The Bells of Little Woodford

by Catherine Jones

  ‘Attending church isn’t a prerequisite for wanting to help the local community.’

  ‘As I said, Mr Milward isn’t a churchgoer.’

  ‘Maybe you would like to ask Mr Milward himself if he might find a minute or two in his schedule to see me?’

  ‘Please hold.’

  Once again the tinny music started but Brian had only heard about two bars of it when the PA came back on the line. ‘I’m afraid Mr Milward’s diary is full for the foreseeable future.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Brian put the phone down knowing that Mr Milward hadn’t even been consulted. ‘Thank you very much indeed,’ he hissed to no one.

  This exercise was going to be even more depressing and dispiriting than he’d feared.

  *

  ‘That was brilliant,’ said Miss Watkins, clapping her hands and beaming at the children sitting in a circle in the school’s drama studio. ‘Ashley, I am thrilled that you are so nearly off-book. And so early on.’

  ‘Only the first act, miss. I haven’t learnt the rest yet,’ said Ashley, glowing with the praise.

  ‘Even so. He’s an example to the rest of you,’ said Miss Watkins to her after-school drama group. ‘Now then, I have printed off a further rehearsal schedule, if you’d like to pass them around, Megan.’ She handed sheets of A4 to her and Megan walked around the room handing one to each pupil. ‘So, as you can see, Wednesdays will continue to be a full-cast rehearsal but I want to go through specific scenes in the lunch hours.’ One or two of the pupils exchanged looks which were intercepted by Miss Watkins. ‘Yes, I know this means you lose some free time but if we’re going to be ready to perform this in December then we’re all going to have to make sacrifices.’

  ‘It’s fine with me, miss,’ said Ashley.

  ‘Licker,’ someone said in a barely audible whisper.

  If Miss Watkins heard the comment she ignored it but to judge by the scowl on Ashley’s face he’d not missed it.

  ‘So, if you make a note of the new schedule, some of you I’ll see tomorrow and Friday – the rest of you, I’ll see you next week. Oh, and don’t forget to stack your chairs,’ she added over the increasing hubbub as the drama club kids gathered up their bags and coats and got ready to go home.

  Ashley and Megan put their chairs on one of the piles by the door and walked out into bright autumn sunshine.

  ‘How come you’ve learnt so much?’ asked Megan as they headed across the school grounds to the gate.

  ‘I dunno. I just love this whole acting thing, don’t you?’

  ‘Well… I mean it’s fun and the drama group has some nice people in and Miss Watkins is great…’

  Ashley stopped and stared at her. ‘But it’s so much more than that.’

  ‘Is it?’

  ‘Yes!’ The passion in his voice startled Megan. ‘I can be… It’s…’ Ashley threw his hands in the air in frustration at not being able to vocalise exactly what he meant. ‘It’s so liberating.’

  ‘Liberating? You’re weird.’

  ‘You don’t get it. You’re not really serious about it.’

  ‘And you are? It’s a school panto, Ash, get a grip.’

  *

  ‘How was drama club?’ asked Amy as her son banged into the house. She was sitting on the sofa filing her nails.

  ‘All right.’ He slung his bag on the floor at the bottom of the stairs.

  ‘Good. And I got a new job today. Well, it’s more like an old one because I’ll be working up at Olivia’s old place but for the new people. Mind you, I might’ve thought that Mrs L was up herself but she’s got nothing on this new woman. I mean, talk about humourless. If you told me she’d swallowed a poker I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised.’

  ‘Hmm.’

  ‘You all right, Ash? Cat got your tongue?’

  ‘Hmm.’

  ‘You could at least be pleased for me.’ She stretched her hand in front of her and admired her work.

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Something the matter?’

  Ash shook his head. ‘They don’t get it.’

  ‘Who? Who doesn’t get what?’

  ‘The drama club. They’re just playing at it. They’re not serious about acting, they’re just playing at it. ’

  ‘But ain’t that what it’s about – play acting?’

  ‘God, no, Mum.’

  ‘Pardon me for being such an ignoramus. Anyway, what’s with this sudden obsession? You spend every moment with your nose in that book, you hardly talk to me…’ Amy stopped and stared at her son. ‘Are you sweet on that Miss Watkins? I’ve been hearing about her. Someone told Gran that her husband had his eyes out on stalks at the last parents’ evening and she looked young enough to be his daughter.’

