by Rachel Ennis
‘Right,’ Fiona nodded, busy settling Helen into her car seat.
Jess loaded the bags into the back then watched, arms clasped across her body, as Fiona drove away. She sighed, murmuring wryly, ‘That went well.’
On Friday morning Jess walked into the shop and saw Mavis and Viv at the post office counter talking to Gill.
‘You heard Brenda’s coming home this afternoon?’ Mavis asked.
Jess nodded. ‘Mor rang me last night when she got home. She sounded very tired.’
‘That’s just from visiting every day,’ Mavis said. ‘Something got to be done else Mor will be ill herself.’
‘’Tis all right saying do something,’ Viv said. ‘But what?’
‘Now Brenda is used to having people to chat to,’ Gill said, ‘she could go to the Day Care centre once a week. They got a volunteer car service for picking people up and dropping them off again.’
Viv nodded. ‘Kenny Barnes drives for them. He never remembers to wear his hearing aids so she can moan all she want and Kenny won’t even notice.’
‘There’s the over-sixties lunch club,’ Jess suggested. ‘Though I don’t know who’d want to sit with her.’
‘Put her with Carrie Perks,’ Viv said. ‘They both talk and neither one of them listens.’
‘I don’t mind wheeling her down to the shops,’ Mavis offered. ‘If Brenda gets out during the week, Mor could have Sunday afternoons off with Ben.’
Gill leaned across the counter behind the metal grill that separated her from customers. ‘Mor and Ben Spargo? How long have that been going on then? How didn’t I know?’
‘You haven’t missed anything,’ Jess soothed. ‘Ben called round to see Mor and brought her a bowl of hyacinths.’
‘Oh, the dear of him,’ Viv cooed. ‘That’s better than a bunch of flowers.’
‘Exactly what I told her,’ Jess said.
‘Good as gold he is,’ Gill nodded. ‘He need tidying up a bit, but Mor would look after him proper. Time she had some happiness in her life.’
On Saturday morning Jess caught the bus into town. Opening the door into Marigolds, a retro-styled tearoom decorated with framed posters and playbills from the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, she was enveloped by warmth and the fragrance of freshly baked cakes and roasted coffee beans.
Trish was at a table facing the window, sitting beside a smartly dressed woman in her early seventies with carefully styled grey hair and subtle, flattering make-up. Jess introduced herself, ordered coffee and toasted teacakes for the three of them, then explained to Angie why she had asked for the meeting.
‘Yes, Trish told me. But it was fifty years ago.’
‘Anything you can remember will help. Roughly how old was he?’
‘Now I do remember that. Brenda said he was twenty-eight. We were only twenty-one so she was taken with him being older. He had this lovely Welsh accent.’ She thought for a moment. ‘Swansea.’ She nodded. ‘Brenda said he came from Swansea. It must have been the Thursday afternoon he came into the shop. Him and a mate off the ship.’ She waited while the waitress unloaded the tray then continued.
‘He wasn’t much taller than Brenda. He had dark hair short at the back and sides, longer on top and combed back in a quiff. I can see him now, cream roll-neck sweater, brown trousers, and a navy reefer jacket.’
‘You got some memory, Ange,’ Trish smiled in admiration.
‘Most of the boys off the ships looked like a jumble sale. He looked smart. And didn’t he know it. He had a way of crinkling his eyes when he smiled. I bet he practised in front of a mirror.’
Jess sipped her coffee. ‘You didn’t like him?’
Swallowing a piece of teacake, Angie dabbed her lips with the paper napkin. ‘I wouldn’t have trusted him as far as the door. But he turned on the charm and Brenda fell like a brick. He hadn’t been in the shop five minutes when he asked her out. I couldn’t believe it when she said yes. They arranged to meet that evening.
‘When she came into work on Friday all she could talk about was how wonderful he was. They’d had a meal at the Chinese down by the quay then gone to the Grapes for a drink. She said they was so busy talking she missed the last bus so he took her home in a taxi. They went out again on the Friday evening. She told me she was going to skip work on the Saturday so they could have the whole day and evening together.’
‘And did she?’ Trish asked, clearly fascinated.
