Village Secrets (12 page)

‘No.’ Willie drew closer. ‘She found Mimi’s collar.’

‘No!’

‘Right close by the bonfire – not in it but near it.’

‘What did Dr Harris say?’

‘Sylvia never told her. Bent down and popped it in ’er pocket and didn’t let on.’

‘Collar, yer say?’

‘Yes.’

‘Funny, that.’

‘Exactly. Then Sylvia got this strange feeling and begged Dr Harris to go home. She felt all shaky. Unfastened it was, the collar, and the buckle quite stiff, so it weren’t no accident it came off. It hadn’t got pulled off while Mimi was climbing a tree or anything; it had been
taken
off. Found the collar but not the cat.’

‘Strange. But ’ow did she know it was Mimi’s collar?’

‘Her collar’s brown to match the markings on her face, and it ’as a little identification thing on it. So she knows.’

‘But she hasn’t told Dr Harris?’

‘Well, she was going to later, like, but she didn’t know how she was going to tell her and she kept putting it off and then one day she found her crying about the cat, and didn’t like to say anything, in case she made matters worse. So I’ve said she’s to tell the rector and see what he thinks.’

‘That’s best. I’ll ’ave a wander round there, see if I find anything. I knows them woods like the back of my ’and.’

‘Thanks, Jimmy. I ’oped yer would. If anyone should know them woods it’ll be you, considering ’ow much poaching yer did in there. But not a word. Dr Harris mustn’t find out from anyone except the rector.’ Willie tapped the side of his nose and Jimmy winked in agreement.

Sykes Wood, eh? He knew just where Willie meant. The charcoal-burners’ cottages had long since disappeared, most of the stones carted away for building other houses years and years ago, but the clearing was still there. Odd that. He’d have a look tomorrow before he went to work.

‘Mummy! Mummy!’ Flick slammed the front door and raced through to the kitchen. ‘Mummy, we’ve been on a walk.’

‘Where to?’

‘Sykes Wood. We’ve been communing with nature.’

Harriet folded up the ironing board and went to the fridge to get Flick her drink. ‘What does one do to commune with nature?’

‘Well, one of the things we did was to hug a tree.’

‘Hug a tree? Whatever next.’

‘It’s all to do with listening to what the tree says to you.’

‘And what did yours say to you? Here’s the biscuit tin. Want one?’

Flick chose a Bourbon and bit a huge piece off it so her mouth was too full to answer. Harriet said, ‘I would have thought that with your exam tomorrow, a bit of hard work would have been more appropriate.’

Flick sipped her milk and then began, ‘Well, Kate said that—’

‘“Kate said”? Ms Pascoe, surely.’

‘She says that as we are in our last year we can call her Kate.’

‘Well, I don’t approve at all.’

‘Get up to speed, Mummy. You’re so old-fashioned. Though Mrs Hardaker did say
she
didn’t like us calling Ms Pascoe Kate, and
she
thought we should be working but Ms Pascoe said “Nonsense” and Mrs Hardaker’s lips went all straight like they do when she gets cross. She said, “Miss Pascoe, I really think—” But Ms Pascoe just tossed her head and said, “Come along, Class Three, away from these four walls out into the world, for another brilliant experience” so we did.’

‘So what did you hear when you hugged your tree?’

‘Well, I didn’t hear anything actually, because there were creepy-crawlies all in the cracks in the bark and I couldn’t concentrate in case they got in my hair.’

‘So you didn’t have a brilliant experience.’

‘No, it was a bit disappointing. Kate says trees scream when they get a branch chopped off or get cut down. She says when the world was young we would have been able to hear them but not now. That’s dreadful, isn’t it? I never thought they could feel hurt. I shall worry now. Shall I go and rest ready for tomorrow?’

Harriet laughed. ‘That’s your way of saying you’ll go and join Fran watching television, is it?’

‘Yes.’

‘Well, it’s not for long. She’s getting square eyes, absolutely hypnotised she is and doesn’t understand one tenth of what she watches, so you must get her to play in a while.’

