Читать книгу A Mother’s Gift: Two Classic Novels - Josephine Cox - Страница 17

UNAWARE OF DEVELOPMENTS at home, Lucy drove her energy into the last task of the day. ‘Almost done now,’ she told the curious magpie who had been watching her for the past ten minutes or so. ‘Another few good wallops, and there won’t be a speck of dust left.’

Raising the beater, she brought it down against the rug so hard that it danced on the clothes-line; another good hard wallop, and the dust flew in all directions, not as much as when she had first brought the rug out, but enough to give her a coughing fit, and send the startled magpie off to the skies.

‘Cowardly creature!’ she called after it. ‘Mind, if I had wings, I’d be off too.’ Oh, and she would an’ all! Away above the chimney-tops ever so high, she would raise her head and flap her wings fast and furious until she was across the oceans, then she’d keep going until she reached some tropical paradise. But she wouldn’t go alone, oh no. Wherever she went, she would take her darling son with her.

From the office window upstairs, the tall, elegant woman watched Lucy as she worked; the squire’s secretary could hear Lucy’s voice raised in song, but that wasn’t unusual, because during her working day, whether inside or out, Lucy’s melodious singing could be heard all over Haskell Hall. ‘You’re a good soul, Lucy Baker,’ Miss McGuire murmured, putting down her fountain-pen. ‘Hardworking and happy as the day is long.’

As she watched Lucy hoist the rug from the line and drop it to the ground, she was taken by surprise when the girl suddenly looked up to see her there. ‘I won’t be long,’ she called out. ‘I’m finished just now.’

Lucy quickened her steps towards the house, the hot breeze playing with the hem of her skirt, her feet bare as the day she was born; with the rug carried in her arms, like a mother might carry a bairn, she made a fetching sight.

When a moment or two later, Lucy burst into the kitchen, Miss McGuire was waiting for her. ‘For the life of me, Lucy, I don’t know why you beat the rug when you could use that new vacuum cleaner. It was bought to suck up the dirt and dust from the floor, after all, and to save the staff here from heavy work.’

‘I do use it,’ Lucy protested, ‘but it’s not very good. Sometimes things get stuck in it and it won’t work, and then old Jake has to see to it, and while he’s doing that I still have to beat the rugs.’ She prodded the one in her arms. ‘This one is no good at all. It’s got long fringes and they go flying up into the workings and then it’s the devil’s own job to free them. It’s much quicker just to give it a sound beating on the clothes-line.’

The squire’s secretary tended to agree, but did not say so. Instead she looked down at Lucy’s bare feet. Small and neat, they were covered in a film of dust, and there was the tiniest leaf sticking out between the toes. ‘Never mind the rug,’ she retorted. ‘Perhaps you’d like to tell me why you aren’t wearing your boots?’ Exasperated at the times she had asked the young woman to always wear her boots for fear of hurting herself on the harsh ground, she groaned. ‘Just look at your poor feet, Lucy … covered in dust and picking up all the debris from the ground. One of these days you’re bound to get an injury. I’ve asked you so many times to wear your work-boots, I’m worn out with it.’

Lucy looked down at her feet. ‘I’m a mucky pup, I know,’ she conceded, wiggling her toes to be rid of the leaf, ‘but I feel so uncomfortable with the boots on. I’m sorry, Miss McGuire. I’ll try to wear them, I promise.’

‘And how many times have you said that?’ The secretary rolled her eyes. ‘And how many times have I seen you running about in your bare feet? It isn’t as though you’re a child, Lucy. You’re a grown woman of nearly thirty, for heaven’s sake, and you have a little one to think of. What would happen if something fell on your feet and broke them? How would you go on then, eh?’

‘I know, and I’m really sorry,’ Lucy repeated. ‘I promise I’ll try to keep the shoes on.’ Lucy hated wearing shoes of any kind, almost as much as she hated cold porridge.

‘Mind you do then.’ The secretary was a kindly sort. She had little to do with the housekeeper’s staff here at the Hall, but she had always had a soft spot for Lucy.

‘Anyway, enough of this. It’s time you went home,’ she told Lucy now. ‘There hasn’t been a day in the past fortnight when you’ve left on time.’

‘That’s ’cause I like to finish all my work before I go,’ Lucy explained.

