(9/13)The School at Thrush Green Page 10

  Winnie Bailey was as surprised to see Richard as the two schoolteachers had been.

  'Well, I was just passing,' said Richard when rebuked by his aunt, 'and it seemed a pity not to call in. They didn't mind a bit, you know. I don't know why you fuss so.'

  'Because you are so selfish,' said Winnie. 'They are busy people, and you obviously didn't think of them at all, but simply pleased yourself.'

  'In any case, I don't think it would suit us,' said Richard, ignoring his aunt's criticism of his behaviour. 'The rooms are rather poky, and there really isn't enough room to build on. On the other hand, I might bring Fenella down one day to have a look at it. She's awfully clever at seeing possibilities in a place.'

  'Then you think she might contemplate leaving the gallery?'

  'I don't know, Aunt Win. All I know is that we ought to get away together before things crack up again.'

  He sounded despondent and Winnie's soft heart was touched.

  'Well, you must sort things out between you,' she said more gently. 'Now Jenny and I are off to Lulling to do some shopping, so I shall say "Goodbye". Help yourself to coffee if you are staying for a while.'

  'No, no. I'm off too. I have to look up something at the Bodleian, and then I thought I'd get a haircut. There's a good chap in the Turl.'

  He waved his farewells, and the ladies collected their shopping baskets.

  On the way down the hill, Winnie told Jenny about Richard's reactions to the school house.

  'Good thing,' said Jenny. 'He'd never do at Thrush Green, and you'd be everlasting minding those children. Or I would!'

  'Well, there are only two of them,' pointed out Winnie reasonably.

  'So far,' replied Jenny. 'But I bet there'll be more. I always thought Richard looked the sort to have a big family. Profuse, like.'

  'Prolific, I think you mean,' said Winnie. 'And I must say, that I hope you are wrong.'

  The following Wednesday Thrush Green school broke up for the Easter holidays, much to the relief of the children and staff, and the dismay of some of the parents.

  'Can't do nothing with 'im in holiday time,' announced Miss Cooke when she came to collect Nigel on the last afternoon.

  'Give him plenty to do,' advised Miss Watson. 'He's an active child.'

  'You're telling me,' retorted his mother, 'but he's active the wrong way. Last Christmas the little devil painted my Mum's fireplace with pink enamel paint. Said he was making it nice for Father Christmas. It ponged something awful when we lit the fire.'

  Dorothy smiled vaguely and watched her lead the budding decorator away. They were the last to leave the premises, and she and Agnes returned to the school house wearily.

  'Only one more term,' sighed Dorothy, 'and frankly it's a great relief to contemplate retirement.'

  'I do agree,' said Agnes, easing off her shoes. 'Thank goodness we haven't too many things arranged for this holiday. It will do us good to have a real rest.'

  'I must concentrate on my driving lessons though,' said Dorothy. 'Ideally, I'd like to have a day in Barton, just to chivvy the estate agent, and generally have a look round. We could stay the night at our usual place.'

  'That would be lovely,' said Agnes. But she sounded half-hearted. Weariness was not all that depressed her. Somehow she had not yet found complete confidence in dear Dorothy's driving.

  Besides, who would feed the little cat?

  As Agnes was the first to admit, Dorothy had behaved with outstanding magnanimity over the affair of the cat. Apologies accepted on both sides, the business of feeding the animal went ahead, Agnes delighting in the cat's growing confidence and affection, and Dorothy gallantly refraining from expressing her disfavour of the whole affair.

  She had even turned a blind eye to the wooden box filled with straw which appeared in the garden shed, and was obviously used by the cat at night. Agnes had timidly expressed the hope that Dorothy did not object to the shed door being left ajar.

  'I can't see anyone stealing our ancient lawn mower and all our gardening tools are in a deplorable condition. No, it won't worry me to leave the shed open,' Dorothy had replied, much to Agnes's relief.

  By now, the cat allowed Agnes to stroke its tabby fur, but leapt away when she tried to lift it in her arms. To Agnes's pleasure, it purred when she put down its food, and occasionally rubbed round her legs.

  But it always beat a hasty retreat if Dorothy appeared. It seemed to know that its presence was not welcomed by that lady.

