Whispers in the Village (6 page)

Ralph didn’t answer her. He saw those candid green eyes of hers again and remembered how he’d felt when she’d held his hand and pleaded so directly to him to give her a chance.

Neither of them was completely honest with the other. He didn’t tell her how he felt about Anna and Muriel didn’t tell him what she’d overheard in the Store.

In the Store that morning Jimbo was finding space on his Village Voice noticeboard for an email from Peter and Caroline. When he’d found it on his computer first thing that morning he’d been delighted.

‘Harriet! Harriet! Guess what? There’s an email from Peter.’

‘Coming.’

Together they read his message, relieved to realize that things appeared to be going well in Africa.

‘Jimbo, let’s put it on display then everyone can read it. They’ll be thrilled.’

‘Good idea. We’ll do it immediately!’

So there it was in the middle of the board, and Jimbo had put a big notice on the door so that as people came in they were aware it was there for them to read. Quite a crowd from the morning bus queue was huddled around it.

To: Everyone at Turnham Malpas
From: New Hope Mission

We all send our greetings to everyone in Turnham Malpas. Finally, after a week’s briefing at headquarters and a two-day journey in a 4×4 vehicle, sleeping under the stars and followed by two small trucks with our belongings and equipment for the medical centre we are at last at our destination
.

The weather is hot but still tolerable and the building where we shall make our home does have fans to help keep us cool in the worst of the heat. It is one huge room, more like an aircraft hangar than a home, with the kitchen at one end, a big space for a sitting room in the middle and two bedrooms sectioned off by curtains and ditto a very primitive shower room at the bedroom end
.

We have two local women to help us, one with nursing experience but no qualifications, and one to help with the church side of things. The church itself is virtually completed now. Made from local materials, it is airy, without proper walls, just matting hanging from horizontal poles, and everyone squats on the floor for the sermon
.

Caroline’s clinic is more sturdy and has much better facilities than she had expected, though they are very basic by English standards. She has already held her first session, a clinic for expectant mothers, and has found their knowledge of pregnancy and childbirth more Middle Ages than twenty-first century
.

Alex and Beth begin at the International School next week. It is a forty-five-mile round trip so they will be weekly boarders
.

The village is large, with more inhabitants than Turnham Malpas. We have plans for it; however, money is short. But we have great hopes for our work here
.

God bless every one of you
.

Your brother in Christ
,

Peter Harris

P.S. It is lovely here and everyone is so friendly. We’re going out to a house in the village for our meal tonight. We wonder what we shall get to eat!

Love, Beth and Alex xxxxxxx

Someone shouted. ‘The bus is ’ere!’ and everyone crowding round the noticeboard stampeded for the door. ‘He won’t wait, he never does. Hurry up.’

The only customer left in the Store was Sheila Bissett. She went to read the email as the others left. She could feel the miles between her and them, and was saddened. Peter would understand how she was feeling this morning, and she wished, how she wished she could knock on the rectory door and find him in his study, that lovely welcoming room with its gold-coloured walls, the delicate watercolours and the rough-hewn wooden cross over the old fireplace. She’d be able to sit in one of his big squashy chairs, Sylvia would bring them coffee and they’d talk openly about her worries and he’d straighten things out for her. Such a haven it was. She’d tell him how she felt about this new baby of Louise and Gilbert’s. She’d scarcely slept all night, nor the previous one. What she really wanted was for them to get rid of it. Five! And then number six! Surely God wouldn’t want her to go through it all over again.

In that little cottage, too. It was a dear place, and lovely for two or three but not eight! What really angered her was there was no need nowadays to have all these children. There were ways and means. She’d never needed to use anything at all, because – she hoped no one could read her thoughts – she’d never needed to use anything to stop conception. How Louise had come to be so fertile, she really couldn’t think.

Sheila blushed at the thought. How on earth could she discuss things like abortion or contraception with a daughter she’d lost real contact with years ago? She couldn’t bring herself to. Honestly couldn’t bring herself to. She could have talked to Peter about it but not Louise. But someone needed to say something. Though since Louise had met Gilbert she had been much easier to talk to. Maybe … she might manage to say something. After all, they had both of them given birth, even if they had little else in common.

Then she thought of how Gilbert would be dead against getting rid of the baby. He’d be appalled. She really wouldn’t be able to talk to him about babies because … he intimidated her. He was so very clever, with his doctorate in archaeology and his musical talents. It was just the matter of his brainpower which frightened her, mainly because she knew she didn’t possess anywhere near his kind of intelligence. She’d left school at sixteen and had hardly opened a book since. Though Gilbert never, ever, set out to make her feel as thick as a plank. Never. But she, right inside herself, knew she was.

She thought then about Peter’s new church being poor. Surely something could be done. In comparison Turnham Malpas was rolling in money. Of course. Yes! The W.I. They could organize things. And as she was president this year, why not? Why ever not? She’d go round and see Anna this afternoon and suggest the W.I. spearheaded a fundraising effort for the New Hope Mission.

Anna opened the door in response to Sheila’s knock and invited her in. The moment she walked in, she knew that, for her at least, that glorious feeling of being able to unburden herself had vanished. Peter and Caroline still lingered but the real essence of the two of them was gone.

‘Hello, Sheila. How nice of you to call.’

‘I’ve had an inspiration,’ said Sheila.

‘Then you’d better come in and find a chair.’

Anna led the way into the sitting room and Sheila felt choked when she remembered the coffee and gateaux evenings they’d had in there to raise funds for this and that. So she wasn’t to be allowed in Anna’s study. Well, perhaps it was for the best, because she couldn’t talk to a young unmarried woman about what was troubling her heart.

Anna spoke first. ‘Might as well cut to the chase.’

‘Pardon?’

