by Rachel Ennis
She walked briskly down to the yard, arguing with herself about the wisdom of what she was doing. But she needed to know. Knocking on the house door, she stepped back and waited.
The door opened revealing Tom’s ex-wife wearing a dressing gown.
‘Oh, it’s you,’ she said before Jess could speak. ‘If Tom hasn’t phoned, could be he doesn’t want to talk to you.’ She shut the door.
Shaken, Jess didn’t move for a moment as she tried to make sense of what had just happened. Turning away, she crossed the road to the yard and peered into the office. Tom wasn’t there. Of course he wasn’t. If he had been, he would have rung her, wouldn’t he? She walked through the open double doors into the main shed.
Doug and Chris had their backs to her. They were sandpapering new planks that had been scarfed into a wooden hull. With the radio playing and the sound of the coarse rasping, they hadn’t noticed her. She took a breath and stretched her mouth into a cheerful smile.
‘Hi, you look busy.’
As they both turned she caught the fleeting glance they exchanged.
‘Hello, bird,’ Doug said. ‘How ’e doing then?’ His smile was warm. Being younger and less practiced at hiding his emotions, Chris wouldn’t meet her eye and was clearly uncomfortable. Jess didn’t want to make things more difficult for him. She decided not to mention calling at the house and seeing his mother still in her dressing gown. What was going on?
‘I won’t hold you up,’ she kept her tone light. ‘I’ve been trying to reach Tom. Is he around?’
‘No, bird.’ Doug shook his head. ‘He had to deliver a yacht up to Fowey. Went four days ago he did. Surely he told you?’
He wasn’t even here. ‘He might have tried to, Doug. But there seems to be a fault on the landline and I haven’t been able to reach his mobile.’
Jess’s thoughts tumbled. If he hadn’t been home, then Susan couldn’t have given him her message. Why lie and say she had? More to the point, why hadn’t Tom called her himself? ‘No matter. It’s not important. We’ll catch up when he gets back. I’ll let you get on. ’Bye.’
Back home, thirsty after her walk, her heartbeat still faster than normal, Jess gulped down a glass of squash then got on with making her farmhouse cake. But while she weighed and mixed, all her worries circled back to one question: Why hadn’t he rung her?
Once the cake was in the oven, Jess washed up then did an hour’s research. After her evening meal she went upstairs. Her neck and shoulders ached, and she could feel the start of a tension headache. Instead of a shower she soaked in the bath for half an hour, then put on an old, soft sweatshirt and jogging bottoms and went back down.
Nothing on TV held her interest. She picked up a paperback she’d been meaning to read for ages, lay on the sofa with her head propped on cushions, and opened it to the first page.
Chapter Six
A knock on the door jolted her awake and she sat up, the book sliding from her lap onto the floor. She picked it up and put it on the low table unable to remember a single word. A second knock brought her to her feet, blinking.
‘Coming!’ Flexing her shoulders she crossed to open the door.
‘Tom!’
‘Hello, Jess.’
His hair was still damp from the shower and he was wearing clean jeans, a butter yellow polo shirt and a navy V-neck sweater. Tanned by sun and wind, at first glance he looked well. But dark smudges under his eyes spoke of exhaustion. Lines at their corners and a groove between his brows hinted at strain. He appeared to have suffered from their separation as much as she had. For an instant she was fiercely glad. But that quickly evaporated as she realised there could be other reasons for his stress, none related to her.
‘You going to let me in?’
Moving back she opened the door wider, closing it as he stepped inside. Turning, he reached for her.
‘Can I have a hug?’
She was tempted. So tempted. She had missed him so much. ‘I’d like an explanation first.’
‘Look, I’m sorry. OK?’
She indicated the sofa, waiting until he sat, elbows propped on his knees as he raked both hands through his hair. She sat at the other end, tucking one leg under her so she could face him.
‘What exactly are you sorry for? Not returning any of my calls? Moving your wife back in –’
‘Hang on a minute. ’Tisn’t nothing like that. You want me to explain, so give me a chance. I only got back from Fowey an hour ago. Chris told me you’d been down to the yard. They thought you knew where I’d gone.’