  When she thought about it, Dorothy was still perturbed at the idea of the animal being left high and dry when they departed in the summer. However, she told herself, Agnes had been warned, and there was still time for a good home to be found for it or, with any luck, it would depart of its own accord to a cat-lover as fond and foolish as Agnes herself.

  The Easter weekend was as bright and beautiful as it should be, and St Andrew's church was a bower of daffodils, narcissi and young leaves.

  Round the steps of the font the children had put vases of primroses from Lulling Woods, and two magnificent pots of arum lilies from the Youngs' greenhouse flanked the chancel steps.

  Mrs Bates from Rectory Cottages had surpassed herself with the cleaning of the church silver and brass, and even Albert Piggott had stirred himself enough to tidy up the porch and the gravel drive.

  Everyone agreed, as they gossiped after church, that Easter was one of the loveliest of church festivals, and that St Andrew's had never looked so magnificent.

  Young Cooke had mown the grass of the churchyard, and Thrush Green's inhabitants admired its striped neatness. All opposition to the moving of ancient tombstones had now vanished. It was difficult to remember the battle which had raged, some years earlier, about the levelling of the site and the shifting of the gravestones to the outer wall. Poor Charles Henstock had endured many sleepless nights worrying about the hostility of some of his parishioners to the scheme, but time seemed to have healed the wounds very successfully.

  As Dorothy and Agnes crossed the green to the school house Ben Curdle appeared trundling a wheelbarrow.

  'Ah, Ben!' called Dorothy, hastening towards him. 'Would it be convenient to have a lesson tomorrow evening? I really want to have an intensive course in the next week or so. Would you be free?'

  'Any time you like,' said Ben. 'I'll come round about six, shall I?'

  'Perfect!' replied Dorothy. 'I always enjoy my driving lessons.'

  But she was not to know, when she spoke so enthusiastically, just what was in store for her.

  ***

  Meanwhile, Charles Henstock did his best to assist his friend Anthony to find a suitable post for the young woman, daughter of Mrs Lilly, about whom they had spoken on the telephone.

  The manager of the new supermarket about to be opened in Lulling High Street was of no help.

  'Sorry, padre,' he said, 'but I've got all the girls I need. Tell you what, I'll write down the young lady's name, and if I get a vacancy she can come for an interview.'

  The typist's post at Venables and Venables was satisfactorily filled, and very few people needed, or could afford, domestic help in the house.

  'Of course,' said Dimity doubtfully, 'the Lovelocks want help, but they are such hard taskmasters one hesitates to send anyone there.'

  'I suppose we could make it clear,' said Charles, 'that she is quite a young woman, and has this small child to care for. You wouldn't care to put the matter to Ada? Suggest that she goes for a trial period, and that not too much is demanded of her?'

  'I should dislike the job intensely,' said Dimity with spirit.

  Charles sighed. 'Well, we'll go on with our enquiries, dear, but if nothing turns up, I'd better tackle the Lovelock girls myself.'

  His woebegone face turned Dimity's heart over, but she did not offer to face the task herself.

  Who knows? Something suitable might turn up very soon.

  Promptly, at six o'clock, Ben Curdle arrived with his Fiesta at the gate of the school house, and Dorothy hastened t
o climb in.

  It was a warm April evening. The daffodils were nodding in the gardens, and the lilac was already in bud. There was a stillness in the air, and a gentle radiance, which moved Dorothy to quote poetry.

  '"It is a beauteous evening, calm and free",' said Dorothy, fastening her seat belt.

  'Yes, it is that,' agreed Ben, looking a little startled. 'Beautiful, I mean.'

  'Which way?' asked Dorothy, abandoning poetry and getting down to business.

  'I thought we'd take her up the main road, and then come back by way of Nidden. Then, perhaps, go up the High Street for a bit of traffic practice.'

  'Right,' said his pupil, scanning both mirrors, and letting the clutch in gently.

  She turned down the chestnut avenue in front of Edward Young's splendid house, and then left along the main road.

  'I really love driving,' said Dorothy. 'Am I doing all right, Ben?'

  'You're doing fine,' said he sturdily. 'But keep the pace down a bit. Lots of kids on bikes now the evenings are light.'

