by Rebecca Shaw
Ron and Sheila went four times that week to the Health Club. Sheila was not nearly as keen as she had been but couldn't permit Ron to go up there on his own. Heaven alone knew what might take place in the sauna. Ron had taken a great liking to them.
'Help me to lose weight you know Sheila, which is just what we want isn't it?'
'Yes it is.' Privately she wondered if she would be better offkeeping Ron overweight.
The crunch came when Sheila lost Ron one afternoon. They'd both been for a swim and done their scheduled exercise plan which was taking longer now they were getting better at it. Then Sheila had got changed and they'd arranged to meet in the pool bar for a drink before they went home.
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Sheila ordered her gin and orange and sat perched on one of the high stools watching some children swimming and waiting for Ron. She assumed he'd be along soon. After twenty minutes she went in search of him. She tried to appear casual, not wanting to have to admit to losing him. She opened the door of the men's changing room and called in a loud stage whisper, 'Ron, Ron are you there?' There was no reply. She wandered around for a little longer, looking here and looking there until besides the treatment rooms, there was only the gym left to check. Sheila looked through the glass panel in the door. Ron was laid on his back working hard on a weights machine, pushing up and down, up and down under the close supervision of Venetia. She was alternately holding his hands and helping him push and then holding his legs to stop him lifting his knees. Ron was working away as though he was a young man of twenty not an old man of sixty-six. The stupidist grin imaginable was creasing his face. She marched in and stood beside them. They were so preoccupied that at first they didn't notice her.
'What are you trying to do to him? Kill him?'
Ron let go of the handles and sat up abruptly. Venetia stood up and said, 'You've got a much better movement now Sir Ronald. You just needed a little help.'
'Let's get home. I've been waiting twenty minutes for you Ron.'
By the time Sheila had made their bedtime cup of tea, Ron wished he hadn't been born. It was all so innocent he kept telling Sheila, but she wouldn't listen.
'It was an excuse for getting her to paw you all over. And what's more you were enjoying it. I wasn't born yesterday Ron. She's a nympho . . . whatever it is. Look how she pursued the rector. Disgusting that was. She's man mad and anyone will do.'
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'That's not very flattering to me.'
'One more word out of you and I shall tell the world and then where will your political career be? Down the pan that's what. And what's more I don't care. And another thing, first thing tomorrow I'm getting my leopard skin coat out of store and wearing it as soon as it's cold enough, so you can put that in your pipe and smoke it.'
'No, Sheila don't do that.'
'You're in no position to tell me what to do Ron Bissett. I listened to you about going up in the world and dressing like Sadie Beauchamp. Well I'm not listening any more. In fact I think I shall ring the Sun tomorrow and let them know, anonymously of course, what really goes on up there.'
'If you did that, membership would rocket. It would really takeoff.'
'You're right it would.' Sheila caught Ron's eye and they both started laughing. 'Honestly Ron, what were you thinking of?'
'Just an old man flattered by her attentions. At bottom I knew it was all a sham. I couldn't have done anything about it if I'd wanted to, could I?'
'I doubt it, though if you got fitter you might.' Sheila sat up and looked down at him. 'That's it Ron, get fitter and perhaps we could resume diplomatic relations.'
'Right then old girl.'
'Not too much of the old girl Ron, I'm not drawing my old age pension yet. Shall we keep going and both of us get fit? You hear about these pensioners who have an exciting sex life. Let's have a try shall we Ron? There's not much else on the horizon is there? You get fit and me as well and I won't get my leopard skin out of storage and then we'll go for a second honeymoon. We'll have to hope you don't have a heart attack that's all. And
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remember no getting Venetia to pay you undue attention, 'cos you'll have me to answer to if you do. I'll maim her for life . . . right where it hurts.'
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Chapter 14
Sylvia broke the news to Caroline on her return from her holiday with Willie.
'Have you a moment Dr Harris?'
'Of course Sylvia, if you don't mind me burping Alex while we talk.'
'No that's all right. I've managed to find somewhere else to live.'
