Silver Linings

by Rachel Ennis

  ‘So am I, for your sake.’

  ‘Think the police will find out who it was?’

  Jess shrugged. ‘Perhaps, if one of them owns the van.’

  ‘Would they be that stupid?’

  ‘They were stupid enough to try and hold up the village shop.’

  ‘True.’ Gill sighed. ‘I’m feeling some tired.’

  ‘That’s the shock. Go on in and pamper yourself a bit.’

  ‘Be all over the village tomorrow.’

  As Jess walked up the road then turned in along her path she wondered if it would take that long.

  Chapter Two

  Warm from her bath, and comfortable in a soft sweatshirt, jogging pants, and slippers, Jess was putting sliced cheddar on crackers while tomato soup heated on the stove when her mobile trilled. She picked it up, recognised Tom’s number and felt her heart jump.

  ‘Hello –’ She had barely got the word out when he cut in.

  ‘I just heard.’

  ‘Goodness, that was quick.’

  ‘Matt told Ben when he got back to the farm and Ben straightway phoned me. Are you all right? He didn’t hurt you?’

  ‘He didn’t get close enough. It was a shock, that’s all. I’ll be fine after I’ve had something to eat.’

  ‘I’ll leave you get on then. I just – So long as you’re OK.’

  Unexpected tears blurred her vision and she pressed her fingers to quivering lips. Suddenly a bubble of soup burst, splattering on the hob. She coughed to shift the painful stiffness in her throat. ‘The pan’s boiling - I’d better –’

  ‘Yes. Night then.’

  ‘Thanks for –’ But he had already cut the call.

  Jess dropped the phone on the table and hurried to pull the pan from the hob and turn off the cooker.

  He had ended their relationship over her reluctance to give up her home and move into his. Surprisingly sensitive about some things, his lack of understanding over what was a far bigger step for her than for him had increased her doubts. Had he eased back and allowed her more time, she might well have come round to his way of thinking.

  But it had been his way or no way. He certainly hadn’t mourned for long, nor wasted any time before asking Natasha Terrell out. Yet he still cared enough to ring her the moment Ben told him about the hold-up. He hadn’t wanted details about what happened, only to know if she was all right. What was she supposed to make of that?

  His call brought home to her how much she missed him. It also rekindled her anger at his selfishness. Right now she couldn’t face dealing with either.

  Pouring steaming soup into a bowl she carried it to the table, fetched the plate of cheese and crackers, sat down and began to eat. Getting the first mouthful down was difficult, the second easier. She knew only too well that feeling exhausted and tearful was an after-effect of shock and the accompanying adrenalin surge. She had coped before, and today was a pin-prick by comparison.

  After washing up she turned on the TV. But nothing held her interest so she switched it off. If only she was involved in an investigation. Research would have taken her out of herself, given her something else to focus on. Though tired she wasn’t ready to sleep. She added another log to the woodburner. She’d make a pot of tea, pour a cup for herself then use the rest to soak sultanas, raisins and currants for a fruit loaf.

  She didn’t recognise the knock that came as she was weighing fruit into a basin. She glanced at the clock. It felt later than eight thirty. But then it had been a long and all-too-eventful day. She opened the door.

  ‘Natasha!’

  ‘Hello, Jess. I hope this isn’t an inconvenient time to call? Only there’s something I think you’d appreciate knowing. Oh dear, that sounds –’

  ‘Intriguing,’ Jess stepped back, opening the door wider. ‘Come in.’

  ‘You’re sure I’m not interrupting?’ She looked across to the worktop.

  ‘Tomorrow’s baking. It can wait. I’ve just boiled the kettle. Would you like tea, coffee or chocolate?’ Jess went back to the kitchen. ‘Take off your coat.’

  ‘Coffee would be great, thanks.’ She slipped off her jacket, hung it on a peg by the front door and moved towards the woodburner.

  Jess set two mugs on the coffee table. ‘Have a seat.’ She fetched a plate of homemade ginger fairings then sat opposite on the sofa.

