Читать книгу Classic Bestsellers from Josephine Cox: Bumper Collection - Josephine Cox - Страница 57

FOR LIZZIE, FEELING poorly as she did, the journey from Liverpool to Blackburn seemed to take a lifetime.

Twice the passenger opposite had tried to engage her in conversation. Each time she smiled and listened but didn’t feel able to do more than that. In the end he gave up and when he got off the train at the first station, she was relieved to be left on her own.

As the train drew away again, great billows of steam crept up to envelop the carriages and everyone inside. In the midst of that huge, grey cloud, it seemed to Lizzie that she was the only person left in the whole wide world. It was an eerie feeling; though the steam soon evaporated and glimpses of the outside world crept in.

A moment later she heard the muffled tap of footsteps going along the corridor. Fearing that people might come in if she smiled at them, Lizzie looked away when curious passengers peeped inside, their faces pressed to the window of her compartment. When they walked on by, she settled back in her seat and, closing her eyes, began to relax. The gentle rhythm of the train and the distant, soothing clatter of iron against iron, soon lulled her to sleep.

Many hours later, the weary soul finally arrived in Blackburn town.

The station was always busy, and this morning was no exception. With porters scurrying about, frantic people rushing in all directions, some passengers queuing for tickets and others reading papers or merely chatting to colleagues, it was all Lizzie could do to forge a way through.

‘Need any help? Want a carriage, do yer?’ The ruddy-faced little porter came tripping forward with his trolley.

Too fagged to answer him, Lizzie shook her head and moved on. She only had the one bag, and had no intention of travelling to Salmesbury in a carriage, not when there was a perfectly reliable tram service at half the price. ‘Thank you all the same.’

She had tried to press on John the money he had left with her when he had first come back from sea, bursting with health and optimism, ready to marry his Emily. John had made her bring it home again: she must save it for her old age, he said – not that she would ever be old to him. But he and Rosie, and all who saw it, admired the beautiful patchwork bedspread she had painstakingly made for them over the months leading up to their marriage. It was a wonderful gift.

The symptoms she had experienced earlier still lingered. So now, as she wended her way towards the exit, Lizzie’s footsteps got slower and slower, until she felt the need to lean against a pillar where she took long, gasping breaths.

‘Are you all right, my dear?’ A kindly old gent came up alongside. ‘Do you need help?’

Embarrassed, Lizzie shook her head. ‘No, thank you. I’m feeling better now.’ Mustering all her strength, she moved on. Behind her, the gent watched her for a moment before hurrying for his train.

Outside in the fresh air, with the keen March breeze in her face, Lizzie took a few invigorating breaths and set off in search of the tram to Salmesbury.

‘That’s right, luv. We’re about to leave for Salmesbury now. If you’re coming along, you’d best get on board.’ The conductor was a lanky sort, with a mop of wild ginger hair.

When Lizzie arrived, he had been lolling against the tram and puffing away at his pipe. Now though, he tapped out the bowl against a street-lamp. Helping Lizzie aboard he continued to chat. ‘Been on holiday, have you?’ He pointed to the big tapestry bag, which he had collected from Lizzie by way of his common duty. ‘Somewhere nice, was it?’

As Lizzie climbed the two steps, it felt like she was climbing a mountain. ‘I haven’t been on no holiday,’ she informed him. ‘I’ve been to a wedding.’

‘A wedding, eh?’ Remaining on the platform while she made her way to a seat, he called after her, ‘Now I see. It’s late nights and too much booze that’s wrong with you. A face the colour of chalk and not hardly able to put one foot afore the other – it gets me the very same way.’

Lizzie thought it best not to put him right. Instead she merely smiled at him. ‘Mind you tek care o’ my bag.’ She was beginning to wish she hadn’t let the cheeky monkey take it from her.

‘Don’t you worry about your bag, missus,’ he called back. ‘I’ll put it here, under the stairs. Don’t forget to ask for it as you get off.’ He didn’t hear Lizzie thank him, because now he had to contend with a woman and three boisterous infants, and not too far behind them came a miserable round, balding runt of a man, accompanied by his shrew-faced wife who went at him like a pecking hen. ‘I told you we should ’ave caught the earlier tram!’ she crowed. ‘Now we’ll be late and it’s all thanks to you!’

‘Yes, dear,’ he answered meekly. ‘It won’t happen again.’

