The Village Green Affair by Rebecca Shaw Read Free Book Online Page B

rubbish’ll be our problem. And rubbish there’ll be. Cardboard boxes of all sizes, bubble wrap, food waste, paper cups and plates from the food stalls, wrapping paper, you name it.’
     
    Consternation took hold, just as Willie Biggs came round the corner of the soup section.
     
    Vince, fired up with gloom, continued, ‘We’ll all have rats. To say nothing of the thieves and the fly-by-nights. The noise. The hullabaloo. The crowds. Place won’t be our own, it won’t. Good old Turnham Malpas will be gone for ever. We’ll have street lighting and house numbers before we know where we are.’
     
    Street lighting and house numbers were always bound to create a kind of strangulated fury amongst the villagers, not least in Willie Biggs.
     
    ‘Well, I’m against the market for all those reasons and more. Here we have Jimbo running a store, which, let’s face it, is a blessing, an absolute blessing, and he doesn’t need that kind of competition. No, my word he doesn’t, and I for one will oppose it in support of Jimbo. After all, he’s here six days a week, open till seven now. My Sylvia won’t spend a single penny there, no matter how good the food is. It’s not on. And if I see anyone I know, which is everyone, buying stuff, I shall let them have the sharp edge of my tongue and not half.’ He nodded his head briskly, whisked a can of tomato soup from the shelves for his and Sylvia’s lunch, and hastened off, leaving Vince and his bowling cronies well satisfied that in Willie Biggs they had an earnest supporter of their protest. What form their protest should take was another question.
     
     
Liz told Neville about Jimbo’s request for Grand Prix tickets that night when he came home.
     
    ‘But, and I mean this, he’s not to have tickets with us. Buy some as far away as possible. Please.’ She fully expected Neville would be in agreement with her, but he said he owed Kevin himself so he’d get him seats next to them if he could.
     
    ‘Feather in my cap,’ he added, ‘because I can make it look as though I’m treating him but it’ll be at Jimbo’s expense.’
     
    ‘Didn’t you hear what I said?’
     
    Neville was still smiling at his crafty trick, that stiff smile of his which barely cracked his face. ‘I’ve said I owe him, so I will get them. Leave it with me.’ He picked up his glass of whiskey and found the remote control.
     
    ‘Neville, I am not, I repeat not, sitting with Kevin even within earshot. It would ruin my afternoon. I find the Grand Prix unbearable at the best of times but Kevin Smickersgill as well? Oh, no!’
     
    Her protest was completely ignored so Liz picked up the remote control and switched the TV off.
     
    ‘Do you hear me? I shan’t go if I have to tolerate that man. Then you won’t have a hostess and you’ll have to cope on your own. Right?’
     
    Neville wagged his finger at her. ‘This is a storm in a teacup. There’s nothing wrong with the man, and in the past he’s been very, very useful to me. That property I bought in Old Fold Yard, you remember? Kevin told me the day before it came on the market and I snapped it up for a song. We made fifty thousand with that, and I did no improvements whatsoever, simply because Kevin knew exactly the right person to buy it, and the chap couldn’t put his money down fast enough. So, Kevin is joining our party. My final word. Put Channel Four on, please.’
     
    ‘I’m embarrassed that you have any dealings with him whatsoever. He’s a sleazebag.’
     
    ‘I wish you wouldn’t talk about my business acquaintances in that tone. Put it on, then.’
     
    Liz flung the remote control on to the carpet and got to her feet. ‘Put it on yourself. All you do in this house is switch on the remote control.’
     
    ‘I see. Making a cool fifty grand for us doesn’t count.’
     
    ‘Of course it does, but I’d rather you enjoyed my company and paid some attention to me as well. Or rather to us . It’s over a year since