Village Secrets (25 page)

‘Would Rhett talk to me?’

Vera fidgeted with her glass for a moment and then said, ‘Well, I don’t rightly know. He can be a bit odd if yer try to talk to him about it. Shuts up, like.’

‘I can be very persuasive. Is he in now?’

‘Well, yes, he is. Don’s at work and I just came across for an hour.’

‘Drink up and we’ll go across together, but you’ll have to leave us to talk. He probably wouldn’t open up if his grandmother was there.’

Vera eyed him speculatively. ‘Are you thinking he can throw some light on this trouble at the school?’

‘Yes, I am.’

‘He didn’t do it, Sir Ralph. It really wasn’t him, he’s not like that.’

‘Not for one moment was I thinking on those lines. No, no, not at all. I simply want to talk to him about his experiences. Now, will you let me?’ He smiled that famous Templeton smile, the one Muriel always found so irresistible, and it worked the same magic on Vera.

‘Well, of course. Yes, of course.’ Rapidly she ran through in her mind just how tidy she had left her living room. She hadn’t expected to be taking aristocracy home with her when she’d set out.

‘Finished then? No time like the present.’

‘Oh yes, of course, yes.’ She got up to go. Vera gave Pat a nervous smile and went ahead of Ralph who had stood waiting for her to go in front of him. He held open the door for her and she scuttled out.

As Vera put her key in the latch they heard footsteps behind them and, while she struggled with the door which was stiff after the rain, she heard Ralph saying, ‘Oh good evening, Peter.’ And there he was, dressed in jeans and a thick bright pullover.

‘Ah! Good evening. I’ve come hoping to see Rhett. I didn’t know you had company, Vera. I’ll come another evening, shall I?’

Ralph asked Vera if she would mind being invaded by not one but two visitors. Vera swallowed hard. ‘No, not at all. That’s quite all right, I’ll go in the kitchen and keep out of the way. Rhett’s in ’ere.’

He was laid full-length on the sofa watching television, his boots resting on one arm, his hands behind his head on the other, an empty beer can lay on its side on a table by his elbow. Vera said loudly, ‘Our Rhett, you’ve got visitors.’ Ralph blinked when he saw the picture on the screen. Rhett shot into a sitting position; his finger went straight on the video remote control and the screen went blank, for which Ralph was grateful. Never in all his days …

But Peter was speaking. ‘Quite by chance, Rhett, you’ve got two visitors and I have an idea we’re both here on the same errand. Would you have some time to spare to talk to us?’

By this time Rhett was on his feet. ‘Yes, yes of course.’

Without waiting to be asked Ralph chose a chair and sat in it. Peter went to sit on the sofa and Rhett stood on the hearth-rug.

‘As you were the first on the doorstep, Ralph, would you like to begin?’

‘Very well. I know this is a very delicate subject for you, Rhett, and you’ve been quite ill with the worry of it all, but it’s reached a time when we’ve got to talk. By the way, I should have asked you first how’s the job going.’

‘All right, thanks. I like working with Mr Stubbs. He’s good. Says I can go on a day-release course at the horticultural college if I show I’m taking an interest.’

‘And are you?’

‘What?’

‘Taking an interest.’

‘Oh yes. It’s great. Can’t wait to get going in them greenhouses. You should see what Mr Stubbs grows in there.’

‘I know, it’s quite wonderful, isn’t it?’

‘Yes, it is. Them greenhouses is over a hundred and fifty years old. Growing grapes for one hundred and fifty years – can you imagine that?’

‘Well, yes I can.’

Rhett flushed and looked embarrassed. ‘Oh, of course. I’d forgotten.’

‘That’s all right. Let’s get down to business. Now you’re feeling so much better, can you tell us why it was you were so frightened by seeing this dog Jimmy’s adopted?’

Rhett’s hand went inside the neck of his shirt and out came the cross his grandma had bought; he wrapped his fingers tightly around it. He looked at Peter, then back to Ralph. He stared at the floor, he gazed at the blank screen and then eventually muttered, ‘I thought I’d seen a ghost.’

‘There was more to it than that, wasn’t there?’

Rhett stared at Ralph. ‘The devil. I could see the devil in him.’

