‘And if you had killed the boy?’Harriet fixes Kester with an icy stare. ‘Your child would no doubt have been brought up while you were languishing in some prison or other teaching inmates how to repair a dripping tap! I am appalled that you thought it necessary to use such force and you are jolly lucky that everyone spoke up for you.’

‘What is ‘jolly lucky’, Harriet is the fact that we still have a child to be brought up anywhere!’ Kester reddens with anger at being chastised. ‘You didn’t see what happened or how hard he pushed her. The bruise on her leg where she hit the seat....’

‘Then your first concern should have been with Helen! Fogged with drink....’

‘For Christ’s sake, I was not fogged with anything; I’d had a few pints that’s all,’ he says wearily and moves to the window to stare out onto the front drive. ‘I was angry and I lost it. If Helen had been visibly hurt, if the seat hadn’t been there and she’d hit the ground, I’d’ve let the little swine run past me, money and all. She wasn’t and she said she was fine.’

‘You should have made sure.’ Harriet’s head twitches with self-righteous indignation. ‘Then my grandson would not be the talk of the village!’

‘Excuse me?’ he challenges, turning to stare at her agape. ‘I’ve done this village a bloody favour, and you know it. The police have finally got something they can pin on him and a dozen or more witnesses who’ll stand up in court to make sure he goes away.  For once they’ve got enough evidence, caught in the act and no mates swearing to Almighty God he was miles away.’

‘And that justifies your behaviour?’ Her mouth pinches with reproof.

‘It does in my book.’

‘Well, it does not in mine. You have become some sort of avenging hero with the strength of six men...’

‘I can live with that.’ Kester grins and moves between the two chairs to return to the sofa and collect his jacket.

‘It is no joking matter!’

‘And it’s not one for being so serious about either,’ he says, shrugging the jacket on and flicking the collar from the back of his neck and pulling it straight. ‘I’m not proud of losing my temper or the fact that I was this far..’ he measures a small distance between his thumb and first finger ‘away from ridding the village of him permanently but nobody treats a pregnant woman like that, especially when that woman is my wife.’ His face closes in an obstinate and jowly scowl as he pats his pockets for his car keys and once found, uses them to jab the air in emphasis.  ‘And as far as the police are concerned, I used reasonable force in detaining a suspect. If that’s just them making it go away so they can get him banged up, I’m not arguing. But if they had charged me,’ he says, twirling the key ring around his finger and catching the keys. ‘I’d’ve taken it on the chin, responsible for my own actions.’

‘I would hardly call you responsible...’

‘It didn’t happen, okay? I’ve not been charged with anything so let it drop.’

‘And Helen?’ Harriet refuses to concede and eyes him with the same disdainful expression.

Kester counts each point by opening fingers from the fist clenched around his keys and touching them with the index finger of the other hand. ‘Helen is fine, the baby is fine, I’m fine. Everybody is fine apart from you.’ His hands lift in feigned indifference and he shrugs. ‘What I did had nothing to do with how much I had or hadn’t drunk. I’m not about to become a drunkard or a hardened criminal nor have I let this family or its breeding down. I’m not proud of precisely what I did but I am bloody glad I did it. If that’s wrong in your eyes, then tough.’ He crosses the room again to drop a cool kiss of goodbye on Harriet’s cheek and stands in front of her for a few moments, his disappointment clear from the tone of his voice. ‘You’re the only person so far who hasn’t shaken me by the hand and said it was a job well done.’ He twirls and catches his keys again as he turns away. ‘So I’m off to bathe in some more of my glory before it fades.’

Tawny House, Manor Road

Chapter Forty-eight

The Old Mill Cafe

‘Nigh on three ‘undred pounds, the dentist’s told ‘im. Three ‘undred pounds!’ Edna’s high colour has nothing to do with the warmth of the day. ‘I got a good mind t’make ‘im go wi’out!’ she says, slapping butter on her teacake so vigorously that the table rocks and teaspoons rattle on the saucers.

‘They must’ve been a bit uncomfortable,’ Jessie suggests in Charlie’s defence. ‘Otherwise he wouldn’t’ve taken them out in the first place. He probably needed some new ones anyway.’

‘That as maybe but it ain’t like ‘e’s goin’ t’get ‘s wear out of ‘em.’

‘Edna!’ Kath splutters with laughter and has to put her tea down. ‘You can’t say things like that!’

‘I just ‘ave.’ Edna retorts in reply. ‘We ain’t none of us gettin’ any younger an’ ‘e could’ve made the other uns last.’

‘So you’re not ever going to buy anything else because you might kick the bucket before they’re worn out?’ Jessie giggles at the idea. ‘Crikey Moses, I’m not going to start darning me drawers in case the only place I’ve got to wear new ones is in me grave.’

‘They don’t cost three ‘undred pound!’

‘No...But..’ Jessie sips her tea thoughtfully. ‘I did pay over two hundred for my outfit for Nathan’s wedding and I might not even get to wear it at all if I keel over before Stephanie’s well enough to set another date. I didn’t rush back to the shop to get my money back. I might even get another one if I see something I like better.’

‘Two ‘undred pounds for a frock?’ Edna splutters aghast. ‘Fools ‘n their money is soon parted,’ she declares with a sniff and chomps into her teacake.

‘It’s a very nice frock, with a nice little jacket.’

‘And that’s what you have to pay for one these days,’ Kath interjects as she tops up her cup. ‘If it’s for a special occasion.’

‘Yes, well...’ Edna sniffs again. ‘She’s got money t’fritter wi’ no begger t’leave it to. We got our Peter t’think on.’

‘Why?’ Jessie looks genuinely astonished. ‘Why go without yourselves just so you can leave him what you manage to save up? He’s got a good job; he’s not without a bob or two. It’d be different if he was struggling but he’s not. ‘

‘That bloomin’ wife on ‘is took ‘im fer every penny she could get! Arf the ‘ouse when ‘e’d paid fer the lot. Ain’t right, it ain’t. She never worked a day in all ‘er married life, not one penny did she put in but ‘e still ‘ad t’buy ‘er out and ‘im with a little ‘un on the way ‘n all.’

‘But he still wouldn’t want you to go without, Edna. I’m sure he wouldn’t. If he was really hard up, he would’ve sold the house and got a smaller one.’

‘That still don’t mean we can throw money about like there ain’t no t’morrer!’ Edna snaps at Kath’s quiet observation and tosses her head. ‘When we go, we mean t’go decent.’

‘But without teeth.’ Jessie titters.