Whispers in the Village (7 page)

‘We couldn’t have
two
sponsored events, now could we?’

‘Why ever not? What about a pyjama party at Jimbo’s house? Or at the Big House. Ten pounds a nob. I bet Kate Pascoe-that-was would go for that.’

‘Better still, how about the naked swim at the Big House as well? Lovely big pool there.’

‘Oh no. Definitely not. In the dark in Jimbo’s garden, yes, but not that great pool.’

‘You could be right. More mystical and attractive. At least the dark would hide the blushes. That could be really wild. How about it, Harriet? We’d get the youngsters to that.’

Harriet thought for a moment and reminded them that the funds were for helping a church not a gambling saloon.

‘Gambling! Now that’s an idea. What could we gamble on?’

Angie Turner shouted, ‘I know! Guess the date when Gilbert and Louise announce they’re expecting again. It’s about time there was another announcement, they’re running late.’ A scandalized silence met this comment, and no one dared to look at Sheila, because they knew, definitely knew, she’d be scarlet all over.

Harriet intervened before Sheila got a chance to lose her temper. ‘I don’t think that is quite the kind of thing Peter would approve of.’

‘Peter isn’t here and it’s money for his church and he won’t be any wiser, will he, all those thousands of miles away?’ said Angie Turner.

‘It’s not the gambling, it’s what you’re gambling on; it has to be in good taste,’ Harriet remarked. ‘How about gambling on the French Prix de L’Arc de Triomphe … That’s in October, isn’t it?’

Angie Turner, her mind working furiously, asked, ‘You mean gamble, like in real gambling?’

Harriet nodded. ‘I haven’t thought out how it would work but something could be organized, couldn’t it? Just think, we might win thousands.’

Angie said, ‘My Colin’s good at betting on horses. He studies form by the hour. The bookmakers always come off worst; we’d never manage on his wages if he didn’t.’

‘We don’t need to settle on just one thing. We could do several.’

‘Penny Fawcett and Little Derehams will be so jealous. I’d love that. They’re so dull and boring, they never do anything out of the ordinary.’

General conversation started in which they recalled times when Turnham Malpas had scandalized the other two villages with one incident after another. Most of the stories began with ‘remember that time when …’

Sheila had to call them to order. ‘Thank you, ladies. Thank you. We must press on. I suggest Harriet looks into the possibility of a naked swim, Angie is in charge of the gambling, and we’ll ask Rhett Wright and Dean Jones to organize the pyjama party, because that sounds like a youth thing and they’d be better at attracting young people. Greta, would you investigate the possibility of a hair-dyeing competition? Two pounds to enter and a cash prize for the most weird colour, or most flattering, or most outrageous, whatever. We mustn’t undercharge. One pound is nothing nowadays. Then they’ve to get sponsorship. Anyone who wants to hold a coffee morning or something, please do, but report to me what you’ve planned. All agreed?’

Everyone agreed. They hadn’t had a unanimous vote since anyone could remember. This surely must be a milestone in the annals of the Turnham Malpas W.I.

‘Well, I never.’

‘Would you believe it! Unanimous.’

It took a while for the enormity of what they had decided to sink in.

Harriet suggested they needed a name for the fund. ‘What’s the name of the village Peter’s at?’

‘It’s unpronounceable, lots of m’s and n’s next to each other,’ said Sheila, ‘but the church is called the New Hope Mission. We could call it the New Hope Mission Fund. Or the New Hope Fund.’

‘I think the New Hope Fund is more slick. And we are hoping to give them new hope, aren’t we?’ This from Harriet who specialized in smart, easily remembered slogans for the Store.

The vote for New Hope Fund was also unanimous.

Then Sheila asked for a volunteer to do the publicity.

Not a single hand went up.

‘Very well. I’ll think about that. I suggest posters and flyers with the same artwork but advertising the different events. We’ll reconvene next week, same place, same time. OK? Thanks and goodnight.’

Sheila arrived home shattered. Firstly because Louise and Gilbert had been mocked just as she knew they would be, given time, and she’d died a thousand deaths with a flushed face and a fast, beating heart. Thankfully no one had taken up the idea. Secondly she’d presided over a meeting that had never been equalled for the dozens of ideas they’d come up with and for sheer audacity.

