in the sunshine. Also he was in full view of the rectory, should the rector wish to see him at work, and very handy for the Two Pheasants.
He had demolished a helping of steak and kidney pie, with mashed potatoes and tinned peas, at that hostelry, some two hours earlier, paid for by Ben and Molly in advance.
'Not a patch on Nelly's cooking,' he had grumbled to the landlord, who affected deafness. If he took note of all Albert's whinings, he told himself, he'd be in the local loony bin in next to no time. Best to ignore the old misery!
Now, with bending, Albert was suffering from indigestion, and feeling more than usually sorry for himself. Visions of Nelly's pies and roast joints floated before his eyes. No doubt about it, you never got a ha'p'orth of heartburn after Nelly's cooking!
He collected a few more handfuls of groundsel, threw them on to the compost heap, hidden in a remote corner of the churchyard, and wandered across the road to his cottage.
He rummaged in a jamjar which served as his medicine chest, discovered an indigestion tablet, and sat sucking it morosely as he surveyed the kitchen.
Nothing had been done to it since Molly left, apart from a little desultory washing of crockery and cutlery. The stove was dingy. The floor was dirty. The windows were misty with grime, and dust lay everywhere. It needed a woman's hand, thought Albert sentimentally. Here he was, an invalid, with no one to look after him, deserted by his wife and daughter, left to fend for himself in his old age. It was enough to bring tears to your eyes, that it was!
His thoughts turned again to Nelly. She wasn't everybody's choice, of course. For one thing, she must have turned the scales at sixteen stone, and she had a laugh that fairly made your head throb. Then she was a stickler for cutting down on the drink—a bad thing for a man who enjoyed the occasional glass. She was a nagger too, when the spirit moved her. No, she had been lucky to have found someone like himself to put up with her ways, decided Albert.
But there—she was a real stunner of a cook, and could be very loving when she wanted anything. Money, for instance. She wasn't above taking a pound note out of his wallet on the sly, if he didn't pass it over when requested.
And then that flirting with the oil man! That was enough to turn anyone's stomach, remembered Albert. And finally, to leave a good husband and home to live with the fellow! It was unforgivable.
Albert's indigestion grew worse at the very thought of Nelly's infidelity. What if she was a wonderful cook, and a superb housewife? Her morals were no better than an alley cat's. Come to think of it, an alley cat probably behaved more circumspectly than his wife, he decided, rubbing the pain in his diaphragm.
He was better off without her, dirt, indigestion and all. He stumbled across to the sink, and filled the kettle. A cup of tea might settle his tempestuous inside. Nothing like a cup of tea for comfort!
Sniffing slightly with self-pity, Albert fumbled among the dirty dishes on the draining-board and found himself a relatively clean cup.
***
The golden May day ended in a blazing sunset. The rooks flew home to Lulling Woods, and children pleaded to stay up to play.
The bronze statue of Nathaniel Patten on Thrush Green caught the last of the light, glinting like gold. Lilac, narcissi and early stocks breathed out a heady fragrance, and all was at peace.
Two miles away, a tram drew out of Lulling Station. Only one passenger had alighted, and the ticket collector tried to hide his amazement as he took the ticket in his hand...
No words were exchanged, but he watched the traveller out of sight with the greatest excitement.
Purposefully, the large figure waddled towards the town. In one hand it carried a case. In the other, a handbag and a bag of groceries.
For better or for worse, Nelly Piggott was returning to Thrush Green.
10. Ella's Party
FOR little Miss Fogerty, the arrival of her friend Isobel spelt
He had demolished a helping of steak and kidney pie, with mashed potatoes and tinned peas, at that hostelry, some two hours earlier, paid for by Ben and Molly in advance.
'Not a patch on Nelly's cooking,' he had grumbled to the landlord, who affected deafness. If he took note of all Albert's whinings, he told himself, he'd be in the local loony bin in next to no time. Best to ignore the old misery!
Now, with bending, Albert was suffering from indigestion, and feeling more than usually sorry for himself. Visions of Nelly's pies and roast joints floated before his eyes. No doubt about it, you never got a ha'p'orth of heartburn after Nelly's cooking!
He collected a few more handfuls of groundsel, threw them on to the compost heap, hidden in a remote corner of the churchyard, and wandered across the road to his cottage.
He rummaged in a jamjar which served as his medicine chest, discovered an indigestion tablet, and sat sucking it morosely as he surveyed the kitchen.
Nothing had been done to it since Molly left, apart from a little desultory washing of crockery and cutlery. The stove was dingy. The floor was dirty. The windows were misty with grime, and dust lay everywhere. It needed a woman's hand, thought Albert sentimentally. Here he was, an invalid, with no one to look after him, deserted by his wife and daughter, left to fend for himself in his old age. It was enough to bring tears to your eyes, that it was!
His thoughts turned again to Nelly. She wasn't everybody's choice, of course. For one thing, she must have turned the scales at sixteen stone, and she had a laugh that fairly made your head throb. Then she was a stickler for cutting down on the drink—a bad thing for a man who enjoyed the occasional glass. She was a nagger too, when the spirit moved her. No, she had been lucky to have found someone like himself to put up with her ways, decided Albert.
But there—she was a real stunner of a cook, and could be very loving when she wanted anything. Money, for instance. She wasn't above taking a pound note out of his wallet on the sly, if he didn't pass it over when requested.
And then that flirting with the oil man! That was enough to turn anyone's stomach, remembered Albert. And finally, to leave a good husband and home to live with the fellow! It was unforgivable.
Albert's indigestion grew worse at the very thought of Nelly's infidelity. What if she was a wonderful cook, and a superb housewife? Her morals were no better than an alley cat's. Come to think of it, an alley cat probably behaved more circumspectly than his wife, he decided, rubbing the pain in his diaphragm.
He was better off without her, dirt, indigestion and all. He stumbled across to the sink, and filled the kettle. A cup of tea might settle his tempestuous inside. Nothing like a cup of tea for comfort!
Sniffing slightly with self-pity, Albert fumbled among the dirty dishes on the draining-board and found himself a relatively clean cup.
***
The golden May day ended in a blazing sunset. The rooks flew home to Lulling Woods, and children pleaded to stay up to play.
The bronze statue of Nathaniel Patten on Thrush Green caught the last of the light, glinting like gold. Lilac, narcissi and early stocks breathed out a heady fragrance, and all was at peace.
Two miles away, a tram drew out of Lulling Station. Only one passenger had alighted, and the ticket collector tried to hide his amazement as he took the ticket in his hand...
No words were exchanged, but he watched the traveller out of sight with the greatest excitement.
Purposefully, the large figure waddled towards the town. In one hand it carried a case. In the other, a handbag and a bag of groceries.
For better or for worse, Nelly Piggott was returning to Thrush Green.
10. Ella's Party
FOR little Miss Fogerty, the arrival of her friend Isobel spelt
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