Читать книгу Josephine Cox Sunday Times Bestsellers Collection - Josephine Cox - Страница 23

HAVING INFORMED PATRICIA of the date he would return, Leonard half-expected her to be waiting for him when he disembarked at Liverpool. Unfortunately, she was nowhere to be seen, even though he lingered for almost an hour, walking up and down searching every avenue in case he should miss her.

Finally he hailed a taxi and, bitterly disappointed, travelled back alone. He knew the house would be clean and tidy, thanks to his daily woman, Mrs Riley, who ran the place and used Lucy Baker on a Saturday to do any extra jobs. But it would be cold and lonely, too.

Arriving at The Manse he paid the driver and went inside; where the warm, earthy aroma of fresh bread filled his nostrils and took him straight to the kitchen. ‘Why, it’s young Lucy!’ He was astonished to see her, sleeves rolled up, taking a crusty-baked loaf out of the oven.

‘Welcome home, Mr Maitland,’ she said with a shy smile. ‘Vicky offered to look after Jamie so I could nip in and make you some supper, after your long journey. There’s mushroom soup to go with the bread. I didn’t think you’d want anything too heavy, so late in the day. Oh, and I’ve lit a fire downstairs and one in your bedroom. I hope that’s all right?’ She looked anxious.

He smiled. ‘It’s more than all right – it’s a wonderful welcome. Thank you, my dear, for being so very thoughtful.’ More thoughtful than his so-called fiancée, he thought.

Lucy took off her pinny and went to get her coat and hat. ‘Don’t slice the bread while it’s still warm,’ she urged. ‘It’ll only squash up and you won’t get a clean slice.’

‘I’ll let it cool,’ he promised. ‘Now go home and get some rest.’ All he wanted was to be alone, put his feet up, eat from a tray and enjoy a strong drink. ‘There’s a chill in the air.’ He held Lucy’s coat open for her. ‘It was cold in Boston, too.’

‘Good night, Mr Maitland. It’s good to see you back.’ Lucy hoped she wasn’t being too familiar. She was rather in awe of Leonard.

He smiled. ‘It’s lovely to be home,’ he told her.

By ten o’clock that evening, Leonard had bathed and changed, eaten three slices of the best bread he had ever tasted, dipped into a sizeable bowl of hot, thick mushroom soup; the whole lot washed down by two cups of tea and a tot of best whisky.

God, it was good to be back by his own fireside. Yawning, he was thinking about going to bed when a moment later, he was taken by surprise when the door opened and in walked Patricia, done up in all her finery and looking especially beautiful.

Purring like a kitten she wrapped herself round him. ‘You smell delicious,’ she whispered, caressing him and deeply arousing him. ‘I’ve missed you, my darling.’

Summoning all his courage, he drew away. ‘Did you now?’ he asked cynically. ‘So, why did you forget to meet me at the docks?’

She gave a long, impatient sigh. ‘I didn’t forget,’ she answered rather petulantly. ‘It was just … well, I went shopping. I wanted to look my very best when you saw me. It got late, and by the time I reached the dock, you must have already left.’

‘So, you would rather go shopping than come and meet me, is that it?’

Her expression hardened. ‘No – but does it really matter? I’m here now, aren’t I?’

Having moved away when she saw he was angry, she now came at him again, her avaricious eyes appraising his body and her roving hands touching him in all the right spots. ‘I’m really sorry.’ She put her lips to his ears and softly blew. ‘I’ve missed you … I want you so much.’

He wanted her too. All the while he had been in Boston he had wondered if he should end his engagement the minute he got home. But now, when she was close like this, and his need was pressing, he had little control. He was a man, with a man’s hunger, and here she was, a beautiful woman, his fiancée, freely offering herself to him.

So, he took her hand and walked her to the foot of the stairs, where he swept her into his arms and carried her up to his bedroom, lit and warmed by the fire Lucy had set earlier.

He carried her inside and closed the door behind them.

And they did not come out until morning.

It was eight-thirty the next morning when he took Patricia home to her parents’ grand house on the other side of Liverpool. ‘I’ll see you later,’ she told him. ‘We can talk more about your trip to Boston then. I’m sure Daddy will loan you all the money you need, then there will be no need to sell Overhill Farm. Or you could still sell it and start a different business – nothing to do with farming. I think that would be a good idea, don’t you?’

‘I’ve already said, I don’t want you discussing my business with your father,’ Leonard said tightly.

‘Why ever not?’

