Читать книгу Josephine Cox Sunday Times Bestsellers Collection - Josephine Cox - Страница 46

NORMALLY, ON A Sunday, Bridget would not see hide nor hair of Amy, and if by chance she did pop round to see her boss, it was never before midday. ‘I like my extra hour or two in bed of a Sunday,’ Amy would declare. And if truth be told, Bridget also enjoyed her bit of a lie-in.

But not today, because on this warm, bright Sunday in April, Lucy was coming to see them. ‘What time do you think she’ll arrive?’ Amy was like a cat on hot bricks.

‘Sit down and stop wearing out my floor, if ye please, and turn that blessed wireless off. I’m in no mood to listen to the Goons!’ Bridget groaned. ‘Like I’ve told ye for the umpteenth time, Lucy has a long way to travel. Who knows how long it might take. She’ll be here when she arrives – no sooner, no later.’

In fact it was a quarter to four when Adam drove through the main streets of Liverpool; on this Sunday as on every other, the heart of the city was quiet, with only the odd window-shopper strolling about.

‘All this time and nothing seems to have changed,’ he remarked.

Adam had hardly got a word out of Lucy all the way up from Bedfordshire, and now as he tried hard to draw her into a conversation, he could only imagine the emotions raging through her. His own heart, too, was churning at seeing his familiar old hometown.

Loth to betray her feelings, Lucy was deeply moved at seeing all the familiar haunts. Greedy to keep and hold it forever, she took in everything; the church on the corner, the avenue of shops, the street-lamps, and even the kerbs and pavements worn down over the years by the feet of many, including Barney’s and her own.

‘You’re wrong, Adam,’ she answered quietly. ‘It has changed. There was a time when I thought Liverpool would always belong to me. When I last walked down these streets, they were comforting and friendly, because Barney was still alive. If I was out shopping, he was always at the back of my mind, and I knew that when I got home he would be there, waiting for me – that warm, wonderful man.’

Yes, Liverpool was still here, she thought, and yes, it looked the same – the proud old buildings, the old cobbler’s on the corner, and the tearooms where she and Vicky often took a rest from the shopping.

Even the pub where she had seen Barney and the street-woman on that dreadful day – that was still there. Everything looked the same, but it didn’t feel the same, because now they were all gone – her darling boy Jamie, Barney, Vicky and the others.

It was gone four by the time they booked into the hotel. ‘Do you want to rest before we do anything else?’ Adam was concerned for her. ‘We could give it an hour or so, before we go to Bridget’s. I could order tea and sandwiches, and you could have half an hour or so in your room resting.’

‘Are you tired, Adam?’

‘Not really, no. We had an hour’s stop. That was enough to refresh me.’

‘Good!’ Lucy was adamant. ‘There’ll be time enough for us to rest later. I really do need to see Bridget, and Amy, and …’ She paused. ‘Leave the porter to take up our bags, Adam. I’d like to go to Bridget’s straight away.’

The porter was instructed and they climbed back into the car. ‘Do you know where you’re going?’ Lucy asked. ‘If I remember rightly, Duke Street is situated in the posh area along by the marketplace then second right, turning past the cinema.’

Adam laughed. ‘Unless they’ve moved the streets, I know every twist and turn,’ he assured her. ‘We’ll be there in a few minutes.’

Adam was as good as his word. In no time at all, they were turning into Duke Street; tree-lined and flanked with expensive houses. ‘I’d forgotten how posh this area was,’ he said.

As he drove slowly by, Adam carefully read the names and numbers of each house. Every one was different – some with high gates, others with no gates at all, but each one oozing money and affluence. ‘Bridget wasn’t exaggerating when she wrote and told you she was comfortably off,’ he said.

Lucy smiled at his remark. ‘I always knew Bridget would move up in the world,’ she said proudly. ‘This is all a far cry from the old place.’

Having been back and forth to the window this past hour and more, Bridget saw the car draw up and Adam get out of the driver’s seat. At first she didn’t recognise him, but then as he opened the rear door for Lucy, he looked towards the house and Bridget was sure. ‘It’s them!’ Raising her voice she called Amy, who had been keeping vigil at the window but had now gone to sit by the fireside. ‘AMY! It’s them!’

