Talk of the Village

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Talk of the Village Page 16

by Rebecca Shaw


  After she'd paid and left the shop Harriet spoke to Jimbo, 'Do you know Jimbo, Gwen is going peculiar.'

  'Going peculiar? Don't you mean even more peculiar?'

  'Well, yes. She has always bought exactly the same things each day of the week. But she hasn't had a tin of that dreadful Spam we keep in for her for nearly a week. Two days last week she never came in at all and now when she does she buys unusual things. I think she's finally lost her marbles.' Harriet felt Flick clutch hold of her skirt. 'Flick, you're pulling my skirt off! Oh, darling, I'm so sorry. I didn't think. Here, hold my hand tightly

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  and we'll get out of here and go rustle up some food for the ravening hordes we call our menfolk.'

  Harriet settled Flick on a kitchen stool and gave her the job of cutting up the cherries for a pudding she was making.

  'Feeling better now, darling? I'm sorry I didn't realise you were there. You must have felt dreadful.'

  'That wasn't Gwen.'

  'When we go out on Satur........ What do you mean

  that wasn't Gwen? They're twins, you can't tell the difference.'

  'It wasn't, it was Beryl.'

  'Beryl never shops.'

  'She does now, that was Beryl.'

  'How do you know?'

  'She smells different from Gwen.'

  'That's not very polite, Flick.'

  'No, but she does.'

  'Is that how you tell the difference?'

  'Yes. Gwen is old football socks and Daddy's French cheese with unwashed clothes and Beryl is the same but with garlic as well.'

  'Well, of all things! What an awful way to tell which is which.'

  'I thought everybody knew them by their smell.'

  'We all know they smell but no one has said anything about the smells being different. Are you absolutely sure it was Beryl?'

  'Oh yes. Is that enough cherries?'

  'Yes, that's plenty. In fact you can eat a few if you like.'

  'I'm going to watch children's telly now.'

  The following day when Beryl, or was it Gwen? went to the till to pay for her purchases, Harriet deliberately didn't ask Linda to come to take her money. Harriet asked innocently, 'Is your sister keeping well?'

  Beryl looked at her, nodded and began to back out of

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  the Store.

  Harriet was determined to find out what was going on. 'And how are you today Miss Baxter. Keeping well?'

  The dark brown eyes stared nervously at her.

  'Yes.'

  'It will be winter before we know where we are, won't it?'

  'Yes.'

  Harriet watched her hesitate and almost begin to say something but she changed her mind and fled from the shop leaving half her purchases on the counter.

  'This is my moment Jimbo, I'm going after her with these things.'

  'You're doing no such thing. If she wants them she can jolly well come back for them.'

  'Someone's got to find out what's going on. Gwen could be lying seriously ill in there and Beryl too frightened to do anything about it. You and I pick up the phone as easy as we comb our hair, but to Beryl it's a major undertaking.'

  'Have you heard what I've said Harriet? You are not going to their house!'

  'You are getting far too dictatorial James Charter-Plackett, do you know that? Do this, Harriet, don't do that, Harriet, I shan't allow et cetera, et cetera. Well it won't do. I'm going.'

  'Then I shall come with you. Linda can you manage for five minutes while I escort my bossy wife across the green?'

  'Yes, of course I can. If you're not back in ten minutes I shall send for Inspector Proctor.'

  'You do just that. Come on, Harriet, put it in one of our carriers and we'll be off, though what you expect to find I don't know.'

  They set off at Jimbo's usual brisk pace. He dreaded going to their cottage, but wouldn't admit it for the

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  world. His memories of that awful day when Flick was missing rose in his throat as they neared the house, and almost choked him. He found he could hardly breathe.

  As they passed the front of the cottage they saw Gwen sitting bolt upright on a chair by the one window which hadn't had to be boarded up, her head resting against the high back of her chair. They waved and signalled to her to come to the door but she ignored them.

  They knocked and knocked but got no reply.

  'We'll put the carrier by the back door and then go,' Jimbo decided.

  They went back to the Store and faced the morning rush, but at the back of Harriet's mind she kept seeing Gwen sitting so still by the window. It was all very odd.

