Читать книгу Classic Bestsellers from Josephine Cox: Bumper Collection - Josephine Cox - Страница 78

‘WELL DONE, JACK. You’ve done a good job.’

Trusting his own judgement, Luke Hammond had given Jack more responsibility than usual, and as always, the lad had not let him down. ‘I wanted the buyers to get a good impression when they came to look round. They went away more than satisfied, and now I’m hopeful we’ll get that big contract.’

Jack appreciated the praise. ‘If there’s any chance of them using us to store and deliver their merchandise, we can’t let them slip through our fingers.’

That was Luke’s thinking also. ‘You never cease to amaze me, Jack,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘You’re a born businessman, if ever I saw one. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if one of these fine days, you’ll be up and away to start your own company. Am I right?’

‘I won’t deny it, Mr Hammond,’ Jack answered cautiously. ‘It’s allus been my ambition to have my own factory. But I reckon it’s a long time away yet.’

‘I wouldn’t be too sure of that if I were you. You’re not a man to sit on his backside while the competition takes over,’ he told Jack. ‘You’ll want to be up there with the best of them. I’ve no doubt about that.’

Suspicious that Luke Hammond was preparing to be rid of him, Jack assured him, ‘It all teks money, as you well know, so I dare say you’ll not see the back of me for some time yet.’

Luke nodded. ‘You’re right about the money. You’ll get nowhere without it, that’s for certain, but it isn’t everything. If a man’s got drive and commitment enough, he’ll always find a way. That’s why I know you’ll do it, and when that day comes, it’ll be a bad one for me, I’m aware of that.’ He smiled warmly. ‘Happen the customers will move over to you. Then again, happen they’ll stay loyal to me. We’ll have to see who’s the better man, won’t we, eh?’

Made nervous by Luke’s last remark, Jack asked pointedly, ‘Now that you know I mean to have my own business one day, I expect you’ll be wanting me out now.’

Luke looked him in the eye. ‘The fact that you have a mind to be your own boss has only strengthened my faith in you. If I were to get rid of a man like you, I’d be the biggest fool this side of London town.’

Jack was astonished. ‘How’s that, Mr Hammond?’

Luke took a moment to observe the younger man: that tall, confident stance and the aura of conviction. ‘You remind me of myself when I was that bit younger.’ He laid a hand on Jack’s shoulder. ‘You know what you want and you’ll not rest until you get it. You work hard and plan hard, and head towards your dream until it becomes hard reality.’ His face crinkled into a deep smile. ‘I admire that in a man.’

‘You’ve got me bang to rights,’ Jack admitted. ‘I’ve allus known what I want. And even if you were to send me on my way now, I’ll never lose sight of my ambition, nor will I ever give up!’

‘Do you think I don’t know that?’ Luke went on to explain his thinking. ‘I’ve no intentions of sending you on your way. I want you here with me, where I can keep an eye on you.’ He took a deep breath. ‘Think about it, Jack. I’d be sending you straight to the competition, and that would be the act of a very naïve and stupid man … which I hope I’m not.’

Jack nodded. ‘I see what you’re getting at.’

‘Good man! But that’s not the only reason I want you here.’ He paused to formulate his words. ‘I’m sure you’ve already realised how fast we’re expanding. Work is taking off at such a rate; the orders are pouring in and it seems before too long, I’ll have need of another warehouse and a couple more wagons. That means I’ll have more management work than a man can handle on his own, and that’s where you come in.’

Jack was intrigued. ‘In what way?’

‘I have plans for you, Jack,’ Luke replied. ‘Plans that will give you a free hand, and put you in good stead for the day you captain your own company.’

Jack was secretly delighted. ‘You seem to have a lot of faith in me, if you don’t mind me saying.’

‘I have,’ Luke confirmed, ‘but only because you’ve earned it.’

With that he moved away. ‘Best start closing up.’ Glancing up at the clock he saw it was already ten minutes to six. ‘It’s been a long day. Happen tomorrow will be a bit easier.’

‘Good night, Mr Hammond.’

‘Good night, Jack.’

Having secured his own office, Luke made his way out to the car, leaving Jack to close up the factory.

‘I hope she’s in a better mood than when I left her this morning,’ Luke said aloud, speeding his way home.

Lately he’d got into the habit of talking to himself, which wasn’t surprising when he had no one else to confide in. Even Edna could never understand what was in his heart … all those futile hopes and dreams and broken ambitions, of raising a family and growing old with the woman he had loved and married.

Now they were all gone. And there were times when he felt like the loneliest man in the world. Having drawn up to the house, for a minute he was tempted to turn the car round, drive away and never come back. For too long now, his life had been a roller-coaster ride. There were times when he could hardly bear to leave Sylvia behind in the mornings. Other times he wished himself a million miles away. Or at least in the cabin in the woods – starting a new life, more peaceful and possibly less lonely …

Knowing he had no alternative but to face the certain chaos Sylvia’s mood this morning foretold, he nosed the car into the driveway and drew it to a halt. For a long, aching moment he folded his arms across the steering wheel and, resting his head on them, briefly closed his eyes. He was tired, drained, devoid of energy.

He consoled himself with the knowledge that tomorrow was Tuesday. Out there in the wilderness he could breathe, and smile, and feel the weight of his burden slip away.

He locked the car and went inside the house, his feet like lead, and his heart too.

He braced himself for what was coming. He had never shirked his responsibility, and he would not shirk it now.

‘I’m glad you’re home, sir.’ On her knees, beginning to clear away the crumbs of an apple pie, Edna looked frazzled. ‘She’s been unsettled all day.’

He glanced around the kitchen. There was no sign of Sylvia, but the oven door was wide open and there were pieces of broken earthenware scattered from one end of the room to the other. He was very familiar with the results of Sylvia’s rages.

‘What happened, Edna?’

‘It’s all right,’ she answered, ‘I’ve managed to persuade her upstairs. She took her medication and I watched her until it was all gone. She’s getting sly about it again – says it makes her too tired, and I suspect she’s been pouring it away although she swears not. I’ve tucked her in. I expect she’ll be sleeping like a babe when you go up.’

With an inward sigh of relief, he thanked her. ‘You look all in, Edna. Go home and put your feet up. I’ll take over now.’

Edna did not argue. It had been one of those days when she would be glad to get home.

‘Thank you, sir,’ she said. ‘If you need me, you know where I am.’ Sylvia was like a child to her and, weary or not, she would remain on call, any time, day or night. Then she was quickly gone, though not to ‘put her feet up’, as Luke had suggested. Instead she would cook the dinner and clear up behind her, before starting that enormous pile of ironing. By then her joints would be aching and her feet swollen like new-made bread.

