(6/13) Gossip from Thrush Green Page 15

  Albert Piggott, not many yards from Thrush Green School, felt as lazy and out-of-sorts as the children. To his disgust, the storm had blown leaves and twigs into the church porch, ripped one or two notices to shreds, and soaked the heavy mat which was bad enough to shift when it was dry, let alone sodden with rain.

  He set about his duties dourly, one eye on the door of The Two Pheasants.

  His indigestion was even worse than usual this morning.

  Perhaps fried food was not good for him, but what could a chap cook when his lawful wedded wife had took off with the oil man? He could not fiddle about with pastry and vegetables and mixing gravy and all the other nonsenses his Nelly had mucked about with.

  He plied his broom lethargically. Waste of time, all this cleaning. Come tomorrow it would be as bad again.

  There was a welcome rattle from the door of the public house. Jones was unlocking, and about time too! Maybe half a pint, and a slab of cold pork pie, would settle his stomach.

  Albert propped his broom against a Zenana Mission poster which had escaped the full fury of the storm, and set off with more vigour than had been apparent all the morning.

  'Well, Albert, what a night, eh?' the landlord greeted him. 'I feel a bit washed out this morning, and that's the truth.'

  He spoke for all Thrush Green.

  A few mornings later, Ella Bembridge was surprised to see Dotty Harmer approaching, carrying the milk can which she usually brought about tea time with Ella's regular order of goat's milk.

  Her old friend looked wispier and greyer than ever, she thought, as she ushered her into the sitting room. Flossie followed like Dotty's shadow.

  'You're early today,' she said, taking the milk can from Dotty's bony hand. 'My word, you're jolly cold. Dotty! Are you all right?'

  'Perfectly,' replied Dotty, looking about her vaguely. 'I've just milked Dulcie, so I thought I would come straight up with your milk while it was fresh.'

  'And very nice to see you,' replied Ella. 'But you usually give me the afternoon milk.'

  Dotty did not answer. Ella thought that she looked more than usually dishevelled and extremely tired.

  'Let me get you a drink,' she urged. 'Coffee? Tea? Orange squash?'

  'Could I have a small whisky? Father calls it a sundowner.'

  'Of course you can have a small whisky, but it's not exactly sundown, you know. It's hardly ten o'clock.'

  'Such light evenings,' agreed Dotty. 'I shall shut up the hens when I get back. Which reminds me, I can't stay very long. Father had one of his little tantrums this morning, and didn't want me to come out.'

  She sat nodding to herself, oblivious of Ella's shocked silence.

  What on earth had hit poor Dotty? Her dreadful old father had been dead for twenty years! 'One of his little tantrums', as Dotty euphemistically described it, would have struck fear into the stoutest heart when he lived, but he was now resting with other Thrush Green worthies under Albert Piggott's sketchy care.

  'Dotty,' began Ella, 'you are not well. It's only ten o'clock in the morning, and you know you haven't had a living parent for years! I'm giving you coffee. I'm not sure if whisky would be the right thing for you just now.'

  'I certainly don't want whisky,' responded Dotty. 'If Father smelt strong liquor on my breath he would be most upset.'

  She looked down at Flossie.

  'What's this dog doing here?' she enquired, 'You didn't tell me you were getting one.'

  By now, Ella was seriously alarmed. The poor soul's mind was wandering, and what on earth did you do with such a patient? John Lovell would be in his surgery now, but she could not leave her. She decided to get to the telephone in the hall where she would have a clear view of the front door if Dotty attempted to escape.

  'I'm going to put on the kettle, Dotty, so lean back and have a rest. I must ring the butcher too, so don't worry if I'm a minute or two.'

  'Pray take your time,' said Dotty graciously. 'It stays light until almost eleven o'clock, you know, so there's no hurry.'

  She leant back obediently in the armchair, and closed her eyes.

  Ella, much agitated, hurried to summon help.

  John Lovell came himself before starting on his rounds.

  He was greeted by Ella with almost incoherent gratitude, and by Dotty with considerable hauteur.

