‘People make choices all the time. Some people yesterday could have gone to watch the match at Brentford. They could have gone to the cinema, taken the car out into the country for the day, mucked around doing nothing much, watched a video, partied with friends. But they didn't. They chose to come here to work for the good of the parish, for the good of St Thomas' Church. And I, for one, am very grateful that they did.
‘Now don't get me wrong. All was not sweetness and light. Sometimes we make choices which are not always appreciated by others. For instance, if the person who'd agreed to take the money on the door had skived off to see the Brentford match at the last minute, he'd have been decidedly unpopular hereabouts, wouldn't he? But suppose he'd had a phone call at the last minute asking him to replace the referee for the match, who'd been injured in a car crash? And he'd tried to get a substitute? Wouldn't that be a reasonable excuse for going missing? We can't judge till we know everything … and let's face it, we're not omnipotent.’
Ellie thought, Is he talking about me, ducking out from helping in the kitchen? Where's Jean? Does she realize what he's saying?
Thomas said, ‘Jesus said the greatest commandment was that we should Love One Another. Many of you proved that you did yesterday. You came, you worked, you achieved. Some of you went home in a glow of satisfaction, and that glow of satisfaction, that knowledge that you had worked for the good of the parish, was part of your reward.
‘Some of you had difficult choices to make as the day went on, and not all those choices will have been clearly understood by others. I don't know why the end of the book stall fell off its trestle table and precipitated a hundred books on to the grass.
‘I've heard that someone placed the trestle - without noticing it - so that it dropped off the path into a patch of soft earth. Perhaps they were overtaxing their strength, in putting the table up, and therefore we must not cry “Shame!” on them, but cry “Shame!” on those who should have helped but didn't. If Jesus had been here, we could have called on his carpentry skills to make sure the table didn't collapse. He wasn't here in person, but two young people rushed forward to sort out the mess. Wasn't Jesus using their hands?
‘Yes, he often uses our hands, our feet, our tongues. I don't know how long it will be before he sends us another partner for our rebuilding programme, but I do know that we have to be very sure what we are doing when he does. We need a partner who understands our problems and helps us discover the best possible solution to them - from our point of view as well as from his.
‘Remember, we don't only need a partnership for the rebuilding. We need a partner - a role model - someone to guide us through life. Who will you choose? A man whose sights are set on money? Or one who will help you make the right choices in life, one who has your best interests at heart, someone who will bring out the best in you?
‘Who will you, personally, choose to guide you in the days, weeks, and years to come?’
There was a long silence. Thomas held it for a count of ten, then announced the next hymn.
At the end of the service, Ellie threw off her robe and ran round the outside of the church to the hall. It was bad enough that she hadn't got to church before the service, in order to lay out cups and saucers and fill the urn with water, but to be dawdling after the service as well …! Jean would skin her alive!
Dragging on an apron, Ellie avoided Jean's wrathful eye, and concentrated on serving tea and coffee. Also biscuits; someone had very kindly donated a box of biscuits. A real treat. There was a certain satisfaction to be had in mindless occupations such as doling out drinks and, even, in washing up. Being busy occupied the front of your mind and held back panic.
Don't think about what you're going to do when you finish here. Concentrate on giving Mrs Thing her weak tea with one drop - only one drop, please - of milk in it.
Baby Catriona had woken up, and was now being dandled on someone's knee while Kate talked to Aunt Drusilla. Felicity had cornered Roy, and was talking at him, hankie in hand, dabbing at her eyes, no doubt pouring out the whole sorry story about Diana. Hoping, no doubt, that he'd throw out his chest and say, Leave it all to me!
Roy looked harried. Having a nice-looking female hang on his sleeve was one thing, but being presented with an Orphan of the Storm was quite another. He could barely cope with looking after his own interests, never mind taking on someone else's.
Jean nudged Ellie back to attending to her work. ‘Will you collect the dirty cups, or do I have to do everything?’
‘I'll do it.’ Ellie seized a tray and started to work through the room. Several people enquired after Mrs Dawes and Ellie said she'd be seeing her that afternoon.
Though whether it would be wise to walk there on her own, she didn't know.
