Summer Loving (3 page)

‘Mrs Trewearn?’ she smiled at the anxious-looking woman on the stone step. ‘I’m Jess. Do come in. Are you enjoying the weather?’

Short and plump, Linda Trewearn’s greying brown bob was held back in a clip from a side parting. ‘’Tis nice to see some sunshine after all that rain we had back in the spring. But I don’t like this heat. Got a job to breathe, you have. Still, at least the washing dries quick.’ Her white polo shirt and olive cotton skirt were spotless.

Jess closed the door. ‘Come and sit down. Do you fancy a cup of tea? Or would you prefer a cold drink?’

Linda Trewearn perched sideways on the edge of the sofa. ‘I don’t want to put you to no trouble –’

‘You’re not. I’ve been in the garden picking fruit and I’m parched.’ She reached into the fridge for a bottle and held it up. ‘From my own blackcurrants. It’s sharp and sweet, perfect when you’re thirsty.’

‘Go on then.’

Handing her a filled glass, Jess sat back against the sofa cushions. Raising her own drink, she took a deep swallow. ‘I needed that.’ She smiled encouragement. ‘How can I help?’

The glass rattled against Linda’s teeth as she drank. Clasping it on her knees, she glanced at Jess. ‘I heard about you from Mavis. Mavis Honey? Think very highly of you she do. She told me what you did for Morwenna Crocker. See, what it is, Father died ten year ago. He looked after Mother until he couldn’t cope with her no more. She got violent, see? She’s in a home now. I visit but she don’t know who I am. I was widowed five year ago. My Roy got up from his chair after Sunday lunch and just dropped.’

‘I’m so sorry. What a dreadful shock.’

Linda nodded. ‘It was. Roy never had a day’s illness in his life. Had a fear of it, he did. So for him, going like that was the best way. Doctor said it was a massive heart attack. He was dead before he hit the floor. I still miss him awful.’ She paused to take a drink.

Jess waited. She had learned that everyone needed to tell their story in their own way and their own time.

‘Anyhow, why I’ve come. Back when I was thirteen I heard my mother and Father’s mother having this terrible row.’ She gazed into her glass. ‘There’d always been bad blood between them but I never knew why. Nor did Father. Or if he did, he never let on. Anyhow, the two of them was in the kitchen.’ She rested one hand on her stomach. ‘I’d just started – you know – and I had awful pains. Mother sent me up bed with an aspirin and a hot water bottle. I must’ve gone to sleep. A couple hours later I woke up and came down to get a drink.

‘I heard Mother and Granny Evans going at each other like cat and dog. Vicious it was. I didn’t want to listen, but it was like I couldn’t move.’ She drew in a deep breath.

‘The long and short of it is that my real father could be an American soldier called Billy-Joe Spencer.’ She held the glass against her flushed cheek.

Jess nodded but remained silent.

‘I loved my dad. I was always closer to him than Mother. Very judgmental she was.’ She looked up at Jess, her expression wry. ‘You should have heard how she used to talk about girls who got in trouble. Brenda Crocker was just as bad. Neither of them had a good word for anyone. Anyhow, I don’t know if Father ever knew about this other man. I didn’t want to hurt him or stir up trouble by asking. So you’re prob’ly wondering why, after all this time, I want to find out if Billy-Joe Spencer was my real father.’ She sipped her drink then straightened her spine.

‘Like I said on the phone, Karen and Scott have just had a baby. Roy and me only had the one child. Thirty-one Scott is. I was forty when I fell with him. We’d given up hope. So to say we was thrilled don’t even begin to describe it. Scott’s got my colouring, brown hair and brown eyes. Karen’s fair with hazel eyes. You know, part brown, part green? Twenty-nine she is. They married five year ago and wanted to start a family right away. But time went on and it didn’t happen. So when Karen finally fell pregnant they was over the moon.’ She took another drink.

‘Twenty-four hours she was in labour. It was some relief when he was finally born, a fine, healthy boy, seven pound ten ounces.’ She raised tear-filled eyes. ‘But he’ve got black hair and brown skin. Before you ask, no, it couldn’t have been a mix-up in the maternity unit. Scott was right there in the delivery room with her when the baby was born.