Sylvia slept quietly throughout the night.

Occasionally checking that she was all right, Luke alternately paced the floor and slept fitfully.

On Tuesday morning, he couldn’t wait to get out of the house. No factory, no noise or people, no fretting over Sylvia, just peace and quiet in the heart of God’s creation, where he could think straight and not be disturbed.

That humble cabin in the heart of the woods was his only sanctuary. If he didn’t have that, he believed he might go out of his mind.

At seven thirty, washed, shaved and looking every bit the businessman, he went down the landing to check on Sylvia; she was still fast asleep, hair across the pillow and arms akimbo – like a child, he thought.

Half an hour later, just as he was clearing away his breakfast things, Georgina arrived, looking stunning in a dark green, tight-fitting two-piece and her hair superbly groomed and shining.

‘You should have waited,’ she chided. ‘I would have cooked your breakfast, you know that.’

‘I know.’ He poured her a cup of tea and placed it on the table. ‘I’ve been up and checked Sylvia and she’s still sleeping. Leave her be for now,’ he suggested. ‘She was unsettled yesterday and needs her rest.’

‘And what about you?’ Georgina had already observed the hollow eyes and listless mannerisms as he wiped the flat of his palms across his face. ‘You look shattered. Can’t your Tuesday meetings wait till tomorrow?’ She was angling for information again.

‘No.’ One word, but it was a firm, decisive word, and for a moment she was silenced.

The moment passed. ‘But you look exhausted.’ Coming closer, she gazed up into his dark eyes. ‘Kept you awake, did she?’

Reaching for his jacket from the back of the chair, he gave a wry little smile. ‘You could say that.’ He recounted the previous evening’s fiasco. ‘It seems Edna made her an apple pie, which, as you know, was always Sylvia’s favourite. Sylvia asked her to bake it for her, then insisted on helping and, of course, Edna agreed. But when it came to taking the pie out of the oven, she could see how worked up Sylvia had got so she refused to let her do it in case she burned herself.’

He put on his jacket and began to move away. ‘You can guess the rest,’ he remarked cynically. ‘Sylvia threw one of her best tantrums. When I got home the pie was all over the floor. Edna had managed to get her upstairs and give her the medication.’

He then confided how concerned he was about Sylvia, and Edna’s worries about her not taking her medicine. ‘She’s due to see the consultant in a fortnight,’ he reminded Georgina. ‘I’ve been wondering if I should bring the appointment forward.’

‘Why?’ Georgina was suddenly alert. ‘You’re not thinking of having her put away, are you?’

‘Good God no!’ Anger flooded Luke’s face. ‘What kind of man do you think I am?’

‘A tired man,’ she replied. ‘A man who could be at the end of his tether. A man whose wife has some kind of brain damage, and now she’s a burden to you … dangerous to herself and others.’ She cunningly tested him. ‘If you wanted her locked away, no one would blame you.’

Unable to suppress his anger, he took her by the shoulders. ‘I don’t want to hear you talking like that again.’ The hardness of his fingers pressed into her flesh. ‘Sylvia is my wife. I made my vows before God: “in sickness and in health”. So you see, it’s my duty to take care for her, and I will. As long as she needs me, I’ll be here.’

‘I believe you.’ Feeling his hands on her body, however innocent, was a wonderful thing.

But she had to know what was on his mind. ‘There must be times when you feel lonely.’ Reaching up, she laid her hands over his. ‘A man has a need,’ she whispered huskily. ‘I can fill that need … if only you’ll let me?’

He gazed down into those deep, inviting eyes set in that porcelain-smooth face. Her scent was heady and very feminine, like lilies, and for a moment his resolve began to slip. She was right. He was more lonely than anyone could ever imagine. It wouldn’t be so bad, would it, if he took her in his arms and satisfied that deep-down need that never seemed to go away?

He thought of Sylvia and of how it used to be: her soft nakedness merging with his flesh, the warmth of mingling bodies and that great exhausting passion that swept them along and took all their energy.

Sylvia was no longer part of him in that way. But here was Georgina, offering herself, so why shouldn’t he take her? After all, he was only a man, with all a man’s strengths and weaknesses.

Almost without him being conscious of it, he drew her to him, gently, tantalisingly, his mouth half open to hers, so close he could taste her sweet, warm breath, mingling with his.

Then suddenly he thrust her away. ‘I’ll check on Sylvia, then I’d best make tracks,’ he said abruptly.

As though nothing out of the ordinary had happened, he pointed to the telephone table. ‘You know where Edna’s number is, though I don’t think you’ll need it. You know how Sylvia is: she has a bad time, then it goes away and leaves her drained for a while. I’ll see you later.’

Georgina acknowledged with a nod. She knew he had cut that moment between them out of his mind, and it told her that he was either very cunning to have rejected her and was playing a long game, or he was genuinely still in love with his errant wife.

‘Don’t worry, Luke, I’ll see to it,’ she assured him. ‘Mind how you go.’ In a way she was glad things had not gone too far. There would be time when Sylvia was off the scene. In the meantime, Don Carson was satisfying her appetite with great energy, though she’d have no compunction in dropping him when she became bored with him.

A moment later, she could hear Luke running up the stairs and then the faint sound of a door squeaking open. Then he was running back down. The front door opened and closed, and he was gone.

She ran to the window where, engrossed in watching his car as it drove away, she almost leaped out of her skin when a voice whispered close to her ear, ‘He’s gone to see his sweetheart.’

Swinging round, she saw Sylvia. Still dressed in her flimsy nightgown, and with her hair wild about her shoulders, she looked like a mad woman.

‘For God’s sake, Sylvia … you’ll catch pneumonia, running about like that.’

Wrapping her arms round her sister’s shoulders, Georgina led her gently back upstairs. ‘First we’ll get you dressed, then I’ll make you a hot breakfast … egg and bacon with tomatoes and toast,’ she suggested tenderly. ‘Would you like that?’

Sylvia nodded. ‘Then what?’

‘Well, if you feel like it, we’ll think about going out. We could buy you a new fur hat if you want, or a pair of boots to keep you warm.’

‘Oh, yes, I’d like that.’

Perfectly lucid now, Sylvia chatted eagerly. ‘Remember the last time we went shopping?’ she asked with a grin. ‘I saw this beautiful blue scarf in Hatton’s window. I might go back and buy it.’

They talked about the scarf and other items of clothing that Sylvia might fancy, and as they walked into the bedroom, the two of them were laughing and joking, just as they had done when they were young and fancy-free, on the days when Georgina suppressed her jealousy and insecurity and sisterly love was allowed to flourish.

‘I need to visit the bathroom.’ Sylvia turned back towards the door. As she went she called out, ‘Why don’t we have breakfast in town? There’s that lovely restaurant down from the church.’

