Episode 132: (Of course the answer is “yes”)
Previously in Leeford Village:
Frank encounters Philippa and Harry Smestow outside the post office. PC Carr informs Sergeant Miller that Gail Perkins’ release from prison is imminent. Jason receives good news from the publishers. Cody confronts Frank about the ambiguous census question. Jeremy Roberts calls an extraordinary meeting of the parish council, at which Frank Watson resigns. Zack misunderstands Clare’s friendship with Richard.
~
Sergeant Miller looks down the list of charges against Carlos supplied to him by Interpol.
‘Crikey, Carlos. It seems you have been quite the Lothario, haven’t you?’
Earlier, the sergeant and PC Carr had stood outside the flat Carlos has been renting, deciding whether to knock (the sergeant’s preference) or to kick the door down and run into the flat, commando-style (PC Carr’s preference, though the sergeant doubted whether he could carry it off). In the event, neither course of action was resorted to as Carlos calmly walked out of the flat opposite, carrying a jug of milk. The arrest was routine and Carlos is now sitting in the interview room at Leeford Police Station, looking at the floor and saying nothing.
‘It says here that you have married at least three women throughout South America, and that none of those marriages took place while you were a single man. In order words, you are a serial…’
‘..bigot,’ interrupts PC Carr, wondering what a Lothario might be, but not daring to ask.
‘…a serial bigamist,’ continues Sergeant Miller, scowling at his right-hand man.
Carlos looks up. ‘What will happen to me?’
PC Carr makes a sucking sound through his teeth. ‘Twenty years, thirty maybe.’
Sergeant Miller rolls his eyes. ‘According to Section 57 of the Offences Against the Person Act, 1861, bigamy is an offence punishable by a maximum of seven years’ imprisonment and / or a fine.’
‘Is that all?’ says PC Carr, sounding disappointed.
Sergeant Miller ignores the remark and asks, ‘why did you do it, Carlos?’
‘Fiz tudo por amor,’ replies Carlos, more to himself than to the officers present.
‘Come again?’ says PC Carr. ‘Pour a what?’
‘I did it for love,’ says Carlos, looking PC Carr straight in the eye. ‘I fall in love, I marry. I leave. I fall in love again.’
‘And what about Sherry?’ asks Sergeant Miller, almost sympathetically.
‘Sherry?’ exclaims PC Carr. ‘If you don’t mind me saying, Sarge, I think he’s lucky we’ve given him a glass of water!’
The sergeant turns slowly towards PC Carr. ‘Don’t you have a traffic report to complete, PC Carr?’
‘Yes, Sarge. However, I think this is more important…’
‘…it’s not a question, PC Carr.’
‘Oh. You want me to…(PC Carr points to the door)…I see. But, if this leth…leth…if he starts giving you trouble, sherry or no sherry, I won’t be far away.’
‘Don’t worry about not going far away, PC Carr.’
PC Carr reluctantly makes his exit, signalling to Carlos that he has his eye on him.
Carlos smiles. ‘You are good double act. You should be on TV.’
Sergeant Miller, on any other day, would have to agree with Carlos’ observation. Today, though, he has to deal with Carlos and his bigamy.
‘I’ve had a word with those above me and I am authorised to release you on police bail.’ He hands Carlos a document. ‘The conditions are set out here, the main ones being that you are to make no contact whatsoever with Sherry Cross and that you are not to leave Banfield without my express permission. You must also report to this station twice a day until the day of your court appearance, the date of which you will be informed in due course.’
Carlos looks at the piece of paper. He bows his head. ‘I not to see Sherry?’
‘No. You are not to see Sherry,’ repeats Sergeant Miller.
‘Then lock me up and throw away the key!’ Carlos pushes the document away.
Sergeant Miller sighs. Maybe he should have given this case to PC Carr after all, he thinks.
~
‘Resigned?’ Agnes is dipping a large haddock into a bucket filled with creamy white batter mix.
‘Yes. Took his bat home. He didn’t like being told he’d made a mistake,’ says Cody, scooping a pickled egg from a jar. He takes a bite and contorts his face. ‘Wow, Agnes, these are a bit…crikey.’ He eats the rest of the egg, pursing his lips and shaking his head.
‘So, who’s in charge now?’ asks Agnes, dropping the fish into the fryer.
‘Stephen. He’s deputy. I suppose he automatically takes over from Watson. Except he wasn’t at the meeting. Police business, apparently.’
‘Oh, they do police stuff, do they?’
Agnes’s cynicism is noted by Cody. ‘Yes. I’m not sure what they do, but they do do it.’
Agnes and Cody both laugh.
