Scandal in the Village (13 page)

While they were having lunch Willie had organised Jimmy to go up the tower and sweep the steps, check the light bulbs and generally give a tidy up in preparation for All Saints’ Day. Since time immemorial parishioners, and anyone else who cared to pay for the privilege, could climb the church tower and spend time up there enjoying the view. When they came down there was tea and fatty cake to be had in the church hall. No one could remember when they had first begun serving cups of tea and still less could anyone remember when they’d begun serving fatty cake. Strangers furrowed their brows at the mention of fatty cake and the older inhabitants of Turnham Malpas nodded their heads knowingly but refused to divulge their secret recipes.

There were only certain people, with ancestors mentioned in the very oldest parish records, who by tradition made the fatty cakes for All Saints’ Day. Lavender Gotobed who now lived in Little Derehams but whose family had resided in Turnham Malpas for centuries was one, Mrs Jones from the Store was another, Willie Biggs and Jimmy Glover, the Nightingales of Nightingale Farm, Thelma and Valda Senior and in charge of organising the cakes was the current Lady at the Big House. So as there were no longer any Templetons at the Big House it was Muriel who had to ring around and check that the fatty cakes would be made and delivered in time on the day.

Willie always had the door at the bottom of the tower unlocked at ten o’clock on the morning of November the first. This was the sixteenth time he’d done it and as he settled himself on a chair by the door, wearing every conceivable item of clothing he could think of as protection against the cold, he wondered just how many people would come.

He’d said to Sylvia only that morning, ‘These old customs is all right, but they’re bound to lose their excitement. There’s so many other things folk can do nowadays. Watch TV, go shopping in them shopping malls, driving here and there, going to the coast, computer games and these winter sun holidays they go on and that, stands to reason they’ll start losing interest in a simple thing like climbing a tower for a good view.’

‘You wait and see, it’s tradition and they like tradition round here. Leave these four fatty cakes in the church hall for me will you? Two from you and two from Jimmy. See, I’ve used the very best raisins and butter, they should taste good. Your mother’s recipe I reckon is the best.’

Willie perked up at that. ‘Always loved making ’em she did. Never made ’em any other time. Every year she kept one back and we had it with our tea, but she never let on and we didn’t either. Bad luck or some such I think she thought, but she couldn’t resist. I’ll be off then. When are you coming?’

‘About eleven, got your tin for the money?’

‘I have, I’ve always liked this picture of Queen Victoria on the lid. Her Golden Jubilee tin it was. Been used every year since then for this very job.’

‘You’ll be late.’

‘Give us a kiss.’

‘Righteo, there you are.’

So he was sitting there waiting for customers. The first up the path was the Rector and the twins.

‘Good morning, Rector.’

‘Hello, Willie.’

‘Mr Biggs, here’s my money. Can we go up now?’ Beth wearing her red wool hat which she’d had since the Christmas she was three and which she refused to be parted from, looked up at him with a lovely eager smile on her face.

‘I reckon this is your first time.’

‘It is. Mummy said we were too small before but now we’re at school she says we can go.’ Alex backed away and stared up at the top of the tower. ‘It’s a long way up.’

‘It is. Yer’ll need strong legs to get up there. Let’s ’ave a feel at yer muscles.’ Willie bent down and pretended to test Alex’s leg muscles.

‘And me, and me. I’m strong.’ Beth offered her legs for testing too.

‘Well, I reckon, Rector, with muscles like them they’ll both make it.’

‘So do I. They’ve been pestering to come since eight o’clock. Are we the first?’

‘You are, sir. Mind how yer go.’

Willie’s tin began filling up with the steady stream of twenty-pence pieces from the people eager to climb the tower. The weather was cold and there was an east wind which cut cruelly through the warmest coat. He couldn’t imagine what it must be like up at the top.

Dicky Tutt came up the path. He stood talking to Willie but his mind was obviously not on the conversation for he kept glancing down the church path as though expecting someone. Then he abandoned Willie altogether when Georgie came hurrying up. Willie watched as Dicky visibly restrained himself from greeting her with a kiss.

Dicky dropped his money in the tin. ‘Here you are then, forty pence.’

