Lois Meade 03: Weeping on Wednesday (1987) by Ann Purser

Author:Ann Purser
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 1987-01-17T23:00:00+00:00

Twenty-Five

“I don’t see any point in living in a village if you don’t join in things,” Gran said. A taste of spring had warmed up the village for a day or two, and Lois and Gran were strolling round the garden, looking at bulbs coming up and a drift of snowdrops under the silver birch.

“The doctor planted that tree. He told me. Very proud of it, he was,” Lois said.

“I expect he was sad to leave this place.” Gran spoke quietly, remembering the tragic circumstances. “Still, I bet he was pleased you lot were moving in. It’s a good family house.”

Lois nodded. “Funny, isn’t it though, how soon Derek has put his stamp on this garden,” she said. “It always used to be neat and tidy, o’course. Mrs Rix was like that. A place for everything and everything in its place. But there was never much in the garden, if you know what I mean. Now Derek’s got loads of veg and fruit, and rows of chrysanths for us to cut in autumn, and he’s got the greenhouse going again. It’s Derek’s garden now, isn’t it.”

Gran agreed. “He’s put his roots down here,” she said, and then laughed her hearty laugh.

“Very witty,” said Lois.

“I try,” said Gran. “Anyway, Lois, as I was saying” – Lois knew what was coming, and sighed – “Maybe you should come and join the Women’s Institute with me. I’m going along tonight. They’re a new branch, and trying to recruit members. Especially young ones…”

“No thanks!” said Lois. “I’ve got a few years yet before it comes to that!”

“Just showing your ignorance,” said Gran, unmoved. “They’ve got several young women, younger than you, actually. It’s not what it used to be.”

“Jam and Jerusalem, that’s all I know,” said Lois. “But anyway, I don’t want to put you off. Sounds just up your street.”

They were outside the kitchen door now, and Lois said she would nip down to the shop for a couple of things. “I might have a wander round,” she added, “see what’s happening. They’re putting a new mobile classroom in the school…might take a look.”

Lois was interested in the village school. She’d been a parent governor of the kids school in Tresham when they lived there, and enjoyed the contact with little ones. Sometimes she looked wistfully at five-year-olds going past the gate in their scarlet and grey uniforms. But Derek soon put a stop to any thoughts in that direction.

She would walk past and have a look, maybe have a chat to whoever was in the playground. Must be break time about now. She walked briskly down the street, collected a few purchases and items of gossip from the shop – nothing useful about the Abrahams – and strolled more slowly round to Farnden school. It was playtime, as she’d hoped, and the long-serving headmistress was in the playground, cup of coffee in hand, doing duty. She was rare among head teachers in wanting to watch the children at play as well as in the classroom.

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