‘For reasons you would not understand.’ This woman was suffocating him.

‘All right, but I think you’re being selfish.’

Dear God. ‘Like you said, I’ll see you later.’ He couldn’t trust himself to say anything else at that moment.

As he watched her go inside, he thought, The more you open your mouth, the more I realise we will never be suited.

At that moment in time, Leonard was not only concerned about his relationship with Patricia. There was Barney and his entire family to think of now. How would they take the news that the farm was being sold from under them? And what would Barney’s answer be, when Leonard asked him to come with him to America? And even if Barney agreed, what of Vicky and the three children? Would they be prepared to leave behind everything they knew?

Only now when he was home, did Leonard come to realise how huge a step he was taking, giving up his life here, moving back to the States, taking up his grandfather’s crumbling business and starting it again from scratch, already deep in debt.

In the end, for whatever reason, he was now embarking on a lonely, daunting journey.

Early the following morning, Leonard drove into Liverpool. As always, the city was a busy, vibrant place, despite the serious problems of poverty and unemployment.

When he found the address he was looking for, Leonard drew into the kerb and parked. A sign hanging above the offices read:

W.H. Brewer & SonLand Agents

Leonard had dealt before with the tall, whiskery-faced man inside, who greeted him now with: ‘Ah, good morning, Mr Maitland. How can I help you, sir?’ He pulled out a chair in his office for Leonard to sit on.

Mr Brewer was always very polite, particularly with a man of Mr Maitland’s admirable character. Moreover, Leonard was a good customer, having piece by piece expanded his landholding until it was now some 400 acres in total.

While shaking hands he informed Leonard, ‘If you’ve come looking for land, I’m afraid there is absolutely nothing at the moment. Investing in land is being seen as a reliable option these days; we have it one minute and it’s gone the next. Oh – and the prices are on the up and up all the while.’

Leonard could hardly conceal his delight. He had been basing his own valuation of the land on rather pessimistic calculations. ‘This is good news for me,’ he answered, ‘because I’m here to sell my entire holding.’

The other man was visibly shocked. ‘Everything? Are you sure?’ he asked. ‘The farm and the house and outbuildings, too?’

‘Everything,’ Leonard confirmed, ‘although I haven’t yet decided what to do about my old gardener’s cottage.’

‘Really?’ The agent was intrigued. ‘From what I can recall, it’s little more than a ruin?’

Leonard nodded. ‘Well yes, it is, and I’ve done nothing to it since he’s been left these past years. It’s a tiny place, with only one bedroom, and a scullery a man can hardly turn about in. I’m sorry to say it’s been left to the elements; the little garden is shamefully overgrown, and the whole place is somewhat tumbledown. But I may have a mind to hang on to it so I’d appreciate it if you would exclude it from the sale.’

‘What about Barney Davidson’s cottage?’ The agent knew how Leonard valued Barney and his sons.

‘Hopefully, he won’t be needing the cottage,’ came the reply. ‘I have other, more rewarding plans for him and his family.’

Thoughtfully, Mr Brewer stroked his finger along his beard. ‘I should think we could get a substantial amount for that lot,’ came the welcome answer. ‘In fact, I could sell it tomorrow to a gentleman who has been searching for a property such as yours. But it would be best if we trod extra carefully on this one,’ he said sagely. ‘Of course I shall inform the gentleman straight away, but I will also inform some of my other clients, who might be interested in acquiring smaller parcels of land rather than the whole.’

Leonard knew only too well that buyers’ ambitions were always dictated by the amount of capital they could raise. He thought of his own circumstances. If he had been able to pay off his grandfather’s debts without selling his own land, he would not be in this office today.

‘Sometimes, for whatever reason, a man may have more need of a smaller parcel of land,’ the agent went on. ‘But this can work well in our favour.’

He explained. ‘We could sell off say, three hundred acres either in a single lot, or if you preferred, we could separate it into smaller units. That would leave one hundred acres with the house – which is a small farm in itself. This way, the sale will attract more money, or at the very least it will create competition, which will return a far more handsome price than if we went straight to the gentleman in question and sold him the entire holding.’

Leonard liked the idea. ‘Let them fight it out between them – is that what you’re saying?’

The Land Agent’s smile was positively wicked. ‘Of course, let them fight it out. And why not?’

So they got down to facts and figures, and when the meeting was over, Leonard dared to hope that if all went well, he might even be able to pay the US creditors every single dollar they were owed.

