Trisha Ashley 3 Book Bundle. Trisha Ashley
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href="#ulink_805568a0-73f8-58c3-a7bb-0a9420678b17">Chapter Twenty-five Mixed Bag
Apart from Zillah’s reassurance (for what it was worth) I knew Raffy really was OK because Poppy popped in after the latest Parish Council meeting and said his visit to Mann-Drake seemed to have been a bit of a damp squib.
‘I mean, I don’t know what Miss Winter and your grandfather were imagining would happen to Raffy, but he just said that Mann-Drake had been polite, but unforthcoming about both his personal beliefs and his business plans.’
‘I knew Mann-Drake hadn’t turned him into a frog, because he couldn’t have driven back if he had little stumpy legs and webbed feet,’ I said, and she giggled.
‘I can’t see Raffy as a frog, can you? Anyway, a queue of women a mile long would instantly form, ready to kiss him back into a prince. Effie Yatton would be one of them. She called him “dear boy” twice at the meeting and she keeps bringing him food.’
I pushed the box of truffles we were sharing back in her direction and she selected one covered in chopped nuts, then said, ‘We had some really good news for the householders on the Green that Mann-Drake is trying to extort money from. Miss Winter’s solicitor found a similar case that had been recently successfully contested.’
‘That is good news,’ I agreed.
‘Yes, and the Rights of Way Act was changed after it, so that if you’ve had at least twenty years’ right of access across common land, no one can impose a charge – and that’s all of the houses along there.’
I’d picked up another truffle, a rum one but, feeling slightly sick, put it back again: you can have too much, even of good chocolate. Poppy’s complexion, however, remained a healthy pink although she had eaten twice as many as I had. ‘So Mann-Drake hasn’t got a leg to stand on?’
‘Not even a little, green, stumpy webbed one,’ she agreed happily. ‘The solicitor is going to send a letter to him pointing this out, though he thinks he probably already knows about it and just hoped to panic everyone into paying the charge before they discovered it.’
‘So that’s one problem solved, at least,’ I said.
‘We’re going to announce it at the meeting tomorrow night in the village hall – you are going, aren’t you?’
‘Yes, it looks like we’re all going and I’m taking a big chocolate cake as our contribution to the buffet.’
‘Oh, good! I love your chocolate cake,’ she said, taking a last truffle and tucking it into her cheek like a hamster. Then she got up, dusting cocoa powder off her hands. ‘Better go,’ she said indistinctly. ‘See you tomorrow!’
I didn’t see Raffy again until the meeting, unless you counted brief, early morning glimpses when he walked Arlo past my window – or rather, dragged him past, since Arlo always seemed determined to come in.
I think I may have become what they call a curtain-twitcher.
We Lyons were out in force at the meeting: Grumps, Zillah and Jake had decided to go, and Kat was there with her parents, so we would all get to meet them at last – and vice versa. Janey arrived under her own steam and even Clive Snowball was there; he must have left his mother and Molly in charge of the pub.
Raffy chaired the meeting, with the whole Parish Council, including Felix and a very self-conscious Poppy, sitting on the stage and taking questions. As usual, Miss Winter answered most of them, though she did graciously defer to the vicar from time to time.
There was lots of indignation about this stranger daring to come into their midst and trying to change things, though one or two of the local businesses that he patronised were slightly more forgiving.
‘I spoke to Mr Mann-Drake myself,’ Raffy said, ‘and he was adamant that he intended selling the tennis court and the lido land for housing development. He seemed confident that he’d be able to obtain planning permission on appeal, because the areas are within the village boundary.’
‘The junior tennis club gives the kids something to do in summer,’ a man’s voice called from the back of the hall and someone else said, ‘That’s right, and most of us have learned to swim up at the lido, and the Guides and Scouts have their annual camp there.’
‘The tennis club problem is easily solved,’ Miss Winter announced. ‘The vicar is renovating the court at the rear of the vicarage, which he has generously offered to let us use instead.’
‘The court and pavilion should be ready by the end of next month, when the lease on the other site runs out,’ Raffy agreed. ‘I’m making access to it by the side gate onto Church Way, and Miss Yatton will have the keys and run it as before.’
‘In fact, I think it will be a distinct improvement,’ Effie said. ‘The current one floods most of the winter, so there’s always a lot of clearing up to do in the spring.’
‘But of course!’ Laurence Yatton exclaimed. ‘That’s why the tennis court land was never built on – seasonal floods! They affect the edge of the lido field too. I’d quite forgotten, and I don’t suppose Mann-Drake would know that at all, not being from the area.’
‘We will have to make sure any potential property developers are fully aware of it,’ Hebe Winter said thoughtfully.
‘Hear! Hear!’ someone called, and there were echoes around the room.
‘I can speak to my cousin Conrad,’ suggested Poppy. ‘He’ll probably learn about any interest in the site first, being the main local estate agent – or he can find out.’
‘That would be really useful, thank you, Poppy,’ Raffy said, and she went quite pink with pleasure.
‘Isn’t there a line on the side of the tennis pavilion, marking the highest floodwater levels?’ asked Mike, the village policeman.
‘I think it just shows how high the great flood of ’36 got,’ Effie said. ‘There’s a plaque too, but its paint has peeled off.’
‘It should be repainted so it’s nice and clear,’ suggested Felix, and someone in the hall volunteered to do that.
Then Laurence Yatton proposed that a group could be organised to go and picket the Town Hall in Merchester and protest about the lido field, and by the end of the meeting there was a general air of having declared battle and of everyone being ready for action, once they knew exactly in what direction to proceed.
The main business of the meeting wound up with Hebe Winter graciously thanking the vicar for coming to the rescue with the tennis courts and also for taking on the repairs to the village hall annexe.
Everyone enthusiastically gave three loud cheers and then made a dive for the refreshments while Mr Lees, who had been sitting at the piano next to the stage with his black Labrador sprawled across his feet, now lifted the lid and played a Beatles medley, to everyone’s amazement.
Kat introduced her parents to Grumps, who was gracious, Zillah, who grinned glintingly from ear to ear, and then to me, by which time they looked slightly stunned, though they told me what a nice boy Jake was. Then they left, taking him with them, which was probably easier than trying to disentangle him from Kat.
‘That went really well,’ I said to Felix and Poppy when I caught up with them by the buffet table. Felix had piled his plate up so high that it looked like one of those Continental choux pastry wedding confections. ‘It doesn’t sound like the tennis courts are going to be quite the valuable asset Mr Mann-Drake thought they would be, does it?’
‘No, and I’m sure we can get lots of protesters out with placards, and coverage in the newspapers if any developers show interest in building there, or on the lido field,’ Felix agreed.
Poppy said earnestly, ‘Yes – I mean, it’s not that we’re against having any new homes in Sticklepond, just that they look so much better slotted in here and there, rather than a whole estate