‘Not necessarily; she’s always very careful not to let on about what goes on in the Rectory, just like you were.’
Sylvia had to concede that point. They continued on with their gossiping by going round the table so that each one of them related the history of their own education in comparison to Beth’s missed opportunities, mostly at the Turnham Malpas village school, of course. Sylvia reminded them all about Dottie when she was at school. ‘Poor Dottie, her mother was already crackers when she was born, I’m sure, though we never mentioned it to her. She’d a terrible start in life. Her mother used to keep Dottie from school on her bad days, so if we started long division on a Monday Dottie would be away and by the time she got back we’d most of us got the hang of it, so she got left behind yet again. Pity that. That was why she became a . . . you know what, isn’t it, Willie?’
Willie groaned inside but bore it like a man. ‘Indeed. Never stood a chance. I miss her, just got that matter-of-fact side to her you can’t help but like. ’Nother round anybody?’ When they all nodded he got to his feet, picked up the tray and went to the bar.
With his back to the door Willie was unaware of who it was that had walked in. With mouths agape in surprise they silently watched him make his way to the bar, and Willie, busy balancing the tray to avoid spills, turned away from the bar to find himself facing Johnny Templeton.
Eyes wide with surprise he stuttered, ‘Come and join us, OK? If you want. Nice to have you back.’ Willie walked towards his table, eyes still wide with surprise. Putting the tray down, he began handing out the glasses saying softly, ‘Have you seen who’s just come in? Sylvia, go warn Alice.’
Sylvia stood up and quietly wandered over towards the ladies’, knowing the side door was most probably unlocked. It was. She dashed out, crossed in front of Jimbo’s house and Tom and Evie’s and tapped on Alice’s door. She’d be sure to be in. It was too late for piano lessons or singing lessons.
She heard Alice’s footsteps on the stone-flagged floor of the hall, heard the bolts being pulled back, and there stood Alice. Too late, Sylvia knew she should have worked out what to say before she knocked.
‘Hello! Sylvia, do come in.’
‘I wasn’t going to.’
‘Oh! I see.’ Alice couldn’t remember Sylvia ever knocking on her door before and was at a loss to know what on earth to say to fill the silence. ‘Can I help?’
‘There’s a message.’
‘Yes?’
When Sylvia remained silent Alice asked what the message was.
‘It’s just that someone’s come back.’
The blood drained from Alice’s face. ‘Who?’
Sylvia’s tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. ‘I thought you should be warned.’
‘It’s not Marcus, is it?’
‘No-o-o. It’s the other one.’ That sounded terrible, as though she had a string of men.
Alice’s knees began to buckle and Sylvia caught hold of her elbow. ‘Now, now, don’t you faint on me; it’s not that awful, is it? Him coming back – isn’t that what you want?’
Alice said, ‘Are you sure?’
‘I’ve seen him. He’s having a drink in the pub with the others, and we thought it best to warn you, then you couldn’t get a shock. Well, I don’t mean a shock, I mean a surprise, in case he’s come back a bit unexpected.’
Alice visibly pulled herself together, saying, ‘Thank you for telling me.’
Sylvia nodded and then headed back to the pub.
Unbeknown to Sylvia and Alice he’d already been asking about Alice, claiming he’d had to go back to Brazil in a hurry on important business. Then with no more ado he asked to their horror about Marcus.
Don, unfazed by his question, plunged in with, ‘Well, he’s up in London having got someone interested in buying his book, and hasn’t been seen since. Poor Alice; it’s just not fair leaving her all on her own. He hasn’t even got in touch. Mind you, she did turn him out one night, lock, stock and barrel, so there’s no wonder.’
At this point Sylvia slipped back into her chair as though returning from the ladies’. Under the table she pressed the palm of her hand on Willie’s knee and squeezed it to let him know her mission was completed, then smiled a greeting to Johnny. He acknowledged it and then said, ‘So she’s on her own now?’
‘Seems like it, but she’s lost her sparkle,’ said Marie.