Georgie greeted Willie with ‘Good morning, cold job for you sitting there.’

‘It is, but it’s all in a good cause.’

‘What’s the money going to then this year?’

‘Save The Children.’

‘You should make it fifty pence not twenty.’

‘Well, it’s twenty, makes it too much when you’ve a family to take up. You’ll need something warmer than that on when you go up. I’m told the wind blows something terrible up there on days like this.’

Dicky pulled a wool hat out of his pocket. ‘Here you are, Georgie, wear this.’

They disappeared into the tower hand in hand. Willie couldn’t believe the boldness of it. They don’t care that’s it, they don’t care who sees ’em. It’s not right.

In the past when it got really busy Willie had had to form a queue outside on the path and wait for some people to come down before letting any more climb up. There were several passing places up the spiral staircase so it didn’t matter too much if people were going both up and down at the same time but the space at the top being so limited he had to make sure there weren’t too many up there at once. Didn’t want no one falling over the edge in the crush.

Flick, Finlay and Fergus came next and then to his horror, hard on their heels came Bryn Fields. Willie hadn’t been in the Royal Oak since that lunch time when Bryn had shoved Dicky’s roses off the bar counter. He really hadn’t expected Bryn to come and, oh God, Dicky was up there. He’d have to think of something quick.

‘Hello, Bryn, I’m afraid you’ll have to wait a while, there’s getting to be too many people up there.’

‘One more won’t make any difference, I’m going up.’

‘I’m sorry, but I’ve got to be quite firm about this. There’s already enough people up there, I’ve got to ask you to wait.’

‘I’m not.’ He fumbled in his trouser pocket and brought out a pound coin. ‘Here, there’s a pound and worth every penny.’

Bryn flung the coin in Willie’s tin and sped off towards the bottom of the steps.

Willie got up off his chair and entered the tower door. ‘Bryn, come back down.’ But Bryn had disappeared round the turn of the spiral staircase and Willie had to climb the first few steps to make himself heard. ‘Bryn, do as I say, come back down.’ All he could see was the heels of Bryn’s shoes disappearing rapidly round the next bend. There was no way Willie was going up there so whatever drama was about to unfold he wouldn’t witness it.

At the top Georgie stood with her back against the wall getting her breath back. ‘That’s a climb and not half. You must be fit, Dicky!’

‘I am! Come and look!’ He leaned as far as he could over the edge, only one of his well polished brogues was on terra firma.

‘Be careful! You’ll be over.’

‘I won’t, nine lives, I’ve got.’

Georgie went to stand beside him. ‘Just do me a favour and keep both your feet on the ground, you’re giving me the heebie jeebies.’

He tucked her hand in the crook of his arm and they both looked over the village. Dicky was pointing places out to her and they were in a world of their own.

‘Hello Mr Tutt! I’ve never been up here before. Isn’t it good?’

‘Hello there, Beth, where’s your dad, you’re not on your own are you?’

‘No, of course not, he’s round the other side with Alex, looking at the cars on the bypass with Daddy’s binoculars. Hello, Mrs Fields. Where’s Mr Fields?’

‘Working.’

‘I expect he’ll come later when he’s not busy. You can see a long way can’t you? I wish I was tall enough to look over the top, I can only see through the holes. I can put my leg right through them, look.’ She waved her foot out through a gap between the stone uprights. They’re just the right size for me.’

Dicky smiled down at her. ‘Well, you’ll grow soon enough. I’m not lifting you up to see, that’s a fact. I can only just see over the top myself.’

‘If you were tall like my Daddy you’d be able to see everything. He can see everything wherever he goes.’

‘I would, you’re right. Here he is, look. Bit breezy up here isn’t it?’

Peter agreed. ‘It certainly is. For the sake of my nerves, Beth, bring your leg back in. In! Thank you. How are you Georgie? Long time no see.’

The biting wind battered Georgie and she pulled Dicky’s wool hat closer about her ears. ‘Busy. You know how it is. Open all day.’ She turned her back to him, she really couldn’t withstand Peter’s all-seeing eyes today. Nor the disappointment she could recognise in them.