‘You’re right, it won’t,’ she replied sharply. ‘Because next time, I intend going shopping on my own.’ It was just as well she didn’t see the look of pure joy on his face at such a promise.

Thankful that her queasy stomach was beginning to settle, Lizzie dropped into her seat. With home in sight, she was feeling more like her old self, well enough now to chat with the woman who was desperately trying to control her three offspring. ‘I never had children of my own,’ Lizzie confided.

‘Well, I’ve got five … these three lasses and two big lads!’ The poor woman was haggard and frantic. ‘The boys are away at board-school, thank Gawd.’ Loaded down with bags, which she had refused to leave under the stairs and, not wanting to cause a riot, the conductor had wisely allowed her to take them inside.

‘I want a toffee!’ The oldest girl looked to be about three. ‘Sally ’ad a toffee, an’ now I want one.’

Sighing from the bottom of her boots, the beleaguered woman dipped into her bag and, taking out a wrapped paper cone of sweeties, gave one to each child. ‘That’s all you’re getting for today,’ she warned.

Sitting back in their seats, the children were astonishingly quiet, until the toffees were sucked away and the arguments began. ‘If you don’t behave yerselves, I’ll tell yer dad when we get home,’ she threatened. ‘He won’t take no nonsense. He’ll tan yer arses good an’ proper!’ That did the trick. Peace was restored, at least until Lizzie reached her stop.

As she climbed off the tram, she heard them starting up again. ‘I’ll not have arguing and fighting aboard my tram!’ The conductor’s voice sailed down the street. ‘Any more hanky-panky and you’ll be thrown off, the lot of yer!’

There then came the sound of the woman’s voice, raised in anger. ‘Don’t you dare threaten to throw my kids off this tram!’ she screamed. ‘My husband’s a big man!’

At that, Lizzie went away chuckling.

Instead of walking the whole distance along the winding Potts End Lane, she decided to take the short-cut across the fields; that way her cottage was only half a mile as the crow flies.

It wasn’t the easiest of journeys, though – not with the weather suddenly turning and the drizzle beginning to trickle down the collar of her coat. Before long, the soil underfoot became boggy, and the going got harder.

When the drizzle thickened to a torrent, Lizzie found shelter under an aged oak tree, its outstretched branches protecting her from the weather like a giant umbrella.

She looked across the valley and thought how beautiful it was. The rain poured down, and right there before her eyes, the grass began to sparkle clean and bright, glinting under the darkening skies, like an endless carpet of shining emeralds.

As quickly as it had started, the rain stopped and the skies cleared. The air smelled fresh and everywhere was newly cleansed and sharper to the eye.

Lizzie continued her journey along the valley’s edge and up towards the brow of the hill. In the far distance she could see the sheep grazing, their heads bent and their bellies swollen with the weight of new life. Seemingly content with their lot, they relentlessly moved along, a white mass of munching machines.

At the top of the hill, Lizzie paused for breath; the sense of weakness was creeping back. ‘Tek your time, Lizzie!’ she chided herself. ‘You might wish you were a young lass, but you’re not. You’re a silly old fool, with no right to be tackling this long trip across the fields.’ She wished now that she had gone down the lane. At least that would have been firm underfoot, and there were no hills to climb. It was high time she learned that she couldn’t do what she used to. Like it or not, them days were long gone.

Taking a moment or two to regain her composure, she roved her quiet gaze over the landscape. She was a fortunate woman to be living amidst such beauty. There were many folk who would give a lot for just a glimpse of this little piece of God’s Heaven.

From where she stood, the view went on for miles. She could see her own little cottage tucked into the ring of trees like an egg in a bird’s nest, and beyond that she located Potts End farmhouse, with its smoking chimney and pretty orchard – and oh, look there! Surely that was Danny the milkman, striding out across the fields.

She walked on a little way and stopped again, her legs feeling like a ton weight; although she was without the patchwork counterpane, the bag was beginning to weigh heavier at every step. She wondered if she should leave it behind and fetch it later, when she felt more able. Or maybe that nice young man Danny would pick it up tomorrow, when out on his morning rounds.

Her thoughts switched to Emily. First thing tomorrow, she must go and see Aggie. There were things the other woman needed to know. With that in mind she struggled on, pausing every now and then to rest awhile.

Her cottage lay away to the right, across Aggie’s top field then over the little bridge. Thrilled at the prospect of being back in her own home, Lizzie quickened her pace.