‘Whatever you want,’ Georgina replied. ‘As long as we leave enough time for shopping afterwards.’

Relieved that all was normal again, and hopeful that it would turn out to be a good day for them both, Georgina softly sang as she busied herself, tidying the room.

‘Honestly, Sylvia,’ she called out, ‘you really are a sloppy devil! You’ve always been the same. I remember when Mother used to blame me for the mess, and it was you all along, but you never did own up –’

She might have finished the sentence if at that moment some sound behind her hadn’t made her whip round. Sylvia was standing in the doorway and the look on her face was of pure hatred.

‘It was you who used to make a mess, you who spilled things and broke things on purpose to try to get me into trouble.’

‘Come on now, Sylvia, you know that wouldn’t have worked. You were always our mother’s favourite,’ said Georgina, trying to jolly her along.

‘You lied,’ insisted Sylvia, working herself into a frenzy. ‘You lied and you cheated. You stole my clothes and my pearl necklace. You even tried to steal my boyfriends, but they wouldn’t have you. You’re no better now than you were then. You told tales, and they weren’t true – horrible lies you told to Mother. You even lied about me to her when she was dying.’ Sylvia launched herself at her sister like a wild animal.

‘YOU BASTARD!’ Lashing out with her fists, she caught Georgina a hard blow on the side of her face. ‘You always told tales on me, even when I asked you not to. Tell-tale tit, that’s what you are!’

Screaming like a banshee she let up with the blows, only long enough to grab the curtain cord. Yanking it down, she threw it round Georgina’s neck. She began to pull tighter and tighter, all the while laughing like a crazy woman. ‘I said I’d pay you back,’ she hissed softly, ‘and now it’s time.’

Terrified for her life, Georgina fought hard. The cord was rough and scorching her neck, and Sylvia was strong in her wild rage. After a desperate struggle Georgina managed to loosen her sister’s hold on her. She threw aside the cord at the same time as twisting Sylvia’s arm nearly out of its socket. Sylvia screamed and leaped back, the spitting Fury transformed to an injured animal in a moment.

‘I’m sorry … I’m sorry!’ Sobbing uncontrollably, Sylvia cowered away. ‘I didn’t mean to hurt you … please, Georgina, don’t tell on me, will you? Please don’t tell Mother.’

Georgina couldn’t speak; her throat felt as though it were on fire. Backing away from her sister, she ran to the bathroom where she locked the door and for a moment stood with her back to it, terrified in case Sylvia followed her.

‘She’s mad!’ The words issued in a harsh, broken whisper. ‘Stark, staring mad!’

Emblazoned on her mind was the unbelievable. Her own sister had tried to kill her!

In the mirror she saw her neck was marked by the cord. Still trembling, she splashed cool water over her face and neck; she scooped it into her hands and drank it, every gulp feeling red-hot in her throat.

‘Georgina!’ Sylvia’s quiet, pleading voice sounded close to the keyhole. ‘Please come out. I won’t hurt you any more. I never meant to do it. Please, Georgina … I’m so sorry.’

Georgina ran the tap faster and faster so it might drown out her sister’s voice. Time and again she scooped up the water and drank it down, groaning with each mouthful yet determined to ease the fire inside.

‘Please, come out, Georgina. I’m really frightened …’

Georgina turned the tap full on. She sat on the floor with her back to the door and listened to her sister pleading. Shocked rigid by the incident, she made no attempt to open the door, or to reply. Instead she kept very quiet, hardly daring to breathe.

Presently the pleading stopped and there was no sound from the other side of the door.

Now the tables had turned again. ‘Sylvia?’ Georgina’s voice issued in a harsh, rasping sound. ‘Are you there, Sylvia?’

No answer.

‘Sylvia?’

Still no answer.

Clambering up, Georgina turned off the tap and put her ear to the door.

The silence was eerie.

Softly now, she inched open the door and looked up and down the corridor. Sylvia was nowhere to be seen.

Quickly and soft-padded as a cat, she made her way downstairs to the sitting room.

‘Sylvia?’ The soft sound of crying sent her towards the sofa. ‘Where are you, Sylvia?’

It took but a moment to find her. Crouched down behind the sofa, Sylvia was crying like a bairn, arms folded across her face, and her hands tugging so viciously at her hair, it was likely to come out by the roots.

On seeing Georgina she looked up, her eyes red and swollen, and her mouth quivering. ‘I’m insane, aren’t I?’ she asked. ‘They’ll lock me away now, won’t they?’

Going gently forward, Georgina slid to the floor beside her. All her fear had evaporated when she found the pathetic weaping wreck of her sister. ‘No one’s going to lock you away,’ she whispered, her heart softened – at least for now. ‘I won’t let them!’

‘When you tell Mother what I did,’ wide, confused eyes stared up, ‘she’ll make them lock me away.’

‘I won’t tell,’ Georgina promised. ‘I can’t.’

‘Why can’t you?’

‘You know why.’

Reality was never far away, and somewhere in the darkest corner of her mind, Sylvia remembered. ‘Mother isn’t here any more, is she?’

Georgina shook her head. ‘No …’

‘She’s with Daddy, isn’t she?’

‘Yes.’

Sylvia was quiet for a time, before declaring sadly, ‘They can’t come back, can they? They’re never coming back?’ The sadness flickered and was quickly replaced with a half-smile. ‘So, you can’t tell on me, can you?’

Georgina slid her arm round those trembling shoulders. ‘Are you all right, Sylvia?’ she asked. ‘Has the anger left you now?’

Sylvia nodded. ‘I know what I did, but I couldn’t stop. I’m sorry. Really sorry.’

‘It’s all right now, Sylvia. It’s over.’ She feigned a bright smile. ‘Maybe a little sleep would do you good?’

Sylvia returned her smile. ‘Yes … I’m tired.’

Georgina nodded. ‘Come on then. I’ll help you upstairs.’

As they climbed the stairs, Sylvia began to speak at length about Luke. ‘One minute I’m convinced he’s got another woman, and the next I’m ashamed even to think it. He does love me, I know that.’ Her voice trembled. ‘I wish I didn’t make life so difficult for him.’

‘You can’t help the things you do,’ Georgina assured her. ‘You’ve been very ill.’ Leading her into the bedroom, she settled her on the bed, and sat beside her.

‘I know that,’ Sylvia admitted, ‘but it’s my own fault. I cheated on Luke and now I’m being punished.’

Leaning sideways, she laid her head on Georgina’s shoulder. ‘I thought Arnie was exciting, but he was just violent.’ Hatred marbled her voice. ‘I’m glad he’s in gaol. He should rot there!’