Angie nodded. ‘But when she came into work on the Monday I could see something wasn’t right. One minute she looked ready to cry, the next she was tossing her head and being rude to the customers. I asked her what was wrong and she told me to mind my own business. I said fine, but if she carried on like she was, she’d be in trouble with the manager. If she didn’t feel well she should have stayed home. She said she couldn’t, her mother kept asking questions and wouldn’t leave her alone. When we went up for our tea break it all came out.
‘After the most wonderful evening of her life,’ Angie rolled her eyes, ‘Stevie paid for her to have a taxi home. She was going in on the eleven o’clock bus Sunday morning so they could spend the day together. Then she’d take him home for tea to meet her parents.
‘Well, when she got off the bus he wasn’t there. So she walked out toward the docks, thinking she’d meet him coming through the town. But she didn’t see him. The guard at the dock gates told her the ship had sailed early that morning. Well, you can imagine the shock that gave her. But he wouldn’t have had no say in it. She asked if Stevie had left a message for her. The guard said he hadn’t.
‘Brenda was sure he was lying, that he’d lost the note. She swore blind Stevie wouldn’t have gone without a word, not after all they’d been to each other.’ Angie shot Jess a look full of meaning. ‘She came up with all these excuses and reasons why he’d hadn’t been able to let her know. She kept saying he would write.’
‘Did he?’ Trish asked.
Angie shook her head. ‘Not a word. When she realised she was pregnant she asked me to go with her to the Citizens Advice. They told her what to ask for at the reference library. Once she’d got the address of the shipping line, she wrote to him care of the ship. I think she was hoping he’d come back and marry her.’
‘Did she receive a reply?’ Jess asked.
As the tables around them had filled so the noise level had climbed but Angie kept her voice low. ‘Her letter was returned unopened with a note saying there was no one of that name aboard the ship. Call me suspicious but you got to wonder who wrote it. Maybe he had left that ship and joined another. Anyway, she wasn’t the same after that.’
‘How do you mean?’ Trish asked before Jess could speak.
‘First off she was stunned. Then she turned very bitter.’ Angie dabbed her mouth again, then dropped the crumpled paper napkin on her empty plate. ‘I’d warned her to be careful but she’d fallen for him and wasn’t listening. Anyhow, by the time Morwenna was born he was long gone.’
‘So how did she get his name put on the birth certificate?’ Trish asked. ‘I thought the father had to be there when the birth was registered.’
Angie leaned forward lowering her voice again. ‘Blackmail.’
Jess felt her brows climb.
‘What?’ Trish’s eyes widened.
Angie nodded. ‘George Lawry, the registrar, was married to Brenda’s Auntie Glenys. Lovely chap he was. Ever so kind when Father died. His wife was Brenda’s mother’s sister. Led him a dog’s life she did. How he stuck it I’ll never know. But that’s what you did back then. Anyway, before Morwenna was born Brenda used to come round to my house a couple of evenings a week. I was still living at home. The walk back to the bus stop took her past Lucy Tallack’s house. Lucy was two years a widow then.
‘One evening Brenda sees her uncle coming out of Lucy’s front door. A couple of weeks later when she came in town for some shopping, her mother asked her to drop in her auntie’s birthday present to save posting it. Brenda didn’t want another tongue-lashing
about the shame and disgrace she’d brought on the family so instead of going to her auntie’s, she took the parcel to her uncle at the register office. There was no one with him but Brenda smelled Lucy’s perfume. She recognised it because Lucy always bought it in White’s on special order. She didn’t say nothing, just gave him the present and left. Then after Morwenna was born she went to register the birth. When her uncle said he couldn’t put Steven Ludlow’s name on the certificate, not without him being there, Brenda told him she knew about him and Lucy Tallack and if he thought his life was difficult now, imagine what it would be like if she told Auntie Glenys.
‘She was laughing when she told me next day. She said it was just a guess, but his face went white. She said if he filled out the certificate like she asked, she wouldn’t breathe a word to a soul.’
‘But if Brenda hated that Steven,’ Trish said, ‘why did she want his name on the birth certificate?