  'Half a pound of braising steak and two pork chops? Right you are Mrs Goddard. How's life in Little Derehams nowadays? Still as lively as ever?'

  'We leave all the lively happenings to you in Turnham Malpas, Mr Charter-Plackett. That's why we all shop here, so we can learn the latest gossip. Apart from the fact your food's the nicest of any hereabouts, of course!'

  'Thank you for that kind compliment.' Jimbo raised his boater in acknowledgement.

  Mrs Goddard went out of the shop and returned immediately. 'Quick! Ring for the fire brigade, there's a cottage on fire. Look! Over there! The other side of the green!'

  'It's the Baxters' cottage. Oh Look! Clouds of smoke there is.'

  The customers rushed outside to see. Smoke was curling steadily up from the thatched roof and beginning to collect in a huge pall above the thatch. Harriet dashed inside to the phone and Jimbo rushed out across the green. Ron and Sheila were coming out of their house as he passed. Jimbo banged on the door of the sisters' cottage. Surely to God that wasn't Gwen still sitting in

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  her chair? He peered in through the one remaining window. Oh God she was. Then he realised with horror that Gwen looked as if she might be dead. There was no smoke in that room yet, so she must have been dead before the fire. Where the hell was Beryl? Willie, Jimmy, and Peter along with Bryn from The Royal Oak had all arrived.

  'We'll have to break in round the back and get them out,' Peter said urgently.

  'It's too late for Gwen. She's already dead. Look.'

  'Oh dear Lord, whatever next.' Peter took charge. 'Willie go and get my hose pipe from the rectory and get Caroline to fasten it to our kitchen tap. Bryn see if Sir Ralph is in and get him to fix his up too. We'll have to move quickly, at best the fire brigade won't be here for twenty minutes.' In no time at all they had two hoses struggling to keep the fire under control. 'Play it on the thatch there Bryn. That's right. Jimbo and I will go in round the back. Willie and Jimmy you come with us. That's right Ralph, pour it in through the windows. Plenty of water onto those flames.'

  They pushed open the back gate and threw their combined weight into opening the door. It burst open and clouds of smoke billowed out.

  'You're not going in there sir,' Willie shouted. 'The smoke'11 get you before you've gone two strides. Don't let him Jimbo.'

  'Do as we say Peter, you don't go in there.'

  'We must save them.'

  'Gwen's already dead . . .'

  'Already dead?' Willie couldn't believe what he'd heard.

  'We'll pull down the boarding from one of the front windows and get in that way,' Peter shouted. They rushed round to the front of the house, getting drenched by the water from the hoses. By now a crowd had

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  gathered and Bryn had organised a chain of buckets which they were filling from Jimmy and Vera's kitchen taps.

  'She's sat in the window, get her out. Overcome by smoke that's what.'

  'It's Beryl we're looking for. Has anyone seen her today?' They all began shouting 'Beryl. Beryl.'

  Peter pulled a piece of boarding from the window. As it came away the outside air rushing in caused flames to belch out. Gwen could no longer be seen from the window.

  'I'm going in.'

  Willie grabbed Peter. 'Oh no, you're not, sir. Here stop him somebody.' Jimbo held Peter's other arm and refused to l
et go.

  'You're not going in there Peter. Thank God here's the fire brigade. They'll go in with breathing apparatus.'

  The firemen sized up the situation and began releasing the hoses and getting out their breathing apparatus.

  'How many are we looking for?'

  'Well, one sister is already dead sitting in a chair in the front room here and there should be one other sister.' Peter wiped the sweat from his forehead and took over the hose pipe from Ralph.

  Two firemen named Barry and Mike were soon kitted out. They entered the blazing cottage. Those onlookers not fully occupied with the chain of buckets waited with bated breath to see who they brought out. Within moments Barry emerged carrying the body of Gwen. He laid her on the green. Peter took off his cassock and covered her with it. 'We can't find anyone else in there, are you sure they were both in?'

  'Well, they hardly ever go out.'