There was a hustle and a bustle at the top of the steps and bending low under the door lintel Bryn appeared, breathing heavily. He didn’t speak because he couldn’t, he’d climbed the stairs far too fast. His lack of speech only served to fuel his anger. Dicky hadn’t noticed he’d arrived and was still looking out over the village. Georgie nudged him. He turned to look at her and smiled, a loving, possessive kind of smile. An unmistakable smile to someone like Peter who knew all about loving and Peter’s heart sank. He glanced at Bryn and realised he’d seen the look too. Bryn, uncontrollable fury in every line of his face, lurched forward and grabbed Dicky by his collar.

Gasping he snarled, ‘I knew I’d find you up here. I just knew you two had planned to meet.’

‘Bryn! Let go of him! Let go!’ Georgie grabbed at Bryn’s arm and tried to pull him away but he brushed her off.

Before anyone could say or do anything Bryn was heaving Dicky up by his collar and the seat of his trousers and was trying to lift him over the edge. Dicky was writhing, wriggling, struggling to escape but Bryn held him in a madman’s grip.

‘I warned you I’d do for you and I shall. You’re not having her.’ As he spoke he pursued his intention of heaving him over, but Dicky was hanging on to the stone balustrade and was proving far harder to heave over than Bryn had thought possible. Georgie, screaming and crying was trying to keep hold of Dicky, and Bryn was shouting, ‘I’ll do for you. So help me I will. Leave go, you bastard.’ It all happened so quickly that it took Peter a moment to absorb what was really happening. He thrust the children behind him and stepped forward, stood behind Bryn and concentrated all his strength on gripping Bryn’s arms and pinning him to his chest. There was a fierce struggle during which Peter could hear the children screaming and Willie shouting from the ground. ‘What’s goin’ on up there?’ Several people joined him in the fight to prevent Bryn from finally tipping Dicky over the edge. Gradually Peter, with their help, began to win and Bryn started to release his hold on Dicky and all of a sudden Bryn’s maniacal strength left him and he let go completely.

Dicky ashen and breathing fast straightened his clothes. Georgie stood watching the collapse of Bryn. Bryn who’d always been a tower of strength, hard working, tenacious, ambitious and here he was leaning against the balustrade, looking a broken man. All because of her.

Peter, flushed and breathing hard realised that the children were terrified by seeing their father fighting and that he had to reassure them when he hardly felt capable of doing so because he was so shocked at the thought of Dicky being killed.

He gasped, ‘Hush, hush, Daddy’s all right. We’re all safe. Steady now, you’re not to worry.’ Peter breathed deeply for a few seconds and managed to pull himself together. All the people at the top had gathered on the side overlooking the village green aghast at the possibility of Dicky crashing to the ground. Dicky’s face was putty-coloured and he was sweating, Georgie and the twins were crying, and Bryn stood by the balustrade his elbows resting on it and his hands covering his face in an attempt to disguise the fact that he was weeping.

Peter in his sternest voice said, ‘Dear God man, you nearly killed him! What were you thinking of? Dicky, you and Georgie go down, get right out of the way. I’ll come down with Bryn when he’s composed himself.’

Mrs Jones offered to take the twins down with her. ‘I’ll go down the first and make sure they don’t fall. We’ll go for a piece of fatty cake shall we, perhaps your Daddy will join us when he’s ready?’

Peter nodded his gratitude. Beth called out urgently, ‘Don’t fight Daddy will you, Mummy won’t like you fighting. Please, don’t fight Mr Fields again.’

‘No, Beth, I shan’t. I promise.’

Mrs Jones grabbed her hand and drew her towards the door. ‘Don’t you worry, I’ll look after them. Come along, Alex. As for you, Dicky Tutt, you want your brains examining. This is all your fault!’ She disappeared through the low door with the twins, and Peter heard Alex saying ‘Isn’t my Daddy brave?’ They were followed by the people who’d witnessed the incident and who were quite glad to return to the ground. In any case it was a brilliant piece of news for the church hall. That ’d make them sit up and stare and not half. Why they’d almost witnessed a murder! And all for twenty pence. If it hadn’t been for the Rector they would have. Just drink if he hadn’t happened to be up there, would any of them have had the strength to stop Bryn? No, they wouldn’t. He’d been like a man possessed. A maniac no less.