Secrets and Lies: A Polvellan Cornish Mystery Read online

  Jess had wondered about serving soup all year round. But when she suggested cold meats or quiche with salad, Viv and Annie had laughed.

  ‘Ask the men. See what they say.’

  The response was uniform horror. If the ladies wanted rabbit food, they could have it at home. The Wednesday Lunch was a thick tasty soup, buttered rolls, and a nice pudding. That’s what they liked and they didn’t want nothing changed thank you very much.

  Frances took the next tray. Viv returned for another, and Susan carried plates of buttered rolls to each table, waiting long enough for each person to help him or herself. She managed a smile, but didn’t speak.

  ‘Is it right what Gill said, that you done a family tree for Dr Jelbert?’ Viv asked as she carried the large two-handled pan to the sink.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘So, did you find anything shocking?’

  Jess laughed. ‘Ask him.’

  ‘Oh, yes,’ Viv scoffed. ‘Like he’d tell me.’

  Frances Chiddock stalked past. Jess picked up a tray and followed her out into the hall to collect dirty plates. They returned to the kitchen at the same time. Viv had turned the taps on and hot water was gushing into the washing-up bowl.

  Frances unloaded her dishes on the worktop and turned away.

  ‘Have you got a minute?’ Jess spoke softly. ‘While I was searching local newspaper archives yesterday I came across an article concerning a court case involving Frank Nicholls. I believe he’s your father?’

  Frances’s face drained. Her blusher stood out in two pink daubs on ashen cheeks. As she flushed deep crimson her mouth quivered. ‘You have no right to go digging into my family –’

  ‘No, I don’t, and I wasn’t. I came across it by accident while looking for something I had been asked to research. The point I’m making is that I’m not a gossip and I respect people’s privacy.’

  ‘What do you want, thanks?’

  Jess stifled a sigh. ‘No. You’re not receiving any special treatment. I thought you’d like to know, that’s all.’

  Leaning forward, Frances hissed, ‘What he did destroyed our family. Mother was never the same. We lost our home and had to leave the village.’ She drew herself up. ‘I don’t need favours from the likes of you.’ Her voice dripped bitterness. Still flushed, she crossed to the urn to fill the huge teapot.

  The likes of me? With a mental shrug, Jess took a knife from the drawer and started slicing her cake.

  ‘What was that all about?’ Viv whispered. ‘I swear, Jess, if looks could kill you’d be pushing up daisies. I don’t know what’s wrong with her.’

  ‘Nor do I. So I told her the only time I trace people’s family trees is if I’m asked.’

  ‘And you’re paid,’ Viv added, nudging her.

  ‘That too,’ Jess agreed.

  ‘Cost much, do it?’

  ‘Depends on how far back someone wants me to go and how long it takes. I charge an hourly rate plus the cost of photocopies of documents and access to specialist sites. Why? Do you want me to do a family tree for you?’

  ‘Don’t need it, bird. My nan know all about mother’s family going back several greats. You know that house at the corner where the road goes down to the marina? When Nan was young her mother ran it as a tearoom. But before that it was the village workhouse.’

  ‘I never knew that.’

  ‘See, I aren’t just a pretty face.’ She paused. ‘Anybody ever asked you to look for people who aren’t their relations?’

  ‘Detective Inspector Clemmow wants me to try and find out who the bones are. But if you mean searching for people who’ve gone missing, that’s usually a job for a private detective. I believe you need a licence to be one of those. Why?’

  ‘I just wondered. Want to take that cake out, do you? I’ll make a fresh pot of tea.’

  Chapter Seven

  At 6.45 the following evening, Tina Parry, slim as a reed in skinny white jeans, wedge-heeled mules and a multi-coloured short-sleeved tunic, walked up Jess’s path carrying two large holdalls.

  Seeing her through the window, Jess hurried to meet her, took one of the bags and felt her arm dragged down. ‘This weighs a ton.’

  Tina grinned. ‘You said a make-over so I brought everything. I haven’t had to walk far. Sam dropped me off by your gate. He’s gone back to the marina for an hour then he’ll be coming up to the pub. How many you got coming?’

  ‘With me there’ll be six: Gill, Annie, Viv, Mor, and Claire Griffin, the vicar’s wife…’

  ‘She got lovely hair. But it’s some wild. Think she’ll let me trim it do you?’

