‘Give me Mo,’ Tamsyn reached up for her.
‘Are you sure … if Catriona’s that ill?’ Jed said.
‘What she’s got isn’t catching,’ Tamsyn said. ‘Catriona has recently given birth to a baby, a baby that she hasn’t told anyone about. And she’s in a bad way. Quickly.’
Looking shocked, Jed transferred Mo into Tamsyn’s arms as he knelt on the floor beside his friend, taking her hand.
‘It wasn’t raining when I left her,’ Catriona’s voice was barely more than a whisper. ‘It was warm, and the rain had passed. I thought that someone would be there, for evensong. I would never … I didn’t mean … I didn’t want …’
‘Here she is.’ Tamsyn held Mo as close to her face as she could. ‘See? She’s well, and beautiful, and so full of personality, even at two days old. Your little girl is perfect.’
‘She doesn’t deserve a mother like me,’ Catriona wept, turning her face away. ‘She deserves so much better than a silly old woman like me.’
‘I can hear the sirens,’ Jed said. ‘They’ll be here any second, Catriona, hold on.’
‘Look at her,’ Tamsyn said. ‘Please, just look at her face.’
Slowly, Catriona turned her head, and mother and daughter looked into each other’s eyes. Mo mewled, one thick, chubby hand batting against Catriona’s cheek.
‘See how she knows you,’ Tamsyn smiled. ‘She’s saying hello.’
‘I love you,’ Catriona told her daughter just as the room filled with paramedics and Tamsyn was ushered out of the way, into the hall, where she waited with Sue.
‘I’ll go with her,’ Jed said as they wheeled Catriona out on a gurney. ‘I’ll ring you from the hospital. I didn’t see; how did I not see this?’
‘You weren’t alone,’ Sue said. ‘None of us saw this.’
Chapter Twenty-three
The bridesmaids’ dresses were almost done, and Tamsyn was thrilled with the skills that the sewing circle had displayed; each stitch was perfection, each bead that had been carefully harvested from a selection of costume jewellery placed exactly as Tamsyn had instructed.
Now it was only Alex’s dress that was far behind schedule, and that was Tamsyn’s fault entirely. There was no time to think or fret or worry, and that was a good thing; the only thing she could do was take care of Mo, make the most beautiful wedding dress she could muster and wait.
Setting a smaller group onto finishing and fitting the bridesmaids’ dresses, she brought the still incomplete bodice of the bridal gown into the dining room.
‘Well, ladies and gentleman,’ she said. ‘Time is running out. It’s been a very eventful day, and we need to press on to make this dress the most wonderful garment that Alex has ever laid eyes on. She’s trusted me entirely with this project and I can’t get it wrong, so it’s all hands on deck. Are we in?’
‘Damn straight we’re in,’ cheered a tiny lady who looked around ninety, pumping her fist in the air.
Tamsyn scanned the room, looking for someone of a suitable height and build, and found Cordelia hovering in the doorway. There was a lost sort of quality about her, the way she was lingering on the edges of the action, that reminded Tamsyn of when her baby sister had been a little girl; always a bit too young to join in with what the rest of her siblings got up to, she had been forced to find her own way in the world from the start.
‘Cordy,’ Tamsyn called her over. ‘You’re the nearest I’ve got to Alex in terms of height and hips and waist, although she’s bigger on top, but that’s OK – that part of the bodice is finished, at least. You’re our model.’
‘Wait, what does that mean?’ Cordelia protested as Tamsyn caught her hand and led her into the centre of the room, pointing at a rather rickety-looking footstool that she had pilfered from the library.
‘It means you are going to stand here, on this stool, and we are going to construct the dress around you. If we all work together, it shouldn’t take more than an hour or two, and then I can finish the beadwork and embroidery on the bodice once it’s a whole piece. Kirsten, pass me the pins, please.’
Kirsten, who had been at her side since she began to work on the dress again in earnest, obliged.
Tamsyn had to admit that the way the sewing circle gathered around Cordelia as she teetered on the stool was a little bit intimidating, as if there was a small chance they might be about to pop her into something wicker and set fire to her.
