Startled by Caroline’s movement as she stood up, Suzy froze with surprise. She half raised her hand in greeting and then let it fall to her side. What did you say to the woman who’d taken the children you couldn’t cope with? Maybe she could have managed somehow. Perhaps she ought never to have let them go. Having met them, she knew so positively that she should have kept them. Especially Alex. He was so bewilderingly like Peter; his gestures, his protectiveness to his sister, that same kind of caring.
It was Caroline who opened their conversation. ‘Hello.’
‘Hello.’ Suzy saw that Caroline’s arms were held rigidly by her sides so she didn’t hold out her hand to shake. ‘Lovely day, as usual when there’s an event at Turnham Malpas.’
‘I’m amazed by all the people who’ve come. We didn’t expect such a huge response.’
‘No. It’s surprising.’
‘I understand lots of people are staying over for the service tomorrow.’
‘We’re going home tonight.’
‘Right. Your girls, Rosie and Pansy and Daisy, are they well?’
Suzy gave her a huge smile. ‘Yes, thank you.’
‘And Michael?’
Suzy’s face lost its smile. ‘He’s well.’
Caroline, seeing the discomfort, had to know. ‘Has it worked out with him? Are you happy?’
‘Tolerably. I’ve known worse.’
‘I’m sorry.’
An uncomfortable silence followed in which Suzy contemplated asking about the twins and Caroline decided they couldn’t stand here much longer avoiding the subject.
‘The children say you’ve spoken to them.’
A great ball of emotion lodged itself in Suzy’s chest. ‘Yes, I have. They are lovely. Beth doesn’t have much to say, does she?’
‘She never stops talking usually.’
‘Alex is obviously in charge.’
‘I don’t know about that.’
‘That’s how they came across to me.’
‘I expect they felt embarrassed. Awkward, you know.’
‘You’ve told them everything?’
Caroline nodded. ‘Yes.’
Suzy sighed. ‘I’m glad, it’s only fair.’ Caroline asked sharply, ‘To whom?’
‘To them, of course.’
‘It didn’t seem fair to me.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Is that all you have to say? On a whim you all but trashed my marriage, decided you could give your children away very conveniently to their father and then you went off into the blue for a new start with your next husband. And you say sorry? It is hardly adequate.’
Suzy jerked back with the shock of Caroline’s onslaught. ‘But I thought you wanted them.’
‘I did. I do. But in here,’ she patted her chest, ‘in here I’m desperately sad because Alex can’t get over you giving him away. I explained your circumstances to him, but he still came to the conclusion that you couldn’t have wanted him. That’s a terrible thing for a child to feel.’
‘Haven’t you compensated for that? Do you not love him then?’
‘Of course I do. I love both of them like they were my own. And don’t you dare entice them while you’re here with promises of this and that. You understand? I can’t even begin to get my mind round why you’ve come today. Michael, yes. You, no. Do you have any idea how hurtful it is? To me, to the children and especially to Peter.’
Suzy hesitated. ‘I’ve spoken to Peter; he seemed all right.’
‘That’s Peter, having consideration for everyone as usual and not wishing to wound.’
Suzy opened her mouth to apologize yet again, realizing for the first time that the anxiety she’d felt about coming was justified and she should never have allowed Michael to persuade her. But in truth she’d been easily persuaded. She’d desperately wanted to see her twins, just this once. ‘I . . . I . . .’
‘Why did you come? Just to hurt us?’
Someone came in, their heels busily tip-tapping on the stone floor. ‘Oh! Ah, yes. Just coming to check my flowers but I’ll come back later. Sorry.’ Sheila Bissett turned to go.
‘That’s all right, Sheila. We’ve finished,’ Caroline called out.
But Suzy hadn’t. As she walked down the aisle with Caroline she said loudly, with almost hysterical passion, ‘You’ve got everything. The loving husband a million women would die for and the two beautiful children I gave you.’
It was the note of hysteria in her voice that alerted Caroline to the truth. She loved him. After all these years, Suzy loved Peter. That was a complication she hadn’t anticipated. She had persuaded herself, in order to ease her own terrible pain, that it was a transitory thing, a moment of lust between them. Caroline wished she hadn’t been so outspoken about her marriage being trashed and Alex’s anguish, because Suzy had suffered, three times over: giving the twins away, the misfortune of an unsuccessful marriage and loving Peter . . . She trembled inside. Uncertain. Afraid. She’d have to find Peter.
She found him in the school hall, deep in conversation with the two old headmasters, the ancient Mr Browning and Michael Palmer. As she listened to them talking, it seemed as though Mr Browning was the younger man of the two. With age his voice was frail, but the words were as forceful as ever they had been.
‘Wonderful improvements to the school. Central heating! My word! That old stove was the bane of my life. Just here it stood. I see the same clock still ticks away the hours. Are you the new head?’ His bright brown eyes sparkled his appreciation of Caroline.
‘No, I’m Peter’s wife.’
‘What a delight you are, my dear. You have children?’
Very positively Caroline answered, ‘Two.’
‘You should have more. Young intelligent folk like yourselves should have armies of children. It’s what the nation needs, bright, healthy children brought up by godly parents. Yes, indeed.’
