Village Fortunes (Turnham Malpas 17) (29 page)

BOOK: Village Fortunes (Turnham Malpas 17)
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‘Not at all. You only said what you thought was fitting.’

‘You speak like a gentleman. That’s very kind of you. Thank you. You have so much going for you, you know. You’re a very impressive, good-looking man, wealthy way beyond normal mortals, but you do need a touch of your brother’s graciousness. Then, believe me, you would be perfect. This idea you have of getting whatever you want as some kind of right, well, that side of you needs curbing. Then, believe me, you’d be terrific. If I were many years younger I’d marry you myself.’ Grandmama burst into laughter and so did Chris. The two of them propped each other up while they laughed, and Harriet rejoiced at the sight.

She kept her eyes on them as Chris guided Grandmama towards the free bar and watched them toast each other with their glasses, still smiling broadly. Then Grandmama reached up to kiss his cheek; she patted his arm and left him with a big grin on her face. She walked straight towards Harriet and as she reached her she said, ‘Lovely man, really, you know, he just needs to grow up. Great crowd here tonight, although I can’t decide if I can last out till the fireworks, though I do love them. Always have.’

‘Well, I’ve been on my feet all day, so shall we both sit down for a while to recover?’

‘What a good idea. Over there, look, just two chairs in that corner and then no one will join us; and we can gossip together about all the guests. I love a good gossip. Did the wedding go well today, by the way?’

‘Yes, we did have a hitch though. The bridegroom’s parents’ car broke down on that horrendous roundabout with all the traffic signs that caused all the confusion they were put up to avoid; and they couldn’t explain exactly where they were so Jimbo had to go out and rescue them seeing as he knows that roundabout like the back of his hand. They were in a terrible state by the time he got them to the church.’

‘Was that all?’

‘It was enough, believe me. Other than that it was a success, and the bride looked beautiful, the groom even more so, and the three tiny girls they had as bridesmaids tried hard to be good. Oh, look, there’s Craddock Fitch with his family. They do look nice. Have you met them?’

‘No. Have you?’

‘Briefly. They came into the store the other day. When they’ve got their drinks we’ll go across. Craddock looks delighted with himself. I suppose when you have no family it must be very lonely, but now he has, good for him.’

‘Harriet. You never have a good word to say for him; what’s changed?’

‘Him. He’s much more kindly. I don’t know if it’s losing all his money or getting a family, but whichever it is, he’s so much nicer to know. Kinder, you know. More approachable.’

They sat together alternately criticising the guests and praising them as they saw fit because, as Harriet remarked, that’s what living in a village is all about. Then they watched as Chris made a valiant but discreet attempt to avoid Peter and Caroline. He’d been speaking to someone Johnny had invited who was a complete unknown as far as the village was concerned, and he was turning away to escape when Harriet and Grandmama saw Chris swerve to avoid walking straight into Peter and Caroline as they moved towards the bar.

Chris promptly headed for Harriet and Grandmama as though they were his target.

‘Hello, Chris, enjoying yourself?’ Harriet asked for want of something to say.

‘Yes, thank you, I didn’t think I would, but I am. You ladies look as though you could do with a refill. Can I get you something more to drink?’

Harriet held out her empty glass. ‘Yes, please. A G and T for me, and a whisky for my mother-in-law.’

Unfortunately for Chris, Peter and Caroline headed their way. Chris rapidly moved off towards the bar, leaving the four others to talk.

They chatted generally about the evening, with Grandmama casually saying in the midst of their chat, ‘Chris moved off quickly just now. Have you had a fall out?’ She looked at Peter rather pointedly so he felt compelled to answer. ‘He came to see me to talk about something, and I think maybe I was too outspoken.’

Grandmama chuckled. ‘That’s how he is, outspoken, and he doesn’t care who knows it. You did right, Peter, to be forthright. He needs it.’

‘I only spoke the truth.’

‘Of course you did, as only you can.’ Grandmama grinned up at him and the two of them agreed without another word that Peter was right to speak his mind. ‘I’m glad he’s going back to Brazil tomorrow. Best place for him.’

‘Fran OK, is she now?’ Caroline asked.

There was a slight hesitation before Harriet replied. ‘Yes, thank you. She is. Much improved.’

