Moving On (A Polvellan Cornish Mystery Book 6) Read online

Page 11


  The male voice choir led the singing of ‘Love Divine.’ The minister blessed their union. Then the choir sang Ave Maria while Jess and Tom followed the couple into the vestry to witness them signing the register.

  As Mor and Ben emerged arm in arm, flushed and beaming, the organist struck up the Wedding March. After photographs outside the church, Mor and Ben made their way up the path, their progress slowed by the number of people wanting to wish them well. They climbed into the beribboned taxi that would take them back to the village hall.

  ‘Well, Minister done a proper job,’ Percy announced as Jess helped him into Tom’s crew-cab and got in beside him. ‘Lovely service it was. Mor looked ’andsome, dear of ’er.’

  Fred put the folded wheelchair in the back seat and climbed in after it. Jason was driving his mother in Fred’s van that had been thoroughly cleaned, inside and out, especially for the occasion.

  ‘So did Ben,’ Jess looked across at Tom as he climbed in, shut his door and started the engine. ‘How was he this morning?’

  ‘Put it this way, good job he’ve got an electric razor else he’d have been cut to ribbons. Shaking like a jelly he was. I gave him a whisky to settle him down.’

  Jess laughed. ‘I gave Mor brandy. Tina and I had a drop with her. We’ve all been on a knife-edge in case there were any more hiccups. But it’s done now, and it was a beautiful service.’

  ‘Be you two next,’ Percy cackled.

  Startled, Jess glanced at Tom, but they had reached the crossroads and he had turned away to check for traffic.

  While Tom and Fred helped Percy into his wheelchair, Jess hurried in through the hall’s main doors, both now open and fastened back. She saw pub landlord Joe Sawle pouring sparkling wine into glasses.

  ‘Where –?’ she began.

  ‘Loo,’ he whispered, nodding towards the far end of the hall.

  Mor was washing her hands. She looked up with a luminous smile as Jess walked in. ‘Wasn’t it ’andsome?’ She carried on talking as Jess went into a cubicle, raising her voice above the whirr of the hot-air drier. ‘Minister must have said they words hundreds of times, but you’d have thought we was the first. He made it special.’

  ‘You are special,’ Jess said, washing her hands then joining Mor at the dryer. ‘Is Ben OK?’

  ‘He was shaking even worse than me, dear of him. After we signed the register and we was waiting for you and Tom, he kissed my wedding ring and said that while he had breath in his body I’d never want for nothing.’ Her face crumpled.

  ‘Hey, don’t you dare,’ Jess nudged her gently. ‘There’s a crowd of people waiting to see you. What are they going to think if you go out looking like you’ve been crying?’

  Mor gasped. ‘Oh my Lord! I never –’

  ‘It’s all right. No harm done.’ Grabbing a tissue from the little box on the edge of the basin, she carefully dried Mor’s eyes. ‘All right, Mrs Spargo, time to meet and greet.’

  Mor looked wistful. ‘I don’t want to sound ungrateful, but I wish –’

  ‘I know,’ Jess said softly. ‘But in a few hours you’ll be home, just you and Ben, with the door locked, starting your new life together. Ready?’

  Mor drew a deep breath and gave a brisk nod as the door opened to admit Viv and Gill.

  ‘Oh Mor, that was the best wedding –’ Gill began.

  ‘In floods we was,’ Viv added.

  ‘Can’t stop,’ Jess pushed Mor ahead of her. ‘Ben’s waiting for his wife.’

  ‘We’ll catch you later.’ Viv’s voice was cut off by the closing door.

  Tom was standing with Ben, whose anxious expression relaxed into a smile as he saw Mor heading towards him. Jess joined Tom alongside the couple as guests began arriving.

  Half an hour later, glancing outside for Tom’s son Chris who had been sent over to the pub by Joe for another crate of beer, Jess saw a couple she didn’t recognise looking uncertain as they stood a short distance from the door.

  She went out. ‘Hello, can I help you?’

  The woman glanced at the man beside her who gave an encouraging nod. She turned back to Jess. ‘Is this Morwenna Crocker’s wedding reception?’

  Jess nodded. ‘You’re half right. She’s Morwenna Spargo now. She and Ben were married an hour ago. Are you Kathleen?’

  Astonishment crossed the other woman’s face. ‘How did you –?’

