A thought struck Sheila. ‘Hang on a minute, love. I’ve a favour to ask.’
Mrs Treedy looked wary. ‘Oh aye?’
‘You know I’ve been organising this, erm, fund for the parish.’ Sheila was as tactful as possible; she didn’t want to offend the woman by using the words ‘poor’ or ‘needy’, given she was on the list to receive money. ‘The thing is, we’re keen to run more events like that soup-and-sandwiches social you were kind enough to help out with. It was so successful at bringing certain folk together, you see.’ She hesitated. ‘Folk who need a helping hand.’
Mrs Treedy’s lips had tightened. ‘Folk like me, you mean?’
‘Well …’ Sheila dithered, and then said frankly, ‘Yes, exactly. You’re a hard worker, and a good mum to your kids. But you still can’t make ends meet, and that’s a fact. Now, you know this village better than I do, and I bet you know more people who might benefit from our fund.’
‘I might,’ Mrs Treedy agreed cautiously.
‘I know you’re busy, bless you, and I don’t want to make your life harder. But if you could give up an hour every few weeks to come to one of our meetings, I’d be ever so grateful.’
Mrs Treedy blinked. ‘To do what, sorry?’
‘I’d like you to sit on the Parish Fund Committee, if you’re interested.’
‘Me? Be on a committee?’ Mrs Treedy’s eyes widened and her mouth fell open. Her grip tightened on her shopping basket. ‘Well, I don’t know … I’ve never been on one of them.’
‘I’d never been on a committee either before I joined the council. Now I’m on several of the bloomin’ things.’ Sheilagave her a reassuring smile. ‘To be honest, it’s just half a dozen people sitting around nattering until it’s time to wet your whistle with a nice cuppa and a biscuit.’
‘But won’t the other committee members mind me coming along?’ Mrs Treedy was once again wary. ‘I don’t know nothing about organising and such … They won’t want someone like me sitting down with them.’
‘Honestly, it was the Chair of the Council who asked me specially to find other villagers for the committee. People like you.’
‘Oh … But what good can I do?’
‘Well, the soup-and-sandwiches event went swimmingly, didn’t it? And you were ever so good at helping me make out a list of folks who could benefit from the fund,’ Sheila reminded her with an encouraging smile. ‘But you could do so much more if you were on the committee, love. We need someone who knows firsthand what the problems are. Will you join us once or twice a month to help us come up with fresh ideas?’
Mrs Treedy smiled. ‘I’d be glad to, Mrs Newton.’
‘Call me Sheila, love,’ she said with a wink, and held the shop door open for her. ‘I’ll let you know when the next committee meeting’s due. And if you need a lift to the parish hall, Mr Bailey will be glad to pick you up in his car.’
Mrs Treedy looked stunned. ‘In that posh Daimler of his? Oh, I say … My Jack’s always going on about that car. Goodness me.’ Mrs Treedy seemed overcome, wandering out of the shop in a daze and almost turning the wrong way before correcting herself and heading home.
‘Another satisfied customer,’ Maggie murmured, watching her go, and they both chuckled.
Sheila went back to the ledger and picked up her pencil. ‘You don’t think Jack’s serious about emigrating, do you?’
‘I don’t know. But you remember what it was like back when we were his age, Shee … Everything had to happen at once. No waiting.’
‘True enough. That don’t make it right, though. A young man like Jack Treedy shouldn’t have to go abroad just to get work.’ Sheila shook her head, deeply troubled. ‘It’ll break his mother’s heart if he goes, that’s for sure.’
Joe Postbridge managed to evade Sheila for the next few days, perhaps guessing that his mother-in-law wanted to speak to him. But eventually, at dinner, Sheila told him, ‘You and I need to have a chat, Joe,’ while passing him the peas. ‘How about tonight?’
‘Ah, erm … One of the ewes has gone into labour,’ he rumbled, helping himself to peas and handing the dish to Grace. ‘I’ve put her in the barn and might be out there with her all night. Sorry.’
Before Sheila could reply to that, Tilly burst out, ‘Oh, I forgot … We had a workman turn up while you were out today, Mr Postbridge, asking to look about the place. He said he was from the General Post Office and would come back in a few days, weather permitting.’
‘The GPO?’ Violet was staring at Joe. ‘Have you gone and signed us up for a telephone?’
‘I have,’ Joe agreed, and hurriedly stuffed his mouth with food before any more explanation could be demanded of him.
Sheila beamed approvingly. ‘Well, I never … Now we’ll be able to speak to Alice and Lily at Christmas.’
‘I wish you’d said,’ Violet told her husband, frowning. ‘What must he have thought? Look at the state of this kitchen. I’ve been so busy getting ready for Christmas, I’m behind with my cleaning.’
‘I’d be happy to help you with the housework, Mrs Postbridge,’ Grace told her. ‘Any time you need a hand, just holler.’
