They drove west out of Stratford with no destination in mind. They meandered through villages and along country lanes, without thinking about it they were heading for Wimplebridge. It took about twenty five minutes to reach the village. That was enough time for Archie to have a nap, but not long enough for him to go into a proper deep sleep. Josie had always known she’d come back for another look around this place. She knew that using her family for cover as she did a bit of covert snooping was wrong, and she felt a little guilty about it. As long as she was careful, Peter would never know he was being used as a decoy. And anyway, it was her day off so she could go wherever she wanted.
They parked by the green, making sure they were at the opposite end from Bindweed Cottage. As soon as Rose was out of the car she ran across to the small play park. After thirty minutes of pushing Archie on a swing, lifting him up the slide, and spinning Rose on the roundabout, Josie said they’d played enough, and she herded them across the green to the Belcher’s Arms.
Peter went to get the drinks and Josie took the children into the beer garden. Sitting in the evening sun she was helping Archie with some colouring when a movement on the road caught Josie’s eye, she looked up in time to see Claudilia pedalling past the pub in the direction of her house. Ever since that unfortunate incident with the builder she’d kept running into the Belcher woman. There was something about her, but Josie couldn’t say what, that made the Detective feel uneasy. She was convinced Claudilia was guilty of something, but she just couldn’t work out what it was.
Claudilia disappeared from view and Josie went back to discouraging her son from eating crayons.
Claudilia didn’t see Josie and her husband in the garden of the Belcher Arms: why would she? She wasn’t looking for the police officer after all, and her mind was back in the sauna at Macintosh Manor.
The afternoon had started well. She been riding with Helen, and hoodwinked …good word, her niece into telling Marie about her girlfriend. Claudilia felt bad about how she’d done it but the sooner the girl’s mum knew the sooner she’d come to terms with it all. After their ride, Claudilia and Helen went to Bindweed Cottage and cooked cupcakes for a couple of hours. After the third batch had gone in the oven, and the cool ones were in the freezer, Claudilia shooed Helen out the door and back up the road to her parents.
Claudilia cleaned the kitchen and made a pot of tea. She took it outside and sat on the patio with Max and Mr Crumble. Every few minutes she looked over the fields towards the farm house and wondered if Helen was talking to her Marie and Hubert. Eventually she could stand it no more. She had to do something, and she’d been putting off seeing Maggie Macintosh …Mrs Muck, how many times do I have to tell you, for too long. There was the question of her fete stand as well as these exercise classes to discuss. She put Max back into the house, where he climbed straight onto the most comfortable chair in the lounge, then she pulled out her bike.
When Claudilia arrived at the Manor she leaned her bike against the wall and rang the bell. The theme tune from the Archers sounded somewhere deep inside the house. She probably had it recorded especially for her door bell, thought Claudilia as she waited. There was no answer so she walked along the path, around the house and into the back garden.
Claudilia had been told about the gym by Angus, but still she was surprised by its size. This was no pokey little room or a converted shed. The beautiful old stone building had lost one entire wall, replaced by a set of bi-fold glass doors which were open and pushed right back. As she approached she could see the opposite wall was lined with floor to ceiling mirrors, it gave the impression of a large garden on both sides of the building. Inside the room there were machines of torture, or that’s how they looked to Claudilia. She recognised a rowing machine, a stationary bike, and a contraption with a conveyor belt in place of a floor. The rest were a complete mystery to her.
Inside the carpeted exercise area Claudilia could hear music, it was playing somewhere on her left hand side. She followed the sound through a door into a narrow changing room. At the end of the room there was another door, this one was pine and had the word “Sauna” screwed to it. Below that Claudilia recognised Angus’s block capital writing on a post-it note; “I think the thermostat must be buggered as it’s getting far too hot, that heater’s a fire hazard too. Get it looked at will you please.”
Claudilia could hear noises, someone was in the sauna. She peered through the small square window near the top of the door and she could see Maggie. She was naked with her back to the entrance. Claudilia couldn’t help admiring her toned figure and the way the perspiration made it shine. But Mrs Macintosh wasn’t alone, and that wasn’t Angus she was sitting astride in there. He was five hundred miles away on a grouse moor.
It could be Giles the Gardener, thought Claudilia, although she didn’t have a clear view of his face. They must have been in there for some time too. An ice bucket stood on the floor and a bottle she presumed was empty lay on it’s side nearby. A couple of glasses were perched on the upper bench. …they’ll get warm up there, the drinks will be ruined.
Although they were too involved to check for an audience Claudilia thought it best not to stand and watch, she stepped backward and to one side a bit so she could not be seen. Angus hadn’t been gone for twenty-four hours yet, not that him being at home or away seemed to make any difference to his wife. He gave that woman everything she asked for and got nothing in return. Worse than that, she was making a fool of him; screwing the gardener behind his back and bragging about it to ‘Tish, forcing Angus to sleep in a different room and feeding him like a rabbit before sending him out on that bike: And then there was the Tai chi, what was that all about for God’s sake? The little tart needed a good seeing too. …To be fair I think that’s what she’s getting in the sauna!
