Although it wasn’t his day for being early Jimbo made sure he was in the Store the following morning to take the opportunity of having a word with Willie about the silver.
He came at his usual time.
‘Morning Willie, come to collect your paper?’
‘Yes.’ Willie went to the shelf where the papers were displayed and selected the one he wanted.
Jimbo said. ‘Willie, have you heard any rumours about old silver being found which belongs to the church?’
Willie’s head came up from looking at his handful of change. ‘Silver? Silver? What silver?’
Jimbo explained quietly, to one side so any customers coming in wouldn’t overhear.
‘Well, now, June 1940. Let me see.’ He scratched his head and looked into the middle distance as he pondered the problem. ‘Well, now, in June 1940 my old Dad was the verger. Yes, that’s right. My Dad.’
Jimbo looked eagerly at him. ‘He isn’t still alive, is he?’
‘No, no he died in 1943. Pneumonia got ’im when he was forty-four. Would garden in the pouring rain, he would. The rector then would be let me see, Reverend Edgar Levett, that’s right, Reverend Edgar Levett. He’s dead though. Went to London to ’is sister’s funeral and got killed with a flying bomb. Ralph’s father’s died, of course, in Malaya, so there’s no one left. They’d keep it very secret anyway, wouldn’t they? Wouldn’t be the sort of thing you’d tell in The Royal Oak of a night. Perhaps they were the only three who knew where it was. Silver you say, and you’ve seen it.’
‘That’s right. Beautiful stuff, Willie. We can’t let the old fox get away with this.’
‘Get away with it? It’s as plain as the nose on your face, he’d be stealing it. He’d be a thief. That’d look good in the papers. “Company chairman steals parish silver”. My paper would be rare and glad to get hold of a tale like that.’
‘True. True. Mum’s the word, Willie, don’t tell a soul. The rector knows, and I know, and now you. Well, Pat does, because she’s the one who found out.’
‘Pat does? Hell’s bells. All t’village ’ll know by teatime. Well, the rector ’ad better do something about it and quick, or that Craddock Fitch’ll need to flee for his life. You’ll have a job on keeping it secret if Pat Duckett knows.’
‘Willie! She’s promised me faithfully she won’t breathe a word.’
‘Oh yes? I’ll be off. I’ve a grave to dig, and a dozen and one things to attend to before my Sylvia and me get off on our ’olidays.’
Jimbo watched him leave. Everyone dead. What a blow. Still it was more than fifty years ago, it was only to be expected. He amused himself by imagining the newspaper headlines if it got out. Fitch plc would certainly be hopping about. Jimbo grinned. Then he remembered about his catering contract at the Big House and the money it was bringing in each month.
But it was to be more than two weeks before he needed to resolve that dilemma, for Craddock Fitch went from Budapest to Moscow and then on to Helsinki before returning home.
Chapter 3
Pat Duckett wandered early into The Royal Oak, hoping Willie and Sylvia would be in tonight. They’d be back from their holidays now, full of news. All week it had been quiet with only Jimmy and Vera to talk to. Might be a bit more lively if they came in. She pushed her way through the crowd hoping their favourite table might be free. It was. Pat took her port and lemon over and sat down on the settle. She surveyed the crowd. The bar was really buzzing tonight and not half. There were plenty of the real villagers in, but also a lot who’d come out from Culworth and around to enjoy the country atmosphere and the good beer Bryn stocked now. Not that Pat drank it. Rotten stuff. The downfall of her Duggie and not half.
Pat was determined not to mention about the silver being found up at the Big House. It would try her self-control and no mistake, but with her job with Jimbo at stake if she let on, she’d an awful lot to lose just for the sake of five minutes in the limelight. If she could prove to him she was irreplaceable with this bit of income on the side, ten pound notes in her hand and no questions asked, she might just start to have a bit better life. The kids cost so much to feed and clothe nowadays. And what with Dean doing so well at school he wouldn’t want to be leaving at sixteen. Duggie would have been so proud. She watched the door hoping someone she knew would come in. Tonight it didn’t matter who it was, she just needed to talk.
The swing doors suddenly burst open. It was Jimmy Glover waving a newspaper in the air.
‘I’ve won! I’ve come up! After all these years, I’ve made it. I ’ave. I ’ave yer know, I’ve made it!’ Jimmy shouted at the top of his voice.
Bryn came out from behind the bar. ‘Jimmy you never have! You’ve never won the pools!’
