by Leo McNeir
“No. I called in the SAS for advice. We renamed the school Fortress Garfield.”
The group laughed, and the atmosphere began to lighten.
“And everything was quiet?” Serena asked.
“Yes.”
“Let’s hope it stays that way.”
“We can’t count on that,” said Estelle. “Especially after the fire at the coach garage. I’ve got an idea. Whoever’s on duty at the school should have a fire extinguisher with them at all times. One for each person.”
“They have extinguishers there already,” said Anne. “They’re mounted in the corridors.”
“But they’re big, presumably?”
“Quite big.”
“I think you should take small ones like the ones you have on the boats, easy to carry and operate. Any trouble, you could run with them and hit the fire quickly.”
“That’s a good idea,” said Marnie. “I’ve got a couple of spares on Sally Ann.”
“Coming back to the coach garage,” Serena broke in. “You actually saw the fire, Anne?”
“Yes.”
“How much did you see?”
“Lots of smoke coming over the wall, an explosion. That’s when the fireman told me to get away.”
“How did you get out?” George asked.
“We drove up an alleyway behind the houses.”
George nodded. “A jitty.”
“A what?” said Marnie.
“It’s a local word. There’s a whole network of back alleys in the old parts of Northampton: jitties.”
Estelle leaned forward. “We? Did you say we, Anne? I thought you were alone.”
Anne stood up and began refilling the glasses with wine. “The Mini and me. Force of habit. More wine, Mr Stubbs?”
While Anne made her way round the table with the wine, they resumed eating.
“So who’s on duty tonight?” Serena asked.
Estelle said, “I’m doing it with Marnie.”
“You’re going off on your trip soon, aren’t you?”
“Flying out Monday.”
“How long will you be gone?”
“Almost a week.”
Luther winked at Anne. “Otherwise I’d be volunteering to do the Sunday night slot with Serena,” he said.
“More chilled soup for you, Luther?” Marnie asked pointedly. “You seem to need cooling down.“ She smiled sweetly.
“Who is doing the Sunday night stint?” said Serena.
Ralph spoke up. “I am.”
“Shall I come along as back-up?” said Ronny.
“Thanks, but I don’t think there’s any need, really.”
Luther grinned at Ronny. “I thought you might’ve been Anne’s secret back-up last night.”
A wry grin. “No such luck, I’m afraid.”
Luther continued. “Nice-looking girl like Anne, I’d have thought she would’ve organised a friend to keep her company.”
Anne just laughed. Ronny glanced at her over the top of his wine glass. So did Marnie.
*
The party ended early. Serena went over the programme for the first week and gave everyone a copy. There was no more teasing, no more innuendo. Marnie explained about Dorothy Vane-Henderson’s offer to organise a summer fete in support of the scheme. George offered sponsorship for any children who needed help to pay for transport to and from the school. As soon as the meal ended, they all began clearing the table.
Estelle went back to the cottage to collect her overnight bag. Marnie had brought her things to the office barn to put in Anne’s rucksack.
Ralph was loading the dish-washer. “You get on, Marnie. I can sort things out here. Got everything you need?”
“I forgot to bring a towel. I’ll have to fetch one from the boat.”
Anne’s rucksack was leaning against the washing machine. With the distraction caused by the depot fire it had been abandoned on her return. Marnie tipped its contents into the washing basket.
“Although I could probably just borrow Anne’s. She’ll hardly have used it. It won’t matter.”
“Don’t forget your sleeping bag, Marnie.”
“No. I left it in the car when I … that’s odd …”
“What is?”
“This, the rucksack. It’s all damp. Her towel’s quite wet.”
“She probably had a shower,” said Ralph.
“She showered in the morning.”
“Perhaps she took another to pass the time.”
Marnie ran her hand down the back of the rucksack and looked at her damp palm. Reaching inside, her fingers brushed against something lying in the bottom, a piece of paper. She pulled it out and was surprised to find it was a five-pound note. It had a slight unpleasant odour that made her think of stale feet.
