‘I haven’t been able to mention it to Jason. I just think he’d … not take it very well.’
‘Ooh,’ she said again, more interested this time. ‘Tell me more.’
Jenna waited until Linda had put the tea mugs down in front of them. One of them said ‘World’s Best Mum’ and Jenna wondered for a moment if Linda had bought it for herself. The idea of Jason giving it to her was so poignant she almost felt tears well up. But perhaps that was just the stress.
‘Well, you know how he’s just dismissed the stuff about being Lawrence Harville’s half-brother out of hand,’ began Jenna.
‘Yeah, but I’ve told him, it’s the truth. Swear down.’
‘I believe you, Linda, really. And, deep down, I think he does too. But he just doesn’t want to.’
‘No,’ sighed Linda. ‘He doesn’t.’
‘Anyway, I found something else out the other day, when I was at the county archive, and I wanted to ask you a few questions.’
Linda looked surprised at this new tack, raising her eyebrows at her tea.
‘Fire away,’ she said.
‘Watson is your birth name, isn’t it? You didn’t change it by deed poll or have a previous marriage before Jason that I don’t know about?’
‘No, I were born Linda Watson and I daresay that’s how I’ll die as well.’
‘And are either of your parents still alive?’
‘Eh? Oh no. Both long gone. Dad had that lung thing miners get. Mum didn’t last a lot longer once he went.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that. How old were you?’
‘Me? I were about twenty-four, twenty-five. Jason were a nipper. Doubt he’d remember much about them. Why?’
‘Sorry, but do you have any brothers or sisters?’
‘No, only child, me. It’s been me and Jase for as long as I can remember. Nobody else to depend on. Mum was good, though, when he were a baby. Used to help out a bit where she could.’
Jenna nodded and supped at the tea, although the sweetness of it made her teeth protest.
‘So your dad was a Watson, and your mum …?’
‘A Craven. Rita Craven. Look, what’s all this about? Are you making an episode of that Who Do You Think You Are? thing about our Jase? ’Cos it’d make a pretty boring one. Nobody’d watch it.’
‘Not as boring as you think,’ said Jenna, leaning forward, her eyes alight with what she knew. ‘Rita’s mother’s surname was …’
‘Ooh, now you’re asking.’ Linda’s forehead crumpled with the effort of memory. ‘Her family were Nottingham people. Began with an M …’
‘Manning!’ said Jenna triumphantly.
‘Ah, that’s it,’ said Linda, regarding Jenna with some suspicion. ‘How do you know that then?’
‘It’s the same name as the woman in the diary,’ said Jenna. ‘The one who married Harville, then accidentally killed the maid and disappeared.’
‘What, you think we’re …?’
‘Related? Yes. Yes, I do.’
Linda stared. ‘Go on, then. Why?’
‘When I went to the archive,’ said Jenna, all her anxieties forgotten in the pleasure of revelation, ‘I wanted to see if I could trace Frances. Find out what happened to her and her baby. The first thing I found was her death certificate – she died just a couple of years after the whole affair. The cause of death was given as diphtheria.’