Fallen Hero - A Polvellan Cornish Mystery

by Rachel Ennis

  Fallen Hero

  A Polvellan Mystery

  Rachel Ennis

  After she gives a talk about family history, Jess Trevanion is asked by downtrodden Morwenna Crocker to find the father she’s never known. Jess uncovers secrets and shame in Morwenna’s background, together with surprising and heartbreaking heroism.

  Meanwhile, a fierce storm causes severe damage to the marina, and Jess and her almost-partner Tom help clear up the mess. But Jess is under pressure in her personal life, and more shocking revelations about her late husband cause tension between her and Tom …

  CONTENTS

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Rachel’s Recipe

  Other titles by Rachel Ennis

  Chapter One

  Jess Trevanion opened the door. ‘Hi, Gill, come in.’

  ‘I can’t stop long.’ Wearing a blue wool coat and a pretty silk scarf, Gill Eathorne stepped inside and Jess closed the door. ‘I just wanted to thank you. Everyone who’s been to the post office have said how much they loved your talk. I told you, didn’t I?’

  ‘I was shaking like a leaf in a gale when I stood up.’

  ‘It didn’t show.’

  ‘Gill, you’re a terrible liar.’

  ‘All right, but it was only for a minute. Once you started talking then wrote those names on the board, they was hooked. Even old Mrs Truscott stayed awake, and that’s a first.’

  ‘I wish I’d had more to show them but I’ve focused on my mother’s side. I haven’t started Father’s yet.’

  ‘You wouldn’t have had room on the board for more,’ Gill pointed out. ‘Anyhow, it was a lovely talk, and it put Frances Chiddock in her place good and proper. You know she was trying to have the rules changed so she could stay on as president for another year? We weren’t having that. And I wanted to give the ladies something different from flower arranging and quilting. You could tell from the applause how they loved it. Did you have any enquiries?’

  Jess shook her head. ‘Nothing definite. But several people asked for cards.’

  Gill patted her arm. ‘Don’t you fret. Within a week someone will ask. I’d put money on it.’

  ‘Thanks, Gill.’

  As the door closed, Jess slid Fred Honey’s account books and completed tax return into her shopping bag. Opening the front door she glanced up. Seeing blue sky and feeling the warmth of the sun on her face, she picked up her pink padded jacket but didn’t bother with her hat and scarf. Snow might be falling in Scotland and the north, but apart from a few sharp frosts and several gales Cornwall’s winter had been mild – so far.

  She would leave Fred’s books with Mavis, pick up some shopping, and be back home in half an hour. Tom was bringing his accounts round between one and two. That should give her time to hang out her washing, refill the log basket, chop kindling, and add the latest genealogy sites to her database. With new records coming online each week it was hard to keep up.

  ‘All right, Jess?’ Annie Rogers called from the other side of the street. ‘Any news?’

  Jess shook her head. It was a month since the carol concert. She, Gill, and Viv had been preparing refreshments in the kitchen that night, and Tom had stayed to help. Only they and former midwife Annie knew about the baby born upstairs in a storeroom to a terrified young couple fleeing for their lives, and all were sworn to secrecy.

  ‘Tom’s coming round later. I’ll ask him.’

  ‘What an evening that was.’

  Jess grinned. ‘If it had been a film, the baby would have arrived to the sound of Morwenna singing “Unto Us A Child Is Born.”’

  ‘I hope they’re all right,’ Annie said.

  ‘I’ll let you know if he’s heard anything.’

  Jess walked quickly up the street. The village was quiet. Mothers delivering children to school had returned home, and shoppers hadn’t yet come out. Heading towards the two semi-detached cottages built end-on to the road Jess saw an ambulance parked outside. The driver had turned the vehicle so it faced downhill and the back doors stood open.

  Quickening her pace, she saw two paramedics emerge from the cottage next to the Honeys’. Wrapped in a blanket, Brenda Crocker was propped up on the stretcher, eyes closed, an oxygen mask over her face, one ankle immobilised in a splint.

  Mavis Honey followed, carrying a bulging tartan shopping bag. A faded floral apron covered her trousers and sweatshirt, and her feet were stuffed into old sheepskin slippers. Waiting while the two men loaded the stretcher, she handed the bag to the paramedic who remained in the back. His colleague closed the doors then jumped into the cab and started the engine. A moment later the ambulance passed Jess, turned the corner, and disappeared.