Marnie sniffed the towel. It too had a faint smell, musky, almost like … Just then, Anne came backing through the door with a tray of glasses. Marnie quickly threw the towel into the machine with Anne’s T-shirt nightdress and pressed the door shut. She moved away from the machine, dropping the fiver into the in-tray as she passed her desk.
“I’m nearly ready, just need to fetch a towel. Any sign of Estelle?”
“She’s in the yard,” said Anne. “Fond farewells to Luther. You’d think she was leaving for the Spanish Civil War.”
“Tell her to get in the tank. I’ll join her in a minute.”
Anne skipped outside.
“What was that about the towel?” Ralph said quietly.
“Oh, nothing. You were probably right. I’d better get going.”
When they kissed each other goodbye, Ralph wished her an uneventful night on guard duty with Estelle. As it turned out, his wish was granted.
*
They were on the road again. Marnie tried not to seem pre-occupied as they travelled north up the dual carriageway, but it was a struggle to keep her mind on driving and not bombard herself with questions. Why was Anne’s towel so damp? She had only taken it to have a quick wash before bed. Then there was its smell, not at all unpleasant, but somehow … not Anne. The five-pound note was bizarre, unwholesome. It looked as if it had been rolled into a kind of pellet. Its dampness probably came from contact with the towel, but as for its smell …
They were approaching the outskirts of Northampton when Estelle broke into Marnie’s thoughts.
“Everything all right?”
“Mm?”
“You’re very quiet. I didn’t want to intrude on you.”
“Sorry. Just going over things in my mind.”
“You probably miss not having Anne with you, and her famous checklists.”
Marnie laughed. “Poor old Anne. Everyone makes fun of her lists. It all began when she started working with me. She asked a lot of questions and wrote everything down. She was desperate not to get anything wrong.”
“And now she’s indispensable to you.”
“Well …”
“Oh, I think she is. I must admit I did think at one time it’d be good to stay and work with you, Marnie. But I soon realised you had a great running mate in Anne. She’s a very precious friend and partner. I can’t see you having room for anyone else in the firm.”
Marnie had no wish to discuss her relationships. Time to change the subject. “You and Luther seem to have settled in very well.”
“Do you mean into the cottage, the village, or together as an item?”
“All three, I suppose.”
“It’s certainly a great place to live. And I know it’s helped us to gel as a couple.”
“I’m glad. At first I did wonder if it was a kind of rebound thing, but you do seem happy together. I can tell it’s not just a passing fling.”
“No, it’s not. Luther’s the most important thing ever to have happened in my life. It’s forever. If I didn’t have Luther, I’d be destroyed.”
Although she had spoken quietly, the strength of feeling in Estelle’s voice had startled Marnie. They had driven through the town in light traffic and were n
earing the school. As they pulled up at the kerb, Estelle reached across and took hold of Marnie’s arm.
“You don’t know how grateful I am to you, Marnie, for giving me a fresh start. I really meant it when I said I’d love to stay and go on working with you, but I know that isn’t possible. I just want to say I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”
There were tears in her eyes, and for a second Marnie felt the emotion from Estelle running into her arm like an energy field. She lightly patted her hand, half expecting high-voltage sparks to fly up.
“Everyone deserves a new start, Estelle. I’m glad to have helped.”
Estelle was about to speak, but Marnie got in first.
“Come on, let’s get the show on the road, time to get Fortress Garfield up and running.”
24
On Sunday morning Ralph had a reviving breakfast ready for Marnie when she got home, and it was warm enough to eat out on the bank framed on two sides by Sally Ann and Thyrsis. Single-handedly he produced scrambled eggs and smoked salmon with whole-wheat toast, freshly-squeezed orange juice, homemade preserves (purchased from a Women’s Institute stall) and a cafetière of Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee.
