Page 37 of A Cornish Winter's Kiss

‘No, I didn’t.’

‘Maybe you should tell me what you know before I start.’

‘I know her name, that I was born on her twentieth birthday and that she died just after my first birthday.’

‘I’m so sorry.’ Gwen’s eyes had gone glassy. ‘I didn’t know before last night that she’d died, otherwise I’d never have been so blasé about it.’

‘It’s okay, there’s just been a lot to process over the last week, but I want to know what you remember about Trisha.’

‘She was so young without any real support, except from a female cousin, about the same age as her, and their former social worker. Trisha told me that she and her cousin had both been in care, but they were sharing a flat by the time she got pregnant with you. I’d met Jill before. She was their social worker until they turned eighteen. She’d kept in touch with both girls and she was clearly fond of them. The main thing I remember from the day you were born is…’ She paused for a moment and touched Jude’s hand. ‘Are you sure you’re happy for me to keep going?’

‘Absolutely. I doubt there’s anything you could tell me that would be worse than the scenarios I’ve already imagined.’

‘Oh, there was nothing bad that day.’ Gwen shook her head. ‘Like you said, it was Trisha’s birthday the day you were born and I remember her telling Jill that there was only one gift she wanted. She asked her to promise to find you a mother who made you her number one priority, because her own mother had never done that for her.’

‘That’s exactly what I got. My mother was wonderful.’ The emotion lodged in Jude’s throat like a golf ball and caught him by surprise. After all this time, he wasn’t used to it hitting him sohard, but the last few days had shaken everything he thought he knew about himself.

‘I’m so glad.’ Gwen let go of a long breath. ‘Jill didn’t have control over who adopted you, but she promised Trisha she’d do whatever she could and I’m so happy it worked out that way.’

‘Me too, but it makes me wonder if anyone was looking out for Trisha. She was only twenty-one when she died.’ It was a strange sensation, feeling so protective of his biological mother, but it didn’t feel like he was talking about a maternal figure. It felt as if he was talking about someone younger than him, someone vulnerable, who’d been just a day out of her teens when he was born. Even though he’d never known her, he couldn’t deny he cared about this stranger who’d given birth to him. He hated the thought of what she’d been through and how the aftermath of his adoption might have affected her.

‘I remember Trisha and her cousin talking about getting jobs as holiday reps in Spain, once she was over the birth. I got the feeling it was going to be their fresh start and a chance to get away from all the issues in their family.’

‘I’m glad she was looking forward to a better future, even if it ended up getting cut horribly short.’ There was an ache in his chest for the young woman who’d never got a chance to follow her dreams, but there was a crumb of comfort in the fact she’d had some and had felt they were within her grasp.

Gwen put her hand over his. ‘I didn’t know Trisha well, we were only together on the day you were born, but I found it impossible to forget her. Like I said, she was young, but her situation was unique in many ways. Most girls of that age chose not to go ahead with their pregnancies, and those who did usually became single parents. I admire anyone who brings up children alone; it’s the hardest job in the world, and I’ve got no doubt she’d have done brilliantly, as so many women do. But Trisha was adamant she wanted more for you than she couldgive. She wanted you to have everything, and I’m sure she’d have been proud of you. If you want to know more than I can tell you, I’m still in touch with a friend who used to work with Jill, and I’m sure he’ll have her contact details. If he puts you in touch with her, she’ll probably be able to tell you a lot more. Jill might even know how to find Trisha’s cousin.’

‘Thanks, but I think all of this is enough for now.’ Jude slowly withdrew his hand. He needed to process what Gwen had told him and he didn’t want to do that in the company of someone he barely knew, as thankful as he was for the information she’d given him. ‘But I really am grateful for what you’ve told me.’

‘If you change your mind at any point, you know how to get in touch with me. I’m so glad the information has been helpful for you, but I’m still sorry I didn’t handle it better.’

‘It’s okay, Gwen, you really don’t need to keep apologising. I was never upset with you. I was just disappointed that Emily spoke to you about it after I’d told her it wasn’t what I wanted. She had no right to do that.’

‘She didn’t.’ Gwen fixed him with a level look. ‘I thought you knew that. All she did was talk to Patsy about it, to try and work out the best way of helping you so that you could find a way of finishing your novel. Patsy used to be a counsellor, and I guess Em thought she might have some insight. It was Patsy who asked me if there was a way of finding anything out, if you decided that’s what you wanted, and I think we both just got a bit carried away when I realised that I was one of the midwives who was there when you were born. None of this was down to Emily and, at the risk of overstepping the mark one more time, there’s something else I feel I need to say.’

