Authors: Rebecca Shaw
Village Matters (10 page)
‘Don’t be ridiculous, Caroline, how can I be in labour, it simply isn’t convenient at the moment with Jimbo away. I can’t be, anyway it’s three more weeks yet. I can’t be. Can I?’ She looked up at Caroline and as their eyes met they both
acknowledged that she very likely was. ‘Whatever will Jimbo say?’
‘Have you a bag packed?’
‘No. Didn’t think I’d be needing it just yet. It’s a false alarm. I’ll go home and get to bed. Yes, that’s it, I’m feeling odd because I’ve got overtired and I’ve got this blessed indigestion.’
Caroline suggested an ambulance might be more appropriate. ‘Let’s time two more contractions, and then we’ll make our decision. Tell me when the next one starts. You watch the clock, Muriel.’ Neither Caroline nor Harriet noticed the look on Muriel’s face. If they had they would have got her a chair to sit on before she fell down.
Caroline saw a look of concentration come into Harriet’s face. ‘Now, Muriel.’
‘It’s ten past ten.’
‘Right. Let’s wait for the next one. Sit down, Muriel, it may be some time.’
They waited only eight minutes before the next contraction came.
‘Shouldn’t I be doing something, like boiling a kettle?’ Her faint squeaky voice made Caroline look at her.
‘Do you know what, I think it would be a good idea if you went across to Henderson’s and got Sadie to pack a bag for Harriet. Could you do that now?’
‘Of course, you don’t need the kettle then?’
‘If you like.’ Muriel filled it, put it on the Aga and then quietly let herself out into the dark street. She scurried down Stocks Row and past The Royal Oak, where everyone appeared to be behaving quite normally, a fact which Muriel found difficult to understand in the circumstances.
She hammered on the front door of Henderson’s and
strained to hear Sadie coming down the hall. ‘Come on, Sadie, come on.’
The door opened sharply. Sadie peered out into the dark. ‘Heavens! Muriel! Is there a fire?’
‘Fire? Oh no, it’s Harriet. She’s – she’s gone into labour and it’s very quick and Caroline said could you get her a bag ready for the hospital and she’s thinking she will have to ring for the ambulance. Oh Sadie, I don’t know anything about these things but it does seem to me that it’s nearly here. Harriet is in such great pain, I don’t know how she can bear it.’
‘Oh my God, come in. Oh dear. I’m much too old for this kind of thing, I did tell her not to do it, but she never listens to me.’ Sadie fluttered about the hall distractedly, still managing to look elegant despite her anxiety. ‘Wait here, I’ll run upstairs and see what I can find.’
Muriel waited on the hall chair, restless to be off, but at the same time wishing she didn’t need to return to the rectory. She couldn’t leave Caroline to cope on her own, could she? She had to be brave and stick it out. Before Ralph came, life was so quiet and untroubled and now it seemed as though at every turn she was facing challenge. She heard Sadie opening and shutting drawers upstairs, then heard her collecting bottles and things in the bathroom. Then footsteps on the landing and Sadie came hurrying down, bag in hand.
‘Give her my love and tell her I’ll hold the fort till Jimbo gets back tomorrow. Oh God, I shall have to phone him on his mobile. He’ll go mad. Tell her I’ll stay here all night, OK?’
Muriel fled as fast as she could back to the rectory hampered by the weight of the bag. Surely Harriet wouldn’t need all this stuff? Anyone would think she was
going in for a month.
Caroline opened the door. ‘I’ve rung for the ambulance, it won’t be long now.’ Muriel handed her the bag and hesitatingly re-entered the kitchen. Harriet was standing up holding on to the edge of the kitchen table, her back bent, her whole body concentrating on managing the pain.
In a brief respite between the pains Harriet said, ‘Terribly sorry about this. It’s nearly here, you know.’
‘I know it is.’ They all three heard the ambulance draw up outside and Muriel fled to open the door.
The ambulance men came in to the kitchen and shook hands with Caroline as though they had all the time in the world.
‘Well now, nice to see you back in harness again, Doctor. We’ve got here as quickly as we could. You were in good hands, Mrs Charter-Plackett, well known for being cool in a crisis is our Dr Harris.’
The telephone rang and Muriel went to answer it.
‘The Rectory here.’
‘Who’s that?’
‘Muriel Hipkin . . . oh, no, I mean Templeton. Oh dear.’
‘Jimbo Charter-Plackett here. I’ve had a phone call about Harriet. Sadie gave a very incoherent message to one of my assistants, and I can’t understand it. They said I’d to ring the rectory.’
‘Well Jimbo, Harriet can’t come to the phone at the moment, because the ambulance has just arrived and she’s going to hospital as quickly as possible because Caroline says the baby is nearly here.’
‘Oh my God. Oh my God. Is she all right?’