  ‘I don’t get home often so it’s been lovely catching up with all Mum and Dad’s news. But once we’d done that…they have their routine and Mum does love her TV. Anyway, the other evening Tom dropped in to see Dad about some work he wants done. We chatted for a while then when Dad went to fetch something from his office and Mum was in the kitchen making tea, I asked him out for a drink.’

  Jess took a sip of her chocolate. ‘It’s really none of my business, Natasha.’

  ‘Oh, it is, believe me.’ She grinned. ‘Tom asked where I’d like to go and because it’s the pub I used to go to with friends from college, I said The Chain Locker. He said OK. So there we were chatting about the village and people we both knew. Then you walked in. Who was the chap?’

  ‘Harry Carveth. His mother used to live in the village. After she died he found a portrait of a woman in her attic and asked if I would find out who she was.’

  ‘Were you able to?’

  Jess nodded.

  ‘Good for you. Anyway, in you walked and Tom went all tense and monosyllabic. It didn’t take a genius to figure out there was unfinished business between you. I asked him what the story was. He said it was a private matter. So that was me told. Actually, I rather admired him for not trying to win sympathy. He suggested we went somewhere else, so we did. Then he spent the rest of the evening talking about you – how successful your investigations have been, how you rekindled old friendships and had a hand in helping Mor and Ben get together again.’

  Startled, touched, fascinated, Jess pushed the plate towards Natasha who took a biscuit then continued.

  ‘Asking Tom out was a spur-of-the-moment thing, to get me away from the house for an evening.’ She gave a wry smile. ‘Mum is a soap addict.’ She bit into the biscuit. ‘Oh, that’s perfect. Crisp and chewy. When I told her Tom and I were going for a drink she got all huffy and said he didn’t know when he was well off, and it was time he got his act together. I asked her what had gone wrong between you. She said she didn’t know, and it wasn’t for lack of trying to find out. So though the village is aware there’s trouble between the two of you, Tom hasn’t talked.’

  Nor had Viv, Gill, Annie or Mor. Jess’s eyes prickled and she blinked hard. ‘He wants me to move in with him.’

  ‘Just move in? As in live together?’

  ‘No,’ Jess admitted. ‘But by the time he mentioned marriage we were in the middle of a full-scale row and –’ She shook her head. ‘He said if I didn’t want him I couldn’t object if he looked to see if someone else did. That was such a sad thing to say, though I didn’t realise it until later. At the time, I was so angry that he didn’t understand what a big deal giving up my home would be for me. You know Fred Honey, the builder?’

  ‘Lives up next to Brenda Crocker’s place?’

  ‘Brenda’s father actually left it to Morwenna, but Brenda never told her.’

  ‘What?’

  Jess nodded. ‘Ben and Mor got married –’

  ‘I’ve heard all about the wedding.’

  ‘Then Ben moved in with Mor after Percy died. Anyway, Fred’s son Jason served his apprenticeship as a carpenter and works with his father. This place was a wreck when I bought it. They did all the renovations. I didn’t have much money so I was their labourer. Blood, sweat and fingernails went into making it the first home that’s truly mine.’

  Natasha smiled. ‘I know it’s easy to say but I do understand. A few years ago I came close to marrying, only to realise I didn’t want to give up my job.’

  ‘Why would you have to?’

  ‘My translation and interpreting work often takes me abroad. That’s not compatible with
a young family, especially if your husband-to-be also has a demanding job. The thing is, if I had loved him enough I wouldn’t have thought twice about quitting. I don’t regret it though. The fact that I chose my job over him was proof he wasn’t the one. After that I avoided serious relationships, until a year ago.’ Her voice and smile softened. ‘I hadn’t visited my parents in far too long and I thought that coming home to Cornwall, touching base, might help me decide about my future.’

  ‘Is it – is he serious?’ Jess asked.

  Swallowing the last of her coffee, Natasha nodded and leaned forward to put her mug down. ‘He wants us to get married so it’s déjà vu all over again.’ She spoke lightly but her gaze was serious.

  ‘Does it have to be an either/or choice? Could you not keep some independence and your own income running a translation business from home?’

  ‘How’s that working for you? Mum told me about some of the histories you’ve uncovered for people. It must be fascinating. I was already interested even before Tom spent the evening singing your praises. I’m only teasing,’ she said as Jess pressed a palm to her hot face.