  ‘God, no, Mum. How can you suggest such a thing?’ He sounded utterly disgusted then he turned and stamped off to his room muttering about going over his lines.

  Amy stared after her son. He was really upset about being asked if he fancied Miss Watkins. When she’d been at school loads of the boys had the hots for some of the younger female teachers – so why not her Ash? And all this acting and dressing up and stuff… Supposing her Ash was gay? She’d worried that people might think he was gay because of this acting palaver but supposing he really was?

  Chapter 18

  A couple of days later Amy was walking through town on her way to work at Bex’s house. As she passed the pub she saw Belinda up a stepladder watering her hanging baskets.

  ‘Hi, Belinda,’ she called.

  Belinda turned and wobbled. She clutched the top of the ladder.

  ‘Careful,’ exhorted Amy.

  ‘Morning, Amy.’ She put the can down on the top step and climbed down before lifting it off. ‘How’s the dating game going?’

  ‘Not brilliantly. To be honest, that last one made me wonder if it’s worth it.’

  ‘Not all men are tight-fisted bores.’

  ‘Yeah, well.’

  ‘You should have another go. What have you got to lose?’

  ‘If I get another date like the last one, the answer is an evening at home with the telly.’

  Belinda laughed. ‘Go on, have a go.’

  ‘Maybe. Anyway, I’d better get on. Don’t want to be late for Bex.’

  Amy turned into the drive to The Beeches and let herself in the front door.

  ‘Morning!’ she called as she clacked across the tiled hall.

  ‘Morning, Amy.’

  Bex’s voice came from the utility room. As Amy headed towards the kitchen she saw something lying on the floor. She picked up the item – a sock. A man’s sock.

  ‘I found this,’ said Amy going into the utility room and handing it over.

  ‘Oh.’ Bex coloured before she added, ‘One of my bed socks.’

  Yeah, right. Amy had changed the sheets on Bex’s bed more than enough times to know that Bex didn’t wear bed socks. And if she did she wouldn’t wear size twelves. So whose was it?

  ‘The usual?’ asked Amy as her mind whirled as to who might have left some laundry. Fancy old Bex snaffling a bloke. Not that she was ‘old’ and she was still quite a looker but, thought Amy, Bex was older than she was and had a load more kids so if someone fancied Bex, maybe there was hope for her. Maybe she shouldn’t give up on finding someone just yet.

  Bex nodded and slammed the washing machine shut. ‘Please. I’m going to have to love you and leave you. We seem to have run out of almost everything and I need to hit the supermarket.’

  ‘I’ll still be here when you get back – unless you’re going to be doing other stuff after.’

  ‘No, just a shop. I’ll be back by eleven unless something drastic happens.’

  Bex whizzed around, gathering up shopping bags, her coat, her keys and her handbag before she left, while Amy went upstairs to make a start on the kids’ bedrooms. She watched out of the window to see the car pull out of the drive before she went into Bex’s bedroom and picked up the laptop from her dressing table. She sat on the bed
and flipped it open and then logged into her dating site.

  ‘Let’s have a look at what’s on offer,’ she muttered as she scrolled down the page. After all, if Bex could find a date she should be able to; besides, she had much better tits than her boss and everyone knew that’s what blokes liked.

  *

  At the end of the afternoon, Zac got off the school bus in the middle of town and looked up the road towards Beeching Rise and his home. He dreaded going home. The atmosphere was toxic, his mother was always stressed, Jade was a pain – either snapping and snarling or crying – and the place was a tip. He had to admit the irony of hating living in a mess. Six months previously, when he’d been heavily into drugs, his room had been vile. But getting Oscar and cleaning his act up had changed all that. Besides, now his room was the size of a shoebox, if he didn’t keep it organised he’d never find anything.

  Zac glanced the other way down the street – towards The Beeches. He wondered if Megan was in. He hadn’t seen her for an age.

  They’d started out as friends but they’d fallen out over his drug habit. It had all been his fault; he’d been a git, a total arse and, in retrospect, he was ashamed of his behaviour. They’d made up eventually but that easy familiarity that they’d first enjoyed hadn’t been quite the same.

  Zac made his mind up and headed towards Megan’s house. He rang the doorbell and waited on the step.