  When Ella had taken in the coffee she had found Dotty fast asleep, and snoring in an eminently genteel fashion. Ella, much relieved, hoped that she would stay in this state until the doctor called. She awoke as Ella went to the front door.

  'I'd like to examine her on a bed, Ella,' he said. 'All right?'

  Of course,' she replied. 'Dotty dear, you don't mind if Doctor Lovell has a look at you?'

  I mind very much,' cried Dotty, her papery old cheeks flushing pink, 'but as he has been called— not at my request, I hope he understands—I shall let him examine me, but I trust that you will be present.' She seemed to be more her old self since her nap.

  Ella and John Lovell exchanged glances.

  'Of course Ella can stay,' said the doctor. 'Let's go up.'

  He was wonderfully gentle with their old friend, Ella noticed. She could not help noticing too, with considerable alarm, how pathetically frail Dotty was. Her legs and arms were like sticks. Her rib bones could be clearly seen as well as the bones of her neck and shoulders.

  Ella turned to look out of the window as the examination went on. Dotty bore all in silence, but sighed with relief when he said that she could get dressed again.

  They left her to do so and descended the stairs.

  'What is it?' asked Ella.

  'You can have it in one word. Malnutrition. She's in a pretty bad way, Ella, and I'm getting her into the Cottage Hospital right away. Can I use your phone?'

  'Carry on. I'm shattered, but not surprised. She eats next to nothing, and works far too hard with that menagerie of hers.'

  She stopped suddenly, hand to mouth.

  'We'll have to get someone to look after them. I'll take on the cats and the poultry, and dear old Flossie can stay here - but that damn' goat is beyond me, I don't mind confessing.'

  'Don't worry. We'll get something sorted out. But she must get some attention immediately.'

  He went into the hall, and Ella slumped inelegantly on the sofa, feeling as if she had been sand-bagged.

  Flossie lumbered across the room and put her heavy head on Ella's knee. Ella fondled her long golden ears.

  'Flossie, my girl,' she told her, 'we're in a fine old pickle this morning.'

  Surprisingly enough, Dotty submitted to all the plans made for her with unaccustomed docility. John Lovell gave the two friends and Flossie a lift back to Lulling Woods and left them there to pack a bag for Dotty while he continued on his rounds.

  Ella had expected a spate of instructions about food for the animals, and her own domestic arrangements, but Dotty scarcely said a word. She gave Ella directions about where to find clean nightgowns, a sponge bag, soap and so on in a weak voice, but seemed content to let her do the work.

  It was as if she had had quite enough of present problems and was already drifting into oblivion. Ella had never seen anyone in such a state of exhaustion, and was very much alarmed. It was a great relief when a car from the hospital arrived and she could get into it with the patient.

  A cheerful nurse, whose face seemed vaguely familiar to Ella, took charge of Dotty, and said that Ella could see her at any time. This sounded ominous to Ella, who knew little about modern hospital methods. She had a confused idea that only those at the point of death were allowed visitors. Surely, one had to come between two and four, or six or seven, and then only with one other person at the bedside?

  She kissed Dotty goodbye, and wandered out into Lulling High Street. Where on earth had she seen that nurse before?

  It was odd to be at large in the town at almost twelve o'clock. She felt shaky, and the thought of the hill up to Thrush Green was a little daunting. She made her way to The Fuchsia Bush to get
a cup of coffee, and to rest.

  She had not been inside since the new arrangements had been made. It had been redecorated in a hideous shade of plum red which clashed appallingly with the old mauve curtains and made the interior unpleasantly gloomy.

  Two waitresses, who had been busy painting their nails, now broke off their conversation, and the taller one advanced reluctantly to Ella's table.

  'Just a cup of coffee, please.'

  'We don't do coffee after twelve.'

  'It isn't twelve yet,' Ella pointed out.

  'But it will be by the time I get the coffee,' replied the girl, huffing on her nails to dry the varnish.

  Honest wrath began to give Ella back her usual strength.

  'If I don't get coffee within three minutes,' she said flatly, 'I shall see the manager immediately.'

  'Oh well!' replied the girl, flouncing off, and casting her eyes to heaven as she passed her friend.

