by Gloria Cook
Now it seemed to Dorrie that the sisters had been concocting a story to enable them to slip away from the village, probably by Esther declaring she would spend a healing winter abroad with Honoria, and neither would come back. By the time Camilla came down for the wedding the lady of Petherton would not be important enough for Camilla to seek gossip about. The reporter for the national newspaper had shunted the sisters’ plans urgently forward, in a different direction.
Dorrie expected she would hear from Honoria quite soon but she doubted (and hoped, of course, not wanting Esther to be really ill) that Esther would have gone anywhere near Harley Street.
Thirty-Four
Tilly ran into Dorrie’s open arms and sobbed on her shoulder. ‘Thank you so much for coming, Mrs Resterick. Finn and I are struggling to leave Petherton. We can’t believe Mrs Mitchelmore’s got cancer, that she’s never coming back.’
‘I know, dear, I find it hard to believe too.’ Dorrie stroked Tilly’s soft hair where it hung below her little felt hat. She smiled at Finn, standing on the gravelled path, holding Tilly’s small brown suitcase and few bags of belongings, while clearing his throat and wiping a tear from his eye.
Taking a mighty swallow he came towards them. ‘I was really fond of her. She was always very good to me. Mrs R, do you know how long she’s got? I’ve heard Mrs Sanders is taking her to Switzerland. Do you think the doctors there will know some sort of advanced treatment that will give her more time?’
‘We can hope and pray, Finn, but Mrs Sanders says Mrs Mitchelmore is being very brave and doesn’t want anyone to worry about her. Whatever happens she will be well looked after. Verity will be along soon in Jack’s five-seater to take you and me to Meadows House, Tilly. You’ll have a good position there.’
‘It will be lovely working with Cathy. Mrs Mitchelmore has generously paid me two months wages, and Mr Jack said I don’t have to start work straightaway, but I’d rather get stuck in, don’t like being idle and there’s lots of work going on in the house. Mrs Mitchelmore is such a kind lady, she’s given Mrs Teague and Ellery enough to retire on early and they’re going to share a cottage.’ Tilly moved a few steps away and stared at the shabby old house. ‘I wonder what will happen to this place now.’
‘I guess it will have a new owner eventually,’ Finn sighed.
‘But it won’t be the same, and Nanviscoe won’t be the same without Mrs Mitchelmore running the place so well.’ Dorrie summed up the feelings of the three.
‘Will you step up to the mark, Mrs R?’ Finn asked.
‘Oh, most definitely not, organizing and planning isn’t for me. I’d rather be available for others, if you know what I mean.’
‘Definitely do,’ Finn told her affectionately. ‘Hate to think how Mum and I and Eloise would have fared without you helping us from the start. Oh God though.’ He threw out another sigh. ‘It doesn’t seem right that Mrs Mitchelmore won’t be here for the opening of the village hall.’
‘I’m sure she’ll be thinking of us all on the day. Mrs Sanders says she’s arranged for the newspaper article to be sent to Mrs Mitchelmore, and that also Mrs Mitchelmore has written a little speech for Greg to read out on the day.’
‘So she’ll be there in a way, bless her,’ Tilly sniffed. ‘Well, better go to the gates. It’s very kind of Miss Verity to come and collect me. Finn is going on to the hall to help put up the opening bunting. Funny, you never know what’s going to happen in the course of a year, do you? Never thought I’d be working at Miss Verity’s bridal home and . . . and poor Mrs Mitchelmore . . .’ She shook her head and sobbed again.
Finn put the baggage into one arm and wrapped the other arm round her shoulders. ‘Don’t cry, Tilly. You’ll be closer to Merrivale from now on. Mum will be there when I’m away at the academy, and I’ll never let you down, not ever.’
Dorrie allowed them to walk on ahead of her, smiling in sweet emotion. Finn and Tilly didn’t know it yet but they would be linked together for always, soul mates. She could tell by the way they gazed deeply into each other’s eyes. They walked in synchronization ensuring their bodies kept touching. They were in line in every way.
The little company reached the gates. Someone was running towards them pell-mell, her hair flowing out behind her in a stream of tangles. It was Jenna. She was weeping as if in utter despair. ‘You’ve got to do something, Finn. Dad’s going to kill him!’
Verity drove wildly along the lanes and brought the car to a screeching halt outside The Orchards, making the tyres smell of acrid burning rubber. Denny’s mud-splattered van was parked skew-whiff across the lane, making it impossible for motorized traffic or horse and cart to pass, showing his anger and speed at getting here. Verity, Dorrie, Jenna, Finn and Tilly spilled out and hurried towards the cottage kitchen door. Shouting, shrieks and scuffles and thudding sounds took them running down through the back garden and into the leafy windfall-strewn apple orchard.
