A Village Deception (Turnham Malpas 15)

by Shaw, Rebecca

  ‘Go with him, Harry. Take care. Here’s a torch.’ She fumbled in the glove compartment and handed him a thumping great torch, big enough to light a football ground.

  Harry followed Zack down the path to the main door. Zack quietly tried the door, only to find it had already been unlocked. He turned the heavy iron latch and softly stepped inside. Had the door been left open by the flower ladies or was it someone with illicit access to the key?

  Harry followed closely behind him, sniffing the unaccustomed smell of an old church: the slight perfume of flowers, the definite aroma of furniture polish, and the strange, almost sad, smell of a very old stone building. Zack could have found his way without the torch, but Harry switched it on for fear he should stumble over something or other.

  Zack turned to look at Harry and put his finger to his lips. Harry nodded. The vestry door was very slightly ajar, just enough for Zack to slip his fingers inside to push it open and surprise the intruder. There stood Peter.

  ‘Heavens above, sir, you’ve given me a shock! We saw the light and came for a look-see. Everything OK, is it?’

  Peter, equally shocked by their silent arrival, agreed that yes it was. ‘I came in for some papers I needed and, for the life of me, when I got home I couldn’t remember turning the lights off so I came back to check. Then I stood looking at the safe, thinking about our church silver and I wondered if, in fact, we should sell it. We do need the money.’

  Harry swore that Zack’s hair stood on end, he was so horrified. The safe was big and newish-looking, and thoroughly out of place in such an old building.

  ‘Sell the silver! My word, they’ll never agree to that! Never. Over my dead body. We all love it. No, no. That won’t do.

  Not at all.’

  ‘But you tell me, what does it contribute to the worship of God in real terms? It only comes out four times a year and then we lock it away. Think what we could do with the money. It’s almost akin to vanity to keep it.’

  ‘It’s too precious to us all. I love getting it out, polishing it, seeing it shine, and knowing some of it’s over three hundred years old. What other church as small as ours is as lucky as us? Eh? None, I bet. I swear some of ’em come special on the days when they know it’s on display. No, sir, it won’t do. It will not do. The village will go mad. I can’t begin to imagine what they’ll all say when this comes out. I wouldn’t like to be in your shoes, not for anything.’

  ‘Think of the insurance money we would save every year. It’s so costly to keep it.’

  Peter asked Harry what he thought. ‘Well, sir, I haven’t got an opinion on it, being someone just passing through, so to speak. I can see your point, that it contributes nothing to God, but if it’s something special to the village …’ Hell’s bells! What was he doing giving opinions on church silver? He must be going mad. Harry then wondered just how special it really was in money terms.

  Peter took Harry’s comment very seriously indeed. ‘I’ll think about that.’

  Their conversation was interrupted by Marie’s arrival in the vestry. ‘My word! I thought you’d all been murdered. It’s late. Are we going home now?’

  So Peter switched off the lights and they trailed out into the night. Peter said, ‘You’re probably right to be horrified, Zack. It’s a silly idea, I suppose. God bless the three of you. Goodnight.’

  Harry got back in the car thinking Peter’s blessing was a first for him, Marie was looking forward to her favourite bedtime drink, and Zack was still seething about Peter’s plans for the old silver. There’d be hell to pay.

  Harry was still pondering on the church silver. Three hundred years old. The village up in arms. It must be something special. But then he shrugged his shoulders. Only another week and he’d be gone, driving into the sunset, never to be seen again. It wasn’t in his nature to put down roots and three weeks was quite long enough for him. Then he thought about Venetia. It was all purely physical, of course. Not the real thing, he knew that, but my God she fascinated him. Even so, he’d still break the bonds and be gone.

  But fate had other plans for Harry, of which he was blissfully unaware.

  Chapter 8

  Jimbo had made plans, long before the unexpected demise of Ken Allardyce the accountant, to take Harriet on holiday. Tom was to do extra days as Jimbo wouldn’t be there to relieve him, and Tom would be in charge of making sure all the money from the store and from the internet sales would be carefully counted and recorded before taking it to the bank in Culworth every day. They hadn’t had a holiday together for years, Harriet and himself, so Jimbo had decided that, damn it all, they deserved it. Now he was in a fix.

