‘Rob, that’s unfair.’ Jess’s grip on the phone tightened. Realising her knuckles were aching she swapped the phone to her other ear and flexed her fingers. ‘I’d love to have Helen for the day. I just can’t manage this week because –’ There was a click. ‘I have commitments too,’ she finished to the sound of the dialling tone.
Anger flared but quickly faded as she replaced the receiver. He sounded stressed and exhausted. Drunks, car smashes, overdoses, fights, and broken bones: the demands on A&E would be non-stop and it was still a week until Christmas Eve.
But her accounting work wasn’t a hobby. Nor were the family trees she compiled. They were paying jobs. She needed the money and had given her word. Though she understood the reason for Rob’s short temper, being on the receiving end of it wasn’t pleasant.
Hearing Tom’s familiar knock lifted her mood. She hurried to open the door.
‘Come in.’ She stood back, happy to see him. Springy fair hair now threaded with silver had been tamed with water and a comb. His dark brown waxed jacket was unzipped revealing a navy crew-neck sweater over a checked shirt and clean jeans. ‘You look smart.’
‘I can scrub up when I need to.’ He grinned, his teeth white against his weathered tan. He leaned in to kiss her cheek. ‘Hello, my bird.’ His lips were soft and warm and he smelled of soap and fresh air. He straightened. ‘Don’t mind do you?’
‘A kiss? No, I don’t mind. It was nice.’
‘I don’t want to mess up this time.’
‘You didn’t mess up. We were young and wanted different things.’ Jess touched his face lightly then crossed the open-plan living room to the kitchen area. ‘We’d better get going. The concert starts at seven thirty and it’s almost ten to. It’ll be a push to get all the food plated up and the crockery set out before the singing starts. Will you bring those?’
He lifted the two shopping bags filled with plastic containers off the worktop.
‘Dear life, Jess. How many are you feeding?’
‘That won’t go far. There are thirty in the choir – thirty-three if you include Margaret the accompanist, conductor Dennis, and our soloist Morwenna. They all eat like gannets after a concert. At least half the village will stay for a cup of tea and a chat. But Viv has promised sandwiches. Morwenna said she’d pick up three dozen splits, and Gill is bringing sausage rolls and a fruitcake. Knowing her she’ll have persuaded some of the WI to donate quiches and tray-bakes.’
‘Good job the rain’s stopped,’ Tom said. ‘People don’t like coming out in the wet. How many tickets have sold?’
‘All of them. Because it’s for charity Gill wouldn’t have let anyone leave the post office without buying one even if they can’t come.’
As Jess went to fetch her pink padded jacket from the hook behind the door, Tom dropped the bags and got there first, holding it so she could push her arms into the sleeves. She felt his hands rest briefly on her shoulders.
Scarred, callused, gentle hands. A man she could trust. But was she ready? Was it too soon? Returning to the village where she had grown up had helped her move on from the shock of Alex’s death and the shattering discovery that he had left her with a re-mortgaged house and no money. She had known Tom since they were children. He’d been her first love. But they had spent nearly three decades apart and people changed. She had. There’d been no choice.
Zipping up her jacket she pulled a pink knitted hat over her cropped curls, picked up the basket holding a deep round cake tin, two jars of jam, and a large tub of cream. As Tom stepped outside she switched off the light.
‘How did it go today?’
‘I’ll tell you later.’
‘I wasn’t asking out of politeness.’ She locked the door.
‘I know, bird. But it’ll take a while and there isn’t time now.’
Jess led the way down the narrow garden path to the road. ‘Will you take Mary-Louise out tomorrow?’ she asked over her shoulder.
‘Depends on the forecast. I’ll need to drive her hard to test the new rig. But I’m not risking it if there’s a gale blowing. The owner is coming down next week. I want him happy so I can get paid.’ He hesitated. ‘Like to come out with me would you?’
‘Sailing?’ The streetlight outside the village shop was off again. The air was cold and clear and against the inky sky stars twinkled like scattered diamonds. One was very bright. ‘Tom, it’s the middle of December.’ She shivered.
‘Put an extra vest on. Come on, girl. It would do you good to have a few hours away from figures and research.’
Briefly tempted Jess remembered Rob’s phone call. ‘I can’t. I’ve got an accounting job and a family tree to finish before Christmas. Ask me again in April.’
‘It’ll go in my new diary, in red,’ he promised.
He stepped in front of her forcing her to stop then leaned down and kissed her cheek again. ‘How did I ever let you go?’
‘Hey, no kissing in the street.’
His teeth flashed as he grinned. ‘How about later?’
‘Don’t push it.’
‘Got to. I don’t want anyone else snapping you up.’
‘Tom, I’m forty-eight and a grandmother. There won’t be a queue.’
‘Go on, lovely you are.’
‘Stop it! If Gill or Viv hear you they’ll be choosing flowers and planning the reception. I know it’s been two years. But sometimes it feels like it all happened yesterday.’
‘Sorry, bird. I don’t mean no harm.’
She smiled at him. ‘I know. And your interest is very flattering –’
‘Flattery be bug – blowed,’ he corrected hastily as they crossed the yard to the village hall’s back door. ‘I meant every word. I want another chance, Jess. But I can wait.’ He pushed a key into the lock.
She nudged him. ‘You always say the right thing.’
‘I’m working on it.’ He bumped her arm gently. ‘And you.’ Inserting the key he turned it both ways. ‘I don’t know why we bother with a lock.’
Jess stepped inside and pressed the switch on the wall at the bottom of a narrow staircase with bare wooden treads. ‘Harry will have been in to switch on the heating. I bet he forgot to lock up again when he went over to the pub.’
Two neon strips flickered and filled the kitchen with bright light. To the left of the kitchen door a narrow wooden staircase led up to a tiny landing and a storage room.
Jess set her basket on the worktop that ran round two walls with cupboards below. A sink with double-draining board stood beneath the window. Between the kitchen and the main body of the hall a wide serving hatch with closed folding doors was set into the wall above the work surface.
‘Give me a minute to fill the urn and I’ll give you a hand to carry down the screens and the lectern.’
‘They’re too heavy –’
‘Not with two of us.’
As Tom started up to the storeroom Jess opened a cupboard, took out a large plastic jug, and held it under the tap. Tipping the water into the urn she refilled the jug.
Tom stopped on the staircase. ‘Jess!’ he hissed. ‘Did you hear that?’
‘Hear what?’ She turned off the tap.
‘Someone’s up there.’ He pointed to the ceiling, his voice low.
‘How do you know?’
‘I heard a girl moaning and a bloke trying to quiet her.’
Jess stared at him trying not to laugh at his obvious discomfort. ‘Do you think they’re …?’
‘How should I know?’ Their eyes met.
‘Well, whoever it is they shouldn’t be up there,’ Jess had lowered her voice to match Tom’s. Tipping the second full jug into the urn, she flicked the switch on the wall and refilled the jug once more. ‘Up you go then.’ She nodded towards the stairs. ‘Margaret needs the screens and Dennis needs the lectern. Stamp your feet and cough loudly. That should give them time to make themselves decent.’
He gripped the worn banister, visibly reluctant. ‘Why me?’
‘You’re a man, you heard them first, and you’re already on the stairs.’
‘God, you’re a hard woman.’
Her smile was wry. ‘I wish.’
At the sound of another muffled moan he grinned. ‘Remember the old boatshed?’
‘I remember the smell. Musty canvas, old rope, varnish, seaweed, and mud.’
‘Happy days though.’
‘Another life. Tom, you have to get them out.’
Clearing his throat loudly he thumped up the wooden treads turning to glare over his shoulder as she snorted, trying to smother a giggle. On the small landing at the top he hesitated then rapped on the wooden door.