‘OK.’

Flick came back from the day of examinations exhausted. Harriet had collected her in the car at three o’clock and when she saw how weary Flick looked she began to have reservations about her angry retort to Kate.

‘How did it go? Everything all right?’

‘Mummy, I’m so tired. It was quite exciting though. Two girls burst into tears, another one fainted, and one went out to be sick. The lunch was lovely, and the teachers! They were so kind.’

‘And the exam?’

‘Oh, that. Quite easy, actually.’

Harriet’s heart sank. Quite easy? Oh dear. That could mean she hadn’t understood what was required of her. ‘Well, I’m glad. We’ll just have to wait and see. You won’t have to be too disappointed if you don’t get in. Daddy and I, Grandma Sadie and the boys and Fran will all love you just the same, you know.’

‘I know. Daddy’s already told me that about five times.’

‘Sorry, but it’s true.’

‘I know.’ Flick looked out of the car window. Parents! She knew she would get in. It was where she was destined to be and she couldn’t wait to play lacrosse – such a distinguished game. She’d seen some of the girls going out to the playing-fields from the window of the examination room, and longed to join them. The uniform! Oh, roll on, September! ‘When I get home I shall give Fran a big hug and tell her all about it,’ she declared, ‘then she’ll know for when it’s her turn, and I shall want a cup of tea and a piece of cake.’

‘OK, fine. You can go in the Store and choose a fancy cream one if you like.’

‘Great! Shall I have to pay? I’ve no money on me.’

‘You know Daddy’s rules.’

‘Yes.’ Flick sighed.

Harriet dropped her off outside the Store with a pound coin in her hand.

‘Don’t be long. I’ll put the kettle on.’

Flick decided to wander around the Store for a moment; it seemed a long time since she’d been in there and it was only right she should know what was going on. She’d have to tell Daddy that the greetings card shelves were not quite as full as they could be, and that his new assistant was spending too much time chatting instead of taking the money quickly when there was a queue. People hated waiting. Ms Pascoe came in.

‘Hello, Kate! I had a lovely time at the exam, I’ve just got back. Did you miss me?’

‘Of course I did. Everything all right?’

‘Oh yes, thanks. It’s lovely, I hope I get in.’

‘If that’s what you want, so do I.’

‘I do. I’m buying a cream cake for a treat.’

‘Some fresh fruit would do you more good.’

Flick laughed and tossed her head. ‘But I’m having a cream cake, sorry!’

She lingered by the video-lending shelf and pondered whether or not to ask Mummy if she could borrow one. Being short she couldn’t be seen over the top of the stand and quite by mistake she overheard two women talking. One of them was Kate Pascoe. ‘Ten o’clock. Tonight.’

The other voice said ‘Righteo. We’ll be there.’ Flick slipped quietly to the end of the shelving and peeped round the corner. It was Simone Paradise who had answered.

She bought her cream cake and went home, and told Fran all about the exam, and watched television and fell asleep for a short while dreaming of playing lacrosse wearing that wonderful purple sweater she’d seen on the girls that very afternoon.

‘Harriet! This damned tie won’t behave itself. Help! Rescue me, please, I’m running late.’

‘You never have been able to do these ties. Why don’t you buy one of those made-up ones?’

‘I have bowed to modern technology in all corners of my life but I will not bow to a made-up tie. That is definitely sartorially
verboten
.’

‘OK, OK. There we are. You look good. Much better in that suit now you’ve lost weight.’

‘Thank you – I do, don’t I? More youthful, don’t you know.’

‘Hurry up!’

Flick was reading Fran a bedtime story and she shouted through the bedroom door. ‘Why isn’t Mummy going?’

‘It’s all men tonight, my dear child.’

‘I thought Ms Pascoe and Mrs Paradise were going.’

‘Certainly not, though I mightn’t mind Ms Pascoe, she’s a cracker.’

Harriet, standing in the doorway, said, ‘Why did you think they were going?’