‘How? How was I supposed to know when we haven’t spoken for nearly two weeks?’
He raised his hands, accepting the blame. ‘I was going to phone you from the boat. It wasn’t till after I was out past St Anthony that I realised I’d left my mobile at home. I went to a public box in Fowey but someone had ripped the handset out. I tried again from a pub but it was noisy and when I got your answer machine I thought you might still be away.’
‘Why didn’t you leave a message?’ Yes, it sounded needy but she wanted to know.
‘I was worried about cluttering up the machine so there wouldn’t be room if someone phoned you about work. Soon as I got home I checked my mobile to see if you had rung me. But you hadn’t.’
‘That’s not true. I rang your mobile several times but it was switched off. Tom, I was away for two weeks. You’ve only been in Fowey four days.’ They looked at each other for a long moment.
‘I know. But when … I couldn’t say what I wanted to on the phone.’ He cleared his throat. ‘The minute I got in I asked Susan if you’d rung. She said she didn’t know.’
‘That’s a lie. I spoke to her yesterday. All she said was that you weren’t there and if you hadn’t rung maybe you didn’t want to talk to me. I rang half a dozen times from Liskeard, and twice when I got home. I thought there was something wrong with your landline. It sounded as if the connection was made but then the line went dead. When were you going to tell me Susan had moved back in? I didn’t enjoy having that thrown at me by Amy Terrell.’
‘What? What has Amy Terrell –?’
‘She had a go at me outside the shop, accusing me of coming on to Colin while he was mending my roof. I wouldn’t touch him if he came gift-wrapped, but that’s not the point. When I said I was in a relationship with you she laughed and asked what Susan thought about that seeing that she had moved back in.’
‘Amy and Colin Terrell deserve each other,’ Tom snarled. ‘I’m some sorry about that, Jess. I swear it isn’t what it looks like. I know I should have told you.’
‘Why didn’t you?’
‘I was afraid you wouldn’t understand.’
‘Don’t you dare turn it back on me,’ she returned in a rare flash of temper. ‘You didn’t give me a chance to understand.’
‘I’m sorry. Honest to God, Jess. I never meant for you to be upset. I should have asked, how’s your uncle?’
‘Gone back to Canada with his son for a month. Don’t change the subject. You didn’t phone me and I couldn’t reach you. Then I get home and I’m told your wife has moved back in.’
‘Ex-wife. She’s my ex-wife.’
‘Whatever.’
‘I’m sorry, Jess. I didn’t want to tell you over the phone. If you’d been here, I could have come round. You had to go, ’course you did. It’s just – You know I aren’t good with words. Trying to explain and not being able to see your face – I couldn’t. So I didn’t ring because I kept hoping she’d be long gone before you got back. I’d still have told you. I don’t want no secrets, Jess. I wouldn’t hurt you for the world.’
‘Well, you have.’ Jess pushed herself off the sofa. ‘Do you want coffee or tea?’
‘Tea, weak. My stomach feel like it’s on fire.’ He dry-washed his face. ‘These two weeks – I missed you awful.’
There was no doubt he meant it, and though she felt comforted, he still hadn’t told her what was going on.
‘So why is Susan back?�
�� Jess moved about the kitchen area setting mugs and plates on a tray, then cut two slices from the farmhouse cake, and put one on each of the plates.
Tom knelt by the woodburner, put another log on the glowing embers, and closed the door. He straightened up. ‘Need a hand?’
‘No. I’ve got it.’ As she poured tea into the mugs then picked up the tray and carried it to the low table in front of the sofa, he returned to the sofa. Jess sat, still keeping a space between them.
‘You’d only been gone a couple of days when Susan turned up. She’ve been rowing with Jason over Chris. Chris don’t like him and Jason don’t want Chris around. She said she couldn’t bear no more of them going at each other, each one expecting her to take his side. She had to get away but didn’t have nowhere to go. I wasn’t happy about it, Jess. Truth is I was bloody furious. But Chris was glad he didn’t have to go back to Jason’s house. He’d always felt like he wasn’t wanted there. But Susan had fought for custody and because of his age he had to go with her.’