‘Ron! I need a gin and tonic. Don’t ask why, just get it.’ She flung her bag on the floor and fell in a heap on the sofa. The gin and tonic went down in one gulp, and she held out the glass for a refill.

‘What the blazes has happened at the meeting? Have you resigned?’

Sheila sat up. ‘Resigned? Of course not. Anybody would think I’m always resigning. I’ve just attended the most … the most … most …’

‘Yes? Go on.’

‘The most audacious W.I. meeting ever.’

‘Audacious? What d’yer mean?’

‘We’ve decided to raise money for Peter’s church in Africa.’

Feeling thoroughly let down, Ron said, ‘Oh! Is that all?’

‘All? You should have been there.’ The second gin went down a treat, and she asked for a third.

‘No. That’s enough. You’ll be giggling soon, and you know I don’t like that.’

Sheila began to laugh and couldn’t stop. Tears of laughter ran down her face. ‘Oh, Ron! We’ll never live it down.’ She dabbed her eyes, pulled herself together and said, ‘Listen to this. A sponsored midnight
naked swim
in Jimbo’s pool. I think we’ll call that a sponsored midnight skinny-dipping. That’s right. Yes. That’s it. Skinny dipping, that’s the buzz word of the moment for it. Then we’re having a sponsored hair-dyeing competition, the most outrageous colours they can think of. A pyjama party at Harriet’s for the teens and twenties, though Jimbo doesn’t know yet and he might say no. A gamble on the race in Paris, you know the whatever it is … L’Arc de something …’

Ron couldn’t believe he was hearing correctly. Had they had a drunken orgy at the meeting or had they started smoking pot? He was flabbergasted. ‘What will they think at county headquarters?’

Sheila had begun laughing again, but she managed to say between gasps, ‘They’ll be hopping mad they never thought of it first. That’s what.’

Ron woke in the night to hear Sheila still laughing. He grumbled at having his sleep disturbed. ‘I bet if Peter were still here you wouldn’t have gone along with this. He wouldn’t like it at all.’

She sobered up. ‘No, he wouldn’t. I know that. But I’m determined. We’ve got to raise money for this church of his. I can’t bear to think of him not able to do things because there’s no money. It’s going to be brilliant!’

‘Did Grandmama Charter-Plackett agree?’

‘Well, she couldn’t be there, could she, because of that dreadful cold she’s got.’

‘You wait till she hears what you’ve planned. There’ll be hell to pay.’

Sheila got a nasty feeling right at the pit of her stomach. He was right. What would she say? Hard cheese, they always did things by majority voting, so she’d be the only objector.

The shopping bus into Culworth on Saturdays was well worth catching if you wanted to hear the latest gossip. And the Saturday morning after the Friday evening W.I. meeting lived up to its reputation.

They’d begun by learning of the midnight skinny-dipping.

‘Who’s going to swim naked, midnight or not? Not me for one.’

‘You’ll get no one volunteering.’

‘Won’t we just. There’s me for a start,’ said Greta Jones defiantly.

A roar of laughter went up.

Maggie Dobbs from the school shouted, ‘Well, I’m safe because I’m not a member of the W.I.’

‘That doesn’t matter. It’s for everyone.’

Maggie shrunk into herself when she heard that.

‘You’d have to lose some weight, Maggie, before you dared.’

‘Less of your cheek, I’m not that fat.’

‘I’d sponsor you if you’d do it.’

‘You’re on.’ Maggie secretly agreed to herself that she’d volunteer as an incentive to lose weight. She squeezed the fat on her upper arms and thought, yes, this is it. What better incentive than swimming naked? In public?

A great hoot of laughter ran the length of the bus.

‘Look at yourself in the mirror tonight in that posh bathroom of yours. See what you think then.’

A lot of sniggering went on and the conversation became general until Angie Turner got them back on track by saying she was also thinking of putting her name down for the sponsored swim.

‘You’d be all right. Them kids of yours keeps you thin.’

Angie declared to one and all, ‘I reckon there should be a test before yer put yer name down. Stand in front of a mirror naked for two minutes and if you can still stand the sight of yourself you can put yer name down.’

