The New Rector (Tales From Turnham Malpas) - Plot & Excerpts
She’d worn the same one for four years now. It was made from an old brown coat of her mother’s. Every time Mrs Hipkin had worn it she’d said, ‘This coat will see me out.’ It didn’t. She’d bought another one, but refused to throw the old one away. ‘It’ll come in for something one day,’ she’d maintained. Stocks Day was only two days away and Muriel couldn’t wait. The fair had already arrived, Willie Biggs had cleaned all the trestle tables and had them stacked in the church hall awaiting the big day. Tradition had it that everyone brought their own food for the tea so there was no catering to do, which made the event a pleasure for everyone. Thank goodness Peter had decided to do the Blessing. Muriel wasn’t superstitious, but she had a sneaking feeling that if he hadn’t, all kinds of dreadful things would have happened in the village. Death and destruction, that’s what. The costume, hanging up on its hanger from the door frame, blew gently in the breeze from the garden.
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