Chapter 19.

“I thought you weren’t going to have time to see us!” Nan shouted and she tugged Jess's shoulders down so that she could envelope her in comforting arms.

That squeeze from her Nan, its strength had not diminished over the years, if anything it had got stronger as Jess became bigger and more able to withstand it. Nan pulled her into her padded and reassuring hug, which felt as if it could protect Jess from all the ills in the world.

“I can’t believe it!” Nan yelled. “Everybody! Jess is home!” she shouted into the house.

“Hi, Nan,” Jess said, muffled by the considerable upper arm of her grandmother. Jess wondered if she imagined the aroma of sweet spices, the comfort of it all was so consuming.

“I’m baking,” her grandmother said.

Oh. It actually was the smell of spices.

“I’m making parkin for bonfire night, my own recipe. Come in quick. I need to take it out the oven. Trisha! Jess is here!”

Jess ducked her head under the doorway and followed Nan into the low-ceilinged kitchen.

“Give me a moment,” Nan said, “then I’ll get to you properly.” She lumbered towards the range oven. Jess frowned. Nan hadn’t hobbled so much when she’d been home last. She’d left it too long and a pang of guilt and regret pinched in her chest.

“People never put enough ginger in,” Nan said, shaking out a T-towel then folding it thick. “It needs to burn your throat if it’s going to warm you up on a cold November night. Your father always mutters about the traditional recipe, but I’m not having that. I know a good cake when I taste one.”

Nan bent down as if her back creaked with every small movement and slid out a loaf tin, brown lining paper curling over the top and the rich dark ginger cake peeking out from within. A warm, humid, spicy cloud enveloped Jess's face.

“That smells delicious,” she said, unable to resist the temptation to inhale it all.

Nan let the tin clatter onto the iron trivet on the farmhouse style kitchen table and flopped her tea towel beside it.

“Oh my girl.” Nan came back to squeeze Jess's cheeks in her big hands. “We should eat this now. You need fattening up.” And she slapped Jess on the bum. “Too much bone on them hips. You wait until your mother sees you.”

“I can see her,” came a voice. Jess squinted further into the cottage, struggling with the dimness in the middle of the house then the bright contrast of the window beyond in the sitting room that overlooked the garden. Her mother stepped out of the stairwell and into the kitchen. “She’s perfect the way she is,” Trisha said with the kind of smile that fills you right up to the top with love.

“Mom,” Jess murmured and she wrapped her arms around her. Her mother’s hug was less ferocious than Nan’s but no less comforting.

Jess couldn’t hold back any longer. She thought she’d steadied herself over the last day in Anna’s company, but tears sprung into her eyes and they wouldn’t stop. “I missed you all so much.” And that’s all she could say, now that she was full-on blubbing. Her mother squeezed her gently and rocked her from side to side.

“Come here, bab,” she said, and she cradled Jess's head with one hand, and that made Jess blub some more.

Jess sniffled and was only half aware when she drew herself up that she wiped her nose on her hand like a five-year-old.

“You had a haircut!” Jess said, beaming and still crying a little.

“Do you like it?” Mom said, grinning so much she was obviously thrilled with it. Gone was her weave and braided extensions and she sported a short pixie cut of tight curls.

“You look amazing, Mom.”

Jess didn’t have to even try to think of the compliment. The short hair suited her mom’s face and accentuated her cheekbones. Jess knew she owed her looks to her mother, with her dark skin, deep brown eyes that didn't miss a thing and a curve to her body. Her Dad had given her height but everything else she owed to these two ladies.

Jess sighed. There were too many changes. Her life was so fast-moving and all-consuming that she sometimes forgot change went on for others too.

“You do not need fattening up, or slimming down, or any other change my lovely girl,” Mom said with eyes full of adoring sympathy, “but I bet a cup of tea and some cake would go down a treat.”

Jess nodded, a lump still blocking her throat. “Yes, it would.”

“Tell that husband of yours to get home,” Nan said with the flick of a sharp knife towards Trisha before she resumed cutting through the rich sticky treat. “His daughter is home and there’s cake. That son of yours too.”

