Free A Village Dilemna (Turnham Malpas 09) by Rebecca Shaw Page A

haven’t forgotten your little ways, have I?’ He heaved the bags from the counter, Georgie opened the door and the two of them went off down Stocks Row.
    At that moment Dicky was outside at the front of the pub watering the window boxes with the hosepipe. He bent down to test the compost in the tubs and as he straightened up he caught sight of Georgie’s bright-orange top. He made to wave but saw that Bryn was with her. They were both absorbed in conversation and hadn’t noticed him. Damn him. The two of them had a togetherness he didn’t like. A kind of companionableness which even four years of separation hadn’t dented. Dicky snapped off the hosepipe and began winding it up on to his forearm. He disconnected it from the tap on the wall and carried it into the bar, leaving the door propped open, thinking Georgie and Bryn would follow.
    He only had to see Bryn and the few doubts he had about Georgie’s love surged to the front of his consciousness. She’d promised to ask Bryn for a divorce but he knew full well she hadn’t. Dicky went to put the hosepipe away by the back door and found himself an unwitting eavesdropper. The two of them were standing just outside the back entrance talking.
‘It’s no good, Bryn, I don’t object to doing business with you but as for anything else, well, it’s Dicky you see, we want to marry.’
    He heard Bryn gasp. ‘So it’s true, then. What are you thinking of, Georgie? For heaven’s sake. The man is a twat. A runt. He’s got no business acumen, nothing. And what about my share of the business? Eh? What about that? Our partnership has never been dissolved and I know he couldn’t buy me out in a month of Sundays. Come to your senses, woman.’
    ‘Don’t you “woman” me. The money is no problem, he has the promise of whatever’s needed for buying into the partnership and that’s what I want him to do. Buy you out! Not that you deserve it considering how much money you took with you when you went off with that tart. You can try your best, Bryn, but I am marrying Dicky and I want a divorce now , or the lunch business is off.’
    Dicky considered coughing in order to let them know he was there but the chance to hear the outcome of this conversation was not to be missed and he stayed where he was.
    Bryn began laughing, that head-thrown-back, loud, mocking laugh he’d used before. When he calmed down he said, ‘You wouldn’t do that to me. Not to me! We mean too much to each other.’
    ‘Now I know where you are I shall instruct my solicitor. I’ve plenty of evidence. I want a divorce immediately. Then Dicky and I can marry. He’ll move in here and Bel will go to her house, which she longs to get back to. I can’t wait to get my life straight. OK?’
‘I don’t want a divorce.’
    ‘Well, you’re getting one.’
    ‘So where’s he getting the money from to buy my share?’
    Quickly Dicky dropped the hosepipe on the stone floor, swore loudly, picked it up and meandered through the door as though he’d just that moment arrived. He’d always known he was cut out to be an actor. He smiled at Georgie and said, ‘Alan’s made the coffee, when you’re ready’ and brushed past Bryn as though he didn’t exist, hung the hosepipe on the bracket ready for another time and calmly went back into the bar. So she did want him. She did. He punched the air, triumphant. A triumph tinged with a bitter hatred of Bryn.
    But Bryn wasn’t aware of the rage burning in Dicky and after he’d had an enjoyable chat with Alan and a quiet word with Georgie he set off back to Neville’s to use his computer for writing some business letters. On the way he noticed the church door was open so he decided to go in and have a look around to value its potential for a conducted tour. As he went up the church path he felt goosepimples coming up on his skin and didn’t look up at the church tower. He must have been mad at the time, absolutely mad. He went in and began walking about. There