Peter Chips sauntered down Pit Lane in the direction of the Village Green; it was that time of year when he honoured Smallwood Village with his presence. Fondly regarded as a lovable rogue by most who new him, he was usually made welcome by them.
Peter had once been a well respected young man who suddenly, for no apparent reason, upped and walked away from his family and friends, infact, he had walked away from his life. Now he had no responsibilities or worries, he just moved from one place to another as the fancy took him always arriving sometime during the summer at Smallwood. He made his way to a bench overlooking the Village Green and sat down, stretched out his legs and took a deep breath of the lovely fresh air. "Ahh, this is the life," he said to himself.
Not everyone took kindly, however, to Peter. Mrs Pringle was at this moment looking out of the Post Office window and she let out an exclamation of disgust when she saw him.
"He's back," she called to her long suffering husband William, "just look at him. Sat there in that tatty old shirt, and just look at his shoes, why they've never seen polish. Plus, I expect he stinks to high heaven like always."
"Yes dear," said Mr Pringle with a sigh, and he went through to the back of the shop and left by way of the back door.
Peter had met quite a lot of "Mrs Pringles" on his travels and took great delight in annoying them and today would be no exception. He sat on the bench watching people going into the Post Office and when he considered there were enough people inside he decided to go and visit.
He walked over and opened the Post Office door with a flourish. "Good Morning Mrs Pringle, it's always such a pleasure to see you. How I remember our last meeting? You were wearing that beautiful blue dress with the little flowers I admired so much. But then you always look a picture," and he stretched out his hands toward her like a very dear friend.
Every eye in the shop turned to look first at Peter and then at Mrs Pringle. She was aghast, she was turning white before their eyes. "How dare you, get out of here, do you hear me you good for nothing," she squealed, all the while backing away from the outstretched hands.
Peter, keeping a smile on his face, continued "Ah, dear lady, I can see you would rather we keep our acquaintance a secret. Never fear," he waved his arms in the air theatrically, "farewell, until we meet again, farewell," and he departed through the door whilst all of Mrs Pringle's customers looked on in amazement. They looked at each other and then started to giggle behind their hands because they all, at some time or another, had been on the receiving end of Mrs. Pringle's gossiping tongue and were glad to see her get her comeuppance.
Now, with difficulty, Mrs Pringle regained her composure, she straightened herself up and, nose in the air, very bravely, in an almost natural tone, asked "Who's next?"
Outside Peter was tittering to himself as he made his way to the baker's shop.
"Hello there, Peter," welcomed Arthur Watson the baker, "nice to see you again."
"Thanks a lot Arthur, that's more than her ladyship next door had to say," and he related exactly what had happened.
Arthur started to laugh loudly until William Pringle stood up from behind one of the bread racks. "Sorry Will," he said.
"Don't mind me," said William, "I'm only the one who's going to have to put up with her when I get back. I can just imagine it now - there's going to be no pacifying her."
"Tell you what Will, come and have a pint of ale with us, it's coming up to lunch time."
"Yes," said Peter, "Old Tom'll probably be there by now." William, glad of any excuse to put off going home agreed, and off they went to the Inn.
Tom was already sat outside with his ale when they arrived so they went to join him. "I'll get a round in." said Arthur, "Same again Tom?"
"Aye, thanks."
They were now on their third pint of ale talking between themselves, telling the odd joke and relating what they had been up to since Peter was last in the village, when two of the servants from Smallwood Hall passed by and were overheard saying, "Have you heard about Mrs Pringle the Postmistress? Seems she's been up to no good with some Romeo character. Been going on for years according to Mrs Johnson."
The four men looked at each other. "Now look what you've done," said William to Peter and they all set off laughing.
Just then Mrs Pringle came out of the Post Office looking for William. When she saw him sitting with Enemy No.1 she came bounding over, enraged and fit to burst.
Now whether it was the ale, or relaxing in the sun with his friends looking on which gave him the courage, we will never know - but William stood up and shouted, "Woman, what is the meaning of this. You have made me the laughing stock of the village with your behaviour." And he took her by the arm dragging her back to the Post Office whilst everyone around the Village Green looked on. She had never been so humiliated in all her life.
Peter decided now was the time to do his rounds. He bade the other two farewell and set off. Each place he visited he received either refreshments or clothing, sometimes a book or a coin, but always at the end of his rounds he was ready to hit the road again.
His last port of call was to see Kate O'Brien. He walked up the path to the door and knocked gently. It took just a few seconds before the door was opened.
"Hello Peter, I saw you coming along the road and hoped you would call in," said Kate. "It's been a long time since you visited."
"Yes," he replied, "Is Emily about?"
"No, she hasn't arrived back from the library yet. Why?"
"I passed through Haversham recently. The Old man's died and Edward is the new Lord Haversham. Just thought you might like to know. Have you told Emily yet, about you-know-what?"
"No, not yet. I just feel things are best left as they are. What good would it do to tell her?"
"She has a right to know Kate."
"Yes, well I'll be the judge of that. Now, will you join me for a drink of tea before you head off on your way again?"
"No thanks Kate, I'll be going now." And with that he left, heading out of the village down Darkes Lane, leaving Kate pondering over his words.
Oh dear! What should she do?
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