This statement, coming as it did after her altercation with Suzy, was almost too much for Caroline. She simply nodded and smiled.
Peter drew closer to her, sensing her unease, and diverted Mr Browning from his population theories by saying, ‘Now, Mr Browning, what do you think of our computers? Bit of a change from using slates, eh?’
‘My word! Wonderful. State of the art. They even outshine mine and I thought that was good when I bought it. But then it’s two years old now so it’s old hat, I suppose. Mr Palmer, are you computer literate? You must be, of course.’
Mr Palmer, now greying and somehow faded, shook his head. ‘No, no. Can’t be bothered with all this new technology. I leave that to my younger staff.’
Mr Browning playfully punched his arm. ‘Come on, man, get to it. Younger staff indeed! If I can learn, so can you! At your age you should be at the forefront of it all. I haven’t met the present head yet. Where is she?’
Peter saw Kate coming across the hall as though on cue. ‘She’s here. Kate, a wonderful day! You’ve done a great job.’
Kate wasn’t feeling as though she was doing a great job. The notes she’d jotted down during her ghastly night of tossing and turning had all been gobbledegook when she’d read them this morning and it had unnerved her. She braced herself for further social chit-chat.
Holding out her hand, she grasped Mr Browning’s and was surprised to find how strong it was. She said, ‘I think you must be Mr Browning. Welcome back to Turnham Malpas School. So good of you to find time to come. And Mrs Browning?’
‘My grandson has found a nice quiet corner for her and she’s sitting on a chair remembering. How nice to meet you. What a wonderful idea to have a celebration! I loved working here. Do you?’
Kate nodded. ‘I do. So rewarding and everyone in the village is so supportive. I love it. I shan’t go until they force me out.’
‘I’m glad, my dear. You’ll never be happier. Now, take me round this display and point out people I might know.’ Old Mr Browning crooked his arm and invited Kate to escort him. They trotted off followed by Mr Palmer, leaving Caro
line and Peter alone for a moment.
Peter watched Mr Browning as he stopped Kate beside a display of photographs. ‘He’s a feisty old chap, isn’t he? I really admire old gentlemen like him.’
‘So do I. He’s years younger than Mr Palmer in his mind. They’re not all that happy, you know.’
‘Who?’
‘Suzy and him.’
‘What makes you say that?’
‘She said as much.’
Peter tried hard to be casual. ‘You’ve spoken then?’
‘We met by chance in the church.’ Caroline, to others, might have appeared to be studying the display of triumphs of old pupils at the school but she was saying, ‘I think she regrets giving us the children. They’ve spoken to her but she couldn’t make out if they knew who she was. But they did, of course. From what I can gather, Beth refused to speak.’
Peter joined her pretence of looking at the display. ‘I’m so sorry about today. Be brave, see it through, and then we can get back to normal.’
‘I understand you’ve spoken to her.’
‘How do you know?’
‘She said so.’
‘We passed the time of day.’
‘Peter, tell me honestly. You don’t feel . . . attracted to her, do you?’
He gripped her hand and looked at her. Today he was wearing a casual jacket and trousers with his clerical collar and she couldn’t remember him looking more handsome than he did just then. His smile scrambled her insides as it always did. He said, ‘Absolutely not. There is no point in speaking of anything other than trivialities, because there’s nothing between us. That’s the absolute truth.’
Kate returned just as they were pulling themselves back from their ragged emotions. ‘Platform time! Come along. Make haste or we shall be running late.’
They went with her out into the bright sunshine to be faced by the large crowd all waiting on the Green, with more coming out of the village hall and even more streaming from the school to swell the gathering. The last few scurried across Stocks Row in time to watch old Mr Browning and his wife and Mr and Mrs Palmer climbing the steps and taking their places. Kate tested the microphone, looked around the platform and realized Craddock wasn’t there, spotted him in the crowd and signalled to him to come up the steps and take his place. She crooked an imperious finger at him and then pointed to his chair on the platform. The crowd roared their approval. They had never seen Mr Fitch bossed about like a naughty child before and it amused them. He got several pats on the back as he made his way through to the platform, all in good humour, and Craddock began to wonder if he might, just might be getting accepted. When he was seated, a small cheer went up and the speeches began.
Kate drew on her rapidly diminishing resources and began her speech. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Turnham Malpas School’s one hundred and fiftieth anniversary. I am amazed by the wonderful response you have given to our invitation. There are dozens more of you here than I had ever hoped for. Thank you so much for your support. We celebrate a century and a half as a centre of learning. The school is so well equipped I am the envy of all my colleagues. Our computers are the best of the best, obviously a tremendous tool for broadening our children’s education. By the beginning of the next school year we shall have new playground equipment, generously donated by a benefactor, which will be the envy of every school in the county. All these things contribute to the rich experience a school needs to provide to ensure we send well-rounded, engaging pupils with enquiring minds and sound morals out into the world. In the school hall you will see that we have two boys and three girls who have won places this year to Prince Henry’s and to Lady Wortley’s. A record number.’
There was a burst of congratulatory applause.