Coming up from the farm, Danny saw her – a small figure in the distance, wending her way across the fields, and seeming to find it hard work. Concerned as to what Lizzie was doing out there in the middle of nowhere, he set off towards her.

He didn’t see Clem Jackson until he’d gone across the bottom field, but then he straightaway recognised the burly, upright figure pushing across the hills, with his fearful dog Badger walking obediently by his side. Whenever the animal began to trot off on its own, it was soon brought back under control by a whack of the thick birch-stick in its master’s iron fist.

‘Somebody should put that stick across his own damned back!’ Danny said aloud. Angered by Jackson’s cruelty, and seeing how Lizzie was not too far from crossing that madman’s path, Danny broke into a run. ‘LIZZIE!’

She didn’t hear him. Too far away and intent on her journey, Lizzie pushed on, eager to be home and in her own cosy parlour.

‘LIZZIE, WAIT ON!’ Danny’s voice was carried by the heightening breeze, but still she didn’t hear him. Nor did she see Clem Jackson coming up behind her.

Skirting the spinney, Danny was unable to see exactly what was happening, though when he emerged, he was horrified to see the dog bounding towards Lizzie. He saw how she cowered, her arms across her face, and Jackson running up, waving the stick and shouting, though Danny could not make out what was being said.

His first instinct was that Jackson had set the dog on Lizzie. ‘JACKSON, YOU BASTARD!’ This time his voice was heard, and as he came on them, Jackson was dragging his dog off Lizzie, who by now was on the ground.

Danny’s first instinct was to help Lizzie. Thrusting the other man aside, he fell to his knees, greatly relieved to see she was not badly mauled. All the same, she was frighteningly pale and shaking uncontrollably. Sliding his arms round her, he sat her up, his face turned now to the other man. Enraged, he demanded, ‘What the hell were you thinking of, you mad bugger, setting your dog on a helpless woman! What kind of monster are you?’

He would have gone for Jackson, but Lizzie put her hand across his arm. ‘No! He didn’t set the dog on me,’ she lied. ‘The dog saw me stumble and he wanted to play. I just fell over.’ She managed a smile. ‘It was nobody’s fault. Look, I’m all right. I just need to get home. Please. Get me home.’

Falling back into his arms, she closed her eyes. ‘I’m tired, that’s all … so tired.’ She had been terrified out of her wits when Jackson sent the dog after her. She heard: ‘Look ’ere, boy, we’ve a trespasser. Mekking for my field, are you, old woman? It seems to me you need teaching a lesson.’ With one, swift command he had sent the dog hurtling towards her.

In the moment she was knocked to the ground, Jackson heard Danny’s voice, and quickly called the dog to heel. ‘Keep your trap shut, you stupid old fool,’ he warned her. ‘Unless you want more trouble than you can handle.’

The last thing Lizzie wanted was trouble, either for herself, or for Aggie’s family. Besides, she was so relieved to see Danny, the attack didn’t seem important. She wasn’t hurt, and apart from a few bruises and a quickening heart, there was no harm done that she could see.

Danny wasn’t convinced by Lizzie’s explanation, but he could see she was ill. ‘I’ll get you home,’ he promised.

Collecting her bag from where it had fallen, he then gently lifted her into his arms, at the same time giving the other man a stark warning. ‘If I thought you had set the dog on her, you’d be a sorry man, Jackson!’

Jackson merely grinned in that unbearable, sly manner he had. ‘You’d best mind yer mouth, Williams,’ he said. ‘You heard what the old woman said. Nobody touched her. She fell over … the dog thought she wanted to play – didn’t yer, Badge? – and he ran across. There’s nowt more to it than that.’

He watched them leave; Danny holding Lizzie close, and Lizzie glancing warily backwards. He deliberately winked at her, laughing when she wearily turned away. ‘You’re a wise old owl,’ he muttered under his breath. ‘You’ll keep your trap shut all right.’

By the time Danny had got to the door of the cottage, Lizzie seemed to have revived a little. ‘Put me down, please, son.’

With the same tenderness with which he’d picked her up, Danny put her down, noting how unsteady she was on her feet. ‘If you tell me where the key is, I’ll unlock the door for you.’

Lizzie pointed to the bag. ‘Look in the purse at the side,’ she instructed. ‘You’ll find it in there.’