‘Good, I’m glad.’

They talked for a while until Grandmama decided she would go outside and get a good position from which to watch the fireworks. ‘Coming, Harriet?’

‘Of course.’

Caroline and Peter watched them push their way through Johnny’s many guests enjoying their free drinks. Caroline said, ‘I’m going to watch, you are too, surely?’

‘I am. Ah. Here comes Chris.’

‘Are the two of you not speaking?”

‘I don’t know. Let’s see.’

Chris felt foolish for once in his life and decided to offer the drinks to Caroline and Peter. ‘I’m too late,’ said Chris, ‘obviously they’ve gone outside. Ah, well. Drink anyone?’

‘I’ll have the G and T, thank you,’ said Caroline.

‘I’ll drink the whisky. Thanks.’

The drinks were on a small tray and alongside them was a large glass of ale for Chris. ‘Good. I don’t like drinking alone.’ But before Chris had a chance to drink from his glass the cry went up from Johnny. ‘Fireworks! Don’t miss the show! Come along everyone! Firework show. Outside. Chop, chop. Enjoy!’ Johnny led the way out through the front door. His guests streamed across the gravel past the bonfire which by now was a large heap of wood smoking and smouldering away into nothingness, and joined the others patiently waiting for the first rocket to go up. Jimbo had always begun the fireworks with a single stupendous rocket that went up and up into the night sky, but tonight the show began with
six
rockets going up: two red, two blue and two silver. They went up and up, and everyone was watching them going higher and higher till they couldn’t tilt their heads any further back. Suddenly they all exploded in a shower of lights.

The whole show was lavish beyond everyone’s imaginings, and after ten minutes it finally concluded with six enormous Catherine wheels spinning and spinning as though they would never stop. But eventually they did, and then the cheers of appreciation filled the sky.

‘My word! What a show!’ Jimbo felt envious. He’d thought the shows he’d put on were brilliant, but this . . . well . . . it had exceeded anything he’d ever attempted.

Harriet nudged him. ‘That must have cost a fortune, and I mean a
fortune
.’

Peter, standing close behind them, agreed. ‘That is real money, that is.’

‘Exactly. I knew they were rich, but . . .’ Caroline was lost for words.

‘Best ever,’ said Dottie. ‘Best ever.’ And she knew as she said it that Johnny Templeton was absolutely loaded with money to have afforded the show she’d just watched.

From the youngest to the oldest, everyone there clapped long and loud to show their appreciation. Jimbo decided to ask for three cheers for Johnny. He climbed up on the low wall beside him and called for three cheers, which were willingly and loudly given. What an ending to a wonderful night, they all thought!

Fran was still keeping Alex company, and she thought that she had never spent a whole evening with someone she found so compatible. They were equals in a way she never had been with Chris, but at the same time her heart lurched a little at the thought of Chris. But Alex insisted on seeing her back home, and as he’d never met Bonnie Fran decided to invite him in to meet her.

So, when Jimbo and Harriet arrived home, they found the two of them playing with Bonnie as though they were children and not both in their twenties. It felt an awful lot better than when they’d had Chris for lunch that Sunday.

Craddock Fitch took all his new family back home. The children were exhausted. Ross in particular, being the youngest, was already fast asleep in his father’s arms. Craddock had walked home hand in hand with the other two boys, enjoying their comments on the fireworks and the size of the bonfire, and how high the rockets had gone. He remembered the days when he’d financed it all and he realised that Johnny was in a very different league to himself, even when he was at the height of his success. Craddock squeezed the boys’ hands and was grateful that instead of money he had grandchildren.

‘Grandad! Are you tired?’ asked Judd.

‘I am indeed. Are you?’

Judd nodded. ‘I am. It was the best night ever though. Can we come next year?’

‘Definitely.’

Judd squeezed his Grandad’s hand and replied, ‘Good. Here we are, home at last.’

Craddock’s heart swelled with joy.

When the children were all tucked up in their makeshift beds the grown-ups sat in front of a roaring fire with drinks and slices of sumptuous chocolate cake before they went to bed; and Craddock might have felt thrilled when Judd asked if they could come next year to the Bonfire Night celebrations, but it was nothing to how he felt when Graham broke his own news out of the hearing of the children.

