Keppelberg (7 page)

He looked around quickly again and then made for the exit to the village soon leaving the sandy lane far behind him. I couldn't really blame him for giving up on me. He had given me enough warnings and I knew that my car had been repaired and that it was waiting for me in the garage. But I was still fascinated by the thought that the village held an important secret, as well as Bridget McBain, to bind me into staying.

Wayne had only just left when I came face-to-face with the Secretary who had introduced me to Townsend at the meeting at the village hall. She stormed towards me with a face like thunder, her lips turning into a snarl as she approached.

‘If you know what's good for you, you'll leave here immediately,' she snapped angrily.

‘Not you as well,' I muttered under my breath before addressing her. ‘What did I do to upset you?' I retaliated, surprised at the anger in her tone.

‘Never you mind!' she reacted irately. ‘Just get out of this village and don't come back!'

‘What about the population number,' I advanced cheekily. ‘What are you going to do if I leave here?'

‘I don't care about that,' she continued in the same vein. ‘We don't want strangers here. So get out... now!'

‘And what about Bridget McBain,' I asked, trying to make some sense of the woman's anger. ‘What's she going to say to that?'

‘I don't care!' ranted the Secretary. ‘The important thing is for you to leave!'

‘And what if I don't?' I was determined to face out the woman who clearly disliked me intensely.

I wondered why she was so angry at me. I recognised that sometimes women said and did the opposite to the way they actually felt. In actual fact I began to wonder whether the Secretary, who was obviously married because she wore a wedding ring on the fourth finger of her left hand, feel sexually attracted to me but failed to be able to do anything about it? Now that Bridget McBain had surfaced, it may have been too much for her to accept. On the other hand, she may have simply disliked me intensely as a person and as a stranger.

‘What if you don't?' she repeated sullenly. ‘Then you'll be branded as a stranger and dealt with accordingly.'

‘Are you going to put me back into prison or perhaps do something worse,' I riposted with amusement. My response seemed to anger her even further for she was unable to speak for a few moments.

‘You won't be put back into prison,' she went on. ‘You'll be challenged by the pharmacy.'

The word made my blood freeze in my veins. There it was again... the pharmacy! What did she mean by the remark that I would be challenged there? Now I was beginning to narrow down the secret so carefully hidden in the village. It definitely had something to do with the pharmacy and I suddenly realised that I was going there in the morning to collect a supply of tablets. I shuddered to think what effect they would have on me. I had only the word of an unconventional doctor that there was too much iron in my blood. Was that yet another untruth like the one told to me by the priest? Then I asked an innocuous question which continued to bother me.

‘Where is the village inn here?' I enquired flatly, expecting a reasonable answer to my request.

‘There isn't one,' she replied sharply. ‘No one in the village imbibes alcohol. It's vitally important that we do not drink it.'

‘Why not? People like their little tipple.' I was becoming impatient with the issue. ‘Surely the life of every village lies in the public house... it's the local inn!'

‘Not in Keppelberg it doesn't!' she snarled as though I had insulted her personally. ‘Why do you ask so many questions?'

‘Why is this village so different to any other in Britain?' I cut in.

‘I'll not even attempt to answer that one,' she snapped ‘All I can tell you is to get away from here for your own safety... before it's too late!'

Her comment was most sinister but, before I could ask her what she meant by that, she turned on her heel and walked away into the distance. I wasn't angry at her insistence that I should leave the village. In fact it reinforced my will to remain. I could not understand why she should be so vehement about my departure.

It was time to have my evening meal and I made my way to the cafeteria. Before I arrived there, the young McBain boy came running towards me along the path. I expected him to hurry past but he stopped as he reached me and took hold of my arm firmly.

‘Sir,' he cried out in a squeaky voice. ‘You've got to help me. You've got to help all of us! You must!'

‘What's your name?' I asked with concern. Surely there couldn't be an emergency in Keppelberg with only me to deal with it. I looked around to check whether any of the houses were on fire but nothing led me to believe that this was so.

