Читать книгу Josephine Cox Sunday Times Bestsellers Collection - Josephine Cox - Страница 53

IT WAS 8.15 A.M., the morning of 4 January 1955.

The streets of Liverpool were still fairly quiet, some shops were not yet open and only the keenest of shoppers had braved the bitter cold, to catch the early sales bargains.

Warm and cosy inside the offices of Bridget’s empire, Amy and Bridget had been up since the early hours. On a day when the offices were still closed and there was no one to interrupt them, this was the perfect time for the two women to go through the books and prepare them for the accountant.

Having already been ensconced in the office for almost two hours, Bridget was ready for refreshment. Stretching and groaning, she leaned away from the desk. ‘I think we’ll down tools for a while, Amy me darling,’ she said now. ‘It’s been a long two hours, and the old bones are threatening to seize up.’

Pushing the ledger away, she gave Amy one of her winning smiles. ‘I’m ready for a drink, so I am.’

‘I couldn’t agree more.’ Getting out of her chair, Amy began her way across the room. ‘Fancy a nice cup of tea?’

Bridget was horrified. ‘Have ye lost your mind? It’s not tea or coffee I’m needing. It’s a drop o’ the good stuff I’m after. It’s in the top drawer of the filing cabinet, same as always. An’ don’t be sparing with it neither.’

When it came, Bridget took a tiny sip, then another longer one. ‘Ah sure, there’s nothing like a wee dram to warm the cockles,’ she said, smacking her lips. ‘Unless it’s a randy man with a trim body and no clothes on.’

Grinning like the Cheshire Cat, she went on to tell the bemused Amy, ‘Did I ever tell you about the time me and Oliver found a quiet spot in the countryside? Well now, he got to feeling frisky, so we climbed into the back of his car … and ye know there’s not much room there at all.’

Amy couldn’t help but chuckle. ‘Honestly, when will you ever grow up? Don’t you think you’re too old to be rolling about in the back of a car?’

‘You’re right, and I won’t be doing it again, I can promise ye that! Only the dear Lord knows how I ached from top to bottom for weeks after. But y’see, poor Oliver was so frustrated. He tried Gawd knows how many times to get his leg over, and well – you’ve never seen such a carry-on in all yer life! First off, he got his foot caught between the front seats, then he couldn’t get it out …’

She could hardly talk for laughing. ‘When I say that, I’m not just referring to his foot, though that was the divil of a problem, so it was. No, I mean he couldn’t get his little pecker out neither, whichever way he turned.’

Amy tutted. ‘It’s a wonder you weren’t arrested.’

‘Ah, but that’s not all.’ Taking another healthy measure of her good Irish whiskey, Bridget got a fit of the giggles. ‘When we realised it was no use, we got out of the car and laid on the grass. Within minutes we were fleeing for our lives, him with his trousers round his ankles, and me with me drawers in me hand.’

Amy could hardly contain her curiosity. ‘What happened? Did the police come along and find you?’

‘Oh no! It weren’t the police. We were just getting down to business, if ye know what I mean, when we must have disturbed a nest of wasps. Sure I never ran so fast in all me life, and as for poor Oliver, he got bit twice on his dangly bits. Jaysus! They came after him like he was their next meal. And him screaming and shouting like a banshee. Never mind that I was falling behind and likely to be got any minute. As far as that bleddy coward was concerned, I could get stung to Hell and back!’

Amy almost fell off the chair laughing. ‘I always knew you were mad as a hatter,’ she roared. ‘Whatever will you get up to next, I wonder?’

‘Well, I can tell ye one thing. Next time he feels amorous, he can bugger off.’

‘So, does that mean you’ve finished with him?’

‘Oh no! Sure, I never said that. But it’s the last time he manhandles me in the back seat of a car. And as for pulling up in the hedgerow and rollicking in the long grass, he can forget it.’

She took another helping of her drink. ‘He can have his wicked way any time he wants, but I told him, I did. “I’m a lady with taste,” I said. “From now on, it’s a bed covered in silk sheets and a feather pillow under me, or it’s nothing at all”.’