‘Well,’ says Agnes, prodding the fish with a long fork. ‘It’s about time the parish council had a new regime. It’s been ‘Frank this and Frank that’ for way too long now.’
‘Oh, he’s not bad,’ says Cody. ‘In fact, as chair, he’s very good. A bit officious at times, but there is no doubting his allegiance to Leeford, especially in the light of this ‘merger’, whatever that means. I’ll pop round and talk to him. I’ll just have another one of these eggs first.’ He scoops another egg out of the jar and goes through the same routine as before. ‘Do we ever sell these things, Agnes? There should be a warning on them.’
When Cody has left the chip shop, Agnes checks the sell-by date on the pickled egg jar. ‘Oh dear,’ she says, ‘out of date four years ago. Oops.’
~
Zack crashes through the front door of the vicarage and throws his bag onto the stairs. ‘Is that you, Zack?’ calls his mother, Hilda, from somewhere in the house. Zack does not reply, but goes into the lounge, where he turns on the TV and slumps onto the sofa. It’s a few minutes before his mother finds him.
‘Hello, love. I’m just going to make a sandwich, Would you like one?’
‘Not hungry,’ says Zack, without looking up.
‘How about some nice soup? I’ve got some in those plastic pots. It won’t take long to…’
‘I said, I’m not hungry.’
Hilda bites her top lip.
‘A cup of tea then?’
‘Mom. Just leave me alone, will you? I don’t want anything.’ Zack turns up the volume on the TV.
‘Excuse me for breathing, will you?’ says Hilda and walks out of the room.
Zack flicks through the channels. When he finds nothing of interest, he switches off the TV and throws the remote control into the corner of the room, narrowly missing a Clarice Cliff vase which his father had inherited from one of his deceased aunts.
‘What about a piece of toast?’ asks his mother, standing in the doorway.
‘Argh!’ shouts Zack, jumping from the sofa and rushing past his mother.
‘Clare,’ says Hilda to herself. ‘I bet it’s to do with Clare.’
~
Frank Watson is drinking tea with his daughter, Megan. Since returning home from the meeting, earlier than she had expected, he had said little, except that he had resigned.
‘But you love your parish council work, Dad. You can’t give it up, now. Not with all the Bordsley stuff going on. And then there’s the fête to organise.’
Frank takes a sip of tea.
‘They agreed with Thornton, unanimously, unanimously, that the census form was my ‘cock up’, as he put it. How can I take that kind of criticism and stay as chair of the council?’
‘And was it a ‘cock up’, Dad?’
‘Of course not. It’s just that people in this village are illiterate. Or imbeciles.’ Frank tips the rest of the tea into the saucer and drinks a mouthful.
‘That’s harsh, Dad,’ says Megan, dunking a biscuit into her cup.
‘Yes, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. Some of them are reasonably intelligent.’
Megan smiles.
‘And was the question ambiguous?’
‘Definitely not. Look.’ Frank opens one of the envelopes he had collected earlier in the day. ‘The question is clear: “Do you think Leeford Village should remain independent, or merge with Bordsley?” A very straightforward question if you ask me.’
Megan takes the form from her father and reads it.
‘You then have a box to say “yes” or “no”.’
‘Correct.’
‘So, if I answer “yes”, am I saying Leeford should remain independent?’
Frank nods. ‘You are. It’s as clear as day.’
‘But I could also be saying that I agree with the merger,’ says Megan, tentatively.
‘No one agrees with the merger, Megan. It’s obvious that by saying “yes” you wish Leeford to remain independent.’
Satisfied with his answer Frank slurps the rest of his tea from the saucer.
‘Obvious,’ he repeats.
Megan considers her next sentence very carefully before uttering it.
‘Obvious to you, Dad, because that’s the answer you want. But not obvious to anyone else. Particularly Councillor Lindale, I would suggest.’
Frank puts his saucer on the table. He takes the form from Megan and reads it several times. He rises from his seat and walks over to the bay window. He notices the roses are in need of a prune and makes a mental note to do it at the weekend.
‘Dad? Are you okay?’ Megan’s voice seems small and distant.
Frank turns the question over and over in his mind. There is no way round it – it is his cock up.
He picks up the phone and dials a number.
‘Councillor Lindale? Watson. Frank Watson. Ex-chair of Leeford Parish Council. I’m phoning to inform you that the census forms will be delivered later today, at least those that have been returned to me. I shall leave it to you to do whatever you will with regard to the merger and I would be grateful if you could make your decision swiftly and inform Leeford Parish Council at the earliest opportunity. Thank you.’
He puts the phone down.
‘Is there another cup of tea in the pot, Megan?’
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