‘We haven’t told the children yet until we feel convinced we’re doing the right thing, but,’ he took a deep breath, ‘we are hoping to come to live right here in the village.’

Craddock thought he must be tired because obviously he’d misheard what Graham had said.

‘We decided that our children are missing out not living in a village, and as this village has a good school . . .’ Graham nodded and smiled briefly at Kate. ‘And there is a big hospital in Culworth where eventually Anita may find work, and there’s a general practice in Culworth that I’ve been in touch with and there’s a strong possibility there’ll be a job available in another month or two. But mainly it’s because of our quality of life. Where we live we hardly dare let the children out on their own, whereas here they’d be safe if they wanted to go to that vastly superior playground they never stop talking about and . . .’

Delighted though Craddock was at Graham’s news, he couldn’t see how it would work out. ‘But you’d need a big house, having all the children to accommodate and there’s none for sale that would be big enough. Thatched roofs and roses round the door almost always mean small rooms and even smaller bedrooms.’

‘Well, yes, but you know Nightingale Farm? Well, the family have in fact put their farmhouse on the market so . . .’

Craddock strongly protested. ‘You can’t. No. No. You’re not a farmer, you’re a doctor, surely. That’s what you want to do, not farming. There’s no money in it, and with all these children to feed and clothe . . .’

‘I know, I know, we’re not going to be farming, believe me. That’s why the Nightingales are leaving as they just can’t make money being dairy farmers nowadays. All their children except the youngest one have left school and are working or at university, and so they are down-sizing. They’ve already sold most of their land to a farmer nearby, and when I got the brochure from the estate agent both Anita and I fell in love with the farmhouse. We haven’t been to see it yet, but fingers crossed we shall be living at Nightingale Farm in a few months.’

Graham smiled triumphantly at Craddock and Kate, and she couldn’t stop herself hugging Anita and kissing Graham’s cheek and patting his shoulder. ‘That’s wonderful news, you’ve no idea how delighted we are.’

Graham added very firmly, ‘We don’t need to live in each other’s pockets, and we’re not anticipating the children making nuisances of themselves coming over to see you on some flimsy excuse or another. It’s just that we love the idea of a country life for the family, and this seemed to be the most sensible direction to go. Michael, of course, isn’t coming, but maybe he’ll be a regular visitor.’

‘Good,’ said Craddock, more delighted now than he could possibly find words to explain. ‘Good. I’m delighted. We are, aren’t we, Kate?’

‘Of course we are, absolutely delighted. So I’ll have three new children in school, perhaps as early as Easter. Gemma, Judd, and Max. Sarah will need to go by bus into Culworth to the secondary school, and little Ross can go to the nursery class we have for the under-fives. Another drink to toast this wonderful new venture of yours?’

That night everyone in the village went to bed weary but elated by the wonderful celebration the entire village had enjoyed. Contentment was rife, and a good night’s sleep was had by all.

It felt like the good old days for everyone, which they all put down to having the rightful person sleeping under the roof of Turnham House, with two small boys to carry on the Templeton name when the time came.

The contentment was especially rich in the house where Grandad and Granny Fitch slept along with their new found family. For the very first time the attic had been put to use and it felt deeply pleasurable to have the house filled to capacity with them all.

Fran Charter-Plackett slept deeply too, having spent a long evening with someone as kind and friendly as Alex Harris, who allowed her to be herself and have opinions, and did not make demands on her.

 

On November
21
st the following paragraph appeared in a major United Kingdom newspaper
.

 

A private jet owned by the Brazilian-based Templeton Hotel Group has gone missing over the Amazon jungle. It is three days since the pilot, Christopher Templeton, a director of the company, has been in contact. He took off from their company aerodrome intending to take an extended excursion lasting at least a week. He was accompanied by Patrick McAllen, navigator, and an aeronautical engineer understood to be named Brett Stansfield. All three men are experienced fliers. His brother Sir Jonathan Templeton has flown from England to assist in the search.

Rebecca Shaw is a former school teacher and the bestselling author of many novels. She lives with her husband in a beautiful Dorset village where she finds plenty of inspiration for her stories about rural life. She has four children and eight grandchildren. Visit her website at
www.rebeccashaw.co.uk
.

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