‘You want me to stand on this thing for an hour?’ Cordelia asked her. ‘I’m not sure I can take it. I’m not sure it can take me. I’m a girl who eats pies, you know.’
‘I know, and we love you for it. The stool is, like, two hundred years old, so I’m sure it can last another hour or so. Woman up: this is for your brother’s wedding tomorrow.’
‘You know how much I hate being altruistic,’ Cordelia complained.
‘Yes,’ Tamsyn agreed. ‘You really are the most unpleasant person I have ever met, and yet, I don’t know … I seem to quite love you.’
‘Jesus, what’s happened to you – early menopause?’ Cordelia wrinkled up her nose.
‘An epiphany,’ Tamsyn told her. ‘The realisation that sometimes the things you already have can be more than enough. Now, if you move, I will stick a pin in you on purpose.’
The group worked in near silence for a long time, Tamsyn only looking up every now and then to check on Mo, who was lying on the floor on a brightly coloured padded mat that someone from the town had produced. She seemed to like it better than her carrycot, her black eyes seeming to look around and take in the beautiful plaster ceiling. Tamsyn smiled as she paused for a moment to watch her. It had been only two days, and yet she’d become so used to having the little girl in her life that she had started to feel like a permanent fixture. She supposed that some silent part of her fevered brain had even begun to entertain the idea of becoming her permanent foster-mother, and even perhaps one day adopting her. It wasn’t something that Tamsyn had thought or even felt consciously, but now that Mo wasn’t a lost baby any more, now that they at least knew who her mother was, if nothing else about the circumstances of her birth, the time that she would be in Tamsyn’s care would now be whittled down to hours. And yet, as much as she would miss her, the best that she could hope for Mo would be to return her to her mother. Closing her eyes for just one second, she thought of Catriona and wished her better, as if perhaps wishing might be enough to make it so.
It was strange how you could know a child for so short a time, a child so tiny, so barely there in many ways, and feel so attached to them so completely. For a person so small, Mo had ensnared Tamsyn with the force of her personality, her charm and sweetness, and yes, it had happened in the space of just two days: Tamsyn had fallen in love with the little girl. And if she could fall in love with her after only two days’ acquaintance, then did that mean she could fall in love with someone else too, someone who sometimes wore a dog collar and looked awfully good wet?
Don’t think about it, Tamsyn, she told herself. Don’t think about anything except Alex’s dress. The dress is all that matters.
Gradually, as they worked, the room filled up with more and more people coming to watch, although Alex was not one of them. Lucy and Gloria had taken her out for something approaching a hen night. Although the town was still mainly closed, they had salvaged a couple of bottles of champagne from the pub cellar and had hired a cab to take them to a disco in nearby St Austell. As for Ruan, Laura said he was at the lighthouse, busy making it ready for when he brought his new bride home. Rory came in, followed by Rosie and Eddie. Brian Rogers arrived carrying a battered old acoustic guitar, which he began to play, perched on the edge of the table. Skipper and the rowdy dogs had been shut away somewhere, probably with the children, but Buoy walked into the room, with statesmanlike dignity, and after turning around three times placed himself next to Mo, his nose pointed at her head, appointing himself her protector. Tamsyn was sure that the tiny child smiled when she saw him.
Tam
syn was certain that by now everybody had heard the news about Catriona, but nobody mentioned it. The crowd that gathered wasn’t there to gossip or speculate; even Sue, who came in and set up a tea urn at the far end of the room, away from the dresses, was quiet, thoughtful. As the group sewed on, carefully placing each stitch with the sort of care and attention that Tamsyn rarely saw, Mo began to fret, causing Buoy to cock his head to one side and whimper in return. It was Keira who picked her up from the mat and, cradling her in her arms, began to sing to her. Just a soft, tuneless murmuring at first, which gradually became a hum, which slowly turned into a song Tamsyn recognised. It was ‘Somewhere Over the Rainbow’, and it only took a moment or two for Brian to pick up the tune and accompany her. Before long, the group of seamstresses began to join in and hum along, a few picking up the lyrics and crooning them under their breath, and then even Kirsten, followed by the bystanders, all gently singing as Keira rocked the baby, until finally Cordelia, her beautiful voice soaring over the group, joined in, smiling at Mo as she sang. Tears pricked behind Tamsyn’s eyes at the outpouring of love and care that was being directed at one tiny, lost little person, and her equally lost mother. Everyone who had come into the room tonight hadn’t come to sneak a peek at the dresses, or even just to socialise. They had come because they wanted to be near each other. It was an impulse that came out of instinct more than anything, to come together and keep watch over baby Mo for her mother’s sake. It was a vigil.
