Whispers in the Village by Rebecca Shaw Page B

I’m certain. Playing a mouth organ and a hat down on the ground for your money. I wonder what he’s doing in here?’
    That casual remark was overheard and it was round the bar in a moment. Several people patted their pockets or checked their bags to make sure they were still in possession of their money. A beggar, was he? At the rectory? Come on. It must have been someone else begging in the market, not him. Anna wouldn’t have a beggar living with her, well, not living with her in that sense, but living in the same house. What would Peter say? What indeed. All Caroline’s lovely things in there, too.
    Ron and Sheila came in then, Sheila armed with her clipboard, hoping to get some more names down on her lists. Just the right night for it, Sheila had said, and had dragged Ron out on the pretext that a real lady didn’t enter a bar unaccompanied, even in these enlightened times. They both went to order their drinks and found themselves innocently standing beside the subject of everyone’s conversation.
    Paddy put down his empty glass and said, ‘Good evening. More delightful inhabitants of Turnham Malpas, I assume?’ He gave the impression of being about to tug his forelock, which impressed Sheila enormously.
    She laughed as she said, ‘I don’t know about that, but I am here on a mission. Collecting names for the events the W.I. have organized for raising funds for Africa. Can I put you down? But maybe you’re a visitor and not here for long?’
    Raising funds? Ah! ‘Well, I’ll be glad to do what I can. I’m here for quite a while.’
    So together he and Sheila discussed the various options and he plumped for the midnight skinny-dipping. No, he wouldn’t do the race afternoon, no he didn’t think so, not gambling, he was a bit strict about that. Sheila, greatly impressed by his moral stance, hurriedly put him down for the swim.
    ‘I may not get many sponsors not knowing many people, but I will make a donation if I don’t.’
    ‘Well, that’s very kind. I’m going round asking people now.’ She surveyed the bar; there wasn’t an empty seat and plenty were having to stand by the vast inglenook fireplace, fortunately not lit, otherwise they’d have been burned to a crisp. ‘My word, I’ve chosen a good night. Here’s your sponsorship form. Just put your name and address here for me.’ She waited while he filled it out, then set off into the crowd, filled with zeal.
    By the time she’d returned to Ron’s side, Sheila was almost delirious with excitement. ‘Look! Just look at these lists. We’re going to do so well, we are. I’ll have to print out more sponsorship forms and new sheets. Unbelievable. People are so supportive, aren’t they?’
    She included Paddy in her glance at Ron, and Paddy nodded soulfully. ‘If you’re down it’s amazing how kind people can be.’
    Sheila nudged Ron and pointed tactfully at Paddy’s empty glass. Ron dutifully rose to the occasion. ‘Same again, Paddy?’
    ‘How very thoughtful you are. Very thoughtful. I knew you were nice people the moment I saw you walk through the door.’ Conveniently forgetting he was facing the other way when they’d come in.
    When Sheila got home she sat down to enjoy counting the names on her lists, and Ron went to make her a cup of tea.
    ‘Ron!’ Sheila shouted. ‘You’ll never guess – that Paddy Cleary is living at the rectory. I’d no idea, I just didn’t notice what he’d written down, I was so excited. That can’t be right, can it?’
    ‘Rent-free, I’ve no doubt, judging by his inability to pay for his own drink. You do realize I bought him three pints tonight?’
    ‘Really, and didn’t he offer to buy you one?’
    Ron shook his head. ‘He did not. Too fly by half is that one.’
    ‘That’s disgusting. We’ll avoid him in future.’
    But in the bar there was no avoiding Paddy. Somehow, by what means they never quite knew, just before Dicky called time, Paddy had got a line of five customers going