Enigma of Fire Page 2

  “Mrs. Elliott doesn’t do things by halves.” Rollie grinned and nodded to Berdie.

  Berdie smiled in return. Rollie and his wife, Joan, had recently moved to Timsley, the nearby market town. And although they were longtime friends, she and Hugh were just getting reacquainted with the Lloyds again. “Your Joan would do nothing less.”

  Dave unfolded a chair. “We have a fine boathouse here, but no café. It’s a small club, and I rather prefer it that way.”

  “This lot beats a café,” Chad rebutted. “Al fresco suits me.”

  Hugh brought more chairs and set them round. “That’s the lot.” He sighed. “We’re missing Busby, of course, but he’s off visiting family in Canada.”

  “Ah, Busby. I’m surprised he didn’t fly in just for the meat pie,” Rollie teased.

  “Indeed.” Hugh rubbed his hands and stood tall, every ounce of his six-foot frame at attention. “I believe grace is in order.”

  Berdie watched Rollie and Dave bow their heads as Chad glanced round, apparently unaccustomed to such a thing, and then dipped his chin.

  “For what we are about to receive, we are truly thankful, Lord. Feed and refresh us. Amen.”

  “Amen,” Berdie, Lillie, and Dave responded.

  “And God give us the grace to rise from our beds in the morning without the aid of a large hoist.” Rollie rubbed his arm.

  Berdie served the fellows their cordials.

  “I should think a toast to absent friends is appropriate as well.” Hugh held up his drinks glass. “To absent friends.”

  All repeated, “Absent friends.”

  Chad respectfully added, “To Ennis Wolf.”

  “To Ennis,” the men repeated and took a swallow of lime cordial.

  “Tuck in,” Berdie invited, and the crew set to.

  As she helped serve, she became aware that Doug Devlin and his daughter, Tillie, two of the “angels” currently staying in her home, had arrived by cab at the road’s edge. They were making the lengthy trek cross the wild, grass-anchored soil that led to their picnic table.

  And trek it was. Tillie gripped her father’s wheelchair handles with tight fists, her slim twenty-something body calling upon all her weight to push. Tillie’s long blonde hair fell forward as she leaned to thrust with her anchored legs, churning slowly across the soft earth.

  Moisture appeared along Doug’s blond hairline, his broad chest and muscular arms engaged as he worked to push the wheels along with his hands as well, angling and dipping as they went.

  Though they had already been guests at the vicarage for nearly a week, Berdie had prepared and placed the picnic without any real thought to Doug’s circumstances. She watched Tillie struggle. Doug used his leg to awkwardly balance while his other trouser leg lay empty below the knee.

  Berdie felt suddenly negligent. “Dear Lord,” she whispered.

  Though Chad was the first to come to Tillie’s aid, all the fellows set their plates aside to assist.

  “You old sea dog, Devlin,” Chad chided his pal.

  “Chad Meryl, when did you arrive?”

  “Just in time for a good thrash round the lake and a grand tea,” he answered. “And this isn’t the last you’ll see of me. I’ll be staying at the vicarage as well.” Chad took control of the wheelchair as Tillie released her grip. “Let me help.”

  “Very kind,” she responded in between breaths.

  “Doug”—Rollie stepped lively to his friend—“good to see you.”

  Doug stuck out his hand. “Rollie, how’s retired life?”

  The men heartily clasped hands and shook.

  Hugh and Dave stamped their feet in an obvious attempt to compact the soil and create an even track for the wheelchair to the table.

  “My, his daughter is dedicated to take that slog on,” Lillie noted to Berdie.

  “She is indeed. Dedicated to the bone.” Berdie once again felt a pang of guilt and bit her lip. “I never thought about access.”

  “Nonsense. He wants to be here with his Navy mates,” Lillie reminded. “He’d probably wheel himself across the Sahara in a sandstorm to spend time with them.”

  Berdie watched as the men, and Tillie, made way to the table. “I’m sure he wishes he could be rowing again with his team. Still, at least I can give him a tasty meal for all his work.”

  “That’s right. You’ve done a splendid job here.”

  Lillie was right. Being host to four guests, one of whom had special considerations, was just like her role as village vicar’s wife. Berdie took it on as it came, learning as she went along.