‘I know that, all too well,’ came the reply. ‘But you must leave time for yourself … and the child.’ The secretary tried hard not to be shocked by the young woman’s situation as an unmarried mother. The squire never listened to gossip so he remained ignorant of Jamie’s existence; however, some of the other staff were aware of her status and shunned Lucy because of it.

‘Oh, I do!’ Lucy answered eagerly. ‘When I’m not working here, I spend every passing minute with him.’ A look of sheer joy lit her face. ‘You can’t know how much I love him. No one can.’

Dorothy was fond enough of Lucy to tell her, ‘I’m sure I do know how much you love him. All I’m saying is this: it’s no wonder you still haven’t found a man to take care of you and the child, what with you working all hours, and here you are already twenty-nine years of age. Most young women are safely married and settled in their own home at that age.’ This didn’t apply to her either, she acknowledged sadly.

When she saw the downcast look on Lucy’s face she was mortified. ‘I’ve spoken out of turn, my dear. I didn’t mean to be cruel. It’s just that you’re such a lovely young woman and I do care what happens to you. I’d hate to think you were destined to spend your life all alone.’

‘It’s all right, Miss McGuire, I don’t mind.’ But she did, and now her thoughts were filled with memories of a dark-eyed man who had quickly come into her life and filled her days with fun, and then just as quickly gone out of her life, without so much as a how’s your father!

But she had not forgotten him. She never would. Especially when he’d left her with child, and it had caused so much trouble at home that she was made to leave in disgrace – and soon after, her mother and father split up and went their separate ways. And now she had no family at all, save for her little boy, who was everything to her.

‘Go on then! Be off with you, before the housekeeper finds you another job to do. And don’t worry. I’ll let her know you’ve gone.’

The woman’s voice invaded her thoughts, and when she looked up, the kindly secretary was already on her way down the long corridor.

Dragging the rug through the kitchen, Lucy got it to the drawing room, where she rolled it out before the big fireplace. ‘All done for another day.’ Sometimes Lucy sang, and sometimes like now, she talked to herself, and then there was the time when she got caught dancing on the sofa-table and almost got her marching orders from the housekeeper.

It was the same at home. Often Bridget would say, ‘For the love of God, will ye sit still and be quiet!’ But she couldn’t. There was too much life in her, and it wasn’t her fault.

Without wasting any more time, Lucy ran to the cupboard where her two pairs of shoes were lined up: black lace-up boots for work, and daintier shoes with ankle-straps for going home in. Taking out the ankle-strap shoes, she put them on and, flicking her long hair out of her eyes, she hurried out of the back door, her voice raised in song and her feet skipping as she went.

By the kennels at the side of the house, Lucy stopped to pet the hounds. She had a marvellous way with animals; whenever they had the chance, the squire’s hounds would follow her everywhere, and while everyone else would stay clear of the bull in its pen, Lucy could often be seen defying instructions to lean over the gate and stroke its nose.

Lucy was halfway down the hill when she stopped to take off her shoes. The grass looked so warm, lush and inviting in the evening heat. Tying the ankle-straps together, she slung the shoes over her shoulder and went on in bare feet.

She was almost at the brook when she saw the figure of a man coming towards her. It wasn’t the squire, or he’d have his dogs with him, and it wasn’t Barney Davidson from Overhill Farm, because he was smaller-built.

She often spoke with Barney when he was out on the hills with his sheep or doing other work on the land. She liked him; he had a kind, caring manner, and was easy to talk with. In fact, if he wasn’t married and she wasn’t still completely infatuated with Edward, she could have fallen for him herself.

While Lucy grew increasingly curious about the man approaching from the bottom of the hill, he was also straining his eyes to see if it really was Lucy drawing ever closer, though when he saw that familiar wave of long hair flowing in the breeze and the cheeky swagger of her long limbs, he knew it was her and began to run. ‘LUCY!’ The wind carried his voice across the valley. ‘LUCY BAKER, IT’S ME! IT’S YOUR SWEETHEART COME HOME!’

Hearing the voice, but unable to decipher the words, Lucy stopped and stared. With the sun directly in her face she couldn’t see his features. But she saw the long, confident strides as he ran to her, and when he dropped the kitbag from his back, there was something disturbingly familiar about the way he moved. Slowly but surely, realisation dawned. ‘Edward? My Edward?’ She whispered his name; was it really him? Excitement coursed through her, but she didn’t call out or run forward. She didn’t dare trust her own judgement.