‘I ’ave, it’s ’ere in black and white. I’ve just checked mi pools and I’m right, I’ve won.’
‘How much?’
‘Don’t know. I don’t know. But I’ve won and I’m pretty sure it’s a lot of money. Twenty-five years I’ve been filling in the pools and tonight I’ve made it. At last! At last!’
Excitedly Pat stood up. She experienced a momentary shaft of jealousy. Why couldn’t it be she who’d won? Not much chance of that seeing as she’d never got the hang of filling in pools coupons. She hastened across to congratulate him. ‘Wonderful. Wonderful. I’m that pleased for yer, Jimmy, that pleased yer’ve no idea. What a turn up for the book. How much d’yer think yer’ve got then?’
‘Dunno, but it’ll be a lot. What will yer ’ave Pat?’
‘Gin and tonic, seeing as you’re paying. Aren’t you lucky Jimmy? I can’t believe it. Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant!’
Bryn shouted for his wife. ‘Georgie! come out here, come on, come out here. Alan, get Jimmy a drink on the house in honour of his win. It could be thousands, Jimmy, thousands.’
‘It could be a million but it won’t, thousands ’ll do for me. Where’s that Willie Biggs? ’As ’e come in yet? He’s been telling me all these years I couldn’t ’ope to win but I ’ave, I’ave.’
‘He’ll be in soon, saw him come back from his holidays a couple of hours ago.’ Bryn slapped Jimmy on the back and the customers gathered round to add their congratulations.
‘By Jove, Jimmy yer’ll be able to buy a new cap.’
‘You’ll have plenty of friends now Jimmy, and not half.’
‘Congratulations Jimmy.’
‘There’ll be no speaking to you now, we shall ’ave to touch our forelocks to yer.’
‘Some ’ope, I can remember Jimmy with the seat of his trousers ’anging out and Miss Evans lending him a spare pair she kept for when anyone wet ’emselves.’
‘Aw shut up.’
Jimmy, quite beside himself with the thrill of his win, told Bryn it was drinks on him for everyone and he’d pay when he got his winnings.
‘That new ale for me Alan, and don’t be mean with it.’
‘Gin and orange here, and a Cinzano and lemonade for my old girl.’
‘You’ve a cheek, I’ll give yer “old girl”.’
‘Ale for me, Alan, and be sharp about it, I’ve a thirst on me like I don’t know what!’
Alan Crimble the barman, with his habitual ingratiating smile on his face, attended to their requests. Georgie, petite and pretty, added her congratulations to Bryn’s.
‘Wonderful for you Jimmy, I’m really pleased. Take care of it though, however much it is it’ll soon disappear. Have you any plans?’
‘I’ve thought about tonight many a time and I decided years ago that when it ’appened I’d set miself up in business.’
The whole bar erupted with laughter. ‘You, set yerself up in business! That’s a right laugh. What as?’
‘A scrap-metal merchant?’
‘A rag and bone man?’
‘How about a gamekeeper? He’d be good at that. Plenty of experience!’
‘No. I bet he’s going to be a merchant banker.’
‘By gum, the City ’ad better watch out. Jimmy’ll ’ave �
��em by the scruff inside a week.’
‘International banking scandal, that’ll be it.’
‘No, no, “Unknown pools winner takes City by storm”.’
Jimmy began to look hurt, and Georgie took it upon herself to stop the ribbing. ‘That’ll do. You lot watch out, Jimmy’ll be showing you all the way to go home before long, won’t you Jimmy?’
Jimmy tapped the side of his nose with his forefinger and grinned at her. ‘They can laugh but I’ll ’ave the last laugh.’ He leant over the bar counter and whispered in Georgie’s ear. She listened intently and the customers who’d been pulling his leg strained to hear.
‘What a good idea that is.’ Georgie winked at him and then said, ‘You lot wait and see. You’re all in for a surprise. When will you know how much you’ve won, Jimmy?’
‘Monday or Tuesday, but I’ll know for definite on Wednesday how much it is, that’s when they declare the dividend. Perhaps they’ll be arriving in a big Rolls Royce to let me know. I can’t wait. Just fancy, the first Glover to be in the money! I shall celebrate by ’aving half a pint of cream delivered with the milk tomorrow, that Malcolm’ll ’ave a shock and not half.’
‘Might be an idea if yer paid yer bill, he told me last week he’d soon be stopping calling.’