‘Yes, she’s doing fine.’
‘Oh my God, oh my God. What shall I do? I knew I
shouldn’t have left her. I did tell her. I don’t believe it. It’s so early.’
‘She’s made a kind of grand finale to the Coffee Evening.’
‘Tell Harriet I love her and I’m coming home as soon as I’ve rearranged things for tomorrow.’
‘Jimbo don’t come home, go directly to the hospital.’
‘Of course, of course, I’m not thinking straight. Thank Caroline for me, please.’
Muriel started to say, ‘Drive carefully’, but the phone went dead so she replaced the receiver.
When she returned to the kitchen the ambulance men had wrapped Harriet in a blanket and were about to get her into the ambulance. ‘Harriet, my dear, that was Jimbo. He sends his love and he’s going directly to the hospital.’
Caroline followed them out of the door and laid Harriet’s holdall on the floor of the ambulance. ‘Good luck. It won’t be long now. I’ll ring in an hour and see how you are.’ When Harriet had gone, Caroline went back into the rectory to thank Muriel for her help and to make a cup of tea she’d promised when they were clearing up.
Muriel was sitting ashen-faced on a kitchen chair, her forearms resting in the table.
‘I know I must look awful, I’m so sorry, but I’m not used to babies coming and it’s upset me a great deal. I thought it was going to come here in the kitchen.’
‘So did I. Thank heavens they got here quickly. I’m shattered. It’s a long time since I did maternity.’
‘I’m going home now to have a cup of camomile tea to steady my nerves. Thank you for a lovely evening, Caroline. I’m so glad it was such a success. Harriet will be all right, won’t she?’
‘Of course, don’t worry. Babies do come quickly sometimes.’
She screwed up her eyes very tightly and waited for His reply. She hoped He was listening; after all, she was being naughty not going to school when Daddy thought she was there. But there are days when you can’t do what you ought, and it’s not every day a girl gets a new sister. ‘It will have to begin with F, you see, or she’ll think she doesn’t belong to Finlay and Fergus and me, and I wouldn’t want her to think she’s adopted. She is beautiful, God, and I want to thank you for being so kind as to send me a pretty sister. I wouldn’t have wanted an ugly one. But I do think you let Mummy leave it a bit late. It’s not funny being born in an
ambulance in the hospital car park. Whatever will she think when she grows up? She’ll think we’ve been careless. When we get Mummy home tomorrow I shall tell her, Frances Charter-Plackett. It sounds very distinguished, don’t you think?’
Flick heard footsteps, so she opened her eyes. It was Peter coming out of the choir vestry.
‘Hello, Flick. Isn’t it wonderful news about your new sister?’
‘Hello, Mr Harris. Yes, but I wish you’d sent for me, I’ve been reading all about it, I could have helped.’
‘Your sister was in the most tremendous hurry, I don’t think Mrs Harris had time to think about sending for help.’
‘She is a proper doctor, isn’t she? You called her Mrs Harris then.’
‘Well, yes, she is. I should have said Dr Harris in the circumstances, I know.’
‘I’m so glad I’ve got a little sister. When you see her you’ll think she’s very beautiful, you know. Just as beautiful as your Beth.’
Willie came in through the church door, wearing his gardening clothes. ‘Oh, there you are Flick, your Dad’s out of his mind. They’ve just rung from the school to say you never arrived. He’s been out looking for you. He’s gone back to the Store now, ’cos they’re so busy this morning with everyone wanting to hear about your new baby.’
‘I’d better go, then. He panics you know, Mummy says he does anyway. He does need me to look after him with her away. Bye bye.’ Flick went out into the rain, her pigtails flapping as she ran.
Willie chuckled. ‘A right old-fashioned little girl she is, and no mistake. Anyways, sir, I know it’s raining but I’m going to make a start on extending that brick path by
the . . .’ He stopped speaking, halted by the sound of the most horrendous crash. He and Peter looked at each other, fear in their eyes. Without a word Peter picked up the skirts of his cassock and raced out through the door and down the path with Willie close behind, the rain lashing at them as they ran.
They found Flick lying misshapenly, face down in the middle of the road just past the lych gate, blood slowly seeping from her head onto the tarmac. The car which had run her down was slammed against the churchyard wall beyond the lych gate, with Alan Crimble still in the driver’s seat, his head resting on the steering wheel. He too had blood seeping from his head, running in dribbles onto his knees. The silence was harrowing.