Danny found the key and, opening the door, led her inside. As they entered the parlour, the cold air struck damp. ‘I’ll have a fire going in no time,’ he said. ‘Then I’ll make you a hot drink before I fetch the doctor.’ Leading her to the armchair he sat her down.

‘I don’t want no doctor.’ Lizzie had no time for that sort of thing.

‘You’re proper poorly, my love. Even I can see that.’

Being as Lizzie had already set the fire for when she returned home, Danny soon had it lit and crackling away. ‘By!’ He rubbed his hands together and held them up against the flames. ‘That’ll soon warm your bones,’ he told her.

Next he went to the scullery and, on Lizzie’s instructions, located everything he needed to make her a brew of cocoa. There was no fresh milk, so he used boiling water and a grating of nutmeg to pep it up. He found a tiny bottle of old-looking brandy and added a teaspoon of that, too. ‘Sip it gently,’ he urged, ‘but drink it all down.’ Which she did.

‘Now then, where will I find a blanket? You need something to keep out the cold until the room warms up.’

Lizzie didn’t argue. ‘Upstairs in the chest of drawers – front bedroom, bottom drawer,’ she said, her teeth chattering.

He was up the stairs and back down in a matter of minutes. Tucking the blanket tightly about her, he asked worriedly, ‘Wouldn’t it be better if we got you up to your bed?’

‘No. I’ll be fine where I am, thank you all the same, Danny.’

He sighed through his smile. ‘Are you always this stubborn?’

‘Some might say so.’

‘Right! Well, you sit tight while I fetch the doctor.’

‘Didn’t I already tell you, I don’t want no doctor!’

‘Now look here, Lizzie.’ He tried to reason with her. ‘You’re not well. Let him look you over, that’s all I’m asking.’

‘No.’ She spelled out her words slowly and deliberately. ‘NO DOCTOR.’

‘Oh, what am I going to do with you, eh?’

‘Fetch Aggie.’

‘Is that what you really want?’

‘It’s what I said, isn’t it?’

He was relieved that at least she was admitting she needed somebody, if not the doctor. ‘And will you be all right while I’m gone?’

Reaching out, Lizzie placed her hand in his. ‘You’re a lovely man,’ she said gratefully. ‘You’ve brought me home just as you promised, and you’ve made me warm and comfortable. I thank you for that, but now, I’d be obliged if you’d please fetch Aggie.’

Lizzie was fond of Danny. In her heart she believed she had done him a terrible wrong, just as she had wronged Emily, John and Rosie, for they were all caught up in a mess of her making.

That was what she truly believed. And that was what she must confess, God help her! For some reason, it seemed vitally important that she did it this day – this minute, even.

Before he left, Danny made her promise that she would not move, or try to do anything, until Aggie got there. Once he had secured that promise, he was on his way, running across the fields as though his own life depended on it. Stubborn as a mule, she was. Didn’t want a doctor … wanted Aggie instead. He chuckled to himself. The old dear certainly knew her own mind.

When he burst in through the kitchen door, Aggie almost leaped out of her shoes; as it was she dropped the cabbage she was slicing, and the knife with it. ‘Danny! What’s wrong, lad?’

‘It’s Lizzie,’ he answered breathlessly. ‘She collapsed near the top field. I carried her home and made her comfortable.’ For the moment he said nothing about Clem Jackson and the dog. ‘She really ought to see a doctor, but she won’t. It’s you she wants. “Fetch Aggie”, that’s what she said, and if I were you I’d get up there a bit sharpish. The poor old dear doesn’t look at all well.’

Running to the door, Aggie took her coat from the hook and, throwing it on, began doing up the buttons as she went. ‘I’ll make my way up there now,’ she said. ‘You’ll find Emily in the barn sorting out the cabbages. Ask her to put the stew on, and I’ll be back soonever I can.’ She gave a swift look around, then grabbed a can of milk, a pan of stewed apples, a couple of eggs and a small loaf of freshly-baked bread. ‘Happen she’s got no food in.’ She quickly stowed them in her brown basket and set off.

Danny followed her out. ‘I’ll see Emily, then I’ll come up to Lizzie’s. You might need me.’

‘That’s a good idea,’ she said, ‘but give us a minute or two. Lizzie’s a very private person. I don’t know why she’s asked for me, unless it’s to stay with her until she feels better, but it might be best when you get back, if you don’t come into the cottage straight away.’

Danny nodded. ‘I understand. But I’ll not be far away, you can be sure of that. If you need me, just yell and I’ll be there in the wink of an eye.’

