Trouble in the Village (Tales from Turnham Malpas)

‘My dear! You look delightful!’ He came across to kiss her cheek.

‘Handsome as ever, Ralph! How do you do it?’

Ralph studied her face. ‘Only in your eyes, my dear. I fear others see me as a crusty, short-tempered, elderly man with a somewhat old-fashioned penchant for “doing the right thing” …’

Muriel protested, ‘Never! Never! You’re courteous and kind and understanding and a pillar of the community. And much loved, not just by me.’

Ralph bowed with a mocking grin on his face. ‘You’re too kind.’

‘What do you think to the table? Have I forgotten anything at all?’

Ralph inspected the magnificent spread, and decided she’d forgotten nothing. ‘This is wonderful. Quite wonderful. I must say, Muriel, you’ve really excelled yourself today. A wonderful feast. How shall we sit everyone?’

‘If you look out of the window you’ll see that while you were out this morning everyone brought their garden chairs and tables.’

‘Evie’s coming, is she?’

Muriel answered him with a hint of apprehension in her voice. ‘She is. Poor Evie. I hope she can face it.’

‘Is there anyone not coming?’

‘Craddock Fitch. He’s in Warsaw.’

‘I shan’t miss him.’

‘Ralph! How unkind of you! He has improved so much since he nearly killed Jeremy.’

‘One can scarcely say he nearly killed him.’

‘Well, he escaped death by a whisker and we all know he collapsed in the middle of their most tremendous row. It’s that scathing, icy temper of his. It’s quite scary.’

‘He doesn’t scare me!’

Muriel smiled to herself. ‘Oh! I know he doesn’t. You’re a match for him any day.’

‘Self-made men are all right if they acknowledge that they are, but he tries to pretend he’s a gentleman, and one can’t. One either is or one isn’t.’

The bell rang and Muriel panicked. ‘Oh! They’re here! I should never have organised this. What a fool I am. You answer the door. Go on. Please! I feel quite dreadful.’

They’d said four for four thirty but by ten past almost all their guests had arrived. Presents were given, drinks accepted, kisses exchanged, chairs occupied, children commended on their smart appearance, greetings given and in the midst of it Muriel was in a complete flurry. She should have accepted the help she’d been offered, she knew that now. There was Evie in the corner without a drink in her hand. Oh dear! ‘Evie, what would you like to drink?’

Straining to hear Muriel had to guess she’d said, ‘Orange juice, please.’

‘Certainly.’ In her mind and conversation Muriel always prefixed Evie’s name with ‘poor’ because that was just how she always looked, and even more so today. Not poor in the sense of being without money but, rather, poor in spirit. Oddly dressed in a big emerald green wool jacket with beneath it a skimpy navy skirt and a black polo-necked T-shirt. Surely Tom could help her with her clothes? ‘Here we are! There’s plenty more. Help yourself. I’m so glad you could come.’

But Evie wasn’t for answering and in any case Katherine Charter-Plackett was demanding Muriel’s attention. ‘Muriel! I’ve been away! I’m looking to you to keep me up to date with the news.’

‘You must come for coffee next week and I’ll bring you up to date.’ Muriel immediately regretted her invitation but she couldn’t stop to talk now, still less face Katherine’s detailed interrogation about the smallest detail.

Katherine thanked her graciously, saying, ‘I’ll keep you to that.’

Muriel fled, intending to stand by Ralph’s side while she recuperated, but on the way across the hall she met Caroline. ‘Caroline! We’re so glad you could come! Where are the twins? Have they got a drink? I’ve put out Coca-Cola specially, I know how much they love it.’

‘You spoil them. They’re in the garden with Peter.’

If anything Caroline was thinner than ever. Anyone, even someone with a turnip for a head, could feel the unhappiness emanating from her. And from Peter too. In her heart Muriel damned that actor fellow Hugo for almost persuading Caroline to run off with him. He’d gone on to magnificent triumphs at Stratford leaving this girl behind with her marriage in tatters.

‘Enjoying getting back to general practice?’

Her question sparked Caroline off as Muriel knew it would.

‘Indeed I am. I’d no idea how much I missed it. One feels to have such purpose in life.’

‘Indeed. Purpose is so important.’

‘Three days a week suits me fine. I don’t feel too guilty about the children, you see.’

‘It must be hard coping without Sylvia. Can she not see her way to coming back to help?’

