanksgiving. If only people would fork out the extra money to add: "For the life and work of etc.," all would be clear, but it does look sometimes as if the bereaved were thankful to see the back of the dear departed.'

'Really,' exclaimed Charles, 'you horrify me! I had
never
in all my life, looked at it that way!'

'That's because you are a thoroughly good man,' said Dimity affectionately. 'Now stop worrying about it.'

The two teachers had also been asked to 'a meeting (venue to be arranged)' on the last Sunday of term, and to the July meeting of the Parent-Teacher association when 'a presentation to two well-loved ladies' was planned.

The engagement diary, kept beside the telephone in the school house, was getting uncommonly full although it was only May, and already Dorothy and Agnes were beginning to feel somewhat harried.

'I know it is all meant so
kindly
,' said Dorothy after school one day, when the two were restoring themselves with a cup of tea in the sitting-room, 'but I must say I shall be quite relieved when it is all over.'

'I feel exactly the same,' confessed Agnes.

The telephone rang, and Dorothy padded out in her stockinged feet to answer it.

She was some time in the hall, and Agnes sipped her tea and studied Dorothy's abandoned shoes lying askew on the carpet.

'Not another party?' she asked when her friend returned.

'Worse,' said Dorothy. 'Ray and Kathleen are calling in on their way back from Dorset next week.'

'How nice!' exclaimed Agnes. Dorothy's brother Ray and his wife were always more welcome to Agnes than to Dorothy who had little time for Ray and even less for his self-pitying hypochondriac of a wife.

'Well, at least they won't stop long,' said Dorothy, thrusting her feet into the shoes. 'They're stopping for tea before they get here, so a glass of sherry should foot the bill, and make less washing up.'

'Do you think they will bring their dog? What's-his-name?'

'Harrison? Heaven forbid!' Dorothy shuddered at the remembrance of the havoc caused by the exuberant animal in the house.

But Agnes was anxious about the well-being of her dear little cat, who might be scared away from the garden by the boisterous visitor. With commendable restraint she forbore from mentioning her fears to Dorothy, but she hoped that Ray and Kathleen would have the sense to leave their pet safely in the car.

One of the first people to visit and admire Dotty's new plaything was Winnie Bailey, who took advantage of a fine May afternoon to cross the green and take the footpath to Dotty's cottage.

The air was soft and balmy. Rooks wheeled above the lime trees in the gardens behind The Two Pheasants, bearing food for their vociferous nestlings.

In the Youngs' garden a sea of forget-me-nots surged around some splendid pink tulips lined up against the Cotswold stone of the fine house. A waft of warm air brought the scent of a bed of wallflowers, hidden from Winnie's sight by a mellow wall, and already the chestnut trees were showing embryo flower spikes.

Nothing, thought Winnie, could touch the month of May for sheer natural beauty. There were many devotees of autumn, praising the blazing trees, the joys of harvest and the like, but May was a time of hope, of youth, of splendours to come. It renewed her strength every year with its promise of summer joys.

She found her old friend in the chicken run, clutching an armful of wet weeds to her cardigan.

'Ah, Winnie!' cried Dotty. 'How nice to see you! Just let me scatter this nourishing salad for the girls, and I'll be with you. Such richness! Chickweed, hogweed, dandelions, shepherd's purse, groundsel, and lots more – all
teeming
with natural goodness. I can't persuade Connie to use such things for us unfortunately, but I suppose we get the nourishment, at second-hand as it were, in the hens' eggs.'

She cast her burden from her among the cackling birds, wiped her muddy hands down her skirt, and emerged from the run. Her bedraggled appearance somewhat shocked Winnie.

'Don't you think you should change your cardigan, Dotty? It's soaking wet, and you know how easily you catch cold.'

'Nonsense!' said Dotty, slapping her skinny chest. 'It'll soon dry. You're as bad as Connie.'

Winnie did not like to point out that it was Connie who had to do any nursing of this rebellious patient, and she followed Dotty across the garden to the new pond.

It certainly looked a fine piece of work, although still rather raw in appearance. No doubt, thought Winnie, once the stones had weathered and Dotty's tubs of plants were in place, it would be very attractive. The ducks seemed to be enjoying themselves, half of them diving with their feet waving happily, and the rest preening themselves on the surrounding stones in the sunshine.

'Dear things,' said Dotty fondly. 'It's such a treat for them, and I've had four eggs already.'

She waved her friend towards a garden seat, and they took their ease.

'And you are keeping well?' asked Winnie, trying to ignore Dotty's damp bosom.

'Just a touch of the jim-jams in my back, but Connie's taking me to see Tom Porter tomorrow, and he'll put me right.'

'You still go to him?'

Tom Porter was the local osteopath, used by a great many Lulling people, but Winnie had never had need, or desire, to take advantage of his gifts. Donald had never countenanced osteopathy and Winnie remained loyal to his beliefs.

'I never liked to tell your dear Donald,' said Dotty, as if she could read Winnie's thoughts. 'I know he didn't approve, but I always felt that Tom had such a sound working knowledge of the
skeleton!
'

'So have doctors,' replied Winnie defensively.

'Not to the same extent. I'm sure that Donald was very good on muscles and skin and the fleshy bits. And, of course, all those inner tubes – so alarmingly complicated – but the
framework
seems to be somewhat ignored by general practitioners.'

'Well, I shan't argue with you,' said Winnie. 'But what does he do?'

'He makes me lie flat on his rather hard couch, and crosses one leg over the other for a start.'

Here Dotty thrust out her skinny legs in their wrinkled lisle stockings for Winnie's approval.

'Then he presses on one knee,
quite gently
, and keeps measuring the lengths.'

'Of your knees?'

'No, no, dear! My legs! One seems to get shorter than the other which makes my back hurt.'

Winnie was about to say that surely the displacement of the back did the leg-shortening, but Dotty's grasshopper mind had already leapt to other topics.

'Tell me about Dorothy and Agnes. Have they got their car yet? And have they found a house at Barton? I hear from Betty Bell that Ray and Kathleen Watson are going to visit them soon. I wonder if they might take the school house eventually? Ray must be almost at retirement age, and I'm sure that country air would be good for Kathleen's health.'

'I don't know much about Ray and Kathleen's plans,' began Winnie, 'but I know that Dorothy is still waiting for a
white
car, and I don't know if a house at Barton has cropped up yet.'

She paused, while Dotty leapt to her feet, entered the nearby garden shed and reappeared with a hunk of stale bread which she began to tear into pieces and throw to the ducks.

A frenzied quacking and splashing ensued, while Dotty beamed upon her charges and scattered her largesse.

She really grows scattier every month, thought Winnie, but when it came to keeping an eye and ear open to local gossip then Dotty was as sharp as the rest of Thrush Green.

Part Three

Journey's End

14. Trying Times

AFFAIRS at Thrush Green school seemed to grow more hectic as the weeks passed. As well as the interminable tidying up, wondering what to reject completely, what to pass on to Miss Robinson for future school use, and what to keep 'just in case', the two retiring ladies had had several visits from would-be future teachers at the school.

To give them their due, these aspirants were careful to make an appointment and were sensible enough to make their visits brief, but nevertheless Dorothy found the interruptions to routine excessively wearing.