The Village Green Affair (23 page)

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Authors: Rebecca Shaw

BOOK: The Village Green Affair
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Neville was stumped by Peter’s logic. ‘Why should she need to be in love? What happened to keeping one’s promises? What about loyalty? What about being faithful? I’ve clothed her and fed her and housed her for twenty-five years. Does that count for nothing?’
 
Peter smiled a little ruefully. ‘Not much where love is concerned, I’m afraid.’
 
‘How can she love him more than me? That Titus Bellamy has done
nothing
to earn her love. They only met a couple of weeks ago, for heaven’s sakes.’
 
‘He’s a charming man. Cuddly and warm, is how Caroline describes him, and he is. Widower, you know. His wife died in childbirth, I understand, and the baby, too. Terrible blow for him. Splendid husband material, Caroline says.’
 
Sarcastically Neville asked, ‘Are you writing a job reference for him?’
 
Peter was dismayed by how obdurate Neville was proving to be. ‘If you care for Liz you should care that she finds a good person to share her life with.’
 
‘She already has a good person. Me! I don’t care what he’s like. He’s not having her. She’s mine, you see. I’ve spent thousands on her, on holidays, on clothes, jewellery, you name it. She
owes
me.’
 
Peter gave up trying. He got to his feet saying. ‘It’s late. I must go.’ Gently and with great compassion, he concluded, ‘Love, to thrive, needs to be freely given, Neville, without counting the cost. Think about it. God bless you. Goodnight.’
 
The moment Peter’s foot left the front step Neville slammed his extremely expensive, genuine solid oak door, and the sound reverberated right around the village. He listened until the echo had died away. He’d show Peter, and every person in Turnham Malpas, who had passion. He raced up the stairs two at a time ready to satisfy the passion he thought he’d discovered.
 
Chapter 12
 
Harriet, who always rose early to give herself time for half an hour of yoga before she began her day, was downstairs on her yoga mat halfway through her exercises when she heard urgent, discreet knocking on the front door. Who the blazes was it at 6.40 a.m.? Her yoga outfit emphasized more of her curves than she liked the general public to see, so she wasn’t quite on top of things when she opened the door and saw who was there.
 
It was Liz, with a holdall at her feet. ‘Can I come in?’
 
‘Of course you may.’
 
She stepped over the threshold and fell into Harriet’s arms.
 
‘Liz! Liz! What on earth’s the matter? What’s happened?’
 
Her voice muffled by tears, Liz whispered, ‘Can I stay for a couple of days? You’ve none of the children at home, have you?’
 
‘Fran’s here, that’s all.’
 
‘I could have a bedroom, then?’
 
‘Of course you could.’
 
‘Can I go to sleep right now?’
 
‘Yes, if you like. Come on, bring your bag.’
 
Harriet took her upstairs, showed her the bathroom, put her holdall in Flick’s old bedroom and, when Liz had finished in the bathroom, Harriet stood outside on the landing till she knew Liz had got into bed. Then she popped in.
 
‘Would a whiskey or something help you to sleep?’
 
Liz shook her head. ‘No, thanks, I need a clear head.’
 
‘Well, we’re getting up now, I’ve just heard our alarm. You stay put and I’ll bring you up a cup of tea when I make the breakfast. If you’re asleep I won’t disturb you. I’ll close the door, OK?’
 
Jimbo, who was stretching and turning over onto the warm patch Harriet had left, said, ‘What’s going on?’
 
‘I don’t know.’
 
‘Well,
I
certainly don’t. Who’ve you been talking to?’
 
‘Liz.’ Harriet sat on the bed trying to get her head together.
 
Jimbo emerged from the duvet. ‘Liz? What does she want?’
 
‘A bed.’
 
‘A bed?’ Jimbo considered this strange state of affairs and then asked, ‘Has she said why?’
 
‘No. But she looks ghastly. Absolutely ghastly. I don’t think she’s slept all night. She looks totally drained. And she’s walking as though she’s done twenty miles before breakfast.’
 
Jimbo put his not inconsiderable intelligence to the dilemma and came up with an answer. ‘This Titus business - it’s blown up in her face, hasn’t it?’
 
Harriet disappeared into the en suite. ‘Could be.’
 
Twenty minutes later, showered and dressed, Harriet tapped on Fran’s door. ‘Are you up, darling?’
 
Neither Jimbo nor Harriet mentioned that Liz was asleep in the house until after Fran had left to catch the school bus. The cup of tea Harriet had promised wasn’t needed, as Liz was fast asleep.
 
‘She’s absolutely spark out, Jimbo,’ Harriet told him, as she came back downstairs. ‘What do you suppose has happened?’
 
‘The mind boggles. We’ll have to wait and see. Can the girls get on in the kitchen without you for a while? Best if you’re here when she wakes. I’m off to see these people about the wedding at the Abbey at Christmas. Our grade A menu, the casino with croupiers, the jukebox, the carriage and horses - you name it, Jimbo’s organizing it. Three-tier cake but twenty-first-century design. Please note, my dearest . . . are you hearing this?’
 
‘It’s this morning I’m worrying about. December can take care of itself.’
 
‘Oh, right.’
 
‘Has Neville thrown her out after she spent a night of hot passion on Titus’s sofa, do you think?’
 
‘You’ve a very lurid imagination this morning. You need half another hour of yoga to calm you down.’ He laughed as he kissed her goodbye. ‘Must be off. Promised to be there by nine and it’s already a quarter past eight. Lots of love, Harriet, my darling, and good luck.’ As he spoke he pointed a finger at the ceiling, and was glad he had a cast-iron excuse to leave the house.
 