  ‘Mor told me she’d written to you and was hoping you might make it. I’m Jess Trevanion.’ She offered her hand.

  ‘She told us about you,’ the man said. ‘We’re Kathleen and Wesley Richards.’

  ‘Come on in.’

  Kathleen glanced towards the door and the sound of laughter and conversation. ‘We wouldn’t want to intrude.’

  ‘You won’t be. Mor will be delighted to see you.’

  Leading the way in, Jess caught Mor’s hand. ‘Look who I found.’ She stood aside and gestured the newcomers forward. ‘Kathleen and Wesley Richards, this is Mor Spargo and her husband Ben.’

  Mor’s smile widened as she seized Kathleen’s hand. ‘You came! I wasn’t sure if – but here you are. Ben,’ turning she caught Ben’s sleeve and drew him forward. ‘This is my half-sister, Kathleen.’ Her hand slid down and her fingers entwined with Ben’s. ‘This here’s my husband, Ben.’

  As everyone shook hands, Jess left them to chat. She started towards the kitchen hatch but a hand caught her elbow and steered her away.

  ‘No you don’t,’ Viv said. ‘They can manage. You’ll only be under their feet. Anyhow, after the morning you’ve had it’s time you sat down and took it easy.’

  ‘How do you know about my morning?’

  Viv shot her a droll look. ‘I been there, bird. I still have nightmares about Charlene’s wedding day. Ranting one minute, in floods the next. Near drove me mad she did. You won’t have had no tantrums from Mor. But I bet she was nervous, dear of her. And trying to keep someone calm don’t half take it out of you.’

  ‘I’d love a cup of tea.’

  Viv led her to one of the tables by the wall. ‘You stop there and I’ll fetch it.’

  Jess was glad to sit and watch as the hall filled and people settled at tables. She felt privileged to have played a role in Mor’s big day. The expression on Mor and Ben’s faces as they spoke their vows to each other had been deeply touching.

  She remembered her own wedding day, her hopes and dreams for a new life with Alex. She caught herself. No point raking over the past. But she had to make a decision. Nor did Harry Carveth have any part in it. He had come to the village to sell his mother’s house. Now an offer had been made, the agent and solicitors would take over. There was no reason for him to stay.

  ‘You’re looking some thoughtful,’ Viv said, setting saucers holding two filled cups on the table. ‘What’s on, bird?’

  Jess shrugged. ‘Tom, decisions.’

  ‘Ah. Well, you know what they say.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘Life’s a bitch and then you die.’

  Jess surprised herself with sudden laughter. ‘Thanks, Viv,’ she said dryly. ‘That makes me feel a lot better.’

  Viv grinned. ‘Here, who’s that couple talking to Mor and Ben?’

  Jess explained. The tea revived her. Then it was time to join Tom and Percy at the top table for speeches and photographs as Mor and Ben cut the two-tier cake Gill had made and decorated.

  Afternoon faded towards evening. Brianna Pellow, wearing a tight white shirt and short, black stretchy skirt that revealed bare brown legs, moved between tables replenishing plates of food. She was helped by Michelle Sawle and Eileen Laity, and Denise Hooper topped up cups from a large teapot.

  Everyone made a fuss of Percy who revelled in the attention. Jimmy joined Viv and Jess. Then Annie came over to say she had informed Kathleen that Mor’s mother Brenda had been a bitter woman who blamed Mor for being born and made her life miserable.

  ‘I told them, Mor’s sweet nature was a miracle and people thought the wo
rld of her. I’ve seen what happens when families suddenly turn up after years of silence. It won’t do any harm for them to know Mor’s got plenty of friends who won’t stop looking out for her just because she’s married.’

  Jess put an arm around Annie’s shoulders. ‘You old softy.’

  Annie glanced at her then looked away as she murmured, ‘I might come and see you sometime, all right?’

  Jess was surprised, but this was neither the time nor place for questions. ‘Of course. Give me a ring to make sure I’m there and I’ll put the kettle on.’

  With a brief nod, Annie moved away.

  ‘Hello, stranger,’ Tom smiled. He was holding a half-pint glass with an inch of beer in the bottom. From the glitter in his eyes Jess guessed this wasn’t his first.

  Jimmy arrived. ‘All right, Jess? Some ’andsome day, idn it? OK if I drag Tom away? Chap over there want a word.’

