‘Thank you, Grandmama Charter-Plackett.’
‘It’s very cosy. It used to be a dump when Jimmy lived here. What’s the kitchen like?’ Venetia was hugely impressed. ‘You’ve landed on your feet, haven’t you, Harry? I’m going upstairs to see the bathroom. I’m very particular about bathrooms.’ Harry followed her upstairs, guessing it wouldn’t only be the bathroom she’d want to see.
He was right. The bedroom got a gold star, as did the bathroom. ‘You have to admit, Grandmama has taste. This is all her doing.’
The mention of her name reminded Harry that he needed to be a little circumspect. ‘Did you walk here?’
‘Walk? Of course not. My car’s in the pub car park so no one knows where I am. Don’t worry.’ She kicked off her shoes on the landing and began undressing slowly, her eyes fixed on Harry. She made an elaborate performance of removing her clothes and Harry watched, totally fascinated.
‘We can’t waste a lovely bedroom like this, can we, Harry darling?’ She took his hand and led him in, undoing his shirt buttons as they walked. Finally, Venetia began … Then the doorbell rang.
Venetia put a finger to her lips and they stood, skin to skin, waiting. But the doorbell rang again and then someone shouted through the letterbox, just as Venetia had done.
‘Harry, it’s us! We’ve brought a pack of beer for a house-warming. Open up!’
Harry rapidly threw his clothes back on again and raced down the narrow, twisting stairs. ‘Just coming,’ he shouted.
On the doorstep stood Willie and Sylvia, Don and Vera, Maggie from next door, Paddy Cleary and Zack.
Paddy said, ‘Oh! Your shirt’s unbuttoned, you were getting ready for bed. Well, hard cheese. It’s still early and we’re coming in.’ And they did, and they didn’t leave till a quarter to eleven. They got through the twelve cans of beer with ease and did lots of laughing and leg pulling. Altogether, they had a riotous time.
Twice, Venetia decided to go down but changed her mind. By half past ten, she had all her clothes back on again as she was feeling so cold and, by the time the ones downstairs decided they really must leave, all appetite for Harry had withered away and passion had turned to a steaming temper.
She stormed downstairs once she’d given them all a chance to disperse and said, ‘You could have got rid of them sooner.’
‘How could I? They’d have known something was up.’
‘I doubt it, they’re all thick.’
‘Not so thick as to not be suspicious of me going to bed at half past nine. I felt such a fool.’
‘You felt a fool, what about me? Anyway, in another ten minutes, when the car park’s cleared, I’m going too.’
Harry ran a finger along her well-tanned forearm. ‘There’s time?’
‘Sorry, but no.’
Harry was incredibly tempted to laugh at the thought of how they’d almost been caught, but Venetia in a temper was an unknown quantity to him and he couldn’t risk it. She might never want him again and that would never do. After all, the only reason he’d taken the job with Jimbo was Venetia and how he felt about her. ‘Goodnight, then. Shall I come for a swim tomorrow after work?’
‘Can you possibly spare the time?’
‘Anything is possible where you’re concerned.’ He smiled and, ever so slightly, she began to melt. But no. She wasn’t staying.
‘See you tomorrow then.’ Venetia didn’t want to kiss him so he had to let her go.
So the following morning, Harry left on foot for the office, his swimming things in his rucksack and Sykes by his side. The morning was clear, and promised to be bright and Sykes delighted him by racing about once they’d gone through the little wicket gate in the churchyard and were crossing the estate. He was very willing to sleep under Harry’s computer desk and only occasionally went to keep an eye on the estate through the enormous window that was Harry’s delight. The day sped by until, at two forty-five, Harry got ready to collect the money from the store and drive into Culworth to bank it. Today was his dummy run day and he had decided that, when he got back to Turnham Malpas, he’d report to Jimbo, just to make sure he’d got everything right. There was yesterday’s takings, cheques to do with events booked for the Old Barn, and cash to be taken out for paying the casual staff who weren’t included on the pay roll.
Sykes went with him to the bank and, as he behaved so impeccably, Harry decided he would take him every day. He meticulously reported back to Jimbo, going through everything to such an extent that Jimbo almost lost his rag. ‘Look, you don’t need to prove anything to me. I know what you’re doing and you know what you’re doing so it’s all OK. Go!’