The song was repeated once more, and Mo settled into one of her deep baby sleeps, from which nothing would rouse her. Keira didn’t put her back in her carrycot, but held her close against her chest, kissing the top of her head as the people in the room fell back into companionable silence.
‘There.’ Tamsyn stood back as she secured the last panel of the skirt into place and looked at the dress, complete except for the final beadwork and embroidery that had yet to be done on the bodice. ‘You have been truly amazing, Poldore sewing circle: look what you have made.’
A rash of smiles broke out as everyone looked at the dress, and gradually a ripple of applause went around the room, gaining in momentum as it travelled, until finally it snowballed into cheers and whoops, and Tamsyn laughed as the ladies of the sewing circle (and the one gentleman) hugged each other and punched the air as if they had just won the World Cup or landed a spaceship on the moon. It was the sound of Sue’s phone ringing that stilled the celebration. The whole room turned to look at her.
‘Jed,’ Sue told them. She held the phone to her ear. ‘Hello?’
The room waited, and Tamsyn was sure that everyone was holding their breath, just as she was.
‘Yes, yes, of course. He’s asked for you.’ She held the phone out to Tamsyn, who put her scissors back in her pocket and took the phone, and, aware of dozens of pairs of eyes on her back, walked out of the room into the dark, shadowy hallway.
‘Jed?’ she said.
‘I thought you should know first,’ Jed said, the sound of his voice in her ear comforting her at once. ‘Catriona’s in a bad way. Not all of the placenta was delivered after the birth, it seems. She obviously wasn’t aware of that. I don’t suppose she knew what to expect after giving birth by herself. Having kept the pregnancy a secret for so long, she was determined it should stay that way.’
‘Oh my God, the poor woman,’ Tamsyn breathed. ‘Have you found out why?’
‘She hasn’t been coherent since they put her in the ambulance, but the doctors say she must have delivered Mo on her own, left her at the church and then tried to go back to life as it was before. She developed an infection and then, when the placenta worked its way loose, she lost a lot of blood. They took her straight into theatre the moment we got here, and she’s hooked up to all sorts of antibiotics now. Can’t really get much sense out of her, but the doctors think they’ve caught the infection before septicaemia has had a chance to set in. They’re confident she’s going to make a full recovery, in time.’
‘Oh, thank God,’ Tamsyn breathed, finding herself sitting down on the top stair of the grand staircase, as her legs felt less than reliable. ‘I mean, thank goodness. That’s good news. I’ll tell Mo.’
‘There’s still a lot to try and understand,’ Jed said. ‘Like how I can work with a person every single day and not know or notice what she was going through. Let alone the fact that she was pregnant. And who’s the father – where he is now? And why Catriona thought she couldn’t ask me for help. I spent a lot of time with her shortly after her mother died, which was around the same time that this must have happened. I talked to her a lot, and she to me. I let her down.’
‘You didn’t,’ Tamsyn said. ‘I think she couldn’t bear to talk about something she couldn’t even bear to think about. It happens. People try to hide from the things they are thinking and feeling all the time. There are things that both you and I have kept to ourselves, aren’t there? Even though they might be really, really obvious to others. People still feel afraid, and try not to notice the feelings.’ There was a pointed silence between them. ‘Anyway,’ Tamsyn ploughed on, ‘if you think about it, it was you that she had the most faith in.’
‘How do you work that out?’ Jed’s tone was weary, but warm, Tamsyn thought. She leant her ear towards him.
‘Well, it looks as if she was planning on entrusting Mo to you. She left her at the church, expecting you to find her. And that is exactly the way it would have worked if it hadn’t been for the storm, and for me and Buoy. You would have found her. Catriona trusted you with her.’