  ‘Ask her. I bet she’s sitting in the chair before you’ve got the words out. Listen, this is our treat for Mor. I’ll settle up with you before you leave.’ Jess led the way inside, dropping the bag on the worktop.

  Tina nodded. ‘I been wanting to get my hands on her for years. A decent cut and restyle and the right make-up will take years off her.’

  ‘She’s never had the opportunity to make the most of herself.’

  ‘You got that right,’ Tina said. ‘My nan knew her mother. Nan said Brenda Crocker never had a good word for anyone.’

  ‘People like that are usually very unhappy.’

  ‘Trouble is they try to spread it around. I’ll never know how Mor stood it all those years. She never turned bitter neither, though she could’ve.’

  ‘Mor’s a dear. That’s why we wanted to do this for her. The wedding is still a while off, but having the make-over now gives her time to get used to the new her.’

  ‘Good idea.’

  ‘There’s four towels,’ she pointed to the neat pile. ‘If you need more –’

  ‘No, I brought some with me.’

  Hearing voices approaching up the path, Jess turned with a smile. ‘Brace yourself.’ She opened the door.

  Viv and Gill came in first, followed by Annie who had Mor’s arm through hers. Claire brought up the rear. They were all carrying a cake tin or plastic container and Jess was warmed by the laughter and teasing as everyone put their contribution to supper on the worktop.

  ‘You can let go of her, Annie,’ Viv said. ‘Now we got her in here, she isn’t getting out again ’til Tina’s finished.’

  ‘I don’t want nothing too –’ Morwenna began, visibly nervous.

  ‘Park your bum, Mor.’ Viv pointed to the sofa Jess had moved to the other side of the woodburner, to face the kitchen and the tall stool in the middle of the floor. ‘Jess’ll make you a nice cuppa tea.’

  Tina grinned. ‘And while you drink it you can watch me give Viv a trim.’

  ‘Me?’ Viv yelped, one hand flying protectively to the twist of thick, fair hair anchored to the top of her head with an enormous purple and silver slide. As Tina raised an eyebrow she shrugged. ‘Come to think of it, p’rhaps I could do with –’

  ‘If nobody minds,’ Claire interrupted, ‘I’d like to be first. I’m fed up with looking as if I’ve been plugged into an electric socket. Is that all right with you, Morwenna? This is your evening.’

  ‘No, I don’t mind. Give me a chance to catch me breath. Been all go today it have.’

  Tina beamed. ‘I dearly love a challenge. But I can’t do it dry.’

  Jess opened a cupboard and took down a large plastic jug. ‘Here. Fill the washing-up bowl and put it on the draining board. Unless you want to go upstairs and use the shower head while Claire hangs over the bath.’

  Claire shook her head. ‘No. I don’t want to miss anything. This is fine.’

  ‘While I shampoo Mrs –’

  ‘Claire, please.’

  Tina unzipped one of her bags and lifted out make-up remover wipes, cold cream, a bag of cotton wool balls, a plastic bottle of toner, and two large make-up palettes with clear plastic lids. ‘While I shampoo Claire, the rest of you choose a partner.’

  ‘What for?’ Viv demanded.

  ‘You’ll take turns.’

  ‘I thought you were going to –’ Gill said.

 
‘I am. But I don’t put new makeup onto a face that hasn’t been cleansed first.’

  ‘I’m no good at this,’ Annie muttered. ‘I’ve never worn makeup.’

  ‘Time you started then,’ said Viv.

  ‘At my age?’

  ‘What’s age got to do with it? The point of makeup is so you still look like yourself, only better.’

  ‘Says the woman with all the colour sense of an explosion in a paint factory,’ Annie muttered.

  ‘C’mon, Annie,’ Viv patted the sofa. ‘Sit down and relax. You’re going to be cleansed.’

  ‘You do Mor,’ Jess told Gill. ‘I’ll set out the food.’

  As Annie sat beside Mor and Gill went round the back of the sofa to stand beside Viv, Tina handed each of them a soft headband. ‘To keep your hair off your face. Jess, you do yourself.’

  After the wipes, pores were closed with toner. Then while Claire sat on the stool, her head wrapped in a towel, Tina demonstrated on Mor the correct way to apply moisturiser.

  ‘Go lightly, ’specially round the eyes. And always use upward strokes on your throat and cheeks. You don’t want to drag your skin down.’