The look on her face bespoke the loathing she had for Arnold Stratton. ‘I’ll never forgive him for what he did to me!’

‘Hatred is a bad thing.’ Holding her tight, Georgina could feel the rage in her sister. ‘You need to rest now.’ Gently laying her back against the pillow, she told her, ‘I’ll come up later and see how you are. Sleep now.’

‘I will.’ Letting herself be covered over with the eiderdown, Sylvia slid deep into the bed until she was comfortable. ‘Just for a minute or two,’ she said. ‘Then I’ll be ready to go shopping.’ She smiled dreamily. ‘I do love him so. I hope they haven’t sold that scarf. I so much want Luke to see me in it.’

Georgina waited and watched, until Sylvia had drifted into a deep, restful sleep. She saw how Sylvia had drawn her arm out from under the clothes and gently covered her over again. ‘You’re my only sister,’ she murmured. ‘We’ve had our differences over the years, but it hurts me to see you like this. What use is Luke to you now – or you to him? He wants you to be better, but that’s not going to happen. And he doesn’t want me at all …’

Strolling round the market square, Luke did not feel the biting wind as it tugged at his face and blew open his jacket. After spending most of his time in the factory or at home, it was always a pleasure when Tuesday came and he could be outdoors, in the fresh air.

Dressed in his forest clothes of brown cord trousers, thick dark jumper and heavy boots with his cap pulled well down over his ears, he was unrecognisable as the suave young owner of Hammonds, and that was the way he wanted it to be.

After leaving Sylvia with Georgina, he had gone straight to the cabin, and only realised he was out of paraffin when he’d wanted to light the stove. That meant he could not cook, so somewhat reluctantly he had left the cabin in the late morning to come to Blackburn market to pick up a drum of paraffin. After that he would make his way to Tooley’s Café for an early lunch, and, hopefully, a glimpse of Amy and the boy.

On the other side of the market, Amy had pulled Johnny into a nearby doorway. ‘The wind’s getting up strong,’ she said, fastening the top button on his coat. ‘We don’t want you catching a chill, do we, eh?’

The boy stood patiently while she tightened his belt and drew his cap down low over his forehead. ‘Are we going to see Daisy?’

‘Later,’ she answered. ‘First I need to get a few things from the market. We won’t stay out long, though. It’s much too cold for a bairn like you.’

Glancing up at the dark clouds, she tutted. ‘If I’d known it was going to be as bad as this, I’d never have brought you out.’

‘I like coming out.’ Johnny slid his hand into hers. ‘I don’t like it when you leave me behind.’

‘Well, that’s all very flattering, lad!’ Stepping out on the cobbles again, Amy tickled him under the chin. ‘I thought you liked staying in the shop.’

‘I do,’ he said, ‘but only when you’re there.’

She laughed. She really enjoyed Johnny’s company, and whenever she could, she would take him with her, if only to give Maureen time to visit her husband in prison – a secret between them – or to hunt for some suitable job to which she could take Johnny, and which continued to be difficult to find.

‘Come on now, Johnny.’ Grabbing him by the hand Amy tugged him out of the doorway. ‘Let’s get the shopping done, then we can go and see Daisy.’

They hadn’t gone far when they came face to face with Luke. He had purchased his paraffin and was also on his way to Tooley’s Café.

‘Hello, young man.’ He addressed himself to Johnny, but it was Amy he really wanted to speak to.

Johnny was thrilled to see him again. ‘Oh, Amy, look!’ He began jumping up and down on the spot. ‘It’s the man.’ He stopped jumping to ask Luke wondrously, ‘Have you got your friend with you?’ He stared about. ‘Can I see?’

Luke shook his head. ‘I’m sorry, son,’ he smiled. ‘She won’t come out of the forest. She doesn’t like people very much.’

‘She might like me?’ Johnny’s face had fallen with disappointment. ‘I won’t frighten her.’

‘I know that,’ Luke acknowledged. ‘As a matter of fact, if she was ever going to make a new friend, I’m sure it would be you,’ he humoured the little fella. ‘Only she won’t come out of the forest, you see, not for anybody.’

Johnny’s disappointment melted into a bright, eager smile. ‘We can go to her.’ He looked up at Amy with pleading eyes. ‘We can, can’t we, Amy? We can go to her, and she’ll make friends with you as well?’

Amused, and pleasantly comfortable in Luke’s company, Amy refused. ‘I’m sorry, Johnny. We can’t go to the forest,’ she told him gently.

‘Why not?’

‘Well, for a start, we haven’t been invited, and it’s rude to invite yourself.’

‘Consider yourself invited,’ Luke interrupted; though why he had said that, he didn’t know, because he had never yet invited anyone to the cabin, and had no intention of doing so. And yet here he was, inviting Amy without a moment’s hesitation. Suddenly, and quite unforeseen, he realised that, if he could manage to persuade her to visit, in a strange kind of way he would be living his dream – or at least beginning to. From an inauspicious start suddenly this Tuesday would indeed be special.

‘See, Amy!’ The boy was delighted.

Amy was flustered. ‘It’s very kind of you,’ she told Luke, before addressing Johnny. ‘Sorry, sweetheart, but we can’t go. I haven’t done my shopping yet. And, anyway, your mammy will be expecting you back soon.’

‘Mammy won’t mind,’ his face dimpled into a mischievous little grin, ‘so long as you don’t run away with me.’

Amy laughed. ‘No, I won’t do that,’ she promised. ‘But I do need to go and see Daisy … I told her I’d be there, and you know how she watches for us.’

Having pleaded with Amy and got nowhere, Johnny turned to Luke. ‘Please, Mr … tell her, will you?’ he urged. ‘It’ll be all right … tell Amy it’ll be all right.’

Luke put out his arms in a gesture of hopelessness. ‘It looks like your Amy doesn’t want to come to my log cabin.’ He turned to her. ‘We’re not ganging up against you. Only, like Johnny here, I really would like you to come back with me, if only so you could meet my special friend.’ Gesturing to the paraffin, he added hopefully, ‘I’ve got my paraffin, so I can promise you the best cup of tea you’re ever likely to get.’

Dangerously tempted, Amy looked from one to the other. ‘I don’t know … I did promise Daisy …’ The Tuesday man had such a gentle but sad face, and he was so good with Johnny that Amy instinctively felt safe with him. Besides, hadn’t he already saved the little boy from serious harm?

‘Please Amy! Please!’ The boy’s voice cut through her thoughts. ‘Daisy won’t mind, I know she won’t.’

Sshing him, she asked Luke, ‘If we were to come with you – and I’m not saying we will – we’d need to be back here within a couple of hours.’ I must be crazy, she thought. What am I thinking of? Yet she really did want to go.