With that in mind, he got back into his car and drove straight to Overhill Farm, where he found Vicky standing on a box, singing to herself and cleaning the kitchen windows. When he saw her, he slowed down, his mood brightening even further at the sight of the small, familiar figure, her long silken hair gently lifted by the cool breeze. And now as she stretched on tiptoe to reach the upper part of the panes, his eyes were drawn to her slim, shapely ankles and calves. ‘You’re a lucky man, Barney Davidson,’ he whispered, and now, as she turned to look straight at him, his heart did a dance inside his chest so he could hardly breathe.

‘Morning, Vicky.’ His voice gave nothing away as he climbed out of the car and went towards her. ‘I wonder if I might have a word with Barney. Is he around?’

‘Sorry, Mr Maitland, he’s out in Top Field,’ she said, preparing to clamber off the box. She was taken by surprise when Leonard reached his hands round her waist and lifted her down without effort. ‘He’s checking the sheep,’ she said, her face flushing pink. ‘I can fetch him if you like?’

‘No, it’s all right,’ Leonard said. ‘Best not disturb him at his work. What I have to say can wait until this evening.’

‘Are you sure? It won’t take above five minutes for me to fetch him. I can settle you with a cup of tea before I go?’ Vicky’s curiosity was heightened; it wasn’t often the boss came down here to talk in the middle of the day.

‘No, no,’ he told her. ‘It’s fine. But will you please tell him I called by, and that I have business to discuss with him.’ He paused, not wanting to alarm her. ‘If you wouldn’t mind, Vicky, I’d like you to be there as well. In fact, what I have to say might concern all of you.’

Seeing her expression of concern, he quickly added, ‘I’d rather not discuss it now, but I’ll be here at about eight. Will you have finished your evening meal by then?’

‘Well, yes, but – what is it, Mr Maitland? What’s wrong? It all seems very serious.’

‘You’re not to worry,’ he said gently. ‘We’ll talk this evening, then. Goodbye for now.’ Quickly, before she could ask any more questions, he climbed into the car and drove off, leaving Vicky in a quandary.

‘Is everything all right?’ Lucy had seen Leonard leave and now, with Vicky seeming deep in thought, her happy singing silenced and the window-cloth hanging forgotten in her hand, she grew alarmed.

‘He told me not to worry,’ Vicky answered, ‘but it’s odd all the same.’ She raised her gaze to Lucy. ‘Mr Maitland says he has business to discuss with me and Barney.’ Picking up her bucket she dumped the cloth in it and walked to the kitchen door. ‘It all seems very serious to me,’ she told Lucy. ‘He’s coming back tonight, after we’ve had our supper.’

‘Crikey!’ Lucy had become as close to this family as if she was born to it, and what affected them, was bound to affect her. ‘What d’you reckon it could be, to fetch him out here at this time of day? And you say he’s coming back again tonight …’

There was something not right here, Lucy thought. Something was brewing and like Vicky she, too, was afraid.

Her friend began pacing the kitchen floor. ‘I’m not sure what to do, Lucy,’ she said. ‘Should I go and tell Barney now, or should I simply get on with my work and tell him when he comes home?’

‘Do you want my opinion?’ Lucy asked.

‘Of course!’

‘Do what you just said – wait till Barney gets home. Let’s have a cup of tea and a sandwich like we allus do at this time of day, then we’ll get on with our work and leave Barney to do the same. Tell him tonight, but not until after he’s had his dinner, because if you tell him before, he’ll be so worried he won’t eat.’

‘You’re right, lass,’ Vicky agreed. ‘That’s what we’ll do.’

While Lucy went to fetch Jamie from his nap, Vicky put the kettle on. Dear God, was there some sort of trouble in store? Just now, when everything was going so well, she prayed their lives were not about to be disrupted.

In the sitting room, where Lucy was lifting the child from the pram, she had that same sense of dread. ‘Mr Maitland’s been here,’ she told little Jamie. ‘It seems he’s got business to discuss with Barney and Vicky. I can’t imagine what it could be, but it’s important enough for him to come back and talk with them tonight.’ She tutted. ‘I just hope it isn’t bad news.’

She kissed his head and sat him on the little enamel potty for a minute or two chiding herself for thinking the worst. For all she knew, it might even be good news. And keeping that in mind, she took the little boy to join Vicky, who was just laying the table for the three of them.

As she dragged the high chair across to the table, Lucy commented, ‘Happen Mr Maitland is right and you shouldn’t worry. I mean, it might be good news he’s bringing tonight. There’s no reason why it should be anything bad, is there?’

