The Villagers
“An awesome read that reminded me of the late great Maeve Binchy”
“Cosy mystery at its finest”
“Certainly looking forward to the rest of the series... a delightful read”
The Villagers: book excerpt
Chapter One – Olive and Geoff
It was the summer of 1950 when Olive and Geoff moved to the village.
Neither of them could imagine a more picturesque and peaceful location in which to bring up their three young children, a haven of tranquility and calm, a place in which to nurture their family and grow old gracefully together. Surrounded by beautiful Shropshire countryside, with rolling hills on all directions, a better location would have been impossible to find. Parents had few worries about passing traffic in those quiet lanes and allowed their off-spring to play freely on the footpaths and fields nearby. The few vehicles that did pass through the village did so slowly and cautiously, their drivers as much on the lookout for roaming foxes crossing their pathways as children picking berries in the hedgerows. The houses were solid and well-made, the gardens obviously tended with loving care. Each frontage had a little latched gate and each doorway was surrounded by a cascade of fragrant roses. Retired folk sat chatting on the benches of the village green, tractors hummed busily in the surrounding fields and sparkling white linens blew merrily in the wind on the washing-lines of every household.
The other people in the village seemed to be decent, friendly and respectable. Every Sunday as the church bell tolled, a steady stream of parishioners made their way up the long and winding pathway that led to the grand Norman church at the end of the thoroughfare. Ancient tombstones lined the grass verges on all sides, some erect as steel, some tipping sideways with age and decay. These were the markers of many generations of villagers, some of them spanning half a millennium. To one side there stood a few grand tombs, obviously the final resting places of the more wealthy villagers from days gone by, but most of the markers were simple burial places inscribed with little more than names and dates. Despite the lapse of time, each and every one of them bore a small posy of flowers at its base, signifying that the long dead resident was very much alive in the heart of his or her descendants. This was a place where few people left and new residents only came after childless generations had passed away, leaving empty properties to be sold by the state. Olive knew that her friends would do anything to move to this village, but fate had smiled down on her, and her only. This was a golden opportunity.
Day to day life was comparable to that of any small community. The men of the village went off to work every morning, by bicycle, motorbike, bus and car, returning at dusk to a smiling wife and happy children. Their cottages were filled with the smells of freshly baked pies and homemade bread, with beautiful wild flowers adorning scrubbed kitchen tables and welcoming fires in the grates. To any onlooker passing through, the village was a hub of contentment and serenity, a place that city-dwellers could only dream of and a constant attraction for families seeking a place in which to enjoy a picnic in peaceful solitude.
Olive and Geoff's cottage was perfect. It looked out on to the rest of the properties from a prime location at the end of a quiet cul-de-sac and needed very little to be done before the family could move in their possessions. There were two good-sized bedrooms and a little box-room which would be ideal for baby Godfrey. The two girls would share and Geoff had spent the whole weekend, before the move, painting the walls an inviting shade of sunshine yellow to make it look bright and airy. The large sitting room had an open fireplace and plush sage green carpet, whilst the kitchen-diner was large enough for the family to sit comfortably over their evening meals. Geoff had already started planning all the things he was going to make in his new garage, there was even room for a wood-turning lathe which would be ideal for making some unique toys for the children. Olive had polished, scrubbed and buffed the cottage from top to bottom and, thanks to the generosity of her mother, brilliant white net curtains now hung from every window. She planned to grow herbs and a few vegetables in the rear garden, maybe even buy a few ducks or chickens, it just seemed the right thing to do in the countryside. Olive was more than content. This was going to be a wonderful place to live.
As Geoff brought in the last box of crockery from his little Austin car, Olive simultaneously busied herself with unpacking, making a pot of tea and rocking the baby in his pram. Today was the beginning of a long and happy life in the country, she could feel it in her bones. The two girls, Eileen and Barbara were already out exploring the village on their bicycles and at the ages of ten and eight respectively they were just as excited as their parents at the prospect of making new friends and putting down firm roots. Baby Godfrey was only a few months old but gurgled happily as Olive pushed him outside into the bright sunlight. Even he seemed delighted to be in the village,
That evening, as they sat down to tea, the little family raised their teacups in celebration of their new home. Olive and Geoff were quick to quiz their daughters on how they felt about the move, but any fears they might have had were ungrounded and both girls seemed to approve of their new home wholeheartedly. Apparently Eileen had already made a new friend and Barbara, a feisty bad-tempered child, had found an enemy in the delicate blonde girl two doors down. There would be plenty of scrapes and arguments with that one, mused Olive, Barbara really should have been born a boy. Eileen would cause little trouble, of that her mother had no doubt, but the other one would need watching like a hawk as mischief always followed her around like a hungry stray dog. Barbara had even argued with her elder sister over which bed she wanted to sleep in and had created such a fuss that eventually Geoff had rearranged the beds so that both of his daughters would be lying facing the window. Barbara was such a handful and her mother secretly longed for the summer holidays to end so that the teachers could take dual responsibility for disciplining her, but for now she would be allowed to run wild in the fields every day in the hope that by teatime her energy would be completely used up.
Later that night, as they lay in bed between fresh cotton sheets, Olive and Geoff reflected on the kindness of their neighbours. Throughout the day, a steady stream of faces had appeared at the kitchen window, all of them bearing gifts and none of them outstaying their welcome. There had been freshly baked bread from a rather red-faced lady in a flowered apron, a dozen fresh eggs from the young man next door, pots of jam and chutney from the vicar's wife and a large jug of warm milk, fresh from the cowshed, courtesy of the local farmer. Olive couldn't remember all of their names but vowed to get to know them and therefore become an integral part of village life.
