Village Matters

by Shaw, Rebecca

  ‘I know it’s lunchtime, but I think I’ll have a brandy. Just one.’

  He pulled a side table towards his chair and placed his coffee and his brandy on it. Muriel waited. Before long he would tell her what he’d been doing in London.

  ‘I’ve been up to see my solicitor.’

  ‘Yes, I know.’

  ‘Yes, well I listened to what you had to say and I’ve made a decision. You’re quite right, something needs doing, and I’ve come up with the answer.’

  ‘I see.’

  ‘It’s perfectly in order for me to go ahead, so I am.’

  ‘I see.’

  ‘In a way it’s going against an old steadfast arrangement, but I’ve got to do it.’

  ‘I see.’

  ‘When we shared everything when we married there was one thing we couldn’t share, and that was Prior’s Farm. That was under a completely separate arrangement and had to be kept in direct line because of its peculiar nature. So although I can ask you what you think, ultimately the decision is mine.’

  ‘Ralph, I can’t keep saying “I see” for much longer, because I don’t see. What are you trying to tell me?’

  ‘I’ve decided to . . . No, no, I was going to tell you the whole story, but frankly, Muriel, I think it would be a good idea if I didn’t say anything until I get back home. You see, Arthur may not agree, and then I shall have to disappoint you by telling you it hasn’t come off. Can you be patient with me a little longer?’ Ralph smiled at her.

  ‘Of course I can. I did want you to do something about straightening it out, but I didn’t know what to suggest.’

  ‘Well, what I’ve done I’ve done, let’s hope he agrees. The solicitors were all for putting my ideas on to a pile of work needing attention. But I said no, I want it doing right now, not in ten years’ time. This is a now decision, get your finger out and get it typed up, so I can come away with it in the morning. So they delivered it by messenger to the hotel this morning, about eight o’clock.’

  ‘Are you going now?’

  ‘No, it’s market day, Arthur won’t be back just yet.’

  ‘How do you know?’

  ‘Sebastian told me, he goes every week. So I’m going to lie down for a while and then set off and be back for dinner.’

  ‘Very well, dear. Whatever it is you’ve done, I’m sure it will be right.’

  ‘Let’s hope so, this feud has got to be stopped. These old wounds fester for generations, and there won’t be another generation after me so I’ve got to be the one to make the move.’

  ‘I do hope he doesn’t take umbrage and refuse to accept. He has got a wild temper, as we’ve seen.’

  ‘I’ll do my best.’

  Ralph had changed from his city suit into his tweeds before he left. He felt more comfortable wearing them, and they seemed more appropriate to the moment. The lane was just as smart and the yard, now sporting tubs of winter flowering pansies, still as neat as before.

  There was no one around, so Ralph rang the door bell. He heard heavy footsteps crossing the yard, and turned to see who was coming. It was Arthur.

  Ralph changed his briefcase over to his left hand and held his right hand out to Arthur. ‘Good afternoon, Arthur. Had a good day at the market?’

  Arthur shook his hand. ‘How did you know?’

  ‘Your Sebastian told me you usually went.’

  ‘Good opportunity for meeting other farmers and seeing if they’re doing as badly as yourself. What have you come to see me about?’

  ‘It might take some time. Shall we sit on the wall?’

  ‘If you like, or we can go inside.’

  ‘Somewhere where we won’t be overheard?’

  ‘No, the children are home from school, so the house is full. Come in the stable.’ He led the way across the yard to the end stable, opened the door, and invited Ralph inside. On top of some bales of hay he found two strong wooden crates, which he turned upside-down and placed on the stone floor. He invited Ralph to ‘take a pew.’

  ‘I’m very sorry about that time when I wouldn’t pass the collection plate to you. The rector told me off and not half. He’s only a young man, but my word, he’s got some kind of power, he has, he kind of sees right through you, and you’ve got to do what’s right. I finished up apologising to him but I was too stubborn and angry at the time to apologise to you, but I am doing now.’

  ‘That’s all right, Arthur, your motives were honourable and that’s what counts.’

  ‘You’re looking well now, bit thinner, but well. I come in here when I need to get away from them all, so I keep a bottle for private consumption, do you fancy a drop? Bryn’s best, it is.’