‘Come on. Time to go. You shouldn’t even be here.’
Jess heard him open the door. There was a pause. ‘What –?’ He broke off as a man’s voice pleaded.
Curious, Jess crossed to the staircase still holding the knife she was using to slice the cinnamon-flavoured fruit loaf she had baked the previous day. She saw Tom back out, one hand raised.
‘Stay … Don’t … I’ll …’ Pulling the door closed he bolted down, stopping when he saw her. ‘Jess, you need to get up here.’
‘They need to leave. Gill and the others will be arriving any minute.’
‘They aren’t going anywhere. Not without an ambulance. She’s pregnant. I think the baby’s coming.’
‘Now?’ Dropping her knife onto the worktop Jess raced up the stairs. At the top he opened the door and stood back to let her pass.
Near the far wall, in a cleared space among the stacked hard-backed chairs, tables, and two decorated Chinese screens, a young Asian man was kneeling beside an old sofa. He was unshaven. Black hair curled on his wet shirt collar. The lower legs of his trousers and his shoes were soaked. Two coats tossed over a wooden chair dripped onto the bare boards beside two sodden rucksacks. He looked up, his face haggard with exhaustion and anxiety.
‘Please help us. Farah – the baby – it’s not due for three weeks.’
Jess looked from him to the sofa where an olive-skinned, dark-haired girl swathed in a thick grey cardigan over a rust-brown tunic and trousers lay on her side, clutching the young man’s hand. There were dark shadows beneath her closed eyes as she panted for breath. She looked very young and very tired.
The girl’s face tightened and she moaned. As she turned on the sofa Jess saw her swollen belly. She turned to the young man. ‘I’m Jess. This is Tom.’ She crouched beside the girl. ‘Farah? Do you think your baby’s coming?’ The girl nodded.
‘What’s your name?’ Tom asked the young man who hesitated. ‘We’ll help, but we need to know what to call you.’
‘Khalid. I am Malik Khalid Khan.’
‘Where are you from?’
‘Birmingham.’ He must have seen the shock in their exchanged glance. ‘We’re not illegal, we were born in Britain. So were our parents. But they still follow the old traditions.’
‘Khalid,’ Jess said, ‘Farah should be in hospital. Tom, there’s no mobile signal here. Go back to my place and phone for an ambulance –’
‘No!’ the young man shot to his feet.
‘Steady,’ Tom warned. ‘Calm down.’
‘You don’t understand. If Farah goes to hospital there’ll be records, paperwork. No one must know where we are.’
‘She’s in labour,’ Jess said. ‘She needs medical attention.’
‘You think I don’t know that?’ Khalid’s tone was anguished. ‘But the risk’s too great.’
‘What risk? What are you talking about?
‘If they find us they’ll kill us.’
‘Who will?’
‘Farah’s father and brothers. That’s why we’re trying to get to France.’
‘Kill you? Come on. Why would they do that?’
The young man straightened up. ‘You think I’m making this up? Don’t you read the papers? Haven’t you seen the reports about honour killings on TV? For each one on the news there are many more that are hushed up and never investigated.’ He rubbed his face as if to banish the fatigue and strain etched on it.
‘Farah and I met at college and we became close. Her family didn’t know. They wouldn’t have permitted –’ He stopped, took a breath. ‘They arranged her marriage to a man they’d chosen. Her refusal to accept it dishonoured both families. Friends helped us escape to London. We found work and a place to live. We thought we were safe. But someone betrayed us. Her family will not forgive or forget. If we’re found … Please. No hospital.’
Jess heard the back door open. Tom peered down then came back in. ‘Gill and Morwenna.’
Khalid gripped Jess’s arm. ‘You can’t –’
She covered his hand with her own. ‘I have to. There’s a concert tonight in the hall. Those ladies have come to help prepare refreshments. They’re bound to guess something’s going on.’
With a reluctant nod he knelt by the sofa and smoothed wet strands of hair off Farah’s forehead. She bit back a groan.
Jess turned to Tom. ‘I’ll tell Gill and ask her to fetch Annie Rogers. Annie was a midwife,’ she explained to Khalid.
‘She’s been retired twenty years,’ Tom whispered in Jess’s ear.
‘Giving birth hasn’t changed and she’s delivered scores of babies. Besides, if we can’t call the paramedics we need her. Let’s get the lectern down. You can come back for the screens while I tell Gill and Morwenna.’
Before he could reply, Farah compressed her lips, her face contorting as she writhed on the sofa.
Glancing back, Jess saw Khalid kiss her hand then press it to his chest as he stroked her face, murmuring reassurance.
‘Bloody hell,’ Tom muttered.
‘You said it.’ As they carried the lectern carefully down the narrow staircase, Jess heard the strain in Morwenna’s voice.
‘Mother wanted me to stay home.’ She removed a plastic rain hat from her frizzy perm, hung up her coat on one of the pegs near the door, then tugged her black cardigan down over plump hips swathed in a long black skirt. Beneath the cardigan she wore a silky white blouse that emphasised her high colour. ‘She’ve known for weeks that I’m singing solos tonight. I told her she didn’t need to come but I had to.’
Catching Jess’s eye Tom shook his head. ‘Has Brenda Crocker ever seen a happy day?’
‘Hello, Morwenna,’ Jess called over Tom’s head. ‘Did you bring the splits?’
‘On the worktop,’ Morwenna pointed. ‘Start slicing and spreading shall I? My stomach’s in uproar. I’ll be better if I’m doing something.’
‘First will you fill the kettle and boil it?’ At the bottom of the stairs they put the lectern down. Tom ran back up and moments later walked one black-painted folding screen onto the small landing. After fetching the second he quickly closed the door. While he carried each one down, propping them against the banister at the bottom, Jess crossed to the postmistress. Still wearing her heather tweed coat, Gill unloaded four two-litre bottles milk from one basket. From the other she was lifting out cake tins.
‘Harry’s out the front unlocking the doors. Reeking of whisky he is. I thought the rain might put people off. But they’re coming early to get the best seats. The village do dearly love a carol concert.’ She glanced sideways at Jess.
‘All right, bird?’ Her smile faded to a frown. ‘What’s wrong?’
Laying a hand on Gill’s arm, Jess called over her shoulder. ‘Morwenna? Can you come here a minute?’
Morwenna put down the tea caddy and joined them. Keeping an eye on the back door that led outside to the covered way and the stage door Jess spoke quickly. ‘There’s a young couple upstairs in the props room. They aren’t local. The girl is pregnant and the baby is coming.’
Morwenna’s bushy eyebrows shot up. ‘What, now?’
Jess nodded. ‘I think so. But she can’t go to hospital.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because they’re hiding from people who would hurt them.’
‘Haven’t they got family?’
‘It’s their families they’re running away from. Gill, we need Annie. Could you –?’
‘On my way.’ Pulling a scarf from her pocket, Gill tied it over her freshly set hair as she hurried to the door.
‘Morwenna, will you make a pot of tea?’ Jess blew out a breath and turned to the worktop. A muffled groan made them both look up.
‘What if people hear?’ Morwenna whispered, lifting the brown teapot of a shelf beside the sink.
‘We’ll have to make sure they don’t.’ Jess started transferring mince pies from a plastic container to a large blue china plate. ‘If people have started arriving there’ll soon be plenty of noise and chatter in the hall. Once the concert begins we need you to give it all you’ve got and encourage the audience to join in the choruses.’
Panic crossed Morwenna’s face. ‘But there aren’t no song-sheets.’
‘It’s a carol concert, Mor,’ Jess reminded her with a smile. ‘People know most of the words by heart.’