Jess nodded, and sipped her tea. She could easily understand Chris’s resentment at being unwelcome when he’d been given no choice.
Tom gulped down a mouthful and sat forward, gazing into his mug as he cradled it. ‘Next she’s saying she realised she made a mistake. She wants us to get back together.’
Though this didn’t come as a surprise, Tom’s words still had the impact of a punch to Jess’s stomach. But before she could respond, he was shaking his head, disgust clear on his face.
‘I don’t believe a word of it. She’ve always liked pulling strings and playing games. Not this time. Not ever again. She was the one who walked out. She wanted the divorce. She was pushing for me to sell the yard so she could have money from that. Father built that yard. It was his house ’fore he left it to me. Thank Christ I had a good solicitor. Soon as I got the decree I was finished with her.’
‘Do you regret it?’ Jess asked quietly.
‘Not for a minute. Only thing I regret is what the boy went through. But he’s all right. He’s doing well at the yard and at college. I told Chris no way was his mother and me getting back together. But if he wanted to, he could stay with me full-time.’ He looked up at her. ‘He only went and hugged me. The relief on his face … Hit me hard that did.’ He shook his head. ‘I never knew he was so miserable. He never said. Prob’ly didn’t want to upset his mother.
‘I told Susan she could stay in the spare room just for a few days while she made up her mind if she was going back to Jason. If she wasn’t, she’d have to find a place of her own. She said she’d been talking to him on the phone. Then I got this call to deliver a yacht to Fowey. I was hoping when I got back she’d be gone.’
Jess drank the last of her tea and replaced her mug carefully on the tray. Neither of them had touched the cake.
‘Why didn’t you tell me? Didn’t you trust me?’
‘God, Jess, ’course I do. I was always going to tell you. I just wanted Susan gone first. I kept thinking about what you went through each time your solicitor gave you more bad news about Alex. I didn’t want you worried. But the longer it went on, the harder it was to know what to say, and the worse it would’ve looked.’
Rising from the sofa, Jess carried the tray to the worktop. ‘You’re right about that.’
Tom stood. ‘So are we OK again now?’
Yes. She wanted so much to go to him, hold him close, breathe in his warm familiar smell. She gripped the edge of the worktop to stop herself.
‘You must do what you think best. But while Susan is still in your house, our relationship is on hold.’
He flinched as though she had struck him. ‘C’mon, Jess. You’re being unfair.’
‘So were you when you didn’t phone.’
‘I didn’t ask for any of this.’
‘Nor did I. You could have stopped it right at the start. When Susan turned up on your doorstep you could have told her she had no claim on you or your hospitality. But you didn’t.’
‘Please, Jess. I was trying to do the right thing –’
‘Right for who? You say you knew how it hit me when all of Alex’s nasty secrets came tumbling out. Yet you kept me in the dark. Every day I tried to reach you. I waited and waited, hoping you would call. I knew Viv or Gill or Annie would have called me if you’d been hurt –’
‘God, Jess.’ He paled, visibly shocked. ‘I never thought –’
‘No, you didn’t,’ as her voice wobbled she stopped, swallowed. ‘Go home, Tom. Come back when you’ve sorted out your priorities.’
Colour flooded his face and his eyes glistened. He started to speak, shook his head, and crossed to the door. She saw him hesitate then he left without looking back.
She put the cake back in the tin and stood at the sink, blinded by tears.
After a night of uneasy dreams and an hour spent downstairs with a cup of hot chocolate at 3 a.m., Jess got up at seven. Horrified by her reflection in the bathroom mirror, she showered, then filled the basin with cold water and held her face in it until black spots danced across her vision and she absolutely had to breathe. Her eyes were still as swollen as stops on the chapel organ.
Dressed, her damp hair combed back, she went downstairs and wet a kitchen towel under the cold tap, then thinly sliced a cucumber onto one half of the towel, folded it over, and placed it carefully on the glass lid of the crisper drawer at the bottom of the fridge. She forced herself to eat cereal and toast. Wadding like cotton wool in her mouth, she needed mouthfuls of coffee to wash it down. Grimly determined, she kept chewing. She was an independent woman with friends and two small businesses, not a love-sick teenager.