'Oh Sylvia, you don't mean you're leaving me?'
'Oh no, well, that is if you still want me to work here.'
'Well, of course I do. We get on so well together. Peter and I really appreciate your help, you know that. Where will you be living? Is it in the village?'
'Well, yes, it is.'
'Oh where? I didn't know there were any cottages empty.'
'There aren't. I don't know how to say this, but I'm going to live next door, with Willie.'
To give herself time to think, Caroline carefully wiped Alex's mouth where some food had spilled out when he burped. Sylvia, stacking the diswasher, cast sidelong glances at her while she worked.
'It's no one's business is it, but mine and Willie's?'
'No, that's quite right. Have you thought this out properl . . . Sorry. Sorry, Sylvia, of course you have, you're not a child, you've a perfect right to do as you
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wish.'
'I can't contemplate marriage yet, you see.'
'Why not?'
'Because I got such a rotten deal the first time round. My first husband was a womaniser. The pain I suffered was intolerable. I put up with his unfaithfulness for fifteen years and when he got killed, I had all on not to cheer. No woman should be asked to put up ·with what I did. They wouldn't nowadays, you know Dr Harris. They'd divorce them straight off. I wish I'd divorced him years back. But marriage is marriage and I stuck to what I'd promised.'
'I'm sorry you had such a hard time of it.'
'That's why I can't marry Willie, not yet anyway. When I said those marriage vows before, I meant it and I stuck to 'em. I daren't make them again until I'm really sure.'
'Willie's not like that though Sylvia.'
'No, but I've yet to be convinced. Trouble is, he daren't tell the rector.'
'He's no need to, I shall. Your private lives are your own. We can't avoid him knowing but I don't know what he'll feel about it. He's old fashioned where things like that are concerned. Church's teaching and all that.'
'He might not want me to work for you then?'
'He will, because I can't manage without you. Leave it to me.'
Caroline suggested Sylvia went out for the evening. She wanted her out of the way while she tackled Peter.
He loved treacle pudding and she'd made an especially good one for him. He sat back after his second helping and complimented her on the sheer perfection of it.
'That was splendid Caroline. How you manage such delights with so much to do I don't know.'
'I wouldn't if I didn't have Sylvia to help me. You'd be
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making your own treacle pudding if I didn't have her.'
'If she looks like leaving give her a rise. We can't afford to lose her."
'I know. Do you want to finish the wine?'
'I'll have another drop, do you want some more?'
'No thanks. You finish it. Have you seen Willie today?'
'Yes, of course. Why?'
'I just wondered. Was he all right?'
'Bit quiet, but he seemed OK. Why are you so concerned about Willie?'
'I'm not. You couldn't manage without him could you, just like I can't manage without Sylvia.'
'Caroline, is this leading up to something?'
'Well, I have to be truthful. Yes it is.'
'He isn't leaving is he?'
'No, he's taking in a lodger.'
'A lodger. In that
little cottage? Who is it?'
'Sylvia.'
Peter put down his wine glass, stood up and went to look out of the dining room window.
'Can you tell me why? Are they getting married?'
She explained what Sylvia had told her.
'I see. Well, they sound like good reasons.'
'They are.'
'But I can't be seen to condone it. It's quite against my principles.'
'I promised myself some time ago that I would never use what I am going to say next in any discussion we had. I made that a sacred vow to myself. But on behalf of your reputation in this village I have to remind you that where marriage vows are concerned the rector must be seen to tread extremely warily. After firing that particular salvo I shall retire to stack the dishwasher and empty the drier.'
Caroline had set the dishwasher going and was folding nappies onto the top of the tumble drier when Peter
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finally came to find her.
'I can't accept that what they are doing is right, because it isn't. Willie is the verger here and as such should be showing some example to the parish. However, as you so rightly and tenderly reminded me I am in no position to comment. Forgive me Caroline.' Peter stood waiting for her reply. She finished folding the nappies, held the last one to her cheek, relishing the soft warmth of it and then turned to him.