Excited by the possibility of having her near for even a short time, Luke answered assuredly, ‘Fifteen miles either way, and twenty minutes at the cabin. There’s time enough.’

‘Oh, please, Amy!’ Sensing that she might be weakening, the boy couldn’t keep still.

‘I don’t even know your name,’ Amy told Luke. ‘We’ve hardly met.’

‘You can call me Ben.’ Though he had impulsively invited Amy and the boy to his sanctuary, he wasn’t yet ready to let his name be known. ‘I’m quite amiable, and I really do make the best cup of tea in Lancashire. Moreover, I’ll have you both back here so you’ll still have time to do your shopping and see your friend Daisy. But, it’s up to you. If you agree to come along, that would be wonderful. If you refuse, I would understand, and there would be no hard feelings.’

‘Are you sure it would be all right for me and Johnny to come to your cabin?’ Amy asked worriedly. ‘What would people say?’ She was thinking of Jack and Daisy in particular.

‘None of their business,’ he answered firmly. ‘Besides, you and the boy are the only two who know about my hideaway, and I would ask that you don’t divulge it to anyone.’

Amy readily agreed to that. ‘As you say, it’s none of their business. In any case, from what you say, I expect we should consider ourselves highly honoured. Should we?’

When she softly laughed he laughed with her. ‘You most certainly should!’ he declared. ‘And when you see my humble cabin, I hope you’ll give me your honest opinion.’

His laughter felt companionable to her and, warming to him by the minute, she conceded, ‘All right! Me and little Johnny would be happy to come with you, as long as you get us back here within two hours.’

‘Agreed.’ His whole face lit up and Amy knew he was genuinely delighted. Gesturing towards the perimeter of the marketplace he told them grandly, ‘Your chariot awaits.’

As they climbed into the car, Johnny was excited, and Amy was amazed at such luxury: smooth carpet and red leather seats, and even a soft blue rug to cover their knees. She’d already begun to realise that Luke was not in any way an ordinary working man, despite his workaday clothes. His voice was a bit posher than her father’s or Jack’s, and his hands were smooth, with neat nails.

‘This is a lovely vehicle,’ she said. Making sure Johnny was comfortable in the back, she climbed in beside him and wrapped the rug round them both. ‘Sit tight, sweetheart,’ she told him, ‘and don’t touch anything.’ She had frightening visions of him opening the door and falling out.

‘Ready, are you?’ Disappointed that she had preferred not to sit in the front with him, Luke switched on the engine and slipped into gear. A gentle touch on the accelerator and they were away down the street.

When, a short time later, they began passing familiar sights to leave Blackburn behind, Amy couldn’t help but feel excited. The industrial outskirts of the town grew less dense, the streets were wider and already the air was cleaner.

As if concerned that she might be uneasy, Luke slightly turned his head to ask, ‘You’re very quiet back there. You’re not sorry you accepted my invitation, are you?’

‘No, course not!’ Amy was quick to reassure him, ‘I’m just wondering how far it is now, that’s all?’

The gloomy, overcast day was quickly sliding into a kind of twilight. A moment ago they had turned off into a country lane; unlit and eerie, it made her nervous, though Johnny appeared to be loving every minute of the ride, with his nose stuck to the window, while giving her a detailed account of everything he could see.

‘There’s lots of water,’ he told her now, when they were speeding along through the countryside. ‘And stones and trees, and everything.’ He laughed with excitement. ‘I’d like to play down there.’

‘That’s the brook,’ Luke enlightened him. ‘It means we’re only half a mile from the cabin, but you’ll not be able to see very much from here on as the woodland thickens, so much so that the daylight is shut out in places.’

‘I don’t know if I like the sound of that,’ Amy said. ‘It must be gloomy in winter.’

‘I love it,’ he told her, ‘but you needn’t worry. I created a large clearing before I began to build. There’s plenty of sky and space immediately round the cabin.’

Amy was impressed. ‘You mean you built the cabin yourself?’

Luke smiled at her through the rear-view mirror. ‘Isn’t that what men do … build things?’

Amy gave a cynical little laugh. ‘Not the men I know.’

Intrigued and a little perturbed by her remark, he asked, ‘And how many men have you “known”?’

Amy explained. ‘None to speak of. There’s my father, who’s the loveliest man in the world. He can drive a wagon and sell snow to Eskimos, but I doubt if he could ever build a cabin. Then there’s the only other man who ever seriously meant anything to me, and he would tell you himself, he couldn’t even build a fire.’

Her mind went back to the days when she and Don were happily making plans to be man and wife, and all too soon those plans lay in ruins. ‘No. You’d never see the day when Don Carson would tackle building a cabin.’ Suddenly she wanted to talk about Don to this kind, gentle man who had invited her to share his private place. It was a way of finally exorcising Don from her life as a bad thing and turning him into a bit of a joke, a harmless, slightly foolish figure without the power to hurt her any longer.

One small memory made her chuckle. ‘He once put up some shelves in my parents’ shop. When it was finished, our mam put a few containers of biscuits up there and the whole lot fell down, taking half the wall with it.’

In a quieter, more serious voice, she revealed, ‘Me and Don were to be wed, but he backed out at the last minute.’

Not knowing what to say, Luke answered limply, ‘I’m sorry.’

‘No! It’s all right.’ Mortified at having confessed to something so private, Amy replied in a brighter voice. ‘Happen it was just as well. I’m not sure I’d like shelves and cupboards falling down round my ears.’

They laughed at that, and then fell silent.

Amy considered herself fortunate to have got over the trauma of what Don had done to her. She had learned to be philosophical about it. What was done was done, and there was no changing it now, even if she wanted to, which she didn’t. In some ways, she thought, she had had a lucky escape. She’d loved Don, yes, but she’d never quite been comfortable with him. It was as if she had felt he was holding something of himself back from her. And now, of course, she had her romance with Jack, who was open and honest as a man could be, and with whom she felt entirely comfortable – although not deeply in love.

Concentrating on skirting the many puddles in the lane, Luke reflected on what she had told him. He had no right to feel envious of this man Don Carson, but he did. In fact he thought the man was a fool for not going ahead with the marriage. To his mind, Amy was the loveliest person he’d ever met and, given half a chance, he would have been proud to take her as his wife. While Amy’s face was open and honest and readable, Sylvia could, even before her illness, be such hard work. She liked to manipulate and her motives were often unclear. She was intriguing, beautiful and never dull, but nor was she, increasingly since he’d married her, entirely comfortable to be with.

‘Well, here we are.’ Slowing the car to a crawl, Luke manoeuvred down the narrowing trackway, and the further he went, the further behind them seemed the daylight skies.

