Summer Loving (2 page)

‘What a brilliant idea.’ Jess’s admiration drew a shy smile from the girl. ‘How are the ante-natal classes going?’

‘All right.’ Tegan moved one shoulder. ‘We’re doing breathing.’

Jess laughed. ‘I remember that. We used to work in pairs. Can you keep a straight face?’ Tegan glanced at her grandmother, trying to hold back a grin.

‘Hopeless she is,’ Elsie growled.

‘We were nearly thrown out,’ Jess confided. ‘The midwife teaching us said we weren’t taking it seriously. We were. But as soon as we had to squeeze each other’s legs to signal a contraction then start panting, one of us would get the giggles and we’d end up rolling about. It must have sunk in though because I was puffing like a steam engine through the birth of my twins.’

‘Didn’t you have an epidural or gas and air?’

Jess shook her head. ‘I tried gas but it made me feel queasy.’

‘I don’t want any drugs,’ Tegan said. ‘I’ve read they can harm the baby.’ As Elsie caught her eye, Jess saw amusement and concern.

‘Well, with the walking, and exercises, and breathing, you’re doing all the right things. But first babies can take a while to show up, so it’s good to know pain relief is there if you want it. It’s not weak to use it. Nor is it heroic to refuse. The more relaxed you are, the easier it will be for the baby.’

‘That’s what Nan said.’

‘Your nan is a very sensible woman.’

With a grateful nod at Jess, Elsie elbowed Tegan. ‘See? I aren’t one to say I told you so, but isn’t that exactly what I said?’

‘Oh, Naaaaan.’ They spoke together and shared a smile. Then Elsie turned to Jess.

‘Karen Trewearn had a little boy last week.’

‘We only heard about it this afternoon,’ Tegan added. ‘Others from the class brought their babies in for us to see. But Karen hasn’t been down.’

‘Come on, maid,’ Elsie said. ‘Let’s get on home. I’m chacking for a cuppa tea.’

‘I must give our money to Gill,’ Jess said, lifting the biscuit tin. She waved to Annie who was packing unsold knitted toilet roll covers, tea cosies, and hand-made peg bags into a small battered suitcase, and received a nod in return.

The Fair was winding down. Elderly couples, mothers pushing buggies, fathers with toddlers on their shoulders, and older children clutching items they had bought or prizes they had won moved like a tide towards the gate.

She reached Ben’s hoopla table as he handed an ice-cream tub containing his takings to Gill then continued dismantling the popular stall.

‘Gill? Here’s ours. We’re up on last year.’

‘Thanks, Jess.’ Hair and face protected by a white cotton sunhat, Gill’s pale green shirtwaist looked both fresh and smart. She made space for Ben’s lidded tub in her basket, placed Jess’s biscuit tin on top, and ticked off their names in her notebook. ‘Everyone’s saying the same. We’ve been so lucky with the weather.’ As she walked back towards the tea tent, Jess turned to Ben.

‘You certainly drew a crowd.’

He nodded. ‘Had some lovely prizes we did. And ’tis a good cause.’ A narrow band of pale skin between his clipped hair and the nape of his suntanned neck indicated a recent short-back-and-sides. His open-neck checked shirt and brown trousers were obviously new, and the additional weight on his formerly thin frame spoke of good food and happiness.

‘Has Mor been down? I didn’t see her.’

‘No, she stopped over with Father. He wasn’t up to coming and he dearly like her company. Annie’s good as gold,’ he added, glancing across at the rangy figure in a faded blue shirt, her hair gathered on top of her head in an untidy bun. ‘But –’ he lowered his voice. ‘She got her partic’lar way.’

Jess found his tact touching. ‘She certainly has. All ready for the wedding?’ She was touched to see his colour deepen.

‘Six weeks today. Can’t come soon enough for me. I want everything perfect for her.’

‘We all do, Ben. You’ve both waited a long time.’

‘Listen, I don’t want to hold you up, only I didn’t know who to ask, and Mor think the world of you, so ...’

Jess laid her hand on his arm. ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’

He blew out a breath. ‘’Course you don’t. Sorry. See, what it is, Father have offered me his mother’s engagement ring for Mor. Some pretty it is. Here, I got a photo.’ Pulling a mobile out of his trouser pocket, he caught Jess’s surprise.

‘Mor bought the phone for my birthday, dear of her.’ His expression mirrored the warmth in his voice. A tractor driver working for the Stevens family farm on the edge of the village, his face was weathered by sun and wind. Deep lines fanned from the outer corners of eyes the colour of bluebells.