'My darling, you know I forgave you months ago. I may not forget, 1 have two constant reminders day and night and I can't avoid the memories, but I have forgiven you. Lock stock and barrel forgiven you.'
Peter held out his arms and drew her to him.
When Willie met Peter in the churchyard a few days later, he knew he had to say something about Sylvia. They'd both kept silent about it and Willie didn't enjoy being estranged from the rector. It made life very difficult; the air needed clearing.
He leaned against the side of the shed, took out his pipe and when he'd got it going to his satisfaction he looked at Peter and began his apology, 'I know, sir, that as rector you won't agree with what Sylvia and I have arranged.'
'That's right Willie.'
'I also know that as the verger I ought to set an example, but it's like this. When I was a boy I fancied girls like all boys do, but the years went by and I never met one I wanted to share the rest of my life with. A quick roll in the hay, begging yer pardon sir, and goodbye was my philosophy. Then I clapped eyes on Sylvia and wished both she and I were thirty years younger. But we're not. We haven't got a right lot of time left, well not enough anyways. She's the first one I've met I'd really want to share my life with, not temporary but permanent like. She's told me all about 'er
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first, and I can understand why she can't make 'er mind up. She's got to be sure and she isn't yet. So I've had to compromise, as you might say. I can't face spending the rest of my life without her, so at the moment its second best as far as I'm concerned. As soon as she's sure we shall be up that aisle.'
'I'm glad to hear it, Willie. Let me know when she decides and we'll regularise things. Meanwhile, we won't discuss it any more. You're both grown people and know full well what you're doing. I do know this, she's a tremendous help to my wife and lovely to have around. You've got good taste.'
'There'll be a lot of gossip in the village and I shan't like it but I expect it'll be a nine days' wonder and then they'll get something else to talk about. I'd be glad if you didn't say anything about me hoping to get married. It might make Sylvia feel obliged when she isn't.'
'I shan't say a word Willie. And if, when the time comes, you want to keep the wedding a secret, then so be it.'
'I'll be round tomorrow to dig that border for yer sir. Yer know your good lady guessed all along it had been me and not you doing your garden, but she never said a word did she?'
'No, she didn't, not to me anyhow.'
'She's a lovely lady sir. You're well blessed and so am I with my Sylvia.'
'Indeed we are both well blessed. By the way Willie I've asked several times about you giving me a lift down with that tin trunk in the boiler house store room, but we haven't got round to it yet. How about it?'
'Can't find the key sir.'
'Well, then we shall have to saw through the padlock.'
Til be round like I said to do the plants.' Willie spun on his heel and disappeared into the shed.
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Two days after Sylvia had moved into Willie's cottage, she went shopping for the rectory and bumped into Gwen collecting her groceries. Gwen's coat button caught on her basket. As she tried to disentangle them she said, 'I'm sorry Miss Baxter.'
'Not sorry enough, you slut.'
'I beg your pardon?'
Gwen raised her voice. 'Slut, I said.'
'What do you mean?'
'You know very well. Listened to Willie's sweet talk have you? Let yourself get persuaded eh? Not even his ring on your finger.'
'I think you need to mind your own business.'
'We've got eyes. We see what you're up to. Tainted, that's what you are, TAINTED. A scarlet woman.'
Gwen's voice grew louder and brought Jimbo out from behind the meat counter.
'Miss Baxter would you please pay for your groceries and leave.'
'Leave? Oh yes, I'll leave. I wouldn't want to be consorting with women like her. Harlots and sluts. Toys for men's pleasure, that's what you all are, toys. You'll all end in hell.' She glared around at the customers who were all staring at her, wagged her finger at them and then went to pay Linda who stood waiting by the till to take her money. Sylvia blushed bright red, put down her wire basket and fled from the Store to the safety of the rectory.
By the time Gwen had left, those who hadn't known about Willie and Sylvia now certainly did. The hubbub in the Store was raised several decibels.
'Wonder where that Gwen thinks she'll end up, considering what she's done?'
'Lucifer 'ull have it nice and hot for her I bet.'
