to plain English, Augustus,” she said, and turned back along the grassy path to the graveyard gates.
They stood outside the church, looking down the village street, and Ivy said shouldn’t they go back to Springfields now and have coffee and biscuits? “Still plenty of the morning left, and we can decide what to do next.”
As Gus’s only commitment that day was tea with Miriam, he agreed. He might see that pretty Polish girl again, and then there was Mrs. Spurling to keep sweet. It occurred to him suddenly that he was surrounded by women. He’d not met a single man so far to share a pint with him at the pub. Perhaps he would call in again at the shop on his way home, see if Will was the matey sort. He would certainly be in possession of a good deal of useful information. Who else? Theo Roussel was probably a snooty toff who would never set foot in the village pub, even if the Beattie woman would allow him to. Nobody else, as yet.
He would ask Will what else went on in the village. He knew there was a Women’s Institute, but obviously not for him. Cricket club? Darts team? Reading group? Ivy had pointed out to him the old Reading Room, bequeathed by Theo’s grandfather to the village, and lately restored. Logical place for a reading group, he thought, but did he want to read books chosen by other people? Depends who are the other members, he decided. Lots of questions, all of which could be answered by Will the shopkeeper.
By the time they reached Springfields, Gus realised he hadn’t listened to a word Ivy had been saying. Still, he gathered early on in the conversation that it was mostly about the iniquities of the people of Round Ringford, Ivy’s home for most of her life.
“Morning, Mr. Halfhide!” Mrs. Spurling was in the hall, looking as if she had been standing there waiting for them. “Ready for your coffee now, Miss Beasley? Katya took up your tray, with a cup for Mr. Halfhide, only to find you two had absconded!”
“Eloped, perhaps?” laughed Gus. Oh God, he thought, is this really me?
“No chance of that,” said Ivy sharply. “And yes, send the coffee up to my room at once. And shortbread,” she added.
“What’s the magic word?” muttered Mrs. Spurling under her breath, but she smiled bravely and disappeared towards the kitchens.
When they reached Ivy’s room, she turned on Gus. “I’ll thank you to show a little more respect,” she said. “Eloped, indeed! Do you know how old I am?”
“Age is of no importance where love is concerned,” Gus said, “but no, Ivy, it was a small joke. Not meant to offend. You can be sure I have great respect for you and will watch my foolish tongue in the future.”
“Right,” said Ivy, sitting down in her chair by the window. “Now, what is next for us to do. I shall see Miss Beatty tomorrow, but we have no time to waste.”
Gus reflected that he had planned to put his feet up and watch the racing with Whippy, who always watched fixedly as the sweating, snorting horses galloped by. Then it would be teatime with Miriam. He would have to be careful that Ivy did not take charge, else all three of them would be slaving eight hours a day following up red herrings. Fortunately, there was a knock at the door and the pretty Polish girl came in with a laden tray.
“Morning, Katya,” Gus said quickly, before Ivy could find anything to criticise. “How are you settling down in England, my dear?” Ivy scowled at him, but he pretended not to notice.
“Very well, thank you, sir,” Katya said, smiling broadly at him. He spoke so beautifully that she could understand every word. “You like something else?”
“Won’t you stay and tell us about Poland for a while?” Gus said hopefully.
Katya raised her eyebrows. “Oh, no, sir. Not allowed! Thank you, sir,” she said, and rushed from the room.
“Fool!” Ivy said. “D’you think old Spurling would let her fraternise with the guests? She allows them two sentences per inmate, and that’s it.”
Gus was quite sure that Ivy was making this up, but consoled himself that he was quite likely to meet Katya in the street some time, and then he could take things further. Poor girl was probably lonely, and would welcome a fatherly friend to take care of her.
“Down to business,” Ivy said, seeing Gus lost in a day-dream. “You can drive, can’t you? Time to get a decent car for you, and then we’ll be safely mobile without asking Deirdre for the loan of her Rolls Royce every time we want to go into town.”
It was beginning to look like Ivy intended Gus and herself to be an investigating twosome, and he was not sure this was a good idea. She could cramp his style more than somewhat, and he said that yes, he could drive, but had no money for new cars at present. Maybe later. Meanwhile, he must drink up his coffee and get going. “Some important research to do,” he said vaguely, and palmed a couple of shortbreads into his pocket for later.
Eleven
THE SHOP WAS full of people who had just got off the Tresham bus, bags full of purchases from the market. Will was trying hard to restock the shop with more interesting items than had the previous owner, hoping to lure customers who would eventually give up supermarket shopping. A forlorn hope, but worth a try, he thought. The post office was still a useful adjunct, but there was a constant threat to its continuation. Post offices were fast disappearing from rural areas, and elderly people were up in arms at the loss. Where would they get their pensions, their TV licence stamps, post their letters to home and abroad?
At present, the shop was flourishing. Will was popular, and already had been elected to the parish council. He was a bachelor, young and good-looking, and gaggles of teenaged schoolgirls made straight for the shop’s new selection of ice creams the moment they got off the afternoon bus. Will was only human, and appreciated long legs and fluttering eyelashes along with the other youngbloods in the village. But he was very careful not to overstep the mark, and was regarded as trustworthy by all.
“Hi, Will,” said Gus, adopting the jargon, he hoped.
“Good morning again, Gus,” Will said with a smile. “Forgotten something? Milk, some of my delicious new cheeses?”
“No, sorry. Maybe later. No, I came in to see if you could fill me in on activities in the village. Something likely for me to join? I mean to be a useful part of the community, in time.”
“Blimey! Better not say that too loud, else you’ll find yourself dragged into everything, even the WI if you’re not careful. They’re talking about having men’s evenings, if you can believe it! No, you know what they say about a willing horse. Well, it’s certainly true in Barrington. But,” he added, “to be serious, I am sure there’s a couple of things to interest you. First the pub, and then the reading group… well, only possibly the reading group.”
Gus laughed. Here was a man after his own heart, even though he was-um-several years younger. “Well done,” he said. “Just what I wanted. Now, I suppose I could go down for a pint tonight, but…” He hesitated, and Will said obligingly that he would be glad to meet him there around nine o’clock and introduce him to some of the lads.
“And by lads,” Will added, “I mean lads aged from eighteen to eighty! Some of the old locals are great. And just watch out if they challenge you to dominoes. They’ll have all your loose change off you in no time!”
“Thanks a lot,” Gus said. “Are you also a member of the reading group? What’s that like?”
Will shook his head. “Don’t have time to read the books. Running this place is more than a full-time job. They meet once a month, and I believe they’re a nice lot. You can go just for one evening to try it out-doesn’t even matter if you’ve not read the book, apparently!”
“Are they all highly educated, well read, and all that?”
“Shouldn’t think so. The ones I know are just average readers. Anyway, you could give it a try.”
Gus spotted the shelf of jams and chutneys, and took a selection. “These’ll brighten my meagre diet,” he said, and handed over a surprising amount of money. “Only the best, I assume?”
Will nodded. “Of course,” he said. “Though her up at the Hall, our Miss Beatty, says they’re rubbish, and expensive rubbish at that.”
“Best recommendation you could have, I’ve been told,” said Gus. Then several people came in at once, and he left, pleased with himself for having made an excellent start.
At exactly three thirty in the afternoon, he knocked at Miriam’s door. He had spruced himself up, including