There was silence on the other end of the line, and even though she couldn’t see his face, somehow Tamsyn could feel the sadness in Jed, the exhaustion and the worry. She wished she could put her arms around him and hug him, the way she had under the kitchen table, only perhaps without the cramp and the numb bottom, the inappropriate topless kissing and the awkward aftermath.
‘Where are you going to go now?’ she asked him. ‘Not back to that draughty old vicarage to be alone?’
‘No,’ Jed said. ‘I’m going to stay here, at the hospital, in case she wakes up and wants to talk. I’m not really supposed to stay the night, but the nurses seem very friendly, and they’ve said I can sleep on the sofa in the family room if I promise not to bother anyone.’
‘Ah, those friendly nurses,’ Tamsyn smiled, imagining what an impact the handsome, caring, distraught young vicar would have on the nursing staff. ‘But you won’t forget to come and marry Ruan?’ Tamsyn asked him. ‘I’ve nearly finished the dress; the sewing circle has been so amazing.’
‘I’ll be there,’ Jed said. ‘Funny to think how much has happened since I found you under that tree. I feel a little bit like I met you, and my whole life changed in an instant.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ Tamsyn said unhappily.
‘Don’t be sorry,’ Jed said. ‘I’m not. Tamsyn, you know what you said about how people try not to know things that they know …?’
There was a series of beeps and the call ended. When Tamsyn tried to return the call and it went straight to Jed’s voicemail, she guessed that his battery must have died. She listened to the sound of his voice on the answerphone, but didn’t leave a message. She had no idea what to say.
Everyone was waiting as she went back into the dining room.
‘They think she’s going to be fine,’ Tamsyn told them, taking Mo from Keira’s arms and kissing her on the tip of her nose. ‘Did you hear that, my little one? Your mummy is going to be fine.’
Chapter Twenty-four
Tamsyn woke up on a chaise longue in the dining room, her eyes snapping open as the first light of the June dawn flooded in through the huge windows. She had meant to go to her room after Mo’s last feed at about three, and had just closed her eyes for a moment, but clearly things hadn’t worked out quite the way she planned them. It took a moment or two for the events of yesterday to come flooding back to her and she sat up in a panic, wondering if she had also forgotten to finish the dress, but there it was
, in all its splendour, hanging from a chandelier. And truth be told, it really was a little bit wonderful.
Picking Mo up, who, it seemed, had been guarded all night by Buoy, who was stretched out at the side of her carrycot, Tamsyn looked at the gown, sparkling like the sea in the morning sunshine, and felt a rush of happiness surge through her. She had made this; she had created this dress from scratch and it was hers – well, it was Alex’s, but hers too. The last twenty-four hours of frenzied designing and sewing had created something that would always be special to its recipient, not just for a day or a season, but for ever. And it was the most wonderful feeling.
‘Do you know what, Mo?’ Tamsyn said. ‘I think I might have found my vocation.’
There was a cough behind her, and Tamsyn turned to see Alex, wide-eyed and white as a sheet, her dark hair tousled and tangled, looking like she hadn’t had a wink of sleep.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said, ‘but I am getting married today and I thought it was a bit odd that everyone at the wedding has seen the dress except for me, the bride, in person.’
‘Or the groom,’ Tamsyn said, beckoning her in. ‘Here,’ she stood aside to reveal the dress. ‘What do you think?’
As Alex took in the gown, her eyes filled with tears and her mouth dropped open.
‘Oh God, do you hate it?’ Tamsyn asked her. ‘Did I get it wrong? I really thought I’d got it right. That’s my design strength, you know, sensing what a client really wants. Or at least, I thought it was. Well, if the worst comes to the worst I can get a job as a waitress.’
‘No … it’s perfect.’ Alex’s voice was thick with emotion. ‘It’s beautiful. It’s so much better than the one I chose for myself. And yet, it is the dress I would have chosen for myself. How did you know?’
‘I was inspired by the Lady in Blue in the portrait in the hallway,’ Tamsyn said. ‘I know everyone wants to be married in white, but I don’t know why. Your eyes are so stunning, and this pale blue colour matches them perfectly. Those panels come from a nineteen fifties evening gown that I found in the attic. I beaded and corseted the bodice to fit you exactly, so that you shouldn’t need any underwear. Want to put it on?’
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