‘What if people hear?’ Morwenna whispered, lifting the brown teapot of a shelf beside the sink.
‘We’ll have to make sure they don’t.’ Jess started transferring mince pies from a plastic container to a large blue china plate. ‘If people have started arriving there’ll soon be plenty of noise and chatter in the hall. Once the concert begins we need you to give it all you’ve got and encourage the audience to join in the choruses.’
Panic crossed Morwenna’s face. ‘But there aren’t no song-sheets.’
‘It’s a carol concert, Mor,’ Jess reminded her with a smile. ‘People know most of the words by heart.’
‘’Course they do.’ She clicked her tongue. ‘Don’t mind me. ’Tis just – what with Mother and now this –’
‘The choir will carry them through any verses they aren’t sure of.’ Jess opened a jar of homemade strawberry jam and began spreading it onto the sliced splits.
Downy as a peach, Morwenna’s round face was flushed with excitement and unease as she unscrewed the top on a plastic bottle of milk and peeled off the silver foil. ‘Sing my heart out, I will. But you know what the village is like. Nothing stays secret for long.’
‘It certainly doesn’t,’ Jess murmured.
‘I never asked, Jess. Not even when Mother told me to.’
Jess’s smile was wry. ‘I knew there’d be gossip. During my marriage I lived in a big house in Truro. After my husband died I moved back here to a small cottage. People were bound to wonder where the money had gone.’
Morwenna shook her head. ‘Tom don’t care about that.’
‘Tom is … we’re friends, that’s all.’
‘I should think so too. You’ve knowed each other since you was children. Now he’s divorced and you’re a widow –’
‘Morwenna!’
‘Well, you was close once. We all thought you’d get married.’
‘But we didn’t. Anyway right now there are more important things to think about. We have to keep this secret until the baby’s born and the family can be moved somewhere safe.’
‘After they’re gone I can tell Mother?’
Jess nodded.
‘She’ll be spitting feathers that she didn’t come tonight.’ Morwenna’s brief gleeful smile gave way to anxiety. ‘I’d better make that tea. Be glad of a cup myself. I never had time for one at home.’ She warmed the pot, made the tea, then refilled the kettle and switched it on. ‘Not after making Mother’s, then getting her washed and changed and finding her programme on the TV.’
‘I’ll fix you a plate.’ Jess spooned clotted cream from a tub onto the jam-topped splits. ‘You’ll need your strength tonight, and so will we.’
Opening a cupboard beneath the wide worktop above the serving hatch, Morwenna lifted out short stacks of saucers followed by every cup she could find. They rattled in her unsteady hands. ‘We’ll never have enough. Gill said the concert is sold out. There’s all the choir and –’
‘We’ll have plenty,’ Jess reassured. ‘Not everyone will stay on afterwards. We’ll ask those who are first in the queue to bring their cups back to the hatch when they’ve finished so they can be washed up ready for those who come up later.’
Tom came back and picked up the second screen. ‘Hall’s starting to fill. Want me to come back when I’ve set these up for Margaret?’
‘You’re a gem.’
‘Hold that thought.’
Opening the second of Gill’s plastic containers, Jess lifted out a sausage roll and put it on a small plate, added a split topped with jam and cream, and handed them to Morwenna.
‘Pull out one of those stools and sit for a minute while you eat this. I’ll pour the tea.’
As she was speaking, Gill came in through the back door carrying two plastic bags.
‘What’s all that? Jess asked.
‘Towels, bin bags, newspapers, and an old sheet,’ Annie Rogers said following Gill inside.
‘Evening, Jess. Morwenna, you’re looking some smart.’ Annie dropped a large scuffed black leather bag and shrugged off her raincoat to reveal a pair of black stretch trousers covered with snags and cat hairs, topped by a baggy red jumper over a red tartan shirt. Her grey hair was twisted up into a cottage-loaf bun on top of her head, a hairstyle she hadn’t altered in forty years.
‘Thanks for coming, Annie.’ Jess passed the coat to Gill who hung hers and Annie’s in the corner cupboard out of sight.
‘I went to the nativity play up at the school this afternoon, that’s how I wasn’t coming tonight. Is it right what Gill said? This couple is running from family?’