  ‘Hello, stranger,’ said Bex, when she opened the door. ‘How was the move?’

  ‘Grim,’ said Zac. ‘The house is the pits.’ He smiled at Bex. ‘Sorry, but that’s the truth.’

  ‘I saw it the day after you’d moved there. It’s not quite what you’re used to, is it?’

  Zac shook his head. ‘Is Megan in?’

  ‘Yeah, of course.’ Bex moved to the bottom of the stairwell and yelled up two floors. ‘Megan! Visitor.’

  There was a pause before Megan appeared on the first floor, looking over the banister. ‘Hi, Zac.’ She pattered down the remaining stairs.

  Bex slid off to the kitchen.

  ‘I wondered if you fancied taking Oscar for a walk,’ said Zac.

  ‘I suppose. Why?’

  ‘Well…’ Zac shrugged. ‘I haven’t seen you for a while. You’ve not been down the skatepark.’

  ‘Been busy. I’m in the school panto.’

  ‘Hey, well done. What are you in?’

  ‘Cinderella. I’m Cinders.’

  ‘Good for you.’

  ‘It’s a lot of work… lines to learn, rehearsals.’

  Zac nodded. ‘So, do you want to go on this walk?’

  ‘Yeah, why not? I’ll just grab my coat and tell Bex I’m off out.’

  A couple of minutes later the pair was heading towards Zac’s to collect Oscar.

  ‘I keep forgetting you’ve moved,’ said Megan.

  ‘I wish I could.’

  ‘That sounded heartfelt.’

  ‘The new house is a dump. And Jade’s moved back in so we’re really squashed. And she’s being a total pain; always crying, rowing with Mum…’ Zac gave Megan the low-down on recent events in his family. ‘And, to cap it all, Mum’s got a job.’

  ‘Your mum has?’

  ‘Yeah, I know. It’s awful.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Why do you think? I’m having to do housework.’

  Megan started to laugh. ‘Ooh – boys do, you know.’

  ‘It’s not funny.’

  ‘I dunno – the thought of you in a frilly apron and a feather duster…’

  They reached Zac’s new home and Megan took in the exterior. ‘It doesn’t look too bad.’

  ‘Huh.’ Zac let them both in and called to Oscar who came bounding over from his basket in the kitchen. ‘Hello, boy. You pleased to see me? And I bet Jade didn’t take you out, did she?’

  Oscar’s response was to wriggle round Zac’s legs, his tail wagging like it was possessed.

  ‘Come on then, walkies.’

  Oscar barked joyously as Zac took the lead off the hook and clipped it onto Oscar’s collar. Upstairs a door slammed.

  ‘Zac?’ said female voice.

  ‘Yeah. Just taking Oscar out.’

  Footsteps clattered on the stairs. A languorous brunette came into the kitchen.

  ‘Oh,’ she said, seeing Megan.

  ‘Megan, Jade. Jade, Megan,’ said Zac.

  ‘Hi,’ they said to each other in unison.

  ‘You going to be long?’ Jade asked her bother.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because I’m cooking supper and I don’t want it ruined.’

  ‘You’re cooking?’

  ‘Yeah. And?’

  ‘Nothing,’ mumbled Zac.

  ‘Good. So be back by seven thirty, latest. Dad’s promised to be back by then, too.’

  ‘OK, whatever.’

  Zac, Megan and an overexcited Oscar headed out and towards the nature reserve.

  ‘How’s Ash?’ asked Zac. ‘I’ve not seen him this term.’

  ‘Hasn’t he been down the skatepark?’

  Zac shook his head.

  ‘That’s probably because he’s in the school play too and he seems obsessed by it all. I mean, don’t get me wrong, everyone in the drama group is taking it seriously and learning our lines and everything, but Ashley is going a bit bonkers about it all. He said he feels “liberated”.’

  Zac hooted. ‘Liberated? What’s a twat like him got to be liberated about?’

  Megan put her hand on Zac’s arm. ‘Don’t tell him I said that. And don’t tease him.’

  ‘Whatever.’

  ‘Please?’

  ‘I said I won’t, didn’t I?’