Willie went to turn Flick over. Peter shouted urgently, ‘Don’t move her. Get Caroline. Ring for an ambulance. Quick.’ He knelt down in the road beside Flick and listened for her breathing. Shock. Yes, shock. Keep her warm. He unbuttoned his cassock and laid it over her. There were footsteps and it was Jimbo and then suddenly a crowd. Jimbo knelt on the road beside Flick. Deathly white, breathing as though he’d run in a race. His head almost touching the road, he looked into her face for signs of life. Almost afraid to touch her, he gently laid the back of his hand on her cheek. He pulled Peter’s cassock more closely around her shoulders. Tucked it carefully around her small bare feet. He looked up at Peter. Inside themselves they both wept.
Peter went to attend to Alan. He sat motionless, crouched over the wheel. The windscreen had shattered and the crazed glass cast curious broken light on Alan’s head. The blood still drip-dripping on to his trousers. Peter managed to force the car door open. He touched Alan’s
shoulder. Slowly his head came up. Peter saw a great gash on his forehead. Instinctively, he got a freshly laundered handkerchief from his trouser pocket and gave it to Alan to press to his head.
Peter helped him to get out of the car. Alan moved as though in a trance. He straightened up. He was dreadfully sick right there on the road. Peter turned away. He could see Caroline kneeling beside Flick. Jimbo was beside her, his hand on Caroline’s shoulder. Waiting. Waiting.
‘I can feel her pulse, Jimbo. All we can do is keep her warm until the ambulance arrives. They won’t be long.’
Jimbo cleared his throat and tried to speak but the words wouldn’t come. He gestured with his hands helplessly. Caroline patted his arm and smiled reassuringly. She stayed kneeling on the road beside Flick, stroking her hair and talking to her. The crowd, now much larger but still silent, stood watching Alan Crimble leaning against the church wall, handkerchief to his head, deathly white and panting.
Jimbo noticed him for the first time and in a flash galvanised himself into action. His voice, dry and choking, pushed its way out of his throat. ‘I’ll kill you for this.’ In a moment he was across the road and his hands were around Alan’s throat, squeezing, squeezing.
Peter grabbed Jimbo’s wrists and forced his hands away from Alan’s neck. Peter spoke firmly. ‘This won’t do Jimbo, go talk to Flick, she needs you. I’ll take care of Alan.’
Alan found his voice; a small, thin piping voice begging for understanding.
‘I never saw her, she came out of the gate and I’d hit her before I could do anything. I couldn’t help it, it wasn’t my fault she ran into the road without looking. I really couldn’t help it. They can’t blame me. They can’t.’
‘Compose yourself, Alan. Jimbo’s very overwrought,
you’ll have to excuse him.’
‘Is she . . . you know, is she dead?’
‘No.’
‘Thank God.’
‘But she’s badly hurt.’
Caroline left Jimbo to comfort Flick and went to speak to Alan. She lifted Peter’s handkerchief from his forehead and examined the gash.
‘You’ll be needing stiches, Alan, but not to worry, it doesn’t look too serious. How do you feel everywhere else?’
‘All right I think, but I feel so cold.’ He was trembling from head to foot.
Caroline looked at the silent crowd. They were standing completely still showing no emotion.
‘Anyone a coat they could lend Alan? It’s the shock, he’s feeling cold.’
The question stirred them.
‘So he should be.’
‘Serves ’im right.’
‘So?’
They began a kind of ugly murmuring which left to itself could have become explosive. Peter said in a loud voice, ‘I have a blanket in my car, use that.’ He gave Caroline the keys. She left him to face the crowd. His height gave him the advantage. Peter deliberately caught their eyes to stare them down. One by one they looked at him and then, outstared, glanced shamefacedly down.
‘Flick will need all our prayers and love. And so will Alan, he didn’t deliberately run her down, it was an accident.’
The sound of the ambulance siren could be heard as it came down the Culworth Road. The crew jumped out
almost the moment it pulled up. Peter felt as though they had taken at least an hour to arrive, but when he checked his watch he found scarcely fifteen minutes had passed since he’d first heard the noise of the crash.
Caroline suggested Jimbo should go in the ambulance. He held her arm. ‘Yes, yes, of course.’ He pleaded with her for advice. ‘Caroline, how am I going to tell Harriet?’
‘Very, very gently, and with hope, Jimbo.’
The ambulance man nodded in the direction of Alan Crimble. ‘We’ll take this gentleman too, Dr Harris.’
‘Of course. It looks like he only has that head wound, but he’s in shock.’
He turned aside and said quietly to Caroline, ‘You don’t need me to tell you the little girl’s in a bad way, Doctor.’
‘I know, I know.’
‘Very bad, actually.’
The driver stood waiting to close the ambulance doors. Alan, still wrapped in Peter’s blanket, climbed unsteadily up the steps. Jimbo followed him in. The other ambulance man was inside attending to Flick, who lay on the stretcher silent and still, so contrary to the way she lived her life. The driver slammed the doors shut and strode round to the front to climb in the cab. He acknowledged Caroline’s wave and then drove steadily out of the village. The crowd, left behind with no one to vent their anger on, drifted away in twos and threes, talking quietly.