  “Wonderfully laid, Mrs. Elliott.” Tillie reached the table where her darkest blue eyes took it all in.

  “Did you enjoy your morning at the Timsley History Museum?” Berdie asked.

  “A bit taxing for Dad, but yes,” Tillie answered.

  “This is grand.” Doug cheered while Chad placed him at the table and set the wheelchair’s brake.

  “I’ll fetch a plate for you, Dad,” Tillie offered.

  “You know what he likes best.” Berdie once again felt she had overlooked an obvious need.

  Doug eyed the eggs. “You know, I could fill the plate with Scotch eggs alone and be completely satisfied.”

  Berdie brightened while Lillie gave a casual laugh.

  “Now, Dad, you need to think of your health. There’s plenty of other good food. No Scotch eggs.”

  “My daughter doesn’t let me get away with much.” Doug grinned.

  While Tillie filled a plate, Lillie leaned close to Berdie. “How old is she?”

  “She’s not yet twenty-five.”

  “Quite young to be the parent.”

  Berdie nodded. “Perhaps she had to be.” Berdie spoke softly. “Her mother left Tillie and Doug several years back.”

  “I see.”

  “I’ve made a subtle attempt, since she’s been here, to introduce her to some young people her age.”

  “Subtle, that’s a new tactic on your part.”

  “I sent her to a party at Matthew Reese’s home last night. I made a promise to keep Doug safe and sound. She got in late. Positive sign. This morning, she said she had enjoyed herself.”

  Berdie directed her full voice to the young woman. “I’ll give what you’ve dished up to your father, and you can fill your own plate.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Elliott, but I’ve got it.” Tillie’s smile was pleasant.

  While everyone tucked into their food, Berdie heard the arrival of another guest, one who was not invited. She recognized that bark anywhere now.

  Sparks, on a lead, thank heaven, made way to the picnic table with Cedric on the other end, who indeed was invited. Sparks actually grew quiet and stood to heel of the commander, who tugged lightly on the lead.

  “What’s he doing here?” Chad’s loud words didn’t sound rhetorical.

  Hugh raised his eyes to the approaching silver-haired friend and smiled. “Oh, the commander takes Sparks most everywhere he goes now. He’s staying with us too.”

  “I don’t mean the dog,” flew like bullets from Chad’s mouth as he sprang from his chair. “What’s he doing here?”

  “Cedric? I invited him, of course, to come cheer his fellows on, to watch the regatta.” Hugh’s tone suddenly had a guarded edge.

  “Cheer his fellows on?” Chad’s face grew dark at the sound of the words. “You can’t be serious.”

  Berdie watched Cedric make way toward the table, cheerful, it seemed, until he caught sight of Chad. He appeared stunned, almost frozen. Then his lips pursed, his fair skin flushed red round his neck, and he lifted his chin. “Good day, men,” he called, took a deep breath, and stood his mature body ramrod-straight. “Hello, Leftenant Meryl.”

  “Hello, Leftenant Meryl?” Chad’s jaw set. “Is that all you can say after what you did?”

  Everyone stared at Chad, then the commander. By the surprise registered on the faces of those eating, Berdie wasn’t the only one who stood amazed to see the interaction
between the two men.

  The commander made no comment, but Sparks gave a low growl.

  “Gentleman, we’re gathered round to celebrate a reunion.” Dave motioned toward the table.

  As if Dave had said nothing, the commander’s eyes were fixed on Chad. “I shouldn’t have come if I knew you would be here.”

  “Oh, I’m here all right. If I had any idea you were anywhere near, I’d have been better prepared to take you on.” Chad’s hands, at his sides, went into fists.

  “Chad, steady on,” Hugh cautioned.

  Dave rose from his chair. “Whatever the problem, we’re all friends here.”

  “Friends with you lot”—Chad nodded toward the group round the table—“yes.” He stabbed an index finger toward the commander, shaking with rage. “Not him. Never him.”

  Berdie could feel Chad’s caustic words sweep any civil discourse into the lake depths.

  “Let’s calm down.” Hugh now also rose. “This can all be sorted.”