'Nasty old besom she is. Open that door, Mr Charter-Plackett, and let some fresh air in. After what she's done I
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don't know how you can let 'er in 'ere to shop. If it was me I'd refuse.'
'Can't do that, they'd both starve.'
'Serve 'em right for what they did to your Flick. Mind you she was right about them two.' The speaker nodded her head in the direction of Willie's cottage. 'And 'im the verger too.'
'Like rector like verger,' someone at the back said and laughed rather too loudly.
Pat Duckett waiting in the Post Office queue interrupted. 'No cause for you to say that Bet, he's lovely is our rector and 'is wife is too.'
'Oh yes he certainly is, too lovely if you ask me,' Bet said, nudging the woman next to her and winking.
'Nobody asked you, it's no business of yours, seeing as you come from Penny Fawcett.'
'He's our rector as well yer know.'
'Not like 'e is ours.'
'No, but I can offer an opinion.'
'Oh no you can't, you old cow.' Pat left her place in the queue, marched to the back and swung her handbag resoundingly round the head of the woman from Penny Fawcett.
Before Jimbo knew where he was he had a fight on his hands.
'Ladies, ladies, if you please.' He waded into the melee intending to extricate Pat, but his boater was knocked off and he came close to getting a black eye. Peace eventually restored, he retired to the mail order office and sat, considerably shaken, on Sadie's stool.
'There are times when I wonder if it's all worthwhile trying tc make a living. Those women were at it tooth and claw. That Gwen has a lot to answer for.'
'I heard the skirmish and saw you disappear into the fray. Masterly it was, Jimbo.'
'All right Sadie, enough of your sarcasm. The sooner
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those two women are in prison the better.'
'I think they'll get off due to their age or something.'
'Surely not?'
'Wouldn't surprise me. The law is such an ass nowadays. I'd g
et prison for a motoring offence, but I bet they don't for kidnapping Flick.'
'Heaven alone knows what will happen if they do get off
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Chapter 15
That week Harriet and Jimbo got notification of the date for the court case. What they had dreaded confronting was about to become reality. They decided not to tell Flick until nearer the time. There seemed no point in her worrying for days before there was any need. The letter revived all their hatred of Gwen and Beryl.
The following day Harriet noticed that Gwen seemed very confused when she came in for her regular shop. Harriet got Gwen's newspaper out for her and put it ready on the counter. She watched Gwen move vaguely along the shelves and pick up a loaf of brown bread and two Chelsea buns. Then she went to the greengrocery and chose some parsnips. All the time Harriet had been in the Store she'd never seen Gwen buy parsnips. Carrots and swede yes, but not parsnips. Then Gwen went to the meat counter and selected a small pack of braising steak and a piece of pork fillet. She went back to the greengrocery and took a long time choosing two apples and two pears. Then she went to collect their two pensions. Linda came out from behind the Post Office counter and took her money and she wandered distractedly out of the store.
Harriet was very busy that day and dismissed the incident from her mind. The next day Jimbo was serving when Gwen slid into the shop and wandered around. She
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made completely different purchases from those she'd made the previous day. When Jimbo offered her her newspaper she shook her head. She paid for a portion of cheesecake, a tin of corned beef and a packet of tea and went out.
On the Monday Flick was in there after school sorting out the birthday cards. Jimbo paid her one pound a week for keeping the card display tidy. She loved doing it. The boys plagued her about the extra pound but she knew they only did so because they were jealous.
Her job that Monday was to put out loads of new cards with ages on them. They'd got really low. As she bent down to slot in the 50, 60, 70, and 80 birthday cards she smelt that peculiar smell which surrounded Gwen and Beryl. To Flick it smelt like a mixture of the boys' old football socks when they'd forgotten to ask Mummy to wash them, that awful French cheese Daddy said was like nectar and of unwashed clothes. Plus for Beryl the smell of garlic. Flick crouched down by the card displays and stayed as still as a mouse. Her breathing became rapid and that same terrible fear she had experienced in their cupboard came back and washed all over her and nearly made her wet herself. She couldn't get out without being seen so she stayed curled up, hiding her face, praying for her to go.