  ‘It’s fine, Jimmy.’

  ‘Catch you later,’ Tom said over his shoulder.

  Mor hurried over. ‘Jess, d’you think I ought to ask Kathleen and Wesley back for a meal?’

  ‘No! For goodness’ sake, Mor, this is your wedding day. Invite them to come down in a few weeks’ time.’

  Mor’s shoulders sagged in relief. ‘I’m some glad you said that. But I didn’t want them to think they wasn’t welcome.’

  ‘Mor, they didn’t let you know they were coming, even though you’d written twice. They just turned up. And you welcomed them with open arms.’

  ‘Yes, but –’

  ‘No buts. You and Ben have been through months of stress. If you’d been going away on honeymoon, you’d be getting changed now. You certainly wouldn’t be planning to cook for unexpected guests.’

  ‘That’s true.’

  ‘Tonight is just for you, a chance to relax in your own home and relive a wonderful day.’

  ‘That’s what I want.’ She nodded and hurried away.

  The choir, holding glasses of beer, jackets unbuttoned, faces flushed and shining, began singing ‘The White Rose.’ Jess saw Tom wheel Percy out with Annie at his side, and guessed the old man wanted to leave without any fuss.

  Two songs later Mor and Ben came over to tell Jess that Kathleen and her husband had just gone. They were stopping the night at Liskeard and said they’d like to come down again, but they’d stay at a B&B.

  ‘To tell the truth, Jess, I’m glad of that. It’ll be lovely to see them, and I’ll cook a nice meal. But,’ she glanced shyly at Ben, ‘our place –’

  ‘Is perfect for you two, but not for guests,’ Jess finished for her.

  Mor beamed and tucked her arm through Ben’s. ‘We’re going now. Tom’s driving us.’

  Ben seized Jess’s hand and shook it. ‘Thanks for everything you done. Been the best day of my life this have.’

  People followed them out of the hall, laughing and shouting, pointing at the ribbons, good luck messages, tin cans and an old boot trailing from the tow bar. Jess grinned. Tom, Chris, Fred and Jason had been busy.

  She watched Ben help Mor into the front seat then climb in after her. Tom tooted the horn, everyone cheered, and he drove slowly out of the yard with tins rattling and bouncing, then up the main street.

  People began leaving, all saying what a wonderful day it had been. Jess looked into the kitchen. Susan was washing dishes, Eileen was drying. Viv and Gill were clearing and stacking serving plates, dividing the remaining food between the empty tins and tubs so all the helpers would have something to take home.

  She returned to the hall to help Claire fold the tables. Jimmy and Doug were stacking chairs and carrying them out to the store behind the entrance lobby. Tom came across to help them with the long trestle table.

  ‘Was Percy OK?’ Jess asked.

  He nodded. ‘I helped him undress then Annie got him settled into bed. He said it had been the best day he could remember. He’d never seen his boy so happy, nor ever thought to. I don’t mind saying it brought a lump to my throat.’ Jimmy helped him carry out the table.

  Jess smothered a yawn.

  ‘You must be on your knees,’ Claire said.

  ‘It’s been a fantastic day, but I’ll be glad to get home.’

  Tom met her at the door. ‘I promised to take Chris into Falmouth. Him and his mates are going to a gig at The Pirate. See you when I get back? At least you won’t be working tonight.’

  Jess ignored the dig because he had a point. ‘I’ll make us some supper and you can tell me about your trip.’

  He grinned. ‘Proper job.’

  As she walked into her cottage and closed the door she saw her bag of clothes on the table. Mentally thanking Elsie, she eased off her high heels and let out a groan of relief. Padding across to the woodburner, she put a match to the crumpled paper and closed the glass door. Within moments flames were licking at the sticks and logs. It was bliss to be home.

  Upstairs she pulled off her fascinator and rubbed her scalp where it had gripped. She hung up her dress and shrug, creamed off her make-up, then stood under the shower letting hot water wash away the long day.

  Comfortable in a loose shirt over yoga pants, she pushed her feet into fleecy moccasins, and went downstairs to prepare a supper of quiche, salad and new potatoes. She was setting the table when she heard approaching footsteps then the familiar double-tap on the door.

  ‘Come in, Tom.’