What the hell had happened last night? Honestly, one lived in a quiet village so quaint it didn’t even have street lighting or numbers on the houses, and yet all these things happened amongst seemingly sober citizens. Jimbo pulled away down Stocks Row and had to pause to wait for a car crossing in front of him. It was Neville Neal leaving for work in Culworth as he normally did. His driving was both fast and erratic, nothing like his usual precise style. Suddenly it struck Jimbo that maybe it hadn’t been a night of passion on Titus’s sofa that had brought Liz to their door, but something closer to home. Jimbo felt sick at the thought.
 
 
Harriet didn’t hear a sound out of Liz until noon when she emerged from the bathroom, her looks only slightly improved.
 
‘Something to eat, Liz? What do you fancy, the breakfast you missed or lunch?’
 
‘Lunch. Please. May I use your phone? I forgot to bring mine.’
 
‘Feel free. Use the one in the study; it’s more private in there.’
 
While Liz was in the study, Jimbo rang Harriet on her mobile. ‘It’s me. Any news? Are you free to talk?’
 
‘No news at all. Only just woken up. Are you coming for lunch?’
 
‘Er . . . er . . . no. She’ll find it easier to talk with me not there. I’ll accept this luncheon invitation I’ve received, OK? I’ll be back at about four.’
 
‘Coward!’ They both burst into laughter, then Jimbo said, ‘Bye-bye’ and rang off.
 
The two of them sat on the bar stools in the kitchen for lunch. They ate soup, rolls, cheese, biscuits and fresh fruit. Liz didn’t speak except to say thank you, and neither did Harriet. It was the quietest lunch they’d shared since, well, since they first knew each other when Jimbo and Harriet were new to the village.
 
‘I’ve given myself the day off, so if you need to talk I’m here,’ said Harriet eventually. ‘If not, that’s fine by me. We can’t pretend nothing has happened, can we? Obviously something serious has. If you’d prefer, I won’t tell anyone that I have you staying, OK?’
 
‘Thank you, that’s how I want it. I’ve spoken to Titus and he’s coming to see me, if that’s all right.’
 
‘Of course it is. He’s a lovely chap. Really sweet and kind, but with lots of backbone, too.’
 
A smile crossed Liz’s face, albeit of the fleeting kind.
 
Harriet pressed on. ‘I’m glad he’s special to you. Everyone needs someone special.’
 
Tears brimmed in Liz’s eyes. She snatched a tissue from the box on the kitchen worktop and rushed upstairs.
 
Titus arrived at four o’clock, then disappeared upstairs without the tray of tea Harriet offered him, and she didn’t see him again until after Fran came home.
 
‘Mum! What’s going on? Who’s here?’
 
‘Why do you think someone’s here?’
 
‘There’s a different smell in the house.’
 
Harriet swung round from the worktop and leaned against it. ‘Liz Neal is here, sleeping, and Titus Bellamy has just come to see her.’
 
Fran, who took after her father for loving gossip, emptied her mouth of Blue Riband and asked, her eyes sparkling with fun, ‘Really? Whatever for?’
 
‘I shall be quite truthful with you, Fran.’ Fran went on red alert. ‘I honestly do not know why she’s here. But she’s very upset and has asked Titus to come to see her. That’s all I know. On my honour.’
 
‘Maybe he’ll tell us when he comes down. Is he staying for dinner?’
 
‘Not that I know of, but I shall invite him.’
 
They heard footsteps coming slowly down the stairs. When Titus came to stand in the kitchen doorway, the sparkle in Fran’s eyes disappeared, because it was plain to see the gossip didn’t appear to be fun. She said quietly, ‘I’ll go and start my homework, Mum,’ and disappeared as quickly as she could.
 
Harriet looked up at Titus and began to smile, but that quickly changed to distress when she saw his expression. He raised a hand as though begging for understanding, and shook his head at her. Because she didn’t know what to say, she handed him a glass of water. ‘Oh, Titus. What the hell. Has he . . .’
 
The fearful answer was written all over his face.
 
‘Oh, God. No.’ Harriet gripped the edge of the worktop to steady herself.
 
Titus drank some of the water and then placed the glass down. ‘I’m going to find somewhere for her to live. Could she stay one more night?’
 
‘Of course, no need to ask.’
 
‘She’s hiding. She doesn’t want anyone to know where she is.’ Titus stopped speaking and stood quite still with a hand over his forehead shielding his eyes. ‘Oh, God. I don’t know what to do.’
 
Instinctively Harriet went to put her arms around him to give him at least a little comfort.
 
The front door opened. It was Jimbo. ‘Harriet?’
 
Jimbo arrived in the kitchen and stood looking at them. Eventually he said, ‘Sorry about all this, Titus. How can we help?’
 
Titus and Harriet broke apart. Titus rubbed his face with his hands to clear his head and said, ‘Liz needs some clothes. I wonder, Harriet, if you would go across the road with Liz and me to collect her things. I don’t think she should go by herself.’
 
Jimbo answered before Harriet could. ‘Absolutely not. You never know what you might have to face.
I’ll
come.’
 
‘I don’t mind, Jimbo.’
 
‘
I
mind.’
 
‘I’ve just said I don’t—’
 
Jimbo bellowed, ‘
Harriet
! You are not going.’
 
‘You’ve had a long day.’
 
‘I will not allow you to go under any circumstances.’ Jimbo signalled to Titus to hurry up. ‘Have we got a key?’
 
‘Liz has. I’ll go and tell her.’
 
While they were alone in the kitchen Jimbo whispered, ‘I know what I’m doing. I’ll explain when I get back.’
 
Liz came down the stairs with Titus. When Jimbo saw the two of them together, sympathy for their situation enveloped him, causing him to say gruffly, ‘We’ll go in my car. It’s too far for Liz to walk, and with all her stuff to carry.’

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