‘And what did he say?’ Amy was enthralled.

‘He liked the idea. Especially when he couldn’t sit down for a week, seeing as his precious little bits were all full o’ bumps and lumps.’

There was a flurry of laughter and more naughty talk, before the conversation ended and the two of them returned to their work.

Shortly after that, they had completed the accounts and having filed away the paperwork, began to pack up for the day.

‘Isn’t it tonight when Vicky arrives?’ Amy recalled Bridget telling her as much earlier on.

Bridget nodded. ‘Yes. She disembarked at Southampton last night, and will be in Salford by tea-time tonight.’ With the effects of drink beginning to wear off, her face reflected the seriousness of Lucy’s situation. ‘It’ll be a strange meeting, that’s for sure,’ she remarked thoughtfully. ‘There’s been a lot of water under the bridge since those two last met. Oh aye, they’ll have a lot to talk about, so they will.’

‘Do you think Vicky will be resentful?’

‘In what way?’

‘Because Lucy never told her about Barney?’

‘Oh sure, there’s bound to be resentment.’ Of that Bridget had no doubt. ‘According to what Lucy wrote me, on the night she discovered the letter to Leonard, Vicky walked out on him and she’s never been back since. Cleared off for two whole months, that’s what I’ve heard. But then she got in touch with Lucy, and today is the day they finally meet after all these years.’

She shuddered. ‘I don’t mind telling ye, it’s thankful I am that it isn’t me who has to explain why I didn’t get in touch with Vicky long before now.’

Amy was torn two ways. ‘Do you really think Lucy should have broken her word to Barney?’

Thinking deeply, Bridget took a moment to answer. ‘For what it’s worth, I believe Lucy did what she thought was right, for Barney’s sake, and for the sake of the family. I mean, look now at the heartache and trouble that’s been caused by the telling after all these years. Vicky’s life seemingly in tatters, and Lucy riddled with guilt at having sent the letter. It’s a tragedy, isn’t it?’

Amy agreed wholeheartedly. ‘I for one wouldn’t want to be in Lucy’s shoes when she meets up with Vicky.’

Bridget was momentarily preoccupied in thinking of Barney’s children. ‘Isn’t it strange how Vicky never even mentioned the children when she contacted Lucy? She wrote of how she and Leonard had split up, but there wasn’t one word on the three children.’

Amy’s heart went out to Thomas, Ronnie and Susie. ‘I know what it’s like to see your family torn apart,’ she said. ‘It’s a terrible thing – and those three had the added agony of being sent away believing their father was a drunk and a womaniser, a bully who thought nothing of hurting them every which way he could. And now, they discover that he was nothing of the sort, and that he loved them all along.’

‘Whatever did they think when they learned how desperately ill he was?’ Bridget mused. ‘And that what he did, he did for the love of each and every one of them. He saved them from the pain and anguish of seeing him deteriorate with every passing day. Moreover, he secured them a decent future. If that isn’t love and courage of a very special kind, I’m sure I don’t know what is.’

They each reflected on that, and after a time they shut up shop and went their separate ways. ‘And don’t get up to any hanky-panky!’ Amy quipped as she went.

‘Away with ye,’ Bridget replied haughtily. ‘Why would I ever want to be doing that? Sure, I’m a woman in the sunset of me life, so I am.’

Amy laughed. ‘Sunset nothing! You might have been around a long time, but you’ve not lost the come-on twinkle in the eye yet. Sixty going on sixteen, that’s you.’

Bridget prided herself on keeping active and fit. ‘You know what the secret is, don’t you?’ she said cagily.

‘No, what’s that?’

‘When the hair goes grey and your face is so dry and wrinkled it resembles the sole of your shoe, you dip your hair in dye, pile on the make-up and go out and get your man. If ye think old and done with, you’ll be old and done with. If ye think young and randy, you can hold off the years for as long as you like, and bugger them as thinks you’re mutton dressed as lamb.’

As she got into the car she had another piece of advice for Amy. ‘There’s something else ye should know.’

‘Oh yes, and what’s that?’

‘If you turn up late in the morning, you’ll be sacked.’