  *

  Mags watched Zac and Megan leave Olivia’s house. She narrowed her eyes; she didn’t like that boy. If half of what Amy had told her about him was true he was a right handful. He and Ash had once been mates, which had worried her and she was glad it seemed to have fizzled out – once a druggie, always a druggie in her book – but she wasn’t sure Ashley’s obsession with acting was much of an improvement. Which reminded her… she wanted to see her grandson and she had the perfect excuse to ask him over. She picked up her phone and dialled his mobile.

  ‘Yeah, hi, Gran,’ he said on answering.

  ‘Hello, Ash. Can you come round?’

  ‘What, now?’

  ‘If you’re not busy.’

  ‘Not really.’

  ‘Good, I need you to go up a ladder for me. I’ve got curtains that need hanging in the spare room.’

  ‘I suppose. I’ll be round in a minute.’

  ‘You’re a good boy, Ash. I’ll put the kettle on.’

  It had barely boiled when she heard the noise of a skateboard zipping up the pavement. Then the doorbell rang.

  ‘Ta for this, Ash. The kettle’s just boiled and I’ve got some Jaffa Cakes in.’

  ‘Great.’

  Mags got the packet out of a cupboard and handed it to Ashley then began to fill the teapot. ‘I’ve just seen your mate, Megan.’

  ‘Oh, yeah.’

  ‘She was walking out with Zac and that dog of his.’

  ‘Oh, yeah. You said his parents live opposite.’ Ashley sounded uninterested in her bit of gossip.

  ‘I though you liked her.’

  ‘She’s all right; we’re mates, that’s all.’

  Mags sniffed. If he made a bit of an effort she was sure Megan would notice him and Mags would like that. After all, now his gran was a property owner there was no reason why he shouldn’t set his sights on girls like Megan. Except he didn’t seem to be interested. Instead she said, ‘Your mum says you’re very busy with the play.’

  That wasn’t what Amy had said. She’d said Ashley was obsessed by it. She’d also said he seemed much too interested in the dressing up and make-up for her liking.

  ‘You don’t think…? You’re not suggesting…?’ Mags had said. ‘Your Ash…?’

  ‘I dunno what to think, Mum,’ had been Amy’s response. ‘I can har
dly ask him, can I? He’ll either have a go at me or he’ll lie.’

  Ashley’s face lit up. ‘It’s great. Miss Watkins taught us about stage make-up the other day. It was brilliant. The things you can do if you know how. She’s lent me a book on it.’

  ‘A book on make-up? To you?’ Gawd, maybe Amy was right.

  ‘Why not? Actors have to know how to do their own make-up.’

  ‘You? Wearing make-up!’

  ‘God, Gran, it’s what actors do. And some blokes do… all the time. Look at Russell Brand and Boy George.’

  ‘You’re not thinking of doing that, are you? Wearing make-up?’

  ‘Course not, Gran. Except on stage, obviously. Now – these curtains.’

  Chapter 19

  September slipped into October and the leaves on the trees were shades of russet and gold. The rehearsals for the panto continued, Olivia started to get to grips with juggling work and running a house, Jade grudgingly took on more of the cooking and began to job hunt seriously and Nigel learnt how to stack and run the dishwasher – unloading it seemed to be outside his skill set but Olivia kept reminding herself that some progress was better than no progress. Across on the other side of town, Brian’s bank account for the bells began to grow. And Bex woke up one Saturday morning feeling sick. She lay in bed and waited for the nausea to pass while hoping that she’d not picked up a bug. The last thing she wanted was to be ill over a weekend. After a few minutes she felt better and went downstairs to make herself a cup of tea. The boys were already up and watching CBeebies.

  ‘Hi, guys,’ she said as she passed the sitting room door.

  ‘Hi, Mum,’ they replied in unison.

  ‘Sleep all right?’

  Two tousled blond heads nodded, their eyes fixed to the screen and the antics of the Octonauts.

  Bex left them to it and went to make herself tea. As she turned on the tap she felt sick and dizzy again. She put the kettle on the draining board, leant against the sink and breathed slowly. The ringing in her ears faded as the queasiness went away. Bex pulled a chair over with her foot and sat down. She leaned her head against the cold china of the Belfast sink.

  What’s this all about? she wondered. Low blood sugar? It was a possibility – her supper the previous evening had been stuffed potato and not a very big one. Of course there was another possibility that came with feeling sick in the morning. That thought made her feel even worse. She couldn’t be, could she?