The Bells of Little Woodford

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by Catherine Jones


  Bex led the way into the kitchen. ‘I broke the news about the baby to Richard’s parents.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘Indeed. We’ve barely spoken since.’ She sighed. ‘How about yours?’

  ‘So-so. It was cosy but thank God, Jade could go back to the vicarage to sleep. I don’t how we’d have coped otherwise. As it was, with Tamsin in the spare room, Mike had to sleep on an airbed in the sitting room, so it wasn’t ideal. And then there was the fact that I had to leave them to fend for themselves quite a lot – I had shifts all over the holiday.’ Olivia pulled out a chair from under the kitchen table and sat down.

  ‘That can’t have been much fun.’ Bex filled the kettle and got out the mugs.

  Olivia shrugged. ‘Well, what can you do? If you work in hospitality it comes with the territory. The money was handy though. And I expect my Christmas was better than Miranda’s. At least I didn’t have to spend most of my spare time shovelling shit.’

  The pair looked at each other and giggled.

  ‘Do you know who did it?’ asked Bex.

  Olivia shook her head. ‘Why, do you?’

  Bex wrinkled her nose. ‘There’s a chap at the pub… called Harry. I’d bet good money he might have something to do with it. Or knows who did.’

  ‘I must meet him,’ said Olivia. ‘I’d like to buy that man a drink.’

  ‘Join the queue. There’s no two ways about it, she’s a tricky customer. That said, I was stunned by her choice of book.’

  ‘Oh, come on…’ said Olivia. ‘Love in a Cold Climate?’

  ‘At least it’s accessible… and funny. Just think what she might have chosen.’

  ‘Point taken. But it’s still a cliché.’

  ‘It could still be worse. A lot worse.’

  ‘To be honest, I was a little taken aback when she said she wanted to join the book club. Everything she’s done so far seems to have been designed to either set herself apart or upset the locals. Do you think she’s decided she needs to start accepting the town and the inhabitants for what they are instead of trying to change everything?’

  The kettle clicked off. ‘Maybe. On the other hand I heard some of the things she said before the meeting started; her hatred of animal husbandry, her veganism, and then there’s the bells.’

  ‘Good luck with that.’ Olivia snorted.

  ‘That’s pretty much what we all told her. But she seems quite determined. It’s as if she doesn’t want to be popular.’

  ‘So why join the book club?’

  ‘Maybe it’s lonely up there on the moral high ground. Or perhaps she hopes to subversively convert us to her way of thinking.’

  ‘Then she’s soon going to realise that we don’t want to change.’

  ‘Indeed. We like this place the way it is.’ Bex poured the boiling water onto the coffee granules and passed a mug and the milk to Olivia.

  ‘Ah, but I think she reckons we’d like it more if we took her advice.’

  ‘You mean go meat-free and weave our own lentils?’

  ‘How’s her petition against the bells doing?’ asked Olivia after she’d had a sip of her coffee.

  Bex picked up her iPad off the counter and flipped back the cover before she pressed the ‘on’ button and tapped in her code. She sat next to Olivia and tapped one of the icons. Then she typed in ‘St Catherine’s Church bells petition’ into a text box.

  She looked at the window that popped up and snorted. ‘Oh, dear,’ she chortled. ‘I don’t think that’s going to cut much ice. Seventy-eight signatures. And I bet half of them aren’t local. I think that makes it Little Woodford one–Miranda Osborne nil.’

  Chapter 46

  Heather, Brian, Bert and a gaggle of others, including the bell-ringers, stood by the font and gazed towards the roof of the crossing of the nave and the transept at a point which was directly under the tower. They were corralled behind a safety barrier and all sported hard hats as they watched one of the massive bells sway slowly in the trapdoor that was high above a line of pallets waiting to receive them. There was a deal of shouting of instructions from the man from the foundry at the team of volunteers, some of whom were up in the belfry, others were stationed in the ringing chamber and yet more were in the body of the church, and between the three teams they were making sure the bell got a safe passage to ground level. Over and above the shouted instructions – left a bit… lower away… stop – came the clank and rattle of the chains that attached the bell and the headstock to the block and tackle so it could be lowered, inch by grinding inch. Finally a couple of helpers were able to reach up and guide it onto the centre of the pallet. It settled on the wooden planks with a gentle thud.