Jess and Angie exchanged a glance and Jess gestured for Angie to reply.
‘Because she wasn’t going to let anyone say she didn’t know who’d fathered her child.’
Chapter Five
Jess unpacked her shopping then made herself scrambled eggs on toast. She washed up, replenished the woodburner, made a cup of tea, switched on her laptop, and settled down at the table with a notebook and pen.
After working out the year Steven Ludlow was born she checked the births register for Swansea and found twelve people with similar names for that birth year. Next she checked the Merchant Navy lists. Finding his name, she was able to access his service record and cross-reference it with the name of his ship.
Checking the Register of Marriages revealed that when Morwenna was born in 1966, Steven had already been married for four years. That would explain why he had left without a word. Poor Brenda.
Jess downloaded and printed a copy of Steven’s marriage certificate showing his wife’s first name, her maiden name, and her father’s name and occupation. Then she checked the electoral roll. She soon learned that Steven Ludlow and his wife, Margaret, had had a daughter named Kathleen in 1963. The dates indicated Margaret was pregnant when they married.
Jess refilled her cup. How would Morwenna take the news that her father was a philanderer and that she had an older half-sister? Patsy in the reference library had warned her that one of the downsides of researching people’s family history was the discovery of sad, bad, or mad ancestors. But Jess had a responsibility to pass on whatever she learned. Besides, what shocked or horrified one person might intrigue and fascinate another.
On Sunday morning Jess opened the door to Morwenna’s knock.
‘Come in, Mor.’
‘I can’t stop long. I told Mother I had to go down the shop.’
‘How is she?’
Morwenna sighed. ‘I can’t do nothing right.’
‘Oh Mor, I’m so sorry. Maybe once she starts going out and chatting to people –’
Morwenna shook her head. ‘She won’t go. Mavis came in to tell her about the Day Care and Mother went mad, told her to get out and mind her own business. Mavis went, but I wasn’t having no more of it, not after all Mavis have done. I told Mother that if it hadn’t been for Fred taking me to and fro she wouldn’t have seen me the whole time she was in the hospital. There’s no buses from the village in the evenings, and I couldn’t afford taxis, not at ten pound each way.
‘I said it was you and Mavis who had cleaned up while I was at work so the place was decent for her to come home to. Shaking I was.’ Morwenna pressed a trembling hand to her chest. ‘I’ve never spoke to her like that before, never.’
‘What did she say?’
‘That she never asked for you to clean up, and she can’t abide the colour. I told her that was too bad because I love it. She just stared at me then threw herself back on the pillows and started howling and raging. So I went out to the kitchen and left her get on with it.’
‘Wow! Good for you.’
‘Just thinking about it do put my stomach in uproar.’
‘I’m not surprised. But next time will be easier.’
‘No, it won’t. She’ll make me pay. She always do.’
The sympathy Jess had felt for Brenda evaporated. ‘Mor, she’s bedridden. If you weren’t there to bath her, make her meals, change her bed, and do the housework she’d have to have carers in. That would mean a strange face every day, only staying ten minutes, no time to do anything useful because they have too many people to rush off and look after. You’re a wonderful daughter, and don’t let anyone tell you different.’
‘While she was in hospital it was like a holiday,’ Morwenna said wistfully. ‘I had a bit more time to sit down of an evening. And I could choose what I wanted to see on TV.’
‘Well, sit down now while I tell you what I’ve found out.’
Morwenna was quiet for a few moments after Jess had described her meeting with Angie. ‘So he was married all along. If Mother knew he was the one in the wrong, that he had led her on knowing he wasn’t free, maybe she would be mad at him instead of me. Trouble is, if I tell her, she’ll want to know how I found out.’
‘You don’t have to make any decisions now. Give yourself time to think about it.’
‘Will you keep all this for me?’ Morwenna gestured at the documents.
‘Of course I will.’
‘I remember Granny and Grampy Crocker of course. But I never thought about Father’s family. Well, I wouldn’t, seeing I didn’t know nothing about him. You’ll go on looking?’
‘Until you tell me to stop.’
