Out of My Depth

by Gwenyth Clare Lynes

  “Mu…um!” Rachel shouted. “Have you called Sergeant Catchpole?”

  “No…oo!”

  “Then do so now, please.” Rachel took hold of RK’s arm. “Come on RK.”

  “But… she hasn’t paid…”

  “POLICE, Mum!”

  “Right…” Christina’s voice trailed off. She was astounded that Rachel should shout at her. Rachel never raised her voice to anyone. Oh dear! It must be serious.

  When Rachel and RK reached Ferry Cottage they couldn’t believe their eyes. Someone had wreaked havoc on the cottage. Large stones, obviously taken from the beach, had been hurled through all the windows.

  “What a blessing you weren’t here last night, RK. By the amount of rocks and pebbles on the floor someone wished you harm.”

  RK kicked angrily at the shingle path and pummelled a balled fist fiercely into the palm of her left hand. “Why? Why? Why?” She yelled.

  Rachel reached up to put her arms around her friend’s shaking shoulders. “Revenge for the other night, maybe? I guess someone’s afraid you might recognize him. I’ll stay with you till Tom comes.”

  “But what about Poppy and Rhoda? They’re due out of pre-school and nursery soon.”

  “I’ll ring the school.” Rachel quickly retrieved her mobile phone from her pocket, pressed a button, and within seconds was connected to the school secretary. “Hello, Mrs Scholes, it’s Rachel Durrant. There’s been an incident at Ferry Cottage. I’m waiting with RK for the police. Could you keep Poppy and Rhoda at school till I’m free to pick them up? … Right … Oh, good … That will be fine … Thankyou.”

  “There, that’s fixed. They’re going to give the girls lunch and keep them at school till we’re able to collect them.”

  The police, when they arrived, came in force. Inspector Capps took charge of the investigation, delegating his men to specific tasks. When SOCO had finally finished Ben oversaw the repairs to the cottage and Trixie Cooper organized a bevy of cleaners to restore the property back to RK’s home. Rachel ensured RK had a bed for the nights she had to be away from Ferry Cottage and Tom Catchpole guaranteed a visual police presence in the vicinity to make certain her safety. For a short while the incident served to fuel again gossip concerning the nature of RK’s presence in the village.

  Three weeks later P.C. Dan Prettyman called at Ferry Cottage to drive RK to Norwich to participate in an identity process that had been set up.

  On the way there she inquired, “Do you think the windows of Ferry Cottage were smashed by the same men who came into the garden?”

  “Possibly,” was Dan’s noncommittal reply.

  At the police station RK went through the photographs placed before her. For a few nerve racking moments she had to relive that awful night once again. Quite quickly she picked out Billy Knights as the nocturnal intruder and also identified him as the young man who had offered drugs to her in the Ship Inn on her first day in Newton Westerby. She also recognised another picture as one of his companions but was uncertain about the third in the group.

  Afterwards everything seemed to return to normal.

  “If there is such a state as normal,” RK laughed as she walked through the village one morning with Rachel having dropped the children off at the school. Rachel thought it was high time gaiety returned to RK’s demeanour and outlook. It was a joy to see sparkle in her eyes and wit in her conversation. They stood for a moment watching the workmen as they worked on Kezia’s Wood.

  No one knew who had commissioned the work because the PC had kept their deliberations under wraps pending the outcome of the legal findings but most of the residents were glad that the overgrown ‘jungle’ was being tackled by someone. They were curious to know what was going to happen to the site. The two strangers had created a sense of unease amongst the villagers. Their brief visit to the village had caused bitter wrangling between neighbours. Some were totally opposed to any modernization or construction work taking place in the village.

  “We’ll need to set up a protest committee.”

  “Before yew know it we’ll ’ave double yeller lines on the ruds, traffic lights an’ keep left signs all uvver the place.”

  “We’ll lose our peace and tranquillity.”

  “As well as our quaintness and beauty.”

  “And there’ll be accidents galore.”

  Others welcomed the prospect of a supermarket.