Then, next on the agenda was his swim with Venetia, something he’d been looking forward to since first light. What to do about Sykes? Leave him in the car or let him run about Home Park? He decided on letting him run about. A risk, but not too much of one.
Venetia had recovered her eagerness for him. All her bad temper at last night’s disaster had obviously gone and she was as thrilling and satisfying as ever. When it was time to leave, Harry went outside to call Sykes but he didn’t appear. So he put his wet things in the car and walked about a little, calling Sykes and enjoying a closer view of the estate.
Barry, the estate joiner, met up with him down by the Old Barn. ‘Barry, you don’t happen to have seen Sykes, do you? Old Jimmy’s dog? He’s living with me in Jimmy’s cottage and I let him run about for a while but he isn’t coming when I call.’
‘We all heard about your stroke of luck. Nice little cottage for a bachelor. No, I haven’t seen him. Sorry.’ Barry noticed the wet hair. ‘Walk up to the big house for a swim after work, do you?’ There was a leering kind of grin on Barry’s face and instantly Harry knew that Barry knew what was happening after the swim, and probably half the village did, too.
He decided to laugh it off by saying, ‘Sitting at a desk all day, I need to keep fit.’
‘Oh, naturally. You’re lucky to have permission. Old Fitch, who owns the estate, is very careful who he lets have the run of the place.’
Barry’s short speech was loaded with unsaid inferences but Harry ignored them and said, ‘So, you don’t happen to know any of Sykes’s favourite places, do you?’
‘Sorry, no. You’ll be all right just so long as old Fitch doesn’t see him. He doesn’t like dogs. In fact, he’d have all pet dogs annihilated if he had his way. Working dogs are OK but not pet ones. Be seeing you.’ Barry climbed into his old van with a wicked grin on his face. What he’d said about dogs was true, but he had rather exaggerated the matter. He put his foot down and powered off to the Garden House where he’d lived with Pat, her Dad and Michelle, ever since their marriage. He was bursting to tell Pat they were right in what they suspected about Venetia and her latest fella. Eventually Harry gave up the search for Sykes, deciding that perhaps he had actually gone home, having grown tired of waiting.
But Sykes wasn’t there. He knocked on Grandmama’s door but she hadn’t seen him all day. ‘He does sit in the church sometimes, he always has done. He used to belong to a vicar before Jimmy adopted him so he might have gone there. Let me know if you don’t find him, he doesn’t normally go AWOL.’
So Harry wandered across to the church, reluctant to say the least. He walked in cautiously, his sandals making not a sound on the stone floor. And there was Sykes. He was curled up asleep on a flat bit of a tomb which, apparently, was the last resting place for two long-gone members of the Templeton family. Seeing as there was no one but himself in the church, Harry decided to have a look round. He looked upwards to the high-timbered roof and took in the regimental banners hanging tattered and torn in the roof space. He studied the wonderful stained glass window behind the altar, then stood in the pulpit pretending to be addressing a congregation until he thought he heard a noise in a side chapel. He rushed down the three steps leading up to the pulpit and went to see who was there. Peering through the rood screen he could just see Peter kneeling before the small altar making the si
gn of the cross and then rising to his feet.
Not him. He must avoid him at all costs. Out. Out. Out. But he was too late.
‘Hello there, Harry! Looking for Sykes? He’s been here half an hour or so, sleeping in his favourite spot.’
Harry pretended to be surprised. ‘Oh! Sorry, I didn’t realise anyone was around. He’s been in the Old Barn with me all day and then, when I wanted to come home, he’d disappeared. I’ve taken him on for Mrs Charter-Plackett.’
‘So I’ve heard. How’s the job going, Harry?’
‘Absolutely fine. I’d never meant to stay, but somehow I am. I’ve been lucky.’
‘Jimbo’s a good employer. He’s been very upset about poor Ken Allardyce, as you know. Of course you never met him, but I understand that he was a lovely chap. He wouldn’t say boo to a goose but he was a genius when it came to figures.’
