Read Online The Village Show (Tales from Turnham Malpas) by Rebecca Shaw - Free Book Online
Authors: Rebecca Shaw
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hardened ruts and ridges of the road surface. As they turned into the drive gates the van slewed across the road and almost slid into the stone pillars.
‘Mind out, Barry! Watch it!’
‘OK. OK. Keep yer hair on!’
Barry parked the van close to the estate tractors and the two motor mowers. Across the yard Pat saw Grandad’s light was still on. She could pick out the pattern on his curtains. My, they were lovely. They were Michelle’s choice, she had a good eye for colour she had. She saw Dean’s light go off. Time she was in bed too.
‘Thanks for the lift, Barry. How d’yer open this door?’
‘Yer can’t from the inside. There’s something the matter with the lock.’
‘Is that your idea of a joke?’
‘Certainly not. Try it for yerself.’
She did and it wouldn’t open.
‘There’s a price to pay. Give me a kiss and then I’ll open it.’
‘I should cocoa. I’m out of practice. Seven years since my Doug died, and I ’aven’t kissed a man since. Not that I kissed him all that much when he was here. He wasn’t the kissing kind.’
‘I am. There’s nothing like kissing a good woman, specially one who’s nicely rounded like you. I prefer something to get hold of. Don’t fancy stick-insect women. Come on, let’s have a go.’
The idea was more tempting than he would ever know. Inside her, there welled up feelings she’d been ignoring for years. The touch of someone who appreciated her, her as she was, simply her. Pat. Pat Stubbs that was. ‘You are daft. Go on then. Just a little peck and then I’m off in.’
‘I’ve got you in my clutches and besides, I’ve also got yer bike. There’s no escape, Pat Duckett. Come ’ere.’
Her handbag was in the way, and Jimbo’s file dug relentlessly into her thigh. It must have dug into Barry’s too because he thrust it impatiently onto the floor amongst the oily rags and toffee papers and the sawdusty bits around herfeet. She opened her mouth to protest but he closed his lips on her open mouth and kissed her like she’d never been kissed before. She didn’t respond, didn’t eagerly give back what he was giving her, but she liked it. Oh yes, she liked it. She couldn’t release her feelings but they were there, they had surfaced. A few more tries and she might give as good as she got. His hands began wandering …
‘That’ll do, Barry Jones. You’ve had yer kiss now let me out.’
As she waited for him to lift her bike out, she looked at the house and thought she saw Dean’s curtain flick back into place.
‘Good night, Pat. By jove, we could be good together, I can feel it. I’ll be round for coffee tomorrow morning. See yer.’
Chapter 5
Barry turned up for coffee the morning after the Show committee meeting, just as he’d promised. Pat hadn’t believed he would but she’d made sure when she got back from school that her hair was brushed – she was growing out her frizzled perm so it was difficult to make it look good, but she did her best. She’d changed from her school trousers and jumper and was wearing a skirt and sweater she’d spent a fortune on in M & S. It wasn’t really meant to be for every day, but just in case he meant what he said she’d put it on. There was a pile of ironing to do so that seemed to be the easiest rather than him finding her sweating over cleaning the windows or something.
She snapped the board open, banged the iron on it and plugged it in. Now she’d two men to iron shirts for, the weekly ironing seemed to take an age. Barry didn’t seem to wear shirts – well, not proper shirts, just T-shirts and things under thick sweaters. She thought about his abundant black hair, nearly like an Arab’s, and those laughing brown eyes. Doug had been gloomy, Barry was jolly. Barry oozed sex; Doug had oozed sweat. When she thought about it, in her darker moments she’d often wondered why on earth she’dmarried him in the first place. Liked the idea of a wedding day, she supposed. The excitement
‘Mind out, Barry! Watch it!’
‘OK. OK. Keep yer hair on!’
Barry parked the van close to the estate tractors and the two motor mowers. Across the yard Pat saw Grandad’s light was still on. She could pick out the pattern on his curtains. My, they were lovely. They were Michelle’s choice, she had a good eye for colour she had. She saw Dean’s light go off. Time she was in bed too.
‘Thanks for the lift, Barry. How d’yer open this door?’
‘Yer can’t from the inside. There’s something the matter with the lock.’
‘Is that your idea of a joke?’
‘Certainly not. Try it for yerself.’
She did and it wouldn’t open.
‘There’s a price to pay. Give me a kiss and then I’ll open it.’
‘I should cocoa. I’m out of practice. Seven years since my Doug died, and I ’aven’t kissed a man since. Not that I kissed him all that much when he was here. He wasn’t the kissing kind.’
‘I am. There’s nothing like kissing a good woman, specially one who’s nicely rounded like you. I prefer something to get hold of. Don’t fancy stick-insect women. Come on, let’s have a go.’
The idea was more tempting than he would ever know. Inside her, there welled up feelings she’d been ignoring for years. The touch of someone who appreciated her, her as she was, simply her. Pat. Pat Stubbs that was. ‘You are daft. Go on then. Just a little peck and then I’m off in.’
‘I’ve got you in my clutches and besides, I’ve also got yer bike. There’s no escape, Pat Duckett. Come ’ere.’
Her handbag was in the way, and Jimbo’s file dug relentlessly into her thigh. It must have dug into Barry’s too because he thrust it impatiently onto the floor amongst the oily rags and toffee papers and the sawdusty bits around herfeet. She opened her mouth to protest but he closed his lips on her open mouth and kissed her like she’d never been kissed before. She didn’t respond, didn’t eagerly give back what he was giving her, but she liked it. Oh yes, she liked it. She couldn’t release her feelings but they were there, they had surfaced. A few more tries and she might give as good as she got. His hands began wandering …
‘That’ll do, Barry Jones. You’ve had yer kiss now let me out.’
As she waited for him to lift her bike out, she looked at the house and thought she saw Dean’s curtain flick back into place.
‘Good night, Pat. By jove, we could be good together, I can feel it. I’ll be round for coffee tomorrow morning. See yer.’
Chapter 5
Barry turned up for coffee the morning after the Show committee meeting, just as he’d promised. Pat hadn’t believed he would but she’d made sure when she got back from school that her hair was brushed – she was growing out her frizzled perm so it was difficult to make it look good, but she did her best. She’d changed from her school trousers and jumper and was wearing a skirt and sweater she’d spent a fortune on in M & S. It wasn’t really meant to be for every day, but just in case he meant what he said she’d put it on. There was a pile of ironing to do so that seemed to be the easiest rather than him finding her sweating over cleaning the windows or something.
She snapped the board open, banged the iron on it and plugged it in. Now she’d two men to iron shirts for, the weekly ironing seemed to take an age. Barry didn’t seem to wear shirts – well, not proper shirts, just T-shirts and things under thick sweaters. She thought about his abundant black hair, nearly like an Arab’s, and those laughing brown eyes. Doug had been gloomy, Barry was jolly. Barry oozed sex; Doug had oozed sweat. When she thought about it, in her darker moments she’d often wondered why on earth she’dmarried him in the first place. Liked the idea of a wedding day, she supposed. The excitement
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