‘He’s a harmless, bright little dog. Got lost and happened by pure chance to turn up here.’

‘Not chance.’

‘No?’

Peter said, ‘If it wasn’t chance, then what was it?’

Rhett hesitated and then gazing anywhere but at the two of them, he said, ‘He’d been called up.’

Ralph, making military connections with the words Rhett had used, was puzzled. ‘Called up?’

‘By …’

Peter prompted him. ‘Yes?’

‘The devil.’

Wishing to clarify things and move the story on, Peter said, ‘You believe Sykes was brought back to life by the devil?’

Rhett nodded. ‘We was in the wood doing these incantation things and … they said they knew Sykes was buried there and we’d practise on him. Prove just how powerful we were. Like an experiment what wouldn’t harm nobody and we’d see if we could do it.’ Rhett had difficulty continuing. He took in a deep breath and started again. ‘Course, I thought it was daft but then it seemed to get serious and what with the dark and the fire and the candles and that, and all these strange words and them speaking like being in church kind of – I began to believe we could do it. Then next morning in daylight-like, I thought how daft can you get? He’s dead and buried like, isn’t he? Dead as a doornail. Then I saw him in Jimmy’s garden and …’ Rhett shuddered at the thought of that terrible encounter.

Peter, looking straight into Rhett’s eyes, said, ‘You mean you really believe this new Sykes
is
the old Sykes?’

‘Well, I did at the time. Absolutely convinced, I was. Now I’m not so sure – not after I’d talked to you. But it does make yer think, doesn’t it?’

Peter reassured him. ‘Well, it isn’t the real Sykes, I can assure you of that. You mention other people. Who leads this “meeting”? We need to know.’

Rhett shut up like a clam.

Ralph tried another tack. ‘After you’d been taken ill I went to investigate for myself and I saw five people in the wood, with the altar and the black candles, but they all ran away before I could identify them. Who were they?’

Rhett began pacing up and down the room. Finally, he appeared to come to a decision and stood in front of Peter. ‘I won’t give any names,’ he blurted out. ‘Definitely daren’t give names. I’ve never been again, not since that night. I was too scared of what we were doing.’

Peter said, ‘You weren’t successful, though it must have looked like that to you at the time. It was coincidence that the dog turned up when he did.’

‘Are you sure? Just a great big coincidence?’

‘I’m sure.’

‘Thank God for that. Beg yer pardon, Rector.’

‘No need to beg my pardon, I’m glad you’ve got it sorted out once and for all. Thank you for telling us that, Rhett. All this damage at the school is connected with it, too. It’s got to be stopped.’ As an afterthought he asked, ‘You’re not being threatened, are you?’

‘No, not really.’

‘I want you to know that if you need help, you can ring me or come to see me at the rectory any time, day or night. We can’t have people like you and the sergeant’s wife,’ Rhett looked uncomfortable and cast shitty glances at Ralph and Peter, ‘scared out of their wits. These things can escalate and cause terrible trouble, which indeed they already have. If you feel one day that you are able to name names to me or to Sir Ralph, your information will be treated in the strictest confidence. We shall never and I mean
never
divulge who told us. You’re not a fool, Rhett, you’ve a good job with prospects and you can’t let wicked, evil people ruin your life. I forbid it. So you and I together will conquer this. Right?’

Rhett looked pleased that he had an ally. ‘Yes, sir. Right.’

‘I must know who else is involved. If you can’t speak the unspeakable then put a note through my letterbox. I shan’t know who’s put it there, shall I, when you haven’t signed it?’

Rhett managed a slight smile. ‘I’m not going any more. I daren’t. But I might write that note.’

Ralph stood up. ‘I won’t have the life of this village torn apart. People can’t look each other in the eye any longer. It’s never been like that before. You and the rector and I shall put a stop to it.’ Ralph changed the tone of his voice. ‘By the way, I see you’re down for the cricket team, Rhett. Delighted. We need young chaps like you, and with all that hard work up at the Big House you’ll be building good muscle. We’ll make a batsman out of you yet!’

‘Bowling’s my thing.’ He imitated a bowling action and Ralph was impressed.