Excited, Bridget hurried to the front door and flung it open, and there after all these years was her dear friend Lucy, still strong, still defiant against all odds. Even though she leaned on her walking-stick, there was a grim determination in her step as she began her way up the path.

Her hair that once hung thick and loose over her shoulders, was now gathered into a clip, and she appeared slimmer, her shoulders upright and straight. Over the years, Lucy had carried a great burden on those slim shoulders, but she had borne her troubles well, and never once had she leaned on others who would have helped if only she had asked.

Now, as she paused in her steps to look up, her eyes were warm and clear, shining with goodness.

‘Hello, my darling Bridget.’ The voice was Lucy’s. The woman was the girl again, and the girl was the same, with this precious moment frozen in time. They were young again, and the years were as nothing.

Bridget had vowed not to cry or be emotional, but as she ran to meet her old friend, the tears flowed, and when she called Lucy’s name her voice broke and faltered. ‘Oh, Lucy …’ Unable to speak any more, she snatched Lucy to her, and they held each other in a close embrace; it was the most magical moment. One brief moment, born out of tragedy and joy, and a friendship which from a distance had spanned a lifetime.

Adam stood by, a lump in his throat and his heart soaring. These two should never have been parted, he thought, but Lucy had done what she felt she must do, and now thank God, she was back.

With her arm secure round Lucy, Bridget opened her embrace to include him. ‘Oh Adam, you don’t know how wonderful it is to see you both.’

He went to them and they stood a moment, holding each other as though they would never let go, and the pain in Lucy’s heart was eased. This is right, she thought. This is how it should be.

When Amy came running down the steps, Lucy took her into her arms. ‘Amy!’ She kissed her face and smiled. ‘You look taller, and smarter.’ Amy had made a special effort to look good for Lucy. She had on a pretty cream-coloured jacket and brown skirt, her hair was especially bobbed and she had on a touch of lipstick.

‘You look every inch the businesswoman.’ Lucy had been told how Amy ran Bridget’s business almost single-handed. ‘But to me, you’ll always be shy little Amy.’

Amy laughed. ‘Not so shy now,’ she said. ‘And not so little, either. I’ve put on a few pounds since you last saw me.’

‘Come inside.’ Bridget led them onwards, Amy and Adam talking softly behind, with herself and Lucy in front. ‘We’re like two old soldiers,’ Bridget joked tearfully. ‘Back from the wars, licking our wounds and ready for the next battle.’

Lucy smiled at that. All my battles are done, she mused. But then she thought of Edward Trent, and her heart fell.

Inside the house, while Amy went to the kitchen, Bridget took Adam and Lucy on a tour; first stop was her large office overlooking the garden. ‘This is the room where I enjoy a drop o’ the good stuff, put me feet up and think o’ the old days,’ she confided. ‘Back there I had a humble little place with a backyard and men who visited discreetly for pleasure, and now I have a house with beautiful gardens and a posh office, and I’m still in the same business of providing lovely girls for lonely men, only this time it’s more business than pleasure.’ She shrugged philosophically then confided, ‘And would you believe, I’m making ten times the money.’

‘I can see that.’ Lucy was taken from room to room, in and out of five large bedrooms, all furnished in the latest style; two enormous bathrooms shaped in marble and glass, and then down the wide staircase into a drawing room with French doors leading out to a magnificent garden.

‘You have a beautiful house, Bridget.’ Lucy fell thankfully into the wide armchair; Adam sat close and when Amy brought in the tray of sandwiches and tea, the four of them reminisced about the past. ‘Will you ever come back here to live?’ Amy asked hopefully, and Lucy told her she would not; that though she had fond memories, the bad ones were still too real.

‘Besides,’ she said, ‘I’m too old in the tooth to be moving house and starting over.’

Adam told them he felt the same. ‘Liverpool will always be where my roots are,’ he confessed, ‘but my home is in the south …’ no one missed the adoring glance he shot in Lucy’s direction, ‘… with Lucy and her daughter.’