‘I mean, what is it you need to talk to me about?’

‘Right. First thing. I’m president of the W.I. this year and I wondered if you would like to speak to us about something or anything at all, one afternoon. Seeing as you’re new. We’ve a fairly broad range of subjects so you needn’t be afraid to choose something which interests you. The only date …’ She rushed on, trying to shut out Louise and her troubles. Anything rather than that.

They both got out their diaries.

‘I’m not very well up on W.I.s. They always seem to me to be entrenched in the past. Peg dolls and lace doyley competitions and such.’

Sheila was appalled. ‘In the past! Most certainly not. We tackle all kinds of subjects and activities. Anything except politics, they are taboo. And our embroidery ventures are under the strict supervision of Evie Nicholls, who is very gifted. The millennium tapestry in the church was executed by us. In the past! Certainly not. We’re right out there in the front leading the troops, we are. Believe me. We meet the first Monday afternoon in the month, at two o’clock. Our speaker for November has had to go into hospital and doesn’t know when she’ll be fit enough to speak so would that be suitable? November?’

Secretly amused by Sheila’s stout defence, Anna agreed that her diary hadn’t yet filled up and November would be fine. ‘Anything else?’

‘Have you read Peter’s email thingy in the Store? No, of course you haven’t, it only went up this morning. Well, his church in Africa is very poor and I wondered if the W.I. and the church could join together and do something for them. I’m not sure what. How do you feel about that?’

‘I haven’t read it yet but in Penny Fawcett this morning someone had been in the Store and seen the email, and they were all agog about it, so yes, I know they’re short of money. I’d like to do something about that and yes, I think the church should make a contribution. Couldn’t think of anything more worthwhile and let’s face it, at least we would know the money will be going directly to those who need it and not towards vast rents and salaries for state-of-the-art headquarters. I think it’s a good idea.’

‘Thanks. At our next committee meeting we’ll have a discussion and see what we come up with.’ Sheila got to her feet, thankful not to have fallen to the temptation of unburdening herself.

Anna smiled at her. ‘Perhaps next time when you come to see me you might feel able to tell me what’s troubling you. I’m not a dragon, you know.’

Sheila visibly jumped.

‘I might even be able to help.’

‘Yes, maybe. But not today.’

Sheila all but rushed out of the rectory. What a narrow escape she’d had! Ron, she’d go home to Ron and tell him.

Ron was deeply involved with his stamp collection when she got in, and not really in the mood for Sheila firing broadsides at him. But he gently pushed his albums aside and made room for her elbows on the table.

‘Well, what is it?’

‘It’s like this …’ She hesitated.

‘It’s Louise and Gilbert, isn’t it?’

Sheila nodded.

‘People can think what they like because it’s nothing to do with them. They’re all beautiful children, well behaved, you can take them anywhere at all and they come up trumps. If they were hooligans it would be a different matter.’

‘I know. But six. It’s disgusting.’

Ron baulked at that. ‘No, it isn’t. They’re married, the children are happy. There’s nothing disgusting in it.’

‘Well, embarrassing, then.’

‘Not even that. Gilbert’s a great chap and I like him very much. There’s no pretence with Gilbert, he’s as frank and open as anyone could be. I like that in a man.’

Sheila, experiencing one of her rare perceptive moments, heard the envy in his voice and blurted out, ‘Why, Ron, you’re jealous of him. You wish you could have fathered children like he does.’

Ron didn’t agree outright but he did say, ‘Man to man, they’ll all admire him for it.’

‘I’m sorry I let you down. Though I wouldn’t have wanted as many as she’s going to have. I wouldn’t have coped.’

‘It’s amazing what you can cope with when you need to. You’d have been just as well organized as Louise.’

‘Not ever, believe me. I’d have sunk without trace under all that washing she has.’

Ron patted her forearm. ‘You underestimate yourself. Go lay on the sofa and I’ll make you a cup of tea and you can watch
Countdown
. Challenge the old grey cells for a while.’

Sheila did as she was told, tucked her feet under a cushion to keep them warm, switched on the remote and prepared to relax. After
Countdown
she’d tell him that Anna had agreed to help raise money for Africa. But by the time Ron came back with the tea tray, she’d fallen asleep, dreaming of a positive hoard of children and losing one in the park and searching hysterically for it. She woke with a jerk but with the child still missing. The commercials were on and her tea was cold. After the dream she was even more bruised and concerned and in more of a puzzle than ever. Why dream of a missing child?

The W.I. committee meeting was that same week and Sheila thrust them all into a frenzied discussion about raising money for Africa.

‘Ideas, ideas, let’s have a brainstorming session, come on, come on.’

She was met with complete silence. So it was up to her to start them off.

‘A cakebake? A gigantic raffle. A sponsored swim. An autumn fair. A fifty-pence mile in Culworth. Fancy dress party.’

‘We’ve done all those things before,’ someone stated despairingly.

Suddenly Sheila burst out with, ‘How about a sponsored … midnight …
naked
swim in Jimbo’s pool?’ Then wondered where on earth that had come from.

There were gasps all round. Only Muriel protested outright. ‘I don’t think so. Whatever would people say?’

‘A naked calendar then. Like that other W.I. did.’ suggested Angie Turner.

‘I don’t think so either,’ said Muriel. ‘My word no. Whatever next. Surely a sponsored sew would be more in keeping?’

‘Boring. Boring. I go for the naked swim.’ When she’d said this, Sheila went bright red. What had possessed her to pursue such an incredibly bold idea?

‘How about a sponsored hair-dyeing competition, too?’

‘That sounds rather more acceptable.’ This from Greta Jones, newly elected to the committee. ‘I’ve always wanted red hair. I’d do that. And Vince could always dye the bit he’s got left just for a laugh.’