  ‘I love it, and it’s working brilliantly. But the situation is different for me.’

  ‘What’s that old saying, home is where the heart is? Is Tom saying he doesn’t want you to work?’

  ‘No –’

  ‘Has he said he wants everything at his place to remain unchanged?’

  ‘No! He admitted it’s in desperate need of a facelift and I’d have a free hand to do whatever I wanted.’ So why had he gone to Alan to discuss having work done? Despite her curiosity, Jess wouldn’t ask.

  Natasha’s brows shot up ‘For goodness’ sake, woman. The man is handing over total control of his house – his family home going back ... how many generations?’

  ‘At least three,’ Jess admitted.

  ‘What more do you want?’

  Jess raked a hand through her hair. ‘You’re right. He’s being more than fair.’

  ‘Then what is it that’s really bothering you?’

  ‘I’m scared.’ Fear she had refused to acknowledge, even to herself, erupted from deep inside and spilled out. She braced herself for laughter but saw sympathy.

  ‘Scared of what?’

  ‘That after we’re married he – everything – will change.’

  Natasha’s tone was gentle. ‘Of course he’ll change. So will you. But why are you assuming that would be a bad thing?’

  The question forced her to confront the anxiety that had seethed in her subconscious. Now, as she saw, Jess felt tension leak away. She settled more comfortably against the cushions.

  ‘My late husband’s job took him abroad a lot, which meant I brought up our twin boys pretty much on my own. I was lucky to have my nan’s help when they were very small. Later on I nursed her and Grampy until their deaths. I’m not complaining,’ she said quickly. ‘Don’t ever think that. Nan and Grampy took me in after my parents died and brought me up. I was glad to have the chance to care for them the way they had cared for me. But not long after they passed away, Alex’s father had a stroke. So he moved in with us. Once I got his personal care sorted out – he wanted someone who wasn’t family – he and I got along really well.’ She paused.

  ‘While I was at home dealing with all this, Alex had a mistress and a daughter in Dubai. I didn’t have a clue.’

  ‘So how did you find out?’

  ‘My solicitor told me after Alex died. He was on one of his trips abroad, had a minor accident and developed septicaemia. He left me with no money and a load of debt, but that’s another story. So I suppose the truth is I’m afraid of being hurt again.’

  ‘I can understand that. But the only way to be sure you won’t be hurt is never to let anyone get close. Yes, you’ll be safe. You will also be dreadfully lonely. Life is a risk, Jess. There are no guarantees. But if you don’t try for what you want, how can you ever expect to get it? By the way, thank you.’

  ‘What for?’

  ‘Listening and talking to you has helped clear my mind. I’m going to accept Ralph’s proposal. You had a raw deal. I’m not making light of that. Nor would I ever condone what your husband did. Yes, a man needs to feel that he’s loved for himself as a man, not simply as a father and provider. But some men never grow up. They want wives who will look after them the way their mothers did, with the added bonus of sex. Men like that need constant reassurance they can still “pull”. My cousin Colin grew up thinking he was God’s gift. I doubt very much that marriage has changed him.’

  ‘It hasn’t,’ said Jess. ‘I employed him to fix a leak in the roof over my bedroom window. He’s a good tradesman, I’ll give him that. But the evening after I paid him he came back, showered, changed, and reeking of aftershave, wanting to know if there was anything else he could do for me, seeing I was on my own and must be lonely.’

  ‘What an ego.’ Natasha said dryly. ‘I hope you told him where to get off.’

  ‘I shut the door in his face. Of course, as soon as he’d gone I thought of all the things I should have said.’

  ‘Even if you’d said them, he would just have laughed. I’ve met plenty like him; spoiled, shallow, swaggering from conquest to conquest. But he’s playing with fire.’

  As she recalled Colin laughing with Gaynor Stevens in the doorway of the half-finished conversion opposite Sean’s office, and Sean in his wheelchair watching them through the slatted blind, a shiver tightened Jess’s skin. Who would be burned?

  Jess was washing her breakfast dishes the following morning when the phone rang. She lifted the receiver. ‘Hello?’