Above them, the isolated pockets of light flickered through the tree-tops, creating little specks of dancing brilliance, and Johnny, like Amy, thought it was magical.

Then suddenly the trees that had blocked their path and made the going difficult, seemed to open a way before them, and they were in a large open clearing surrounded by woodland. Just within sight came the glimmer of water as it skipped and tumbled its way through the forest.

‘Oh, it’s just beautiful!’ Peering through the window, Amy was mesmerised.

Luke drew the car to a standstill and pointed to the wooden building ahead. ‘There she is,’ he cried, ‘my pride and glory.’

Clambering out of the car behind Johnny, Amy took stock of the cabin. Larger than she had imagined, it was like a miniature house, with a front door of sizeable proportions, and long, small-paned windows either side. The slightly crooked chimney only added to its charm, and the wide, beautifully built veranda was a visual delight, with its rustic table and chairs and a deep frill of wood, which went the whole way along the entire cabin roof.

Amy laughed out loud. ‘I love it!’ Taking Johnny’s hand, she walked towards the cabin, her eager gaze enveloping it. ‘And you say you built all this, on your own?’

‘That’s right.’ Walking beside her, the can of paraffin in one fist, Luke spread the other large, capable hand before him. ‘Built it with my own two hands, a great deal of cursing and God knows how many mistakes, before it all finally seemed to fall into place.’

Climbing the steps he led them onto the veranda. ‘It’s not what you might call grand,’ he warned, ‘but it does for me.’

Leaving Amy and the boy to take in the view from the veranda, he quickly hurried inside the cabin, where he surreptitiously slid Amy’s portrait from the wall and hid it, back outwards, behind a large basket of kindling wood. Then he opened the many shutters to let a measure of light inside, before lighting the fire in the hearth. Soon the flames were licking and spitting and, to be safe, he arranged the fire screen across it.

‘There,’ he said. ‘It’ll soon be warm as toast in here.’

‘I can understand why you’ve kept all this to yourself.’ Amy had never encountered anything like this place. Deep in the heart of the forest, it was like something out of a fairy tale. ‘It’s so beautiful.’

‘I think so too.’ Although seeing Amy there in his secret place, having her so near, was another ‘beautiful’ thing. ‘What do you think of my furniture?’

Amy glanced about, surprised at how sparse the cabin was inside. And though the furniture was bulky and slightly crude, it was sturdy and wonderfully unconventional, and it was enough for his needs. ‘It isn’t what you might call grand,’ she said with a wry little smile, ‘and I dare say you’d get next to nothing for it at market. But it’s kind of special.’ Her quiet smile warmed his heart. ‘I imagine you spent many long, enjoyable hours putting it all together.’

Deeply moved by her sincere words of approval, Luke sensed something more. He felt a kindred spirit in Amy, a kind of understanding he had not experienced in anyone he had ever known.

Going to the window he gazed out, at the forest and the waters beyond and, as always, his heart was uplifted. ‘Every time I leave the town behind and come out here, I feel like I’ve been set free. It’s like I belong, if you know what I mean? I feel … part of it all.’ He smiled with embarrassment. ‘Sorry! You must think I’m some kind of oddity?’ How could he expect anyone – even Amy – to understand how he felt?

‘I don’t think that at all,’ Amy answered. ‘I think any other man, given the chance, would want the same as you have here.’ In fact, there were times, she thought, when she too might have found peace and contentment in this place. One of those times was when Don dashed all her dreams and hopes, and she was as low as a woman could get. When she could see no way forward, the urge to run away and hide had been overwhelming. Was Ben running away, she wondered.

Just then, Johnny came rushing in, and the growing closeness between Amy and Luke was broken. ‘Quick! Come and see!’ Eyes alight with excitement, he jumped up and down on the spot, the way he did when he was so happy, he could not contain himself.

When they followed him outside, the excitement turned to disappointment. ‘Oh, it’s gone now.’ Dejected, he sat on the veranda steps, his gaze reaching all around.

Amy and Luke sat down either side of him.

‘What was it?’ Amy asked. ‘What did you see?’

‘A dog.’ He pointed to the trees. ‘It was over there.’

Luke understood. ‘That was my friend,’ he said, ‘the one I told you about. Remember?’

Johnny shook his head. ‘No! It were a dog. I saw it, and now it’s gone.’

Luke put his fingers to his lips. ‘Ssh.’ Pointing to the spot Johnny had indicated, he advised, ‘If you’re very quiet, she’ll come back. It’s just that she doesn’t know you and Amy yet. But she’s a curious little thing.’

For long, breathless minutes they sat very still, watching and waiting, until suddenly there she was – the most beautiful creature, slim and elegant, her body brown and dappled and her dark brown eyes wide and her face silky as she gazed at them with nervous curiosity.

She looked at Amy and the boy, and for an instant it seemed as though she might go away, but when Luke dipped into his jacket pocket and held out his hand, she took one hesitant step forward. A wary moment, then she took another. Johnny began to fidget. She stopped, eyes alert and frightened.

Luke whispered for him to stop fidgeting.

Slowly, the creature began to tread its way towards them again. Luke kept his hand stretched out and, murmuring words of persuasion, enticed her nearer, until she was only a step away.

Now, she was nuzzling Luke’s hand, her soft, moist nose pushing against his skin and her eyes half closed as she tenderly took the corn treat. Slowly, Luke took Johnny’s tiny hand and, bringing it to the creature’s head, he tenderly stroked the length of her velvet-soft ears. ‘It’s all right,’ he kept saying, ‘it’s all right.’ And the deer knew they would not hurt her.

After a while she turned and walked away, leaving the three seated on the steps: Luke delighted that she had come out to greet his visitors, and the other two trembling with the wonder of what they had just witnessed.

‘See!’ Johnny was the first to break the wondrous silence. ‘I told you I saw a dog.’

Amy gave him a hug. ‘It wasn’t a dog,’ she said. ‘It was a deer.’

‘Can I have one?’

‘No,’ Amy laughed.

‘Why not?’ As always, Johnny wanted reasons.

‘They couldn’t live in a house,’ Luke told the boy. ‘They’re wild, you see? The forest is all they know. It took me an age to gain her trust, and now she comes to see me whenever she can.’

The boy had put two and two together. ‘Was that your friend?’

Luke nodded. ‘She’s my best friend in all the world.’

‘Can I see her again?’

Raising his gaze to Amy, Luke answered, ‘That’s not for me to say. You’ll need to ask Amy.’

Amy read his thoughts and her heart turned somersaults. ‘We’ll see,’ she told Johnny. ‘For now, though, we’d best be making tracks back to Daisy.’

At that, Luke clambered up. ‘Not before you’ve sampled my tea,’ he said hopefully. ‘There’s plenty of time yet.’