Caroline pulled herself together to face the realities. ‘I’m going to the Store, Peter, do you think we should close it for the rest of the day?’
‘With both Harriet and Jimbo not there, I think there’s no alternative. I’ll come with you.’ Caroline saw Flick’s blue flip-flops by the churchyard wall; rather strangely they were laid side by side, as if Flick had taken them off and put
them neatly there to await her return. She carried them across to the Store, tears welling in her eyes. They looked so forlorn there in her hand, as though they felt of no use any more.
When they got into the Store, Sadie was behind the counter, tears pouring down her face. ‘I’m not brave, I couldn’t go out to see her.’ She asked Caroline what she thought. ‘What do you think? She isn’t dead is she?’
‘No, she isn’t, but it is very serious. There are several bones broken. But I know the orthopaedic surgeon, Archie McKintyre, he’s an outstanding man. If anyone can do anything for her, he will. He is quite brilliant. Very innovative.’ Caroline put her arm round Sadie and hugged her tight.
‘I’m being a damned old fool. For the boys’ sakes I shall have to pull myself together.’
‘What about closing the Store? You can’t cope with everything and the boys will need your support, they can’t be left alone.’
‘How sensible. Linda write me a notice, “Shop closed temporarily, sorry for any inconvenience.” If they complain they know what they can do. Tomorrow I shall get organised and bring in some help. Pray for her Peter, I’m sure your prayers will count for more than mine.’
Peter smiled gently. ‘I don’t believe that for one minute.’
Caroline held out Flick’s flip-flops. ‘I found these in the road.’ Sadie cradled them against her face, and whispered ‘God help us all.’
At midday Caroline rang the hospital for news. She went to tell Peter in his study. ‘They’re taking her into theatre right now. Fractured skull, and several broken bones including both legs and her pelvis. But she’s holding her own very well. She’s a tough little girl, with lots of
determination, if anyone can pull through she will.’
‘Poor Harriet. At such a vulnerable time too. I think I’ll be off to the hospital. God knows what you say to parents at this moment.’
‘I know you’ll find the right words, you always do.’ She kissed him and went to hug her own two children, playing with water in the kitchen sink while Sylvia made the lunch.
That night, without Alan, Bryn and Georgie were short-handed in the bar. Of course they were extremely busy: all their regulars had come in wanting to know what had happened and to pass their own verdict on where the blame lay.
‘Told Alan more than once he should have his car serviced. Right mess it was, yer know, Bryn. Wrecker’s yard out Penny Fawcett way was the best place for it. That’s where it will end up now, and not before time. You should’ve insisted.’
Bryn stroked his big moustache and replied, ‘I’m not his keeper, only his employer.’
‘Yer could have advised him.’
Bryn protested. ‘He’s a grown man and . . .’
‘Grown man? He’s a kid really. Irresponsible, that’s what. Drives far too fast as we all know. See’d him once coming home from Culworth like a bat out of hell, however he made that sharp right hand turn by the signpost I’ll never know. ‘Nother time ’e scared the living daylights out of a friend of mine coming over that crossroads where the rector had his accident. Maniac behind a wheel, is Alan.’
‘Police’ll throw the book at him.’ The speaker enumerated on his fingers the crimes of which he guessed Alan was guilty. ‘Careless driving for a start. Driving
without insurance. Driving without a road fund licence. No MOT. Tyres not up to snuff. Lights not working properly, and brakes not up to scratch, and that’s
without
examining the car.’
Another regular pronounced in a loud voice, ‘What’s more I shan’t want him serving me in ’ere of a night. Not a fella who can run a little girl down, and a lovely little girl she is too.’
Georgie, who’d kept silent until now, spoke up. ‘Now look here, we all know that Flick ran out of the gate and into the road without looking, and Alan didn’t see her because of the lych gate. She came straight out at him, he’d no time.’
‘Even if he had had time to see her he couldn’t have stopped because his brakes weren’t good enough. If you’ll take my advice you’ll give him the order of the boot.’
‘The order of what?’
‘Give him his cards, finish him, sack him or whatever they call it nowadays. When will he be out of hospital?’
‘Tomorrow, most likely.’
‘Well, give him his notice tomorrow then.’
‘I shall do nothing of the sort. Tell him that the day he comes out? That’s not very Christian, is it? We’ve no cause to do that, he’s a good worker, knows this business like the back of his hand. In any case Bryn and I employ whom we wish in our pub, it is our business after all.’
‘It is, you’re absolutely right and it’s a free world. But if yer want yer takings to slump, you keep him.’ Bryn quietly shook his head at Georgie, whose temper was beginning to boil up, and she let the matter go. The customers took their drinks to a table and left the two of them battling to keep everyone served.