With that daunting piece of news, she drove away, leaving Amy shaking her head. ‘You should be locked up,’ she muttered with a smile. ‘A woman your age should be at home with her feet up and a shawl over her legs, but oh no, not our Bridget, she’s got more important things to do. You defy old age, you scheme and fight and lie through your teeth to get what you want, and you show no mercy to anyone who tries to muscle in on your territory. The truth is, if you weren’t running a legitimate business, you’d make a first-class villain.’

As she walked away, Amy thought to herself, I’ve a good mind to turn up late, just to see if you really would sack me. You’re a bully and a slave-driver, and you make me tired, just watching you run around.

Bridget was like no one she had ever known. But, warts and all, she would not have her any other way.

At that moment some short distance down the street, Bridget was engaged in a heated exchange with the milkman. Having pulled up in front of her at the junction, his horse had taken the opportunity to dump a load of manure all over the road in front of her; in the process splashing the bonnet of her Hillman Minx. ‘You filthy heathen!’ Shaking her fist at the man, she told him in no uncertain terms, ‘Look what your damned horse has done to me car. You should be put away, you and the horse along with ye!’

When the milkman took not the slightest notice, she roared off, making a most unladylike gesture as she went.

‘Time was when old women stayed at home and waited on their menfolk!’ shouted the milkman. ‘But I don’t imagine there’s a fella this side of Australia that would take on a harridan like you!’

After making another rude gesture, Bridget wisely put a fair distance between herself and the milkman. She didn’t want to cause too many upsets, especially with a policeman strolling nearby, and even more especially when she had never applied for a driving licence, nor ever had one granted.

Coming into the quieter part of town, her thoughts soon turned to Lucy, and the ordeal she was about to face. ‘God bless you, Lucy girl,’ she murmured. ‘I hope it all goes well with you and Vicky.’ Like Amy, she did not envy Lucy the task ahead of her.

Adam had been awake since the early hours.

Concerned about the arrival this evening of the woman he still looked on as Barney’s wife, he decided to go across to Knudsden House and make sure Lucy was all right.

From the front window, Lucy saw him coming. She too had been awake since the early hours. ‘Only a few hours to go,’ she told him as he walked in the door. ‘To tell you the truth, Adam, in my entire life I’ve never been so nervous.’

Occasionally stopping to glance at the mantel-clock, she paced up and down, back and forth, now pausing at the window and looking out on the bitter-cold January morning. ‘I’m not sure if I’ve done the right thing. What if I’ve ruined all their lives?’

‘You can’t turn back the clock now, Lucy my dear, so don’t torment yourself.’ Adam had the same worries, but he did not want to convey that to Lucy. Instead he was doing his best to encourage her, because right now she was beginning to make herself ill.

‘I can’t help worrying,’ Lucy argued. ‘I’ve already caused a split between Vicky and Leonard. She said in her letter that I shouldn’t blame myself, but if I’m not to blame, who is? After all, it was me who put the cat among the pigeons so to speak.’

‘Look, Lucy, what you did was certainly not done out of malice. It was done out of concern: you thought they had a right to know. Well, I agree with that and so, it seems, does Vicky.’

Lucy was still not convinced. ‘It might have been better though, if I had left well alone.’

‘Ah, but in the end, my dear, the truth has a way of sneaking out. Who’s to say Vicky or her children would never return home at some time in the future, even for a visit. They would find out then, wouldn’t they? There can’t be a single person in Liverpool who hasn’t learned the sad story of Barney Davidson, and they would tell it to anyone, neighbour or stranger. No, Lucy, you did right. What happened between Vicky and Leonard is something aside, which only the two of them can sort out.’

Eager for peace of mind, Lucy nodded. ‘Maybe you’re right,’ she conceded hesitantly. ‘Maybe it would have come out sooner or later.’

‘Are you ready to face her tonight?’

Lucy nodded. ‘Ready as I’ll ever be, I suppose.’