‘’Course they do.’ She clicked her tongue. ‘Don’t mind me. ’Tis just – what with Mother and now this –’
‘The choir will carry them through any verses they aren’t sure of.’ Jess opened a jar of homemade strawberry jam and began spreading it onto the sliced splits.
Downy as a peach, Morwenna’s round face was flushed with excitement and unease as she unscrewed the top on a plastic bottle of milk and peeled off the silver foil. ‘Sing my heart out, I will. But you know what the village is like. Nothing stays secret for long.’
‘It certainly doesn’t,’ Jess murmured.
‘I never asked, Jess. Not even when Mother told me to.’
Jess’s smile was wry. ‘I knew there’d be gossip. During my marriage I lived in a big house in Truro. After my husband died I moved back here to a small cottage. People were bound to wonder where the money had gone.’
Morwenna shook her head. ‘Tom don’t care about that.’
‘Tom is … we’re friends, that’s all.’
‘I should think so too. You’ve knowed each other since you was children. Now he’s divorced and you’re a widow –’
‘Morwenna!’
‘Well, you was close once. We all thought you’d get married.’
‘But we didn’t. Anyway right now there are more important things to think about. We have to keep this secret until the baby’s born and the family can be moved somewhere safe.’
‘After they’re gone I can tell Mother?’
Jess nodded.
‘She’ll be spitting feathers that she didn’t come tonight.’ Morwenna’s brief gleeful smile gave way to anxiety. ‘I’d better make that tea. Be glad of a cup myself. I never had time for one at home.’ She warmed the pot, made the tea, then refilled the kettle and switched it on. ‘Not after making Mother’s, then getting her washed and changed and finding her programme on the TV.’
‘I’ll fix you a plate.’ Jess spooned clotted cream from a tub onto the jam-topped splits. ‘You’ll need your strength tonight, and so will we.’
Opening a cupboard beneath the wide worktop above the serving hatch, Morwenna lifted out short stacks of saucers followed by every cup she could find. They rattled in her unsteady hands. ‘We’ll never have enough. Gill said the concert is sold out. There’s all the choir and –’
‘We’ll have plenty,’ Jess reassured. ‘Not everyone will stay on afterwards. We’ll ask those who are first in the queue to bring their cups back to the hatch when they’ve finished so they can be washed up ready for those who come up later.’
Tom came back and picked up the second screen. ‘Hall’s starting to fill. Want me to come back when I’ve set these up for Margaret?’
‘You’re a gem.’
‘Hold that thought.’
Opening the second of Gill’s plastic containers, Jess lifted out a sausage roll and put it on a small plate, added a split topped with jam and cream, and handed them to Morwenna.
‘Pull out one of those stools and sit for a minute while you eat this. I’ll pour the tea.’
As she was speaking, Gill came in through the back door carrying two plastic bags.
‘What’s all that? Jess asked.
‘Towels, bin bags, newspapers, and an old sheet,’ Annie Rogers said following Gill inside.
‘Evening, Jess. Morwenna, you’re looking some smart.’ Annie dropped a large scuffed black leather bag and shrugged off her raincoat to reveal a pair of black stretch trousers covered with snags and cat hairs, topped by a baggy red jumper over a red tartan shirt. Her grey hair was twisted up into a cottage-loaf bun on top of her head, a hairstyle she hadn’t altered in forty years.
‘Thanks for coming, Annie.’ Jess passed the coat to Gill who hung hers and Annie’s in the corner cupboard out of sight.
‘I went to the nativity play up at the school this afternoon, that’s how I wasn’t coming tonight. Is it right what Gill said? This couple is running from family?’
Jess nodded. ‘They were born in this country but their background is Asian and their parents are traditional. Farah refused an arranged marriage. She and Khalid were trying to leave the country because they’re afraid her father and brothers will kill her for dishonouring the family.’
Annie gave a snort of disgust. ‘Don’t see much honour in murdering your own daughter. Right, I need a basin, hot and cold water, and a bucket.’
‘D’you want an apron? Jess reached towards a drawer.
‘Brought my own.’ Lifting the bags, Annie started up the stairs. ‘That kettle boiled? Bring it up along with the rest, soon as you can.’
Another muffled moan sent Jess across the kitchen. From the cupboard under the sink she fetched a bucket. In it she placed the largest plastic bowl she could find.
Morwenna poured three cups of tea, bit into a sausage roll, and continued spreading jam on the rest of the splits.
Gill glanced up from arranging slices of quiche on more blue plates. ‘If her labour’s started – Farah is it? Pretty name. She won’t want anything. But the lad might be glad of a hot drink and a bite to eat.’
Jess could have kicked herself. ‘I never thought.’
‘Dear life, girl, you can’t think of everything. You take those things to Annie. I’ll set a tray.’ She turned as Tom came in through the hall door. ‘Tom, if you’ve got the keys, lock both doors. But let Viv in when she comes. Anyone who’s brought food can pass it through the hatch.’
With a nod and a brief glance at Jess that made her feel warm inside, Tom went out through the back door.
There he was, doing what was asked without arguing or needing to take charge. She knew from observation and experience that was rare in a man. Filling a tall enamel jug with cold water she hurried upstairs.
Khalid had pulled out an upright chair and was sitting by Farah’s head with his back to Annie, who had a stethoscope pressed to the taut mound of Farah’s belly.
Setting down bucket, basin, and jug within Annie’s reach, Jess straightened up. ‘Is there anything else you need?’
Annie removed the earpieces and hooked them around her neck. ‘Another large basin and some supper for young mister here.’
‘Gill’s getting a tray ready.’
Khalid looked round, features tight, eyes narrowed in anger that couldn’t hide his fear. ‘How can I eat?’
‘You’ll be no good to your girl if you don’t,’ Annie said. ‘She needs you to be strong. So does this baby. You got trouble enough. Don’t go looking for more.’ She paused, her abrupt manner softening a fraction. ‘Come on, my ’andsome, a blind man could see you’re hungry.’
Annie’s flat gaze held Khalid’s stormy one. He broke first and turned his head.
‘What about baby clothes?’ Jess asked. ‘Khalid?’
‘There are a few things in Farah’s rucksack. We had much more but –’ His eyes filling, he swallowed hard.
‘Never mind,’ Jess said. ‘I bought a couple of sleep suits and vests for my little granddaughter. As soon as the concert starts I’ll run home and fetch them.’ Waving away his thanks, she crossed to the door.
‘Jess,’ Annie stopped her. ‘I’ll need a pack of pads, large size, and disposable nappies.’
As a groan was forced from Farah’s lips, Jess glanced at her watch. 7.25. She hoped the concert started on time.
In the kitchen Gill had folded back one of the hatch doors. Leaning forward she shouted, ‘Anyone who has brought refreshments bring them here to me.’
Several women hurried over with tins and Tupperware but didn’t linger, anxious to return to their seats.
The back door opened admitting Tom and the sound of male voices laughing and bantering.
‘The choir’s going in through the stage door,’ he said searching the bunch of keys.
‘Hang on, Tom,’ Gill said. ‘Don’t lock our soloist in. We need her out there tonight.’
Draining her cup, Morwenna wiped her mouth with a hanky that she tucked up her sleeve. Unbuttoning her cardigan she pulled it off.
‘Give it to me,’ Gill said. ‘I’ll put it with our coats. Now you go out there and lift the roof off.’
‘Here,’ Jess held out a half-full glass of water. ‘Leave it in the wings. If it’s there you won’t need it.’
Settling the lapels of her cream blouse Morwenna took a deep breath and lifted her chin. Beaming at Jess and Gill she took the glass. ‘We’ll give that baby a proper welcome.’
Viv arrived as Morwenna was leaving. ‘All right, Mor? How’s your mother?’