‘And how is your daughter, Mary?’ Bridget enquired of Lucy. ‘Sure, I thought you were bringing her with you, and this young man of hers – Ben, isn’t it?’

‘They’ll be along shortly,’ Lucy promised. ‘Mary called on us this morning before we set off and said how Ben’s sheep had all started lambing. The pair of them were up all night, and the lambs were still coming when we left.’

‘And do they know where to find us?’

Adam intervened. ‘I copied out the directions you sent to Lucy,’ he said. ‘I’m sure they’ll find you, no trouble.’

‘Good!’ Like Amy, Bridget was longing to see Lucy’s daughter. ‘Oh, I can’t wait to meet her,’ she told Lucy. ‘When you took her from here, she was just a tiddler, so she was.’

There was something else Bridget wanted to know, but she wasn’t quite sure how to broach it.

Anticipating the question, Lucy enlightened her. ‘We didn’t go to the churchyard,’ she said quietly. ‘If that’s what you’re wondering?’

Bridget nodded. ‘You read my mind, pet. I was just after asking if you might have called there first.’

When emotion threatened to creep up on her, Lucy merely shook her head. The memories were vivid as always: after little Jamie’s second birthday party on that joyous November night, Trent had appeared at her cottage, wanting her back, beseeching her to leave Liverpool with him. Then, when he realised that her love had turned to hate, he had snatched her child and disappeared into the night.

Mortally afraid for little Jamie, Lucy had pursued him, but he was like a madman fleeing through the pitch-dark fields. Stumbling and calling, she had gone after him, but he was always a distance away. And then he was crossing the river, carrying the child over the slippery boulders that straddled the water above the weir, now in full flood. Screaming hysterically, Lucy had followed him. And it was while grappling with him that Edward Trent began to lose his footing in the raging torrent.

It all happened so quickly. She pleaded with him to give her the child, but he was so crazed and evil there was no reasoning with him. Then Barney came out of the darkness and shouted for her to go back, to leave it to him, but instead, fearful for little Jamie, she followed her instincts and reached out for her baby. Then suddenly it all went wrong. In one frantic, desperate moment, she and Trent lost their footing, and their son was gone. And as the water carried him away, she prayed, like she had never prayed in her life before or since.

Caring nothing for his own life, Barney had gone after the child but it was all too late, and since that terrible moment when he had carried Jamie’s lifeless body to her, she had blamed herself. If only she had listened to Barney when he told her to get back. If only she had not pursued Edward Trent, he might have returned her child safely. If only he had not made for the river … if only. If only. Dear God, would the heartache never end? And now here she was, where it all happened, and for her own peace of mind, she must visit little Jamie’s last resting-place.

The prospect was unbearable to Lucy, and yet she desperately needed to stand where he lay, to speak with him and in her heart and mind to hold his hand and reassure him that she had not forgotten, that she still loved and remembered him and would do so until the day she followed.

So often she had mentally prepared herself for this day, when she would be with him, yet each time she had resisted. Because she knew how hard it would be, how devastated she would feel. But it was ever in her mind and heart. These past twenty years and more she had thought of little else.

‘So, will ye go?’ Soft and encouraging, Bridget’s voice entered her consciousness.

Lucy nodded. ‘You know I will.’ Of that there was no question.

‘Not today though, eh, Lucy?’ Adam could see how tired she was. He above all others knew what an emotionally draining experience it would be when Lucy finally returned to her baby’s resting-place. ‘I think we should go back to the hotel and take it easy for the rest of the evening.’

As always, his only thought was for Lucy. ‘I’ll take you to the churchyard first thing in the morning, when you’ve had a good night’s sleep. What do you say, Lucy? It’s been a long journey. You need to take it easy now.’

Lucy took a while to answer. To the others, she appeared calm and controlled, while inside, her heart and mind were in turmoil. How could she go there? How could she not? Yet she must. She must! Oh, but where in the name of God would she find the strength?

Suddenly her heart was open and her mind at peace. From Barney, she realised; that’s where she would find the strength.

‘You’re right, Adam.’ She smiled on him and his heart warmed. ‘It might be best to leave it until morning.’