‘By jove! Very good. Yes. Mr Fitch is providing us with practice nets and I shall be interested to see how you develop. We’ll be off now.’

Peter said as he left, ‘Good night, Rhett.’ He shook Rhett’s hand and smiled encouragingly. ‘Thank you for all your help. You’re a grand chap with a lot going for you. Remember, I’m on your side in this. God bless you. Sleep well.’

Ralph and Peter crossed the road together and stood talking in the light of the lamp above Ralph’s door. ‘So now we know why the sergeant’s wife has gone so peculiar. She was obviously there that night too. That’s two names anyway.’

Ralph nodded. ‘Let’s hope he takes the hint and gives us the other names.’

‘He’s been dreadfully frightened. The shock of seeing the dog! No wonder he went berserk.’

‘Is there any wonder that he snatched at some kind of excitement? Things aren’t what they were when I was a boy, are they? I feel sorry for teenagers nowadays. When they’re too young to have their own transport what on earth do they do every night stuck here?’

‘Watch appalling videos?’ Peter asked.

Ralph groaned. ‘My goodness me. No wonder his mind worked overtime, no wonder at all. Any more ideas yourself about who’s involved?’

‘Might have. Good night.’

The forty-eight hours were up and Peter had heard nothing from Kate, so when he took the twins to playgroup he made his way to Kate’s little office and tapped on the door.

‘No good knocking there, Rector. Ms Pascoe’s not in this morning. She’s in bed with a sore throat. We’ve a supply teacher coming any minute.’ Pat folded the duster she’d been using to get the early-morning dust from the piano keys and shook her head. ‘Oh yes, sore throat it is. She sounded really ill – could hardly speak. I’ve offered to go in and get her anything she needs but she said no, thanks.’

‘Oh dear, I am sorry.’

‘Hopes to be back in tomorrow, though I can’t see that, ’cos she sounded so dreadful. Didn’t seem quite right in the head, yer know. Her mind was wandering, kind of. If it’s urgent you could pop a note through her door. I know where she keeps her scrap paper.’

‘It’s not urgent, it can wait. Only six weeks to go to your wedding, Pat. Got everything organised?’

‘We have. We’ve not invited loads of guests, only from Barry’s side. Dad and me’s not got many relatives. I’m glad you and Dr Harris and the twins have accepted. Jimbo’s doing the food, so we know that’ll be good.’

‘Barry got the honeymoon arranged? He seemed very secretive about it when I spoke to him last.’

‘All I know is, it involves an aeroplane and hot weather and I’ve to pack a swimsuit and some suntan lotion and I’ve to have smart dresses for the evening. That’s why we’ve had such a long engagement – well, ten months – he’s been saving up for it. Says he wants the honeymoon of a lifetime as he won’t be going on another.’

Peter was about to relate to her the story of his own honeymoon when Hetty Hardaker brought her class in ready for prayers. Pat dashed off towards the kitchen.

‘Mrs Hardaker, would you like me to take prayers as Ms Pascoe is ill?’ Peter offered.

‘I would indeed, Rector, that would be a help. I’ll leave it to you and Miss Booth then, if I may.’

When prayers were finished, Peter went to stand in the school playground and look at the school-house. The bedroom curtains were drawn, and there were no signs of life at all, apart from the living-room windowsill where Cat lay sleeping.

As he set off back to the rectory he glanced towards the Store, and by chance sitting outside on the seat so thoughtfully provided by Jimbo, was someone with whom he wanted to have a word.

‘Good morning, Ellie.’

The sergeant’s wife looked up, startled, her lacklustre brown eyes showing no recognition. Her hair, never more than an orderly bird’s nest, was now quite awry, and her face, paler than ever, gave the impression the blood had been drained out of her. Her squashy nose sat like a lump of blanched dough on her face. Ellie could never have claimed to dress in the height of fashion, and she certainly wasn’t dressed in it now. Her coat was buttoned up wrongly, leaving the top edge on one side rubbing against her chin. Her tights were wrinkled, her shoes grubby and she had odd gloves on.

So that his height did not intimidate her, Peter sat down on the seat. It held four comfortably so he didn’t overcrowd her.