‘Same as usual.’
Viv nodded in sympathy. ‘Sorry I’m late,’ she said as Tom relocked the kitchen door. ‘Jimmy was late home then the cat was sick.’ Short and barrel-shaped, Viv placed a large square biscuit tin on the stairs and shrugged off a gold anorak with a fur-lined hood, revealing purple leggings and a tomato red sweatshirt.
Gill blinked. ‘Dear life, Viv. Where’s my dark glasses? Stop traffic, you would.’
‘Go on, you’re just jealous.’ Viv picked up the tin and brought it to the worktop. ‘I like red. It cheers me up.’
‘We could do with some of that tonight,’ Tom said, climbing the stairs ahead of Jess who was carrying the tray Gill had prepared.
‘Why? What’s –’
‘You tell her, Gill,’ Jess said over her shoulder.
As well as two plates of food, one savoury one sweet, and a cup of tea for Khalid, the tray also held one for Annie and a glass of cold water and a spoon so Khalid could feed Farah sips.
Tom opened the door, pulling it closed again as soon as Jess had stepped inside. Khalid jumped to his feet and lifted another hard wooden chair from the pile, clearly relieved to have something to do. Jess placed the tray on it then carried one cup and the glass of water to Annie who was spreading an old towel over a wad of open newspapers on a black bin bag.
‘Thanks, Jess. Put them back out of the way so I don’t knock them over.’ She smiled at Farah. ‘Roll over a minute, my bird, so I can slide this underneath you. And back again. There, that’s handsome.’ She covered Farah with the blanket.
Jess crouched by Khalid, who had turned his chair so he could not see Farah’s body or Annie. She felt for him. Not every man would choose to attend the birth of his child. Not every woman wanted her husband or partner present.
‘Why don’t you go and sit over there while you eat.’ She nodded towards a space behind the door. ‘Farah couldn’t be better looked after. Annie has delivered hundreds of babies.’
‘I should not be here, seeing this,’ he whispered.
‘Would you like to go downstairs with Gill, Viv, and Tom? The doors are locked. No one else can come in.’
‘No, I can’t leave her. But watching her suffer –’
‘Come on,’ Jess slipped her hand under his arm, guided him across to the space behind the door and, pulling a chair around pushed him onto it.
Through two closed doors she heard a burst of applause. Margaret Hitchens played the introductory bars to ‘Silent Night’. Hearing Morwenna’s clear soprano, recalling the excitement on her face as she promised to sing her heart out, Jess felt a thickness in her throat.
Though the past two years had seen her life change out of all recognition, she had so much to be grateful for.
Her gaze fell on a pile of folded materials of different colours and textures. Alongside were coils of frayed rope removed when those drawing the heavy stage curtains were replaced and kept in case one day they might be of use.
‘Annie, how about I rig up a curtain to give you and Farah some privacy?’
Annie’s gaze flicked towards Khalid who was sitting bent forward, elbows on his thighs, head in his hands. She gave a brief nod. Raising her voice she spoke to Khalid. ‘That food won’t eat itself, boy. I want to see those plates clean. I can’t be doing with you passing out.’
He jerked upright. ‘I won’t. I –’
‘You’ll eat the supper these ladies have been good enough to prepare for you. All right?’
‘Yes, Miss – er … Mrs –’
‘Annie will do just fine. Well? What are you waiting for?’
Catching her lower lip between her teeth to hold back a grin, Jess tied one end of the rope to a curved wrought iron coat hook, the innermost of six mounted on a painted board nailed to the wall alongside the window. Annie had all the finesse of a steamroller. But beneath her blunt manner her heart was marshmallow.
Crossing the room, Jess looped the rope around an old gas mantle bracket fixed to the inner wall. Pulling it tight and tying it off, she let the remaining rope hang down the wall and pool on the floor. Unfolding one of the curtains with care to avoid releasing too much dust she hung it over the taut line. Now Farah, Annie, and the sofa were hidden from anyone entering the room. Jess turned to reach for a second curtain but Khalid, hastily swallowing a mouthful of cheese and onion quiche, had already picked it up.
Behind the curtain Farah groaned, her voice rising.
‘Why are you being so kind?’ he whispered as they hung faded crimson velvet over the rope and pulled it straight.
‘You needed help.’
‘You don’t know us.’
‘What’s that got to do with anything? I have children, so do Tom and Viv. Gill lost a son to meningitis. Before Annie retired she delivered many of the children born in this village. Most of them are down in the hall with their families singing carols to celebrate the birth of Jesus. In an hour or two you and Farah won’t be a couple, you’ll be a family. You can make your own traditions.’ She patted his arm and grinned. ‘This may not be where you’d have chosen for your baby to be born. But it’s better than a stable.’
She drew him back to his chair. ‘Sit down. Finish your supper. If you don’t mind me asking, why did you come to Cornwall?’
‘We didn’t plan to. We caught a train to Plymouth for the Roscoff ferry where friends would meet us.’
‘What went wrong?’
Khalid raked his hair. ‘I had checked the timetable so I knew that in December there are no sailings at the beginning of the week. We intended to catch the Thursday evening one. But the booking clerk told us that it had been cancelled because of a strike at Roscoff. We went to the cafeteria to decide what to do. Farah wasn’t feeling well.’
‘I’m not surprised, poor girl.’
‘She’s had contractions before, especially this past month. There’s a name –’ he broke off, frowning as he tried to remember.
‘Braxton Hicks?’
Khalid nodded. ‘We hoped her pains were just stress. Then a lorry driver came over. He’d heard us talking to the booking clerk. He told us he lived in Cornwall and was on his way home. He said if we were willing to pay he knew someone with a boat who would take us over to France.’
About to speak, Jess bit her tongue instead. Khalid nodded.
‘I know. Why would we trust him? But I was desperate. He dropped us off by the pub car park. He said to wait under the trees and someone would come. He said the boatman would need to buy fuel to take us across. I gave him £40 and said we’d pay the rest once we reached France. We waited and waited. It was raining and Farah’s pains were coming more often. I didn’t want to go into the pub, in a small place people remember strangers, but we needed shelter. Then I saw a man go into the hall and lights came on. He’d left the back door open and I could hear him clattering about at the far end. So we came up here. Then the lights went off and he left.’
‘Lucky for you the carol concert was tonight,’ Jess said.
He shuddered. ‘I never should have – but I was so afraid – Farah is everything to me. If anything happens –’
‘You’re safe. No one knows where you are.’
‘The lorry driver –’
‘Forget him.’ He’ll have forgotten you. She kept the thought to herself. ‘Would you like anything more to eat?’
He shook his head. ‘Maybe later.’
‘Once this baby arrives Farah will be ravenous. I know I was. I’ll put a couple of plates aside.’ She put her head round the curtain as Farah sobbed in a breath and opened her eyes.
‘Getting stronger are they, bird?’ Annie glanced up from tearing the sheet into four pieces. ‘Like a drop of water?’
Farah nodded, the tip of her tongue snaking out to moisten her lips.
‘Would you, Jess? Not too much.’
Jess held the glass to the girl’s lips while she took a mouthful.
‘It hurts,’ Farah whispered.
‘Once your baby’s here you’ll forget all about this.’ Annie unhooked the stethoscope from her neck and gently fitted the earpieces in Farah’s ears then held the round end to the girl’s belly. ‘Hear that? It’s your baby’s heart beating.’
Wonder softened the girl’s strained features. ‘Oh!’ she breathed. ‘It’s so fast, like a bird fluttering.’ Then she caught her breath, her eyes closing as another contraction took hold.