  They drove in companionable silence for two or three miles, then turned left into Nidden, and the lane which would return them to Thrush Green and Lulling.

  This was a much quieter road, and involuntarily Dorothy's pace increased. They were bowling along between the hedges which bounded Percy Hodge's fields, when the worst happened.

  Out from the farmyard gate burst Percy's young collie dog, barking furiously. There was a sickening thump as the near front wheel hit it, and the barking changed to a bloodcurdling squealing.

  With commendable speed and control, Dorothy pulled into the side of the lane, and was out of the car in a flash.

  Just as she approached the pathetic black and white bundle, Percy appeared, rake in hand.

  'What you bin and done to my dog?' he yelled menacingly. 'Women drivers!'

  He spat in an unlovely fashion, as Ben came up to his pupil's support.

  10. The Accident

  WITH considerable authority Ben Curdle went into the attack.

  'Pity you can't keep your animals under control,' he said. 'There's a couple of cows of yours pushing at the hedge half a mile up the road. And now this!'

  He squatted down beside the dog and felt its legs and ribs with expert fingers. Dorothy, much shaken, watched him with admiration, and with thoughts of Ben's indomitable old grandmother, Mrs Curdle, who had met every disaster with the same supreme courage and calm that Ben was now showing.

  'We should get the vet,' she said to Percy. 'Can I use your phone?'

  She was much alarmed at the condition of the animal. Its eyes were closed, its breathing heavy, but there did not appear to be much blood, except for a cut on its side.

  'I'll look after my own dog, thank you,' replied Percy nastily. 'You stay here with Gyp and I'll ring young Bailey.'

  He departed, leaving Ben and Dorothy eyeing the dog.

  'Do you think we should lift him on to the verge?' asked Dorothy.

  'Best not move him. He may have something wrong inside. We'll stay with him till the vet comes.'

  'Will he die, Ben?'

  Ben looked up at his distraught pupil and gave his slow reassuring smile.

  'I'll take my oath, he don't,' he said. 'My guess is he's concussed, just knocked out. This 'ere graze and cut is nothing much. He'll be all right this time next week.'

  'I should have seen him.'

  'You had no chance. He run into you at the side. Don't you fret, miss. You've nothing to blame yourself for.'

  At that moment, Percy reappeared.

  'We're lucky. Surgery girl just caught the vet leaving Bill Bottomley's at Nidden. He's coming straight here.'

  Dorothy strove to behave calmly. 'I'm extremely sorry to have hurt your dog, Mr Hodge, but it was entirely its fault. Ben here saw exactly what happened.'

  'I don't care who saw what or whose fault it was,' declared Percy, now down on his knees beside the recumbent animal, 'but I paid good money for that dog and I'll need compensation and the vet's fees too.'

  Dorothy was about to say that she would be pleased to do so, when she caught Ben's eye, saw the almost imperceptible shake of his head, and remained silent.

  The dog now gave a little whimper and opened his eyes. At that moment David Bailey's Land Rover arrived on the scene, and the three stood up with relief.

  'My old friend Gyp in trouble, eh?' he said, squatting down beside him. The dog began to thump his tail.

  The vet ran expert fingers over the animal's body, while the others watched anxiously.

  'As far as I can see he's had a bit of concussion, and this cut could do with a couple of stitches and cleaning up. If you give me a hand, Percy, I'll take him back with me to the surgery for a proper check-up. No bones broken luckily.'

  'What a relief!' cried Dorothy.

  'No thanks to you,' exclaimed Percy, rounding on her. 'Proper careless driving caused this, Mr Bailey. I reckon it's a case for the police.'

  'If you take my advice,' said the vet who had heard all this before, 'you won't get involved with the law. The dog's not badly injured, and should have been under control in any event. Now, you lift his legs gently, Percy, and we'll get him into the van.'

  'I'm coming too,' said Percy.

  'So I should hope,' replied David Bailey shortly. 'Get in the front.'

  'I'll telephone in an hour or two,' promised Dorothy, 'to see how he's got on.'

  Percy gazed stonily ahead of him, making no reply, as the Land Rover drove slowly away.

  'Oh, Ben,' quavered Dorothy, 'what a terrible thing to happen! What shall I do?' There were tears on her cheeks, and Ben's kind heart was stirred.