  He knew Harriet was fretting about the holiday, though she hadn’t mentioned it to him. One morning he made up his mind. What could go wrong? If Tom counted and recorded the takings from the store, and Harry did the same for the internet sales and bookings for the events he had organised, and he made sure that there was nothing important in the catering department at the Old Barn while they were away, and Harry took responsibility for taking the money to the bank each day because it was easier for him to take the time out to get into Culworth rather than Tom, it would all go like clockwork. Then he remembered the signing of cheques because bills always had to be paid and … Blast it. The wages had to be done every week. It wasn’t easy because of the catering staff like Pat Jones, who worked odd hours here and there. He drove straight round to the Old Barn to see Harry, bursting in through the door as though his and Harriet’s plane was about to taxi down the runway.

  ‘Now, see here, Harry.’ Jimbo outlined his plans, asking what Harry thought as he finished.

  ‘Well now, Jimbo. I am almighty flattered that you feel so confident in my ability to manage all this, but you don’t know me from Adam. I could be the biggest rogue under the sun and you did say you always handled the money …’

  ‘I know all that.’

  ‘Well, how about sleeping on it and then asking me again? Don’t get me wrong, I am more than willing to do it, and capable of doing it too. After all, you know what I think about figures and how they deserve to be accurate. I don’t mind working extra hours to make sure it all goes smoothly—’

  ‘Oh shut up, Harry! Sometimes you have to take the bull by the horns and now’s your moment. If I don’t get off on this holiday, it could be divorce in capital letters ten feet high and I’m not having that. Desperate problems need desperate solutions, and this is it. I shall spend one whole afternoon working it all out. You’re a bright chap, look how you got the whole system under your belt inside a couple of hours. Will you do it? Please?’

  Harry fiddled with his pen, adjusted a few papers on the desk, looked out of the window, and said, ‘It would please me more than anything for you to go home to think about all this overnight and then tell me tomorrow if you are of the same mind. I know I’m capable of doing it all, and I’ll be glad to get my teeth into something more challenging, but I want you to be sure. After all, I’m leaving Turnham Malpas next week, because I can’t afford the B&B much longer. I’ve got to find somewhere else, you see. Somewhere cheaper.’

  ‘Ah! Right, I might have the answer to that. I’ll be back tomorrow morning to see you. I’ll think about it overnight, like you said. I know Harriet will be delighted. I’ve sorted Fran. She’s going to live with my mother while we’re away. They get on really well. See you!’ And Jimbo hurtled out of the door, heading straight to his mother’s cottage on the green.

  ‘Jimbo, dear! How nice, and in the middle of the day, too. You look as though you have something on your mind. What is it?’

  ‘Sit down. I’ve a proposition to put to you.’

  ‘A proposition! You’re not going to ask me to take over the business while you and Harriet are away? Because frankly, I can’t. I hate to admit it, but I’m past such jollifications.’

  ‘Oh! Right. No, it isn’t that. It’s Jimmy’s cottage. You know, next door but one.’

  ‘What about it?’

  ‘Is
it ready for occupation by a normal person?’

  ‘I resent that remark. He was his own man, was Jimmy Glover, I do admit. But he was a dear friend of mine, and I don’t like to hear you speak about the dead like that. You know he handed his cottage over to me about a year before he died. All official, through the solicitor and such—’

  ‘You never said.’

  ‘I don’t tell you everything, just like you don’t tell me everything. Anyway, what about it?’

  ‘So you’re not waiting for probate because it’s already yours?’

  Katherine nodded. ‘Well?’

  ‘So I could rent it out for a while, if you were happy with that?’

  ‘Who’s going to live there?’

  ‘Well, it’s Harry Dickinson.’

  ‘Oh, him. He’s a nice chap, very much the gentleman. Why?’

  So Jimbo told her the whole story, emphasising how much it would help him to go away thoroughly relaxed about everything being in good hands while he was absent.

  His mother didn’t answer him immediately. When she did, he was a mite surprised. ‘You’re leaving all the money side in Tom and Harry’s care? Tom, yes, you’ve known him for years and can rely on his honesty. But Harry? Have you got references for him?’