Jess nodded. ‘They were born in this country but their background is Asian and their parents are traditional. Farah refused an arranged marriage. She and Khalid were trying to leave the country because they’re afraid her father and brothers will kill her for dishonouring the family.’
Annie gave a snort of disgust. ‘Don’t see much honour in murdering your own daughter. Right, I need a basin, hot and cold water, and a bucket.’
‘D’you want an apron? Jess reached towards a drawer.
‘Brought my own.’ Lifting the bags, Annie started up the stairs. ‘That kettle boiled? Bring it up along with the rest, soon as you can.’
Another muffled moan sent Jess across the kitchen. From the cupboard under the sink she fetched a bucket. In it she placed the largest plastic bowl she could find.
Morwenna poured three cups of tea, bit into a sausage roll, and continued spreading jam on the rest of the splits.
Gill glanced up from arranging slices of quiche on more blue plates. ‘If her labour’s started – Farah is it? Pretty name. She won’t want anything. But the lad might be glad of a hot drink and a bite to eat.’
Jess could have kicked herself. ‘I never thought.’
‘Dear life, girl, you can’t think of everything. You take those things to Annie. I’ll set a tray.’ She turned as Tom came in through the hall door. ‘Tom, if you’ve got the keys, lock both doors. But let Viv in when she comes. Anyone who’s brought food can pass it through the hatch.’
With a nod and a brief glance at Jess that made her feel warm inside, Tom went out through the back door.
There he was, doing what was asked without arguing or needing to take charge. She knew from observation and experience that was rare in a man. Filling a tall enamel jug with cold water she hurried upstairs.
Khalid had pulled out an upright chair and was sitting by Farah’s head with his back to Annie, who had a stethoscope pressed to the taut mound of Farah’s belly.
Setting down bucket, basin, and jug within Annie’s reach, Jess straightened up. ‘Is there anything else you need?’
Annie removed the earpieces and hooked them around her neck. ‘Another large basin and some supper for young mister here.’
‘Gill’s getting a tray ready.’
Khalid looked round, features tight, eyes narrowed in anger that couldn’t hide his fear. ‘How can I eat?’
‘You’ll be no good to your girl if you don’t,’ Annie said. ‘She needs you to be strong. So does this baby. You got trouble enough. Don’t go looking for more.’ She paused, her abrupt manner softening a fraction. ‘Come on, my ’andsome, a blind man could see you’re hungry.’
Annie’s flat gaze held Khalid’s stormy one. He broke first and turned his head.
‘What about baby clothes?’ Jess asked. ‘Khalid?’
‘There are a few things in Farah’s rucksack. We had much more but –’ His eyes filling, he swallowed hard.
‘Never mind,’ Jess said. ‘I bought a couple of sleep suits and vests for my little granddaughter. As soon as the concert starts I’ll run home and fetch them.’ Waving away his thanks, she crossed to the door.
‘Jess,’ Annie stopped her. ‘I’ll need a pack of pads, large size, and disposable nappies.’
As a groan was forced from Farah’s lips, Jess glanced at her watch. 7.25. She hoped the concert started on time.
In the kitchen Gi
ll had folded back one of the hatch doors. Leaning forward she shouted, ‘Anyone who has brought refreshments bring them here to me.’
Several women hurried over with tins and Tupperware but didn’t linger, anxious to return to their seats.
The back door opened admitting Tom and the sound of male voices laughing and bantering.
‘The choir’s going in through the stage door,’ he said searching the bunch of keys.
‘Hang on, Tom,’ Gill said. ‘Don’t lock our soloist in. We need her out there tonight.’
Draining her cup, Morwenna wiped her mouth with a hanky that she tucked up her sleeve. Unbuttoning her cardigan she pulled it off.
‘Give it to me,’ Gill said. ‘I’ll put it with our coats. Now you go out there and lift the roof off.’
‘Here,’ Jess held out a half-full glass of water. ‘Leave it in the wings. If it’s there you won’t need it.’
Settling the lapels of her cream blouse Morwenna took a deep breath and lifted her chin. Beaming at Jess and Gill she took the glass. ‘We’ll give that baby a proper welcome.’