Early that evening, the car was out and as he arrived Lucy was waiting at the door, looking smart and sophisticated in her high-necked cream-coloured jumper and skirt, with a coffee-coloured winter coat and dark shoes. Her greying hair was swept up in a loop of straying curls that framed her face, and she carried her best silver-topped stick; though she half-hid it in the folds of her coat. Even now she had a reluctance to show her slight handicap.

‘You look lovely as ever,’ Adam commented as he held open the door for her to climb into the back. Whenever he saw her, morning, noon or night, it was always the same; his old heart would leap to his throat and he had to stop himself from taking her in his arms.

As they travelled through the country roads towards Bedford town and the railway station, Lucy wondered aloud, ‘What will she look like, do you think?’

Adam glanced at her in the mirror. ‘I’m sure I don’t know,’ he answered. ‘She was lovely as a young woman, but not everybody stays as handsome as you.’

Lucy laughed. ‘You old flatterer,’ she said. ‘Truly though, Adam, do you think we’ll recognise her?’

‘Don’t know. Can’t say.’

‘Do you think she’ll recognise me?’

‘I think so. Your hair’s a little greyer, you’re slower of foot, and we all know you’re not the young thing you once were, but then none of us is – Vicky included.’

Lucy had to smile. ‘Well, thank you. Is that supposed to make me feel better?’

Adam made no apology. ‘All that aside,’ he said, ‘you’re still so vibrant and your features haven’t changed all that much. You have the same slim figure and those wonderful, smiling eyes. I think she would have to be looking in the opposite direction not to recognise the Lucy Baker we all know and love.’

For the remainder of the journey, Lucy fell silent, with Adam frequently glancing in his rear-view mirror to make sure she was all right.

When at last they arrived at the station, he pulled up as near to the entrance as he could. ‘Do you want me to come with you?’

Lucy thanked him. ‘Yes, I’d like that, Adam. But try if you can to keep a discreet distance when the train arrives. I don’t want her to think we’re there in force.’

Adam understood. ‘Trust me,’ he said. ‘You won’t even know I’m around. But if you want me, I’ll be only a heartbeat away.’

Lucy gave him a friendly peck on the cheek. ‘What would I do without you, eh?’ Adam was always there when she needed someone to share her fears and dreams. More and more she had come to rely on him. And today was particularly unnerving, for she was about to meet Vicky again for the first time in many years; Vicky, the beautiful person whom Barney adored above all others, and who had been cruelly robbed of her chance to say goodbye to him. Vicky, who had welcomed young Lucy and her little Jamie into the very heart of her family, and shown them both nothing but kindness.

Adam was still pondering on her remark. ‘What would you do without me, eh?’ he mused aloud. ‘Let me think now.’ Feigning a frown, he told her, ‘You’d have to find a careful new driver for a start. Then there’d be no one to fetch and carry for you, or collect your orders from the shops when you don’t feel like being in a crowd. You’d have no one to boss about or moan and grumble at, and when you feel lonely, there’ll be no one there to hold your hand.’

Lucy laughed. ‘I’ve always got Mary.’

‘Ah, but it’s not the same. Think about it,’ he urged. ‘Here you have a big handsome man ready to answer your every call; a man who’s besotted with you, ready to marry you at the drop of a hat, and on top of all that, he can make the best hot cocoa that’s ever passed your lovely lips.’

‘You’re incorrigible,’ Lucy chided.

‘But you love me, don’t you?’

‘ ’Course I do.’

‘But not enough to marry me?’

‘Behave yourself. Go and park the car, and I’ll get the platform tickets.’

‘Only if you say you’ll think about letting me put a ring on your finger.’

‘Go on with you!’ Dismissing him with a wave of her hand, she walked away, the merest of smiles curving her mouth at the corners. She had long thought he would make a wonderful husband, though it would never do to tell him that.

One day he’ll wear me down, she thought. One fine day, he’ll ask me and I just might say yes.

But she couldn’t see that day in sight for a very long time. Maybe never.

Waiting for Vicky’s train to arrive from London was nerve-racking. Lucy had lost count of the number of times she had walked the entire length of the platform, looking this way, looking that way, shivering in the bitter cold and beginning to despair. ‘Will the blessed train ever arrive?’ she asked Adam. ‘Maybe Vicky’s changed her mind. Maybe she’s decided not to come after all.’