  ‘No. But I know he’s as honest as the day is long. I’m convinced of it. Believe me, I know. He’s astute with business matters and so far he hasn’t given me one moment of doubt. In fact, he’s told me to think about it overnight and make sure I’m sure. He’s OK, Mother. Believe me.’

  ‘I shall want rent. I’ve put a new bathroom in and a new kitchen for Jimmy, and I’m glad I did. After all, he hadn’t the money to do it himself after he got too old to run his car as a taxi. We sat laughing about his taxi adventures for hours, believe me. Such fun he was.’

  Briefly Jimbo thought she was going to cry and he’d never seen her cry in his life.

  ‘We all know you did. It caused some scandalous remarks, you know. I never could see why you got on with him so well.’

  ‘I don’t know either. But we did. We were both lonely, you see, and I put up with his untidy, careless ways, and he put up with me being bossy. Which I was. Which I am. So if Harry’s wanting somewhere more permanent, he can rent Jimmy’s Cottage. In fact, I think I’ll have a plaque made and call it Jimmy’s Cottage. They’ll all like that.’

  ‘They will. I’ll tell Harry tomorrow that the cottage is his to rent and that he can move in as soon as he’s finished at Marie’s. Will he be short of anything for the cottage?’

  ‘No. It’s all been cleaned out. I got a firm in Culworth to come and do it. There’s even bed linen. He can move in when he likes. In fact I shall also present him with master Sykes as a gift until he leaves Turnham Malpas. It’ll save me having to look after him. This walking lark might be a good idea, but it’s too much for me. He runs for miles, and won’t come back to me when I call him. I just hope to God your trust in Harry will not be abused.’

  ‘Do you know something I don’t?’

  ‘No. It’s just not like you to be so trusting with someone you barely know.’

  ‘I’m in a fix. Harriet and I need this holiday together. It’s all right being in business but there comes a time … Well, anyway, I mustn’t let her down. Thanks for helping me out. Good night, Mother.’

  ‘Give me a kiss, you dear boy. Go away and have a wonderful time. That wife of yours certainly deserves it.’

  ‘I know she does, and has for some time. I feel sorry, Mother, that you weren’t able to have such a loving marriage as Harriet and I. I expect Dad regrets his itchy feet and having three sons the wrong side of the blanket. How you both kept that from me when I was growing up, I shall never know. But thank you anyway.’

  As Jimbo left he turned and smiled at her. He reminded her so much of the husband she’d loved that she had to force herself to smile back at him.

  After he’d closed her front door, his mother couldn’t hold back her tears of gratitude for having the lifelong delight of a son she’d adored since the first moment she laid eyes on him. ‘I’m turning into a daft old woman and it’s got to stop. I loved his father no matter what he did to hurt me, and I shall love him till my dying day, the damned, cheating liar that he was.’ She had two gin and tonics before she went to bed to make sure she slept and didn’t waste any more tears on that wastrel she’d called a husband.

  So Harry told Marie the following night that he would be leaving, how sad he was, and how he’d miss her lovely breakfasts. ‘You see, Marie, I honestly can’t afford to stay here any longer. No, no, I don’t want to move. It’s so lovely here with you and Zack, but I must. Jimbo has offered me a cottage at a low rent so you can see it’s a good opportunity to save some money and I need to do that. Cars don’t run on hot air. So I’m going to be living in the cottage next but one to Grandmama Charter-Plackett. I’m told there’s a virtually brand-new bathroom and kitchen and it’s all furnished properly so I will have really fallen on my feet. I hope I’m not leaving you in the lurch.’

  Marie dabbed her eyes. ‘That’s Jimmy’s old cottage, it’s very nice. I’m being silly, you only promised two weeks when you first came and it’s been longer than that. It’s been lovely having you, but you can’t turn down such a good offer. Low rent and more work. Good for you. When will you move?’

  ‘I’ll pack up tonight and move after work tomorrow. If that’s all right with you?’

  Marie wagged her finger at him. ‘You’ll have to behave yourself, living near to Mrs Charter-Plackett. She’s a bit of a stickler. She won’t stand any nonsense and says what she thinks. So watch it with Venetia …’

  Harry looked horrified.

