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Authors: Rebecca Shaw

A Village Feud (34 page)

BOOK: A Village Feud
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The heady scent of the flowers and the fruit hit Peter’s nostrils the moment he turned the key in the main door when he went into the church for his daily prayers. The whole place felt to be alive. The trailing wreaths around the stone pillars, the exuberant arrangements on every window-sill, the fruits arranged around the font, the density of the foliage along the high stained-glass window-sill above the altar, the vines wrapped skilfully around the carved woodwork of the pulpit, and the careful threading of sprays of green leaves amongst the carving of the screen shielding the memorial chapel.

Peter’s heart almost burst with joy. What a sight! What a wonder! What faithful people his congregation were. So loyal. When he returned in time for the 8 a.m. service he found Sheila busy checking the flower vases and putting to rights flowers which had drooped during the night.

‘Good morning, Rector. What do you think?’

‘Absolutely wonderful. You’re a miracle-worker, Sheila.’

‘Well, it’s not just me. All my flower ladies have made a big effort.’

‘All swept along by your enthusiasm.’

‘To be honest, Peter, I’ve no talents at all except this. Absolutely none. I couldn’t give a sermon, say, to save my life.’

‘I wouldn’t worry too much about that. This one talent more than makes up.’

Sheila blushed. ‘That’s kind saying that. Thank you.’

The congregation at the early service was as nothing compared to the one at ten o’clock. Every single seat in the pews was taken, even the front row, and Zack the verger had brought in extra chairs from the hall, only to find he also needed the bench from outside the boiler house, with all the bird mess cleaned off and a chenille tablecloth, that his wife had brought from home to spread over it. It looked quite inviting there, in front of the font, for the latecomers.

The altar looked magnificent with all the ancient church silver splendidly displayed, it being a special day. The tall floor-standing silver candlestick holder caught the gleam of the sun as it came in through the stained glass and made it look almost celestial. The silver collection plates standing on the altar along with the chalice reflected the colours of the fruit and flowers so tastefully arranged around them; an artistic triumph, thought the congregation. Good old Sheila. She might get their goat a lot of the time, but she’d certainly come up trumps today.

The lunch proved to be not a simple ploughman’s at all, but a feast, of which the WI was rightly proud. After the lunch came the auction, which raised almost £400 for their charities.

When the announcement was made of their triumphant total Sheila wanted Anna to make a speech, and prompted her into doing so by stamping her feet and calling out, ‘We want Anna, we want Anna.’

Anna gracefully agreed and got to her feet. ‘I’m quite sure that this event is really for welcoming your very dear Rector and his family back home where they belong. I’ve tried my best to fill his place in your hearts, but I think I’ve only been partially successful.’ This brought a howl of protest from everyone and Anna blushed with embarrassment. ‘Well, maybe more than partially. I’ve loved it here. You all made me so welcome I couldn’t fail to be warmed by your approval. But I’m off back to that den of iniquity, the Abbey. I hope that sometimes I will be able to come back and see you all. God bless!’

Jimbo stood up and shouted for three cheers for Anna and they all joined in. After all, she hadn’t been that bad, had she?

But then the call was for Peter to speak. So he stood up and looked around at them all, smiling with such delight that more than one had a sob caught in their throat. His heart was filled with such joy and he thanked everyone he could think of for all their efforts:

‘“A ploughman’s lunch”, I was told. Well, if ploughmen ate as well we’ve done today, I’d be a ploughman any day! We’re all four of us so glad to be back in Turnham Malpas. While our tour of duty in Africa had a frightening end I cannot say we wished we hadn’t gone, because we met some wonderful people struggling desperately to be Christians in a very alien place; not for them the coming together with total freedom as we have done today, but facing murder and fear and hunger, yet still remembering to be grateful for life’s mercies.

‘Especially I would like to thank Anna for taking care of my particular patch so magnificently. Everything in my study is in apple pie order, and so is my congregation. Thank you, Anna.’

Peter walked across to her and kissed her cheek. She flung her arms around him and kissed him back, and more than one eyebrow was raised amongst the onlookers. But they all gave three more cheers for Peter, then the time came to collect their purchases and wend their way home.

The Charter-Placketts, having done their bit towards the clearing-up and staggering under the weight of the fruit and flower arrangements they’d bought, went home. Harriet went to put the kettle on to make a cup of tea, but Jimbo said, ‘No. I’ve got champagne in the fridge.’

‘Champagne? Whatever for?’

‘All will be revealed. I’ve got the tray. You get the glasses. Don’t forget Mother, she won’t be a moment.’

‘Jimbo! What’s this all about?’

‘Wait and see, you impatient woman, you. Fran is having a glass, too.’ Jimbo walked into the sitting room carrying the champagne.

Finlay said, ‘I thought we were having tea. What’s the champagne about?’

Flick and Fran said nothing, because their Grandmama said it for them. ‘So, Jimbo, dear, what’s this all about? Some new venture?’

‘Not exactly new, no. Everyone got a glass?’

Fran counted the glasses. ‘Am I having champagne, too?’

Jimbo nodded. ‘Oh, yes, most definitely you are.’

‘Dad, Mum’s not having another baby, is she?’ Finlay winked at his father.

Harriet said loudly and firmly. ‘Very flattering but absolutely not.’

Grandmama snapped at Finlay, ‘That, young man, was very vulgar of you, and what is more, thoroughly impolite to your mother.’

Flick laughed and raised an eyebrow at Finlay.

Jimbo called for silence. ‘Now, listen hard. I’ve been in consultation with Tom and Evie and, after a lot of thought and due to the pressure brought to bear on me by my wife and my mother, to say nothing of Peter Harris and all the rest of Turnham Malpas, Little Derehams and Penny Fawcett, I have decided … .’

Harriet interrupted, ‘You’re not … are you … you are!’

‘Hush!’ He paused significantly. ‘After due consideration, I am re-opening the Store at the end of next month, which gives me eight weeks to rev things up.’ A loud gasp of surprise interrupted him. ‘I ask you all to raise your glasses. A toast to the re-opening of the Turnham Malpas Village Store.’

They all gulped their champagne, hugged and kissed each other, asked questions, kissed Jimbo several times and roared with laughter. Everything restored to normal. Thank goodness. What a spectacular ending to a wonderful day.

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BOOK: A Village Feud
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