  ‘One down, five to go,’ said Brian cheerfully.

  ‘They’re big when they’re close up, aren’t they?’ said Heather.

  ‘And this is the treble,’ said Pete, the steeple keeper.

  ‘Is that the smallest?’ asked Heather. She knew the answer but she also knew how passionate Pete was about the bells and he only needed the smallest of nudges to talk about them.

  ‘Yup,’ said Pete. ‘That’s it. This is number one and they all get bigger and bigger all the way to number six – the tenor.’ And as he rambled on about change-ringing, its history and the combinations and permutations that went into ringing peals and rounds, the workers hauled up the chains and made ready to lower another bell and Heather began working out what she needed to add to her shopping list.

  ‘Yes, I see,’ said Heather eventually. ‘You really know your stuff, don’t you?’ She glanced at her watch. ‘My, is that the time? I’ve got to go and get lunch on. I’ve a meeting this afternoon and I can’t be late.’ She departed out of the church and into the sharp breeze that nipped at her ankles as she made her way back to the vicarage. The meeting she’d alluded to was a bit of a lie but she wanted to go and see Bex after she finished at the pub and before she went to collect the children from school. She hadn’t seen her for a while and she’d heard from Olivia, at church on the previous Sunday, that Bex’s in-laws weren’t exactly happy at the thought of a new step-grandchild. She didn’t feel there was much she could do to help but maybe Bex might like the opportunity to sound off a little.

  Brian came back for lunch about thirty minutes later and was in a fine mood. The fact that work had actually started on fixing the bell frame had improved his morale immensely.

  ‘And,’ he said as he tucked into Heather’s home-made vegetable soup, ‘it’s even better that they’ll be ready to ring at Easter. Actually, I think they’ll be ready before but we can save the moment for Easter Sunday. It’ll be the icing on the cake.’

  ‘Miranda Osborne won’t think so. I can see her protesting with a placard in the churchyard. Ban the Bells!’

  ‘She can try.’

  ‘She came to the book club last week.’

  ‘It’s a free country.’

  ‘Olivia thinks that load of manure was a bit of a wake-up call – that she might be able to get away with bonkers protests in a place like London where they’re used to those sorts of things but here… All she’s done is make herself very unpopular. And now she’s trying to row back – hence joining the book club.’

  Brian looked over his glasses at his wife. ‘So she’s walked into the lion’s den, eh? She’s not lacking in courage, is she?’

  ‘We’re not fierce,’ protested Heather. ‘It’s a lovely welcoming group.’

  ‘Yes, dear,’ said Brian and carried on eating his soup.

  An hour later, lunch finished, the washing-up done and a thirty minute postprandial snooze completed, Heather walked up to Bex’s house.

  ‘Is this a good time?’ she asked Bex, when her friend opened the door.

  ‘Perfect. I’ve just got back from the pub. Miles is here too.’ She shut the door and led the way into the kitchen. ‘Excuse the mess – I seem to be running out of energy these days. Miles, bless him, has popped round to cook up a bunch of stuff to go in my freezer.’


  Miles was standing by the table dicing carrots and onions. ‘Hi, Heather.’

  ‘Hello, Miles. What a kind thing to do.’

  ‘My pleasure. Anyway, I can do this sort of thing in half the time it takes Bex.’

  ‘Bragger,’ said Bex smiling. She filled the kettle. ‘Tea?’

  ‘Please,’ said Heather. ‘Are you overdoing things?’

  ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘How long till the baby’s due?’

  ‘Five months – give or take. I’ll be stopping work at Easter.’

  ‘Good,’ said Heather firmly.

  ‘I agree,’ said Miles.

  ‘Not that the school holidays mean a rest for me. With the kids around twenty-four seven it’s harder work than it is when I’m at the pub. I’d half planned to take them to Cyprus to see Granny Helen and Grandpa Phil…’

  ‘Are those Richard’s parents?’