  “More choice and everything under one roof.”

  “Could be cheaper, too”

  “And a car park is essential, for visitors.”

  Ostensibly, the work was being carried out on behalf of the de Vessey Estate by Chit Beckingsdale with a team that had been at Easton Agricultural College with him but also included present day students such as Ryan Saunders and Nathan Jenner. However, behind the scenes much consultation was taking place between Lord Edmund and Doctor John, Stephen Cooper and the two Kemp sisters. Stephen could hardly contain his excitement when his father related to him what he had done with regard to the site. So that, whenever he was not at College he was working on the site driven by the expectancy of what might be hidden behind the undergrowth.

  As soon as the extensive research and painstaking deciphering in the Capps-Walker office had been completed it had been agreed to uphold the original gift of deed held by Ada Durrant. A document had been unearthed which stated that, with some buildings attached, it had been given as a Deed of Gift to Annie Kemp, mother of Ada, for services rendered to Lady Marion de Vessey. Annie’s will left the property she owned to Ada. It was decided, therefore, that the de Vessey Estate would continue to hold it in trust for the villagers, as so many of them were her descendents.

  The lawyers deemed the Kezia Kemp bequest to be something quite separate and referred to property not land. They advised waiting to see what was uncovered on the site. So, Doctor John’s cheque was frozen pending the outcome of the methodical clearance of Kezia’s Wood but he and Lord Edmund agreed to share the cost of the initial land clearance. When anything further was discovered negotiations would take place to resolve ownership. All the parties immediately involved agreed this appeared to be the most sensible way to proceed so, Adam and Mr Capps-Walker drew up a citation to this effect in order to protect the property and land from developers.

  Strangely, nothing further was ever heard from the smooth talking stranger about the construction of a car park or a supermarket but he and his associate had cleverly engineered an atmosphere of discord and unpleasantness which persisted for some time amongst the villagers.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  At the end of May residents and visitors turned out en masse to participate in the car treasure hunt organized by Jennifer Pedwardine; some out of curiosity and others because traditionally the event was usually a fun activity of which to be a part.

  By ten o’clock the church hall was heaving with excited participants. RK, with Poppy in the buggy and Daniel and Kirsty eagerly jumping up and down, was among them. However, as instruction sheets were handed out, teams allocated numbers and departure times recorded, “What, no car!” was a frequent exclamation followed closely by the question, “How can it be a car treasure hunt, then?” Completely nonplussed Jennifer simply smiled and said firmly, “You’ll see.” Bemused, the contestants went on their way, shaking their heads. They found it to be totally different to the entertaining days, planned in previous years, by Adam and Laura.

  Lord Edmund de Vessey usually ferried a car load of elderly residents from The Close around the course. Armed with copies of the day’s itinerary their sharp eyes and minds enjoyed peering through the car windows searching for hidden village oddities, then, sitting back in their seats pondering over and solving the clues. Knowing this, Jennifer Pedwardine planned the route with suitable adaptations to accommodate the less agile. For the majority the treasure hunt was on foot, in and around the village.

  “Who hasn’t got a TV in Ferry Lane?” was another frequently asked question.

  “I thought e
veryone had a TV!” was the much repeated reply until someone spotted that the letters t and v were missing from the name plate of No 6 Ferry Lane, ‘Cres of the wa e’.

  Both Sergeant Tom and P.C. Dan mingled unobtrusively amongst the competitors ensuring their safety and the free flow of visiting traffic to the village. The de Vessey Estate, as usual, provided a field for car parking to prevent potential mishaps along the narrow lanes between pedestrians and drivers unfamiliar with the awkwardness of their twists and turns. After this event work was commencing to turn the field into a proper car park as promised by Lord Edmund. Job applications were already coming in to the PC for the position of car park attendant during the busy summer months. It had already been agreed to issue access passes to villagers with vehicles.

  “Charging us £5! Daylight robbery!”