  The commander slacked the lead and Sparks lunged to the fore, showed his teeth, and began a barking tirade bent to protect.

  Berdie looked round and took everyone in. Lillie appeared ready to run, Rollie’s mouth gaped, Dave was anguished, beads of perspiration dotted Doug’s forehead, and Tillie’s fork was wrapped in her fist, tines poised as a weapon.

  It was then Berdie caught her breath at the possibilities that could unfold with an angry man pitted against a defend-to-the-death canine. She found the commanding words flying from her mouth. “Will you please restrain your dog, Cedric?”

  The former officer tightened his grip on the lead. “Down, Sparks. Heel.” The dog responded to the command and pulled back, but his ears were on high alert, edgy feet eager.

  “You may have a vicious beast to hide behind this time, but you’ve not heard the last of me.” Chad grabbed his full plate from the table and thrust it to the earth, splattering food all over the celebratory bunting that fluttered round the table. His eyes flared; his whole body tensed. “You’ll rue the day our paths crossed again.”

  The sneer on Chad’s face made Berdie prickle.

  Chad spat onto the soil, turned, and stampeded for the road. Even though he gave a wide berth to the commander and his pet, Sparks raised the alarm, barking as if to say, “Good riddance.”

  Tillie abruptly stood.

  “What are you doing, Tillie?” Doug gripped the wheels of his mobile chair.

  “Someone needs to go after him.”

  “She’s right,” Dave replied. “I’ll go.”

  Dave moved quickly, while Cedric patted Sparks, who seemed pleased with himself that the threat had retreated.

  Tillie wistfully watched Dave approach Chad whilst she sank into to her seat.

  Cedric reached the group, chin jutted, shaking his head. “I’m sorry you all had to be privy to such conduct.” He stood firmly, shoulders back, flushed. “If you will please excuse me, then I’ll go now and let you eat in peace.”

  “Cedric”—Hugh’s voice was clear—“we really would enjoy your company here. Dave will see to Chad. Consider it nothing more than a youthful moment of indiscretion.”

  Youthful moment? Indiscretion? Berdie couldn’t believe her ears. There were threats made.

  “We can put all this behind us and move on.”

  Tillie eyed Hugh.

  “Please, Cedric, join us.” Hugh waved his hand toward the laden table.

  “Come now, Commander, it takes more than a few harsh words to keep you from enjoying good food,” Rollie joked. “None of that military grub here.”

  “Well….” The commander stepped forward while Sparks lifted his nose to what Berdie assumed was the tantalizing scent of her chicken-and-ale pie. She hoped the commander kept Sparks on a short lead.

  Cedric’s eyes were steady. “If you’re sure, that’s very kind.”

  “Here’s your plate.” Doug held an empty dish toward the gentleman.

  “Thank you, Doug. And a good afternoon to you, Tillie.”

  Tillie smiled and nodded.

  Hugh glanced at the shaken Lillie. “Commander Royce, this is Miss Foxworth, our choir mistress at St. Aidan and a dear friend.”

  He gave a polite nod her direction to which she offered a weak smile.

  “Well, we can’t have tasty food go to waste,” Hugh announced.

  Berdie knew he was trying to turn a difficult situation into a salvageable gathering.

  While Cedric filled his plate, Berdie watched Dave St. John in the distance speak with Chad, who was now at his vehicle. Chad’s shoulders appeared less tense as he conversed with his teammate, but when he pounded his fist into his palm, it was clear Chad’s antagonism had not subsided. Dave handed Chad a set of keys, perhaps to his flat in nearby Kingsbridge. At least Berdie hoped so. She certainly couldn’t see Chad and Cedric dwelling under the same roof of her much-loved vicarage. Not even in the same village for that matter.

  While the fellows round the table worked at light conversation and Sparks rested at the commander’s feet, Tillie ran a fork cross her piece of chicken-and-ale pie, and then pushed her entire plate aside.

  Chad stirred dust on the road as he roared off in his car.

  “I often have pickled onions with ham,” Rollie offered rather absently.

  “You know, some pickled onions wouldn’t go amiss with these sandwich rounds. Do we have any?” Hugh asked Berdie.