‘Dad!’ Jenna screamed hysterically at Denny, who was pounding Charlie Lawry’s chest with his fists. Charlie was equal in the fight and butted Denny hard in the guts. The men had been at it long enough for both to have suffered cuts and bruises. Dorrie grabbed Tilly to stop her rushing at the men to try tearing them apart. ‘Stop it! For heaven’s sake, stop! I don’t want this.’
On the other side of the battlers were Sam and Belle. ‘It’s too late for that, girl!’ Belle yelled in fury. ‘See what you’ve done? Get your beast of a father and yourself off our property.’
Hearing the aggressive interchange and needing to catch their breath, the two bloodied men staggered apart to the sides of their respective children.
On the way there Jenna had filled in the reason for Denny’s furious venture to The Orchards. Finn now loathed the gypsy-like beauty who had once filled his dreams, and now presented her visage as a gorgeous revengeful witch – no one must challenge her precious family no matter what rotten deeds they had committed. He bawled at her. ‘You can’t blame Jenna alone for this. Your cowardly bastard of a son got Jenna pregnant. Nothing would have happened if he hadn’t pressured her into it, that’s for sure.’
‘Oh, you know that, do you, criminal’s son?’ Belle hissed, advancing on Finn with her hands on her hips, while glancing antagonistically at all the Vercoes. Weeping and sobbing in anguished gulps, Jenna shook violently and Tilly joined Dorrie in holding her up.
Belle continued taking her venom out on Finn. ‘Who are you to judge? Tell me that. Not so long ago you looked at me with eyes filled with lust. Dir-ty lit-tle swine. How dare you? As soon as I knew I cut myself off from you. That’s the reason you don’t come here any more, do your girlfriend and your mother know that? My son says that girl was just as willing as he was. The reason why his bullish father is here on the warpath is because Sam doesn’t want to marry the girl. Sam told her he’d acknowledge the child and provide for it. He doesn’t love Jenna. He doesn’t want to settle down with her or anyone yet. He was honest with her. He knows he’s done wrong and will have to bear the brunt, but he has the wisdom to know a forced marriage would only make them both miserable in the end.’
Suddenly Sam charged at Finn. ‘You were trying to get at my mother? I’ll kill you!’ Before he could smash his fist across Finn’s face Finn raised his arms in defence and took the blow.
‘Please!’ Dorrie managed to make her plea cut through all the anger and malice. ‘This isn’t helping anyone. Can’t you see all this is just one of life’s occurrences? Finn had an intense schoolboy infatuation on Belle. Sam and Jenna have done what young people have done and regretted through the ages. It’s sad they won’t be getting married, but there it is. What good is fighting and fury going to do anyone? The facts aren’t going to change. There’s a baby involved in this, a baby that deserves to come safely into the world and to receive only love and care from its parents and both sets of grandparents. The baby will be related to the Lawrys and Vercoes. I suggest those involved calm down and go into, or back to, their homes. If a go-between
is needed you know where I am.’
No one moved or spoke, twitched a nerve or took a deep breath. Dorrie and Verity exchanged rueful looks. Then the soft snivels of Jenna were heard. Dorrie and Verity’s hearts went out to the girl. She was the one who would have to face the public shame and bear the baby, a daunting prospect for a woman who was still really a girl.
Wiping blood and sweat off his hairy face, Denny blasted one last look of enmity at Sam and then Charlie. He went to Jenna. ‘Come on, dry your eyes. I’m taking you home. Me and your mother will look after you. A new baby is welcome in our home even if it isn’t elsewhere.’
Dorrie watched as the Lawrys formed into a protective huddle. Sam and Charlie stared down at the ground. ‘Thanks for what you said, Dorrie,’ Belle said, looking grave and critical. ‘I’m sorry you and Verity got involved in this. It’s not your family problem. We’ll sort this out ourselves.’
Finn looked at Tilly, his expression worried. Dorrie was sure of his thoughts – what would Tilly think of him now?
Tilly simply put her hand in his. ‘Let’s go.’
Jack Newton’s car was filled again and was off for its original destination. Finn got out at the crossroads to walk to the hall. He waved goodbye to Tilly, watching until the car disappeared.
‘Poor Jenna, I can hardly believe she’s got herself into trouble,’ Tilly said in a small voice, from the back seat. ‘I’m sorry about all this, Miss Verity. I promise I won’t let family troubles affect my work or, um, let myself get into the same situation.’
‘I trust you, Tilly, and I can see how much Finn cares for and respects you. As for Jenna, these things happen. During the war I typed up a lot of official papers for a charity that placed a lot of fatherless babies into adoption. It was very sad. At least Jenna has the support of her family, including you and Cathy. Cathy will be shocked to hear the news. You must spend the afternoon together to do as you please.’