‘Don’t worry, he’ll be paid good and proper when I get mi ’ands on mi money.’ Glass in hand, Jimmy went to his favourite spot opposite the settle nearest to the door and sat down with his newspaper to relive his excitement.
The other customers collected their free drinks from the bar and returned to their seats to mull over the unfairness of a ne’er-do-well coming into money when they’d spent all their lives working hard to earn a pittance. But Jimmy Glover didn’t care. His day had come. Excitement got the better of him and he called out, ‘I’ll have a bag o’ them salted nuts please, Bryn, if yer don’t mind.’
Someone shouted: ‘Oh, the last of the big spenders, is Jimmy.’
He remembered a saying of Miss Evans at school, and it was about all he did remember, ‘There is a tide in the affairs of men, Which taken at the flood, leads on to fortune’. He would do just that. He looked impatiently at the door, wanting Willie to come through it so he could tell him of his good fortune.
Jimmy sat relishing his time in the limelight. He’d show ’em. At last a chance to succeed, a chance to pull himself out of the mud and sit out in the sun, where often it seemed as though everyone sat except him. When he’d got organised he’d get another dog. A little Jack Russell like Sykes. Wouldn’t call it Sykes though, there’d never be another Sykes. A lump came to his throat when he thought about his old friend. Eleven years of devotion, that dog had given him. Ah well. The emotion of the evening turned into a moroseness he found hard to dispel. As customers left they came across to thank him and congratulate him again, but he couldn’t quite raise himself above his melancholy. If only his Mary had lived, he could have made her life so comfortable. All he had left of Mary was a few faded photos and her wedding ring in that carved wooden box of his mother’s where he kept a lock of their baby’s hair. And who had he to share his money with, now it had come? Nobody.
Pat went back to her favourite settle and sat opposite Jimmy.
‘What are yer going to do with yer money then, Jimmy?’
‘Don’t know yet, Pat.’
‘First thing yer can do is buy a new cap.’
Jimmy ignored her remark. ‘I’ll see how much it is first and then decide. I’d like to do mi cottage up. Put a bathroom in and ’ave a new kitchen. Get it painted and that, and then I’ll set miself up in business.’
‘What kind of business though?’
‘Not telling.’
‘That’s mean. Not telling! What are you qualified to do then?’
‘Nothing much. Look out, ’ere’s Willie! Over ’ere Willie, a drink for Mr Biggs, Alan, if you please.’ Willie bustled across and held out his hand. ‘Let me shake hands with you Jimmy, Thelma knocked and she told me yer good news. First chap I’ve known who’s won on the pools, after all I’ve said too. Congratulations, I’m really pleased and my Sylvia sends her love and says she’s thrilled for yer. By Jove, eh Pat, it’ll be a pound to speak to him now.’
Jimmy grunted. ‘It will not. Like all these big winners say “it won’t make any difference to me, I shall turn up for work on Monday as usual”.’
‘What work?’ Pat and Willie began laughing, but stopped when they realised Jimmy was offended.
‘You’ll be able to go on holiday now, you’ll be able to afford one of them glamorous cruises to the Caribbean on the QE2,’ Willie said as he nodded his head in acknowledgement of Alan bringing his drink across to the table.
‘Never mind about me going on holiday, you’ve just come back from yours. How was Cornwall?’
‘Well, I have to admit my wife and I had a lovely time, the weather was excellent, the sun shone most days and . . .’ Pat and Jimmy looked at him as though they were in shock; Jimmy almost choked on his beer and Pat’s mouth dropped open. ‘We were able to go out every day. It’s a lovely place is Cornwall for a honeymoon, have you ever been?’ He looked innocently up at them, then took a long draught of his beer whilst he waited for their reactions.
‘Willie!’ Pat shouted. ‘You ’aven’t gone and got married without telling anyone, ’ave you?’
Jimmy looked incredulous. ‘Married? You never ’ave, Willie, ’ave yer?’
Silence fell in the bar. All eyes were on Willie. He looked down at his drink, his face glowing with pleasure.
‘Yes, as a matter of fact we ’ave.’
The other customers gathered round to hear the news.
‘Where?’
‘Here in the church.’
‘Here in the church? Well, I never! When?’
‘Day we left.’
Pat protested unbelievingly. ‘But you left at half past nine, I saw the taxi come.’
‘The rector married us at eight and we left at half past nine.’ The customers offered their good wishes to Willie and his bride. ‘Thank you very much indeed, I’ll tell Sylvia when I get back, she’ll be delighted.’