When Anne reached the docking area and saw the table spread under the parasol, she went down on one knee in front of Ralph and proposed marriage. Marnie told her to get in the queue. During the meal she gave her report on guard duty; a quiet night with no attempted intrusions and not so much as a drunk throwing up in a doorway.
After breakfast they voted on the plan for the day. R and R won by a unanimous decision. Ralph was elected to fetch the Sunday papers from the shop, and he set off on foot, declaring himself in need of a little exercise. Marnie and Anne chatted happily while they cleared the table and began on the dishes in the galley on Sally Ann. Their good mood lasted until Anne switched on the radio and they caught the local news bulletin. That weekend’s polls, conducted by the BBC and two national research organisations, agreed on their findings. Garth Brandon and the BFP had edged in front of all the other parties by two clear percentage points. It was a first in the history of British politics.
*
Ralph’s good mood lasted until he reached the high street. He arrived as the bells started ringing to call the faithful to church and he found Molly and Richard Appleton leaving their house which was next door to the shop. With a cheerful greeting they began to walk away when Molly had an afterthought.
“Ralph?” she called back. “Did you see him, your friend? Did he find you all right?”
“Which friend was that, Molly?” A faint alarm bell sounded.
“He didn’t give his name, but I think he must’ve been from the university, educated sort of chap, very smart, well-mannered.”
“When was this?”
“Last night. Didn’t he see you? I gave him directions.” Her expression froze. “Did I do the wrong thing?”
“Did you say he’d find me on the boat?”
“No, I just told him the way to Glebe Farm. I hope I haven’t done something silly.”
“Don’t worry about it, Molly. I’ll check with Luther. He was around last night. Tell me about this man who was asking for me. What did he look like?”
“Thirties, probably, er, navy blue jacket, I think, glasses. I’m sorry, I’m not very observant.”
Ralph thought hard. It was just possible it could have been a colleague from All Saints College. Mark Danvers had family in Rugby and might have looked in while passing on a visit there. He matched the description, such as it was, but it could have been almost anyone.
“Notice anything else about him, Molly?”
She shook her head. “Not really. I only spoke to him for a few seconds. He drove up to the shop when I was changing the postcards on the notice board in the window. He stuck his head round the door. Oh, I did notice his car, though.”
“What was it?” Danvers drove a white Peugeot.
“Dunno. I’m not very good at makes of cars. But his was a bit unusual. It was dark, black I think, with chrome over the wheels, not the actual wheels, you know, the bodywork.”
“Chrome wheel arches?”
“That’s right. It looked quite smart. I’d remember that car if I saw it again. Would it belong to one of your friends, Ralph?”
“Not as far as I know.”
*
Ralph arrived back to find Marnie on the phone to Randall Hughes. He had been the vicar at Knightly St John and after many differences of opinion with leading members of the community, he had been moved on by the bishop in a controversial appointment as Rural Dean of Brackley. A charismatic figure with a strong character, he had remained a friend and kept in touch with Marnie and Ralph. Marnie was chuckling when she disconnected.
“What’s he up to now?” Ralph asked.
“Doing his bit for democracy. He’s offered to help with the summer scheme if we need him.”
“Good for Randall,” said Anne who was sitting by the bank in a deckchair.
“And good for us. Also, he’s fighting back against Garth Brandon, against what he calls Brandon’s charm offensive.”
“In what way?” said Ralph.
“After the BFP convoy left here the other night they went down to Brackley, if you remember. Apparently, they went through their usual routine, stuck posters of Brandon all over the town centre, hundreds of them.”
Ralph frowned. “The BFP’s got serious resources behind it.”
“So has Randall,” said Marnie. “He’s got his own army.”
“The church militant?”
“That’s Randall.” Marnie grinned. “He’s mobilised his … what does he call them? … his guests.”