Johnny appeared to clutch at this idea. ‘Has she now? I think I’d better go see how she is.’ He left immediately, his pint of home brew abandoned only half drunk.
‘I mean, let’s face it: like it or not, they were lovers.’ Sylvia gazed soulfully into her glass and Don reached across to pat her hand. In a loud voice he said, ‘Living in sin, more like.’
A gasp of embarrassment went round the table but Don remained oblivious. He drained his glass and got to his feet. ‘Come on then, our Vera, let’s be off.’
Without waiting for Vera to struggle out from the settle he set off, just in time to see Alice talking to Johnny at her front door.
‘Alice, please let me in. I need to explain.’
‘Why should I?’
‘Because I love you, as you well know.’
‘Then if you love me, why did you leave without a word of explanation?’
‘Because I misunderstood.’
Alice opened the door a little wider, and then reluctantly let him in. She didn’t intend telling him her news. Or was it his news?
What Alice needed at the moment was a cup of tea, so as it gave her something to do other than being flustered by Johnny being back, she filled the kettle and got out the tea cups.
He stood close to her, drinking in the beauty of her, the smell of her perfume, the sway of her body as she hurried to find a tray and a plate of biscuits.
‘Alice! What is the matter? Will you let me explain? Please stop rushing about and let me tell you.’
They sat together on the sofa in the kitchen. Alice, conscious this was the first time he’d been in her house, knew it felt good, but she’d have to wait for his explanation before she could begin to enjoy him being there. ‘Well?’
‘Well.’ He took her hand and though she tried to pull it away he wouldn’t allow it. Instead he kissed each one of her fingers, then turned her hand over and kissed the palm and the joy of his touch took her from being furiously angry to longing to hear his reasons.
He caught sight of her half smile and knew she was ready to listen. Johnny began by telling her of the women who pursued him back home in Brazil. ‘They said exactly the kind of thing you said, but unlike you they were not wanting me, not the real Johnny Templeton; they wanted the social position and the lifestyle that the wealth of my family could promise them. I’m not boasting; I’m simply telling it how it is out there. When you said about loving me, you were using words I’d heard before from women who didn’t care what kind of a man I was. They would have put up with any behaviour on my part just to get at the money. I can’t pretend I’m not well off – I am – but it counts for nothing compared to how I feel about you. I’ll give it all away if you’ll have me.’
‘You forget I’m not free.’
‘You could be.’
‘But I’m not. I don’t even know where Marcus is. I know he’s in London but that’s all. He’s changed his mobile so I can’t even phone him. I’ve tried calling it over and over, but it’s dead.’
‘What’s he doing in London?’
‘He’s got a publisher interested. You can imagine what that’s done for him.’
‘Has he? He must be over the moon, I expect. In that case you can get in touch with him through his publisher.’
‘At the moment it pleases me not to be in touch with him. At least he’s stopped asking me for money, but I don’t want him coming home. I think he’s found another woman.’
Johnny wasn’t quite sure how to take this news. Surely this was the moment for asking about a divorce? Alice seemed distant from him, which Johnny couldn’t understand
. Didn’t she want him? Had he got it all wrong?
‘I’ve come because I didn’t hear from you, and because I know for certain I can’t live without you. You do acknowledge that, don’t you? I want you and I would be married tomorrow if we could; even tomorrow isn’t soon enough. I’ve lost all enthusiasm for the hotel business – there’s no pleasure in it any more. I want the here and now with you in my house, in this village that eighteen months ago I didn’t even know existed and I want to take up a life like Great-Great-Uncle Ralph had. I want to be Sir Jonathan Templeton of this parish and go to church with you, and go to the races and the county show, and do things that country people do. I’m a good shot and I ride so I’m halfway there.’
Alice smiled properly for the first time. ‘It sounds lovely. Just right for an English country gentleman.’ She held his hand against her cheek and he felt her welcome him at last.
‘Alice! I want the children you’ve longed for. The eldest boy would inherit the title, wouldn’t he? I have need of a son and heir.’ He smiled at his own foolishness but Alice looked the other way and didn’t reply.