But Tom’s actions had raked up a very painful past and brought back memories she had worked hard to bury. How could he not have realised that his keeping secrets would make her feel undermined?
She caught herself, aware she was in danger of sliding into self-pity. Tom hadn’t deliberately set out to hurt her. Susan was Chris’s mother, and had probably arrived in floods of tears. Any decent man would have found the situation hard to deal with. But knowing that didn’t make his decision not to contact her hurt any less.
She washed up, cleaned out the woodburner and re-laid the fire then hung out the washing she had done in the middle of the night. She wiped over every surface – dust was the only downside of the woodburner – and worked off the last of her mood with the vacuum cleaner.
After washing her hands she took the chilled cucumber mask from the fridge and stretched out on the sofa with it over her closed eyes. Instantly soothed, she drew a deep breath.
Forty minutes later she entered the kitchen through the village hall’s back door as Frances Chiddock walked past carrying a tray of side plates. Nodding out of courtesy, Jess didn’t bother with a greeting, knowing she would get no response.
Glancing into the hall, she saw the tables had been set up and spread with blue paper cloths.
Viv stood at one of the kitchen worktops, slicing two large treacle tart tray-bakes into squares.
Jess crossed to her side. ‘Feeling better today?’ she asked, and immediately wished she hadn’t as Viv’s eyes filled.
‘Don’t mind me.’ Viv sucked in air then gave a shaky laugh. ‘Worse than a tap I am.’
‘Shall I put the kettle on –?’ Jess began.
‘No. I’m all right. ’Sides, though Gill made the soup last night, there’s only you, me, Susan and the ice queen to serve and clear away.’
Susan. Though Susan Haines and Tom’s ex-wife were two very different people, hearing the name stung Jess’s nerves like an electric shock.
Viv nudged her and leaned in close to whisper. ‘Do you know what Susan put me in mind of? A custard cream biscuit.’
Jess looked at Susan Haines’s beige skirt and cardigan and ivory blouse below light brown hair threaded with grey. Her face was bare of make-up and her bony shoulders hunched as she cut and buttered soft rolls. Why would any woman try so hard to be unnoticeable? There had to be a r
eason … It was none of her business.
‘No Annie today?’
Viv shook her head. ‘She’ve gone down to sit with Percy. She took ’n some soup and a fresh roll, and I gave ’er two slices of tart with a dollop of cream on for each of them. Just ’cos she isn’t here don’t mean she should miss out.’
‘That was kind of you, Viv.’
‘No such thing. Annie will make sure Percy take his medicine and he’ll be glad of the company. He’ve got to be all right for the wedding. Break Mor’s heart it would if he couldn’t be there. Can you take out the cutlery? They only need spoons for soup and afters.’
Jess did as she was asked, then returned to the kitchen. ‘All done.’
‘’Andsome. Give the soup a stir?’ Viv continued spooning cream onto each dish of treacle tart.
Frances was setting up cups and saucers for tea and coffee after the meal. Susan had buttered all the rolls and arranged them in pyramids on four large serving plates.
Jess crossed to the huge pan on the cooker hob. As she lifted the lid the savoury aroma of chicken and ham with carrots, pearl barley, spring onions, and baby turnips made her mouth water.
‘It’s ready.’ She heard footsteps and chattering voices. ‘Here they come.’
Frances rolled up the serving hatch. Catching Susan Haines’s eye, Jess gave her a friendly smile that was met with a nervous twitch of the thin mouth.
As Jess ladled the soup into lipped plates, four to a tray, Viv carried the first tray out. Hearing her cheery greetings to each person she passed, Jess felt a rush of warm affection. Viv had put aside whatever was bothering her to make every person coming through the doors feel welcome.
She knew – they all did – that for some of the elderly widowers, this might be the only opportunity in their week to chat to someone.
Most of the single or widowed ladies belonged to various village groups and clubs. A few of the men sang in the choir, played bowls, or walked down to the park to watch a cricket match. Others had withdrawn, finding the effort of mixing too great. But coming here gave them a hot meal they hadn’t had to prepare for themselves, and company they knew well enough to relax with.