‘Hands up all those who remember attending the school when Mr Browning was Head? Here he is, as sprightly and forward-thinking as ever.’ A round of applause for Mr Browning followed. ‘He’ll be speaking shortly. Hands up all those who remember being taught by Mr Palmer? He’s as kind and authoritative as ever, and still playing cricket, which we all know was a great passion of his.’ An even more substantial number of hands went up. ‘He’ll speak after Mr Browning. Remember to look round our memorabilia in the school hall and when in need of sustenance visit the church hall, where the food is as glorious as ever.
‘At six-thirty there will be the quiz, organized by Hetty Hardaker and her husband Theo. Old pupils versus the newcomers, that is, people not educated in our school. That will be held in the school hall. But before then, Years Six and Seven are to entertain us with a play and the infants with choral singing, trained by Mrs Hardaker. They’ve worked tremendously hard to fine-tune their performances and I know you can all look forward to some excellent entertainment. Thank you.’
Kate sat down to enthusiastic applause. She beamed with delight. All in all, everything had gone off without a hitch, so far, that was, if you discounted the problem with Muriel’s music, Maggie Dobbs loudly scolding two children who had dropped chewing gum on the hall floor just as they were going out to start the Maypole dancing, Pat Jones catching the Misses Senior stealing meringues from her buffet, and Hetty and Margaret Booth having a flare-up over the choir. Minor matters in the grand scheme of things. She smiled at Craddock and saw he was grinning from ear to ear, obviously thoroughly enjoying himself. He caught her eye and winked and, for a moment, there was no one else there but him. She resisted the urge to kiss him as a thank you for making her so happy when she’d had such doubts about marrying him, for indulging her with her school, and for trying so hard to be accepted. Quite a few of the sceptics saw him grip her hand and give it a squeeze. It looked as though they might be married for far longer than anyone had supposed.
Epilogue
Kate wriggled her bare toes and felt the fine, warm sand filter between them. The book she’d bought at the airport lay unopened in her bag. Even a lifetime habit of reading a newspaper every day had been abandoned. She checked her watch. It was just about time for afternoon tea. Craddock would keep to these traditional English habits and she humoured him. To tell him he was being ridiculous would only hurt him and causing him pain was not on her agenda. She shielded her eyes and searched along the beach where the sea was softly creeping up the sand, small ripples giving way to waves the further out she looked.
Ah, there he was, walking quietly up the beach and stepping tidily between the sunloungers. She waved and he quickened his step. No one seeing him relaxed and happy would even pause to comment on their age difference. He looked so fit and lean. Kate held out his beach towel to him and he thanked her with a kiss.
‘Do you know, I’m lying here with a completely blank mind.’
‘Is that possible?’
‘No, not really. All too frequently, thoughts pop up like a jack-in-a-box.’
‘Such as?’
‘That Peter and Caroline may very possibly be leaving us this time next year. It’s just too terrible to contemplate. However shall we manage without them?’
‘I must say it came as a shock to me, well, to all of us.’
‘I know they’ll be coming back, but a whole year away seems a long time.’
‘Too long.’ Craddock saw the waiter with a laden tray about fifty yards away searching for them. He waved.
When the waiter had seated them to his satisfaction, Craddock gave him a tip and shoo’d him away. ‘Never got used to servants standing over me.’
‘Me neither. Peter always feels like a rock to me, like in the Bible. How shall we cope with his replacement? But no one could replace him. He’s unique.’
‘Sandwich, before they curl up in the heat?’
‘Yes, please. I must say, I have never in the whole of my life stayed in such a spectacular hotel.’
‘It won’t be the last. You’ll see.’ Craddock washed his sandwich down with a drink of tea, returned his cup to its saucer and added, ‘I just wish he hadn’t been tempted. Africa! All that heat and those flies. Still, after all these y
ears in the village, maybe it’s time for him to be shaken up a little.’
‘It’s what he wanted. Something to get his teeth into. Lots of initiatives to start up, new faces, a greater need for his particular talents. I admire him for contemplating the whole idea when he has such a cushy number in Turnham Malpas.’
‘Mmm.’
‘I think he’s searching for new fields to conquer because he wants to get away from . . . well, I don’t know how he sees it, but to get away from his . . . sin?’
Craddock refilled her cup and handed it to her. ‘Careful, it’s hot. You’ll scald yourself if you spill it on your skin. They appeared to manage very well at the anniversary considering what an explosive situation it was.’
‘Yes, but apparently Sheila Bissett interrupted Caroline and Suzy talking in the church. She said they were arguing and it was very embarrassing.’
‘She’d say black was white if it made a good story.’
‘Sheila was genuinely upset.’
‘Maybe.’ Craddock sat gazing out to sea, occasionally selecting another sandwich. They were so damned small, more like postage stamps. ‘Kate?’
‘Mmm?’
‘I have the feeling I’m accepted a little more since you and I—’
‘I thought so too. When they cheered?’
‘Yes . . . When we’ve finished our tea we’ll both need more lotion. The sun is very intense.’
‘You might, having swum, but I’ve stayed under the umbrella all afternoon.’
Intrigue in the Village (Turnham Malpas 10) Page 24