  ‘Mine’s heading south all on its own,’ Gill sighed.

  ‘You could always try what that famous romance writer used to do before she was interviewed,’ Jess said.

  ‘What’s that then?’ Viv asked.

  ‘She would press transparent sticky tape to each side of her face, pull the skin up tight, hook the tape over her ears, and arrange her hair to hide it.’

  ‘She never!’ Viv said, trying it with her fingers.

  ‘Going for the Chinese look are you?’ Annie enquired.

  ‘All right,’ Tina broke in. ‘The two on the sofa swap with the two standing behind.’

  ‘Just as I was getting comfortable,’ Annie grumbled.

  ‘So I done a good job then?’ Viv demanded.

  ‘Not bad,’ Annie grudged. ‘My face feels nice and fresh.’

  Tina replaced the wet towel on Claire’s head with a dry one around her shoulders and began combing and cutting.

  ‘Where are you having the wedding, Mor?’ she asked.

  ‘In the chapel.’ She looked at Claire. ‘Don’t mind, do you?’

  ‘Mor, it’s your wedding. You can have it wherever you like.’

  ‘I looked up old wedding superstitions on the Internet,’ Jess said. There’s a rhyme for every month. September’s says, Marry in September's shrine, your living will be rich and fine.’

  ‘What about “Something old, something new,” Gill said. ‘Where did that come from?’

  ‘Probably from some tight b … person’ Viv corrected herself quickly as Claire grinned.

  ‘Neat save there, Viv. But don’t worry on my account. I’ve heard and said things that would make your teeth curl.’

  ‘Go on then, Jess. What do it say?’ Mor asked.

  ‘The proper rhyme is: something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue, and a silver sixpence in your shoe.’

  ‘I never knew about the silver sixpence,’ Gill said, surprised.

  ‘Nor me,’ said Jess. ‘Apparently the something old represents the couple’s friends. It was also traditional for a happily married woman to give the bride an old garter so her happiness would be passed on to the new bride.’

  ‘Well I never,’ Annie said. ‘You live and learn.’

  ‘Go on, Jess,’ Mor urged.

  ‘Something new is the adventure into a hopefully happy and prosperous future. Something borrowed is often something valuable lent by the bride’s family to show the love and support of family and friends.’

  ‘Only family I got is my half-sister Kathleen,’ Mor said. ‘Think she’ll come do you? I wrote but I haven’t heard nothing back from her. There won’t be no one my side of the chapel.’

  ‘Don’t be so daft,’ Annie said. ‘There won’t be a seat to spare.’

  ‘It’ll be standing room only,’ Jess agreed. ‘All your friends will want to be there.’

  ‘See, that’s what’s nice about friends,’ Viv said. ‘You choose each other. You’re stuck with family. My ma and mother-in-law don’t speak. Put they two in a room together and you could cut the air with a knife.’

  ‘Why?’ Claire asked.

  ‘I reckon ’tis jealousy. See, Jimmy’s mother was widowed five year ago. She didn’t have an easy marriage. Very controlling he was. Anyhow, last year she started seeing someone. Lovely chap he is. He think the world of ’er. Mother is in a taking about it. I dunno why. She couldn’t’ve asked for a better man than Father.’

  ‘Proper little ray of sunshine you are tonight.’ Annie wiped Viv’s face with a toner-soaked pad.

  ‘So where did something blue come from?’ Mor asked.

  ‘Ancient Israel,’ Jess said. ‘A bride used to wear a blue ribbon in her hair representing love and faithfulness. A silver sixpence in the shoe is so the couple will have wealth in their married life.’

  ‘I’ve got a box of old coins at home in the dresser drawer,’ Annie said. ‘There’s bound to be a silver sixpence in there.’

  ‘That’s some good of you, Annie.’

  ‘Another old tradition is to give the bride five almonds,’ Claire added. ‘Standing for health, wealth, fertility, happiness, and a long life.’

  Tina put down her scissors and comb. ‘All done.’ She took the towel from Claire’s neck, handed her a mirror, and stood behind her with another. ‘What d’you think?’

  They all looked at Claire who studied her reflection, turning one way then the other, a smile spreading across her face.

  ‘I love it! You’ve taken years and pounds off me. Glory be. I’ve got cheekbones!’