  'There's mountains of paper smouldering in there. It makes searching very difficult. One more try Mike, eh?'

  'Right.' Barry and Mike disappeared again. The other

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  firemen were playing their hoses into the upper windows, from which they had dragged Gwen's boards.

  'There's only the old lady we've already brought out,' Mike announced when he emerged through the smoke.

  The Sergeant arrived on his bike, having been contacted on his radio at a farm he was visiting.

  'This is a right do this is,' he grunted. 'Have you got both of'em out?'

  'We can only find one old lady and she's dead.'

  'Which one is it?'

  'She's under the Rector's cassock on the grass there.'

  The flames had died down now but the piles of newspapers were still smouldering and clouds of smoke were pushing up into the sky. The entire village was out on the green watching. It must surely have been the most interesting day they'd had for years.

  'I shall have to send for the Inspector. Can 1 borrow your phone, Rector?'

  'Certainly.' The Sergeant bustled off across the road.

  Georgie came across from The Royal Oak carrying a tray filled with mugs of tea. Behind her trotted Muriel, also holding a tray filled with mugs.

  'You firemen get first call on the tea, and then the bucket brigade, and after that anyone else who helped,' Georgie shouted.

  'Peter?'

  'Caroline! What are you doing?'

  'Helping. She's been dead for a few days, I'd say.'

  'I suspected as much. Beryl's left her sitting in the chair. Why on earth didn't she get help.'

  'Too frightened, I expect. I'm glad Jimbo stopped any heroics on your part.'

  'You heard.'

  'I did. The smoke would have killed you.'

  'Wish we could find the other one.'

  'She's not inside, by all accounts. Do the fire brigade

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  know how it started?'

  'Not yet.'

  Caroline stayed till the ambulance came to take Gwen away. They all assumed it was Gwen because it was always she who watched the comings and goings of the village from the windows. Caroline spared a thought for how Beryl must be feeling. It all looked decidedly disturbing.

  The fire brigade stayed for nearly four hours before they were satisfied there was no chance of the fire restarting. But there was still no sign of Beryl. Muriel, mindful of her obligations to Pericles, had abandoned her ministrations behind The Royal Oak teapot and gone home to take him out.

  They went on his favourite walk, down Jacks Lane, across Shepherds Hill and onto the spare land behind the chapel and then down by Turnham Beck. The rabbiting opportunities were legion around here. He raced from one hole to another his tail wagging furiously whenever he got the drift of rabbit. Then he began yelping in earnest. Muriel smiled, 'One day you'll catch one Pericles and then you won't know what to do with it.'

  As Muriel stood watching Pericles searching for more rabbits, she felt a tug at her sleeve. She jumped with the surprise of it, unaware thanks to the hullabaloo Pericles was making, that someone else was down by the beck.

  Standing behind her, bowed and distraught, was Beryl. Never looking particularly clean, Beryl looked even worse than usual. She had been crying and there were streaks of dirt and tears all down her face. Her hands were dirty as though she had been digging in the earth with them.

  'Why Beryl, we've all been so worried about you,' Muriel said kindly. 'Where have you been my dear?'

  Beryl rolled her eyes and then hid her face in her hands

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  and stood trembling and mute. Then she pulled her oversized cardigan over her head as though she thought, childlike, that if she couldn't see the world the world couldn't see her.

  'Beryl can you tell me what happened at the cottage? Were you there when the fire started?'

  At this Beryl sat down and tried to hide the whole of her body inside her cardigan. Her desperate writhings put Muriel in mind of a sick animal burrowing to find a place to die.

  'My dear, let's go and find Peter from the Rectory. You know Peter don't you, he's tried to help you before. Get up and we'll go there together. He'll be sure to help us. Come along.'

  It was all so beautiful there in the field, with the sound of the beck trickling its way along as it had done for centuries. The willows were bending their graceful twigs down to the water's edge, the grass almost emerald green with all the rain they'd had and the sun getting low in the sky. The contrast of that peaceful scene with Beryl's agony was almost more than Muriel could bear.