‘Yes, madam, thank you,’
‘Miss Verity will do for now and next year Mrs Newton. Aunt Dorrie, are you all right? You’re very quiet.’
‘I’m fine. It’s just all these sudden dramas and changes. As Tilly says, a lot can happen in a year –, well in just a few months really – but I must remember most have been for the good. Hopefully all will go smoothly at the hall opening.’
Thirty-Five
Up on the little stage of the smart Peace Hall, which smelled strongly of fresh paint and new timber, and buzzed with excited chatter and the clinking of teacups, Greg raised his arms and called for hush.
‘Thank you, thank you, everyone,’ he said in a loud happy voice as a shuffling quiet spread in an interested wave over the gathering. ‘I have here a message from Mrs Mitchelmore and it was now, after the grand opening and the press had gone, that she specified she wanted it to be read out. Dorrie, are you sure you don’t want to do this? It was you who Mrs Mitchelmore wrote to.’
‘Not in the least,’ Dorrie replied, sitting at a long line of trestle tables with Verity, Jack, the Templetons, Guy and the Vercoes. Jenna was there, chivvied along by her parents, sadly having spent every moment quiet and strained. The news of her ‘little problem’ had not yet become common knowledge, and the Vercoes and Lawrys were keeping a careful distance from each other.
‘Get on with it, boyo,’ called out Hector Evans, and everyone laughed.
‘Right then, here goes, it’s only fitting the dear lady has the last word. It’s dated five days ago, from Geneva. “My dear friends and neighbours of Nanviscoe. I’m so sorry to have suddenly left your midst, but in my trials, I am fully confident that I have left you in the very capable hands of the Peace Hall committee. I am also deeply saddened, as is my sister, Mrs Sanders, that we could not be with you there today, but we will take pleasure in what will be, undoubtedly, your pleasure. I urge you all to enjoy your splendid new hall, built with the sweat of your brows, and allow no one to spoil the future occasions you have in it. May God bless you all. Yours, with my affectionate regards, Esther Mitchelmore.”’
There was a thunderous round of clapping and whooping and a spontaneous outbreak of ‘For she’s a jolly good fellow.’
Thirty-Six
While the opening-day fun went on, Dorrie caught Finn’s elbow and nodded to him to go outside with her. Fitting to the occasion the sky had been a peaceful pale blue with lazily drifting white clouds and the sun shining down warmly, and now the winter daylight was waning like a cover of protection.
‘I wanted to speak to you alone, Finn. I’ve had another letter, from the agent. Read it, dear, and see what you think about it.’
Finn’s eyes moved over the typed letter. ‘So he likes your rhyming story but thinks my style of artwork isn’t right for the current market. He wants to try to link you up with another illustrator.’ Finn nodded. ‘That’s fair enough.’
‘Are you very disappointed, Finn?’ Dorrie was hopeful. His face had not dropped like a stone; he was taking the rejection well.
‘Not really. I’ve thumbed through a few more kids’ illustrated books and my artwork isn’t as rounded and as cuddly as is theirs. I think that’s what the agent means. I certainly don’t want to change my style, but you go ahead, Mrs R, and see what happens.’
‘It’s not something I really want to do, Finn. I rang the agent and asked him to return everything in the postage-paid reply envelope. Fiona has mentioned that if things don’t go ahead she’d like to turn the work into a decorated scrapbook for Eloise. There’s always the option we can try again in the future with something else. Greg and I are planning to have some of my poems made up to sell with the proceeds going towards the upkeep of the hall. We’re hoping you’ll agree to add some of your illustrations.’
‘It’s a great idea, Mrs R.’ Finn hugged Dorrie and planted a hearty kiss on her cheek. ‘I want to concentrate on my studies for the next two years and I can do that without worry, knowing you’ll be close by Mum, Eloise and Tilly too. Best thing that ever happened to us was meeting you.’
‘Oh, Finn.’ Dorrie shuffled her hand into her cardigan pocket for her hanky. ‘You’ll have me in tears.’
‘Will Mrs Sanders let you know when . . . time’s up for Mrs Mitchelmore?’
‘I’m sure she will, Finn – and because when she last got in touch she said Mrs Mitchelmore was buoyant and bubbly, I hope it will be a very long while yet. Shall we go back in?’
Proudly, Finn took Dorrie back in on his arm.
Dorrie enjoyed the rest of the day. It was the best event ever held in the village. The first of many to be held in this hall, Dorrie thought contentedly, and all boosted forward by Honoria’s generous monetary donation. If Honoria and her sister had conspired in two terrible (although in each case, she felt, rather understandable) crimes, then Dorrie was happy for them both to remain enigmas.