‘I heard them saying they were meeting at ten o’clock. So I thought they must be going where Daddy’s going.’

‘Ten o’clock? You must have misheard. They would have said seven o’clock.’

‘I’m not daft, Mummy.’

Harriet shrugged her shoulders and went in to kiss Fran good night. ‘Good night, my sweetheart.’

Fran lay on her side, snuggled up to the cuddliest teddy bear her grandmother had been able to find. Her long dark lashes fluttered as she began dropping asleep, one hand tucked under a rosy cheek. ‘Ni’, ni’.’

‘Time for your bath, Flick, you must be tired. Thanks for reading the story.’

Jimbo shrugged on his overcoat and gave Harriet a hug. She straightened his silk scarf and kissed his cheek.

‘Have a good time.’

‘I will. Be all right?’

‘Of course. I won’t wait up.’

Harriet stood at the door watching him start up the car and waved as he turned up Stocks Row. As she locked the door the thought crossed her mind, what on earth had Simone Paradise and Kate Pascoe got in common? Not a blind thing as far as she could see.

Harriet had decided to spend the evening while Jimbo was out, going over the accounts on the computer in the study. She’d just switched on and was checking through in her mind which aspect she would take a look at first when she heard the front door being unlocked.

‘Jimbo? Is that you? Hello-o-o?’

‘Only me, darling.’

‘Mother!’ Harriet went into the hall. ‘I didn’t expect you tonight.’

‘Thought I’d keep you company. Where are the boys?’

‘Scouts. Coffee or something stronger?’

‘Stronger. You’d better get one for yourself. You might need it.’

‘Why, what’s the matter?’

‘I need your advice.’

‘
My
advice – since when?’

‘Since last night. I’ll sit down.’

‘Of course. Whisky?’

‘And water.’

They sat in the study, Harriet patiently waiting to hear what she was supposed to be advising about.

Sadie swirled the whisky glass round and round in her hand. She was elegantly dressed as always, her long slim legs in fine nylon tights and smart high-heeled shoes, her outfit a straight black skirt, silver-grey long-sleeved silk shirt, and a scarf loosely tied around her throat. Harriet admired her as she sat deep in thought sipping her whisky. ‘Well, I’m waiting?’

‘I’m thinking of getting married.’

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘Like I said, I’m thinking of getting married.’

‘To whom?’

‘Craddock Fitch.’

Harriet was stunned. She couldn’t believe she’d heard correctly. ‘You? Marriage to Craddock Fitch? Are you pulling my leg?’

‘As if I would. He’s asked me and I’m almost ready to say yes.’

‘I see. Well, you did know him when he was a strip of a lad. I was aware you were seeing a lot of him, but
marriage
… Are you sure?’

‘Are you asking that as a fully mature adult or as a child of mine?’

‘Ah! At times like this the two are very mixed. It’s difficult to know which I am at the moment.’

‘Exactly. I don’t know which I am, either. Am I a grown woman and a grandmother – heaven help us! – or have I gone back to being a seventeen-year-old like I was when I first refused him. Maybe I’ve taken leave of my senses.’

‘Why
did
you refuse him?’

‘I’ve always been independent right from the cradle, and some sixth sense told me that being married to Craddock – well, Henry as he was then – would be suffocating. He would have expected complete loyalty, complete absorption in his business affairs, because it was obvious even then that he was going to be a businessman, and I baulked at the idea of being so completely taken over. I engineered a row and that was that. He hated the idea that anyone owned him, you see, so I deliberately said something, whatever it was I can’t remember exactly, to annoy him and he blew his top.’

‘And now?’

‘Now he’s different. He respects me, which he didn’t before. I can answer back without him freezing me out with his stony silences. We can discuss and argue and he listens to my opinion. And what’s more, I still find him fascinating. He’s not the chilly person he appears to be. Oh no! He wants to be a warm loving man, and he’s trying very hard.’

‘Look, Mother, if you love him, for heaven’s sake marry the man. Whyever not?’