Bridget had a suggestion. ‘I wouldn’t mind betting ye haven’t had a good meal all day, am I right?’

Up to now, Lucy had not felt hungry, but suddenly she was famished. ‘Why don’t we all have dinner at the hotel?’ she suggested, perking up.

‘Well, I never!’ Bridget cried excitedly. ‘You took the very words out of my mouth. It’ll be my treat, so it will, and no arguments.’

Neither Adam nor Amy needed much persuasion and so it was arranged. ‘You take yerselves off, and me and Amy will be there soonever we’ve painted our faces and put on our glad rags.’

At seven-thirty they gathered in the hotel bar. Having rested awhile, Lucy was now bathed and changed. She had on a black straight-skirted dress with blue collar and cuffs, and her hair was swept back into a loop and fastened with a daisy-chain pin. ‘You look lovely!’ Even if she was dressed in sacks, Adam would still think the same. In his eyes, Lucy was everything perfect.

All the same, Lucy was flattered. ‘You don’t look so bad yourself.’ In his dark suit and pale green shirt, he made a handsome figure.

Amy and Bridget arrived on time; Amy looking young and fresh in a brown two-piece, Bridget painted to the eyeballs with dark rouge, crimson lipstick, and the smartest bright green two-piece. ‘Don’t tell me,’ she laughed. ‘I look like a leprechaun.’ She cast a scathing glance at Amy. ‘Sure, haven’t I already been told that?’ Doing a twirl she fished for compliments, and got them a-plenty.

Spending a few minutes in the bar for a premeal drink, they were delighted when Mary and Ben came through the door. ‘What a lovely surprise! You’re just in time for dinner.’ Lucy gave them each a hug before proudly presenting them to Amy and Bridget.

‘Gawd love us!’ Bridget wrapped herself round Mary and squeezed her so hard, Lucy warned her she’d have her eyeballs out. ‘Look at her … she’s all grown up, so she is!’ There was no stopping Bridget once she started. ‘Oh, and isn’t she like her daddy! Oh Lucy, I can’t believe it.’

Becoming emotional, she was almost in tears, until Lucy told her firmly, ‘Behave yourself, and let the young ’uns get ready for dinner.’

An hour later, they all went through to the dining room.

The evening was perfect, the food was done to a treat, and the conversation at different times both sparkling and nostalgic; with Bridget unable to take her eyes off Mary, and Mary content to see her mother’s eyes shining with pleasure at being with her old friends.

Later, when they had a few minutes alone, she mentioned to Ben that tomorrow would be a difficult day for Lucy. ‘God only knows how she’ll cope when she goes to the churchyard and sees little Jamie’s grave. It’s bound to bring it all back with a vengeance.’

Ben had few doubts. ‘Your mother will cope like she always does,’ he assured her. ‘She’s the strongest, most determined woman I’ve ever met.’ Looking down at Lucy’s daughter, he observed the fine straight features and honest clear eyes, and his voice softened. ‘And you, my lovely, are a chip off the old block!’

The next day started badly for Lucy. She had not slept well. She saw the dawn light the skies and she heard the first birdsong, and for a time, she sat gazing out the window, her mind shot with all manner of mayhem.

This morning she would see the little cottage given to her by Leonard Maitland, her employer up at The Manse in the village of Comberton by Weir. This was the cottage where she and Barney had lived for a while before moving down to Salford, the cottage where Mary had been conceived, in love, in anguish. The same cottage where she had spent several idyllic months with her young son, enjoying the countryside and the company of their friends, the Davidsons. The cottage where she had shed so many tears, mourning the loss of his bright presence. Bittersweet memories that would never leave her.

Oh, why ever had she come here to this place which she had deliberately shut out of her life for so long? How would she cope? How could she force herself to go through with it all? Had she made a terrible mistake?

All the yearning in the world could never bring back what she craved; her firstborn son, her youth, Barney’s love – albeit a love that could never be as powerful and absorbing as hers was for him. It was all gone now. Time had rolled it away, out of sight but not out of mind. And some day, time would roll her away too, and Adam, and everything else she cherished.