Kate waved goodbye, Catriona safely tucked back into her pram. Thomas appeared at her elbow. ‘Everything all right, Ellie?’
‘Not really, no.’ Thomas had broad shoulders and wasn't going to faint if she asked him for help. Unlike Roy, who was looking around for help. Or her.
Thomas said, ‘Police trouble?’
‘Diana trouble. Sir Arthur trouble. I need to make a will. Fast. This morning. Do you know how to do it?’
‘Sure. Every now and then I get asked to help a parishioner make a will, and I have a form somewhere. Come to my study when you've cleared up here. Now, what are you doing about Felicity? I was glad to see her in church, but …’
‘She came because I came. She's frightened her husband might want to dispose of her.’
Thomas's eyebrows peaked. ‘Dispose of her? As in divorce?’
‘I don't think divorce would be his chosen method of disposal. Too expensive, if she could claim half his wealth.’
‘Ah. Does she want to make a will too?’
Ellie hesitated. ‘I'll ask her. She may not have anything to leave, but … let me think about that.’
‘Bring her too.’
‘Ellie!’ Jean was not having her helpers avoid their duties. Especially if they were monopolizing the vicar.
‘Coming!’ said Ellie. She made a beeline for Aunt Drusilla. Most people had already left, or were leaving for their Sunday lunch. Aunt Drusilla sat on, hooded eyes on Roy, whom Felicity had managed to pin into a corner. Aunt Drusilla was weighing up the chances of Roy's getting tangled with Felicity. Ellie could almost hear her aunt's thoughts: Good hips for childbearing and would scrub up nicely, but a silly, weakly sort of creature. Not a good match for my son.
Rose was standing beside Aunt Drusilla, holding her stick. Rose was also looking at Roy and Felicity. Rose would be thinking in terms of her beloved gardening, Men quickly tire of clinging women. She looks as if the first frost would kill her. Definitely not a hardy perennial.
‘Aunt Drusilla,’ said Ellie. ‘I've got to make a will, quickly. Thomas will help me. If I can get it written out within the next quarter of an hour, will you and Rose witness it?’
‘So long as we're not beneficiaries.’
‘Bother,’ said Ellie. ‘I'd like to leave something to Rose. I'll ask Roy, then, shall I?’
Rose went pink. ‘Ellie, dear! I wouldn't wish to … I don't expect …’
‘Why the haste?’ enquired Aunt Drusilla, cutting to the chase as usual. ‘You're not ill, so far as I know. If you can wait till tomorrow, I'll get my own solicitor to-’
‘No, it has to be today. I'll explain in a minute. Thomas has said we can use his study for a few minutes, but I've got to finish clearing up first.’
‘Ellie!’ Jean was looking thunderous.
‘Coming,’ said Ellie. ‘Aunt Drusilla, could you ask Roy if he'd stay to be a witness? Oh, and I suppose Felicity too? She won't have anywhere else to go.’
Aunt Drusilla directed her eyes towards the pair, and nodded. Ellie darted back to her duties, confident that the required witnesses would be on hand when she had finished putting everything away and swept the floor. She wasn't terribly surprised when Rose came to help her, even though she was wearing her
best suit and a really good pair of shoes. Rose loved good shoes.
‘Thank you, dear Rose,’ said Ellie.
Rose - the meekest of people - replied that she was surprised at Ellie allowing Jean to push her around.
‘I've done enough pushing around this week,’ said Ellie, thinking of how this had all gone back to her getting cross with Marco. ‘It's got me into a lot of trouble.’
Ellie had imagined that she could just scribble her will down in a few lines on a piece of paper and be done with it, but it didn't work out like that. For one thing, she had an audience of Thomas, Aunt Drusilla and Rose, plus Roy and Felicity.
Felicity was still talking non-stop. ‘… and then I realized that if he's going to take that woman into his bed, he won't want me hanging around any longer and …’
By this time Roy was trying to disengage himself from her. Aunt Drusilla took pity on him.
‘Felicity, come and sit here by me. Now, what's all this about your husband wanting to kill you for the insurance?’
Sixteen
Thomas had unearthed a will form from his desk. ‘Ellie, I suggest you draft it out first on some scrap paper, and then write it up on the actual form.’
