(12/13) The Year at Thrush Green Read Online Free PDF Page A

family. It was plain he never would.
    Well, thought Molly robustly, he'd just have to lump it! If it ever came to a choice between her father and her husband, it would be Albert who would go to the wall.

    As the flood water subsided and the ground began to dry out, the people of Thrush Green and Lulling started to venture forth from their homes and to meet their friends again.
    The news, naturally, was of the weather and all its attendant horrors. Tales of leaking roofs, ruined carpets, power cuts, and the prevalent wave of coughs and colds resulting from such conditions, were exchanged with the greatest animation and exaggeration.
    Shopkeepers rejoiced in the return of customers, farmers went out into their fields again, and the Reverend Charles Henstock, vicar of Lulling and rector of Thrush Green, set out with joy to visit those who had been kept from his care by snow and water.
    He decided to walk the mile from his home at St John's vicarage through Lulling High Street to Thrush Green. He did not hurry. Everyone stopped to speak to him. He was hailed by the shopkeepers, the dustmen, the window cleaner and his friends at the garage near the river's bridge.
    Charles Henstock had no enemies. There was an innocence, a modesty, and a genuine love of his fellow men which protected him from malice of any sort.

    He had lived at Thrush Green for many years in a hideous Victorian house which had caused his neighbours, and particularly Edward Young, the architect, considerable pain and loathing.
    Charles was not upset by the ugliness nor the discomfort of his home. He had met his second wife, Dimity, at Thrush Green, and they had lived in their uncomfortable quarters in the greatest harmony, until the house burnt down, to the relief of Edward Young, and Charles was given the living of Lulling, Thrush Green and two other adjoining parishes.
    Some of his closest friends lived at Thrush Green. Harold Shoosmith was a tower of strength when financial affairs had to be tackled. Dr Lovell and Winnie Bailey were two more, and Ella Bembridge was yet another.
    His wife Dimity had lived with Ella for several years, and they were near neighbours and friends during Charles's widowerhood. All three remained close friends.
    On this particular morning, he called at Ella's first. She opened her door, inviting him in, but Charles was a little dismayed to see that she was dressed ready to go out.
    'No, no!' he protested. 'You are just off somewhere, I can see.'
    'Come in for half a minute,' said Ella, in her gruff voice. 'I've got a letter for Dim. From Australia. Came just after Christmas, and I keep forgetting to send it on.'
    She made her way to the kitchen, and Charles followed her. Whilst she rummaged through a dresser drawer which appeared to hold dusters, string, jam-pot covers and a collapsible lacy affair which Charles could not place, he looked happily about him.
    In this very room he had proposed marriage to his dear Dimity. For him it would always be a hallowed place.
    'There we are!' cried Ella triumphantly. She began to shovel the clutter back into the drawer.
    Charles put the letter in his pocket.
    'And what is that?' he asked, as Ella was about to thrust the white lacy bundle into the drawer.
    Ella snapped it open. 'It's a cover to keep off the flies,' she explained. 'Very useful when we have tea in the garden, or leave meat out for second helpings.'
    'Most intriguing,' murmered Charles, his eyes wide with wonder behind his spectacles.
    Ella laughed indulgently at Charle's naivety. Who else would be so impressed by such a simple contrivance?
    They went together through the front door. Ella turned left to Lulling, leaving Charles gazing happily about him, wondering whom to visit next.
    Before him stood the attractive collection of old people's homes, built on the site of his own burnt-out house. Here were several of his friends and parishioners, under the care of Jane and Bill Cartwright who were joint wardens.
    Should he call now, or