Adam was more concerned about Lucy. ‘Don’t panic. The train isn’t even due to arrive for another half hour,’ he reminded her. ‘Look! I want you to come along to the café and get a hot drink down you. It’s perishing cold out here.’

‘But what if we miss the train arriving? If we’re not here waiting for her, she won’t know what to do.’

‘Listen to yourself,’ he advised. ‘We won’t miss the train arriving, and even if we did, she’s a grown woman, intelligent enough to get a taxi. She has your telephone number and address. So come on now, Lucy.’ He gently cupped the palm of his hand beneath her elbow. ‘Ten minutes, that’s all, to get you warmed up and comfortable. I don’t want you catching pneumonia.’

‘Stop fussing, Adam!’ Shaking him away, Lucy was adamant. ‘I’m perfectly all right. You go if you like, but I’m not moving.’

Adam knew from old that once her mind was made up, there’d be no shifting her. ‘I only wish Mary was here,’ he grumbled. ‘She’d make you go inside, and no mistake.’

Lucy shook her head. ‘I wouldn’t listen to Mary, any more than I’m listening to you,’ she replied haughtily. ‘I’m here to meet an old friend who’s travelled many miles, all the way from America. I will not have her arriving in a strange place, all alone and me not there to greet her.’

All the same, at that moment in time she wished she was any place but here. Vicky had been robbed of precious time with Barney, while she herself had earned a measure of his love, and had even borne him a child. How would Vicky react to that? What would she think? Was she bitter? Did she blame Barney? Did she blame her? Lucy was so frantic, it was all she could do to restrain herself from turning tail and fleeing from the station.

Adam’s voice resonated in her ear. ‘Lucy Baker, will you stop fretting! Lord help me, I love you more with every day that passes. You’re the most caring, considerate, aggravating woman I’ve ever come across.’

‘And you’re beginning to get on my nerves.’

‘Let me bring you a hot drink then, and I’ll not say another word – unless, of course, you want me to?’

‘I don’t want you to. But I’d very much appreciate that hot drink. Honestly, Adam, I can’t imagine why you didn’t think of it before, instead of causing such an almighty fuss about me leaving the platform!’

While Adam went to get the drinks, Lucy’s anxious gaze scanned the far-off track, hoping to see the train as it appeared down the line. ‘What will I say?’ she fretted. ‘How will I greet her? We were close at one time, but it’s been so long, I don’t know how it will all turn out.’

Her nerves were jangling. In her mind she could see the old Vicky, pretty as a picture and lovely in nature. But what was she like now? Had she hardened over the years? Had she turned cold and resentful because of the shocking way her idyllic marriage had come to an end?

And what of the letter that had ended her present marriage? It was Lucy herself who had written it, and now she was beginning to regret it deeply. Maybe Adam was right after all. Maybe she should have let sleeping dogs lie.

Suddenly the shrill tones of the announcer came out of the loudspeaker: ‘The ten forty-five from London St Pancras will be arriving at Platform Two in precisely ten minutes. There are no delays.’

On board the approaching train, a similar announcement was given over the air.

‘Ten minutes!’ Vicky had grown more nervous with every passing mile. With only two other passengers in her compartment, she had found a seat next to the window, and managed to collect her thoughts.

She had never been one for travelling. In all of her life she had only ever made two long journeys; the first had taken her away from everything she had ever known. The second was bringing her back.

At least when she sailed away from Liverpool, she had believed Barney to be alive and well, although it had come as a terrible shock to learn of his death, a mere three years later. Doctor Lucas had relayed the news to Leonard, who in turn gently told her and the children. Yet part of her, a very deep part was not surprised. How could her beloved Barney survive without her love, and without the love of his children? God knew, it had nearly killed her to be without him, and look at the effect on their three children.

She glanced out of the window at the darkening rural landscape. Nothing here was familiar, though the patchwork of fields and the occasional spinney reminded her of the fields up North where she had worked alongside Barney. This area of Bedfordshire should have been meaningless to her, but it was important now, because this was where her husband had spent his last days, with Lucy, and their daughter, Mary.