‘Karen’s in some terrible state. She don’t understand it any more than he do. She swears she’s never even looked at another man and can’t b’lieve Scott would even think she’d go with anyone else. Scott – well, he don’t know which way is up, dear of him. He loves her dearly, but to see this brown baby ... Well, you can’t blame him for being upset. This should be a happy time. Instead –’ she shook her head and wiped away tears with the heel of her hand.

‘Mavis said I should come to you. She said you found Morwenna Crocker’s father and you’d find out the truth.’

Touched by Mavis’s recommendation, Jess fetched a box of tissues from the bookshelf and handed them to Linda. Then, after picking up a notebook and pen, she sat down again.

‘If Karen has been faithful to Scott, then the baby’s colouring must be a throwback to someone in the family.’

Linda nodded. ‘That’s the first thing I thought of. But Karen’s parents swear blind there’s nothing on their side to explain it. Margaret, that’s Karen’s mother, took a night class. She’ve got a chart of both sides of their family back to 1759. It can’t be from my Roy neither. His family on both sides is Cornish back to the granite. So that leaves me.’ She rubbed her forehead. ‘But see, problem is, even if Billy-Joe Spencer
was
my father, he was white.’

‘How can you be sure?’

‘Because if he wasn’t it would have been the talk of the village. No way could Mother have kept that a secret.’

‘Will you give me your mum and dad’s full names and dates of birth?’

‘What do you want they for?’ Linda asked. ‘Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind telling you. I just wondered why you want to know. I aren’t asking for a proper family tree –’

‘I know, and I wasn’t planning to create one. But one thing I’ve learned is that looking back two or three generations, I often find that sons have been named after fathers and grandfathers. So you might have several Edwards, Johns, or Georges in one family. A date of birth lets me work out the age so I can be sure I’ve got the right person.’

Linda sighed. ‘Of course. Thick as two short planks I am. Father was John, John Andrew Evans. He was born in Mawnan village on 9
^th
March 1920. He worked for his uncle, Alfred Evans, who was an undertaker and carpenter. Mother was Diane Alice Cowling. Her birthday was 4
^th
February 1924. Her parents was Doreen and Horace Cowling of Trebleath Farm on the west side of the village.’

While Jess wrote, Linda continued talking.

‘When they was courting, 1943 this was, Mother used to drive a horse and cart delivering vegetables from the farm to the local shop. She carried jars of preserves as well. Home-made blackberry jam and bottled plums, pears and damsons picked from their own trees.

‘The roads was safe and quiet until the Americans came. You know what ’tis like between Penryn and Mawnan, all they blind bends and narrow bits? The soldiers didn’t care about that. Didn’t matter if they was in a jeep, a lorry, or on a motorbike. They drove everywhere flat out and too bad if someone was coming th’ other way.’

‘One day a jeep come round the corner and scared the horse. He reared up and nearly scat the trailer over. Mother fell off. She wasn’t hurt but it gave her some nasty shock. Granfer didn’t want her taking the horse along there no more. But it was the only road to the village. So he bought her a little van and she learned to drive that.

‘I remember Granfer saying that some of the Americans didn’t have the sense they was born with. But others was good as gold. The country boys liked to help out on the farm in their free time. And those who knew about engines was always willing to look at the van or the tractor if it was giving trouble. They’d bring along tins of fruit, butter, or meat and Granny would give them a home-cooked meal. They dearly liked eating with the family and having a few hours away from the camp.’

‘Might Billy-Joe Spencer have been one of the visitors?’ Jess suggested.

Linda shrugged. ‘He could’ve been. I remember Father saying the GIs used to come to dances in the village hall. They taught the girls this here jitterbug, and ’twasn’t long before local bands was playing Glen Miller tunes. So she could’ve met ’n there.

‘Mother and Father had been going steady from June 1943. But the following April they split up. It was over Father going out two or three nights each week. See, undertaking was a reserved occupation. That’s how Father wasn’t called up. Still, him and his Uncle Fred wanted to do their bit so they joined the Home Guard. But Mother asked her friend whose father was in the Home Guard and he said they’d never seen Father or Uncle Fred.

‘When Mother asked him, Father said it wasn’t no great mystery, they was in a different platoon that’s all. I heard all this from Auntie Vera. She said it used to make Mother some teasy when Father wouldn’t tell her where he’d been or what he’d been doing. Mother said if he didn’t trust her then she couldn’t marry ’n. He said he had to follow orders same as if he was in the proper army, and trust worked both ways so how about she trusting him?