Gently Annie removed the stethoscope and put it aside. ‘Time to get you ready.’ She washed and dried her hands, tipped the used water into the bucket, then rinsed and refilled the basin. Handing both kettle and jug to Jess she snapped on a pair of latex gloves.
‘Back in a minute.’ Jess flashed Khalid a quick smile then closed the door and ran downstairs.
‘How’s it going?’ Tom looked round from plating sandwiches.
‘OK I think. I’d forgotten what hard work childbirth is, though.’
‘Good job too,’ Viv said. ‘If you remembered the pain, you’d never have more than one.’
‘Annie bullied Khalid into eating something,’ Jess said, busy at the sink. ‘Gill, have you got the shop key in your bag?’
‘Annie need something, does she?’
‘Disposable nappies and pads for Farah.’
Gill grabbed her coat and Tom handed Viv the backdoor key.
‘Let her out, Viv.’ Tom put his arms around Jess. ‘Catch your breath a minute.’
About to push him away, she let her head drop onto his shoulder.
‘Doing a grand job, you are,’ he murmured. His breath was warm on her neck.
‘What’ll happen to them, Tom? They can’t stay here.’
‘I’ve been thinking about that. Tell you later,’ he said as she lifted her head. He planted a kiss on her cheek.
‘Here, put her down,’ Viv said. ‘You haven’t finished plating up they sandwiches yet.’
‘I’m some proud of you,’ he murmured in Jess’s ear. ‘Go on. You don’t want to keep Annie waiting.’
Back upstairs Jess put down the kettle and jug and helped raise Farah while Annie removed the wet pad of towel-covered newspapers, replacing it with another covered with a large square of clean sheet.
‘I’ll run home and fetch those baby clothes. I won’t be long.’
‘Don’t rush,’ Annie warned. ‘It’s black as your father’s hat out there. I don’t want you tripping over. I got enough to do.’
Downstairs Jess grabbed her jacket.
‘I’ll come with you,’ Tom said.
‘There’s no need, I’ll only be –’
‘I’ll come with you,’ Tom repeated. He handed the keys to Viv. ‘Gill should be back any minute.’
The night air was cold and Jess smelled wood smoke then the scents of beer and frying onions as they hurried past the pub.
Tom waited inside the front door as she grabbed a plastic bag from the cupboard and ran upstairs to the spare bedroom. From the top drawer of the chest she took two tiny white sleep suits and vests, then picked out a couple of towels from the airing cupboard, stuffing them into the bag as she hurried down.
As they crossed the yard Jess heard Morwenna sing the first two lines of ‘Ding Dong Merrily on High,’ then the choir and the rest of the village joined in the chorus.
Back inside, the door relocked, Jess handed her coat to Tom as Gill came downstairs carrying the kettle and jug.
‘Tom, go and talk to that boy. He’s fretting and Annie have got her hands full.’
‘Me?’
‘You’re a father,’ Jess reminded him. ‘You’ve been through this. Khalid is in strange place among people he doesn’t know. He’s probably blaming himself for everything that’s gone wrong.’
‘I can’t go in there,’ he blurted. ‘Not while she’s – it’s private.’
‘You can’t see anything –’ Gill began.
‘I rigged up a curtain,’ Jess explained. ‘It’s no different to being on a hospital ward.’
‘Not much it isn’t.’ But he followed her up. Jess opened the door. Indicating the faded velvet, she bit back a grin at the relief on his face.
As Khalid looked up, Tom picked up two chairs and carried them out onto the small landing.
‘Come on, we’ll leave the women to it. They know what they’re doing. Your girl is in safe hands.’
‘I can’t –’
‘Listen, it’ll be harder for her if she’s afraid to make a sound in case you panic. But you’re here ready to go in when it’s time. Had something to eat, have you?’
As the door closed Jess felt herself soften inside. When it came to steamrollers there was little to choose between Tom and Annie.
‘It’s me, Annie. I’ve brought the baby clothes and a couple more towels.’
‘Come in, Jess. Here, sit and talk to Farah for a minute.
Jess sat on the small hard chair close to Farah’s head, facing her. ‘Would you like a drop of water?’
Farah moved her head on the cushion Annie had covered with a torn piece of clean sheet. ‘Khalid?’ she asked in a raspy voice.
‘He’s out on the landing. Tom is keeping him company. Can you hear the singing?’ The choir had moved on to ‘Once in Royal David’s City’. Farah nodded. ‘Then you can imagine how loud it is down in the hall.’
‘No one will hear me?’
Jess shook her head. ‘No.’
Farah relaxed. Then her face crumpled as another contraction began. Jess grabbed her hand. ‘Don’t try to hold it in. Breathe as if you’ve been running. Like this.’ Jess panted. As the contraction progressed, Farah’s grip tightened. ‘Come on,’ Jess urged. ‘I learned to do it when I had my twins. I promise it will help.’ With Farah’s liquid brown eyes fixed on hers, they panted.
The contraction subsided and Jess took a deep breath. Farah did the same. But as her mouth curved in a tired smile, tears slid from the outer corners of her eyes and soaked into the sheet.
Jess’s throat ached in sympathy. She’d been alone when the twins were born. Alex had been abroad and her gran too ill to come to the hospital. Though Farah was giving birth among strangers, Khalid was feet away. That he loved her was obvious, and he was suffering on her behalf.
‘You’re doing brilliantly,’ Jess encouraged. ‘Isn’t she, Annie?’
‘Proper job,’ Annie said, setting out scissors and other items on a small tray then tearing open a white paper packet.
‘That’s a yes,’ Jess whispered, smoothing sweat-damp hair back from the girl’s forehead.
‘Won’t be long now, my bird,’ Annie said.
During the next half-hour the contractions grew stronger and more frequent. Farah clutched Jess’s hand as they both blew quick breaths through pursed lips.
Then suddenly Farah curled forward, her head lifting off the cushion as she strained.
Jess swivelled round, slid her arm under Farah’s shoulders to support her, and saw Farah’s lips draw back from her teeth as a guttural sound emerged from her throat.
‘Hold on, bird, just a minute,’ Annie’s gloved hands were busy between Farah’s raised knees. ‘All right, push now. That’s right, my sweetheart. And one more.’
Farah hunched and groaned, trembling with effort.
Jess saw a smile spread over Annie’s face. ‘There we are. You’ve got a handsome baby boy.’
Wonder smoothed all the pain from Farah’s face as Annie gave the baby a little shake. The tiny mouth opened and a bleat of protest emerged.
‘Got a fine pair of lungs on him,’ Annie said, laying the small pink slippery body on Farah’s deflated stomach.
‘Oh! Isn’t he beautiful?’ Farah breathed.
Her eyes stinging, Jess nodded, flexing the hand Farah had crushed. ‘He’s perfect.’
From downstairs the sound of ‘While Shepherds Watched Their Flocks By Night’ thundered through the closed doors. Jess thought of Morwenna singing her heart out and blinked away tears.
She, Tom, and Morwenna had been in the same class at the village school. But as far as Jess knew Morwenna had never had a boyfriend and was now unlikely ever to have a child. Her life revolved around her job at a builder’s merchants in the town two miles away, the choir, and looking after her endlessly complaining mother.
Looking at Farah’s glowing face as she gently stroked her son’s damp swirl of black hair with a careful finger, Jess thought of her own sons. Sam in Australia teaching at a sports academy, spending every spare moment surfing, and Rob, married with a baby girl and currently on rotation in A&E at the city hospital.
‘Jess,’ Farah’s soft voice broke into her thoughts. ‘Will you tell Khalid? He’s been so worried.’
Annie glanced up. ‘He can come in and see for hisself soon as I’ve made you comfortable and tidied things away. Jess, this young lady could do with something to eat and a cup of tea. I wouldn’t mind one myself.’