She was not surprised that Barney had turned to Lucy, for the latter was not only a lovely-natured person, but she had been a close friend of the family, and like all of them, Barney had a soft spot for her. But for Lucy and Barney to become lovers and conceive a child? That would never have crossed her mind in a million years. It was a bitter pill to swallow.

Yet for all that, she looked forward to seeing her, and strangely, she also looked forward to meeting Barney’s other daughter. She wondered if Mary had a look of him, and if so, she would have a look of Susie, because Barney’s first daughter was more like him in appearance than any of his other children.

Thinking about her children brought a degree of pain to Vicky. When she needed them most, they had not been ready to forgive.

Unable to deal with it for now, she closed her mind to them and forced herself to remember the days when she was with Barney, happy, carefree days which would never come again. It made her heart sore to think they had gone forever, but gone they were.

Her fretful thoughts were submerged into the rhythm of the train wheels as they hurried along the track … Clackety-clack, marches the army, clackety-clack, I love you Barney. The sound of iron against iron merged with the hiss of steam and somehow it became a song in her heart, and the song created in her a soothing sensation.

Lucy was grateful for the cup of tea in a thick white mug that Adam had brought. ‘Did you water the plants on your way here?’ she quipped, staring into the cup. ‘It’s half-empty.’

‘An accident,’ Adam told her sheepishly. ‘There were people pushing and shoving at the ticket-desk. I dodged past them, trying my best to keep out of their way …’ He rolled his eyes. ‘The truth is, this infant ran in front of me and I tripped over. But I managed to keep hold of the cups.’

Lucy was at once sympathetic. ‘Are you all right? Did you hurt yourself?’

‘No.’ Having given Lucy one cup, Adam placed his own on the bench and brushed himself down. ‘There was help at hand.’

He pointed to a child now climbing onto a platform bench, and with him was a woman the size of a ten-ton truck, arms like a navvy and a turban wrapped round her hair, tied so tight her eyes seemed to pop out. ‘She picked me up,’ he said with some embarrassment.

Just then the woman turned round and gave him a wonky smile. Adam smiled back, his face bright red as he frantically brushed the dirt and dust from his best trousers.

‘That woman there? She was the one who picked you up?’ Lucy’s face crumpled. ‘Her unruly infant knocked you down, and she picked you up?’ In her mind she had this hilarious image of the elegant Adam going flying across the floor, arms in the air, and that enormous person who looked more like an all-in wrestler than a woman, manhandling him as he fought to keep the cups upright.

It was all too much. The laughter sparkled in her eyes and then Adam was giggling, and now as the woman sat herself on the bench, legs apart and bloomers showing, Lucy quickly had to walk to the waiting room where she erupted in a fit of laughter, tears streaming down her cheeks.

After a time, she managed to compose herself and return to Adam. ‘I would have given anything to see it,’ she told him.

‘You’re a wicked woman,’ he told her, still laughing at himself, and she gave him a kiss for being so entertaining.

Now, as the train-whistle blew, Lucy’s mind was focused once more on Vicky. ‘It’s here,’ she told Adam excitedly. ‘The train’s here!’

Standing their cups beside a bench, the two of them moved closer to the edge of the night-dark platform, where the train was already beginning to pull in.

As it chugged to a halt, the steam rose and all the doors opened. People spilled out and it was hard to distinguish them through the billowing clouds. ‘Where is she?’ Lucy strained her eyes, searching for Vicky. ‘Oh Adam, what if she changed her mind at the last minute?’

Philosophical as ever, Adam calmed her fears. ‘If she has, then there is nothing we can do about it.’

People thronged past and soon there was no one left. The station seemed suddenly eerie.

‘Look there!’ Adam pointed to the figure climbing out of the train. ‘Is that her, do you think?’

They watched as the passenger stepped down to the platform. As the slim figure of a woman came out of the night, it was like watching a ghost materialising from the past.

‘It must be her.’ Lucy’s heart was in her mouth. ‘It has to be Vicky Davidson.’