‘I can afford a dozen if you like.’ Johnny placed a finger under her chin and turned her face towards him, but his heart chilled when he saw her expression. The welcome had begun to melt away and he didn’t know what to say next to paint the picture that would finally entice her into his arms, and they ached for her. ‘I’ll pour the tea,’ he said softly.
She accepted the tea and drank almost the whole cupful, scalding hot though it was. ‘Darling! Be careful! A biscuit?’ What had happened to the suave, talkative, polished socialite he had been all his adult life? He’d never been at a loss for words before. He felt so tender towards her, so caring, yet he couldn’t put his feelings into words.
Alice accepted a biscuit and rapidly devoured it. She helped herself to another.
But still she didn’t explain how she felt. Johnny stood up and made as though he was about to leave.
‘Should have come to see you earlier today, but I needed a long sleep. You know how it is. Jet lag. I know it must be a shock to have me come back so unexpectedly. I’ll go now, give you space, time to think. I mean every word I said about living here in the village. If you don’t want me any more I shall still be here to delight in seeing you, even if it’s only a glimpse, to hear you play, to listen to your heavenly voice singing something wonderful as only you can. Any time you want me you know where I am, when you’re ready. Dearest heart.’ Johnny bent over her, kissed her forehead with genuine tenderness, squeezed her hand and left.
Alice sat alone sipping tea, eating biscuits, torn apart by longing and indecision.
Johnny returned to the bar, but Dottie had turned up in his absence, and they were all preoccupied with her arrival, so silently he picked up his glass and went to sit by himself, deep in thought, at the small table by the big open fireplace.
Dottie had quietly bought herself a drink at the bar and then, taking a deep breath, approached the table with the long settle down one side. Busy speculating about what might be going on between Alice and Johnny, they hadn’t noticed her come in and were surprised when she said, ‘Hello, I’m back. Anyone sitting here?’
Willie pulled the chair out for her. ‘If there is, they’re not any more, because it’s yours and you’re welcome, Dottie. We’ve missed you, haven’t we? All of us. And I’m dead sorry about what I said. It was uncalled for and I can’t apologise enough.’
Sylvia, grateful for Willie apologising so sincerely said, ‘And if you hadn’t come back we’d have had to cancel the embroidery group next week. Sheila Bissett tried doing your filling in but made a hopeless mess of it, so believe me you’ll be welcomed with open arms on Monday.’
Dottie acknowledged the compliment by patting Sylvia’s hand. ‘Right, don’t panic, Dottie’s back and ready for work. I’m back at the Rectory tomorrow and Pat Jones has left a note to say I’m booked for helping her at a big do at the Old Barn this Saturday, so it’s a good job I’m back. This village can’t function without me, apparently.’ She grinned at them all and they raised their glasses to her and said ‘Amen to that!’ And Dottie sighed with relief.
Chapter 10
Johnny’s invitation to dinner, promised weeks ago when Alice’s world was not nearly so complicated as it was now, plopped through the letter box late one night. Hers was addressed only to her, no Marcus of course, and tearing the envelope open she felt tears rising. So here it was, Friday night next week, seven for seven thirty. Alice read the fancy card again, re-read the envelope and couldn’t decide what she should do. When Marcus told her Johnny had been that time to ask which was the best night for her and after that he’d gone back home, she’d dismissed the whole idea from her mind, but obviously Johnny hadn’t.
What a totally impossible situation this created. If she didn’t go, what would her excuse be? She’d find one, that was for sure. Only Johnny would know it wasn’t true; the others wouldn’t. Before she knew it the baby would be showing, and then the cat would be out of the bag, so to speak. Johnny had not troubled her since that first time. She’d seen him passing the house once or twice but they hadn’t actually met face to face. After that tense arrival of him at her door, flowers had arrived the following day from the most expensive florist in Turnham Malpas with a card that declared her his own Alice, the love of his life and at the bottom the single word ‘waiting’. But that was all.