‘I repeat,’ said Aunt Drusilla, ‘why the haste?’
Ellie seated herself at Thomas's desk and reached for some scrap paper. ‘Diana has sold her interest in my house to Sir Arthur, who apparently wants to tear it down - and next door, too - and build a block of flats. Backing on to the Green, the site would be worth a mint.’
Miss Quicke nodded. ‘Why do you think that puts you in danger?’
Ellie tried to do two things at once, to explain why, and to draft her will. She didn't think she did either very well, but with Felicity filling in some details, Miss Quicke seemed satisfied. ‘Very well. You'll leave your half of the house to …?’
‘Kate,’ said Ellie. ‘Because she's been better than a daughter to me, and I'm extremely fond of her. If I leave her my share of the house, she'll be in a better position to see Sir Arthur off. I'm not leaving anything to Diana, or little Frank.’
‘Sensible,’ nodded Miss Quicke. ‘What about the house I live in, including Roy's converted garage? They belong to you, remember.’
Ellie stared at her. ‘I hadn't thought. There's all the money my husband left me, as well, and the trust fund which I set up to benefit good causes.’
Miss Quicke nodded. ‘The trust fund is safe; the trustees will simply need to appoint someone else in your place when you die. The rest of your money you'd better leave to the trust itself to carry on the good works.’
‘With some for Rose, of course. And your big house … to you, dear Aunt.’
‘Not to me?’ Roy, trying to smile.
His mother tapped his arm. ‘No, dear boy. Not after you've allowed Sir Arthur to tie you into knots. I haven't got to the bottom of that affair yet, but I will. And don't interrupt; people like him eat people like you for breakfast. I myself will make a new will tomorrow. I'll put everything in trust for you, Roy - apart from one or two legacies, one to Rose in particular.’
‘Mother,’ protested Roy. But subsided. Rose went pink, but said nothing.
Felicity put up her hand to speak, just like a small child in class. ‘Do you think I should make a will too? I've got one or two pieces of jewellery that my grandmother left me, and the car, of course. Not much else, I'm afraid.’
‘Of course,’ said Roy, chewing his thumbnail. ‘Everyone should make a will, really. I suppose I ought to as well. If I ever get free of Sir Arthur.’
Thomas put his hand over the will form, so that Ellie couldn't write. ‘May I make a suggestion? If you name Kate as your heir, won't it put her in danger too? And your aunt? Especially if Diana thinks she's going to inherit something from her.’
‘She isn't,’ said Miss Quicke. ‘But you've got a point.’ She applied her mind to the problem. ‘I suggest Ellie leaves her whole estate to the trust fund. Even Sir Arthur can't arrange fatal accidents for an entire board of trustees. When the man's been neutralized, Ellie can make another will.’
Everyone nodded.
Ellie began to copy out what they'd decided. Her hand wanted to tremble, but she wouldn't allow it to do so. She'd get cramp, holding the pen so tightly. ‘I need to get a copy to Sir Arthur this afternoon. And Diana.’
‘Be my guest,’ said Thomas, taking the cover off a photocopier in the corner. ‘Fax machine here, too. Where is he likely to be this afternoon? In the country? At home in London? At his office? We could fax him to all those places. Where can we find the numbers?’
Felicity put up her hand again. ‘I'm good at remembering numbers. I never need to keep an address book. I can operate a fax machine. I used to do it all the time when I was working.’
‘Amazing,’ said Miss Quicke, speaking for all of them.
Ellie read over what she'd written. ‘Roy, will you and Thomas witness my signature?’ She signed, and they witnessed her signature.
Ellie handed the will form over to Felicity. ‘The sooner he accepts he's been misled by Diana, the better. Then, perhaps, we'll all have some peace.’
‘Unless,’ said Felicity, going pink, ‘he's already sent someone out to kill us. Before he found out that Diana's cheated him, I mean.’
Silence.
Thomas gave a great sigh. ‘I'm afraid she's right. Until we can get him to acknowledge he's been sold a pup, we ought to take some elementary precautions. ‘I'd better chaperone Ellie around this afternoon.’