Amy agreed. ‘But then we’ll have to go,’ she finished reluctantly.

Taking a bucket, he walked ahead. ‘You can come with me to the brook, if you like?’

And so they went, and Johnny ran on ahead while Luke and Amy talked of the deer, and Luke’s cosy cabin, and Amy revealed how pleased she was that he’d asked them along.

As they broke through the woods to emerge near a fast-flowing brook, Luke warned, ‘Stay away from the edge, Johnny. It’s dangerously slippery underfoot.’

While he filled his bucket with clean fresh water, Amy kept the boy a short distance away. ‘I want to live here,’ Johnny declared. ‘We can bring Mammy and all of us, and make a house like Ben’s.’

‘That would be nice,’ Amy humoured him, ‘only we have to work, or we won’t have any money.’

‘Ben lives here,’ Johnny answered. ‘He doesn’t work, and it’s all right.’ And the boy’s innocent remark got Amy thinking.

On the way back, while Johnny went forward towards the cabin, Amy took the opportunity to ask Luke about himself. ‘I think I already mentioned that I work in my parents’ shop,’ she began.

‘That’s right.’

Curious, but needing to know more about him, Amy asked tentatively, ‘Would it be too forward of me to ask, what kind of work you do?’

At her question he slowed his step, but he kept his gaze to the ground and remained silent for a time.

Her curiosity had set his mind racing. Should he tell her the truth about himself? And if he was ever going to confide in her, then surely this would be the best chance he might ever get.

But wouldn’t that put him in a bad light with her? After all, he had blatantly lied, calling himself by the name of Ben. If he was now to reveal the truth, what would she think of him? What if it turned her against him? Oh, he didn’t want that. He would never want that.

Amy waited for his answer. When he was hesitant, she suspected he might be angry that she should have asked about his business, especially when he was so obviously a man who valued his privacy. After all, he was evidently no woodlander but a man of means with a smart motor car and the time and income to indulge himself with this charming grown-up playhouse. Maybe he was well known in Blackburn – he seemed to know Blackburn well – and was hiding a very public identity. Whatever, Amy decided there was no sinister motive – Ben was much too kind for that – so he must just be an intensely private person and she had intruded with her question.

As they reached the clearing, Amy murmured, ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.’

Luke’s answer was curt. ‘You didn’t offend me.’ Taking hold of Johnny’s hand, Amy followed Luke into the cabin. ‘I asked what you did for a living, and it’s none of my business,’ she persisted. ‘I had no right to ask. Forget I mentioned it, will you? Please?’

Luke turned to smile at her. ‘It’s forgotten.’

He then went to the drawer and, taking out a sheaf of drawing paper, gave it to Johnny. ‘You can sit at the table and draw if you like?’ He had his own reasons for wanting to keep the boy entertained.

Johnny climbed onto the chair. ‘What will I draw?’

‘Whatever you please. You can draw our little friend with her big soft eyes, or you can draw the boulders with the water tumbling over. It’s up to you.’

‘I’d like to paddle in that water,’ Johnny declared boldly, ‘but I might drown! That’s what I think.’

Luke laughed out loud. ‘You think right!’ he said. ‘But you won’t drown while me and Amy are about, because we’d soon be in the water to get you out. But the water here is fast-flowing and dangerous. The best thing of all is to stay right away from it, at least until you learn to swim.’

While they talked, Amy stayed at the back of the room from where she observed them together. She saw how trusting Johnny was, and recalled how he had taken to Ben from the start. She saw how protective Ben was towards Johnny. And she was deeply moved by it.

When he turned to regard her with that deep, intense gaze, Amy felt her heart turn somersaults.

‘Have you time for a hot drink before you go?’ he asked hopefully.

‘Thank you, yes. I’d like that.’

She offered to make the tea but he would hear none of it. ‘You’re my guest,’ he said, and quickly set about boiling the water on the paraffin stove.

When the tea was made and he had poured three cups, one of which he left to cool for Johnny, he took the other two and went in search of Amy, who had gone outside.

Seated on the veranda steps, she had one wary eye on Johnny and the other on the distant brook. It was so unbelievably beautiful here, she thought. If she had not known different she could have imagined herself to be anywhere but in the vicinity of Blackburn.

In town, the sky hung low and ominous, while here, the sky seemed far out of reach. In town the streets were lined with lampposts and never a tree in sight, while here the trees stood tall and strong, with their branches stretching all around like a galaxy of giant umbrellas. Then there, just beyond, was the water, just as he had described, ‘fast-flowing and dangerous’.

This countryside was all a new and splendid experience to Amy, and there was a glory about it that held her gaze and lifted her soul, and in that moment, in the clear light, with the rustle of leaves and muted winter call of birds, when she seemed so much a part of it, she never wanted to leave. She would be content to stay for ever in this magical place.

Behind her, Luke stood holding the cups, his quiet eyes drinking in the sight of Amy, and his heart more content than he had known in an age. It seemed so right and natural that she should be here, and he could hardly believe it.

All this time he had gazed at her painting and longed to speak with her and share her smile, and now here she was, real and warm, and, if her expression was anything to go by, her heart, like his, was deeply touched by this very special place.

Not wanting to break the silence but knowing he must, he stepped forward and reaching down, handed her the cup of tea. Then he sat beside her.

‘Just now, you seemed so far away … deep in thought?’

She nodded, her voice little more than a whisper. ‘I was thinking how a body might well want to stay here, and never leave.’

‘You’re right,’ he murmured. ‘I’ve felt that way, since I first came to this little paradise.’

Amy was curious. ‘How did you find it?’

He told her about coming here with his grandparents, who had owned the land, in his school holidays, and how the woods had become associated with those carefree times. Here he had learned to fish and survive a day at the hands of nature, to appreciate the beauty and solitude of this lovely part of Lancashire. Now the land was his.

Amy finished the tale for him. ‘So, you made this clearing and built your cabin, and now this is where you hide, when the weight of the world weighs you down?’

For a moment he did not answer. He looked into her eyes and there he saw a reflection of his own, deeper feelings. ‘I do love it here,’ he answered, ‘and you’re right: this is where I hide.’

He glanced back to see how Johnny was occupied with his drawing. ‘Amy?’

‘Yes?’

‘Must you go?’

‘You know I have to.’

‘Will you ever come back, do you think?’

Amy shrugged. ‘Who knows?’

‘But you won’t promise?’

‘I can’t promise.’

She so much wanted to come back here; even to leave little Johnny at home and be here with Ben, just the two of them. But she was afraid of the way he made her feel. There was something about this place, about him, that made her wary. She was fond of Jack, but she could not recall ever feeling like this with him. It was strange. And a little frightening.