Pat registered her disappointment. ‘We never ’eard nothing about banns being read.’
‘Special licence.’
‘Oh right. Crafty that was, crafty. Well, I’m right surprised at you, Willie. Verger at the church and sneaking in to get married and saying nothing to nobody. We’d have liked to give you a big send-off. I’m really disappointed.’
‘Well, that was just it. Sylvia wanted a quiet wedding.’
‘It was certainly that and no mistake.’
‘Our wedding service was very important to us Pat, and we wanted to be able to concentrate on what we were saying, so that was what we decided to do. Rector and Dr Harris were a bit disappointed, but they agreed with us in the end.’
‘Who else was there? ‘Cos whoever it was, they’ve kept mum and no mistake.’
‘The rector of course, Dr Harris with the twins, Sir Ralph and Muriel.’
‘Oh I see, they could be there but we couldn’t who’ve known you all these years. I’m right offended Willie and no mistake.’
Jimmy grunted, ‘A chap ’as a right to get married ’ow he likes. At least he’s made an honest woman of ’er.’
Willie objected. ‘That’s enough, thank you. What’s between Sylvia and me is entirely private.’
Pat laughed. ‘All right, Willie, keep yer hair on.’ She turned to Jimmy and asked, ‘Will you be next then, now you’ve got all this money?’
Jimmy brushed his moustache with the back of his forefinger and smiled wryly. ‘Well, I ’ad thought of popping the question to you, but maybe it wouldn’t be a good idea.’
Pat was enraged at the thought and told him so in no uncerain terms. ‘Married to you? Not Pygmalion likely. I’ve enough on my plate without adding you and yer smelly clothes and yer ferrets and geese to mi troubles. If I marry it’ll be to money.’
‘But that’s just
what he’s got, Pat, now. Money.’ Willie grinned at her and for a moment she hesitated, and then said, ‘He’d have to be a millionaire before I’d marry ’im.’
‘Well, he might be, yer never know.’
Jimmy offered his congratulations to Willie and said he was right pleased for him and he hoped they’d be very happy.
The conversation in the bar was rising to a crescendo, the news of Jimmy’s win and now Willie’s marriage causing consternation. ‘We don’t get far but we do see life,’ they were saying. It was nearly as good as that night when poor Sharon McDonald, God rest her soul, and her mother had that fight here in the bar, or that day when the bar was packed and Betty McDonald thumped Willie on the nose and came close to punching the rector. A few left earlier than they had intended so they could spread the news. Others stayed on in the hope that even more news might be revealed before the evening was over, and better still, more free drink.
Jimmy interrupted a story of Pat’s about the school and said, ‘I’ve been thinking that now Bryn’s dining room has been open a whole week and they’ll have got into the swing of things, would you like to join me for a meal tonight?’
‘Well, Jimmy, that would be lovely.’ Pat said not admitting that she had already eaten at home, but it had only been beefburgers and chips with ice cream to finish. She couldn’t bear the thought of missing a free meal. It was the first time Jimmy had ever offered anything of the kind.
‘What about you, Willie, do you fancy going and collecting your Sylvia and joining us? We could ’ave a joint celebration as yer might say. You owe it to us for us ’aving missed yer wedding. I’m paying. Bryn’ll see me all right till next week.’
‘Well, thank you very much.’ Willie stood up. ‘I’ll go get her right now.’
As he walked home up Stocks Row, Willie added up how many days he’d been married. Nine days, nine whole days. How on earth they’d managed to keep it secret he would never know. He chuckled to himself when he recollected how Mr Harris had leapt about from the organ to the altar steps and back. Good job he could play the organ as well as be rector! Lovely music it was, he couldn’t half play. When he saw his Sylvia coming down the aisle he couldn’t believe how lovely she’d looked. Dressed in a kind of silvery grey she was, which just matched her lovely big grey eyes. She’d put her hand in his with such love in her eyes he felt very humble. Then of course Sir Ralph couldn’t find the ring and searched every pocket till it finally came to light in Muriel’s handbag. Her face was scarlet and no mistake. They’d all laughed. That was the best thing about a quiet wedding it was so much more, what was the word, friendly, yes that was it, more personal like. The rector had played some lovely triumphant music when they’d walked down the aisle, stopping as they reached the door so that the village wouldn’t hear and wonder what was going on. Then they’d had a lovely champagne breakfast in the rectory and hey presto, the taxi was there and they were off. Not many men in his position had a baronet as his best man.
Village Matters Page 3