  “Didn’t I set them out?” Berdie scanned the table. “I know I packed some in the car.”

  “I’ll get them.” Lillie was out of her seat like some jack-in-the-box.

  “Do you know where they are?” Berdie called after her.

  Lillie didn’t acknowledge Berdie’s question. She simply carried on to the vehicle.

  Berdie put her plate on the table and caught up her friend.

  “Those two fellows. That was certainly a display,” Lillie piped.

  “Wasn’t it just?”

  “It put me off my food altogether. And my bunting’s ruined. What’s between Cedric and Chad?”

  “No idea.” Berdie reached the rear of the auto and pulled her car keys from her skirt pocket, gave them a shake, and considered what had just taken place. “And I’m not sure anyone here really knows either. Or if they do, they’re being unusually quiet.”

  “Must be something quite awful. Chad was spectacularly angry.”

  “The commander wasn’t exactly gracious either.”

  Lillie opened the front passenger door and looked inside the vehicle to the backseat. “No, not here.”

  “In the boot, my dear.” Berdie pushed a button on her key fob and the tailgate of her sedan popped up, revealing the jar of treats in a back corner.

  “Do you suppose it has something to do with a problem they had in the military?” Lillie stepped to the car boot.

  “Chad’s been out for two or three years, I believe, but the commander retired only a few months back.” Berdie tapped the fob against her chin. “It’s hard to say, but it wouldn’t be entirely unlikely.”

  “I can see your nose twitching,” Lillie teased. “You’re dying to know what it’s all about.”

  “And you aren’t?”

  “I can tell when your former-investigative-reporter nose raises to sniff out the whys and wherefores.”

  “Well, the truth is, at the moment, besides all my usual church responsibilities, I’m too busy keeping a house full of guests fed, clean, comfortable, and in an amiable state of being. And that’s besides the dog. I’ve no time to sniff about.”

  Lillie took up the onion jar and faced Berdie. “I’ll give you twenty-four hours before you start digging.” She raised her brow. “Now tell me, why did the commander bring Sparks with him to the vicarage on this visit?”

  “I’m not entirely sure. He’s staying a fair amount of time. Perhaps he couldn’t find anyone to look after Sparks.” Berdie dropped her chin. “I do know that Cedric’s wife died just a year back.”

  “Did th
ey have children?”

  “A daughter. But from the little Hugh knows, she and Cedric had some kind of rift and they’ve not had contact since.”

  “What about his wife’s funeral?”

  Berdie shrugged and returned the key to her pocket. “Hugh attended, not I.” Berdie glanced toward the commander. “I suppose the dog is a companion of sorts.”

  “That’s a companion? Bit sad, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, well, I think that’s why Hugh invited him to stay with us. I guess he’s been a bit down. It seemed the perfect opportunity to invite him to visit with the Whitsun Regatta coming, especially since the crew is made up of members from his old unit.” Berdie sighed. “Well and good, but my dear husband told him that he could bring the creature with him, and bring him he did.”

  “You mean Hugh didn’t ask you about taking in the canine guest?”

  Berdie cocked her head. “He didn’t ask me because he knew what my answer would be, I should imagine. But it’s a moot point now.”

  Lillie clutched the pickled-onion jar with both hands. “Still, I wonder what may have transpired between Chad and the commander if the dog had not been here.”

  “That, my dear, is hopefully something that will forever be left to the imagination.”

  “Berdie,” Hugh called from the table, “did you find the onions?”

  Berdie nodded. “Just coming.” She closed the boot. “Whatever’s between the two men, our plate is full with other goings-on. The regatta and all the preparation for it, Whitsun days of prayer, the children’s Tea Time Club with the St. Matthew’s youth, all clamoring for our time and energy.”

  Berdie and Lillie began walking back to the group.

  “Hugh’s taking the church primary school youth group over to St. Matthew’s in Mistcome Greene today?” Lillie inquired.

  “Today and every day, apart from Sunday, until Whitsun. He ferries them from school in the church people carrier at the end of classes.”

  “But it’s Saturday.”

  “Even so, he’s picking up the children from the school at the same time for a special dinner at St. Matthew’s, a hotdog roast for the kiddies.”