  As everyone voiced their admiration, Jess fetched a soft broom from the cupboard in the corner and swept the mass of cut hair into a pile.

  ‘Right, Mor. Your turn. Before I start on your hair, have you decided what you’re going to wear? Hope you don’t mind me saying, but white wouldn’t do you no favours. Best if I show you.’ From a plastic bag in her holdall Tina took out half a white sheet and fastened it round Mor’s neck hiding her clothes.

  ‘She’s right, Mor,’ Gill said.

  Tina handed Morwenna the mirror. ‘Dear life,’ Mor murmured. ‘My face look like a tomato.’

  Tina tipped several plain silk scarves from the bag. Some were deep, vibrant colours, others pastel shades. Shaking out a pale blue one she draped it over the white sheet around Mor’s neck.

  ‘Look at that!’ Viv said.

  ‘Much better,’ Gill nodded. ‘That would look lovely with navy shoes and bag.’

  Tina replaced blue with a jade green.

  ‘No!’ Annie and Viv spoke together. ‘Green is unlucky for weddings.’

  As Tina continued draping light and dark shades of different colours either side of Mor’s neck, Jess liked pastel pink and plum, Annie preferred lilac with mauve, and Gill favoured light aqua with deep turquoise.

  ‘Any of those would suit you, Mor,’ Tina said. ‘Just remember to keep the softer shades near your face.’

  ‘And throw out all that old yellow, beige, and dark brown you been wearing,’ Viv advised.

  ‘Style advice from someone wearing orange and lime green?’ Annie said, her tone dry.

  ‘’Tisn’t me getting married.’ Viv turned to Mor. ‘Are you going long or short?’

  Mor looked panicky. ‘I dunno. I don’t want to go tripping over and I don’t want people laughing at me.’ She looked up at Tina. ‘What do you think?’

  ‘A plain round-neck dress with either a short jacket or a collarless coat would look smart and it would flatter your build, Mor.’

  Anxiety puckered Mor’s forehead. ‘I haven’t got time to go round the shops.’

  Tina took three mail-order catalogues from her holdall. ‘These might give you some ideas.’

  ‘We’ll have a look while Tina do your hair, Mor,’ Viv said, taking one of the thick catalogues.

  ‘I
f you find several that you like,’ Tina said, ‘I’ll send for them and you can can try them on at home.’

  Mor put her hands over her face and sobbed.

  Tina looked stricken. ‘I’m sorry, I never meant –’

  Mor flapped a hand, raising her tear-wet face. ‘No, I’m just – I can’t b’lieve – I never thought I’d be doing this.’

  Pulling a tissue from the box, Annie pushed it into Mor’s hand. ‘Get a grip, girl. ’Tis only a hairdo and some make-up. No need to go all drama-queen.’

  Mor sniffed then giggled, wiping her eyes.

  Tina rested her hands on Mor’s shoulders. ‘Wash your hair now shall we?’

  As Viv and Gill leafed through the catalogues, Claire caught Jess’s eye and tipped her head towards the food containers on the worktop.

  Jess picked up the kettle. ‘Who wants tea and who prefers coffee?’

  An hour later, her cut and blow-dried hair held off her face by a soft stretchy band, Mor was sitting on the sofa, her head back, eyes closed, while Tina used a variety of soft brushes to add contour and subtle colour. The others watched entranced.

  ‘Dear life!’ Viv breathed. ‘No offence, Mor, but I never knew you could look so pretty.’

  Tina stepped back and Morwenna slowly opened her eyes. ‘Head up, Mor.’ Tina gently pulled the band off and with a few tweaks of her comb created a feathery fringe, then handed her the mirror.

  A lump swelled in Jess’s throat at the awe and delight on Morwenna’s face. She glanced at the others and saw they too were fighting tears.

  ‘That’s never me,’ Mor breathed.

  ‘You were always in there, Mor,’ Annie said. ‘You just needed bringing out.’

  While they watched Tina apply a light make-up to Gill, Claire cleared her throat.

  ‘I had an idea – I wondered –’

  ‘Spit it out, girl,’ Annie said. ‘Time’s going on and I’m getting older.’

  ‘I wondered about starting a village magazine. What do you think?’

  ‘How much will it cost?’ Viv asked.

  ‘Get local businesses paying to advertise,’ Annie said, ‘you wouldn’t need to charge.’