‘It's Robert,' he told me, breathing heavily from the effort of running along the path. ‘You must help me!'

‘You're Robert McBain,' I responded slowly. Bridget McBain's son. What do you need me to help you with?' Is it your homework?' He suddenly went silent as though a curtain fell in front of his eyes and he became very uncertain of what he wanted to say. My words seemed to have knocked the stuffing out of him because he fell completely silent. ‘Come on, lad!' I urged. ‘Spit it out! It's no use bottling it up inside you!'

He shook his head. ‘No... I can't tell you,' he replied as though guided by an invisible force. ‘You wouldn't believe me. You're a stranger in the village. You wouldn't understand.'

The hairs on the back of my head stood on end as anger began to rise within me. If anyone referred to me as a stranger again I would gladly throttle them.

‘Try me... I might understand.' I retorted.

‘No... you wouldn't! You're a stranger!‘

‘Goddam it!' I swore. ‘I'm a Briton with every right to be here. Every right. I was born in this country, so I'm not a stranger!' I turned to the boy so that he was facing me directly. ‘Now tell me what your problem is or forever hold your peace! I'll not be messed about!'

He grimaced as if he wanted to tell me something but couldn't find the right words, then he turned to run back along the path to his home. I followed him until I came to the McBain house and knocked on the door. Bridget answered and stared at me in surprise.

‘Is there something you want?' she asked in her cool lilting manner that sent an emotional shiver running down my spine.

‘Your son, Robert, stopped me on my way to the cafeteria,' I told her frankly. ‘He seemed very upset but he wouldn't speak to me about it. Is he all right?'

‘Yes... he's fine,' she responded. ‘Come inside and see for yourself.'

I paused and then decided to take her up on the offer. There was no harm in having a cup of tea with the woman. She was so lovely to look at it would be a pleasure to be in her company. She led me into the small lounge and sat opposite me. It was still strange to me to enter a room without a television set or a hi-fi, or a telephone and nothing electronic.

‘What do you do with yourself in the evenings?' I asked politely.

‘I read, ‘ she replied. ‘There's a wealth of good books here. On one evening each month there's a dance at the village hall.'

‘Did you use to go there with your husband?'

‘No... he couldn't dance. I sat listening to the music.'

‘You must miss him.'

‘Quite the contrary. Living with him was no fun at all. He gave up on me a long time ago.'

‘Surely not!' I cut in with surprise. I could not imagine anyone giving up on a twenty seven year old woman who looked quite as beautiful. The man had to be insane or blind. ‘There's something that's bothering me,' I carried on. ‘You have no electricity in the village, no motor vehicles and you're self sufficient for food. But where does the money come to buy seeds and any goods you need to buy? Who pays for the goods and how do they do it without money?'

‘The benefactor looks after us,' she said simply.

‘The benefactor?' I echoed puzzled. ‘Who's he?'

‘I don't know,' she replied innocently. ‘You'll have to ask Mr. Townsend that question if you want to know the answer.'

I started to become frustrated again because every avenue of enquiry seemed to branch off to another one. There were no straight answers to anything in this place!

‘When's your husband's funeral?' I enquired trying to keep the conversation going.

‘He's already been buried,' she answered sadly. ‘They took his body away before you came.'

‘But isn't there going to be a funeral. Some kind of a wake afterwards to celebrate his life?'

‘What for?' she replied. ‘He's dead and they buried him.'

I made a mental note to visit the churchyard to search for his grave the following day to determine that he had been buried there. It all sounded so weird.

‘How long were you married?' I carried on. I assessed that the boy was eleven and that she was about twenty-seven, so she had married when she was about sixteen or so.

‘Too long,' she replied dourly which astonished me. Her comment indicated that she had little love for her late husband during the time they lived together.

I was lost for words for a while and then the boy entered the room. He stared at me bleakly from the doorway as though he wanted to trust me with his problem. His young voice rang out in my head. ‘You've got to help me. You've got to help us! You must!' If only he could bring himself to tell me what was troubling him!

