Part 11 (1/2)

Chapter Thirty.

Fragment from The Memoirs of Ludlow Fitch Perigoe's secret was the last one I wrote in the Black Book. The morning after her visit Joe sent me out for some bread. I greeted the bakers as usual, but their response was icy. Elias served me in silence and his eyes were shooting daggers. The oldest boy, who was behind the counter, couldn't even look at me. I bade them goodbye and left, wondering what I had done to offend them. As I stepped out of the door I saw the other two Sourdough brothers across the street. Usually they liked to walk with me, but today they ran away and watched from further down the hill. One of them threw a s...o...b..ll. It hit the side of my head and stung sharply. When I put my hand to the wound it came away b.l.o.o.d.y and I saw a small stone lying at my feet.

Suddenly the window above me opened and the next second a pail of freezing dirty water drenched me from head to foot. *That's right,' came a jeering voice. *Get back up the hill to your devil friend. We don't want you around here.' It was Ruby.

I broke into a run and raced back up to the shop, bursting through the door. I slammed it behind me and threw across the bolt.

*What happened?' asked Joe, noticing the blood on my face.

*I'm not sure,' I said, *but Elias wouldn't talk to me and Ruby threw a pail of water over my head.'

Joe looked puzzled. *For what reason?'

*I don't know,' I spluttered. *All I wanted was a loaf of bread.'

I peeled off my cloak and hung it in front of the fire. Joe was sitting, leaning forward with his hands clasped under his chin. I shook my dripping head and drops of water turned to steam on the burning logs.

*Did you know this was going to happen?' I asked. *Is it because of Jeremiah?'

*I don't know about Jeremiah,' said Joe slowly, *but I must say I expected something like this.'

*Why?'

*Because there is a fine line between grat.i.tude and resentment. Everyone is happy to accept my money a” they smile and say thank you, and go away and forget how badly off they were before I arrived. Then they come back looking for more.'

I was surprised at the bitterness in his voice. This wasn't the Joe I knew, who harboured no resentment, no ill-feeling, who took it all in his stride. It unsettled me to see this side to him.

*You sound as if this has happened before,' I said.

*It has, but usually I know why.'

*Well, whatever the reason, I think it's unfair,' I began, but at the same time Saluki suddenly started to croak loudly in the shop and the peace and quiet of the morning was violently interrupted by the sound of a riotous altercation in the street.

Joe leaped up and ran to the door, I followed him and together we hurried down the hill. The sight that greeted us, were it not for the seriousness of it, would have been quite ridiculous and more suited to the theatre. Jeremiah Ratchet and Horatio Cleaver were arguing, actually grappling with each other, in the middle of the street. And the cause of their disagreement? A turkey.

Joe's eyes sparkled. *It has begun,' he said.

As we approached the affray it became apparent what was going on.

*You'll not take any more of my meat, you thieving windbag!' shouted Horatio and the onlookers cheered. It seemed that the whole village had come out to watch: the Sourdoughs, Perigoe, Obadiah, Benjamin Tup, Job Wright, Lily Weaver, Dr Mouldered, Polly and even a few faces that were unfamiliar to me.

Ratchet said nothing, just planted his feet more firmly on the ground and pulled with all his might. He held the turkey's legs, Horatio had its head, and the poor dead creature was near torn in two. Jeremiah was purple with the effort and Horatio's cheeks were a similar shade.

The men were well matched: both stout and solid on the ground. Horatio was slightly taller, but whether this was an advantage or not on the icy street was debatable. The air was filled with cursing and swearing, spit and clouds of breath.

*It's my turkey!' shouted Jeremiah. *You owe me, Horatio.'

With one huge tug he managed to unbalance the butcher, who let go of the bird rather than fall over. Jeremiah, of course, fell instead and to have the turkey was no consolation for his loss of dignity as he spun on the ice three times before coming to a stop at Joe's feet.

The crowd cheered and laughed and clapped as Jeremiah struggled to stand. Only Joe held out his hand to help, but Jeremiah ignored it and took off home, still holding the limp bird.

*Good riddance,' shouted Elias Sourdough.

Jeremiah didn't look back. I was surprised. He was not the sort of man to let someone else have the last word.

Horatio came up to Joe in a state of great excitement about what he had just done. I had never thought to see this quiet man so elated.

*Did you see that, Joe?' He was breathing heavily and he was shaking. *I stood up to him. I told him he could take no more of my meat. Just like you said.'

He seemed to have forgotten that Jeremiah had the turkey.

He waited for Joe to answer, to pat him on the back, to congratulate him, but Joe said nothing. His face turned from grey to white and, for an instant only, anger flared in his eyes.

*I didn't say that,' he muttered. *I didn't say that at all.'

Job Wright, the blacksmith, stepped forward and his mouth was curled in a snarl.

*So,' he said, and his voice was br.i.m.m.i.n.g with sarcasm, *you've finally come to help us.'

*Ratchet's time will come,' said Joe simply. *All you have to do is wait. For now, can't you all be happy that your fortunes have changed?'

*But how long must we wait?' asked Obadiah. *You told me Jeremiah would feel the force of your justice.'

Horatio looked towards the crowd. *And he told me he'd give him what was coming to him.'

Then it was Perigoe's turn. *I've been to him too,' she said as loudly as she could, *and he said he'd make Jeremiah pay.'

*That's what he told me,' came another voice.

*And me,' said someone else. *But I thought I was the only one!'

*What are you talking about?' asked another and his neighbour (who had recently sold his own secret) immediately turned to him and began to tell him all about Joe's midnight confessional and the Black Book.

Suddenly everyone was talking at once as they realized exactly how many of their fellow villagers had secretly visited Joe Zabbidou at the stroke of twelve. Those who had been personally invited to the back room now felt cheated that it wasn't an exclusive service a” Joe really did know how to make people feel special a” and those who hadn't been invited felt cheated that they had not been considered worthy of the service. Whatever the individual's circ.u.mstances, the disgruntled crowd, who only moments ago were laughing at Jeremiah, turned united to Joe Zabbidou and fixed him with an icy glare. I looked at them all, their faces glowing in the cold, their narrow eyes focused on Joe. My palms were damp with cold sweat. These were no longer friendly faces and I was frightened.

Job Wright stood with his legs apart and his powerful arms crossed against his chest. In the absence of any other volunteer, he appeared to have taken on the role of village spokesman.

*So, Mr Zabbidou, what have you to say to that?'

The chattering stopped instantly. Seconds pa.s.sed and the silence strained at its seams and threatened to explode. I could see the muscles in Joe's jaw clenching and unclench-ing and he spoke through gritted teeth.

*I said none of those things. You have twisted my words, words I offered to comfort you.'

*Then what exactly did you say?' challenged the blacksmith.

*I said to be patient.' Joe looked around the scornful faces before settling on Perigoe and Horatio and Obadiah, who stood together in a nervous huddle. *Is that not the truth?'