‘You would think of something like that. It doesn’t matter what yer look like so long as yer brave enough to do it. Just imagine old Jimmy Glover doing it. That’d be a sight for sore eyes.’

‘Or Sheila Bisset.’

‘What about Ronald Bisset?’

Another burst of laughter greeted this suggestion. ‘The pool’ud empty when he jumped in.’

‘Still, doing it in the dark would make it sort of kinder, wouldn’t it? Not the impact of broad daylight.’

‘I’d give a lot to see Gilbert Johns in the nuddy. Cor, that’d be good.’

‘Oh, yes! Three cheers for Gilbert.’

Three lusty cheers went up, followed by speculation as to who would cut the best figure among the men.

Thinking things were getting out of hand, if not downright rude, Greta Jones called out, ‘There’s a hair-dyeing competition, too. I’m dyeing mine scarlet. Always wanted red hair.’

Before they knew it the bus was pulling up in the Culworth bus station and they all had to dismount. The sophisticated inhabitants of Culworth were surprised by the passengers alighting from it, every single one of whom was grinning like a Cheshire Cat. Honestly, what were those yokels from the villages up to now?

The news of the outrageous decisions made at the meeting was out. There was even a piece in the
Culworth Gazette
, though who’d leaked it to them was anybody’s guess. (Sheila had her suspicions.)

When Anna heard, her heart sank. Before she’d taken time to weigh up her feelings and come to a balanced decision, she went round to see Sheila.

Slightly out of breath, she knocked on the door and then rang the chime bell. Before it had finished peeling, the door had opened and Sheila was standing there, dressed to kill at that time in the morning.

‘Why, Anna! Do come in.’

Anna soon found herself sitting in a room that was decorated and furnished like a house in a country style magazine. This tickled her to death, but not enough to override her anger about the W.I. schemes.

‘How can I help?’

‘Frankly, I am appalled by the fundraising ideas that I’ve been hearing about. Thought I’d come to the fountain head. Is it all true?’

Sheila nodded.

‘When I said the church would be glad to join forces with the W.I., I hadn’t any idea it would mean naked swims and pyjama parties. How on earth did it come about?’

‘Because someone suggested the ideas and we all agreed.’

‘Unanimously?’

‘Oh yes. For once. Never been known before.’

‘Well, I’m not too sure I can allow it.’

‘You’re not too sure you can allow it? What do you mean?’

‘I don’t think it’s suitable for a church activity.’

‘Now look here,’ Sheila couldn’t bear the thought of their magnificent ideas being squashed at birth. In fact she wasn’t going to allow it. ‘None of these activities is being held on church premises so there’s no need for you to approve or disapprove. For once in our lives we’re being completely outrageous and, believe you me, those people Peter’s looking after are going to gain so much from all our efforts that I won’t let anyone stand in our way.’ Sheila stood up to intimate that the discussion was concluded.

Anna stood up, too, her eyes on a level with Sheila’s. ‘I shall do my utmost to stop this ridiculous idea.’

‘And there was I thinking that you were a bright, up-to-the-minute person who would fall in with our plans without batting an eyelid. Obviously I’m very wrong. If you’d been a dried-up old faggot I could understand it, but someone your age, well really! All it is is fun. Fun, in capital letters. It won’t be rude, not anywhere near it. Just good fun.’

‘Well, I’m sorry but I shall do my utmost to put a stop to it. It’s simply not suitable. I’m going now for a word with Jimbo, as all the events appear to be taking place on his home ground. It’s not personal, Sheila, don’t take it that way, please, but I … however, I’ll go and see him right now.’

Sheila raged about the house after Anna had left. The cat came in for a good slap when she found her in the kitchen sink and poor Tootles fled into the garden to find that warm place in the sun behind the lupins where she wouldn’t be disturbed. Sheila no longer had a dog so she couldn’t storm out to take him for a walk and let off steam; all she could do was drown in a sea of disappointment. Her heart would break if it didn’t come off. It was all so fantastic, such a great opportunity to put Turnham Malpas on the map, so out of this world, and at least it kept her mind off Louise and the new baby for a while. Sheila stopped feeling sorry for herself and took time to wonder what Jimbo’s reaction would be. If he was persuaded by Anna, that would be the end of the W.I.’s audacious plans.