  The cheek, thought Ella, taking out her tobacco tin and beginning to roll a cigarette with shaking fingers! Bad enough closing this place at tea time and making it look like a third-rate brothel—whatever they looked like - without having chits of girls making a song and dance about fetching a cup of instant when requested.

  In the old days there had been some very pleasant waitresses here, thought Ella, blowing out a cloud of acrid smoke.

  Ah, that was it, of course! That nice nurse had worked here years ago. No wonder her face was familiar. Some relation of dear old Mrs Jenner's, if she remembered rightly.

  The coffee arrived, with only a small amount slopped in the saucer. It was hot and refreshing, and by the time Ella had drunk half of it, she was feeling more herself.

  She must buy some meat for Flossie on the way back, and go and collect her at Dotty's and see that the rest of the animals were safe until the evening. As for Dulcie, she must find someone to milk that wretched animal, but at the moment she could not think of anyone brave enough to tackle the brute.

  She stubbed out her cigarette, left the exact money on the bill slip—no tip for that young woman today—and went out into the sunshine.

  As much refreshed by her little skirmish as by the coffee, Ella set off briskly to tackle the hill, and all that lay before her at Thrush Green.

  15. Dotty Faces Facts

  WHILE Dotty Harmer lay, unusually quiescent, in her bed in the women's ward of Lulling Cottage Hospital, and Ella puffed up the hill to Thrush Green trying to decide if it were better to collect Flossie immediately or after she had eaten an early lunch, her old friend Dimity Henstock was busy discussing household matters with Charles.

  'We really must buy more bed linen, Charles. Everything in that line went, as you know, and the July sales will be starting quite soon. I could save quite a lot of money.'

  'Well, my dear, you know best, of course, but the insurance people haven't paid out yet, and our bank account is as slender as ever, I fear.'

  'I do know that. The thing is that we shall have so much to buy with it. Beds, for instance. I think it would be sensible to have two single beds in the spare room. We've only had the double one there which means larger sheets which are expensive to launder.'

  'But only two sheets,' pointed out Charles, 'instead of four.'

  'Now I come to think of it,' said Dimity, 'Ella has some of my single sheets that I used when I lived there. I left them with her, but I don't think she has used them. Perhaps I could find out.'

  'But we can't take Ella's sheets!' protested Charles.

  'Strictly speaking, they are mine. Of course, if they are in use I shall leave them for Ella, but it would save me buying quite so many new ones. We shall need new blankets and covers too, of course.'

  'Can you get all you want with fifty pounds?' asked Charles, his chubby face puckered with anxiety.

  'No, Charles, I'm afraid I couldn't. But I shall spend fifty pounds to the very best advantage, believe me.'

  'I know that.'

  'If only the insurance people would pay up! Couldn't you write to them, or get Justin Venables to prod them?'

  'I really don't like to do that.'

  'Well, it's getting rather desperate, you know, Charles. I know we are very happy and comfortable here with Mrs Jenner's things, but we must look ahead to when we have a place of our own.'

  The rector sighed.

  'We have indeed been blessed. If only we could have a house as warm and light as this, Dimity.'

  'And as old and beautiful,' agreed his wife. 'Well, whatever it is it will be lovely to settle in again. I'll call on Ella this afternoon, and find out about the sheets.'

  'You won't rob her of them, will you?' pleaded Charles.

  'Good heavens! I knew dear old Ella long before I met you, Charles, and you can rest assured that neither of us is going to fall out over a few rather shabby sheets!'

  And with that the good rector had to be content.

  Dimity set off to walk the half mile or so from Mrs Jenner's to Thrush Green. It was a calm day—'soft weather' as the Irish call it—and there were very few people about.

  Dimity enjoyed the peace of it all. She walked slowly, relishing the sounds of the countryside heard so clearly in the still air. A cow lowed in one of Percy Hodge's distant fields on her left. In the high branches of a walnut tree on her right she heard the excited squeaking of what she guessed were some long-tailed tits searching busily for insects, and she stopped by a farm gate to listen to the rare summer sound of a cricket in the grass.