While Aggie hurried to the cottage, Danny went in search of Emily and Cathleen. He looked in the barn and they weren’t there. He peered into the other buildings and there was still no sign of them, not even when he called their names across the yard.

Growing anxious, he went in search of them further afield. And there they were, the two of them, playing in the orchard. Little Cathleen was running round the trees, screeching with delight, while her mammy came after her, making animal noises. Just then, Emily swept Cathleen into her arms, pretending to bite her. ‘No, Mammy! NO!’ Cathleen was in fits of laughter.

On seeing Danny she squirmed out of Emily’s grasp and ran to him. ‘Don’t let Mammy get me!’ She clung to his leg. ‘She wants to eat me all up!’

‘You’d best run then!’ Dropping her carefully to the ground he watched her run and hide behind a stack of straw, her little face peeking out and her eyes shining with merriment.

While she hid, Danny told Emily what had happened. ‘I’d best go up there,’ Emily said. ‘It might be that we’ll need to get the doctor after all.’

Danny persuaded her otherwise. ‘No. Your mam said to give her a few minutes then I was to go after her. I’ll go up there with Cathleen, my love. We’ll be back soon enough. Don’t worry.’

For the sake of the child, Emily agreed. ‘All right, but if you need me, come and get me.’ She felt guilty about Lizzie. It was rumoured in the village that she had not been too well of late, and yet she had still gone to visit John, though no one was sure where John was these days.

‘She’s had letters postmarked Liverpool,’ the postmaster had gossiped, but that was all anyone knew. Apart from something Lizzie had let slip to the man. ‘She said as how John had sent her the money to go and see him – some special event, from what I can make out, but she wouldn’t say no more than that. She only told me that much because she wanted me to take care of the stray cats while she was away, and she gave me a key to open the windows so the cottage wouldn’t get too damp.’

Emily had thought about John ever since. In the long, lonely years since he’d been gone, Lizzie had made her so unwelcome, that in the end she had given up trying to visit. But now the old woman was poorly, and she wanted to help if she could.

Apart from that, she needed so much to talk with Lizzie. In the morning, if all was well, she would go and see her, and maybe this time, John’s aunt would give her news of him at dear last. Emily hoped so, because for a long time now, she had been desperate to know how he was.

By the time Aggie arrived at the cottage, Lizzie was sound asleep. At first when there was no answer to her knocking, Aggie feared the worst, and when she inched open the door to find Lizzie slumped in the chair her heart sank to her boots. ‘Lizzie?’ She gently shook her. ‘It’s Aggie, come to see you.’ She shook her again. ‘Lizzie!’

Startled out of a deep sleep, Lizzie opened her eyes. ‘About time an’ all!’ To Aggie’s great relief, she sat up straight. ‘You took an age getting here, lass.’

‘I rushed over as quick as I could,’ Aggie told her. ‘But never mind that, I’m here now. So what have you been up to, eh? Travelling to God knows where and wearing yourself out. And why won’t you let the doctor come and see you?’ She was pleased to see how Lizzie had some colour in her cheeks and her eyes were bright enough, she thought. But there was something about Lizzie that worried her. ‘Where do you feel ill, love? Do you hurt?’ Waiting for an answer, she held Lizzie’s hand.

The other woman shook her head. ‘I’m just tired. Me every bone aches.’ Her old eyes twinkled. ‘And me feet are terrible sore. By! It was a long hard trek to get home.’

‘You shouldn’t have walked across the fields,’ Aggie chided. ‘Old Tom only lives a stride from the tram-stop. He’d gladly have brought you home on his cart. All you had to do was ask.’

Lizzie managed a laugh. ‘I’ve seen his old cart, and I wouldn’t fancy being jolted down the lane on that. It wouldn’t have been me feet that hurt, it would have been my poor backside. And you know how he likes to josh with the women. No, lass. I’m too old for all that.’ She pointed to her empty cup. ‘Is that milk you’ve got there, Aggie love? Ooh, I’d love a cup of tea! Get yourself one, while you’re at it.’

Aggie was puzzled. ‘Is that all you wanted me for, to sit and drink tea with you?’ she asked. ‘I ran all the way here when Danny told me you were badly. Lizzie, are you sure it’s me you need, and not a doctor?’