‘I must say, I haven’t found any mistakes in anything that he’s done. I just hope I’m as good.’ So far he’d managed not to look Peter straight in the eye but this couldn’t go on.
‘The trouble with Turnham Malpas is that it gets to you, it makes you content and you can’t get away. It happened to me.’
Harry laughed but he couldn’t think of a satisfactory response. ‘Well, better be off, get Sykes out of your way. Funny him liking to sit in church, he must enjoy the peace and quiet.’
Peter’s reply was too frank for Harry’s liking. ‘You don’t want to sit in church though do you, Harry? Anything but, I’d guess.’ He studied Harry’s face while he waited for his reply.
Harry decided to speak the truth because he knew Peter would know if he lied. ‘Never gone to church and not likely to. No use for it. Sorry.’
‘One day, perhaps, you won’t be able to help yourself because you’ll need the church, desperately. What is it soldiers say? “There are no atheists in foxholes.” If you do need a church one day, it will be here for you, Harry.’ Peter smiled, then stroked Sykes as he passed him and left.
Harry, furious at what Peter had said, pushed Sykes off the tomb and, before he’d got his balance, gave him a shove with his foot to hurry him up. ‘Let me get out of here. Don’t you get lost in here again. Come on.’
Mrs Charter-Plackett must have been watching from her window because as Harry passed she opened her door. ‘I was right then, he was in church.’
‘Yes, he was. Can’t stop. Got lots of things to do.’
‘I didn’t intend keeping you, believe me. Good afternoon.’ She couldn’t imagine why he’d thrown his toys out of the pram, it was most unlike him.
Chapter 9
That evening in the bar, heads were bent together around the table. They were discussing the house-warming party over at Harry’s. They couldn’t help it because they all had opinions on the matter and needed to air them.
Maggie started the discussion off by saying, ‘I don’t care what you say, I smelled her perfume. I know I’m right.’
‘Well,’ whispered Sylvia, ‘I didn’t. What’s it smell like?’
‘Oriental, like. Musk or sandalwood or something. I definitely smelled it, say what you like.’
‘But we were there for well over an hour. Surely she couldn’t have been hiding all that time.’
‘Maybe she’d already been and gone?’ Sylvia said.
Paddy declared that they must have interrupted something, him with his shirt buttons undone and it being only half past nine. Well, maybe nearly a quarter to ten.
Zack spoke for the first time and, of course, he spoke in defence of Harry. ‘I think it’s disgusting, you all talking like this about him. It’s absolutely thoughtless. For a start, he’s got the right to do what he wants under his own roof and secondly, he wouldn’t, he’s not that kind of person.’
Maggie patted his hand. ‘I know you’re very fond of him, but I walked down Shepherd’s Hill with him when he lived with you and he admitted he’d been swimming. I knew he had because his hair was wet.’
‘What does that mean?’ asked Zack.
‘Well, like I said, he’d been swimming.’
‘Just because he went swimming didn’t mean he’d been … you know … with that Venetia. He’s too nice a chap to be interested in a tart like her.’
‘Now who’s being thoughtless? Calling her a tart?’ Willie commented. The outside door banged in the wind and Willie looked up. ‘Eh up! Here he comes. Watch out.’
Zack shouted across to Harry, ‘Get your drink and come and sit with us. Tell us what it’s like living in your own cottage. Managing all right, are you, Harry?’
Harry gave him a thumbs up and nodded. He lingered a while talking to Alan Crimble the barman, hoping against hope that someone he knew would be in besides the gossiping crowd who’d ruined his first evening in Jimmy’s Cottage. Then he turned as though he was going over to sit with Zack when he spotted Peter and presumably his wife. He froze. No, no, that wouldn’t do. No more of him. Then he saw Tom sitting on his own and he decided he would be his target.
‘Evening, Tom. May I sit with you? Good day in the store today?’
‘Indeed you may.’ Tom pulled the other chair out for Harry and passed a beer mat to him. ‘Yes, a very good day. How are you feeling about being in charge of the money while Jimbo’s away? It’s only the second time since I’ve known him that he’s left and gone on holiday with Harriet. Usually they go away in turns. My Evie offered to have Fran but she’d already planned to stay with Grandmama. Get on with her all right, do you?’