  “No, making certain they are not misused or the privilege abused,” boomed Lord Edmund. “We simply haven’t the room for hundreds of vehicles to traverse our lanes. The only exceptions will be emergency vehicles, the Mini-Hopper and the College bus. We’ll make provision for visiting coaches on the car park.”

  “So we need to prove we live here in order to drive to our homes?”

  “No, the pass shows you have an automatic right of access because you are a resident in the village.”

  “What about delivery vans?”

  “No problem. The scheme is intended to prevent the flagrant snarling of our narrow lanes, that we experienced last summer, occurring again.”

  As the treasure hunters eagerly sought for answers to the clues Dan particularly kept a look out for Robyn Dickinson-Bond wanting to acquaint her with the progress that had been made with regard to her nocturnal intruders.

  When he finally caught up with her he explained, “They have been apprehended and charged following the identity parade in which you participated.”

  “Oh!”

  “So you shouldn’t have any further problems with unwanted visitors.”

  “That’s a relief.”

  “Further incidents came to light through undercover investigations by the drug squad in Norwich which also involved the trio.”

  “What about the silenced shopkeeper?”

  “That matter is still under investigation.”

  “Don’t let them give up on that, Dan. There are people in this village who would welcome closure on that incident, and soon,” RK turned to leave.

  “Come on, children, let’s go and solve some more clues. See you later, Dan.”

  Dan was pleased to see RK back to her carefree self and deliberately withheld the fact that Billy Knights had given his city colleagues the slip. The drug squad were not unduly perturbed about this because they believed they could break down the two suspects already held in custody. When Billy’s whereabouts became known and they picked up the threads again the police hoped to haul in even greater ‘fish’. Meanwhile, surveillance of activity in and out of the Newton Westerby harbour would continue and a quiet eye would be kept on RK’s safety.

  As Dan moved on to mingle amongst the clue finding participants he remembered he had forgotten to inform Robyn that police investigations had exonerated Joe and Josh Cook from any involvement in the Kemp’s accident at Christmas. This was because further evidence had come to light that pointed the enquiry in a totally different direction. I’ll fill her in on that info at some later date.

  The treasure hunt certainly proved to be a fun day with a difference but one full of laughter and merriment.

  To the astonishment of the participants the clues finally led the problem solvers to the garden at Bakers, the former village bakery now the home of Miss Pedwardine. Most of the villagers had seen no further than the hedge and fence that abutted the lane so were eager to view beyond the boundary. Amazement was the reaction of them all as they stepped through the open garden gate, apart from Alex, who on her return to the garden simply revelled in the delight of others as they enjoyed the unexpected hidden beauty all around them.

  “What a tremendous success today has been,” RK commented warmly to Alex.

  “I’m glad you’ve enjoyed it.”

  “This is a fantastic setting to meet at the end of what has been a fascinating trail around the village,” RK commented as her eyes travelled around the garden vista and she gasped in appreciation at the luscious spectacle before her.

  “It is lovely, isn’t it? I was mesmerised the first time I walked through the gate.”

  “I’m sure it takes a lot of hard work to maintain this standard but I’ll just be content to sit in this spot and enjoy the beauty of someone else’s handiwork.”

  Alex murmured in agreement then asked, “Is Adam not with you?”

  “No, he’s gone to spend the day with Laura at the hospital, so the children and I have had great fun unravelling Jennifer’s cryptic clues.” RK pushed Poppy’s buggy next to Bethany’s while keeping a close eye on Daniel and Kirsten as they skipped to join Lily, Keir and Pansy in their exploration of the garden. The two toddlers slumbered side by side as the adults clustered together to discuss the achievements of the day.

  “Yes, an excellent suggestion of yours Alex,” Stephen Cooper quipped, as he assisted in the distribution of hot dogs and burgers from the barbeque, veggie as well as traditional.

  “Not at all,” replied Alex in her quiet unassuming manner. “All the credit is due to Miss Pedwardine’s imaginative expertise.”

  “Splendid teamwork,” congratulated Doctor John diplomatically, beaming at all around him, including Jilly Briggs and her youthful band of helpers as well as the village stalwarts surrounding Miss Pedwardine distributing coffees and teas.