As Jess opened the door, Khalid and Tom both jumped to their feet.
‘Khalid, you have a fine baby boy.’
‘A son?’ Khalid’s voice cracked. ‘Farah?’
‘She’s fine. Tired but very happy and waiting to see you. Annie is just making her comfortable.’ She glanced down the stairs and saw Gill and Viv peering up.
‘Everything all right?’ Gill asked.
Khalid leaned forward, his tired face alight with pride and relief. ‘We have a son.’
‘That’s wonderful. Congratulations,’ Gill said. ‘Your girl all right, is she?’
He nodded. ‘Jess says they are both fine. I will see them soon.’
‘Proper job, my ’andsome,’ Viv beamed.
‘Come on,’ Gill nudged her. “Oh Come All Ye Faithful” was the last carol. Be like feeding time at the zoo in a minute.’ She switched off the bubbling urn, rinsed two huge brown teapots, added teabags, then filled them with boiling water. Viv carried the last loaded plate to the hatch worktop.
Khalid seized Jess’s hand between both of his. ‘Thank you so much.’ Then turning he grabbed Tom’s hand and shook it hard. ‘Without your kindness … We can never –’
‘Baby got here safe and mother’s fine,’ Tom grinned. ‘That’s enough for me.’
‘Me too,’ Jess nodded. ‘I’m sorry you had to run away. But I’m glad you ended up here. I wouldn’t have missed this for anything. Would you like another cup of tea? I’m going to get one for Annie and some supper for Farah.’
He shook his head. ‘Will Annie be long, do you think?’ As he spoke the door opened and Annie beamed at him.
‘In you come. You give your girl a kiss then you can watch me bath your son.’
As the door closed behind him, Jess walked down the stairs with Tom close behind. At the bottom he put his arm around her shoulders.
‘Been some night, hasn’t it? And not over yet.’
Applause erupted, loud and prolonged, on the other side of the hatch.
‘Viv,’ Jess leapt forward. ‘Don’t open the hatch for a minute. I’ve got to take –’
‘Don’t fret, bird,’ Gill called. ‘Tray’s ready. Two cups of tea and two plates filled with a bit of everything.’ She thrust it into Jess’s hands. ‘Up you go.’
Viv waited for Jess to come down and as soon as she stepped off the bottom stair, unbolted the hatch and folded the doors back. Noise burst into the kitchen like a breaking wave.
While Viv and Gill poured tea and pushed cups and saucers through the hatch, Tom replaced empty plates with others piled high with sandwiches, sausage rolls, portions of quiche, scones topped with jam and cream, and slices of various cakes.
Filling the sink with hot soapy water, Jess started to wash up, her euphoria giving way to concern.
‘Hey, don’t look so worried.’ Tom bumped her shoulder with his. ‘Where’s the tea towels?’
‘Second drawer down,’ she nodded, her hands deep in the frothy water. ‘Tom, they can’t stay here.’
‘They’ll have to until everyone’s gone home and the pub’s shut for the night.’ Drying the cups and saucers he put them on the cleared worktop ready for Gill, keeping his back to the open hatch so no one but Jess could hear him. ‘Can I phone from your place? The friends they were meeting in France ought to be told what’s happened. And I need to make another call.’
Jess turned her head, looked into his eyes. ‘You’re not thinking of taking them across on Marie-Louise?’
He grinned. ‘You always were sharp as a tack.’ The grin faded. ‘I’ll be straight with you. I did think about it –’
‘Tom, you can’t.’
‘Let me finish, woman,’ he said mildly. ‘I said I thought about it. But it’s too risky. They’ve got passports but the baby hasn’t. If we arrived at Roscoff or Cherbourg and they haven’t got paperwork proving the baby is theirs, the border police and God knows who else would be called in and they could be charged with kidnap or child trafficking.’
His words hit Jess like a punch, stopping her breath. ‘No!’
‘If that happened it would wreck any hope of keeping their whereabouts secret. It also crossed my mind to sail over to some quiet cove on the Brittany coast and put them ashore. But if they were picked up it would mean police, courts, all kinds of trouble. They’d likely be put on the first ferry or flight back to the UK.’
Jess was awed. ‘You certainly have thought about it.’
‘I’m not just a pretty face.’
‘Jess!’ Jess looked round and saw Gill nod towards Morwenna who had slipped into the kitchen through the back door that Viv immediately relocked. She was carrying a man’s unturned cap in front of her. Her face was flushed deep rose and her eyes were shining. Recognising the cap as Dennis’s, Jess saw it was full of money.
‘What’s this?’
‘I took up a collection. I said it was for the homeless. Well it is.’
Cupping her face, Tom kissed her soundly. ‘You are a jewel.’ She blushed crimson.
Jess wiped her hands on Tom’s tea towel. ‘Mor, come with me.’
‘Hang on a minute.’ He poured the money into a plastic tub and handed it to Morwenna. ‘Dennis will want his cap.’
Jess pushed Morwenna towards the stairs. ‘Don’t be long,’ she murmured to Tom. ‘I want to know what you’re planning.’
On the landing she knocked then opened the door. ‘May we come in?’ Annie had pushed the makeshift curtain back towards the window removing the barrier.
Khalid rose from his chair facing Farah. ‘The lady singer,’ he smiled. ‘Come and meet our son.’
A lump swelled in Jess’s throat at the expression on Morwenna’s face as she looked down at the baby in Farah’s arms.
‘Oh, the dear of him! Isn’t he just handsome?’ She thrust the tub into Khalid’s hands but spoke to Farah. ‘’Tisn’t much but it all helps, don’t it?’
Jess saw shock blank Khalid’s face as he looked from the money to Morwenna.
‘What is it?’ Farah asked. Khalid showed her. ‘Oh!’ Tears spilled down Farah’s cheeks but her smile was radiant. ‘When he’s older I will tell him about the night he was born. You’ve all been so kind.’ She lifted the baby to kiss him, her shoulders shaking. Putting the tub down, Khalid crouched beside her, his head close to hers as he stroked her hair.
‘Come on, Mor,’ Jess drew her towards the door. ‘You must be parched. Gill’s got a cup of tea waiting for you downstairs. We heard your solos.’
‘You did?’ Morwenna glanced back at couple and baby one final time. Then Jess closed the door and they started down to the kitchen.
‘Oh damn,’ Jess muttered seeing Bessie Richards at the hatch, her eyes bright with curiosity as she heaped a plate with different types of cake.
‘What you doing up there?’
‘Trying to make space for Margaret’s screens,’ Jess improvised before Morwenna could speak. ‘There isn’t room behind the stage.’
‘How’s that then?’
‘Harry’s storing the card tables back there. He wants them easier to reach.’
‘Well, make sure you get him to carry them up. You shouldn’t have to do it.’ She waddled away with her full plate and Jess released the breath she’d been holding.
Reaching the bottom, Morwenna hurried over to Gill. ‘Isn’t he just gorgeous? Dear little soul. I’ve never seen a newborn. He’s so tiny. Those little hands and that lovely black hair.’
‘My Mark was born with a lovely thatch of hair like that. He kept it too.’ Gill pulled out a stool and patted it. ‘Take the weight off, Mor. Tea’s fresh.’ She moved the steaming cup forward then put a plate of food beside it. ‘You did some wonderful job tonight. We could hear you. Sounded beautiful you did.’
As Viv chatted to people returning empty cups and plates to the hatch, Jess joined Tom at the sink.
‘What did she think of the baby?’ he asked as she picked up the tea towel.
‘The look on her face –’ Jess looked away shaking her head as she swallowed hard.
‘Been one hell of an evening hasn’t it, girl?’