‘This village puzzles me,' I confided, trying to keep an even tone in my voice. ‘There's no television, no computers or hi-fis. No newspapers... no telephones... no village inn because no one's allowed to drink... no cinema... everyone's employed and no one leaves the village to go anywhere else. You tell me that a benefactor, whoever he might be, provides all the money you need. It's so Victorian. I don't get it.'

‘You don't have to, Mr. Ross.,' she told me casually. ‘You don't live here. You're not a member of our community.'

‘What would you say if I told you I intended to stay... despite the hostility shown to me by some of the folk here?'

She stared at me for almost half a minute before replying.

‘Are you propositioning me, Mr. Ross?' she ventured. ‘Do you think you might want to live with me?'

Her question took my breath away. I would have loved to have said it but she did it for me. She had taken the bull by the horns and opened up our lives as easily as one handles a picnic on the grass.

‘Firstly, ‘ I began in a new light, ‘I want you to call me Sam. Secondly, it was the last thing in my mind to hitch up with a woman... not for some time yet anyway... but you are so attractive I want to take you in my arms and hug you day and night. I'm sorry that you're grieving having just buried your husband...'

‘I'm not grieving,' she interrupted. ‘I'm glad he's gone. We actually disliked each other. The marriage was arranged many years ago much to my distaste. I was forced to marry him.'

‘I see, ‘ I managed to say. ‘I wanted to give you time to get over the shock. I didn't want to take advantage. I mean the moment I saw you, I became besotted. You are truly beautiful and I'm in love with you.' I'd spoken my mind and there was no doubt she knew how I felt about her.

She smiled at me wistfully. ‘I think you're very handsome, You have a strong face, a good physique, and I feel that I can trust you.'

‘What are you saying?' I challenged not quite grasping the nettle.

‘I think it would be a good idea for us to live together to see whether we could make a match,' she returned brazenly. ‘That's if you're willing to become part of our community. You realise that once we start a relationship, you will not be allowed to leave the village for any reason whatsoever.'

‘Why's that?' I demanded. ‘Why won't I be allowed to leave?' I became quite concerned with her comment.

‘I can't answer that question at this particular time,' she responded although I knew that she could. ‘There's a reason for everything and if you remain here you'll find out eventually.

‘I'm sure I will,' I said, rising as I decided it was time for me to leave.

‘Where are you going?' she asked with surprise showing on her face.

‘To the cafeteria to get myself something to eat,' I replied truthfully.

She stared at the clock on the mantel shelf. ‘It's closed,' she informed me. ‘The cafeteria closes early here.' I grimaced which cause her to laugh. ‘You're quite amusing, did you know that? I've watched your expressions and I think they're funny.'

I didn't know how to take that remark but I let it pass without responding. ‘Is there no other place to dine?'

‘Yes,' she said with a smile touching her lovely lips. ‘You can dine here with me and Robert.'

‘I wouldn't want to put you out,' I advanced stupidly although I was becoming hungry and the idea sounded good.

‘You won't starve in my house, I assure you. And there's something else. Where are you going to sleep tonight?'

‘I was going back to the police station to ask if they'd let me stay in one of the cells.'

‘You'll sleep here,' she said flatly. You can either sleep in my bed with me or on the couch here. It's quite comfortable.'

I wondered how she knew that but recognised she had probably argued with her husband and had slept on it. Nonetheless, this woman wasted no time dithering about political correctness. I could sleep with her in her bed. A wave of lust started to envelop me and I paused to recover my poise. I was sitting in a house with a very attractive widow who obviously regarded me as her next catch. Suddenly, I wasn't sure that I wanted to be captured so quickly. It was all going too fast for me.

After dinner, I helped Robert with his homework using a pencil and paper. The history he had learned went up to the Boer War and no further. He had no idea about the First or the Second World Wars. As far as he was concerned they hadn't happened. With the mathematics, I rued the fact that there was no calculator and I had to work out the figures in my head.