  “Well done, Jennifer,” complimented Lord Edmund. “We’ll have to co-opt you on to the PC, can’t hide skills like yours under a bushel.”

  Embarrassed by the unexpected plaudits Jennifer simply replied, “What would happen to all of this if I was tied to stuffy meetings?” Her arm swept out to encompass the horticultural mosaic in front of them all.

  “My dear, we appreciate your willingness to open up this lovely space for us to enjoy, today, but I’m sure you still have much to offer our community. You may be retired but you haven’t opted out of life, have you?”

  Jennifer smiled at those around her. “Of course not but, even in retirement, I am kept very busy and I don’t always have time to fit in everything I would like to do each day.”

  Undeterred, Lord Edmund persisted. “I’m sure you can spare the occasional hour once a month to contribute expertise from the vast wealth of knowledge you have acquired so that the current residents of our villages may benefit.”

  With pursed lips Miss Pedwardine had the final word, “We shall see.”

  However, the pleasure of the treasure hunt day soon receded into memory as the village prepared for the annual arrival of summer visitors who swarmed like flies to this idyllic unspoiled haven.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Despite the onslaught of summer visitors to the village the clearance of Kezia’s Wood continued in earnest. Chit Beckingsdale had been instructed to handle the work under the watchful eye of Lord Edmund and Doctor John. With an army of willing volunteers from the village, as well as the team of students from Easton College on work experience, Chit painstakingly cleared the area metre by metre starting from the lane and working back towards the centre of the scrubland. His brief was to clear the rubbish but to make certain nothing of historic or horticultural value was lost. The operation became quite an attraction to locals as well as holidaymakers all keen to know what was going to emerge beyond the undergrowth. Bystanders congregated at some point on most days to give advice or ruminate about the wood’s hidden secrets.

  However, the throb of holidaymaker’s hustle and bustle and the excitement generated by the wood clearing project seemed to pass the Catton family by. Their only involvement was Adam’s input at the office into the provenance of the deed of ownership. Their horizons were occupied and coloured by preparations for Laura’s homecom
ing. The upheaval in the house affected them all. Since her stroke nothing could shake Adam’s belief that one day Laura would return home. Unsure how she would cope with the present facilities in their home a tremendous amount of dialogue and planning had taken place between Adam and Ben Durrant over many months in anticipation of that day. This was to ensure that not only were all of Laura’s needs met, but the alterations catered for the needs of the whole Catton family, as well as retain the character of the 18th century property that had been in Adam’s family for generations.

  In the initial stage of the discussions Ben had been nominated by Lord Edmund to be spokesman for the Parochial Church Council discretionary fund and approach Adam on their behalf. “You’ll do best, my boy,” Lord Edmund boomed, clapping a hand firmly on Ben’s shoulder, “you are an accomplished architect, have excellent communication skills and foremost, his best friend.”

  Since that directive, Ben had waited for an opportune time to chat over the proposed plans with Adam. It had come a few days later when, following their evening meal, he glanced through the window and saw RK leave the Catton house at the end of her working day looking after Adam’s children.

  “RK’s on her way home, Rache, so I’m off to Adam’s house,” Ben called up the stairs.

  “Will you be long?” Rachel was at that moment tidying the bathroom after Mark and Rhoda’s evening bath. She had listened to their prayers, told them a story, and the children were now tucked up in bed almost asleep.

  “About an hour, I expect, Sweetheart, depends how long it takes me to convince him of the PCC’s proposal.”

  “Tread carefully, dear, Adam’s a proud man.”

  So, Ben had left his house, stepped briskly across the lane and appeared on the Catton doorstep, armed with his laptop. Within minutes of Ben’s arrival the two young men gravitated into the kitchen where Adam flicked on the kettle and made a pot of tea.

  “Good of you to stop by, mate. Is there any news of Dave returning to the village?” He opened a cupboard as he spoke and drew out a couple of mugs from the shelf.