Viv arrived as Morwenna was leaving. ‘All right, Mor? How’s your mother?’
‘Same as usual.’
Viv nodded in sympathy. ‘Sorry I’m late,’ she said as Tom relocked the kitchen door. ‘Jimmy was late home then the cat was sick.’ Short and barrel-shaped, Viv placed a large square biscuit tin on the stairs and shrugged off a gold anorak with a fur-lined hood, revealing purple leggings and a tomato red sweatshirt.
Gill blinked. ‘Dear life, Viv. Where’s my dark glasses? Stop traffic, you would.’
‘Go on, you’re just jealous.’ Viv picked up the tin and brought it to the worktop. ‘I like red. It cheers me up.’
‘We could do with some of that tonight,’ Tom said, climbing the stairs ahead of Jess who was carrying the tray Gill had prepared.
‘Why? What’s –’
‘You tell her, Gill,’ Jess said over her shoulder.
As well as two plates of food, one savoury one sweet, and a cup of tea for Khalid, the tray also held one for Annie and a glass of cold water and a spoon so Khalid could feed Farah sips.
Tom opened the door, pulling it closed again as soon as Jess had stepped inside. Khalid jumped to his feet and lifted another hard wooden chair from the pile, clearly relieved to have something to do. Jess placed the tray on it then carried one cup and the glass of water to Annie who was spreading an old towel over a wad of open newspapers on a black bin bag.
‘Thanks, Jess. Put them back out of the way so I don’t knock them over.’ She smiled at Farah. ‘Roll over a minute, my bird, so I can slide this underneath you. And back again. There, that’s handsome.’ She covered Farah with the blanket.
Jess crouched by Khalid, who had turned his chair so he could not see Farah’s body or Annie. She felt for him. Not every man would choose to attend the birth of his child. Not every woman wanted her husband or partner present.
‘Why don’t you go and sit over there while you eat.’ She nodded towards a space behind the door. ‘Farah couldn’t be better looked after. Annie has delivered hundreds of babies.’
‘I should not be here, seeing this,’ he whispered.
‘Would you like to go downstairs with Gill, Viv, and Tom? The doors are locked. No one else can come in.’
‘No, I can’t leave her. But watching her suffer –’
‘Come on,’ Jess slipped her hand under his arm, guided him across to the space behind the door and, pulling a chair around pushed him onto it.
Through two closed doors she heard a burst of applause. Margaret Hitchens played the introductory bars to ‘Silent Night’. Hearing Morwenna’s clear soprano, recalling the excitement on her face as she promised to sing her heart out, Jess felt a thickness in her throat.
Though the past two years had seen her life change out of all recognition, she had so much to be grateful for.
Her gaze fell on a pile of folded materials of different colours and textures. Alongside were coils of frayed rope removed when those drawing the heavy stage curtains were replaced and kept in case one day they might be of use.
‘Annie, how about I rig up a curtain to give you and Farah some privacy?’
Annie’s gaze flicked towards Khalid who was sitting bent forward, elbows on his thighs, head in his hands. She gave a brief nod. Raising her voice she spoke to Khalid. ‘That food won’t eat itself, boy. I want to see those plates clean. I can’t be doing with you passing out.’
He jerked upright. ‘I won’t. I –’
‘You’ll eat the supper these ladies have been good enough to prepare for you. All right?’
‘Yes, Miss – er … Mrs –’
‘Annie will do just fine. Well? What are you waiting for?’
Catching her lower lip between her teeth to hold back a grin, Jess tied one end of the rope to a curved wrought iron coat hook, the innermost of six mounted on a painted board nailed to the wall alongside the window. Annie had all the finesse of a steamroller. But beneath her blunt manner her heart was marshmallow.
Crossing the room, Jess looped the rope around an old gas mantle bracket fixed to the inner wall. Pulling it tight and tying it off, she let the remaining rope hang down the wall and pool on the floor. Unfolding one of the curtains with care to avoid releasing too much dust she hung it over the taut line. Now Farah, Annie, and the sofa were hidden from anyone entering the room. Jess turned to reach for a second curtain but Khalid, hastily swallowing a mouthful of cheese and onion quiche, had already picked it up.