  'Please, Beryl, get up. Let's go and find Peter. He's so kind, you can tell him everything that's happened. We'll ask Caroline to make us a cup of tea and we'll get warm by her stove. It's so comfortable in the Rectory kitchen.' Muriel called Pericles and clipped on his lead.

  She bent over, put her hand under Beryl's elbow and heaved her up. The two of them began a slow walk towards the Rectory. Beryl's head stayed hidden in her cardigan. Muriel didn't even know if Peter was in but Caroline seemed the best person to find. Harriet and Jimbo could hardly be asked to help. No, Caroline was best with her being a doctor. Yes, that was it. Caroline and Peter.

  'We'll have a nice hot cup of tea and then we'll talk,' Muriel promised. 'Come along, keep going.'

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  More police had arrived at the scene of the fire and were in deep consultation with several of the firemen. They all looked at Muriel as she guided Beryl across to the Rectory. Muriel signalled to them to leave Beryl alone, and pointed to the Rectory saying, 'We'll see you in there.'

  Inspector Proctor and Sergeant Cooper followed them across the green. Cooper knocked at the Rectory door, while Muriel tied Pericles to the old boot-scraper still standing sentry duty on the Rectory step. Caroline answered the door, holding little Alex in her arms.

  'Ah, hello,' she said, surprised to find this curious collection of people on her doorstep.

  Inspector Proctor was the first to speak. 'Can we bring Miss Baxter in Dr Harris? As you can see she's very distressed and we can't take her to her own home.'

  Muriel said, 'I've told her Peter will listen and understand.'

  'Of course, of course. I think we'd better go into the kitchen. There's too many of us for Peter's little study. I'll put the kettle on and we'll all have a cup of tea.' Caroline led the way, and: settled Alex on Sergeant Cooper's knee, while she put the kettle on and went to find Peter.

  Muriel sat Beryl down in Caroline's rocking chair by the stove. Beryl "was still holding her cardigan over her head.

  Inspector Proctor asked Muriel where she'd found Miss Baxter.

  'Down by the beck, Inspector. She won't speak. She's like an animal who has lost all reason.'

  'I'm afraid we've made a rather unpleasant discovery at their cottage.' Peter came in and the Inspector stood. 'Ah good afternoon sir, sorry for intruding, but we didn't seem to have any where we could take Miss Baxter.'

  'That's quite all right, Inspector. Where else but the

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&
nbsp; Rectory for such a problem as this?'

  Peter went to Beryl and rested his hand on her head and patted it.

  'God bless you Beryl, you're quite safe here, my dear. My wife Caroline is making a cup of tea for you. I'm sure you must be ready for it. It's been a very tiring day for you, hasn't it?'

  Peter pulled up a chair, Caroline gave him a mug of tea for Beryl and he handed it to her under the canopy of her cardigan.

  'Do you take sugar?'

  From inside her cardigan she whispered, 'Gwen says no.'

  'Well, she isn't here at the moment so we'll put some in. It will do you good. I like to have a biscuit with my tea, do you?'

  'Can't.'

  'Why not?'

  'They make you fat, Gwen says.'

  'I'm sure she won't mind you having one out of my special tin just this once. Here you are, it's got chocolate on one side.' Beryl grabbed the biscuit and hurriedly crammed it into her mouth. Then she took a second one and ate that more slowly. The Inspector began to fidget. He looked at his watch and coughed pointedly.

  Without taking his attention from Beryl Peter said, 'I can't hurry this, at least she's started talking. There we are Beryl, I'm sure that feels better.' He took the empty mug from her hand and then held her dirty hands in his and asked, 'Now what were we saying, oh yes, I know, about when you started the fire.'

  'I didn't.'

  'I know you didn't do it on purpose.'

  'Wanted candles for Gwen. Couldn't put her in church. He'd never done us a good turn in all our lives, so why should we bother with Him she said. She didn't

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  believe.'

  'I know she didn't.'

  'I wanted to light candles for her . . . hands shaking, she shouldn't have gone. She should have waited for me. Where is she? Dropped the candles you see and the rug caught fire and then the newspapers. She would keep the newspapers.'

 

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