Deep in his heart he became filled with a dark foreboding.
Chapter 4
It had been quiet all evening in the Royal Oak until the crowd from the meeting came in. But then it was always quiet on Mondays in summer, a fact for which Georgie and Dicky were quite grateful. Summer weekends were hectic, good for business as Georgie always said with a laugh, but frantic nevertheless. Both she and Dicky were pleased with the way things had gone since Bryn left. In fact they were excessively pleased with themselves. The last eighteen months had been far harder work than Dicky could ever have contemplated, but with Jimbo Charter-Plackett teaching him how to keep the books and do the ordering and Bel helping at the bar when they were desperate, they were managing to keep their heads well and truly above water.
It was the first chance Dicky had had to get a close look at this newcomer they were all talking about. Georgie had swooned over his good looks and his reputation when she’d seen him in the Store, and he could see at first glance that she was right. He was handsome and not half.
‘Good evening, mine host! Drinks all round on me. What shall you have?’ Hugo looked at each in turn and they gave Dicky their orders. Georgie, unable to resist a chance to speak with such a famous figure, came to give Dicky a hand.
‘Good evening, Mr Maude.’
‘Mr Maude indeed! Hugo, please. I am amongst friends, surely. You are?’
‘Georgie Fields.’
‘Lucky man is Mr Fields, very lucky indeed.’ He grinned at Dicky who let the mistake pass.
‘Let’s put two tables together then we can all sit round. Do you mind, Georgie?’ Under the devastating beauty of his smile Georgie capitulated. Putting two tables together usually meant the group got very rowdy and she normally demurred if the idea was requested. It was the way Hugo’s lips opened so generously, showing those immaculately straight teeth, with just one slightly crooked one which gave him the appearance of a boy, not a man.
‘Of course. Dicky, give them a hand, will you?’
In no time at all Dicky had pushed two tables together and placed the tray of drinks in the middle. There was a lot of laughing and joking and sorting out of where to sit and who’s drink was which. In the middle of it Caroline appeared from the lavatories. Instantly Hugo stood up. His expressive face broke into a warm smile for her which was observed by almost everyone in the bar.
‘Caroline! What would you like to drink?’
‘Just an orange juice, please.’ Harriet pulled up a chair next to her and patted the seat. ‘Sit here, look.’
Caroline’s orange juice arrived in front of her with a flourish. ‘Thank you, Hugo, that’s lovely.’
Harriet nudged her. ‘Well? What do you think?’
‘About what?’
‘The play!’
‘I think it’s going to be brilliant. A wonderful choice.’
‘So do I. And it’s really rather thrilling doing what is its first real outing on the stage in its present form. If it gets eventually to the West End, well …’
‘Exactly.’ Caroline sipped her drink leaving the others to make all the going with the one liners and jokes. She was in a quandary of the first order. Reading through the script which Hugo had so painstakingly photocopied on Jimbo’s copier she had been appalled at the intimacy between herself and Hugo demanded by the play. Not that she had to be naked or anything like that, after all they couldn’t go that far in a Church Hall. There were limits, even today. But they did have to kiss frequently, and mercifully the curtains closed on the scene where …
Heaven alone knew what the parish would think. If there was a moment to withdraw that moment was right now. This instant. Right now. She’d drop the bombshell immediately. As though in answer to her doubts there was a brief lull in the conversation. She put down her glass and said her piece.
‘I’m afraid I’m going to have to withdraw, or take a different part. I think this part is beyond me. So, I’m sorry, but there we are.’ There were gasps of disappointment all round the table.
Liz Neal said, ‘Oh please, you’re so right for the part, do do it, please.’
Neville agreed, ‘You’re so right for it, Caroline, you can’t let us down.’
‘I can and I will, I’m afraid.’
Hugo said loudly enough for the entire clientele to hear, ‘Afraid. That’s what the problem is. You’ve said far more than you know when you said, “I can and I will, I’m afraid.” You are afraid, afraid of the challenge, afraid of Peter, afraid of what the parish will say. Maybe even afraid the bishop might hear what you’ve been up to. Tut tut.’
