Village Gossip

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Village Gossip Page 15

by Shaw, Rebecca


  ‘Damn you for a nuisance, I’ll have no peace all afternoon.’

  Cheerfully Jimbo called, ‘Sorry!’ and left. He took the opportunity to call in at the kitchens to check that this rather important slice of his empire was in full swing. The staff were glad to see him and he enjoyed a ten minute chat with the chef about the arrangements for the directors’ weekend.

  Before getting into his car he went out through the back door of the kitchens to inspect the bins and check that they were being kept well disinfected. He’d planted bushes around the bin area to shield them from the bedroom windows at the back of the house and as he approached he sniffed the air and decided that despite the hot weather they were clean. What he hadn’t expected to find beyond the bushes was Hugo’s red sports car. He had half a mind to find out what Hugo was up to, but shrugged his shoulders and decided to mind his own business. A sneaking suspicion made him look up at the windows of the flat Venetia and Jeremy occupied. A curtain flicked back into place and he thought he caught a glimpse of Hugo’s face as he quickly retreated from the window.

  Chapter 12

  Caroline had been watching television while Peter had been at his Parochial Church Council meeting. As soon as she heard him coming in she called out, ‘Peter, I didn’t tell you. I’ve got six months’ work at the practice coming up. Four days a week. Isn’t that brilliant? They rang this morning and I accepted and then it went completely out of my head. The other woman doctor is pregnant and they need a standin.’

  Peter bent over and kissed her. ‘That’s wonderful, truly wonderful and I’m very pleased.’

  ‘Are you?’

  ‘Oh, yes.’

  Caroline frowned at him, suspecting some ulterior motive behind his delight till she remembered he wasn’t made like that. ‘You don’t normally rejoice when I work, what’s brought about the change?’

  ‘I rejoice on the basis that what’s good for you is good for us all.’

  ‘I have the distinct feeling I’m being patronised.’

  Peter shook his head. ‘Absolutely not, as if I would.’

  Caroline looked closely at his face as he leant over her. It was deadpan. He looked down at her and his eyes lit up with laughter.

  Caroline returned his kiss and patted the seat beside her. ‘Sit here. I need your advice.’

  ‘About …?’

  ‘I’m getting terribly worried about this play. What if I turn out to be a complete fool on the stage and ruin it for everybody. When I agreed to do it I was so full of myself I could have done it single-handed, but now I’m not so sure.’

  ‘Hugo will see you through it.’

  ‘Yes, he will. Of course he will. He’s a brilliant actor, you know.’

  ‘He is?’

  ‘Oh yes, you can feel him rising to the occasion. He kind of puts on a mantle, you can visibly see him do it and he’s no longer Hugo Maude, he’s whoever he’s playing. What a gift.’

  ‘Indeed.’

  ‘It’s the most enormous privilege to work with him. He pulls everyone into his enthusiasm, draws them in, whisks them along. As a team leader he’s amazing, he has them all eating out of his hand. The rehearsal tonight went wonderfully well. We are incredibly lucky, you know, to have him here. We’re all well blessed.’

  ‘I shall have to come to a rehearsal to see this great man at work.’

  Caroline gave him a sharp look but his expression was completely innocent. ‘Even Rhett, despite his troubles, is coming along splendidly. I watched him in the scene where he talks to his father about me and my new boyfriend and he almost had me in tears. It was very moving. Such a sensitive performance, all due to Hugo’s coaching. You can’t imagine Rhett being like that, can you?’

  ‘No, you can’t. It’s surprising what talents people have.’

  ‘It is. I do love it, all the rehearsing and such. It makes me quite skittish, kind of like a young foal in a field all excitement and jollity, capering about through life. Our lives – yours and mine – are so serious, aren’t they? Always helping the lame dogs and such. There’s not much time for laughter, is there?’

  Peter thought for a moment before he answered. ‘You’re right, there isn’t. But I can’t change it. Not my life, at any rate.’

  ‘Oh, I know, and I wouldn’t ask you to in a million years. You’re not in a job where you can decide to have a career change mid-stream, I know that. Yours is a vocation. And I fully accept that and always will. But I do think we should find time to laugh more. Don’t you?’

  ‘I shall give that matter my earnest consideration.’

