Read Online The Village by Stan Mason - Free Book Online Page B

to note that it was the Holy Bible.
    â€˜Read the eleventh commandment,’ he told me.
    â€˜But there’ only ten.’ I corrected.
    â€˜Look again!’ he persisted before going back to his work.
    â€˜I suppose you’re going to quote a passage from Mark, Luke or John,’ I uttered.
    .’No,’ he expounded, ‘but I don’t suggest you read from the book of Exodus!’ He burst out laughing at his little joke.
    It was the first time I had seen anyone smile or laugh in the village. There was indeed some hope for them yet! I realised that I was digging a deep hole for myself in which I might be buried. My intention to stay in the village was more of a whim, hardly carved in stone, yet I was intrigued to meet the widow scheduled for me. With the tightening of security in the village, it might never be possible for me to leave. I was a prisoner of my own resort. Almost certainly I would be watched every hour of the day so that the authorities within the village would be sure I never failed to toe the line or reveal any secrets it harboured... if only I knew of one!
    ***
    At three o’clock in the afternoon, Townsend turned up at the police station to collect me. My heart was in my mouth with questions flooding my mind. What was she like? Was she pretty... slim... pleasant? How old was she? Would she like me?
    â€˜We’re going to Bridget McBain’s house,’ he told me flatly. ‘I can confirm that she’s a widow and has one son.’
    â€˜How old is the boy?’ I asked innocuously.
    â€˜You’ll find out when we get there,’ he responded briefly.
    We walked together in silence along one of the paths until coming to the residential part of the village. In due course we arrived at the McBain house and I held my breath as we waited on tenterhooks for the next development. Townsend knocked on the door and a young woman answered. I reckoned that she was in her mid-twenties but the boy by her side was only about eleven years old. He looked very similar to the lad I had found sobbing in the church who told me that he was forty-two.
    Bridget McBain was an exceptionally attractive woman. She was slender with a beautiful face, an excellent complexion, blonde hair, a retrousse nose and she had the body of a high-class model. I couldn’t believe that any husband would prefer to die by not taking his tablets as against living with this angel. I revised my position in an instant, This was the kind of woman I could fall in love with quite easily. I was amazed that was being introduce to her the day after her husband had died. It appeared that grieving was not one of the village’s strong points. After all, in most cases, a widow’s grief would last for a year or maybe more at the death of her husband. Not so in Numbwinton! Even though it was fringed on the edge of Victorian life, mating was considered to be far more important as was the population count of the people in the village.
    â€˜This is Samuel Ross,’ said Townsend introducing me to the woman. ‘He knows of your recent loss.’
    She smiled at me and I felt myself go weak at the knees. She really was extremely beautiful!
    â€˜Happy to meet you, Samuel, she cooed. There was a lilt in her voice which made every sound seem fabulous to the ear.
    â€˜You too,’ I managed to say without being able to take my eyes away from her face. For me it was love at first sight, I had enjoyed the company of many young women in the past, both before and during my army days, but I had never experienced such an uplifting wonderful feeling that surged through my veins at this precise moment. It may have been lust, it may have been love, but it was all the same to me. ‘You look lovely,’ I went on before I became speechless.
    She smiled at me again and it appeared that the chemistry between us was right. I turned my attention to the boy.
    â€˜How are you, young fella,’ I went on,