‘No, there isn’t!’ Vicky’s face lit in a smile. ‘You could be right, lass – it might be good news.’ The woman was glad of Lucy’s encouraging words. ‘It could be something to do with buying another tractor, mebbe, or he might even be sending in the workmen to put a new roof on this place. Lord knows, it’s been leaking long enough.’ She gave a comical little laugh. ‘Barney’s repaired it so many times it’s beginning to look like a patchwork quilt.’

Going off to the scullery, she reappeared with a tray containing a pot of tea and four chunky ham-and-chutney sandwiches, together with a dish of soup for the child and an apple.

Vicky took a hearty bite out of her sandwich. She chatted and laughed with the little boy and his mother, but all the while at the back of her mind was Leonard’s visit.

Lucy liked to think the best.

Vicky thought the worst.

She also thought of that unexpected moment when their employer had put his hands round her waist and lifted her effortlessly to the ground … ‘Leonard Maitland is a kind man,’ she told Lucy now, unable to leave the subject for long. ‘I can’t imagine he’s about to bring us bad news.’

‘Huh!’ Lucy spooned a helping of soup into her son’s mouth. ‘It’s that woman he’s chosen to be his wife who’s the bad news. The poor man came all the way back from his long journey, and there wasn’t anyone with him. Don’t you think she should have met him off his ship? No, if you ask me, he’ll have a life of hell if he ever puts a ring on that one’s finger.’

‘I hope not,’ Vicky answered quietly. ‘He’s such a lovely man, he deserves a good marriage.’

‘Like you and your Barney,’ Lucy said. ‘But not every marriage can be as good as yours, you know.’

‘I’ve been fortunate,’ Vicky said wistfully. ‘Oh Lucy, I love him so much! I don’t know what I’d do without him. God did a wonderful thing, when He brought me and my Barney together.’

Not for the first time, Lucy wondered if she would ever know that same kind of love. ‘I wonder what Edward Trent is doing now?’ she said.

‘Do you care?’ Vicky was surprised to hear the girl mention that man’s name.

Lucy shook her head. ‘No. To tell you the truth, I don’t know how I could ever have thought I loved him in the first place.’

‘Well, at least he gave you little Jamie.’ Vicky had come to love the child as if he was her own.

Lucy gazed fondly at her son. ‘I know it’s a sad thing to say, but I hope he grows up, never knowing his father.’

Vicky saw the bitterness in Lucy’s face and deliberately changed the subject. ‘Uh-oh – look at the time,’ she said. ‘Let’s finish the chores, and after that, you and young James should get yourselves home before it starts getting dark. Besides, you must be bone-tired. What with cleaning all the upstairs windows and changing every bed in the house, you’ve done two days’ work in one. I honestly don’t know how I ever managed before you came to join us. Thank you, love.’

‘Are you sure?’ It was true – Lucy was exhausted and there was nothing she wanted more right now than to go home for a well-earned rest. However, seeing how worried Vicky was, she offered, ‘I don’t mind staying to help prepare the evening meal. I’m sure Barney or one of the boys would run me home.’

Vicky shook her head. ‘Don’t think I’m not grateful,’ she told Lucy, ‘but I’m best off working. By the time I’ve got the supper ready, Barney should be home. Soonever he’s eaten, I’ll tell him how Mr Maitland’s coming by to visit.’

As she helped clear away the crockery, she added, almost to herself, ‘I can’t wait to know what business he has that he couldn’t discuss with me – especially as he said he wants me there when he talks with Barney.’

A short time later, Lucy left, holding the little boy by his hand. It wasn’t far to walk back to the cottage. She often left the pram at Overhill Farm. ‘I hope everything goes all right,’ she told Vicky. ‘If you need me, you know where I am.’

At eight-thirty, Mr Maitland arrived. Welcoming him into the house, Barney took him straight through to the sitting room. ‘Vicky tells me that this matter you need to talk through might affect us all.’

‘That’s right, Barney.’ Leonard glanced round the room. ‘Your children not here then?’

Barney explained, ‘My sons have gone to meet friends in Liverpool and Susie is taking extra tuition on the hat-making. There is no need for them to be here. If you’re bringing bad news, it’s best that me and Vicky know first. That way we can talk to the young ’uns ourselves.’

‘I understand.’ Leonard had no way of knowing how all this might affect Barney’s children. Even if Barney accepted his offer, the children might not.

