Died and Gone to Devon by TP Fielden

Author:TP Fielden
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2019-12-17T16:00:00+00:00

Seventeen

Betty was standing at the back of the crowd craning her neck – Temple Regis could get a bit star-struck when someone as famous as Fanny Cradock visited town and the Press, well, they could just stand in the queue along with everyone else.

‘And I had my hair done specially,’ she complained to Terry, who was waiting his moment to lunge forward in typical press-cameraman style. ‘Plus I paid a fortune for these shoes in Clark’s. You didn’t even notice!’

‘I wondered what was different,’ said Terry, turning to look at her for the first time. ‘It looks like you had your hair done on a hillside. Tilt your head to the left a bit, girl – go on, that’ll straighten it up.’

‘That’s the last time I have a perm! I’m going to let it go natural from now on – fifteen-and-six, it cost!’

The crowd was getting restless. Granted that Suds & Duds was the first launderette ever to open its doors in town, and it was always a treat to see someone special come and cut a ribbon – but these were busy people, what with the holiday season coming on, and quite a few of them were getting restless.

‘Fifteen minutes,’ grumbled one woman to another.

‘And the rest! She’s always late, I heard,’ replied her companion. ‘A prima donna, she is.’

Betty overheard this. She didn’t know much about Mrs Cradock because she never watched TV, but Fanny was one of the most famous people in the land so the wait was to be expected. As she stood there she realised her shoes were too tight – it should have been the next half size up, like the shop assistant said.

Time ticked by, and finally a craggy-faced diva made her entrance into Fore Street, waving like Queen Victoria from the back of an open-top Daimler. Sam Brough, weighed down by his mayoral chain and with a tendency to self-abasement in the presence of celebrity, opened the car door and bowed as if Mrs Cradock were, indeed, the sovereign.

‘Gin and Dubonnet waiting inside, madam,’ whispered His Worship.

‘Will this take long?’ answered the cook in a tired drawl. Then, only as an afterthought, she turned to face the crowd and acknowledge their cheers with a curt wave.

‘Come in, come in! May I introduce Dudley Fensome, the proprietor? We’re so proud to have a launderette at last – there was quite some resistance from the die-hard brigade.’

‘I can quite see why,’ said Mrs C, looking with disdain around the delightfully painted shop and its shining machines. ‘In my generation one didn’t talk about laundry, it just arrived – open your drawer and it’s there. Now, people want to make a song and dance about it, have parties and knees-ups and who knows what. What next? A communal lavatory for us all to meet and chat?’

Following Terry’s lead, Betty got herself inside the shop with her notebook at the ready, but so far there was little to report. As she turned away from the star

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