It was a sobering thought, which made her even more appreciative and protective of the family she still had – Mary and Adam, and now Ben – and she still had her friends – friends she did not deserve, for hadn’t she deliberately distanced herself from them all this time?

After washing and dressing, and feeling more settled in her mind, Lucy went downstairs, where Adam was already waiting. ‘Sleep well, did you?’ His wide smile was all-enveloping.

‘Not too badly,’ she lied. ‘What I need more than anything right now, is a refreshing cup of tea and a plate of scrambled eggs on toast. That should set me up for the day.’

‘Then you shall have it.’ Holding out his arm he escorted her to the dining room, where they were led to a small round table by the window.

In no time at all, Lucy had her eggs and a handsome pot of tea, with the daintiest cup and saucer, and a jug of milk filled right to the top. ‘Just what the doctor ordered,’ she said, and Adam agreed, while eagerly tucking into a full and generous breakfast.

‘Talking about doctors,’ he remarked, ‘when do you intend seeing old Doctor Lucas?’

Lucy had been thinking about that. ‘Later,’ she said. ‘First of all, I’d like to show Mary the cottage where she was born, and the fields where her daddy and the rest of us broke our backs to bring in the harvest, but oh, Adam, they were such wonderful times, weren’t they?’

‘They certainly were.’ His eyes dimmed with emotion. The memories were powerful, painful in their beauty. Reaching out, he laid his hand over hers. ‘Wonderful times, yes,’ he agreed. ‘Sadly, long gone.’

He smiled encouragingly. ‘But we’re still here, you and me, and Mary, and soon, God willing, once she and Ben are wed, you might be a grandmother, and how would you like that, eh?’

Lucy smiled wistfully. ‘Grandma Lucy. Who would ever have thought it, eh? That young wild creature running barefoot across the fields … a grandmother.’

Just then Mary and Ben showed at the door. Catching Mary’s attention, Lucy gave a wave and the two of them came across.

‘I slept like a log,’ Mary said. ‘I think the long drive must have tired me.’

Ben told her jokingly how he was the one who should be tired, because he had done all the driving.

The waiter came across and they ordered bacon and eggs for Ben, and toast for Mary.

Through breakfast they discussed plans for the day, and while Adam explained how Lucy wanted to take them to see the cottage and the fields, Lucy’s courage began to falter; until Adam sensed her dilemma and winked at her in his usual cheeky manner.

The intimate gesture seemed to harden Lucy’s determination. ‘We’ll go out to the cottage,’ she declared. ‘Then we’ll visit the churchyard, and after that it’s on to see Doctor Lucas.’

Lucy and Adam finished their breakfast and left Ben and Mary to finish theirs. ‘We’ll see you in the foyer in half an hour,’ Lucy said. With that she took her leave, and Adam went with her up the staircase. When they reached Lucy’s room, he excused himself. ‘I’ll see you downstairs in half an hour then.’

With that he hurried away, thinking how he would have preferred to be going into the room with her. But maybe that was for another day, when he had persuaded her into being his wife.

Some short time later, the four of them climbed into Ben’s car; they drove away from the city of Liverpool and on, towards the outskirts and the open fields of Comberton. Lucy was apprehensive, but knew that she must not shirk from doing what she came here to do. Just once, that was all, and afterwards she would never visit the old places again.

Sitting in the back of the car with Adam beside her and her daughter and Ben in front, she felt strangely isolated, and so incredibly lonely, it was almost unbearable. Then Adam reached out and, tucking her hand into his, he shifted closer to her. His nearness, the touch of his hand and the way he looked at her, as if to say, ‘You’re not alone, we’re all here with you,’ gave Lucy a warm feeling.

In all her life, she had learned never to lean on anyone. But now here she was, leaning on this dear man. And somehow it felt so natural.

Following Lucy and Adam’s directions, Ben headed the car away from the main road. As they trailed the curve of the lanes, she was taken back to those far-off days when she worked in those same fields with Barney and his family.