  ‘Hi, Ma. It’s Rob. Helen’s fine, I’m fine and so is Shelley,’ he added before she could ask.

  Jess laughed. ‘Thanks for that. I’m glad to hear it.’

  ‘I promised to keep you in the picture. I’ve seen my solicitor and completed my divorce petition. There’s no going back, so no point in waiting.’

  ‘I’m sorry things worked out this way, love. But for what it’s worth you and Shelley have my support.’

  ‘Appreciate it, Ma. I wish Shelley’s parents felt the same, though I understand their concerns. I’m married and their daughter was working for me and my wife.’

  ‘You’ve talked to them then?

  ‘Shelley has taken Helen to see them, and we’ve been over together. She’s a diamond, Ma. She loves them and understands that they might have had different hopes for her. But she reminded them they brought her up to stand on her own feet, do what made her happy, and that’s what she’s doing. She loves me and Helen and wants us to be a family. I never had that with Fiona. She never wanted Helen. Her going off with another man shows how she feels about me.’

  ‘Oh Rob –’

  ‘It’s OK, Ma. It’s a kick in the pride. If I hadn’t met Shelley I’d have stuck it out. But I can’t – don’t – regret what’s happened. I’m happier than I’ve ever been and that’s all down to her.’

  ‘You told them this? Her parents?’

  ‘I did. I don’t know who was more surprised. I’ve never been demonstrative. In my job the ability to distance oneself is a good thing. Patients want a doctor who listens, assesses their condition, and prescribes the appropriate treatment. Showing that I feel their pain would not help them. But growing close to Shelley – what I feel for her – I’ve never had that.’

  ‘How sad,’ Jess murmured.

  ‘That’s the past.’ She pictured him shrugging. ‘Since Fiona went there’s a different atmosphere in the house.’

  ‘How’s Helen?’

  ‘Eating for England and sleeping well. She’s bright and happy. We’ll bring her over again soon and you can see for yourself.’

  ‘I’ll look forward to it.’

  ‘Gotta go. Is all well your end?’

  ‘Everything’s fine,’ Jess said. ‘Give Shelley my love, and kiss Helen for me.’

  ‘Will do. See you, Ma.’

  ‘Bye, love.’ Jess had just replaced the receiver
when there was a knock on the door. She crossed to open it. ‘Hello, Val. Come in.’

  ‘Not interrupting, am I?’

  ‘No. Rob just phoned. Coffee?’

  ‘I wouldn’t say no. Shelley and the baby all right are they?’

  ‘They’re fine, thanks.’

  Dropping her shopping bag by her feet, Val subsided onto the chair Jess pulled out for her.

  Jess flicked the kettle switch then took down two mugs and got the coffee jar out of the cupboard. ‘How are you?’

  ‘Rushed off my feet. I should be home, but I needed a few bits from the shop and I thought a walk in the sunshine might calm my nerves.’

  ‘That bad is it?’ Jess smiled her sympathy.

  Val rolled her eyes. ‘Worse. You would not believe these new Health and Safety regs. Keith has got to have a fire plan and an evacuation plan, and a holding area in case either of them’s needed. Soon as the Rally opens the fields are classed as a public highway, so no under-sixteens are allowed to drive except in the ring. Half the boys coming got old tractors they’re rebuilding. They work evenings and holidays to earn money for parts. They aren’t no boy racers. They’re steady responsible lads who was looking forward to having a bit of a drive round the lorry park. Now they can’t. No children are allowed on the tractors as passengers. A shame it is. The little tackers love sitting on father’s or grampy’s lap to go round the ring. They don’t go no more’n walking pace, for goodness’ sake. Whatever happened to people taking responsibility for their own safety? Then there’s the traction engines. We don’t mind providing free coal and water. People love to see them. But three wanted paying to come. We can’t do it. The point of the rally is to raise money for local charities. If we go paying people to come, there wouldn’t be much left to give. I swear, if I’d known it was going to be this much trouble –’ She rubbed her face.

  Jess spooned coffee into the mugs then poured on boiling water, inhaling the rich fragrance. ‘I don’t think you need worry. Everyone in the village is looking forward to it. Most are involved in one way or another. With so much effort and goodwill it can’t help but be a success.’