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‘It would be pleasant if you could be a little more gracious about it.’
    ‘ Gracious ? What’s there to be gracious about? Facts are facts.’
    ‘The village won’t like it,’ Ralph said again.
    ‘They’ll have to take a deep breath and swallow hard then.’
    ‘Don’t forget you’ve come up against their wrath once before.’
    Mr Fitch gave Ralph a piercing look. ‘About the church silver, you mean?’ He flicked some ash from his cigar into the flames and paused for a moment. ‘It was only the effigy they made, hanging from the tree.’
    ‘And all the things going wrong here. The hearing being off for three days in the dead of winter, your tyres let down, the strike of the kitchen staff and the—’
    ‘You mean all that was engineered?’
    ‘Of course. Hadn’t you realised that?’
    Unwilling to admit in front of Ralph that it had never occurred to him that the opposition from the village could be so vicious, he paused before replying. ‘Well, it had crossed my mind, naturally; it all did seem rather odd, but I didn’t take it seriously.’ He sat silently watching the flames leaping up his chimney. The devil they did.
    Ralph said, ‘You’d have to be here fifty years at least before they accepted you, and unfortunately you’ve not got that much time left.’
    Mr Fitch’s head came up with a jerk. ‘Neither have you.’
    ‘True, true, but then I’m one step ahead. I’m already accepted and have been for centuries.’
    ‘So they’ll take my money but not me?’
    ‘In a nutshell.’
    ‘Damn them!!’
    ‘That’s just it.’
    ‘What is?’
    ‘Your attitude.’
    Craddock Fitch strode about the room, puffing furiously on his cigar, his brown gleaming shoes rapping sharply on the polished floor. He came to a halt on the huge round rug in front of the fire. As he stubbed out his cigar in the ash-tray on the coffee table he said, ‘You’re saying if I insist on being president I shall lose what little kudos I might have already gained?’
    ‘Something like that.’
    ‘Who are these people who think they can dictate to me?’
    ‘It is their village, their cricket team, not yours, not mine.’
    ‘At this rate there’ll be no progress.’
    ‘Not much.’
    ‘Well, I’m damned.’ Mr Fitch stabbed his well manicured hand in Ralph’s direction. ‘All right then, you be president, but my name goes above the pavilion door. The Henry Craddock Fitch Pavilion – that’ll sort ’em. No doubt who’s paid for it then, eh? And my company logo on the gear I buy – you know, “sponsored by et cetera”. Right?’
    ‘Done!’ They shook hands on the deal. Ralph glanced up at Mr Fitch, taking care to veil the twinkle in his eyes. ‘And you can donate a cup, if you like.’
    ‘Two! One to the batsman with the highest score in the season, and one to the bowler with the best average.’
    ‘Done! I’ll have another cup of tea, if I may. Now let’s get down to business. Finance first. Shall you want rent for me pavilion? I rather hope not, for the first year at least.’
    Mr Fitch raised his eyebrows at Ralph’s outspokenness. ‘I don’t know how you got so high in the Diplomatic Service. There’s not much diplomacy about your dealings!’

Chapter 5
     
    ‘Kiss, kiss, my darling children. Mummy’s off to make poorly people better, isn’t she? Now Beth, Mummy won’t be long. Sylvia’s going to take you and stay for a while aren’t you, Sylvia?’
    ‘Of course. Will you show me where the sand is, Beth? I love playing in the sand.’
    Alex said, ‘Me will, Sylvie, me will. Me knows where the sand is. Beth doesn’t.’
    Beth stamped her foot. ‘Beth does.’
    ‘Beth doesn’t ’cos you won’t play.’
    ‘I will.’
    ‘You won’t.’
    ‘That will do, children. Please . Now I’m going. Be good, and Mummy will have a present for you when she comes back.’
    ‘Beth not going.’ She sat down on the hall floor.
    ‘Sylvia! I really must go or I shall be late.’ Caroline kissed the