Taking a deep breath Jess wiped her eyes. ‘So, if you can’t take them across by boat –’
‘I could, but not without papers for the baby. Besides, sailing over in Marie-Louise could take up to twenty-four hours depending on winds and where we landed. Better to fly them across.’
Jess clutched a half-wiped plate to her chest. ‘Fly?’
‘Did you ever meet Roger Tregenna?’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘His father used to over-winter his boat at the yard. I’ve known him years. He’s a flying instructor up at Bodmin Airfield.’
‘I’ve seen those little planes flying from Land’s End airport. But they’re only two-seaters.’
‘Not Roger’s. He does charter work as well. He’s got a four-seater Cessna Skyhawk.’
‘Even assuming he agrees –’
‘I’ll persuade him. He owes me a favour.’
‘Yes but how much will it cost? We can’t expect him to do it for free.’
Tom lifted one shoulder. ‘I won’t know till I ask.’
‘Go and phone him. The front door key is in my right-hand pocket. While you’re there you’d better phone Khalid’s friends and tell them what’s happened.’
Wiping his hands on the tea towel, he shrugged into his jacket, held up the key, then took the stairs two at a time. Moments later he hurried down, pushing a piece of paper into his pocket.
‘Oi, where’re you skiving off to?’ Gill demanded as she picked up a stack of dirty dishes and started towards the sink. Jess saw him pause, speaking softly. Gill nodded towards the kitchen door. ‘Oh, right. Go on then.’
Morwenna carried her plate and cup to Jess. ‘Want me to dry them do you?’
‘No, it’s all right, Mor. Most of it’s done. You’d better get on home. You did a brilliant job tonight.’
‘I’d sooner stay.’ There was yearning on her face. Then she sighed and went to fetch her coat. ‘But Mother will fret if I’m late.’ She glanced towards the stairs. ‘Where will they go, Jess?’
‘Tom’s gone to make some phone calls. He’s got a plan to help them reach their friends.’
Excitement flickered across Morwenna’s tired face. ‘Will you tell me what happens?’
‘Of course I will. I’ll phone you at work and you can call in at my place on your way home.’
Morwenna buttoned her coat. ‘I’ll never forget tonight, not till my dying day.’
‘’Night, Mor,’ Jess, Gill and Viv called.
As the back door closed behind Morwenna, Gill leaned over the worktop and peered out through the hatch. ‘The choir’s gone. There’s just a few stragglers chatting near the door. I’ll go and get the rest of the dishes.’ Picking up an empty tray she unlocked the door into the hall and left it open.
‘Jess, I’ve put the leftovers in those two plastic containers,’ Viv said then began wiping down the worktops.
‘Any sign of Harry?’ Jess asked as Gill returned and unloaded the tray.
‘You got to be kidding. He’ll be over in the pub until Alan calls time.’
Jess sighed. ‘Looks like we’ll be folding the card tables and stacking the chairs.’
They had almost finished when Tom arrived back. He came through the front door and locked it behind him.
‘I called in at the pub and got the keys off Harry. I told him we still had a bit to do so I’d lock up to save him hanging around.’
‘He didn’t mind?’ Jess was surprised.
Tom grinned. ‘Mind? He’s propped up against the bar with Brian Rowse putting the world to rights. Alan will need a crowbar to shift them. Come on in the kitchen.’
‘And me?’ Gill asked.
‘’Course, Viv too. We’d never have got through tonight without the pair of you.’
Even with the hatch and both kitchen doors closed Tom kept his voice low. ‘I rang Khalid’s friend, Masoud. To begin with he wouldn’t even admit to knowing Khalid and Farah. But when I told him about the baby, and that we were doing our best to get them across to France within the next twenty-four hours he apologised. He works for an IT company and can get Khalid work. His wife, Nasrin, is a doctor. She’ll make sure Farah and the baby get proper care.
‘I have to phone them again as soon as we know where Khalid and Farah will be touching down.’
‘You’ve spoken to Roger?’ Jess asked.
Tom nodded. ‘He’s free in the morning. Though he’s booked to give a flying lesson at two he’ll postpone it if necessary.’
‘That’s very good of him. Obviously he’ll have to be paid.’
‘He said as long as we cover the fuel and landing charges, he’s happy.’
Gill’s brows climbed. ‘Dear life, you surely got a good friend there.’
Tom grinned. ‘He loves to fly and this will be a welcome break in routine. His words, not mine.’ He caught Jess’s eye and she grinned.
‘Where will you take them?’
‘Nowhere until the baby’s birth has been registered. Everything has to be legal.’
‘The register office in town is open Thursdays from 9.30 until 11,’ Viv said. ‘I was in there after Father died back in March.’
‘I’ll have Khalid on the doorstep at 9.25 with his passport. Annie wrote down the date and time the baby was born, his weight, and his parents’ names. She put the village as his place of birth.’
‘Bless her for thinking of that,’ Jess said.
‘As soon as we get back, we’ll pick up Farah and the baby and drive to Bodmin airfield.’
‘Yes, but where are they flying to?’
‘Roger said if he flies them into a quiet airfield like Quimper there’ll be fewer people around but they may be remembered. Cherbourg is much busier but they’ll be just two more in the crowd. The flight will take around forty-five minutes depending on the wind.’ He pushed away from the worktop he’d been leaning against. ‘It’s their lives, their choice. I’ll go and ask.’
Gill laid her hand on Jess’s forearm. ‘Look, if there’s nothing else Viv and me can do we’ll get on home. I aren’t used to all this excitement.’
Jess hugged her. ‘Thanks so much.’
‘Mind you let us know what happens.’
‘I will, I promise. Night, Viv. And thanks.’
‘Wouldn’t have missed it for the world. This is what Christmas is really about, isn’t it?’
After they’d gone, Tom turned the key and followed Jess upstairs. ‘What are we going to do with them tonight? They can’t stay here in the dark. And if they leave the light on someone will notice.’
‘I’ll have them,’ Jess said.
‘Jess, your cottage is right in the middle of the village. You’ve got Ivy next door. There’s no way we’ll get them out in the morning without someone seeing. They’ll be safer at mine. My nearest neighbour is a hundred yards away. Chris will be over for the weekend. But he’s not coming until Friday evening.’
An hour later, while Farah was in the bathroom, Jess and Tom made up his bed with fresh sheets. After a single glance exchanged as she shook out the bottom sheet, Jess kept her head bent as they smoothed and tucked. She wondered if his silence meant that he too found the intimacy unsettling.
‘I didn’t expect to be doing this tonight,’ he said. ‘Not for strangers anyway. I mean, I hoped one day we – but there’s no rush. Not that you would have had to – I’d have done all this before –’
‘Tom,’ Jess smothered a grin. ‘You’re in deep enough. Stop digging.’
‘Right. I was just saying. You know, to keep in mind for the future –’
‘Tom!’ While she put a fresh cover on the duvet, he emptied one of the dresser drawers, padding it with a soft blanket as a makeshift cot.
By the time Khalid emerged from the bathroom, Farah was propped up in bed nursing the baby. Jess placed two mugs of cocoa and a bottle of water on the bedside table.
‘Goodnight. If you need anything we’re just downstairs.’
‘Thank you –’ Khalid began.
‘It was our pleasure,’ she cut him short with a smile. ‘Try to sleep. You’ll have another long day tomorrow.’ Closing the door she went down to the sitting room.
Tom was kneeling in front of the woodburner feeding in more logs. Seeing the long deep sofa took Jess back to her teens when this had been his parents’ house. Then the floral pattern on the loose covers had been crisp and bright. Now, faded by sunlight and washing, the colours were blurred pastel shades. Soft cushions in a flattened heap at one end showed his favourite place to watch TV.
