go. Stay and finish your coffee.’
‘Harriet, tell me, has Hugo ever been married?’
‘No. But he’s had dozens of female “admirers”, believe me. He’s far too gorgeous to have escaped someone’s clutches, don’t you think?’
‘Of course. Yes. Here, let me rinse the cups.’
‘Nonsense, they can go in with the rest.’ Uncharacteristically for Harriet she gave Caroline a kiss on her cheek. ‘Take care. Take care.’ And Caroline knew she wasn’t referring to her crossing the road.
Mrs Jones was working in the little mail order office when Caroline walked by on her way out.
‘Hello, Mrs Jones. How’s things?’
‘Fine, thanks. And you?’
‘Fine, thanks. Lovely weather.’
‘It is.’ She snapped off the sticky tape on a parcel she was wrapping and called Caroline back. ‘Dr Harris!’
Caroline came back and stood inside the doorway. ‘Yes?’
‘I wouldn’t mind giving a hand with this play. Backstage and that, of course. Our Michelle would like to help, too. There’d be plenty of things to do besides acting, wouldn’t there?’
‘Of course. I’m sure there would be. I’ll tell Hugo. He’ll be delighted to find things for you to do.’
‘I’m a dab hand with a needle and sewing machine if it’s costumes.’
‘Right. Well, it takes place in the nineteen twenties so I suppose, yes, we shall need a wardrobe mistress. I’ll ask Hugo if that’s all right, I’m sure he’ll be pleased.’
‘Then that’s that.’
‘Oh, but I think we should check with …’
‘Michelle and me, we’ll be in charge of costumes.’
‘If it’s all right with Hugo, yes, that will be lovely.’
‘It’s all right, is it, this play? I mean, it’s not disgusting? I wouldn’t want our Michelle to be involved if it was.’
‘The Rector’s reading it this very minute.’
Mrs Jones laughed. ‘Oh, well, if he says yes then it’s OK. My Barry’s been roped in by Mr Fitch to do the scenery, did you know?’
‘No, I didn’t. He’ll be excellent for that job, won’t he?’
‘Of course. And Mr Charter-P’s put Pat in charge of refreshments, two nights you’re doing it, eh?’
‘Friday and Saturday.’
‘Right. Well, I’ll get to the library and I’ll get some books out on costume. Charleston and that.’
‘That sounds wonderful. We need all the help we can get.’
‘If Mr Fitch has his way there’ll be a play done at least once a year. And why not? Time we brightened ourselves up. All the talent we’ve got in this village, we could get famous.’
Caroline said she thought fame might be a bit too ambitious.
‘Just Wait till the press get onto it. The famous Hugo Maude, no less. And he’s lovely, isn’t he? Came in here the other morning and sat perched on that cupboard there chatting away as if we’d known each other all our lives. I told him things I’ve never mentioned to a living soul and he understood, truly understood how hard life can be.’
‘He is very understanding.’
Mrs Jones gave her a piercing look. ‘We’ll have to mind our Ps and Qs, though. We’re all taking a fancy to him, not just …’
‘Yes?’
Rather lamely Mrs Jones said, ‘Not just the young ones.’ She neatly lined up the parcel she’d just sealed alongside the edge of the table, half started to speak again and then changed her mind, cleared her throat, picked up a list and began to study it.
Caroline wished her good morning and went through to the Store.
Dottie Foskett was standing, arms folded, propped against the chill counter listening to her cousin Vera Wright. ‘So, just as I was closing the curtains – after all, you have to be careful these days even in a village, come to think of it, even more so in a village – when I sees ’em arriving at the Rectory door step. Believe it or believe it not he kissed her, and I don’t mean a peck on the cheek like we’ve all started doing since we joined the Common Market — I mean, I blame the French for it — right on her lips
‘Harriet, tell me, has Hugo ever been married?’
‘No. But he’s had dozens of female “admirers”, believe me. He’s far too gorgeous to have escaped someone’s clutches, don’t you think?’
‘Of course. Yes. Here, let me rinse the cups.’
‘Nonsense, they can go in with the rest.’ Uncharacteristically for Harriet she gave Caroline a kiss on her cheek. ‘Take care. Take care.’ And Caroline knew she wasn’t referring to her crossing the road.
Mrs Jones was working in the little mail order office when Caroline walked by on her way out.
‘Hello, Mrs Jones. How’s things?’
‘Fine, thanks. And you?’
‘Fine, thanks. Lovely weather.’
‘It is.’ She snapped off the sticky tape on a parcel she was wrapping and called Caroline back. ‘Dr Harris!’
Caroline came back and stood inside the doorway. ‘Yes?’
‘I wouldn’t mind giving a hand with this play. Backstage and that, of course. Our Michelle would like to help, too. There’d be plenty of things to do besides acting, wouldn’t there?’
‘Of course. I’m sure there would be. I’ll tell Hugo. He’ll be delighted to find things for you to do.’
‘I’m a dab hand with a needle and sewing machine if it’s costumes.’
‘Right. Well, it takes place in the nineteen twenties so I suppose, yes, we shall need a wardrobe mistress. I’ll ask Hugo if that’s all right, I’m sure he’ll be pleased.’
‘Then that’s that.’
‘Oh, but I think we should check with …’
‘Michelle and me, we’ll be in charge of costumes.’
‘If it’s all right with Hugo, yes, that will be lovely.’
‘It’s all right, is it, this play? I mean, it’s not disgusting? I wouldn’t want our Michelle to be involved if it was.’
‘The Rector’s reading it this very minute.’
Mrs Jones laughed. ‘Oh, well, if he says yes then it’s OK. My Barry’s been roped in by Mr Fitch to do the scenery, did you know?’
‘No, I didn’t. He’ll be excellent for that job, won’t he?’
‘Of course. And Mr Charter-P’s put Pat in charge of refreshments, two nights you’re doing it, eh?’
‘Friday and Saturday.’
‘Right. Well, I’ll get to the library and I’ll get some books out on costume. Charleston and that.’
‘That sounds wonderful. We need all the help we can get.’
‘If Mr Fitch has his way there’ll be a play done at least once a year. And why not? Time we brightened ourselves up. All the talent we’ve got in this village, we could get famous.’
Caroline said she thought fame might be a bit too ambitious.
‘Just Wait till the press get onto it. The famous Hugo Maude, no less. And he’s lovely, isn’t he? Came in here the other morning and sat perched on that cupboard there chatting away as if we’d known each other all our lives. I told him things I’ve never mentioned to a living soul and he understood, truly understood how hard life can be.’
‘He is very understanding.’
Mrs Jones gave her a piercing look. ‘We’ll have to mind our Ps and Qs, though. We’re all taking a fancy to him, not just …’
‘Yes?’
Rather lamely Mrs Jones said, ‘Not just the young ones.’ She neatly lined up the parcel she’d just sealed alongside the edge of the table, half started to speak again and then changed her mind, cleared her throat, picked up a list and began to study it.
Caroline wished her good morning and went through to the Store.
Dottie Foskett was standing, arms folded, propped against the chill counter listening to her cousin Vera Wright. ‘So, just as I was closing the curtains – after all, you have to be careful these days even in a village, come to think of it, even more so in a village – when I sees ’em arriving at the Rectory door step. Believe it or believe it not he kissed her, and I don’t mean a peck on the cheek like we’ve all started doing since we joined the Common Market — I mean, I blame the French for it — right on her lips
Similar Books