Morwenna picked up her bag, crossed to the door, then glanced back. ‘Ben have asked me to walk down the cemetery with him this afternoon. He go once a month to tidy up and put flowers on his mother’s grave. I’d like to, but –’ She shook her head.
‘But what?’
‘Mother’s only just out of hospital.’
‘She’ll be warm and comfortable on the sofa or in bed. You can leave her a drink and a snack. She can watch TV or have a nap. You’ll only be out for a couple of hours. As soon as you get back, make her a cup of tea and tell her who you’ve seen.’ Jess watched Morwenna’s thoughts play across her face like breeze-driven clouds.
‘Yes, I will. I’ll go.’
Touched and amused, Jess followed her. ‘I hope it stays dry for you.’
‘Think I should tell him, do you? Ben, I mean. About Father being married and all?’
‘That’s your decision, Mor. Maybe you and Ben could go for a walk every Sunday. It doesn’t have to be to the cemetery.’
‘I could bake a cake and take it over. Ben love a bit of cake, so do Percy.’
‘Then make Sunday afternoons your time off. If your mother makes a fuss and starts yelling at you, walk away and don’t go back until she stops. You’ve done it once. You can do it again.’
Morwenna’s quick hug took Jess by surprise. ‘I’m some grateful for all you done.’ She gave a decisive nod. ‘I’ll tell Ben I’ll go with him.’ She opened the door and Jess saw Tom walking up the path.
‘All right, Tom?’ Smiling and rosy-faced, Morwenna hurried down the path.
‘What’s up with Mor? She’s looking very pink.’ He followed Jess inside, pausing to wipe his feet.
‘Ben’s invited her out for a walk.’
‘He has? About time too.’
‘They’re going to the cemetery.’ Jess bit her lip as their eyes met.
Tom grinned. ‘Well, it takes all sorts. You found her father yet?’
‘He was already married when he met Brenda. Which explains why he disappeared. Anyway, what brings you here? It’s a lovely surprise,’ she added, ‘but unexpected. I thought you were busy.’
‘I am. But I had to come up to the shop for milk and thought I’d stop by and see how you are.’
She gestured towards the notebook and papers surrounding her laptop. ‘To stop my brain melting I’m alternating your accounts with Mor’s research.’
‘I’ll lea
ve you to get on then.’ He bent forward, kissed her cheek, and inhaled deeply. ‘It was worth coming just for that. Smell lovely you do.’
‘Go and mend a boat.’ Jess shoved him gently out of the door, warmed by both kiss and compliment.
‘I’ll phone you,’ he said, giving a brief wave as he went down the path.
Jess went back to work. But on the next set of records she found, Steven Ludlow was no longer at his address. Margaret and Kathleen were still there, but the surname of the family was different and there were two more children, both boys. Checking the register of marriages Jess learned that Margaret had remarried, her condition given as widow. Her new husband was a widower so perhaps the boys were his.
Sitting back, Jess sighed. Morwenna might have made the decision not to contact her father. But his death meant that choice no longer existed.
The phone rang. Still thinking about Steven Ludlow, Jess picked up the receiver.
‘It’s Rob.’
‘Hello, love. This is a sur –’
‘Fiona and I are really disappointed.’
‘I’m sorry you feel that way. I did explain to Fio –’
‘Are your hobbies really more important than a chance to bond with your only grandchild?’
Shock and anger quickened Jess’s heartbeat and she felt it drumming in her chest. ‘That’s emotional blackmail, Rob.’
‘It’s blackmail to want the best care for my daughter?’
It cost her effort but Jess kept her voice calm and level. ‘Your daughter has a mother. Surely she is the best person to care for her child during these precious early years?’
There was a silence. ‘All right, you’ve made your point. Look,’ his voice changed and in it she heard weariness and strain. ‘Fiona has worked really hard to reach her present position.’
‘I know, Rob,’ Jess said gently. ‘She told me.’
‘Yes, but what she probably didn’t tell you was that if she doesn’t return after her maternity leave the hotel will replace her. I just – I want her to be happy.’
‘Surely you must have realised that a child would totally change your lives? Why did you choose to have a baby if –’