  Mavis hugged herself as she waited on the paved path. ‘Is that Fred’s accounts? Goodness, you were quick.’

  ‘I’ve filled in the return, Fred just has to sign, date, and post it.’ Jess gestured towards the departed ambulance. ‘What happened to Brenda?’

  ‘Come and see for yourself.’ Mavis led the way into her neighbour’s cottage, talking over her shoulder. ‘I was cleaning out my fire when I heard this crash then Brenda screaming blue murder. Good job Morwenna leaves the front door unlocked when she goes to work.’

  Mavis moved aside and Jess caught her breath. Blood splattered the wallpaper and streaked the rumpled sheets and blanket falling off the bed pushed against the inner wall. A large crimson patch on the rug was still wet.

  ‘I found her on the floor. One ankle was bent over and swelling like a balloon.’

  ‘The blood –?’

  ‘From the back of her other leg.’ Mavis shuddered. ‘She got terrible veins. Like knotted ropes, they are. I reckon her toenail caught one. Brenda wouldn’t let Mor cut them. She said Mor didn’t do it right and always hurt her.’ Mavis rolled her eyes.

  ‘Fred’s at work and I couldn’t move her. So I dialled 999. Then I fetched a towel to try to stop the bleeding. But she wouldn’t let me near. She just kept screaming and wailing.’ Mavis snorted. ‘Like that would help. Soon as the paramedics came I left them to shut her up and fetched a clean nightdress, soap, flannel, and toothbrush for her to take. If she’ve broke her other ankle they’ll have to keep her in.’

  ‘You won’t have had time to phone Morwenna.’

  Mavis pressed a palm to her cheek. ‘That poor maid. As if she haven’t got enough to put up with. Will you ring her? What with Brenda screaming and all this –’ she gestured at the blood, ‘I need a cup of tea. I’m all of a tremble.’

  Jess dropped her bag on the couch and crossed to the phone sitting on top of the sideboard. Next to it was a square of card printed in black felt-tip with the number of the builders’ merchants where Morwenna worked.

  ‘Mor? It’s Jess. I’m sorry to bother you at work but your mother’s had a fall. No, not serious, but she may have broken her ankle. Mavis called an ambulance and they’re taking her to hospital.’ She glanced up as Mavis returned carrying two china mugs decorated with forget-me-nots. ‘Best if you go straight there.’

  ‘Tell her –’ Mavis began, raising her voice as Jess turned the receiver so Morwenna could hear. ‘When you’re ready to come home, Mor, ring me and Fred will come and pick you up.’

  ‘Did you get that?’ Jess asked. ‘Yes. It’s OK, Mor. Bye.’

  Jess replaced the receiver. ‘She says she’s sorry for the trouble.’ They shared a glance.

  ‘Pity it wasn’t B
renda’s neck,’ Mavis muttered, handing Jess her tea. ‘I know that sounds hard and I wouldn’t say it to anyone else. But she’s wicked to Morwenna.’

  ‘I’m not arguing.’ Jess sipped the hot, strong tea and felt her stomach settle. ‘Why is there so much blood?’

  ‘Warfarin,’ Mavis said. ‘Brenda takes it every day for her heart. Fred’s father did too. The spring before he died he was trimming the hedge and cut himself on the shears. By the time we got him bandaged up, the kitchen looked like a slaughterhouse.’

  ‘Thanks, Mavis. I’ll have that image in my head all day now.’

  ‘Well, you did ask.’

  They drank their tea, surveyed the room, then looked at each other. Jess sighed. ‘We can’t let Mor come back to this.’

  Mavis handed Jess her empty mug. ‘I’ll strip the bed and soak the sheets in cold salt water before they go in the machine.’

  Jess opened the cupboard under the sink. Finding a plastic bucket she put it under the hot tap, took out a bottle of bleach and another of liquid cleaner, and tipped half a cupful of each into the hot water. Then she hunted through drawers for old tea towels.

  Once the sheets were soaking, Mavis joined Jess in the living room. ‘No point wasting time on that rug, he’s past saving.’ She rolled it up and carried it outside.