Claudilia looked around and saw a small cupboard, which on closer inspection contained cleaning products. A mop with a long wooden handle stood in a bucket. Claudilia took it out and wedged the pole through the handle of the sauna’s door, then she took a quick peek through the window. Although the couple inside had changed positions they showed no signs of being close to finished. The door wasn’t going to budge when Maggie tried to open it.
Now let’s warm things up a bit thought Claudilia.
She ducked under the window and went to a small control panel. She located the heat dial and turned it up to maximum.
Back in the exercise room Claudilia sat on her haunches against a wall. She had no problem with slowly roasting Mrs Muck, …Well done, you’ve got it right at last, but her companion was a different matter. She couldn’t be sure who it was, but she’d heard the duplicitous stick insect talking about Giles the gardener. It was fair to assume that’s who the hairy legs and tight little buttocks belonged to. By the look of him, or at least the bits Claudilia could see, Maggie’s companion was a good decade younger than she was. If Giles was screwing Maggie it didn’t have anything to do with Claudilia. It just demonstrated his very poor taste.
No. It was too harsh to condemn a man for having bad taste. Claudilia turned down the heat and removed the mop from jamming the door. She replaced it in the cupboard, then tip-toed out of the gym. She went around to the front of the house and retrieved her cycle. As Claudilia rode down the drive and away from the Manor, Maggie and Giles emerged from the sauna. They were mutually satisfied and oblivious to anyone else having been there.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Day Twelve. Sunday
On Sunday morning Claudilia was up and breakfasted by eight. Church would start at half past ten and she wanted to feed Pumpkin and clean his stable before going to worship. That’s where she was when Marie came calling, and not finding Hubert’s sister at Bindweed Cottage she went to the only other place her sister in law would be.
Claudilia was coming out of the stable, carrying a fork full of manure …call it horse shit will you, that’s what it is after all, when she saw Marie. “If you’re going to have a go at me, I suggest you wait u
ntil I’ve put this lot on the heap,” said Claudilia.
“I’m not here to have a go,” said Marie, “I just want to know a bit more.”
“What do you want to know that you can’t ask Helen?”
“Well how about, why couldn’t she talk to me first?” said Marie. “I feel so foolish. I’ve known Emma since she was a little girl. When did she become gay?”
“Marie, you don’t become gay. It’s not something you catch like a cold or a verruca, she’s been gay all her life, it’s just how she is.”
“Do you think they’ll grow out of it?”
“I doubt it, do you think you’ll grow out of being straight?” asked Claudilia, “But then again, you’re married to Hubert. No one would blame you for running off with another woman, not after a few years with him.”
“Be serious will you” laughed Marie.
“No, I don’t think Helen’s going to grow out of it. And if they’re happy together then why should she? Helen told me she’s fooled around with a few boys, but only because she was expected to. She said it never felt right till she got together with Emma,” Claudilia said. “You should be happy she’s found someone she can be honest with. It’ doesn’t come to us all.”
“I was hoping for grandchildren, a wedding with a big white dress, that sort of thing.”
“Marie, for a twenty-first century woman you have some very nineteenth century ideas,” said Claudilia leaning on her muck fork. “If they want one then there can be a wedding, a great big white one with two bride’s dresses and two hen nights and all the other stuff you’ll want to arrange. There is no reason why they shouldn’t have kids. Okay it may be through adoption, or maybe they’ll find a willing young man and a turkey baster.” Marie cringed at the thought, then made a yucky noise in her throat, but Claudilia was on a roll. “There’s nothing for you to be worried about, they’re not going to be two old maids in sensible shoes with crewcut hair and dungarees.”
“So what should I do? I don’t think I slept a wink last night,” asked Marie.
“Do? You should do nothing. Treat them just the same as you always have. Emma was Helen’s best friend yesterday and she’s still her best friend today. It’s just they’re better friends than you’d thought they were. If you do have to do something, then my advice would be to get rid of that old single bed Helen’s been sleeping in since she was ten, give them a nice new double. They must be so cramped at the moment. They must have to sleep on top of each other. Come to think of it, if Emma was a boy, you could be Grandma Marie by now!”
“Okay No fuss,” smiled Marie. “but it’s going to take some getting used to.”
“So, how did she tell you?” Asked Claudilia.
“She came back from riding with you, sat down in the kitchen with me and her father and told us she needed to talk. I thought it was going to be something to do with her birthday, or school, or maybe about buying a car, she’s dropped enough hints after all. She’s got her test coming up you know? I never imagined it would be to tell us she’s gay and the friend who stays about four nights a week is her lover. And I still can’t believe I’m calling Emma that.”
“And where is she now?”
“They spent the night at Emma’s, they told her parents weeks ago. But she said she’d be back for church this morning, and I think she’s bringing Emma with her.”