  'You get in the car, and I'll drive us home. Remember you've nothing to blame yourself for, and don't give old Percy Hodge money for nothing. It only puts you in the wrong.'

  'Well, I do see that,' admitted Dorothy, busy with her handkerchief, 'but I truthfully would feel so much better if I could have the vet's bill.'

  'That's up to you,' said Ben. 'I'd probably do the same. But don't you have no truck with Percy's threats about the law. That dog had no right to be loose like that, and Perce knows it. I bet them cows is all over the road up Nidden by now,' he added with considerable satisfaction. 'Give him something to think about.'

  By now they had arrived at the school house, and Dorothy's tears had dried.

  'I can't thank you enough, Ben,' she said shakily. 'You were a tower of strength. I was reminded of your grandmother who was such a wonderful woman, I've been told, and a great help in trouble.'

  'It was nothing, miss. Don't go worrying about it, and don't forget I'm coming to take you out again tomorrow evening. You mustn't look upon this as a set-back. It could have happened to anyone. Why, I once ran into one of my gran's fair ponies!'

  'Really? What happened?'

  'Nothing to the pony. But it dented the front of my motor bike something horrible.'

  Charles and Dimity Henstock had no need to brace themselves to approach the Misses Lovelock, for Nelly Piggott had also heard about Doreen Lilly, from Gladys her mother, after a bingo session one evening.

  'I know some old ladies who want some help,' said Nelly hesitantly. 'But I'm not sure whether the job would suit her.'

  'She can but try,' responded Mrs Lilly. 'She knows she'll have to knuckle down to a bit of hard work to keep herself and the boy. But she's certainly not living with me! For one thing I've no room, and after two days we'd be fighting like Kilkenny cats.'

  'I'll do what I can,' promised Nelly, feeling some sympathy for the daughter and her problems.

  The Misses Lovelock were duly informed at their next Wednesday lunch at The Fuchsia Bush, and word was sent to Gladys Lilly that they would be pleased to interview Doreen as soon as possible.

  'Not that I am altogether happy about the idea of employing an unmarried mother,' observed Ada, when the sisters were back in their cluttered drawing-room.

  'Oh, really, Ada,' exclaimed Violet, 'what difference will it make to h
er housework?' She was struggling with that day's crossword puzzle, and finding an anagram of 'grenadine' particularly elusive.

  'It's not her housework that is in question, but her morals,' pointed out Bertha.

  'Well, we can't do much about that,' said Violet flatly. 'It sounds to me as though she has had a hard time. Nelly said the father has vanished completely, and left this poor girl in the lurch.'

  'It is very unwise,' pronounced Ada, 'to try and prejudge the girl, and to let our hearts rule our heads. All we can do is to sum up her abilities when she comes for interview, and to show her what will be required of her. I gather from Nelly that the girl has first to find lodgings, as Mrs Lilly has no room for the daughter and child.'

  'What about our top floor?' said Violet. 'There's our old nursery and the maid's bedroom.'

  'Out of the question,' said Ada, rolling up her knitting. 'This house is quite unsuitable for a young child.'

  Violet was about to say that all three of them had been born and reared in this same house, but Ada had on the look which brooked no arguing, and in any case Violet had just realized that 'endearing' fitted her clue, and so busied herself in filling it in.

  It was unfortunate that the very morning after Dorothy's accident, Agnes had found the little cat unusually affectionate towards her.

  It had allowed her to stroke its ears, and to pat its back very gently near the tail, and in return had patted Agnes's shoe-lace in a remarkably playful manner. Little Miss Fogerty was entranced, and prattled happily at the breakfast table upon such agreeable progress.

  Dorothy, still shaken by her ordeal, and awaiting further news from Percy Hodge with some trepidation, found Agnes's enthusiasm hard to bear. Kindly though she was in disposition, on this particular morning Dorothy found the animal kingdom decidedly irritating.

  'Don't make too much fuss of it,' she said crossly. 'It will be coming into the house next.'

  Agnes curbed her tongue. It was plain that poor Dorothy was still upset about Percy Hodge's dog, and who could wonder at that? A truly dreadful experience, and Percy could be a formidable opponent if it came to warfare.