Lizzie nodded. ‘I told Danny I didn’t need no doctor, and I don’t. It’s you I need. Now then, do as you’re told, lass. Get the two of us a nice cuppa tea and sit yerself down. Yer’ll find biscuits in the tin wi’ the late Queen on the front, God bless her. That’s right, it’s in the pantry … Then come right back in, Aggie. There’s summat I have to tell you, and it can’t wait no longer.’

Intrigued, Aggie quickly did as she was bid.

Bringing the tea, Aggie gave Lizzie her cup and sat herself on the chair beside her. ‘No, lass. Go an’ sit on the sofa where I can see you,’ Lizzie instructed.

When Aggie moved to seat herself on the sofa opposite, Lizzie asked outright, ‘Do you think your Emily is happy, wed to Danny?’

Momentarily taken aback, Aggie thought for a minute. There had been many a time when she had asked herself that same thing. ‘She seems happy enough,’ she said guardedly.

‘Does she ever mention John?’

‘Sometimes, when the two of us are on our own. Though I’m sure he’s on her mind all the time.’

‘Do you think she and John would have been happy together?’ Lizzie needed to find out the answers to what was plaguing her.

Taking a deep breath, Aggie sighed. ‘She still loves him, I’m sure of that. But it’s no good speculating as to what might have happened, is it, Lizzie? If this … if that. What’s the use of it? John’s not here. Emily’s married to Danny, and they’re raising Cathleen as his daughter. Things would have been different, of course, if only John hadn’t done what he did. It was a great shock to Emily and I truly don’t think she’s ever got over it. But as far as I’m concerned, it’s all water under the bridge.’

Lizzie paused before embarking on the truth. ‘It could ’ave been different, lass,’ she murmured, ‘if only I hadn’t interfered.’

‘Now that’s silly talk, Lizzie. You mustn’t blame yourself.’ Aggie thought it a strange thing for the other woman to have said. ‘I don’t see how you could have changed anything,’ she said forthrightly. ‘Your John did a bad thing. He got my Emily with child, then went off and set up with some other woman. That wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have foreseen that, any more than I could.’

Lizzie thought there was only one way to say it, and she did. ‘He did come back for his Emily. He loved her, y’see … still does, I reckon.’ She paused, knowing she would shock Emily’s mam with what she was about to divulge. ‘He didn’t go away on his own accord,’ she blurted out. ‘The letter I delivered to Emily was all a lie … there was no other woman. Y’see, it were me as sent him away.’

‘What?’ Aggie was suddenly bolt upright on the sofa. ‘What are you saying? I don’t understand. Why would he write that he’d found some other woman, if he hadn’t? And why did you send him away?’

‘It wasn’t easy, but he was shocked and hurt when he saw Emily with Danny and Cathleen. I lied to him. I told him they were happily married, that Cathleen was Danny’s child. I convinced him that going away was the only thing to do. I did it, because I didn’t want him taking on the responsibility of another man’s child.’ There! It was said and there was no going back.

Aggie almost leaped out of her chair. ‘That’s nonsense and well you know it!’ Bearing in mind that the old woman was poorly, Aggie tried to keep calm. ‘Everybody knows the child was John’s.’

Lizzie shook her head. ‘Gossip,’ she said. ‘Vicious gossip.’

‘Did John tell you that?’ Aggie asked angrily. ‘Did he claim he wasn’t the father?’

‘He thought the child was Danny’s.’

Aggie was trying hard to keep control. ‘But why in God’s name would he think that?’

‘Because I told him so.’

It was all too much for Aggie. Dropping back on the sofa, she said in a quiet voice, ‘Lizzie, tell me something, will you?’

‘That’s what I’m trying to do, lass.’

‘You’re saying that Cathleen is not John’s child, and that John believed Danny was the father. Have I got that right?’

Lizzie nodded.

‘So John denied being the father, did he?’

‘He didn’t need to. I already knew he wasn’t.’

‘How could you possibly know that?’

‘Because Emily …’ Remembering her promise to the girl, she hesitated. Then: ‘Because your lass told me so herself. She made me promise I would never tell, but I reckon it’s time you knew the truth.’

For a long, shocked moment, Aggie fell silent. Then she asked: ‘Is that the God’s honest truth? Emily told you herself that John was not the father?’

‘As God is my judge.’

There was another long silence. Aggie simply could not understand why Emily should confess that to Lizzie, while all the time letting her own mother and family believe that John was Cathleen’s father. It was too upsetting. Moreover, it posed yet another question, which she had to ask. ‘So who is Cathleen’s father? Did she tell you that?’