  ‘There you are, you see, all seriousness again. You should let up more often.’

  ‘What’s brought all this philosophising about?’

  Impatiently, Caroline shook her head. ‘Nothing. Nothing at all.’

  She was silent for a while and then said, as though he were always at the front of both their minds, ‘He’s a little boy lost, you know. Needs a wife who’s a mother as well.’

  Peter didn’t need to ask whom she meant. ‘Like most men.’

  ‘Only more so. The slightest thing can hurt him intensely. That’s why he’s such a good actor, so emotional. He’s very touchy feely.’

  ‘Oh! I’m sure he is.’ He ran a lazy finger along her arm and as she watched it she wondered why nowadays he didn’t ignite her like Hugo did with just the same gesture. Peter stood up offering her his hand. ‘I’m ready for bed. Coming?’

  ‘In a while.’

  ‘I rather thought …’ Peter shrugged his shoulders. ‘Never mind.’

  ‘Not tonight.’

  Peter decided to fulfill his promise and make it possible for himself to attend the next rehearsal. Willie volunteered to sit in. ‘Be glad to, sir, no trouble at all.’

  ‘I shan’t stay all evening, I don’t think, but it’s just a chance to see a great actor at work.’

  ‘Oh quite. Yes, sir, you do right. Good idea. I’ll tell them children a goodnight story and they’ll be off to sleep in a trice.’

  ‘About dragons as usual?’

  ‘Oh yes, dragons is my speciality.’

  ‘They make a big impression.’

  ‘My dragons do! About quarter past seven, then?’

  ‘That’s right. Caroline likes the children to be asleep by eight at the latest.’

  ‘You go and enjoy yourself, nothing like seeing at first hand.’

  Peter wore his most relaxed looking shirt and shorts and wandered off in the steaming heat to the Church Hall. It was in darkness and the cast were standing on the stage listening to Hugo.

  ‘… Four more rehearsals. Four more tries. Four more before lift off. You’re doing brilliantly. Wonderfully. Fantastically well. I’m most impressed. But … that is no reason to give up trying to improve your performance. No one is ever perfect, least of all me …’

  This last was greeted by hoots of derision. Hugo held up a hand for silence, ‘No, I mean it. If ever you get satisfied with yourself then it’s curtains. Kaput. Finito.’ He ran a finger across his throat. ‘You’re dead. So … all the stops out tonight and we’re going straight through the whole of the first act. No interruptions. Remember! Never stop improving on your last performance. Remember how we felt our pace dragged a bit at the end? Don’t let it happen tonight. We want the audience to be disappointed and not relieved that the interval has come. OK?’

  They all nodded. ‘Beginners, please.’

  Peter seated himself on a chair at the very back in the shadows. He’d told Caroline he was coming but hadn’t reminded her just before she’d set off for the hall. He rather hoped she’d forgotten.

  They were good. There was no doubt about that. Talent such as he had never suspected from Liz and Rhett, from Michelle and Neville and from Harriet as the badly betrayed lover of Hugo.

  There was a whisk of the curtains and a hushed minute of silence to denote the passing of time and then act one, scene two began. It was Hugo, now looking somehow like a nineteen twenties man about town
, coming to return Caroline’s umbrella. He hadn’t got costume on, simply a pair of jeans and a tee shirt, but he looked what he was, a lounge lizard with a heart.

  Peter listened to their dialogue. He admired Hugo’s voice. Then it was Caroline’s turn to speak. It was quite astounding to him how her voice had changed. At once languid and seductive, at once an ice maiden and a temptress. This Hugo had far more going for him than Peter had ever imagined. He sat fascinated. Every member of the cast was transformed. Even young Michelle was a changed person. When she cried there were genuine tears running down her cheeks.

  Act one, scene two ended with a telephone conversation between Caroline and Hugo. Peter recognised restlessness, the need for excitement, the yearning in her voice and in her body language, she did it so well that although one couldn’t hear Hugo’s replies one knew exactly what he would be saying.

  He couldn’t help himself; he applauded.

  Sylvia clapped too, and so did Barry, Ron and Dean. They couldn’t help themselves either. Barry climbed onto the stage and gave Michelle a big kiss. ‘Wasn’t she marvellous, Hugo? Absolutely great. I’m that proud.’ Michelle blushed and Rhett took her hand. ‘And you Rhett, very powerful.’