Sinking onto the sofa she released a heartfelt sigh. Dusting off his hands on the seat of his jeans Tom sat down and gave her a gentle push so she fell sideways onto the cushions.
‘Stay.’ He lifted her legs, eased off her shoes and started massaging her feet.
She turned so her head and shoulders rested comfortably on the cushions ‘Oh, that’s wonderful.’
‘Some carol concert that was.’
Jess nodded. ‘I’m shattered.’ As his strong fingers kneaded, she closed her eyes and felt herself drift. There was something she had intended to ask him. But as the stress of the evening melted away she couldn’t remember what it was.
She woke with a start and in the dim light of a table lamp on the bookcase saw Tom sprawled sound asleep in the armchair by the woodburner.
She sat up and the blanket he had laid over her fell to the floor. The soft sound woke him. For a long moment they looked at one another. Then Jess glanced at her watch and winced.
‘Where did the night go?’ She swung her feet to the floor.
Tom stood up. ‘You know where the clean towels are. I’ll put the kettle on and fetch Annie.’
While Khalid showered and shaved, Annie bathed the baby, then Farah showered and dressed. Tom prepared breakfast. Jess stripped the bed and loaded the washing machine.
At ten past nine Tom and Khalid left for town, dropping Annie off on the way. Farah fed the baby and Jess washed up. At five minutes to ten she heard the throaty rumble of Tom’s pick-up and at ten fifteen they were on their way to Bodmin Airfield.
An overnight shower had left the air crisp and clear. A gentle breeze pushed cotton wool clouds across a sky the colour of forget-me-nots.
The pick-up had a crew cab that seated four. Jess rode in front next to Tom, with Khalid, Farah, and the baby in the rear where they were less likely to be seen.
The roads were quiet. The rush to school and work was over and Christmas shoppers were still at home.
In the back Khalid and Farah talked softly, their voices blending with the engine noise. Jess remembered and turned to Tom.
‘Is now a good time to tell me?’ As he glanced at her she prompted. ‘Chris? Yesterday? In court?’
After a moment’s hesitation he gave a brief nod. ‘Mick Carter gave evidence for the coastguard. Mick’s a good bloke. I’ve known him years. He told the magistrates he believed the tip-off had come from one of the smugglers.’
‘Why would they do that?’
‘Mick said in his opinion Chris was a throwaway. It was worth it to the gang to shop him and lose a few thousand cigarettes. That would keep the coastguard busy while the rest of the cargo was put ashore somewhere else. Mick told me if it had been up to him he’d have given Chris a good talking to and let him off. But now with these new tougher laws to tackle tobacco and cigarette smuggling, he didn’t have a choice. He had to prosecute.’
‘And Chris pleaded guilty?’
Tom nodded. ‘Not that he could have done anything else seeing he was caught with the stuff. But his guilty plea pleased the magistrates. The chairlady, or whatever they’re called now, said it showed he was taking responsibility for what he’d done and as it’s his first offence they gave him a six-month referral order.’
‘How is he?’ Jess saw how talking about it had deepened lines of strain across his forehead and the outer corners of his eyes.
‘Shaken, and so he damn well should be. Whoever got him into it gave him twenty quid with a promise of eighty more once the load was safely ashore. They knew they weren’t going to give him another penny. They knew he wouldn’t “grass” either.’
‘How could they be sure?’ Jess asked, then realised. ‘They threatened him.’
‘That’s what I thought. The magistrates asked who got him into it. But he refused to say. The lady in charge asked if he’d been threatened with violence. But it wasn’t him they were going to hurt. The bastards said they would burn the yard.’
‘Oh Tom,’ Jess murmured, appalled.
‘Poor little sod. He thought it would be easy money and he’s saving up to buy a car soon as he’s passed his test.’ He rubbed his forehead, sighed. ‘Susan says it’s my fault. If I’d been a better father, spent more time with him –’
‘Hang on a minute. When your father died the boatyard was in desperate straits financially.’
‘That’s true, but –’
‘You were working eighteen-hour days to keep it going. Then Susan wanted a divorce –’
‘Because I was always working.’
‘To save the business that paid for the house she’s living in. Tom, you did the best you could in the circumstances. Stop beating yourself up.’
The smile warmed his eyes as he glanced at her. ‘You always say the right thing.’
She shrugged. ‘It’s the truth. What is this referral order?’
‘Chris has to go in front of a panel and sign up to a contract of work in the community. Jobs like helping the village volunteer group clean out choked ditches and trim overgrown footpaths. The person supervising him will report back to the panel. I told the magistrates I’ll give him weekend work at the yard.’ Tom snorted. ‘I offered him a job when he turned sixteen but he didn’t want to know.’
‘Let me guess, he wanted to hang out with his mates. What did he say this time?’
‘Jumped at it. I think knowing they deliberately set him up, then having to go to court, has given him one hell of a shock. He also let on that he doesn’t like Susan’s new man bossing him around. So it looks like he’ll be spending more time with me.’
‘That will be good for both of you.’
‘I told him straight he won’t get special treatment. But if he does the crap jobs without complaining and shows interest I’ll take him on as an apprentice.’
‘What did he say?’
‘Not a lot. You know what teenagers are.’
She laughed. ‘I remember it well.’
‘If I ever get hold of the bastards who set him up … Just as well I won’t, else it would be me in court. Chris knows he’s been lucky. Still, if he buys a car with money he’s earned, he won’t want to wreck it.’ He looked across at her with a wry grin. ‘When do you stop worrying?’
Jess laughed. ‘You don’t. It arrives when they are born and it’s always there at the back of your mind.’
‘Thanks for that.’
‘You did ask.’ Jess patted his forearm. ‘I’m glad for you, Tom.’
‘Here we are.’
Roger met them at the door to the tiny terminal building. Wearing an olive-green flying suit he was lean and wiry with a narrow face, blue eyes, and a grey crew cut.
‘You made good time.’
Introductions were made, hands shaken, and he smiled at the sleeping baby. After he had examined their passports and the baby’s pristine birth certificate he returned them to Khalid.
‘The forecast is excellent so it should be a quick, comfortable flight. I’ve already done all the checks so we’re good to go.’
While Khalid pumped Tom’s hand, his voice rough and incoherent, Jess hugged Farah whose face was wet with tears.
‘Thank you, Jess. We will never forget, never.’
‘Be happy.’ Jess bent and gently kissed the baby’s forehead. His skin was warm and soft and his sweet baby smell brought back vivid memories of Rob and Sam just a few hours old and herself exhausted and euphoric. She stepped back, her vision blurred, and felt Tom’s arm encircle her shoulder and draw her close.
She wiped her eyes and a few moments later they watched the red and white plane speed down the runway and climb into the sky.
Back in the pick-up Tom started the engine then turned to her. ‘Doing anything special on Christmas Day?’
She shook her head. ‘Sam will be in Oz. Rob and Fiona are having their first Christmas with Helen in their own home which I think is a wise decision. I’ll phone Rob and Fiona this evening and ask if I can have Helen for a day sometime between now and next Wednesday.’ She pulled a face. ‘When Rob rang yesterday I turned him down.’
‘You’ve got jobs to finish.’
‘Yes, I have. But after last night –’
When she broke off he nodded and she knew he understood.
‘I can work while she has her nap, and I’ll put in a couple of evenings. What about you? Are you doing anything special?’
He shook his head. ‘Chris will be over this weekend. But Susan wants him with her on Christmas Day.’
Jess nodded.
‘So I thought –’ He cleared his throat. ‘I was wondering – how about you and me doing nothing special at my place?’
She met his gaze and felt her heart give a little leap. Maybe it wasn’t too soon after all.