One of Randall’s initiatives had been to convert a large house in the middle of Brackley, bequeathed to the church, as a hostel. Anne described it as a drop-in centre for drop-outs. It had become popular and housed up to two dozen of the homeless and dispossessed at any given time.
“And?” said Ralph.
“He persuaded them to go round the town pulling down all the posters. Now, you’d never know Brandon’s lot had been anywhere near the place.”
“How did he manage to get them to do that?”
“He appealed to their higher nature and sense of public spirit.”
Ralph looked suspicious. “He did?”
“Offered them a cigarette for every ten posters they brought him.”
Anne squawked in the background. “That’s terrible! He doesn’t allow smoking in his hostel because it’s bad for their health, and now he gives them free fags.”
“Randall probably thinks the BFP would be even more harmful to their health. He said the end justified the means.”
“I think that was the argument of the Spanish Inquisition,” Ralph observed.
“And Hitler,” Anne added.
25
This was to be a Big Day. That Monday was the first day of the holidays and the start of the summer play scheme. Although it did not begin officially until enrolments at eleven o’clock, everyone at Glebe Farm was up by six-thirty. Ralph’s guard duty during the night had passed without incident and he had returned home before the school caretaker came on site. They planned to meet Serena and the other organisers at the school at nine to put up welcome posters and hang bunting and balloons. Despite their early rising, someone was up before them.
When the phone rang on Thyrsis, it was Ralph who took the call.
“Hi, Anne. Do you want to speak to Marnie? She’s in the shower just now.”
“No. I wanted you, Ralph. I think you’d better see this. Can you come?”
“On my way.”
The biggest surprise was not what had been done, but how it had been done without anyone knowing. Ralph surveyed the farm complex and shook his head. Anne stood beside him, frowning. On every door, every window and on most of the walls, the face of Garth Brandon smiled down at them, his slogan exhorting them to put Britain first. The courtyard was a mass of red, white and blue.
“You didn’t hear anything?”
“Nope.”
“Estelle and Luther were leaving for the airport by six.”
“Right.”
“When did you first see all this?”
“Just before I rang you. I glanced out as usual from my room to see what the weather was like. And there was his face, everywhere … Brandon. I can’t believe they could’ve done this without me knowing.”
“So between six and six-thirty. Too early for the paperboy to spot them. Too late for the milkman. No farmers likely to see them round here. Clever … and lucky.”
“But why do all this?” said Anne. “They know we’ll just take them down, and no-one but us will see them. It’s not as if …” Her voice faded. “It’s only intended for us. It’s a warning, isn’t it? It’s saying, we know where you live.”
She saw the fire bomb. It hurtled through her mind, and her imagination fanned the flames. Anne pictured again the buildings of Glebe Farm as they were when she first saw them over a year ago, gutted and abandoned, roof timbers pointing at the sky, charred black, like the ribs of a cremated carcass. She shuddered. There had been too many fires already that summer.
*
“Come on, everybody, lighten up.”
No-one had spoken since they set off from Glebe Farm. The atmosphere in Marnie’s Discovery would have done justice to a funeral car. She heard Ralph breathe out slowly beside her. Looking in the rear-view mirror she saw Anne’s glum expression on the back seat.
Anne caught sight of Marnie’s eyes reflected and she immediately snapped into Happy Face. “I wasn’t really looking sad, Marnie,” she said lightly. “I was struggling with a problem.”
“Which one in particular? We have so many to choose from.”
“I was trying to remember the words of that Cliff Richard number: We’re all going on a summer holiday. Thought it’d be nice to have a sing-song.”
Two grins began spreading in the front seats. Marnie laughed, and Ralph joined in.
“Idiot!” they chorused.
Not wanting to spoil the improved ambience, Marnie tried to keep up the tempo. “Well, at least the summer scheme will now help make things better. If it works as well as Serena hopes, there shouldn’t be any trouble with the youngsters over the holidays. They’ll be out of the way, one less thing to worry about.”