‘I can let her know what time I’ll get home if she’s cooking tea for me and Father. We sometimes have a bit of chat lunchtime too. ’Tis always long days on the farm in summer. Soon as we finish cutting silage and hay, ’tis time to harvest oats and barley.’ He found the photo he was looking for and turned the phone so Jess could see.

The ring was a sapphire flanked by two diamonds on a gold shank. ‘Ben, that’s beautiful.’

‘I’d have it cleaned and resized so it fit her proper. Only I’m worried Mor might not want something that belonged to someone else. But see, I couldn’t afford nothing so pretty as that.’

‘Was your grandparents’ marriage a happy one, Ben?’

‘Oh, yes.’ He nodded. ‘Thought the world of each other they did. It wasn’t easy for ’em, mind. They lost two boys to the scarlet fever and a baby girl to whooping cough. But with Father and his brother John still home they had to get on with it. Then when John was eighteen he caught pneumonia. There wasn’t the drugs like they got now and he died. Father was the only one left and that’s how he came to have his mother’s ring. So what do you think?’

Jess was unable to imagine how any mother coped with losing four of her five children. ‘Would you like me to talk to Mor? Ask what she thinks of the idea of heirloom rings instead of new ones? I can say it’s something I read about.’

‘Be a proper job that would. Sure you don’t mind?’

‘Of course I don’t. Just between us, if it was me I’d be really proud to wear that ring.’

His smile was tinged with anxiety. ‘I dearly hope Mor think so.’

By eight that evening Jess had spent a couple of hours in the garden, had a shower, eaten a ham and egg salad, and was finishing the dishes when her mobile rang. Recognising the number, she was smiling as she took the call.

‘Hello, Tom. Did you have a good day?’ Tom, his son Chris, Doug, his deputy at the boatyard, and Viv’s son-in-law, Darren, were up at Fowey racing in the workboat class.

‘Fantastic. We were lying third most of the way. But
Lily
lost the wind going round the last marker. We shot through and came in second.’

‘Well done!’

‘We’re going up to the pub for a drink and a meal. We’ll stop there tonight. I hope Doug don’t snore. Fair go all right, did it?’

‘Everyone’s saying it’s been one of the best. The weather was lovely so we had a great turnout. I think all the stalls have made more money than last year. Has Darren enjoyed himself?’

‘Chris and him worked some hard. They didn’t want
Lily
beating us. Why you asking?’

‘Apparently Cissie Cottrell saw Darren kissing Brianna Pellow at the back of the pub car park and thought Viv ought to know.’

‘Aw, hell.’

‘When Jimmy came to pick up the trestles and awning he told Viv that Charlene had been on to him about Darren going sailing instead of staying home with her.’

‘Look, it’s nothing to do with me and I’d just as soon not know, but I can’t say I’m surprised. When Doug was showing him how to coil the sheets to keep them tidy, Darren joked about never doing anything right.’

‘That’s exactly what Jimmy said.’

‘Stay out of it, Jess. You’re better not to give an opinion. Then if it all go tits-up no one can turn round and say,
you said.
I don’t want you being blamed.’

Jess bit her tongue and saved her breath. He was simply trying to protect her. Men were uncomfortable discussing relationships. Women talked and shared. It wasn’t that one was right and the other wrong. They were just different.

‘Jess? You still there?’

‘I am.’

‘Miss me?’

She laughed. ‘You’ve only been gone a day. But yes, I miss you.’

‘Hold that thought. What are you doing tomorrow?’

‘Rob’s on duty so Fiona’s bringing Helen over. Babies grow so fast at this age. I’m really looking forward to seeing her.’

‘Gotta go. Doug have got the drinks in and the waitress is waiting to take our food order.’

‘I’m glad you had such a great race. I hope the sailing is as good tomorrow. When will you get back?’

‘Depends on the wind, but probably late tomorrow evening.’

‘Ring me when you get in, so I know you’re home?’

‘Will do.’ She heard him breathe as he held the phone close to his mouth. ‘I love you, Jess.’

‘I love you, Tom. Stay safe.’

At eleven on Sunday morning, Jess and Fiona sat either side of the pine table with mugs of coffee in front of them. Helen lay on a blanket gurgling as she waved tiny fists at the mobile suspended from a folding frame, one of several toys Fiona had brought to keep the baby occupied.

‘What does Helen think of her new nanny?’

