agreed Charles.
Violet went on to tell him of Bertha's strange ways of moving objects of value from all over the house into her own bedroom.
'She's always been excessively possessive,' Violet told him. 'She would never lend Ada or me any of her things, not even a belt or a pair of gloves for some particular occasion.'
'And did she borrow yours?'
'Oh, frequently! We rather treated it as a joke when we were girls. "Go and look in Bertha's room", we used to say to each other, if we missed a brooch or some other trifle.'
Charles nodded. 'It sounds as though it has simply grown more obsessive as the years have passed,' he said. 'Do you think she has any inkling of what she is doing?'
'I can't say. Somehow I think she does know that she is at fault, but she is so clever at evading the issue that I simply can't tell. It is as if she shuts her mind to the consequences of her actions. And I'm quite sure this isn't just forgetfulness, as it would be in dear Ada's case. Bertha is a much more ruthless person, I'm afraid, as I know to my own cost after all these years.'
They sat in silence for a time. Bumblebees tumbled about in the border nearby. A thrush stood, still and statuesque, at the edge of the lawn, before running purposefully to a spot which he jabbed energetically with his beak. There was a distant cackle of laughter from the almshouses nearby, where two ancient neighbours, it seemed, were sharing a joke.
Charles sighed. 'Leave this to me, Violet. You have done all you can, and I can only suggest that you make sure that Bertha is accompanied wherever she goes, so that nothing is taken. Mrs Peters, I imagine, will see that nothing is said?'
'Mrs Peters is the soul of loyalty and discretion,' replied Violet. 'I trust her absolutely. If others have been robbed I only hope they will tell me , and not the police.'
'If you have heard nothing, then I should assume that nothing has happened.'
'But will you speak to her, Charles, or just wait to see if this is her only slip?'
Charles looked thoughtful. 'I rather think I shall have a word with her. It will follow up your own efforts, and also make her realize that her actions are being noted.'
'She'll certainly take more notice of you than she does of me,' said Violet, getting up from the seat.
They began to walk towards the gate. Violet stopped suddenly and faced the clergyman.
'Charles, I can't begin to thank you. You are a tower of strength, and I feel so very much better for talking to you.'
'I've done very little,' said Charles. 'You have done most of the work. Mine lies ahead.'
He watched her as she retraced her steps across the green. She looked old and frail, but the Lovelock back was as straight as ever, Charles noted with admiration.
***
It grew hotter and more humid as the month of July went on. The grass at Thrush Green became brittle and brown, and the gardens of the houses around it needed watering every evening. Hoses, sprinklers and watering cans went into action as soon as the sun began to sink behind Lulling Woods, but all householders awaited the grim warning from the council banning the use of the life-saving liquid for the crops and flowers.
'It's the same every year,' grumbled Percy Hodge to Albert in The Two Pheasants. 'We gets fair flooded out in February and March—water butts overflowing puddles up to your hocks, gumboots on day in and day out—and then comes three weeks dry, and we're told we've got a drought!'
'Gets in your chest, too,' said Albert, fingering an empty glass.
'What! The drought?'
'That's right. The dust like. Brings on me cough.' He essayed a short spell of somewhat unconvincing hacking.
'You best have another 'alf,' said Percy, not moving. His own glass was half full.
Seeing that there was no possibility of being treated to his drink, Albert shuffled to the bar to get a refill.
'Got two weddin's this Saturday,' he said on his return. 'What with the dust, and them old lime trees shedding their muck, not to mention
Violet went on to tell him of Bertha's strange ways of moving objects of value from all over the house into her own bedroom.
'She's always been excessively possessive,' Violet told him. 'She would never lend Ada or me any of her things, not even a belt or a pair of gloves for some particular occasion.'
'And did she borrow yours?'
'Oh, frequently! We rather treated it as a joke when we were girls. "Go and look in Bertha's room", we used to say to each other, if we missed a brooch or some other trifle.'
Charles nodded. 'It sounds as though it has simply grown more obsessive as the years have passed,' he said. 'Do you think she has any inkling of what she is doing?'
'I can't say. Somehow I think she does know that she is at fault, but she is so clever at evading the issue that I simply can't tell. It is as if she shuts her mind to the consequences of her actions. And I'm quite sure this isn't just forgetfulness, as it would be in dear Ada's case. Bertha is a much more ruthless person, I'm afraid, as I know to my own cost after all these years.'
They sat in silence for a time. Bumblebees tumbled about in the border nearby. A thrush stood, still and statuesque, at the edge of the lawn, before running purposefully to a spot which he jabbed energetically with his beak. There was a distant cackle of laughter from the almshouses nearby, where two ancient neighbours, it seemed, were sharing a joke.
Charles sighed. 'Leave this to me, Violet. You have done all you can, and I can only suggest that you make sure that Bertha is accompanied wherever she goes, so that nothing is taken. Mrs Peters, I imagine, will see that nothing is said?'
'Mrs Peters is the soul of loyalty and discretion,' replied Violet. 'I trust her absolutely. If others have been robbed I only hope they will tell me , and not the police.'
'If you have heard nothing, then I should assume that nothing has happened.'
'But will you speak to her, Charles, or just wait to see if this is her only slip?'
Charles looked thoughtful. 'I rather think I shall have a word with her. It will follow up your own efforts, and also make her realize that her actions are being noted.'
'She'll certainly take more notice of you than she does of me,' said Violet, getting up from the seat.
They began to walk towards the gate. Violet stopped suddenly and faced the clergyman.
'Charles, I can't begin to thank you. You are a tower of strength, and I feel so very much better for talking to you.'
'I've done very little,' said Charles. 'You have done most of the work. Mine lies ahead.'
He watched her as she retraced her steps across the green. She looked old and frail, but the Lovelock back was as straight as ever, Charles noted with admiration.
***
It grew hotter and more humid as the month of July went on. The grass at Thrush Green became brittle and brown, and the gardens of the houses around it needed watering every evening. Hoses, sprinklers and watering cans went into action as soon as the sun began to sink behind Lulling Woods, but all householders awaited the grim warning from the council banning the use of the life-saving liquid for the crops and flowers.
'It's the same every year,' grumbled Percy Hodge to Albert in The Two Pheasants. 'We gets fair flooded out in February and March—water butts overflowing puddles up to your hocks, gumboots on day in and day out—and then comes three weeks dry, and we're told we've got a drought!'
'Gets in your chest, too,' said Albert, fingering an empty glass.
'What! The drought?'
'That's right. The dust like. Brings on me cough.' He essayed a short spell of somewhat unconvincing hacking.
'You best have another 'alf,' said Percy, not moving. His own glass was half full.
Seeing that there was no possibility of being treated to his drink, Albert shuffled to the bar to get a refill.
'Got two weddin's this Saturday,' he said on his return. 'What with the dust, and them old lime trees shedding their muck, not to mention
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