  An hour and a half later, hot, sweaty, and weary, Jess emptied the fourth lot of water down the sink. Her fingertips were wrinkled like prunes and her hands smelled of bleach.

  ‘Well,’ Mavis said as they met in the kitchen, ‘the floor and furniture’s clean. But that wallpaper – the only thing to do is paint over it. Brighten the room up lovely it would. All that brown.’ She shook her head. ‘If I had to spend every evening in here I’d want to hang meself. Fred could do it in a couple of days. I’ll have a word when he gets home. You get on, Jess. I’ll lock up after I’ve hung the sheets out.’

  ‘Don’t forget Fred’s accounts.’

  ‘What about your bag?’

  ‘Drop it in next time you’re passing.’

  Back in her own home, Jess added another couple of logs to the woodburner, then washed her hands thoroughly with scented soap and rubbed in a generous amount of the expensive hand cream her daughter-in-law had given her for Christmas.

  Zipping up her jacket once more she picked up her purse and went down the street to the shop. Seeing Annie at the post office counter talking to Gill, Jess joined them.

  ‘Whatever have you been doing, girl?’ Annie demanded, wrinkling her nose. ‘You reek of bleach.’

  ‘So much for my posh hand cream.’ As she started telling them about Brenda, Sandra Eustice, who ran the shop with her husband Gerry, hurried over.

  ‘Was it Brenda the ambulance was for? I saw it come round the corner when I brought in the milk.’

  ‘Be good if they keep her in for a few days,’ Gill said. ‘Morwenna’s looking some tired.’

  ‘Brenda better not talk to the nurses the way she do talk to Morwenna,’ Sandra sniffed.

  ‘She won’t,’ Annie said. ‘She’s in a strange place so she’ll behave.’

  ‘Let me know when you hear anything,’ Gill said.

  ‘I will,’ Jess promised. After buying cheese, tomatoes, milk, and a fresh loaf, she returned home.

  Hungry after the morning’s unplanned exercise she opened a can of mushroom soup. While it heated she reached into the fridge for a jar of homemade chutney. Approaching footsteps on the path were followed by a knock at the door.

  Opening it, she looked up into Tom Peters’ tanned face, then at the large cardboard box in his arms.

  ‘What is it with men and boxes? Haven’t you ever heard of filing?’

  ‘Haven’t got time for that,’ he grinned. ‘I’m a working man. Anyway, you said to bring everything, so I did.’

  As Jess returned to the worktop he walked in, closing the door behind him, and slid the box onto one end of the table. ‘Something smells good.’

  ‘Is that a hint?’

  ‘My stomach thinks my throat’s been cut. But you said you wanted this as soon as possible and this is the first chance I’ve had to leave the yard.’

  Jess shot him a dry look. ‘Tom, I said that three weeks ago.’

  ‘I meant to bring it round before. But what with people wanting work done on their boats before the season, and keeping an eye on Chris, there aren’t enough hours in the day.’

  ‘How’s he getting on?’

  ‘Boy’s doing all right. I think he’s surprised how much he’s enjoying learning the different skills. You know how shut off Doug’s been since Jeanette walked out, well, he’s been good as gold with Chris. Mind you, he don’t let the boy get away with anything. If it isn’t done proper, Doug makes him to do it again. While Chris might fight me, he don’t argue with Doug.’

  ‘I’m glad for them, and for you.’ She indicated the pan. ‘Mushroom soup with a cheese, chutney, and tomato sandwich. OK?’

  ‘Handsome.’ He took off his waxed jacket, hung it on the back of the door then rubbed his hands. ‘Looks like I timed it just right.’

  ‘You’re lucky. If my morning had gone to plan I’d have finished this an hour ago, and you’d have had to make do with a cup of coffee.’

  He frowned. ‘Jess, don’t mind me saying, but there’s a powerful smell of bleach in here.’

  ‘Brenda Crocker had a fall this morning and bled all over the place. Mavis found her and called the ambulance. I arrived with Fred’s books just as it was leaving to take her to hospital so I helped Mavis clean up. We couldn’t leave it for Mor.’ She quickly made another sandwich. ‘Brenda’s ankle might be broken.’

  ‘Be good if they kept her in for a few days.’