Caroline almost cringed at his words, they were so close to the truth.
Harriet was livid. ‘Hugo! really. Be quiet, just shut up. If Caroline feels she can’t do the part then that is that, it’s not for you nor anyone else to query her motives.’
‘Why not? This play could be the making of her.’
Harriet snorted. ‘She doesn’t need “making”. Her life has been a complete success without your assistance. Now shut up and find yourself another leading lady.’
‘I only meant the part would give her a chance to face up to herself.’ He took Caroline’s hand in his. ‘My dear Caroline, I’m so sorry if I have upset you. I know I’m outspoken, and I apologise. You’re not used to the cut and thrust of the theatrical world …’
Harriet interrupted. ‘Not “cut and thrust”. Bitchiness would be more accurate. You’re making matters worse, so be quiet.’
‘That’s all right, Harriet, I can fight my own battles. I don’t want to do this part because I … well I just can’t do it.’
Hugo, seeing that bullying was getting him nowhere, changed his tactics. ‘Go home and think about it. Sleep on it, as they say. You’re so right for the part, you see. I can’t see anyone else in it.’ He addressed the other members of the cast. ‘When she read tonight I knew it in my bones. You can all see her in the part, can’t you?’
He looked at them each in turn and they half-heartedly agreed with him. ‘You see. They all feel the same.’
Caroline said, ‘I’ll sleep on it then. Yes, I will. Give you a decision tomorrow. Though I’m quite sure Liz or Harriet would be just as good.’
‘Oh no, we wouldn’t.’
‘I’ll leave now, if you don’t mind.’ She stood up to go. ‘Goodnight everyone.’
‘Goodnight. Goodnight.’
Hugo followed her out. ‘I’ll see you to your door.’
‘For heaven’s sakes there’s no need for that.’
‘There is. I owe you an apology.’
‘For what?’
‘For trying to bully you. It wasn’t fair.’ He turned to face her and took hold of each of her hands. ‘I know you will be great. You and me together, we’ll make this play. I know it’s only a small-time production, but that’s no reason for not doing the best we can.’
‘If that’s all it is then I will think about it. I’ll tell you in the morning. It’s all very well you saying I ought to ignore my responsibilities to Peter and … the diocese and such, but they’re there and I can’t avoid them.’
By now they’d reached the rectory door. Caroline searched for her key. Hugo took it from her and put it in the lock.
‘There. In you go. Sleep tight.’ He gave her the lightest of kisses on her lips, stroked her arm comfortingly and pushed open the door for her.
‘True as I’m ’ere I saw ’em. He’d been holding her hands and then he kissed her. I wouldn’t be telling the truth if I said he’d made it last a while because he didn’t, but he kissed her, right there under the Rectory lamp, plain as day for all to see.’
Sylvia sat up in bed appalled. ‘Willie, are you sure? It’s dark, you could have been mistaken.’
‘I’m not. Shall I turn out the light?’
‘Yes.’ Sylvia snuggled up to Willie. ‘I can’t believe it of her, though when she went and bought that red dress I knew there was something afoot.’
‘Holding her hands he was. Could
n’t hear what they was saying but actions speak louder than words.’
‘Oh I know. But there, let’s be honest. You know what these actors are like, kissing and that. I bet they’d kiss someone who had the plague if it meant a part in a film or something.’
‘Daresay they would, but what’s he wanting from Dr Harris, that’s what I’d like to know.’
‘Willie! You don’t think …’
‘Maybe. Something to entertain himself with while he recups, or whatever they call it.’
‘Whatever will the Rector have to say?’
‘Whatever it is, he’d better say it quick before it’s too late.’