‘In here, Ben.’ Excitement trembled her voice. ‘Pull in here.’ On the way over, Lucy had known every twist and turn, and now as they neared the cottage, her heart lurched as she recognised the meandering avenue of oak trees, and the orchard where little Jamie had so often played.

When the car was stationary, she climbed out; for a moment she stood by the gate, her hungry gaze taking it all in. Instinctively now, she went through the gate and following the very same path she had so often followed before, she climbed to the peak of the hill, her every step a trial.

Behind her, Mary prepared to get out of the car. ‘Not yet.’ Adam felt for Lucy and he knew she would need to be alone. ‘Let’s give your mother a few minutes, eh?’

Mary nodded, and so they stayed. They watched the small figure climbing and saw how her steps occasionally faltered.

At the top of the rise, Lucy stood tall and proud, her face turned towards the cottage and her gaze marking the spot for all time.

In her mind’s eye she saw herself outside the cottage, laughing and playing with Jamie, swinging on the branch of the tree, and gathering fruit from the orchard. She saw Barney and Vicky, sitting on the swing-seat that Barney had created out of old rope and fallen trees, and then there was the party; the barn was still there, its roof sagging and the door hanging lopsided on its hinges. She could even hear the music and the dancing.

It was all there, caught in time forever. And she was content to have been a part of it all.

‘It’s still here, Barney,’ she whispered. ‘This wonderful place, that gave us all such happy times.’ Rolling down her face and wetting her lips, the tears burned her skin. ‘I came back, Barney,’ she murmured. ‘I came back.’ Suddenly she was sobbing, unable to speak for the emotion raking her soul. With her hands over her face, she took the moment to feel his presence and when she looked up again, she was calmer. ‘I came back to see if it all really happened,’ she whispered, ‘but I can never come back again, Barney. It’s too much … too painful. I’ll take it with me, but I know now, it’s time to say goodbye.’

She gave a small, choking sob. ‘I’ll always love you, Barney, you know that, don’t you?’

After a restful interlude, she looked up to find the others beside her. ‘It’s beautiful here.’ Sliding her hand into Lucy’s Mary admitted, ‘The descriptions you gave were so lovely, I thought you might have exaggerated. But you didn’t, because it’s everything you said.’ In her distant memory she felt a part of it, too, yet not in any detail. It was more a deep-down feeling of belonging.

And so they stayed awhile. Drenching her mind with images she had never forgotten, Lucy told them stories of how it was. Adam also had a few comical tales to tell.

‘I remember when me and Barney were painting the outside walls of the big barn. We ended up with more paint on us than on the walls … and another time he hosed out the pig-pen and didn’t see me in the corner. Talk about a drowned rat!’ Everyone roared, and then he added, ‘It’s a wonder I didn’t go down with pneumonia!’

So many memories, alive as though they had happened only yesterday. ‘Another time, he nearly killed me when he felled a big old tree that was rotting from the roots up. If Vicky hadn’t called out, I’d have been flattened like a pancake on the ground.’

They talked and smiled and laughed out loud, and Lucy felt the anguish draining away. People often said that anticipating an event could sometimes be worse than the doing, and so far it seemed they were right, she thought. Instead of pain, the visit had brought a measure of joy.

After a while they walked on down to the river.

On the night they lost little Jamie, the river had been a raging torrent, but now it was unusually quiet, with the shimmering waters gently rolling over the boulders before leaping and dancing on their way down to the valley below.

In her mind, Lucy relived that awful night for the ten-thousandth time, right up to the sight of Barney walking towards her through the water, the tiny lifeless body in his arms and his desolate face preparing her for the worst. Dear God Almighty, how had she lived with it since? How could she go on living with it?

‘Come away, my dear.’ Lucy was startled by the touch of Adam’s fingers as they closed gently round her arm. ‘You’ve lingered enough,’ he told her. ‘Please, Lucy … come away now.’

Turning away from the waters, Lucy assured him she was fine, though at that moment, she wished she could be anywhere but here, in this particular place. It was not over yet, she thought. The next stage of her journey would be the worst.

The flowers that Bridget had taken to Jamie on Saturday morning were still fresh and colourful. Even from a distance, the yellow and white spring blooms brightened the little boy’s grave.