Behind the curtain Farah groaned, her voice rising.
‘Why are you being so kind?’ he whispered as they hung faded crimson velvet over the rope and pulled it straight.
‘You needed help.’
‘You don’t know us.’
‘What’s that got to do with anything? I have children, so do Tom and Viv. Gill lost a son to meningitis. Before Annie retired she delivered many of the children born in this village. Most of them are down in the hall with their families singing carols to celebrate the birth of Jesus. In an hour or two you and Farah won’t be a couple, you’ll be a family. You can make your own traditions.’ She patted his arm and grinned. ‘This may not be where you’d have chosen for your baby to be born. But it’s better than a stable.’
She drew him back to his chair. ‘Sit down. Finish your supper. If you don’t mind me asking, why did you come to Cornwall?’
‘We didn’t plan to. We caught a train to Plymouth for the Roscoff ferry where friends would meet us.’
‘What went wrong?’
Khalid raked his hair. ‘I had checked the timetable so I knew that in December there are no sailings at the beginning of the week. We intended to catch the Thursday evening one. But the booking clerk told us that it had been cancelled because of a strike at Roscoff. We went to the cafeteria to decide what to do. Farah wasn’t feeling well.’
‘I’m not surprised, poor girl.’
‘She’s had contractions before, especially this past month. There’s a name –’ he broke off, frowning as he tried to remember.
‘Braxton Hicks?’
Khalid nodded. ‘We hoped her pains were just stress. Then a lorry driver came over. He’d heard us talking to the booking clerk. He told us he lived in Cornwall and was on his way home. He said if we were willing to pay he knew someone with a boat who would take us over to France.’
About to speak, Jess bit her tongue instead. Khalid nodded.
‘I know. Why would we trust him? But I was desperate. He dropped us off by the pub car park. He said to wait under the trees and someone would come. He said the boatman would need to buy fuel to take us across. I gave him £40 and said we’d pay the rest once we reached France. We waited and waited. It was raining and Farah’s pains were coming more often. I didn’t want to go into the pub, in a small place people remember strangers, but we needed shelter. Then I saw a man go into the hall and lights came on. He’d left the back door open and I could hear
him clattering about at the far end. So we came up here. Then the lights went off and he left.’
‘Lucky for you the carol concert was tonight,’ Jess said.
He shuddered. ‘I never should have – but I was so afraid – Farah is everything to me. If anything happens –’
‘You’re safe. No one knows where you are.’
‘The lorry driver –’
‘Forget him.’ He’ll have forgotten you. She kept the thought to herself. ‘Would you like anything more to eat?’
He shook his head. ‘Maybe later.’
‘Once this baby arrives Farah will be ravenous. I know I was. I’ll put a couple of plates aside.’ She put her head round the curtain as Farah sobbed in a breath and opened her eyes.
‘Getting stronger are they, bird?’ Annie glanced up from tearing the sheet into four pieces. ‘Like a drop of water?’
Farah nodded, the tip of her tongue snaking out to moisten her lips.
‘Would you, Jess? Not too much.’
Jess held the glass to the girl’s lips while she took a mouthful.
‘It hurts,’ Farah whispered.
‘Once your baby’s here you’ll forget all about this.’ Annie unhooked the stethoscope from her neck and gently fitted the earpieces in Farah’s ears then held the round end to the girl’s belly. ‘Hear that? It’s your baby’s heart beating.’
Wonder softened the girl’s strained features. ‘Oh!’ she breathed. ‘It’s so fast, like a bird fluttering.’ Then she caught her breath, her eyes closing as another contraction took hold.
Gently Annie removed the stethoscope and put it aside. ‘Time to get you ready.’ She washed and dried her hands, tipped the used water into the bucket, then rinsed and refilled the basin. Handing both kettle and jug to Jess she snapped on a pair of latex gloves.
‘Back in a minute.’ Jess flashed Khalid a quick smile then closed the door and ran downstairs.
‘How’s it going?’ Tom looked round from plating sandwiches.
‘OK I think. I’d forgotten what hard work childbirth is, though.’
‘Good job too,’ Viv said. ‘If you remembered the pain, you’d never have more than one.’
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