‘She’s been in a funny mood for a while. That cancer business took her back and not half. It was the children, you see. She couldn’t stand the thought of them being left without her, and her not seeing ’em growing up. She loves ’em that much.’ Sylvia dug under the pillow for her handkerchief and wiped her eyes. ‘And so do I, I love ’em too. I’ve never had a happier time in my life since I went to work there.’
‘’ere ’ere. What about since you married me?’
In the darkness Sylvia smiled. ‘You’re all part and parcel, aren’t you? Went there to work, met you and that. It’s all one and the same. If I suspect he’s up to something more than producing a play I’ll kill ’im. So help me I will. I’ll kill ’im.’
‘Sylvia!’
‘I mean it, and I wouldn’t care how many years I spent in prison, it’d be worth it.’
‘Right scandal that’d be. What would you say when they asked you why you did it?’
Sylvia thought for a moment. ‘I’d say it was a crime of passion, ’cos I’d fallen for ’im and he was ignoring me! It was jealousy, that’s right, that was my motive. Jealousy.’
Willie was affronted. ‘Sounds as though I’m not satisfying you as I should.’
‘You’re all right on that score, it’s just a ruse so I don’t have to tell the truth.’
‘Which is?’
‘I killed him to stop him ruining a very happy marriage. They love each other, at bottom. It’s just that she’s feeling trapped at the moment. If only …’
Willie rolled over and put his arms round her. ‘Never mind, old love. It’ll sort itself out.’
‘Not easily, I’m afraid. You have to admit he’s very appealing, very sexy and so good looking. There’s something about his smile which is so attractive. He’s kind of all male and all man and yet child all at the same time. It makes him very irresistible.’
‘Any more of that and I’ll be doing for ’im miself!’
‘Oooo, Willie! You never would.’
‘I would.’
‘So, darling, what’s this play called? Is it one I know or something Hugo’s dreamt up?’
‘Not dreamt up, no. It’s a play written by a new playwright. It’s been done once in Reading, or somewhere, and it flopped. Badly. It’s been rejigged, bits cut out that didn’t work, et cetera, and now Hugo is convinced the chap’s got it right and he’s dying to have a go with it. I read parts of it last night at the meeting and …’
‘Yes?’
‘Peter.’
‘Yes?’
‘Peter, it’s quite … well, anyway, the part he wants me to take means a bit of kissing and that, and I wondered what you thought about it.’
‘I see. What’s it called?’
‘Dark Rapture.’
‘Mmmmm.’
‘I know I’m being completely ridiculous and if I wasn’t your wife it wouldn’t matter two hoots really, but I am and that means complications and I’ve got to have you on my side before I say yes. Well, I did say yes and then I got cold feet last night in the bar and said I wouldn’t do it.’
‘What do the others think?’
‘Hugo asked them and they kind of half-heartedly said yes, they wanted me to do it, so he took it as a definite yes, which it wasn’t. You know how moral Harriet can get. She told him off.’
‘Would you like to do it?’
Caroline nodded. ‘Yes, I would. It feels like an affirmation that I’m taking life on again. I know it’s only a village play, but …’
‘Then do it, so long as there’s nothing you have to do which will be against everything you’ve ever stood for. There’s no nudity or anything, is there?’
‘Oh no, of course not. There couldn’t be in a Church Hall, could there? There’s the opportunity for naked flouncing about and it probably would be done that way if it got to the West End, but we’re not doing it like that. And we’re cutting out the worst of the swearing because I insisted it couldn’t be said on church premises. Perhaps I’m being overly careful, I don’t know. Nowadays anything seems to go.’
‘Can I see the script?’
Caroline hesitated for a moment and then said, ‘I’ll go get it.’
Peter spent an hour going through the script. He had certain misgivings but that was only when he read it from the point of view of Caroline in the leading part. Otherwise the play was good, and in a strange, convoluted way had a strong moral theme to it. In the end good triumphed.
Peter could hear Sylvia singing as she worked upstairs, he called out ‘Sylvia, where’s Caroline?’