“I’m trying,” Trisha said with such a strong Brummie twang it made Jess grin.

They sat round the kitchen table, mugs of tea in front of them and tendrils of steam drifting towards the low-beamed ceiling. Trisha was tapping at her phone then waving it around the room, attempting to send a message against the will of the temperamental service.

“You can say all you want about the benefits of country living, but for once I’d like to be able to send a message without having to be a contortionist.”

“All this modern technology,” Nan said with a dismissive wave of her hand.

“You’re the one who wanted me to send a message.”

Nan tutted and Jess couldn’t stop beaming, back in the company of their habitual bickering.

“Jack’s on his way to a friend’s,” Mom said. “I’ll tell your dad to turn round and bring him home.”

“It’s OK,” Jess said quietly. “I didn’t give you any warning. Don’t bother him if he’s going out.”

“Rubbish,” Nan snapped. “You’re a busy woman. He should come home to see his famous sister.”

Jess swallowed and took an interest in her tea.

“We were worried you know,” Nan said, peering straight at her.

“Mom!” Trisha hissed.

“Well we were. We were all round the telly expecting you on that talk show, then some comedian comes on instead. We didn’t know what to think.”

Jess squeezed her mug until it started to burn her palms. “Sorry,” she said.

“Nothing to be sorry for,” Mom said and she patted Jess's hand. “Thank you for leaving a message yesterday.”

Jess looked up to see concern creasing her mother’s forehead which she immediately disguised with a smile that wasn’t quite convincing but was nonetheless full of regard and no blame.

“I…” The words stuck in Jess's throat again. “I’m tired,” was all she managed.

Nan thrust a small plate with a large piece of cake towards her and Jess took a nibble as an excuse not to say anymore.

“You sounded happy in that message. Who were you with, huh?” Nan said, peering down her nose through her glasses so that she had Jess in sharp focus. How did she do that? How did she sniff out gossip like that?

“What?” Jess said, putting none of her acting skills to use.

“You heard me. Who were you with? Some nice lady?”

“Mom!” Trisha shot Nan another look.

“Well, I wouldn’t blame her for skipping a TV show for some nice woman.”

“Or man,” Mom added.

Nan tutted and batted that possibility out the room with a wave of the hand. “If she must,” Nan said. “If I’d ever known about lesbians when I was young, you might never have been born. That’s all I’m saying.”

It was one of those snippets of conversation that Jess was never sure whether she should be heartened or disturbed by. But her grandmother had been one of the most supportive people in her life when she showed signs of being queer as a teen. Her Nan had told her straight away that she’d seen enough bigotry in life not to entertain other kinds when it came to Jess, and when she’d tugged her into that crushing hug of hers it had gone a long way to extinguishing the fear that had built up inside young Jess.

“I…” Jess nursed that tea some more. “I freaked out,” she said, watching the steam twist and curl out of her mug. “That’s why I missed the show.”

Mom and Nan were quiet, Trisha’s hand resting against Jess’s.

“I’ve been working hard lately.”

Her mother nodded encouragement.

“Travelling, interviews, reshoots and last-minute dubbing.” Jess took a deep breath. “I think I’m exhausted, that’s all.”

“You need your quiet don’t you, bab.” Mom smiled. “You always did. Too much time with people and you’d need to hide away with a comic or go into your own world outside in the woods.”

“Yeah,” Jess sighed. She didn’t feel too far away from that young girl that Mom referred to.

“And where did you find quiet time in London?” Nan said, spitting out the name of the capital.

“A friend helped calm me down,” Jess admitted. “She was very kind. I only met her on Friday, but she was so helpful.” She glanced up to see two faces that were trying very hard to be diplomatic.

“She’s a friend.” Jess tutted. Only a friend, she tried to tell herself.

Her phone beeped on the table and Jess peeked at the screen. “Anna: Yes. More than just a kiss.”

Jess couldn’t help grinning. “That was her,” she said, swiping the notification out of sight of prying eyes. “She was just checking in. Like I said, she was really helpful.”

When she looked up, Nan and Mom were staring at her, their eyebrows almost hitting the ceiling.