Finishing her tea, she stood up to place her cup on the handrail. ‘It’s time we went,’ she said. ‘I’ll get Johnny.’

As she brushed past him, he caught her by the hand.

‘Wait!’ A look of anxiety shaded his features. ‘There’s something you need to know.’

Amy sensed his concern and was afraid. ‘What is it?’

‘I lied to you,’ he went on quickly before he might lose his courage. ‘My name isn’t Ben. It’s …’ he hesitated, before finishing in a rush, ‘my name is Luke Hammond.’

It took only a second or two to register in Amy’s mind. ‘Luke Hammond?’ Stunned, she stared at him. ‘Luke Hammond, the factory owner?’ The anger rose inside her. He had lied to her! Why had he felt the need to lie?

When he nodded, she turned from him without another word. Hurrying into the cabin, she felt a pang of fear when the boy was nowhere to be seen. ‘Johnny?’ When suddenly her eyes alighted on him, she gave a sigh of relief. Having wandered to the other side of the room, he was peering at something against the wall. She went across to him at a run. ‘Come on, Johnny.’ Taking him by the hand, she told him, ‘We have to go.’

Having put the fire screen in place, Luke waited at the door. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I’ll take you back now.’ He cursed himself for not having told her the truth from the start. But he had been afraid to tell her. He had hoped always to keep his identity secret, because the man he was today was the man he desperately needed to be. It was not the man who ran the factory and held his life together with duty and responsibility. He had never wanted Amy tainted with all that. She was already, in his mind, a part of this retreat on the Tuesdays when the factory owner became a free man.

As they drove home, the silence weighed heavy.

No one spoke, not even Johnny, who sensed an atmosphere and instinctively curled himself into Amy’s embrace. In a matter of minutes the gentle bumping of the car and the hum of the engine lulled him to sleep.

When the car drew up at the market, Luke clambered out to open the back door.

‘I’m sorry,’ he told Amy. ‘I should never have lied to you.’ Reaching into the car he helped them both out, Johnny being still dozy from his sleep. ‘Will you stay a minute?’ Luke asked her. ‘Let me explain?’

Amy shook her head. ‘We have to go.’

Luke persisted. ‘It doesn’t matter, does it … who I am?’

She had been doing up Johnny’s coat buttons, but now she paused and, looking up, took stock of him for a minute – that mop of dark hair, those intense, sad eyes – and she felt a pang of guilt. He had been nothing but kind and hospitable to her and Johnny – and had done them the honour of sharing his private retreat with them. ‘No,’ she answered. ‘It doesn’t matter. But we have to go now.’

Visibly relieved with her answer, he asked, ‘Will you forgive me?’

She nodded. That was all. A curt, hesitant little nod, but it was enough for Luke. For now.

Amy finished buttoning Johnny’s coat.

‘Are we going to see Daisy?’ Wakening fast, he smiled up at Luke. ‘I like your friend,’ he said. ‘She’s mine too now, isn’t she?’

Luke ruffled his hair. ‘She certainly is,’ he said brightly, ‘and I hope I’m your friend too … yours and Amy’s?’ He turned his attention to her, but she made no reply. Instead she wondered what kind of man he was, to lie like that, even to the boy.

‘Thank you for a lovely time,’ she told him, for it had been wonderful – until he spoiled it, she thought regretfully.

In a minute he was in his car and driving back the way they had just come.

‘You’re a damned fool, Hammond!’ he told himself. ‘You should have been truthful from the start, especially with a woman like Amy.’

He thought about his situation and the way he was forever torn two ways. He thought about his unhappy, mundane life and the split between the man he was and the man he wanted to be, and he wondered if sometimes his fantasies got in the way of real life. He hoped not. For if that was the case, it might well be the first step to madness.

‘Why aren’t we going to see Daisy?’ Johnny was bitterly disappointed. ‘You said we could.’

‘I know I did, and I’m sorry.’ Having rushed the boy and herself across the marketplace, Amy had paid the tram fare and now they were in their seats and on the way home. ‘We stayed too long away,’ she said. ‘It’s too late to go to Daisy’s.’

‘Can we see her tomorrow?’

Amy recalled something Maureen had said that morning. ‘I think your mammy said she was going into town tomorrow,’ she answered. ‘Maybe you’ll see Daisy then.’

She wondered whether to tell Daisy about today, or if it might be better not to mention it at all. But then, Johnny was sure to say something. But even if he did, she mused, there was no reason why Daisy should know that the man involved was Luke Hammond himself.

The name was emblazoned in her mind. Luke Hammond. A wealthy man. A man of secrets.

Johnny busied himself looking out the window. ‘I saw your picture.’

Amy had been deep in thought. ‘Sorry, sweetheart, what did you say?’

He turned to look at her. ‘He had your picture. It was nice.’

Amy’s heart skipped a beat. ‘What do you mean, Johnny? Who had my picture?’

‘The man … Ben. It was a nice picture.’ He grinned shyly. ‘I peeped.’

‘Are you sure it was me?’ she asked, trying to sound calm.

He shook his head. ‘Don’t know.’ Now he wasn’t so sure, especially as Amy wasn’t very happy about it. ‘I shouldn’t have peeped, should I?’

Amy hugged him. ‘It’s all right,’ she assured him. ‘I expect it was something and nothing. We’ll just forget about it. All right?’

Johnny had been drawing, and the drawing was left behind. No doubt he had drawn her likeness, as he had done many times before. It was of no consequence.

His quick, bright smile warmed her heart. ‘All right,’ he said.

And it was quickly forgotten.

For the rest of the journey, Amy turned her thoughts to Luke. Why had he felt the need to lie? And why would a man like Luke Hammond want a ‘hideaway’?

Deep down she understood, because weren’t there times when she too would like a hideaway where she could sit and think and let the madness of the world pass her by?

And why not a man like Luke Hammond; a man who worked as hard and long as he did, and when his work was done he had to go back to a reputedly difficult and demanding woman, a woman who had cheated on their marriage? Of course he needed a sanctuary.

She had felt such a bond between them when they were at the cabin – a sense of growing friendship. She thought of his strong hands as he scooped the water from the brook with the bucket, his gentleness with the tame deer, and his delight in showing the creature to his visitors. She thought of his sad dark eyes, his handsome face and tender manner.

So he had lied about his name? But that was just to protect his privacy, and to avoid making her feel uncomfortable, wasn’t it? After all, if he’d revealed that he was Luke Hammond at the outset, would she have accepted his invitation? Probably not.

It had been fun at his lovely woodland hideaway – until she’d spoiled things. Johnny was already asking to go back. But Luke Hammond would, she thought with a sudden rush of regret, not invite her to go again.