  Peter moved towards the stage. ‘I’m exceedingly impressed. It was just wonderful.’ He reached up and signalled to Caroline to jump down off the stage into his arms. He hugged her and whispered, ‘Fantastic! I’m so proud. So very proud.’

  ‘I’d forgotten you were coming. Are you just flattering me?’

  Vehemently he answered, ‘I’m not. You were excellent.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  Above the hubbub Hugo called, ‘Right, that’s it for tonight. See you next rehearsal, full scenery, full props. Goodnight! And thanks.’

  They all retired to the Royal Oak except for Rhett and Michelle. The bar was moderately busy for a weekday night. Sitting like a peacock amongst a flock of sparrows sat Venetia Mayer, alone in a corner from which she had a full view of the whole bar. She wore her purple outfit, with matching slouch socks, trainers and headband. She didn’t seem to have noticed that crushed velvet had been out of fashion for quite a few years now. Her hair, abundant as always, was blacker than ever, and her eye make-up would have been obvious to a blind man.

  She waved vigorously to Peter and Caroline who headed the rush for the bar. They returned her wave and, having collected their drinks, went to sit at her table.

  ‘May we, or are you expecting someone?’ Venetia didn’t answer, but simply invited them to sit by patting the seat alongside her and smiling.

  Peter recollected he hadn’t seen Jeremy for a while so he asked Venetia how he was.

  ‘Jeremy? He’s fine.’

  ‘I heard you’d put him on a diet.’

  Disinterestedly she answered, ‘I did, but he wouldn’t agree to it. It’s a waste of time talking to him.’

  ‘I see, that’s a pity.’

  Venetia wasn’t making coy passes at Peter as she had done often in the past, instead she was scanning the crowd at the bar. He noted her satisfaction when she spotted whoever it was she’d come to see.

  ‘You’ll enjoy the play when you see it, Venetia. Hugo’s done a wonderful job, everyone’s quite excellent.’ She wasn’t listening, she was watching someone. He saw her face light up again and in a moment Hugo was sitting beside Caroline and opposite Venetia. There was a recognisable togetherness between Caroline and Hugo, the result of working on the play in such close harmony. Peter saw it and wondered if Venetia had too. He turned to say some platitude to her and saw the flinty look in her eyes. They were rapidly flicking between Hugo and Caroline, and for a moment he couldn’t understand her anger, and then he did. It was the anger of a jealous woman.

  Venetia, grimly keeping a hold on her temper said, between gritted teeth, ‘Good rehearsal?’

  Hugo asked Caroline to give her opinion. ‘Excellent. It’s all coming together quite brilliantly. Isn’t it, Peter?’

  ‘It certainly is. I was very impressed. You and Hugo here together are a dynamic duo.’ Caroline and Hugo laughed. ‘You should have joined the cast, Venetia. You could have had some fun.’

  ‘Could I indeed? Well, well. Not my scene, as you might say.’

  The four of them chatted together about many inconsequential things until Peter looked at his watch. ‘I’ll have to go, I promised Willie I wouldn’t be late. You stay, darling, if you wish.’

  ‘No, I’ll come too. I’ve had a long day and I need my beauty sleep.’ Caroline picked up her bag and squeezed out of her seat. Hugo stood up.

  He took her hand and kissed her fingers. ‘Sleep perhaps, but not beauty sleep, my love.’ He held her hand a moment longer than he needed to and Caroline was forced to pull it free.

  ‘Goodnight to you, flatterer!’

  ‘Cross my heart and hope to die, I always speak the truth to my leading lady.’

  Peter laughed at his flirting. ‘No wonder all the girls idolise you, Hugo. You’re too charming for words.’

  Hugo turned to look at Peter. ‘I mean it. It’s true. You’re a lucky man, though perhaps you don’t know it.’

  ‘I do, I do. I’m just unaccustomed to hearing other men say it, that’s all.’

  ‘Other men?’ Hugo put a delicate hand to his brow. ‘Other men? Shame on you. Shame. Me! Other men! I am unique! Quite unique!’

  He pretended to feel feint and slumped back onto his chair, dramatically prostrate. He withdrew a handkerchief from his pocket and mopped his brow.