‘Muriel! Have we any more ice, my dear?’ She hastened off to answer Ralph’s request with yet another bucket of ice cubes from her new American fridge-freezer. It was so hot. She paused a moment to pat her handkerchief to her forehead and run the cold tap over her wrists to cool her down. There! Now she had a wet patch on her skirt. No one would notice they were all too busy enjoying themselves. There was such a hubbub of conversation, always a good sign that people were relaxed and happy. That was her problem with entertaining, worrying about whether the guests were enjoying themselves. On her way into the dining room with the bucket of ice she found herself enveloped in a bear-hug by Jimbo Charter-Plackett.

‘Just listen to that racket! Everyone’s having a wonderful time! Congratulations, Muriel! May Ralph see many more birthdays!’ Jimbo gave her a smacking kiss, which almost made her drop the ice. ‘Give that to me! I’ll take it. Wonderful party! We’re so lucky to have you and Ralph.’

He strode off and Muriel decided to seek the shade of the garden and make sure at the same time that everyone out there was happy.

‘Moo! Moo!’ They both rushed at her and little Beth flung her arms around her waist. ‘Moo! Can Alex and I have some more Coke? Daddy says we may, if it’s all right with you.’ Her ash-blonde hair and those lovely rounded cheeks, what a stunning combination they were! Alex took her hand. ‘Moo! May we?’ So like Peter! They could be his eyes looking at her.

‘Of course you may, as much as you want.’ She really must stop this dreaming and enter into the hurly-burly. Muriel targeted Peter, who was standing under the beech tree alone. There was far too much of that nowadays. Peter, alone.

He gave her his lovely smile and she looked up at him and smiled back. ‘I do believe, Peter, you get taller every day! Or maybe it’s me who’s shrinking!’

‘Neither! I think it’s you standing a little lower than me.’

Muriel looked down at her feet. ‘So I am. How foolish of me.’

‘Aren’t we lucky with the weather today, though? They say the sun shines on the righteous.’

Muriel ignored his joke. ‘I worry about Caroline. Is there no way we can get Sylvia back? Do you want her back? I wondered if I could –’

Being warned off so abruptly Muriel stepped back to see his face more clearly and her heart trembled for him. He might be the Rector and have answers to lots of other people’s problems but …

‘I see. Your glass is empty, come and get another drink.’ Muriel slipped her arm in his and drew him into the house. She subtly handed him over to Ralph and as she left the two of them she heard Ralph asking if he’d had any answers to his advertisement for a new verger. That would keep him busy.

Glancing at her watch Muriel decided it was time to eat. She checked she had the matches at the ready for lighting Ralph’s candles and went into the kitchen to make the tea. She’d had kettles from the church kitchen gently simmering since before everyone had arrived and now she put the tea-bags into the giant teapot she’d borrowed and turned up the gas under the kettles.

As she filled the teapot to the brim she felt a surge of triumph. It really was going well. She’d planned and schemed to get things just right this afternoon and her hard work was being rewarded. Full of success, she bounced into the dining room with the teapot.

It was the scandalised tone of Caroline’s question which gave her the first hint that all was not well. ‘You have what?’

Grandmama Charter-Plackett’s chin jutted but her mouth smiled. As far as the village was concerned that boded ill. ‘I have agreed with him. It should be done.’

‘I just happened to be having a cup of tea with him and he mentioned his intentions.’

‘But it’s none of your business.’

‘Are you saying that village affairs are nothing to do with me?’

Caroline’s eyes blazed. ‘I suppose I am. You’ve hardly been here two minutes and you’re interfering yet again, as if you haven’t caused enough trouble since you came. He’s getting away with this over my dead body.’

Grandmama drew herself up. ‘I think you’re taking this far too seriously. It’s perfectly ridiculous to be making such a fuss.’

Jimbo intervened. ‘Mother! I think –

‘Well, then, don’t. I’m quite capable of looking after myself, thank you, Jimbo.’ Turning to Caroline she said, between clenched teeth, ‘
I’m
not digging it up, I only agreed with him that it should be done.’

Jimbo opened his mouth, intending to pour oil on troubled waters, but Caroline put a hand on his arm. ‘No, Jimbo, leave this to me. This village needs dragging into the twenty-first century. There are some things I agree with, but this, however, is beyond belief. What is it, three years you’ve been here perhaps nearly four? Most of the families here this afternoon have lived here for
centuries
. If anyone has a right to agree or disagree it is them and not you. How dare you!’

Muriel’s question, spoken in a small voice, gently cut through the bristling silence which had fallen. ‘What is it we are talking about?’