She put the invitation card on the mantelpiece and stood back to admire it. The idea that ran through her mind was if she got Marcus to come back, his ego would make him accept the baby was his, rather than face the truth, even though he knew it was impossible. If she knew nothing else about him she knew he was totally capable of deceiving himself. Then she’d never have to tell Johnny. Thank God for that. Why was she glad? Because it meant he wouldn’t have to marry her out of guilt, nor obligation, nor pity. That was it, yes. She’d get Marcus back.
The very second she had made her decision she knew what a fool she was. She would be the deceiver, not Marcus, nor Johnny . . . only Alice, with the whole of her life lived in a never-ending fog of guilt. With a jolt it also occurred to her the wrong she would be doing to her baby; it too would be deceived all its life. How could the wonderful loving time she’d had with Johnny become such a sullied, complicated affair?
She was already seven or eight weeks gone, she guessed, so the day for the big revelation was fast approaching. Decision time had arrived and the honest truth, when looked at from all angles, was what had to be declared.
The following night, after the last of her piano pupils had left, she combed her hair, checked her face, made sure she had her house key and set off round Stocks Row to Johnny’s house, her heart all of a flutter remembering the last time she’d told him the truth and the hair-raising result of that.
When she rang the doorbell it had a new sound. Mmm, new doorbell. I wish I felt as jolly as it sounds. She heard his beloved positive footsteps coming down the hall and there he stood. Looking wonderful. Absolutely wonderful. Her heart seemed to leap to her throat. ‘I’ve come.’
Johnny’s face shone with love for her. He reached towards her, took her hand and drew her in over the step with the intention of kissing her.
‘No! Not yet! You have to hear what I have to say first.’
He looked shocked as he asked, ‘Have you come to say no?’
‘Can we go in and sit down?’
‘Of course.’ He opened the sitting room door and she followed him in and chose to sit in a chair where her face was in a slight shadow. He sat down too.
‘You said you want children?’
‘Yes, I do.’
‘Well . . .’ Her news came out in a rush. ‘I’m already expecting a baby and it’s yours. There, I’ve said it and it’s the truth; it is yours. I’m about seven or eight weeks. No doubt about it. That’s what I came to say. If you want me to go I will. I just thought you ought to know; it’s only right and fair you should.’
The emotions, the conflicting emotions that crossed Johnny’s face told her nothing. First his face lit with joy, then it changed to sadness, and she dreaded what he was going to say, then it softened into tenderness, then he drew a great breath and he asked, ‘How do you know it isn’t Marcus’s?’
‘Because for almost eighteen months now Marcus has not been able to . . . well . . . perform . . . Not at all. He never discussed the problem but then he’s like that; he avoids talking about things and hopes they’ll go away. Thoughts have been charging round my head ever since I knew I was pregnant. You’d gone back to Brazil so I thought, no, I won’t tell him – he obviously isn’t interested in hearing news like this. If Marcus comes back I’ll say nothing and when it’s obvious he’ll take it on board and he’ll persuade himself it’s his because it boosts his ego and admitting the truth wouldn’t. Boost his ego, that is.’ There was nothing more she could say. His forearms were resting on his thighs, his hands were twisting together, over and over again and his head was bowed, so Alice couldn’t even see his face to guess his reaction.
‘I’m thrilled to bits, Johnny. It’s what I’ve wanted for years, but daren’t because we’d have had no income for a while and Marcus was writing and hoping . . . and Marcus . . . well, I don’t know what he’ll think . . .’
‘Do we have to go on talking about that damned Marcus? On and on?’
The suddenness of his outburst shocked Alice. He was so very angry.
Still looking down at his hands Johnny said through clenched teeth, ‘The man is a damned waste of space and not worth one single moment of consideration from you. He’s treated you like dirt all these years and still you are concerned for him. I don’t want his name mentioned in my presence ever again. As far as you and I are concerned we’ll wipe him off the face of the earth. Do you hear me? Mmm?’
‘I heard you. Yes.’ Alice still didn’t know how he felt.
His hands relaxed and he looked up at her. ‘Sorry for shouting; you don’t deserve it. Come and sit with me.’
A Village in Jeopardy (Turnham Malpas 16) Page 10