  ‘When I’ve finished what I’ve come to tell you, then yes, I’ll be delighted.’

  Ralph opened his briefcase and took out some papers. ‘A lot of water’s gone under the bridge since 1900. More than ninety years, and it’s time things were put to rights. I’ve come to suggest . . .’

  Arthur’s face lit up. ‘You don’t mean you’re going to suggest I buy the farm? Is that what you’re going to say?’

  ‘Well, not buy it exactly . . .’

  ‘What then, what’s your alternative? I’ve got the money all put by, just waiting for the day.’

  ‘It is in my power to release you from this ridiculous peppercorn rent you pay, and I’m here to say there’s no need to pay it any more.’

  ‘Bloody hell, Ralph, I’m not poor. Twenty-five pounds a year isn’t going to mean the difference between surviving or going under. What the hell!’

  ‘Arthur!’

  ‘Arthur nothing! If that’s all you’ve come to tell me you can put yer papers away and skit. Whilst I pay that rent it’s all legal; if I stop paying, then I’m under an obligation to you and I won’t have it, absolutely not. I will not be under an obligation to anyone with the name of Templeton. My father was bitter to the end of his days about the way your family treated his mother and him. It wasn’t his fault and it wasn’t her fault, it was your grandfather’s fault, but he never spoke to my father from the day he was born. Never acknowledged him, not once. He could pass him in the road and wouldn’t even look at him. His own father! I’d have thought you’d have had more sense than to come here with a daft notion like you have. Go on, get off my land.’ He sprang up from his crate and opened the bottom half of the stable door so Ralph could go. The horse in the stall whinnied its approval.

  ‘You’re too impulsive, Arthur. Be quiet and listen, we’re getting too old for stupid misunderstandings, there’ve been enough of those in the past. You and I, between us, are putting a stop to the trouble. Sit down, and listen.’

  ‘All right, then, all right.’ He answered impatiently and still with half a mind to make Ralph leave, then on second thoughts he sat back down again and waited.

  ‘Here are the deeds of the farm. Wallop Down Farm is its real name, did you know?’

  ‘No! Wallop Down Farm? That’s a daft name.’

  ‘These deeds are yours and your children’s. The farm is no longer owned by me nor any of my descendants. From today the farm is entirely yours and your children’s, forever.’

  The only sound in the stable was that of the horse gnawing the edge of the door. It stamped its feet and then whinnied joyously and then kicked the door. Ralph waited, observing the emotions flitting across Arthur’s face; first anger, then delight, then anger again, then a strange kind of yearning. Arthur held the deeds in his hands, turning them over and over, relishing the feel of the strong thick parchment, and the sound of its crackling in his hands. His finger traced the lines of writing on the front as he looked across the yard to his house, and then back to the papers.

  ‘I love this place. Love it, like I love nothing else. I love my boys and the grandchildren, but this,’ – he thumped the door of the stall with his fist – ‘this is me, it’s in my bones. Each morning I open my eyes glad, no, rejoicing that I have fields in which I can walk, woods that are mine to tend, crops that are mine to h
arvest, animals that are mine to feed and care for. But there’s always been that knowledge deep down that I was living a lie, because it wasn’t really, truly, actually, mine. My pride tells me I should throw these’ – he held up the deeds – ‘back in your face and tell you I shan’t accept favours from a Templeton, living or dead. But it’s no good, I can’t do that. If I die tomorrow I shall die a happy man now, and we can’t ask more than that, can we?’

  Ralph smiled and agreed. ‘And now where’s that drink we were going to have?’

  Arthur stood up and, going behind the bales of hay, he brought out a bottle of Bryn’s home-brewed ale and two glasses. He blew bits of hay out of the glasses and then poured them each a brimming glass.

  The two men stood facing each other. Ralph proposed a toast. ‘To Wallop Down Farm and the Priors!’

  ‘To the Priors, and long may they reign at Wallop Down Farm!’

  As Ralph was leaving, Arthur said, ‘I’ve half a mind to change the name, do you know that? Daft name, but it has a ring to it and if that’s its real name, why not?’

  ‘Why not indeed?’