‘You’d best sit down.’ Barney gestured to the armchair, while he and Vicky sat side-by-side on the sofa. ‘I might tell you, I’ve been on pins since Vicky told me.’

Leonard sat down. He looked at the pair of them seated there, fine, kind-hearted people, hardworking as the day was long, and his heart sank within him. ‘I have to tell you both …’ he began. Then: ‘This has not been the easiest day of my life.’

Barney looked him in the eye. ‘So, it is bad news then?’

‘I suppose it all depends on how you see it.’ Leonard chose his words carefully as he went on, ‘I’ve come here tonight, firstly to explain the outcome of my trip to Boston, and secondly, to ask something of you both.’

He took a deep invigorating breath. ‘What I have to tell you has been playing on my mind these past weeks. It will be a relief to have it out in the open. I’m not like you, Barney,’ he said kindly. ‘I’ve always struggled to make friends.’ He smiled shyly. ‘In fact, I’d go so far as to say that you two are the nearest to friends that I’ve got. I have no family – no wife or children to talk things over with, so when I have problems, they often weigh heavy on my mind.’

When Barney seemed about to speak, he gestured for him to stop. ‘I don’t want you to say anything just yet, Barney. As you already know, I was summoned to Boston in order to learn the terms and conditions of my grandfather’s Will, and to tie up any loose ends out there.’

He looked away momentarily as though in shame, and went on in a low voice: ‘It was a great shock for me to learn that my grandfather had taken up gambling and was up to his neck in debt when he died, with all his land and properties on the point of being sold from under him.’

At the gasp of disbelief from Barney and Vicky, he got swiftly to the point. ‘It means two things,’ he said, ‘and each of them will affect you and your family, in at least one way that I can see.’

He went on in great detail, telling them how it had all come about, how he had worked every waking moment to save what he could. There had been sacrifices made, and his own future, as well as theirs, was now hanging in the balance. ‘I’m sorry to tell you that I have no option but to sell both The Manse and Overhill Farm.’ There was no other way to say it but straight out.

Rendered speechless by the news, Barney stood up and with haggard eyes, he looked first at Leonard, and then at Vicky. His face white as chalk, he reached out for his wife’s hand. Deeply concerned, she could only leave it to the men and hope they might salvage something worthwhile from this nightmare.

Leonard would have given almost anything to remove the look of devastation on Barney’s face. ‘If there had been any other way, you know I would have taken it,’ he said helplessly, and wondered if there had been any kinder way he could have broken the news.

He plunged on. ‘I have many business contacts in the farming world, and I’m sure I can get you a place locally, if it’s what you want. Oh, I know it will never be the same because you’ve been here all these years, but you only have to say the word and I’ll find something – you know I will.’

Barney nodded. ‘Thank you for that,’ he said quietly, ‘but you’re right – it’s small compensation. I’ve been here so long, it’s as if I’ve lived here all my life. My children have never known anything else.’

Leonard had one more thing to say before he left. ‘There is one other option …’

Pre-empting his words, Barney interrupted, ‘If you’re offering me first refusal of the farm, there is no way on God’s earth I could ever buy it. I’m not a man of money, I never have been. I’ve lived content year to year, raising my family and tending the land—’

Leonard stopped him. ‘It’s not that, Barney. I know you haven’t the means to buy this farm, otherwise it would be yours. What I’m asking of you now needs even more commitment from you, and your family.’

‘What do you mean?’ Barney was puzzled. ‘What is it you’re asking?’

Leonard glanced at Vicky; sad-faced and twining her fingers together in her lap, she was obviously deeply disturbed by events.

‘I’ve managed to save my grandfather’s estate,’ he began. ‘It took some doing and I’ve never been in so much debt in my entire life, but I couldn’t let it go without doing my damnedest to keep it.’

‘I’m pleased for you, Mr Maitland.’ Barney was magnanimous in his own disappointment. ‘I know how much you loved that place. You’ve talked about it that many times, I almost feel I know it myself.’

‘That’s excellent!’ Barney’s remarks took Leonard naturally into his proposition. ‘How would you like to see it, Barney – you and your family?’ He looked again at Vicky, who was intent on his every word.

While Barney was momentarily taken aback, it was she who replied. ‘What exactly do you mean?’

In tender, persuasive tones he told her what he had in mind. ‘It’s my dearest wish for all of you to come with me. I would like Barney and your sons to help me run the farm, and for yourself to take charge of the house. As for young Susie, there are any number of milliners in Boston – it’s a very smart place – who will teach her the trade, if that’s what she really wants.’