  Bex nodded and then patted her belly. ‘They’re not over the moon about this little one here.’

  Miles snorted and chopped even more rapidly.

  ‘Tricky.’

  ‘That’s one word for it. It doesn’t help matters that I was the hired help before I married Richard. I obviously wasn’t good enough for their son.’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ said Heather.

  Bex sighed. ‘OK, maybe I’m exaggerating but Granny Helen’s always been a bit tricky where I’m concerned. And I can’t cut her out of our lives – she’s the kids’ granny. But, right now, I can’t face a fortnight in Cyprus with her having digs at me all the time and it’s too far to go for just a few days. And it’s not a situation that’s going to go away.’

  ‘I wish I knew what to suggest.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter.’ Bex sounded resigned and fed up. ‘This is why we have friends… because we can’t choose our families. In the meantime we’ll all just have to make the best of it. I imagine she’ll get over it… eventually.’

  Miles put down his knife. ‘I think you’re being an absolute saint. I’d have told Helen to take a hike long since.’

  Bex made the tea and passed the mugs around. She paused by Miles and put her hand on his shoulder. ‘I love you for your support on this… but I can’t. I can’t alienate her, and the kids can’t know that relations between us are at an all-time low. I think Megan might have picked up a bit of a vibe but the boys are still in blissful ignorance – and I want it to stay that way. Even if, when we FaceTime at Christmas, she can barely bring herself to talk to me. But we can get through this. And I’m so glad I’ve got you to help me.’

  Miles reached up and held her hand and gave her a grin. ‘I think you’re forgetting that I got you into this mess.’

  ‘And I wouldn’t have it any other way.’

  Heather smiled at the couple. Yes, she thought, together they were strong enough to weather most things – including a difficult mother-in-law.

  *

  Work progressed on the bell frame and the steel girders that were going to underpin it finally got delivered ready to be fitted into the bell tower. Parishioners came and gawped at the bells now they were all on the floor of the church, the local TV station filmed the work as it progressed and Brian longed for it all to be over so his church could be returned to normal. The book club met and discussed Love in a Cold Climate and chose another book to read for the March meeting; the snowdrops in the churchyard faded and were replaced by daffs and then suddenly it was almost Easter, the supermarket started to stock Easter eggs and Bex began to think about what she could do to entertain the children for two whole weeks of holiday when good weather wasn’t guaranteed. But at least when Easter had come and gone she could look forward to giving up work and being able to put her feet up during the day. Although, while she was looking forward to putting her feet up – her ankles were starting to get quite swollen at the end of each shift – she really wasn’t looking forward to stopping working. She loved her job and the locals that frequented the pub. And she really liked working for Belinda.

  She told Belinda as much one sunny spring morning as she arrived at work. The door to the kitchen was propped open and Bex could hear the sound of Miles and Jamie working at prepping lunches.

  ‘Not as much as I’m going to miss you,’ said Belinda with feeling.

  ‘How’s the recruiting going?’

  Not brilliant, if I’m honest. There’s been a card up in the post office for two weeks now and I’ve not had one enquiry. You’d think someone would want a part-time job in a nice environment and which slots in with school hours.’

  ‘And with a thoroughly lovely boss.’

  ‘Are you talking about me?’ came Miles’s voice from the kitchen.

  ‘Certainly not. I haven’t forgotten how you used to shout at me when I first started working here.’

  Miles came out of the kitchen and leaned against the door jamb. ‘I didn’t shout; I was offering you advice.’

  ‘Huh!’

  ‘And huh from me too,’ said Belinda. ‘I’ve lived with you, remember.’ She called to Jamie, over Miles’s shoulder. ‘What do you say, Jamie?’

  ‘Nothing – he’s holding a knife,’ was the response.

  Everyone laughed.

  ‘Three against one,’ said Miles. ‘That’s not fair.’ He retreated back into the kitchen and pulled the door shut behind him.

  Bex cracked on with her duties before opening time and Belinda went to her office upstairs to chivvy an order for mixers which should have arrived and hadn’t.