  Chapter 23

  Ralph propped up the spade in the hall and called for Muriel. ‘I’ve collected the spade, dear, come and have a practice. The inscription looks good.’

  Muriel came from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron. ‘Oh Ralph, doesn’t it look lovely! I shall feel like the Queen.’ Muriel held the handle with both hands and rested her foot on the spade. ‘I declare . . .’ She laughed and put the spade back against the wall. ‘It’s so shiny and new, and I love the words you’ve chosen. Hipkin Gardens, it does sound grand. My father would have been delighted if he knew.’

  ‘Maybe the dead do know what the living are doing, so perhaps he does know.’

  ‘Yes, maybe you’re right. I’m well on with the nibbles and organising the table and the cutlery and things. I just need you to attend to the drinks side and I’m nearly ready. What’s it like out?’

  ‘Mild for the time of year, but most important, it’s fine.’

  ‘I do hope I don’t let you down.’

  ‘Of course you won’t. You’ll be just right. Memorised your speech?’

  ‘For the twentieth time, yes. It’s not long.’

  ‘Doesn’t need to be. I’m going for a rest after I’ve done the drinks. I’ll lie on the bed and watch you getting ready.’

  ‘That won’t take long, I’m all clean on underneath. I’ve only got to take my dress off and put my new suit on. I’ve been thinking of buying trousers to wear on cold days in the winter. Would I look silly, do you think?’

  ‘With your figure, Muriel, you’ll look enchanting.’

  ‘Thank you. You’re so good for my self-esteem. I’d none before we married.’

  ‘I’ve done you a good turn then?’

  ‘Oh yes, indeed you have. I’m so pleased about Arthur and the farm. You did the right thing there.’

  ‘It was your idea.’

  ‘No it wasn’t, it was yours.’

  ‘You may not have suggested it, but you planted the seed.’

  ‘Ralph, we must stop talking, I’m going to be late!’

  ‘Muriel, you’ve never been late in your life!’

  The sun came out as the crowd gathered to watch Muriel put in the first spade. Ralph had persuaded the builders to hang bunting around the trees, and they had improvised a small dais covered with a huge union jack for Muriel to stand on while she made her speech. There was quite a strong wind blowing and she was glad of the microphone; it was hateful to go to listen to a speech and then not be able to hear, and her voice wasn’t strong. She felt incredibly nervous. There were far more people there than she had anticipated. Everyone had come round to Ralph’s way of thinking and she was so grateful, if there’d been protesters there she would have been devastated. As it was she was having to summon up all her courage. Being on the sidelines fitted her personality better. She pulled the microphone down to her height and began her speech.

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen. It gives me great pleasure on this wonderfully special day to plunge in the ceremonial spade, beautifully inscribed to commemorate this special occasion to which Ralph and I have looked forward for so long. As many of you will know, my father, and generations of my family before him, were head gardeners at the Big House. When the estate was sold we moved away and at the time I had no idea that I would ever come back here again. But life has come full circle and I’m standing here with Ralph my husband, whom I have to confess was a childhood sweetheart of mine’ – the crowd cheered goodnaturedly at this – ‘to inaugurate the start of the building of houses for the village. The two of us have planned and schemed and worried about the designs, because we so wanted the houses to be exactly right for country people to live in. A glazed porch over the back door for boots and the dog’s water bowl, central heating, good-sized bedrooms, not rabbit hutches, two bathrooms so there’s no queue in the mornings, and a good-sized garage because country people need cars nowadays, and if you haven’t got one then you can always put the things you’re saving for the scout jumble sale in there, and lovely pleasant gardens too. We shall be retaining most of the lovely trees which we all find so delightful, so Hipkin Gardens will be a lovely leafy place to live. We’ve already got three names on our list of people interested in renting, so hopefully they will all be occupied as they become ready. I do hope they will be a useful and pleasant addition to our village. I hereby declare the commencement of the building of Hipkin Gardens.’

  Muriel stepped down from the dais and took hold of the spade. She grasped it tightly and, placing her foot on the top, pushed it firmly into the ground and removed the first sod.