‘Anyhow, they made up again and got married in May 1944 and I was born eight months later. The family had always said I was a honeymoon baby and arrived a month early because I was in such a hurry to get here. I never thought nothing of it. Not until I heard Granny rowing with Mother. I wished I’d never heard that row. I didn’t want to think about it, so I put it out of my mind.’

Jess added Uncle Alfred’s name to her notes. It might not be relevant but John’s secrecy and their absences made her curious.

––––––––

A
s Jess put away the last of the supper dishes, Tom poured tea into two mugs. He carried them to the low table in front of the sofa and straightened up.

‘Come and sit down. I want a cuddle. Missed you awful I have.’

Rinsing suds from the sink, Jess hung the tea towel over the rail, dried her hands, and joined him on the sofa. His arm around her, their legs stretched out in front of them, they both heaved a contented sigh.

‘I’m really glad you had such a great time.’ As she reached up, he turned his head and their mouths met in a lingering kiss. When it ended Jess rested her head against his shoulder.

‘The sailing was ’andsome. But I aren’t sorry to be back. So what else have been happening?’

‘I’ve had a new enquiry. Do you know Linda Trewearn? Scott Trewearn’s mother?’

‘I know Scott. He works down at the marina. I b’lieve his wife’s expecting their first child.’

‘She’s had the baby, a little boy.’ As he moved, Jess sat up.

‘She has?’ They both reached for their tea. ‘I’d have thought it would be all round the village by now. Baby all right is it?’

‘The baby’s fine. So is Karen – physically. She’s very tired, not surprising after being in labour for twenty-four hours. But it all went well and she had a healthy boy of seven pounds nine ounces. Only he’s – different.’

Tom stared at her. ‘Different how?’

‘According to Linda he has tight black curls and brown skin.’

‘
What
? Bleddy hell.’

‘The whole village will know soon so I’m not breaking a confidence.’

‘I can’t b’lieve it. Scott think the world of Karen. Always talking about her he is. Why would she –? But she must have.’

‘That’s exactly the conclusion everyone will jump to. But Karen swears Scott is the only man she has ever been with.’

‘Well, she would say that, wouldn’t she?’ He shook his head.

‘That is such a
male
attitude.’

‘What d’you expect, maid? When you get down to it, a man got to take it on trust that any child his wife births is his. Scott must be in some state.’

‘According to Linda he’s in a bad way. But Tom, imagine what it must be like for Karen if she’s telling the truth and no one, not even her own husband, believes her. How must that feel? How would
you
feel?’

‘Can’t they do a DNA test? That would prove if the baby is Scott’s.’

‘Yes, they can. I expect they already have. But even if it confirmed that Scott is the baby’s father, it wouldn’t explain the baby’s colour. Nor would it undo the damage of him accusing her of being unfaithful.’ She saw discomfort follow realisation.

‘So how
did
it happen, then?’

‘That’s why Linda came to see me. She has reason to believe that John Evans, the man she called her dad, might not be her biological father.’ Quickly she recounted what Linda had told her, including her deduction that the black gene must have come through her from the American GI even though he was white.

‘She’s sure he was white?’

Jess shrugged. ‘She had two good reasons for thinking so. The first is that she’s white. The second is that if her mother had been seen with a black GI, people would have talked about it.’

‘So what do she want from you?’

‘An explanation. She wants to know how it could have happened. How two white parents could have a black baby.’ Jess drained her cup and put it on the table.

‘You sure you want to take it on?’

‘I had my doubts,’ Jess admitted. ‘Then I thought about what Karen must be going through. My twins and your Chris were wanted children. Remember the joy and excitement we felt when they were born? Nothing that happened after – not your divorce or Alex’s death and the mess he left – can ever spoil the memory of those moments.’

‘True.’ Tom finished his tea.

‘Karen and Scott tried for years for this baby. But instead of being welcomed with love, the poor little mite is surrounded by tension and suspicion and his arrival has driven a wedge between his parents. Knowing Karen’s having to deal with all that after going through a long and difficult labour, how could I refuse?’

‘You couldn’t, could you, bird.’

‘I searched US military records and found that Billy-Joe Spencer was actually William Joseph Spencer who served in the United States 29
^th
Infantry Division. They were brought over early in 1944 in preparation for the D-Day landings.’