  ‘All right, girl?’ His hair was still damp and he’d changed his suit for jeans and a grey sweatshirt. He tossed a navy fleece over the newel post at the bottom of the stairs. ‘Brilliant day, wasn’t it?’ He drew her into his arms. ‘I’ve missed you awful, Jess.’

  She breathed in familiar scent of his skin, his soap, felt the warmth of his body against hers. ‘I’ve missed you too.’

  His mouth covered hers, his lips gentle, coaxing. As her arms went round his neck he drew her closer, deepening the kiss. Drowsy warmth became heat. After long delicious moments he drew back to look at her. ‘All that today, Jess, I want it for us.’

  Not tonight. Yet wasn’t the evening of a day spent celebrating the wedding of friends the most obvious time? She eased free and went to the fridge.

  ‘What we’ve got now is so good, Tom. It works. Why sp – change that?’

  ‘You don’t want to marry me?’

  She straightened up, putting a jar of chutney on the worktop. ‘I don’t recall you ever asking.’ She spoke lightly, not mocking but making her point. ‘I think I’d remember.’

  ‘I’m asking now.’

  That wasn’t a proposal. It was a challenge. ‘I’m so sorry, Tom. I can’t.’ He was loyal, kind, honest and he made her laugh. She enjoyed his company, and he was a thoughtful and passionate lover. But for the first time in her life she wasn’t responsible for anyone but herself. She had freedom to choose when she worked, ate or slept.

  Living with someone demanded compromise. She knew from experience and observation that women did most of the compromising. It would be different with Tom. Why would it? He was a man, and men had in-built expectations of the woman they lived with.

  He looked at his feet then turned and lifted his fleece from the newel post. ‘I thought we – But if that’s how you feel.’ At the door he paused, his face pale and set. ‘Maybe we should take a break, see other people. Find out if what we got is worth saving.’

  Jess stared at him, startled then angry at what sounded very much like blackmail. Yet she had to admit he wasn’t being unreasonable. If she wasn’t ready to commit – and she wasn’t – what right had she to expect him to hang about?

  ‘OK, if that’s what you want.’ The words emerged calmly, but behind her folded arms she ached.

  His chin rose. ‘’Course it bleddy isn’t, and you know it. But time’s going on, Jess, and I’ve had enough of being on my own. Yes, Chris is living with me and he’ve settled in well, dear of him. But he’s eighteen, so it won’t be that long before he’s got a girlfriend or is looking to find a place of his own. So what I’m sayi
ng is, if you don’t want me, fair enough. You won’t mind me looking to see if someone else do.’ He gave a farewell nod and left, closing the door quietly behind him.

  Jess looked at their untouched supper. Even if she felt like eating, she’d never get anything past the choking lump in her throat. She covered the food with film, put it in the fridge and cleared the table. She knew she had done the right thing so why did it hurt so much?

  Chapter Eleven

  Jess hadn’t expected to sleep. But exhaustion from the emotional demands of the day had knocked her out within moments of her head touching the pillow.

  She woke at six. Overnight the weather had changed and the opened curtains revealed a thick blanket of cloud. While the kettle heated she cleaned out the ashes, re-laid the fire and lit it. Within moments flames were dancing behind the glass, making the room instantly more cheerful.

  Having eaten nothing since the reception buffet, she was hungry. A bowlful of Stan’s raspberries was followed by a thick slice of toasted granary bread spread with peanut butter and sliced banana. Putting her dishes in the washing-up bowl and a mug of coffee on the table, she slid the portrait from its slot between the wall and dresser and propped it up on the sofa.

  She had just opened her laptop when the phone rang. Her heart lurched as she glanced at the clock then snatched up the receiver.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘Ma, it’s Rob. I hope I didn’t wake you?’

  ‘No, I’m making an early start. Is everything all right?’

  ‘Not exactly. Fiona came back last night to pack her things. She’s moving in with her lover.’

  ‘What?’ Jess was stunned. ‘But when – I mean, how long –?’

  ‘Quite a while apparently.’ Rob’s tone was cool, but Jess knew her son. Helped by his training he would present a calm face to the world, while inside …

  ‘Oh, Rob, I’m so sorry.’

  ‘We weren’t happy, Ma. You must have known that. Helen’s arrival just pushed us further apart. Fiona’s decision to stay away while Helen was in hospital made her priorities clear. I knew then I couldn’t go on, and it’s obvious that she already intended to leave.’