‘Okay.’ Jude suddenly felt as if he was in the headteacher’s office, and his mind was already all over the place, trying to work out if Emily owed him an apology or if it was the other way around.

‘It’s obvious you like Emily and that she feels the same way, so just don’t blow it.’ Gwen patted his hand one more time before getting up and leaving without another word. It had been the perfect mic drop moment and she’d given Jude more to think about than he’d ever thought possible. Now he really wanted to talk to someone about it. The problem was, there was only one person he wanted to talk to. But he had a horrible feeling he’d already left it too late to follow Gwen’s advice and that his chances of not blowing it were long gone.

17

Emily had tried calling Jude to apologise for what had happened at the bookshop and, when he hadn’t answered, she’d messaged him instead. She’d felt awful about Gwen blurting out that she knew his biological mother, which had probably made him feel as if Emily had betrayed him. She hadn’t even known that her mother had mentioned it to Gwen, but she didn’t blame Jude for not answering her calls. He’d expressly told her he didn’t want to go looking for his birth mother unless he was sure she wanted to hear from him, and she’d witnessed how hard the news of Patricia’s death had hit him.

Since meeting Jude, she’d come to realise that he found it uncomfortable when anyone’s focus was on him. Every time someone at the bookshop had made a comment about how talented he was, or how well his career was going, he’d turn it into some kind of joke, or play it off as lucky. It was obvious he didn’t like talking about himself, so the idea of her parents and their friends all talking about him would have been really disconcerting. Emily still wanted the chance to explain, and to tell him that she hadn’t gone against his wishes and got Gwen involved. It had just been Patsy trying her hardest to help, andgetting it almost as wrong as her daughter. Emily had to set herself a limit though. Three messages of apology and that was it. If he didn’t reply after that, she needed to accept he didn’t want to hear from her again. She couldn’t make sense of why the idea of that bothered her as much as it did, so she didn’t even try.

The day after the bookshop event, she took herself off to the studio in Truro to do another recording, something she’d scheduled in weeks ago. She’d hoped it would be a distraction, but it wasn’t. She wasn’t sure she could even have recalled the plot of the novel she’d been narrating if someone had asked her, because her mind had been elsewhere the whole time. Emily had checked her phone as soon as she’d come out of the studio, but there’d been no response from Jude to her third and final text. When she pulled up to her parents’ house, the first thing she did was check her phone again, but there was still no response. Her fingers twitched with the desire to send another message, not just because she wanted him to reply, but because there was a sense of growing injustice rising up inside her. She hadn’t gone behind Jude’s back; he’d told her mother himself that he was adopted. The only thing she’d told Patsy that Jude hadn’t already shared with her was where he’d been born. That was hardly the crime of the century.

‘Please stop looking at me like that, you’re making me feel miserable.’ Gary Barlow fixed her with an exquisitely sad look in his eyes the moment she walked in the door. He wanted to see Rufus, she didn’t need to speak dog to work that out. But it wasn’t going to happen, and she didn’t need him making her feel guilty on top of everything else.

‘Seems like you’re already pretty miserable to me.’ Emily’s father called out to her from the lounge, and she walked through to where her parents were cuddled up on the sofa together, underneath a heated throw.

‘It’s just been a frustrating day. I kept messing up the recording, so I ended up having to pay for some extra studio time. This book is for an author I’ve never worked with before and she approached me direct, so the rate is more than I usually get. But it will end up being less than normal if I keep having to pay for extra studio time, and if I make a hash of it she won’t want to use me again.’ Emily flopped heavily into one of the armchairs opposite her parents, the twinkling lights on the Christmas tree seeming to mock her with their jollity.

‘I’m sorry you’ve had a tough day, Em, but we both know the real reason you’re out of sorts. It’s because I interfered and spoke to Gwen.’ Emily’s mother bit her lip, her eyes filling with tears. ‘I feel terrible about it and I just wish you’d give me Jude’s number so I can call him to explain. I’d walk down to Puffin’s Rest myself and knock on the door if I could. I can’t stand the thought that me being such a busybody has come between you.’

‘Oh, Mum, it hasn’t.’ Emily shook her head. She hated seeing her mum upset and she wasn’t going to let Patsy feel guilty about something that would probably have happened anyway. Jude had already gone cold on her after the kiss; what happened at the bookshop had just put the final nail in the coffin. ‘It wasn’t the best idea for Gwen to just blurt out that she knew Jude’s biological mother, but he was already shutting down on me. I don’t know, maybe he’s got what he needed for the book and he was just ready to move on. Either way, he’d already stopped wanting to meet up before last night.’

‘Then more fool him.’ Emily’s father sighed at the exact same moment her phone pinged with a text message. It was from Jude.

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