  ‘Don’t look so horrified, we all know what’s going on. Just take care, that’s all.’

  ‘Sorry.’

  ‘What is there to be sorry about? Jeremy seems to take it all in his stride.’

  Harry looked crestfallen. ‘It embarrasses me.’

  ‘Well, don’t let it. You’ve a right to some fun in your life and, if she’s willing, which she is … Anyway, there’s been more than you, believe me. There was this chap who came to the village and—’

  Harry backed away from her.‘No, Marie, don’t! I don’t wish to know.’

  ‘Ah! Well, perhaps you’re right. Best not.’

  That was the part of Venetia he couldn’t bear. That he wasn’t the first. Mind you, he knew that the first time, so it was no good deluding himself. There was just that something about her, the freedom she felt to do anything she wanted. He liked that, it gave him such a feeling of liberation when he was with her. She answered something in him he’d never known he possessed. Now he had a cottage all to himself, Venetia, the pub, and a job. What more could a man ask for?

  So the following night, Harry moved to his new home, which was fully equipped. It even included Sykes the dog, who’d appeared accompanied by Grandmama Charter-Plackett with his basket, his food bowls, a cardboard box full of his toys and a few days’ supply of dog food.

  ‘I know you didn’t know you were getting a dog too, but you would be doing me a great favour if you took him on. He’s too much for me. I only took him in because of my friendship with Jimmy. You know, this is primarily a business arrangement which helps Jimbo and also helps you. So I shall expect the rent every Friday morning through my letter box or you can pay monthly, first of the month, if you prefer.’ Grandmama Charter-Plackett was trying to weigh him up as she cocked her head to wait for the answer. Yes, like Jimbo, she was sure he was OK. Maybe Jimbo had made the right decision. He’d also taken the idea of the dog very well indeed.

  ‘Every Friday morning would be best for me. And I quite like the idea of the dog.’

  ‘If there’s anything missing, like a vital chair or something, let me know. I don’t think there is. I’ve thrown out masses of Jimmy’s rubbish. He was a terrible hoarder, but lovely with it.’ Her smile was sad and Harry felt sad for her though he knew, being the woman she was, he mustn’t
allow her to see his sympathy.

  Harry looked round the living room and felt as though he’d come home at last. ‘It all looks lovely, you’ve done a great job clearing it out. I’m sure I shall be very happy here. Thank you for your kindness.’

  ‘Not at all. Malcolm the milkman calls every day, but I’ve put a pint in the fridge to tide you over. Just leave a note in the empty bottle and he’ll leave whatever you need. He comes by at about eight o’clock nowadays. It used to be six, but there’s been a big new estate built and he arrives here later because he goes there first.’ She left swiftly, as though standing in Jimmy’s old cottage was becoming too much for her. Harry finished unloading his belongings from his car, parked it at the end of the garden where Jimmy had made a hard standing for his taxi all those years ago, and went inside to settle himself in.

  The TV was terrible, but he didn’t watch it much, although it would be nice to have a decent one to look at. The kitchen was marvellous. It was small, but absolutely everything he needed was packed in it. Even a tumble drier. The bathroom was minute too, but bang up to date, and the bedroom had obviously been newly kitted out because the bed linen, carpet, walls and pictures all toned with each other. It was definitely not the stuff an old bachelor would have had. Altogether it was wonderful. As for Sykes, he ambled into his basket as though he’d never been away, surveyed the living room, then curled into a comfortable ball and fell asleep. It was as if he was glad to be home.

  It was almost dark when there was a knock at the door. A visitor already? Harry didn’t answer for a moment, but as he got up from the depths of the easy chair and went towards the door, the flap of the letterbox was pushed open and a voice whispered, ‘It’s me, Harry.’

  And there she stood, laughing at him. He opened his arms wide and she rushed into them, kicking the door closed behind her as she grabbed him.

  Sykes, startled awake by the knocking on the door, observed them kissing as though they hadn’t seen each other for weeks. Breathless, they broke apart and grinned at each other. ‘Thank you, Jimbo!’ said Venetia.