Felicity was wringing her hands. ‘Oh dear, and me, too? I just dread what he's going to say! I mean, he relies on me to look after the house, so what will he say when he finds out that I didn't go home last night? And I have to pop in to see Mummy this afternoon, or she'll get into a state. She gets in a terrible fret when I miss a day, and sometimes when I go she says I haven't been for ages, though I was there only the day before.’
The girl's muddled thinking seemed to bemuse Roy. ‘I'll take you round to see her. You'll be safe with me.’ Though he didn't sound too convinced of that. Neither did anyone else.
‘It would be best if we stuck together,’ said Thomas. ‘Felicity can come with us to see Mrs Dawes, and then we'll all go to visit your mother. After that, we'll see.’
Felicity was handling the photocopier as to the manner born, which surprised Ellie, who'd written the girl off as inefficiency itself. Perhaps, if Felicity ever got clear of Sir Arthur, she might one day be able to hold down an office job somewhere.
Meanwhile, Ellie looked for Chris Talbot's card, on which he'd written his mobile number. She hadn't found her own mobile yet, so she asked Thomas if she could use his landline. As Felicity was using the fax machine, he handed her his mobile instead. Ellie punched in the numbers.
‘Yes, Mrs Quicke?’ He sounded strained, not quite at ease.
‘You asked me to keep in touch. I'm faxing a copy of a new will I've made to Sir Arthur, and once he's read it, I imagine I'll be safe. Do you know how negotiations in the City are going?’
‘As well as can be expected.’
‘Is anything the matter?’ Cautiously.
‘My son, Julian. He's taken a turn for the worse. It's more than just concussion. They're operating now.’
Ellie was shocked. ‘I'll pray for him.’
‘Thank you. And Felicity? Have you managed to see her?’
‘Here with me. We're going to see her mother later on. We'll be well protected.’
‘Ah. Thank you. I must go. Tell Felicity … no, I can't do this now. I'll speak to you again later.’
Ellie handed Thomas back his phone, and repeated what Chris Talbot had said to the others. Everyone looked thoughtful, and Roy said it didn't sound too good, did it? Especially needing to operate on a Sunday.
Thomas said, ‘Ellie offered to pray for him. I suggest that we all take a minute to think about him, in silence. And his family. And ask God to look after him.’
The fax machine bleeped and everyone
jumped. But then they all did as Thomas had suggested. Even - Ellie peeked with one eye - Miss Quicke seemed to be following Thomas's lead.
‘Right,’ said Thomas, when they all began to stir. ‘Let's see how we can organize this. I have to be back at six, ready for evensong. Suppose Roy takes his mother and Rose back to their house, while I chauffeur Ellie and Felicity around.’
Rose put up her hand. Felicity's influence was beginning to spread. ‘Suppose I make supper for everyone at about half past seven at our place?’
‘Bless you, my dear,’ said Thomas. ‘But there are rather too many of us. No, we couldn't possibly impose.’
Miss Quicke cut him short. She was the only person Ellie knew who could cut Thomas short, but she did it. ‘Nonsense. Rose is one of those people you were talking about this morning. She's only happy when she's looking after other people. She's a freezer full of food, far more than I can ever manage to eat, and it pleases her deeply to see clean plates. Roy will take us back and we'll put our heads together over the plans for rebuilding the vicarage, while Rose enjoys herself in the kitchen.’
Felicity said, ‘Oh, do you like cooking too? I like cooking, but I'm hopeless at sorting out what wines go with what. Arthur does all that …’ Her voice trailed away and she looked miserable. Roy patted her on her shoulder, but made no move to keep her at his side while Thomas efficiently chivvied him and the two older ladies out of the house.
‘Food first,’ said Thomas, when the others had disappeared into Roy's car. ‘I'll make sandwiches for us three, and then we'll be on the road ourselves.’ He led the way to his antiquated kitchen, and with his usual efficiency built substantial sandwiches while directing Ellie to make them a big pot of tea. He was, of course, right to think they needed sustenance. Ellie felt much better when she'd eaten. Even Felicity managed to eat a reasonable amount. Thomas cleaned up the crumbs and led them out to the garage, which housed a surprisingly stylish new car.
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