As she walked through the churchyard, Lucy kept a steely determination not to break down.

In truth, it was Mary who broke down.

Having learned only a year or so ago about her baby brother, she was very emotional. ‘You did wrong,’ she said, rounding on Lucy, her voice shaking. ‘You should have told me long ago. I had a right to know,’ she sobbed. Though this trip had been an ordeal for her mother, it had proven difficult for her, too.

Before she could run away, Lucy took hold of her. ‘I’m sorry, sweetheart,’ she whispered. ‘You’re right, I should have told you about him – our little Jamie. But it was so hard. I couldn’t bring myself to speak of it. I thought if I shut it all out it wouldn’t hurt, but it did, and now you’re hurting, and I won’t forgive myself for that.’

For what seemed an age, Lucy held her daughter, as the scent of narcissi rose in the air and surrounded them like a prayer. She let her cry and cried with her, and afterwards, Ben came and took Mary away, while Lucy stayed with Jamie for a while longer. ‘I’ll always love you,’ she murmured. ‘As long as I live, I will never forget you. I had to come back, to see you one last time.’ Wiping away a solitary tear, she then stroked her fingers tenderly over the name on the granite stone. ‘My darling little boy, thank you for the joy you brought me.’

After a while she walked away; leaving the car and the others far behind she went to the edge of the churchyard, where she leaned on the fence and let her mind wander over the fields, as though drawing every memory to her, so that when she left this place it would come with her.

She didn’t hear his footsteps as he came to stand beside her, nor at first did she realise he was there, until he spoke softly. ‘I can’t help you, Lucy, my darling. I want to help you … but I don’t know how.’

His words touched her deeply. Turning to him, she smiled with all her heart. ‘You have helped me, Adam,’ she said. ‘All these years you’ve been there for me.’

He was leaning on the fence, with his hands clasped before him, when suddenly she reached out and slid her hand into his. ‘You’re a remarkable man, Adam; kind and caring, always backing me up, always there for me.’ She paused, searching for the right words, wanting to convey her feelings. ‘The truth is, you mean far more to me than you could ever know.’

When it seemed he might speak, she put her finger over his lips. ‘No, Adam, I need to tell you how I feel.’ She took a deep breath. ‘Coming here, seeing everything again, things I tried so hard to shut out for so long, has made me realise what a fortunate woman I’ve been, and still am. There have been two men in my life – Barney and you. Both good, unselfish men.’

After faltering a moment, she regained her composure. ‘You know I could never love you in the same way I loved Barney, but lately I’ve come to realise just how much I do love you.’ Her eyes told him all he needed to hear. ‘Dear Adam, I couldn’t bear it if I lost you.’

‘You’ll never lose me,’ he promised. ‘Because wherever you are, that’s where I’ll be.’ He saw the tears shining in her eyes and he felt the honesty of her words, and he was the happiest man on God’s earth. He ached for her to be his wife; he needed to know that she loved him that much. But his instincts told him that this was not the time nor the place. And so he kept his silence, slid a protective arm round her shoulders, and together they made their way back to the car.

Mary and Ben saw them coming. ‘Look at the pair of them, like two sweethearts,’ Ben remarked. ‘Who knows? We might be having a double wedding, eh?’

Calmer now, Mary was thrilled to see how easy they were, talking and smiling and so comfortable in each other’s company. ‘Coming here must have made them realise how quickly time flies away and that we must take whatever chances life brings us. Those two were always meant for each other. At one time when I was small, I even thought Adam was my father. He was always around, always looking out for us.’

She paused. ‘But there was always Barney. Mother made sure I knew my father, she spoke of him all the time, until I could see him clearly in my mind’s eye; I felt as though I knew him as well as she did. There was never any other man for her. But Adam is special. He knew Barney like a brother. Then afterwards, when Mother was left alone, Adam was there; he has grown old with her, and with every year his love for her has become stronger. I know, because I saw it, every day of my life.’

Ben was intrigued. ‘And now they’re together here, putting the past to rest.’

Their story was amazing, he thought. And now, he too was a part of it, and proud to be so.