  Cheering and clapping broke out amongst the crowd and Muriel, having had her moment in the limelight, quietly stood back for Ralph to say a few words. He mentioned the opposition, but in a kindly and understanding way, and said how pleased he was that now everyone agreed that the eight houses would be of great benefit to the village. He caught Arthur’s eye and smiled. A few of the crowd craned their necks to see who he was smiling at, and glanced at each other with knowing looks.

  Finally, Peter said a prayer for the happiness and well-being of the people who would be living in the houses, and then Ralph asked everyone home for champagne.

  Muriel and he led the way across the green to their house. She still missed Pericles running to greet her when she came home, but the press of all their friends and neighbours pouring up the lane behind them put him out of her mind.

  For the first half an hour Muriel was frantically busy attending to everyone’s needs. Ralph and Peter opened the champagne and Ralph proposed a toast ‘To Hipkin Gardens!’ They all clinked their glasses and drank the toast and then flocked to the dining room, where Muriel had laid out the food. There were people everywhere, in the sitting room, squeezed in the study, sitting on the stairs, and the hubbub was deafening.

  Deep in conversation on the stairs were Venetia Mayer and Pat. Ralph offered to refill their glasses. ‘Oh, yes please, Sir Ralph. Thank you very much.’ Pat took a sip of her champagne and listened to Venetia chatting up her host.

  ‘Thank you, Sir Ralph. What a lovely speech Lady Templeton gave. You’ve done the village a really good turn deciding to build these houses. It’s just what’s needed. Glad to see you looking so much better, you gave us all quite a turn when you had your heart attack, it’s lovely to see you up and about. And looking so well. It certainly hasn’t harmed your good looks. Still as handsome as ever!’

  Ralph bowed in acknowledgement. Pat nudged Venetia. ‘I don’t know how you dare to speak to him like that.’

  ‘Like what? I was only making him feel good. I read somewhere that you should try to make everyone you meet feel better for having spoken to you, so that’s what I was doing.’

  ‘Oh yes, sometimes you do go over the top with it though. Especially with one person I could mention.’

  ‘Who’s that?’

  ‘Craddock Fitch
.’

  At the mention of his name Venetia jumped and knocked Pat’s elbow, whereupon she spilled her champagne and it splashed on Venetia’s suit.

  ‘Oh, I’m so sorry, it hasn’t spoiled it, has it?’

  ‘No, I’ll dab it off, it’ll be all right.’

  Pat watched her drying the splashes and, not to be put off by the incident, pressed home with her quest for some inside information.

  ‘He seems to come to the Big House a lot.’

  ‘Well, he’s interested in making sure everyone is satisfied.’

  ‘Is he satisfied?’ Pat said with a knowing wink.

  Venetia wriggled out of that by saying, ‘Jeremy would be sacked and so would I if he wasn’t satisfied with our work.’

  Venetia grinned. Pat gave her a dig in the ribs and a wink. ‘Yer can’t do nothing in this village yer know, without us all finding out. I’ve written to Mr Fitch. Done it all official like. Told ’im we want to move into the house and Dad get the job permanent. Oh Venetia, yer’ve no idea how much I’m looking forward to it. A big house, all those bedrooms, and with our Dean studying so much it’s just what he needs, his own room.’

  ‘I’m quite envious of you Pat. It’s a lovely house. That view across Sykes Wood!’

  ‘I know. I’ve looked round it with the kids and mi dad. Our Michelle’s in ’er element. She’s in charge of the gardening at the school, yer know. Green fingers, Mr Palmer says she has. So she’s looking forward to ’elping Dad. And really it’s you I’ve got to thank for putting in a good word for us.’

  ‘That’s all right, Pat. You can invite me to tea one day when you get settled.’

  ‘Oh, right I will. Can’t invite yer where I live now, but when we’ve moved I will, that’s a date. Just going to find the bathroom.’

  ‘With the new house, and working for Jimbo and the school, things are looking up for you, aren’t they?’

  Pat gave Venetia a thumbs-up and wandered off. She requested directions and Muriel pointed her the way. As she went up the stairs she heard voices. Rounding the bend she came upon Linda from the Store and Alan Crimble. They were standing close together on the landing. Alan was holding Linda’s hand and she was straightening his hair. ‘You should comb it over to this side, Alan, it looks more modern like that. Oh!’ They hastily broke apart when they saw Pat.