Lizzie shook her head. ‘No, lass. I did ask, but she wouldn’t tell me.’ Lizzie remembered the very day when Emily had cleared John of having got her with child. ‘All I know is, she stood in this very room and told me that John was not to blame. When I asked her who was the father, she sort of panicked.’ Lizzie recalled how Emily had rushed off, unwilling to stay and talk. ‘She seemed frightened – refused to be drawn on the matter, other than to clear John’s name.’

Aggie leaped at the chance. ‘She could have been lying to protect him!’

‘No, lass. She was telling the truth. Besides, you know as well as I do that Emily is not given to lying.’

Aggie was mortified. ‘You’re right. I’ve never known her to lie – about anything.’ She had another, more burning question. ‘You said she seemed frightened to talk. Are you sure about that?’

‘As sure as I can be, yes.’

Now Aggie was out of her chair and pacing the room. Something had come into her mind and it was a terrifying thing. ‘God Almighty!’ She put her hand to her throat. ‘Oh, dear God Almighty!’

Lizzie looked up to see an expression of sheer horror on Aggie’s face. ‘What’s wrong?’ she asked.

Though her heart was beating too fast for her to breathe easily, Aggie tried to conceal her fear. ‘It’s nothing, Lizzie.’ She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes; instead it froze on her face like a mask. ‘It’s just that this whole thing has got me worried. Why didn’t Emily tell me? Why would she come to you instead of me? What reason would she have, and why did John desert her the way he did?’ The frantic questions tumbled out.

‘I already told you … it were me as persuaded him to go.’

Aggie resumed her seat. ‘Look, Lizzie, I think you’d best tell me what happened, right from the minute she came through the door. I need you to tell me everything!’ she instructed. ‘Don’t leave out a single thing.’

So Lizzie told her. She explained how John had saved almost every penny he’d earned while he was at sea. She revealed how he had come home that particular day. ‘Full of joy at being back and wanting to ask Emily if she would be his wife. Y’see, he had every intention of buying the debt from Clem Jackson and giving you back your farm.’

‘So why didn’t he stay?’

Lizzie went on, more slowly now. Tears of remorse were gathering in her eyes. ‘As I recall, it was the child’s birthday. John was making his way across to your farm to see Emily, when he saw her … with Cathleen and Danny. They were laughing together, seemingly very happy in each other’s company. From the way the child ran to Emily, John could tell straight off that she was Emily’s. He didn’t know what to think, so he came to me, and I told him that Emily had cheated on him, and that Cathleen was the result.’

She held nothing back, even though her voice shook with the shame of her confession. ‘I made him believe that Danny was the father, and that he was now wed to Emily, and they were very happy together.’

‘Oh no, Lizzie,’ Aggie breathed. She was heartbroken for her poor daughter. ‘You should never have done that. You should have let them talk.’

‘I know that now.’ As she spoke, the tears poured down Lizzie’s face. ‘I didn’t want him saddled with another man’s bairn. I was trying to protect him, you see? I was so angry with Emily. I thought she’d waited till his back was turned and let another man bed her. I thought she was little more than a trollop. Oh Aggie! What an old fool I am! It’s too late now. All too late.’

Seeing her distressed like that, was deeply upsetting to Aggie.

‘No, Lizzie.’ She went and put her arms round the other woman’s shoulders. ‘You did right under the circumstances. Any other mother would have done the same. All you knew was what you could see with your own eyes, and John the same. Emily had a child and it was not John’s responsibility. What else could you think of her, but that she had cheated on him?’

She could see now, how Lizzie might have sent John away with a lie. ‘Yes, you did right to send him away. I would have done the very same.’

Lizzie brightened at Aggie’s brave words. ‘Would you, lass? Would you honestly?’

‘Yes. If it had been the other way round, I wouldn’t have thought twice.’ She gave Lizzie a hug. ‘Now then, stop your worriting. Let’s go through it all again, and we’ll see what we can come up with, eh?’

At the back of her mind was the other thing.

After what Lizzie had just told her, it tormented her now, like never before.

Thankful for Aggie’s comforting words, Lizzie asked her to make another brew. ‘The tea’s gone cold, lass.’

Later, they went through the story again, comparing notes.

And the more she learned about Emily’s predicament, the stronger grew Aggie’s terrible suspicions.