“How did my brother take the news?”
“Remarkably well, he’s always liked Emma, and she’s already pretty much part of the family. She’s even been on holidays with us.” Marie smiled. “He said it was a bit weird, but I think he just wants his little girl to be happy. She may not be so little these days, but he still wants her to be happy.”
Marie and Claudilia leaned on the gate into Pumpkin’s field, they looked out towards the Belcher farmhouse. The sun was warm on their faces and it promised to be a fine day. Pumpkin and Merry came over to see if Claudilia had a slice of apple, or even a carrot in her pocket, which of course she did.
“It looks like you’ve got competition young lady,” said Marie to her daughter’s pony, stroking Merry’s nose and giving her a bit of the apple.
“The great thing about love,” said Claudilia, “is that we don’t have a limited amount to give. When we meet someone who we want to share some with we find a bit more tucked away in our hearts, it’s just sitting there waiting to be used.”
They said goodbye and Claudilia went back to her cottage her dog, and a shower. Marie walked across the fields to the farm house and her family, which in some way seemed different to how it was yesterday. Not better, not worse, just different, and bigger.
Claudilia had just enough time to shower and dry her hair. She slipped into some clothes that didn’t smell too much of horse, and scurried along to the church as the clock struck half past the hour. In her normal place; front row, left hand side, by the aisle. Hubert sat next to her and she could look along the pew at the rest of the family. She was pleased to see Marie next to Hubert and their younger children, Maggie and Alan, next to their mum. For once Alan had made it this far through the day without getting covered in mud. Claudilia wondered if Marie had made a special effort with her son today. Next to Alan sat Helen and Emma. Helen looked along the pew at her aunt and smiled, Claudilia winked back. Everything was going to be fine.
The service went without a hitch. No lightning bolts crashed through the roof to strike down the Belcher family and the sermon was almost interesting. Claudilia had been known to nod off if the address was dull or repetitive, but not today. Today she’d stayed awake from start to finish.
As usual after the blessing, Stuart invited them to stay for coffee. Claudilia stood up and turned to see who else had come to church on that sunny morning. She’d been a bit late herself, and not had time to take a mental roll call of the worshipers when she arrived; but she did hear someone come in after her. The clatter of heels on the old stone floor meant it could only be one person, Maggie Macintosh …Mrs Muck, Mrs Muck, Mrs Muck, how many times do I have to tell you damn it! Anyway, I’m surprised she can walk after her “exercise class” yesterday. Sitting in the back of the church and smiling like the cat that got the cream …more like the dog who’s had the bone! Maggie was wearing a short summer dress, and of course it was tailored to show off her figure. With red and yellow vertical stripes it was just about modest enough for church, but striking enough to ensure she was noticed.
“Hello Maggie you look nice,” said Claudilia. Because it’s more polite than “good morning tart, I’m surprised you can walk today!”
“Thank you Claudilia, it’s just an old thing I grabbed from the back of the wardrobe, I must get some new clothes for the summer. Vertical stripes are so last year,” replied Maggie.
“I wanted to have a word about the fete,” continued Claudilia. “We’ve almost finished laying out the location for each stall, and they’ll be marking it on the green tomorrow. Do you have some time this afternoon if I come to the house?”
Maggie scowled when she heard Macintosh Manor referred to as “the house”. She was very touchy about that and Claudilia knew it …why do you think I said it? “Yes of course. Come over after three, I should be finished in the gym by then.”
“That’s great, I did pop in yesterday but it was late and there was no answer at the door.”
“The Manor is very big. I don’t always hear the bell.”
“That must’ve been it, I guessed you’d gone out for a run or something. You work so hard to keep your figure.”
Maggie smiled. “I do work out a lot and I’m a bit of a gym bunny. Not everyone needs to take it as seriously as I do though.”
Claudilia leaned in and cut her off mid-sentence. Laughing she whispered “Then again, for all I know you might have been in the sauna when I got there, perhaps you were screwing that gorgeous young gardener’s brains out!”
Maggie’s smile cracked for a moment and the colour drained from her face. But she recovered well and laughed it off. “What a pr
eposterous suggestion Claudilia, he’s just a boy and not my type at all.”
Claudilia laughed too, then she excused herself and mingled with the other parishioners. After a few minutes she turned and surveyed the remaining faces in the church, there were plenty who’d not quite finished their coffee or biscuits. But Maggie Macintosh was not one of them, there was no sign of her anywhere.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
At three O’clock Claudilia turned her bicycle off the road at the entrance to Macintosh Energy, she took the right hand fork towards the house. It was déjà vu she thought, as she leaned her bike against the wall and pushed the bell. This time instead of being kept waiting, and having to wander around looking for someone, Maggie was there in an instant and ushered her visitor into the house. Dressed in what Claudilia assumed was her exercise clothes, Maggie was much more suited to lycra than her husband ever would be.
The Village Fate Page 19