‘I don’t really know, I’ve been there barely twenty-four hours. But she seems all right. For heaven’s sake, Tom, don’t forget to put the daily takings in the safe overnight, will you? I couldn’t bear it if we had a burglary.’
‘I cash up every night before I shut up shop, fill in the banking slip and put the lot in the safe. The keys go in my jacket pocket and home with me, along with the shop key. I always put the alarm on. I never forget.’
‘I’ve been thinking that perhaps it might be better if I banked the money in Culworth first thing the following morning rather than waiting until the afternoon. Otherwise, going just before the bank closes in the afternoon means that my afternoon is fragmented and I get nothing done. What do you think? The danger of theft would then be even less, wouldn’t it?’
‘You have a point. I wouldn’t alter the regime without speaking to Jimbo about it, though. But either he or I will let you know before he leaves. There’s got to be a complete understanding between you and I while he’s away otherwise ….’ Tom looked Harry straight in the face to make sure he understood and Harry nodded his agreement.
Tom downed the last of his drink and offered to get Harry another.
‘Thanks, that’s kind of you. Whisky, neat please.’
When Tom came back with their drinks, Harry commented, ‘It seems to me that everyone in the village knows exactly what everyone else is doing before they even know it themselves.’
‘Very well observed, that. On the other hand, if you’re in a fix they all turn their hand to doing something about it for you. Taken ill, out of work, and you’re inundated with offers of food and the like. Sykes OK with you, is he?’
‘Matter of fact, I told him I was going to the pub and he insisted on coming with me. At the moment he’s under the settle over there. He’s his own man is Sykes.’
‘Jimmy always sat at that table and Sykes used to hide under the settle, still as still, waiting for Jimmy to pass his pint down for him to have a drink.’
‘Dogs are all right in here then?’
‘Not really. Sykes is the exception because he’s so well behaved. He was in here with Jimmy the night he died. Sad that. Laughable though, looking at it another way. They were all shouting at Jimmy, telling him it was his turn to get the drinks in, only to find that he didn’t move. Sitting bolt upright in his chair he was. Willie said, “Stop kidding us, you’re not asleep. You’re just trying to avoid paying for the drinks.” Then Sylvia screamed and pointed at Jimmy, who had begun
to slowly keel over to one side. She went into a faint and they realised that Jimmy was as dead as a dodo. Anyway, Dr Harris was in with the rector and she went to examine him. She went white and said, “I’m sorry, but Jimmy has … Well, he’s … He’s died.” You should have heard the uproar. Out of respect, we all trooped out leaving, as you’d expect, poor Jimmy, Dr Harris and the rector waiting for the ambulance. Poor Georgie was in a right state. She didn’t work in the bar for three whole days, so upset she was.’
‘I see. It all happens here, doesn’t it?’
‘You’re right there. The tales I could tell, and I’ve lived here only what, ten years? Them what’s lived here all their lives could tell you a thing or two. Must go, Evie will be wondering where I am. A word of warning.’
Harry looked puzzled. ‘A word of warning about Evie, you mean?’
‘No, of course not. About that Venetia. Fickle she is. Very fickle.’
‘I don’t know why you’re telling me.’
‘Don’t pretend you don’t understand. We all know, even if you don’t. Which you must do. I’m just advising you to watch your step. Right?’ Tom tapped the side of his nose with his forefinger and winked at him. Then he waved goodnight to Dicky and left.
Harry fumed, downed his drink, and was about to leave when his mobile rang.
They all surreptitiously watched him nod his head once or twice and then switch it off. He leaped to his feet and called, ‘Sykes!’ To their surprise, Sykes popped out from under the settle, which was decidedly spooky and made them glance nervously at the empty chair they now called Jimmy’s chair. Then the two of them went out the door without so much as a goodnight.
All thoughts of Tom’s warning about Venetia went out of Harry’s head the moment he saw her arriving on foot at his front door the same time as he did. He quickly whisked her in, pushed Sykes out into the back garden, and went to sit beside her on the old sofa in the living room.
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