Free The Village by Stan Mason

rubbing my hand over the boy’s hair as a token of affection.
    â€˜I saw a friend of yours in the church today.’
    â€˜He’s not my friend.’
    â€˜We went to the church to pray for the soul of my husband,’ she told us.
    I was about to say that the boy had told me he was forty-two years of age but I bit my lip to stop myself saying it. This was not the time for questions. It would also have put Townsend on his guard.
    â€˜Come inside!’ she welcome, turning so that we could follow her.
    We entered and went into the tiny lounge. All the houses were identical in shape and size with the same number of rooms... and even the same furniture. We sat down as Bridget went into the kitchen to make some tea while the boy sat down holding a book wearing a sullen expression on his face.
    â€˜What are you reading?’ I asked with interest.
    The boy looked up at me tiredly. ‘Oliver Twist by Charles Dickens,’ he stated firmly.
    â€˜It’s a good book. I saw the film of it some years ago,’ I advanced smiling at him.
    â€˜What’s a film?’ he asked bluntly, not knowing what I was talking about.
    â€˜It’s a...’ I notice that Townsend was shaking his head fiercely and stopped in my tracks. He did not want me to explained anything that happened in the world beyond the year 1900. It would affect the minds of the people in the village and could never be redressed. ‘No... I think Oliver Twist is a very good book,’ I said recovering quickly as the boy returned his attention to the text.
    Very shortly Bridget returned with a tray loaded with a teapot, teacups, a bowl of milk and of sugar, and some scones.
    â€˜You’re a stranger,’ she stated. ‘I don’t know why they brought you here to me.’ The comment certainly put me in my place.
    â€™I don’t know myself,’ I responded weakly. I found myself staring directly into the eyes, not listening to anything further she had to say. It must have been evident to any observer that I was completely besotted by the woman. However, despite my fascination for her and the chemistry that clearly existed between us, she was damaged goods having been married before and having a young child. Nothing would ever change that. There was a lot of baggage in two. If I became involved with her, the boy would have to come into the equation as well. There was no alternative. Yet it suited my purpose well into deluding the villagers that I had become a fully-fledged member of their community. At the same time I had to admit that I was beginning to enjoy the aura which appeared to enshroud the village ensuring a peaceful atmosphere to exist... well away from all the hustle and bustle of the greedy, ambitious, hostile world that concentrated its attention on power and money, causing poverty for the millions and riches for the few. None of that was evident in Numbwinton.
    Townsend stared at Bridget and took up the conversation after pondering her comment.
    â€˜Samuel’s a newcomer in our community. I brought him along in the hope that you might be able to get on together. It’s not right that you should have to live alone for the rest of your life.’
    I found his remark insulting to the woman. Why shouldn’t she have the choice to remain a widow bringing up her son to live with her if she wanted her independence? It seemed incredible that the only reason he wanted me to be there was to make up the population so that it remained at eleven hundred.
    â€˜I’m sorry to come to you in your hour of grief,’ I apologised firmly standing up feeling sorry for the woman. ‘If you want me to leave I shall do so. I don’t wish to intrude unnecessarily into your life.’
    â€˜Sit down!’ snapped the Chairman sharply. ‘You’re here under my authorisation. Say nothing... do nothing... unless you’re asked.’
    I was taken aback by his sudden change of attitude and