  Peter smiled while at the same time admiring Hugo’s almost flawless physical beauty. ‘You’re right, you are unique, no one but you could have collapsed in such a stylish manner! Goodnight to you, and thanks, everlasting thanks for producing the play. It’s going to prove to be truly memorable. Goodnight, Venetia.’

  Her lips, tight as tight, only just allowed, ‘Goodnight’ to escape.

  Caroline called out her goodbyes to everyone and closed the door behind them. As soon as they were out of hearing she said, ‘What on earth is the matter with Venetia, she hadn’t a word for the cat. Have we upset her?’

  ‘Not us, no. Watching him just now the word “beauty” came to mind. Not a word I would readily use when referring to a man, but he has such classical beauty. For a split second I did wonder …’

  ‘Have you got your key? Wonder what?’

  As he reached to put his key in the lock, Peter said offhandedly, ‘Is he straight?’

  Angrily Caroline said, ‘Of course he is. But what would it matter if he weren’t?’

  Peter pushed open the door. ‘It wouldn’t matter one jot, would it now?’ He looked intensely at her face in the muted light of the hall and saw briefly in it a kind of naked passion, which she quickly veiled.

  ‘No, it wouldn’t matter. What does matter is his talent and his great generosity in making the play possible. We’ll never have another chance like this, and we should take it with both hands and not dig for motives or stances or anything at all. Just take our opportunity eagerly.’

  ‘Of course. Willie! We’re back! Everything all right?’

  Willie appeared in the sitting-room doorway and, looking directly at Peter, said, ‘Yes. Everything all right with you?’

  Peter forced a firm reply. ‘Oh yes. Absolutely hunky-dory.’ Leaving Caroline to say their thanks and goodnights he took the stairs two at a time and went directly to bed.

  Caroline’s enthusiastic support for Hugo would have been seriously diminished had she witnessed the conversation Harriet had with him the following day. Hearing him thumping about upstairs she went up and, looking into the tiny boxroom next to his own room, she saw he was dragging his cases out.

  ‘Excuse me for asking, Hugo, but what exactly are you doing?’

  Breathlessly he replied, ‘Packing.’

  ‘Packing? Might one ask why?’

  He straightened up, pushed his hair from his forehead and announced, ‘My agent, that was him on the phone. I simply can’t turn it dow
n.’

  A very nasty, insidious dread invaded Harriet’s brain. ‘Explain yourself.’

  Hugo perched himself on one of his cases. ‘He wants to see me immediately. I’ve got the chance of Hamlet at Stratford. I’ve never played Hamlet, would you believe, never. That prize, that glittering, fabulous prize is within my grasp. Agreed I’m second choice, because Sir John is scheduled. But he’s had a heart attack, so they’ve rung me. It should have been me to begin with, but Johnny’s got a thing going with the director so that’s how he got the job. Well, now he’s got his just desserts.’ Hugo shrugged his shoulders then dramatically clenched his fist and stared at it. ‘I simply cannot turn it down. I’ve got to go.’

  Harriet went from icy despair to total fury in the space of a moment. ‘You slimy toad. You foul, thoughtless, self-centred pig. How dare you? How dare you sit there and say that to me? Now, I really know exactly what you are. Shallow. Vain. Mean. Jimbo’s right, there’s only one person in the whole world as far as you’re concerned and that’s Hugo St John Maude. You’re an overrated, arrogant, egotistical, self seeking, swollen headed exhibitionist. How could you do this to us?’

  She stormed downstairs and rang the Store. ‘I don’t care where he is or what he’s doing, he is to come home immediately.’ She listened for a moment and then shouted, ‘This instant, whether he likes it or not and I don’t care if he’s signing the contract for Buckingham Palace garden parties, he’s to come home now. You tell him from me.’ She slammed down the receiver and paced up and down the hall, her anger intensifying as the moments passed.

  Hugo came slowly down the stairs. ‘Look, I know doing this makes me persona non grata …’

  ‘That’s true! There isn’t a quote in Shakespeare or anywhere else more apt, more apropos … I should have had my head examined for asking you here. Never, never again as long as you live will I ever …’

  The front door burst open and Jimbo hurtled into the hall.

  ‘My God! What is it? What the hell’s happened?’

 

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