routine talk with Beth at the kitchen table. This time she was still in the killing vein but it was about capital punishment, and did Dottie approve of it?
‘No, I don’t. Neither should you as a good Christian girl.’
‘Are you a good Christian girl, Dottie?’
There was a pause before Beth got her reply. ‘Well, maybe not. I don’t go to church reg’lar as I should, that’s certain.’
‘Neither do I at the moment. Ever since Africa I can’t manage to go out.’ Beth said this with her head down and her toast dripping honey on to the table.
‘Here, let me do that, you’re dripping all over the place.’ Dottie skilfully wiped up the mess with a piece of wet kitchen roll. Matter-of-factly she commented, ‘You will one day. One thing’s for absolute sure: you can’t stay in this house forever and a day. What would you do if your dad moved to another parish, eh? Stay on as a lodger? Right fool you’d feel.’
She grinned at Beth in a conspiratorial way and Beth had to laugh. ‘I would wouldn’t I?’ They both giggled about it and somehow Beth’s load seemed to have become marginally lighter.
By the time Dottie had finished her Friday chores Beth was waiting for her in the hall. She took a deep breath and asked, ‘Dottie, could I walk with you to the church? Not to go in, just to walk there and then I’d come back home?’ There was something so anxious and so intensely sad about Beth that Dottie couldn’t have refused her if she’d wanted to. Caroline gave Dottie a discreet nod of encouragement from behind Beth, so Dottie put her wages in her bag and the two of them set off.
The first step Beth took over the threshold, other than going into the garden to choose flowers for her mother, was the most desperately important step she’d ever taken in her life. Her breathing became far too fast, too loud, too rasping, but she forced her feet to move and when she was standing outside on the road she grasped Dottie’s hand. Head down, she walked past Willie and Sylvia’s, past the gate to the church hall and as far as the lychgate, no distance at all, but to Beth it was a million miles. By the time she arrived there she was trembling from head to toe, her grip on Dottie’s hand was fierce and somehow she couldn’t let go.
Beth didn’t appear to be setting off back, so Dottie asked, ‘Shall I walk you back again, love?’
Beth nodded. ‘Thank you, thank you very much. I thought I could do it on my own but I can’t. On Monday I might go in the church if I feel well enough. Would you come in with me?’
‘Well, now, that’ll be a turn-up for the book, but yes, I certainly will, only because you want me to, though. Right?’
Beth leapt back over the Rectory threshold, overwhelmed with relief to be safe home again.
God! thought Dottie. What damn well happened to that child in Africa? Something too terrible for her to tell. Yet Alex was going to school as though nothing had happened. Maybe making life normal was his way of dealing with whatever it was.
At home in her old cottage that crouched squat and neglected at the very bottom of Shepherd’s Hill, Dottie had to laugh to herself at the idea of her going into church. ‘What are things coming to?’ she said out loud. ‘Dottie Foskett, loose woman extraordinaire, going to church. Oh, my. Oh, my.’
Chapter 7
Andy strolled into the Store two days later carrying a small parcel contained inside a freezer-bag. ‘Jimbo in?’ he called out cheerfully to Tom.
‘In the back with a rep and not to be disturbed, but he won’t be long.’
Andy acknowledged the information with a thumbs-up, and began to roam the Store, picking up this and putting down that after a thorough inspection. He bent down to sniff the cold meats as though suspecting they might walk off the counter so full of maggots were they. Tom, beginning to resent this assiduous inspection, unlocked himself from his ‘cage’ and went to have a word. As an ex-policeman he had a
‘No, I don’t. Neither should you as a good Christian girl.’
‘Are you a good Christian girl, Dottie?’
There was a pause before Beth got her reply. ‘Well, maybe not. I don’t go to church reg’lar as I should, that’s certain.’
‘Neither do I at the moment. Ever since Africa I can’t manage to go out.’ Beth said this with her head down and her toast dripping honey on to the table.
‘Here, let me do that, you’re dripping all over the place.’ Dottie skilfully wiped up the mess with a piece of wet kitchen roll. Matter-of-factly she commented, ‘You will one day. One thing’s for absolute sure: you can’t stay in this house forever and a day. What would you do if your dad moved to another parish, eh? Stay on as a lodger? Right fool you’d feel.’
She grinned at Beth in a conspiratorial way and Beth had to laugh. ‘I would wouldn’t I?’ They both giggled about it and somehow Beth’s load seemed to have become marginally lighter.
By the time Dottie had finished her Friday chores Beth was waiting for her in the hall. She took a deep breath and asked, ‘Dottie, could I walk with you to the church? Not to go in, just to walk there and then I’d come back home?’ There was something so anxious and so intensely sad about Beth that Dottie couldn’t have refused her if she’d wanted to. Caroline gave Dottie a discreet nod of encouragement from behind Beth, so Dottie put her wages in her bag and the two of them set off.
The first step Beth took over the threshold, other than going into the garden to choose flowers for her mother, was the most desperately important step she’d ever taken in her life. Her breathing became far too fast, too loud, too rasping, but she forced her feet to move and when she was standing outside on the road she grasped Dottie’s hand. Head down, she walked past Willie and Sylvia’s, past the gate to the church hall and as far as the lychgate, no distance at all, but to Beth it was a million miles. By the time she arrived there she was trembling from head to toe, her grip on Dottie’s hand was fierce and somehow she couldn’t let go.
Beth didn’t appear to be setting off back, so Dottie asked, ‘Shall I walk you back again, love?’
Beth nodded. ‘Thank you, thank you very much. I thought I could do it on my own but I can’t. On Monday I might go in the church if I feel well enough. Would you come in with me?’
‘Well, now, that’ll be a turn-up for the book, but yes, I certainly will, only because you want me to, though. Right?’
Beth leapt back over the Rectory threshold, overwhelmed with relief to be safe home again.
God! thought Dottie. What damn well happened to that child in Africa? Something too terrible for her to tell. Yet Alex was going to school as though nothing had happened. Maybe making life normal was his way of dealing with whatever it was.
At home in her old cottage that crouched squat and neglected at the very bottom of Shepherd’s Hill, Dottie had to laugh to herself at the idea of her going into church. ‘What are things coming to?’ she said out loud. ‘Dottie Foskett, loose woman extraordinaire, going to church. Oh, my. Oh, my.’
Chapter 7
Andy strolled into the Store two days later carrying a small parcel contained inside a freezer-bag. ‘Jimbo in?’ he called out cheerfully to Tom.
‘In the back with a rep and not to be disturbed, but he won’t be long.’
Andy acknowledged the information with a thumbs-up, and began to roam the Store, picking up this and putting down that after a thorough inspection. He bent down to sniff the cold meats as though suspecting they might walk off the counter so full of maggots were they. Tom, beginning to resent this assiduous inspection, unlocked himself from his ‘cage’ and went to have a word. As an ex-policeman he had a
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