Fiona gazed into the mug she was holding between her hands. ‘They adore each other. Helen’s face lights up and she reaches for Shelley the moment she arrives. It’s such a relief to know she’s happy.’

‘Of course it is. But you’d have to be superhuman not to feel a pang of jealousy.’

Fiona’s head came up then she moved one shoulder in a half-shrug. ‘That sounds pathetic.’

‘I don’t think so. Do you remember how stressed out you were back in the spring? Rob was worried about you.’

Fiona raised her mug, her mouth hidden as she spoke. ‘Was he?’

‘He does know how important your career is to you, Fiona. He was as anxious as you to find someone trustworthy to look after Helen. Now it looks as if you have. Best of all, Shelley doesn’t live in. So when Rob’s not working or on call, you have your home to yourselves.’

‘You’re right. I’m just being silly.’

‘Not at all.’ Jess touched Fiona’s arm briefly, wanting to reassure. Though friendly, theirs had never been an affectionate relationship. That was Fiona’s choice so Jess was careful never to invade her space. ‘Motherhood is an emotional minefield. You could read a whole library of books and still not be prepared for the reality. And every mother’s experience is unique to her.’

As she lowered her mug, Fiona’s smile was bright and open and didn’t reach her eyes. Sensing a barrier erected, Jess wondered why. She was about to ask when Fiona spoke.

‘We had the producer and location manager of a TV company staying at the hotel this week.’ It was a deliberate change of subject, signalling their previous discussion closed.

‘How exciting.’ Bending to pick up Helen who had begun to grizzle, Jess gently rubbed her back. Fiona didn’t reach for the baby who tucked her head into the curve of Jess’s neck. ‘Did they tell you anything about the project?’

––––––––

O
n Monday afternoon Jess was in her back garden picking raspberries. There were enough for her and Tom tonight and he could take some back for Chris. She would use the last of the strawberries picked yesterday in some shortcake. She also had to make three trays of chocolate brownies for the Over-Sixties lunch on Wednesday. But today was definitely not a day to be baking.

A bead of sweat tickled as it slid down her temple. She wiped it away with the back of her hand. Saturday’s blue skies, sunshine, and gentle breeze off the river had been perfect for the Summer Fair. Yesterday had been cloudy and warm. Today was hot and humid, the sky hazy and bleached of colour.

Though she loved Cornwall and could not imagine living anywhere else, being surrounded on three sides by sea created high humidity. In the summer months this could be draining.

Despite her loose shirt, cotton trousers, and straw hat, her skin was damp and her underwear clung uncomfortably. She told herself it could be worse. Last year it had started raining on the day most schools broke up for the summer holidays and continued with barely a break until the week after they went back.

A short distance beyond the top of Jess’s back garden was the side wall of the chapel. Through arched stained glass windows she could hear the sonorous notes of Bach played by Cissie Cottrell. Cissie might be – was – a terrible gossip but she played beautifully. After the piece ended, she launched into the wedding march. That reminded Jess of her promise to Ben. When the organ fell silent she heard her phone through the open back door.

By the time she reached the kitchen and placed the basin of raspberries on the worktop, the ringing had stopped. The answerphone light was blinking but there was no message. Jess dialled 1471, jotted down the number then cleared the line and dialled.

A woman’s voice said, ‘Hello?’

‘Hi, this is Jess Trevanion, I believe you rang me? I was in the garden and couldn’t get to the phone in time.’

‘That’s some good of you to call back. I was going to try again later.’

‘Could I ask who I’m speaking to?’

‘Oh, sorry, my bird. Proper flummixed I am. ’Tis Linda Trewearn.’

Trewearn.
The name rang a bell. Then Jess remembered Tegan saying Karen Trewearn had had a little boy that no one had seen.

‘How can I help, Mrs Trewearn?’

‘Tidn easy to say on the phone.’

‘Are you in the village? If you’d like to come to my place, we can talk face-to-face. I’m free from now until half past six.’ Tom was coming for a meal at seven and she wanted to allow time to shower and change.

‘Be ’andsome that would.’ Her relief was obvious. ‘My boy and his wife just had a baby and I’m helping out till Karen’s back on her feet. She’ve had some time of it, dear of her. You sure you don’t mind me coming now?’

‘No, it’s fine. I’m in the centre of the village. My cottage is one of two behind the pump, the one nearest to the pub.’

Jess had washed her face, pulled a comb through her hair, and filled the kettle, when there was a knock at the door.