  It was all so very soothing, and Dimity's anxieties grew less pressing now that she was in the fresh air and able to enjoy the slower tempo of life about her. She wished that their plans were more definite. Surely they should know by now if a house were planned for the old site, although she was beginning to hope that somewhere else might be found for them. It would be good to make a fresh start. Not that she would ever want to go far from her friends at Thrush Green, but she felt that she could not face the effort needed to supervise the plans for a new abode, nor the delays which were bound to arise.

  If only some pleasant place, like Mrs Jenner's, within a mile or so, say, from their old home could be found, how perfect it would be! Both she and Charles were now getting over the first numbing shock of their loss, and were beginning to long for a place of their own. Dimity knew Charles too well to expect him to take any positive action in asserting his needs. He would be content to wait humbly for what the Church provided, secure in his belief that all would be for the best. Dimity, a little less quiescent, was beginning to wonder if some pressure might not be a good thing.

  She strolled on, and soon came in sight of Thrush Green. A sturdy figure, leading a spaniel, emerged from the lane which led to Lulling Woods, and Dimity recognised her old friend.

  She caught up with her as she crossed the grass towards the home they had once shared.

  'I was just coming to see you,' she cried, bending down to pat Flossie. 'How's Dotty?'

  And Ella told her the sorry tale.

  'Well,' declared Dimity, with unusual firmness, 'it's a blessing in disguise, Ella. She's looked really ill for months now, and won't take any advice. I'm quite relieved to hear that she's being properly looked after for a change.'

  'But that's only temporary, Dim, that's what worries me. I think in a way, this trying to adopt a child was her muddle-headed way of having companionship and a bit of help with the work. Honestly, I'm pretty tough, but after clearing up the worst of that kitchen of hers, I was whacked. It wants a complete turn-out from top to bottom, that house of Dotty's, but who is going to take on the responsibility?'

  'Do you think the niece might come for a bit when Dotty comes out of hospital?'

  'Connie? She might. But she's got a small-holding of her own, I believe. Mind you, they get on pretty well, and Connie's got a good head on her shoulders. I don't think she'd stand any of Dotty's bullying. By the way, did you come for anything special?'

  Dimity explained about the bed linen.

  'I shall be glad
to know they're in use,' replied Ella. 'They've been stored on the top shelf of the airing cupboard ever since you got married. Do them good to see the light of day.'

  And you're sure you have enough? Charles is most anxious that we don't take anything away which might be useful.'

  'My dear old Dim, I've all my own stuff, and when mother died I inherited hers, including some lovely heavy linen sheets with lace insertion. Perishing cold in the winter, but bliss on a hot summer's night, so have no fear on that score. And incidentally, I have a pair of her rugs up in the loft which I shall never use. Say if you want them when you move into the new place. Heard any more yet?'

  Dimity told her how things stood, and how she was beginning to worry about the delay.

  'It'll sort itself out,' said Ella, rising. Let's get those sheets down before we forget them. And do you want some blackcurrants? The bushes at the end of the garden are laden.'

  'Yes, please. It's Charles's favourite fruit. Nothing so good as blackcurrant tart in the winter.'

  'Unless it's dear old rhubarb,' said Ella. Can't think why people turn up their noses at rhubarb. Good for you all the way through, I reckon.'

  They were upstairs retrieving Dimity's sheets when Ella looked at her watch.

  It's Dulcie I'm worried about. She's due to be milked before evening and I haven't found anyone to do it. I'm damned if I'm going to. Any ideas?'

  Arms clutching sheets, Dimity turned her mind to Ella's problem.

  'Percy Hodge might do it, I suppose, but he's pretty busy. Let's ring Charles. He might know of someone. He comes across all sorts of interesting bits of knowledge on his parish visiting.'

  'And tell him to come down to tea,' said Ella, as her friend dialled. 'You'll need the car to get the sheets home, let alone the blackcurrants.'

  Dimity relayed the message and then broached the subject of Dulcie.

  'But Albert Piggott once had goats,' said Charles immediately. 'I'm sure I could persuade him to take on a little task like that. He would be delighted to help Dotty, I'm sure.'