With the two of them shocked into silence, he leaned forward, hands on his knees and his eyes pleading with them each in turn. ‘Barney … Vicky, please think about it. It would mean so much to me, if you would agree.’

When Barney spoke now, it was with a surge of emotion that trembled in his voice. ‘But why?’ he asked. ‘Why would you want me and my family, when you could employ the best that money could buy?’

In Barney’s face, Leonard could see the tiniest glimmer of hope. ‘Oh Barney, don’t you know that you’re the best there is! That’s why I want you – because I know the calibre of you, and I know that the homestead would be in good hands.’

He grew tremendously excited. ‘Not only would I be taking the very best, but I’d be taking with me people I consider to be my friends … good people whom I’ve known for many a year.’ He actually laughed out loud. ‘Oh, you can’t imagine what it’s like over there. In Massachusetts, there’s so much sky, you think it goes on forever! And the land … You could ride for half a day before you reach its borders. Boston itself is the capital – three hundred years old and full of history. Not everything in America is like Charlie Chaplin, you know!’ He chuckled merrily.

By now he was on his feet. ‘Say you’ll come. Please, talk to your family. Tell them how it will be. You’ll have a house twice the size of this one, and a garden to lose yourself in. There’s an orchard – yes, it’s overgrown now, but we’ll soon get it round. Please! Say you’ll accept this challenge. I won’t let you down, and if after a while you’re not happy there, I’ll pay for you to come back, and I’ll find you a house and work into the bargain. What d’you say? Barney … Vicky? Will you come?’

Suddenly Barney was laughing; the look of joy on Vicky’s face urged him on. A moment later he was shaking Leonard by the hand. ‘If the family are all in agreement, then our answer is yes, oh YES!’ In the space of a moment his despair was replaced by a sense of joy.

In the excitement that followed, Vicky kissed Barney and then she kissed Leonard, and he was overjoyed.

‘Talk to your sons and Susie,’ he said. ‘Tell them how wonderful a life it will be.’

Barney promised he would. ‘Such an opportunity!’ he declared. ‘A new start – a new life. I can’t thank you enough,’ he told Leonard. ‘It’s the most amazing thing!’

A short time later, Leonard hurried away to collect Patricia. Behind him he could hear the Davidsons’ old phonograph belting out some Dixieland jazz, and through the window as he drove off, he saw Barney take Vicky into his arms and wing her across the room. He smiled for them, the smile fading as he thought ahead to his meeting with his fiancée. Would it ever be like that with him and Patricia? In subdued mood, he answered his own question: no. He couldn’t see it somehow.

Screeching the car to a halt, he did a three-point turn and took the lane that would lead him home.

When he arrived at The Manse, he was surprised to find Patricia already there, emerging from a taxi. Once inside the house, she turned to him and said, ‘Look here, Lenny. I’ve decided I can’t come with you to America, so if you want me for your wife, you will just have to forget your foolhardy plan.’

‘And is your mind absolutely made up?’ he asked quietly.

‘It is.’

‘Then you don’t give me any choice, Patricia.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘It means our engagement is over. I know now that we can never make a future together.’

‘You can’t say that! You’re not thinking straight.’

When he continued to stand his ground, even when she nuzzled him and tried her usual wiles, she took a step back and eyed him with suspicion. ‘There’s another woman, isn’t there?’ Her eyeballs stood out like two glittering marbles. ‘You’ve been cheating on me. American, is she? Met her over there, did you?’ With every accusation her voice rose until now it was at screaming pitch.

‘There is no other woman,’ he answered steadily. ‘Like I said, I can no longer see us in a future together. We want different things, Pat. That’s the truth of it.’

In a swift and spiteful move that caught him unawares, she brought her hand across his face, leaving her fingernail marks down the side of his cheek. ‘YOU BASTARD!’ Still spitting obscenities, she stormed down the steps and marched off at breakneck speed towards the village.

Breathing a deep sigh of relief, Leonard felt as though a great burden was lifted from his shoulders. ‘I’m truly sorry it turned out this way,’ he muttered after her; and he really was.

Softly, he repeated her angry words. ‘There’s another woman, isn’t there?’ He smiled. ‘Yes, Patricia, there is another woman. But she isn’t American. In fact, she’s only an arm’s reach from here.’

He knew now, without any doubt, that he was head over heels in love with Vicky. However, just as the relationship between himself and Patricia could never evolve, nor could the one between himself and Vicky – but for very different reasons.