  At midday Bex unlocked the front door and waited for the punters to arrive. And while she waited she thought about something which had been on her mind for some time. She came to a decision and pushed open the door to the kitchen. Miles was working on his own and she could see Jamie in the pub car park dragging on a sneaky fag.

  ‘Come to apologise?’ said Miles. But he was smiling.

  ‘What for?’

  ‘Saying I shouted at you.’

  ‘Don’t be silly, of course I haven’t.’ Bex walked around the stainless steel counter and kissed him on the cheek. ‘But I have come with a proposal.’

  ‘Propose away.’ Miles’s eyes widened. ‘It’s… you’re not…’

  ‘No – not that sort of proposal.’ Bex grinned. ‘I’ve got to wait for a leap year to do that. No, I wondered… well, it seems silly to pay two lots of council tax and two lots of utility bills. So… well, the kids are used to you being around a lot and me living in a big house with loads of space and you living in a shoebox of a flat…’

  ‘Are you inviting me to move in?’

  ‘Yes. I won’t be offended if you’d rather not. I do understand that having three kids… four soon… will be a bit of a shock to an old bachelor like you.’

  ‘Hey, less of the old.’

  ‘But what do you think?’

  Miles nodded. ‘It sounds like a plan. But what about Megan?’

  ‘I think she’d like it. And the boys love having you around.’

  ‘You think she’d like it. I think you need to ask Megan – just to be sure.’

  ‘And if she says yes, you’d like to move in?’

  Miles nodded again. ‘Well, I totally understand you want a live-in chef and a reserve babysitter but, as a swap for a few more cuddles and someone to watch telly with, it doesn’t seem too lousy a deal.’

  Bex kissed him again. ‘I don’t know why I love you, but I do.’

  ‘Good. I love you too.’

  A loud shout of ‘Oi!’ from the bar broke up their romantic moment. Guiltily Bex shot back out of the kitchen.

  ‘Hi, Harry.’

  ‘What does a man have to do to get a drink around here?’

  ‘Sorry about that. The usual?’

  Chapter 47

  Brian and Heather might have been able to relax over the bells and the fundraising but not all was sweetness and light at the vicarage. Despite the fact that, on several occasions, Brian had gently reminded Jade about the house rules, she still seemed to
forget that her hosts weren’t personal servants whose job it was to clear up after her.

  Heather had been out at a meeting of the Little Woodford Historical Society which had involved a visit to an archaeological dig on a farm up near Woodford Priors. All the members of the society had been encouraged to have a go which had been fun – but back-breaking. Heather, despite her elation at finding a flint arrowhead, had come home aching and tired and longing for a hot bath to ease her shoulders and back before she set about cooking supper for them all.

  She let herself in through the back door and saw that Jade had already returned from work – the signs were obvious as the kitchen looked like a total tip despite the fact that Heather had left it looking immaculate when she’d gone out after lunch. She sighed but decided she’d have the run-in with Jade after her bath when she felt refreshed. Wearily she climbed the stairs and headed for the bathroom to turn on the taps so it would fill while she got undressed and into her dressing gown. Across the corridor she could hear Radio One blaring out. Never mind, loud music wouldn’t spoil her enjoyment of her soak.

  Heather’s eyebrows shot up when she opened the door. Two wet towels were on the floor, there was a ring an inch wide around the bath and a dusting of talcum powder over everything. Heather blew angrily down her nose and stomped across the landing to Jade’s room. She banged on the door.

  ‘Yeah?’

  Heather opened the door. ‘A word.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘A word,’ she shouted.

  Jade reached for her laptop and pressed some buttons. The music faded.

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘What’s the matter?’

  Heather took a breath before she started. ‘Quite a lot actually. The kitchen is a disaster zone yet again. Do you never think about looking behind you when you leave a room and wonder if it looks the same as when you entered it?’

  Jade looked confused.

  ‘I don’t mean the bricks and mortar or the soft furnishings but the mess – the crumbs, the dollops of jam, the dirty plates and cups…’

  ‘Well—’

  ‘No, you don’t. And I have just got back and the one thing I was looking forward to was a hot bath and I find the bathroom is even worse than the kitchen.’

 

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