‘Gone to the Store, Rector, she won’t be long. Is there anything I can do?’
‘No, that’s all right. I’ll speak to her when she gets back.’
Peter had a while to wait before Caroline returned. When she’d entered the Store a sudden silence had fallen and she became aware of sidelong glances at her, which she found puzzling.
‘Jimbo, is Harriet here?’
‘In the kitchens. Go through.’ He raised his straw hat to her as she slipped past the till. At least he was looking her straight in the face if no one else was.
The kitchens at the back of the Store had been made by opening up a series of small rooms to become two big kitchens. One for outside catering and one for making the confectionary and savoury products with which they filled the Store freezers. Caroline herself had been grateful for their homemade quality on more than one occasion when she’d been too busy to cook.
Harriet, wearing her white overalls and the net cap she wore in deference to the hygiene regulations, was elbow deep in a huge mixing bowl.
‘Hi! Come to see me? Won’t be a minute. Go get a coffee from the machine and I’ll be with you in a trice. There’s a couple of chairs in the freezer room. Take a pew there.’
Caroline did as she was told, found the chairs and sat down to wait. She should have waited for Peter’s opinion before she’d come to see Harriet, but she had the feeling that whatever he said she’d still agree to doing the play. Hang whatever anyone else thought, she’d a right to please herself for once.
‘Right. I’ll just pour mine into a cup. I hate these plastic cups but there’s no alternative when it’s for the customers – the washing up, you know. Here, let’s pour yours into one too. There, that’s better. Well?’
‘Well?’
‘Oh, I thought you’d come to tell me something.’
‘Oh, I see. Yes. I’ve decided. I’m doing it.’
‘Wow!! This coffee’s hot! Jimbo must have just brewed it. I’m glad. Very glad. Really pleased. It’s going to be so exciting.’
‘Peter’s reading the script.’
‘Oh. Right. Is that a good idea?’
‘We are doing it in the Church Hall, so …’
‘Of course. Yes, you’re right.’
‘Hugo doesn’t know, I haven’t seen him yet.’
‘He’s not feeling too perky this morning so he’s having a lie in.’
‘Right.’
‘Caroline, you are sure you’re doing the right thing? I mean, don’t say yes and then change your mind half way through, will you?’
‘Of course not. I’ve decided I’m doing the play no matter what.’
Harriet looked at her, curiously surprised by her emphatic reply, said as though she was still convincing herself she was right to do it. ‘You
are sure, aren’t you? I mean it’s not … well it’s not Hugo, is it, by any chance? I do know him for the absolute charmer he is.’
‘I am almost forty, Harriet. For heaven’s sake, a husband and two children whom I adore. I’m quite insulted really that you should think that I might be so stupid as to …’
‘What?’
‘Take a liking to him. I swear things will not get out of hand. Honestly.’
‘OK then.’ Harriet stood up. ‘Sorry, got to get on, must go. Stay and finish your coffee.’
‘Harriet, tell me, has Hugo ever been married?’
‘No. But he’s had dozens of female “admirers”, believe me. He’s far too gorgeous to have escaped someone’s clutches, don’t you think?’
‘Of course. Yes. Here, let me rinse the cups.’
‘Nonsense, they can go in with the rest.’ Uncharacteristically for Harriet she gave Caroline a kiss on her cheek. ‘Take care. Take care.’ And Caroline knew she wasn’t referring to her crossing the road.
Mrs Jones was working in the little mail order office when Caroline walked by on her way out.
‘Hello, Mrs Jones. How’s things?’
‘Fine, thanks. And you?’
‘Fine, thanks. Lovely weather.’
‘It is.’ She snapped off the sticky tape on a parcel she was wrapping and called Caroline back. ‘Dr Harris!’
Caroline came back and stood inside the doorway. ‘Yes?’
‘I wouldn’t mind giving a hand with this play. Backstage and that, of course. Our Michelle would like to help, too. There’d be plenty of things to do besides acting, wouldn’t there?’
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