  ‘Annie, Gill, and Sandra all said the same. I rang Mor at work. She’s going straight to the hospital and Fred will pick her up.’ Jess set the food on the table. ‘Annie wanted to know if you’d heard anything from Khalid.’

  ‘Not directly, but I had another email from Masoud. Like his last one letting us know they’d arrived, he’s only using their initials.’

  Sitting down opposite him, Jess shook her head. ‘I agree with what Annie said that night. Where’s the honour in threatening to kill your own daughter for refusing to marry a man she’s never met? This is the twenty-first century. Farah’s parents weren’t even new to this country. They were born here. I could have understood them objecting if Khalid was into crime or drugs or gangs. But he seemed like a well-educated, decent, hard-working young man. It was obvious he thought the world of Farah.’

  ‘You’re pushing an open gate, Jess.’ Tom reached across the table to lay his hand over hers. ‘I feel the same.’

  ‘Sorry. Don’t mind me. It’s been a bit of a morning. So what did Masoud’s email say?’

  ‘Khalid and Farah are fine and baby Naseem is thriving. They’ve moved into their own apartment close to Khalid’s new job with an IT company.’

  ‘That’s great news.’ After fleeing their vengeful families, a series of disasters had left them stranded in Polvellan with Farah in labour. Jess and Tom had discovered them hiding in the village hall the night of the carol concert. While Morwenna sang her heart out, Jess helped Annie deliver the baby. Thanks to a pilot friend of Tom’s, the couple and their baby were now safe in France.

  Behind Jess the letterbox opened and several letters fell onto the mat. Aware of Tom watching, she pushed back her chair and scooped them up.

  ‘Jess? You OK?’

  Dropping the letters on the dresser she nodded. ‘My solicitor phoned this morning. More complications. I just want it settled.’

  Rising from his chair, Tom put an arm around her shoulders. After a moment’s resistance she allowed herself to lean against him, breathed in his distinctive scent: warm skin, the sweet scent of sawdust, and a trace of lemon soap.

  ‘Come on, your soup’s going cold.’ He resumed his seat. ‘What are you doing this afternoon?’

  Pointing to the box he’d brought, Jess raised her eyeb
rows. ‘You mean apart from that?’

  ‘All right. Daft question.’

  Chapter Two

  By the following evening Jess had organised Tom’s paperwork into neat piles and was entering figures onto a spreadsheet. The woodburner radiated warmth and music played softly in the background.

  A knock on the door made her start. Tugging down her jumper, she opened the door. ‘Hello, Mor,’ she smiled. ‘I was just thinking about you. Come in.’

  Visibly tense, Morwenna looked past Jess to the table and stacks of paper. Cold air swirled around them both. ‘You’re busy.’

  ‘I was just going to make a cup of tea. Have one with me?’

  ‘I wouldn’t mind.’ Morwenna stepped inside, wiping her feet on the mat, and Jess closed the door.

  ‘Here, give me your coat and go and get warm. What’s the news?’

  Morwenna shed her olive raincoat and tartan scarf. In her brown skirt and cardigan and cream blouse she looked like an old-fashioned sepia photograph. Her frizzy grey hair needed a cut.

  ‘Hang on a minute.’ Reaching into her coat pocket she took out a folded paper, then passed the coat to Jess and crossed to the sofa that separated the living area from the kitchen. ‘I went to the hospital straight from work. Fred came and picked me up again, dear of him.’

  ‘How’s your mother?’

  ‘Complaining. She said she was in awful pain. So I went and asked the nurse for something to take it away. She was ever so nice. She told me Mother was having painkillers every four hours. She’ve eaten everything they put in front of her, and she’ve been chatting to the women on either side. I been worried out of my mind, and all the time –’ Morwenna’s eyes filled, her chin quivered, and her face turned blotchy red as she fought for control.

  ‘Oh, Mor.’ Jess briefly gripped the plump shoulder. Opening the fridge she took out milk.

  Morwenna wiped her nose then tucked her hanky up her sleeve. ‘It’s just, when I think – she could go to the over-sixties lunch club on a Wednesday. She could come to the choir concerts, and Sal is willing to take her to Craftwork meetings. She could have company most days. But she won’t go.’