The first few years of their married lives had been spent living in a rent-free two-bedroomed farm cottage owned by Geoff's parents, which had helped them to save enough money to put down the deposit on their own home, something for which the couple would be eternally grateful. Geoff had enjoyed being close to his family but as it became more and more apparent that he no longer wanted to follow in his father's footsteps and instead veered his mind towards the exciting world of invention and engineering, a break from the close-knit smallholding seemed inevitable.
“Who was the lady with the rosy cheeks and pink lipstick?” asked Geoff, turning to face Olive who was moisturising her face in the vanity mirror, “She makes a grand crusty loaf.”
“I think she lives next door but one. She was very friendly”, replied Olive, “Isn't it lovely when people rally round to make sure you've got something on the table for your first night's tea?”
“It certainly is, my dear.”
“Geoff, are you happy we've moved?” Olive asked cautiously, glancing at her husband's reflection behind her, “I mean, away from your family?”
“Don't ask daft questions”, tutted Geoff, “Now, get in to bed, and start dreaming about all those hours of gossiping and cups of tea you've got to get through as you come to know everyone.”
Olive put down the pot of cream and sauntered over to her side of the bed. She climbed in and sighed.
Geoff was right, as usual, and within minutes the couple had drifted off to sleep.
There would be plenty of time for reflection on their move later.
There was a market town about five or six miles away from their new location and Olive had seen the ladies of the village boarding the local bus to take them shopping on Thursdays and Saturdays. That would be an ideal way of getting to know her fellow inhabitants and perhaps, after filling her basket with local produce, she could sit with them over a pot of tea before boarding the bus back home. Olive had it all planned out, and looked forward to the day when she would be familiar with the cheerful faces living around her. She daydreamed of village fetes, coffee mornings and flower-arranging at the local church. Some of the ladies in the village had already perked Olive's interest, and she was sure that friends would be made by the dozen.
Olive and Geoff's first few weeks in the village were taken up with emptying boxes, settling the two girls in to their new school and finding out all the necessary information required to live in the countryside, such as delivery days for the greengrocer and bread van, church service times and the schedule of the local bus services to town. Of course Geoff also had his job at the foundry, where he worked as a patternmaker, so Olive dashed here and there making their new home a place to relax in. Relatives had been to visit in abundance, everyone wanting to know how life was treating them in the village, and Olive's two brothers had stayed for a few days to help paint doors and put up shelves. During that time the little cottage had been full of laughter, singing and continued bustle as the two men busied themselves from morning till night. They would do anything for Olive, their most amenable sister, and both had a lot of time for their brother-in-law too. As far as they were concerned, a few days off work spent helping Olive and Geoff to fix up their new home was well worth it just to see the smiles on their faces. Her three sisters had also paid a visit. Phoebe the eldest had been helpful and kind, bringing sweets for the children and taking care of baby Godfrey for a few hours so that Olive could continue to organise her new home. Next had come Dolly, the joker of the family, providing respite from her sister's busy day as she poured tea and told tales of the friends that Olive had left behind. The two sisters had laughed uncontrollably on many occasion and vowed to make sure that the distance in miles that now lay between them would do nothing to stop them from enjoying each other's company on a regular basis.
Lastly, Olive's youngest sister Minnie had alighted from the small green bus, resplendent in her new straw hat and impractical three inch heels. Olive laughed inwardly as Minnie manoeuvred her way along the dusty path, all the while trying desperately to look chic. Of all her sisters, Minnie was the most difficult to get along with and caused constant friction with her siblings, but even the three-hour long visit to her sister's new home, eyeing up every nook and looking for fault in every cranny, could do nothing to dampen Olive's high spirits. As she walked her sister to the bus-stop Olive took a deep breath and said thanks. Life in the village had calmed her beyond belief.
The hustle and bustle of settling in had left very little time to get acquainted with the neighbours but, slowly and surely, as the weeks passed, and as opportunity presented itself, Olive came to know the residents of the village.
Unfortunately she also found out their secrets.
Of course every family has secrets, but as the days, weeks and years passed by, Olive would gradually come to know every skeleton in every closet. Sometimes she dearly wished that things had remained hidden, that the occupants of the village had not openly revealed to her their sins and obsessions. Some things were best kept behind closed doors. It wasn't as if Olive actively sought to help or counsel the villagers around her, in fact she dearly wished that she could have continued her life of ignorance as far as their sordid conspiracies were concerned. It seemed that everyone knew and accepted the terrible deeds going on around them, a secret society where all were aware but nobody told. The village was shrouded in guilt, loathing and desire.
As any wife would do, as each secret revealed itself, Olive shared her newfound knowledge with her husband. Geoff merely laughed. Poor Olive must be bored out here in the country, he thought, too much fresh air is affecting her imagination. Of course when his dear wife started to lose sleep Geoff worried a little but put it down to the change in environment or the time of the month, sometimes he even blamed it on the full moon. Occasionally he would hear Olive put on her dressing-gown and creep downstairs to make a cup of tea, but Geoff had a hard day at work ahead and the temptation of a warm bed and soft pillow were enough to ease him back into slumber. At other times he would awake to hear his wife's shallow breathing and knew that she was laying still, eyes fixed on the ceiling, trying not to give any clues that she had been without sleep for hours. Naturally Geoff cared, but he knew full well how people's minds could play tricks on them. Geoff was certain that Olive would eventually settle down to her new life and stop fretting over the things she thought she'd witnessed. After all, he pondered, some of the things she had told him were almost impossible to believe, it was almost as if Olive were reliving some kind of nightmare from her childhood. It would pass, and soon she would come to her senses, he thought.
But there lay the problem. You see, the things that Olive saw and heard were all too real.
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