By the time he got close enough for her to recognise him, she took to her heels and ran to meet him. When he caught her in his arms and swung her high in the air, she laughed and cried with sheer joy. ‘Oh Edward, I thought I’d never see you again!’ She looked into his dark eyes and thought she would never again be so happy.

‘I told you I’d be back.’ Breathless, he set her down. ‘I’ve never forgotten you, Lucy. Every day, every minute we’ve been apart, I’ve thought of this day.’

Caught up in the excitement of the moment, he kissed her long and hard, and held the kiss until Lucy thought she would suffocate.

‘Stop!’ Flattening her hands against his chest she remembered how he had walked out on her. ‘What makes you think you can waltz back into my life and just pick up where you left off? You signed up and sailed away without a by your leave, and now you’re back with the same damned cheek of it!’

Lucy had not forgotten the humiliation, the pain of it all, and then the despair. It had been a bad business for her, and then she found out she was with child and had to suffer in silence until she could hide the secret no longer. Her pregnancy – which caused a great scandal in the neighbourhood – created rows and repercussions between her parents, and in the end she witnessed the break-up of her family, and that was as much Edward’s fault as her own.

For a long time things had gone from bad to worse, and still she had hoped he might return. But he never did – until now. And though she was thrilled beyond words to see him, she couldn’t help but chide him. ‘You let me down good and proper, Edward Trent!’

When he now looked desolate, she instantly forgave him and taking off at the run, shouted, ‘If you want me, you’ll have to catch me!’

And catch her he did; on the little slope just above the stream. He threw himself bodily at her, and together the two of them went rolling down the hill, until they landed up right next to the brook. She cupped a handful of water and chucked it at him while he lay helpless with laughter.

‘You’re a bloody lunatic!’ he screeched, and she couldn’t speak for spluttering. Her heart was leaping about inside her like a crazy thing: after all this time, when she had given up any hope of ever seeing him again, Edward Trent was back.

It was too wonderful for words. Her baby’s father was home to make a proper life for them. They would be a family at last, and if Lucy could have jumped over the moon right then and there, she would have done.

Wrapping his strong sailor’s arms about her slim waist, he inched her towards the soft rich grass that lined the stream’s edge, and right there, with the clean, fresh water lapping over their bare feet, he laid her down and took her with a kind of animal hunger; not tenderly, not gently or cruelly, but the only way he knew how, driven by lust and the over-riding greed to be satisfied. This was his third partner of the day, his fourth coupling, and for a little while, his passion subsided.

‘That was so good, Lucy,’ he said hoarsely. ‘You don’t know how long I’ve waited to be with you like that.’

But Lucy had not yet heard the words she yearned to hear. ‘Do you love me?’ she asked hesitantly. ‘Really love me?’ Somehow she couldn’t be sure, even now.

He laughed. ‘That’s a silly question.’ And then, as though to dismiss the thought, he kissed her mouth. ‘Didn’t I just show you how much I love you?’

Lucy drew away. ‘But you didn’t say it. All the time we were making love, you never once said you loved me.’

‘I did! I’m sure I did.’ Bloody women, he thought. Are they never satisfied?

‘Say it now.’ Lucy needed convincing.

‘What? Say what?’ Anger trembled in his voice.

‘That you love me … say it!’

‘Jesus, but you’re a persistent bugger.’ Suddenly amused, he grinned down on her. ‘But then you always were a spirited devil. It’s what I liked most about you.’

‘Say it then.’ Melting to him, Lucy traced his lips with the tip of her finger. ‘If you don’t say it, I’ll know you’re not serious about us.’

Twice he opened his mouth to say it, but telling a woman that he loved her did not come easy, mainly because his idea of love and hers were not the same. Where she might think of something precious to them both – a sharing, giving emotion, with a deep-down need to build a life together – he was a cold, selfish man who saw his own needs to be of paramount importance.

Now, as he looked into that small, upturned face with the appealing brown eyes and the sunlight dancing off her long unkempt hair, he had to appease her. ‘Silly bitch, o’ course I love you!’ Snatching her to him, he held her there for what seemed an age; until she drew away, to divulge a secret which shocked him to the core.

‘Edward, I’ve got something to tell you.’ She was so nervous, she could feel herself trembling.

He kissed her again. ‘Have you, now. Well then, you’d best tell me, hadn’t you?’

She nodded. ‘When you were here before …’ She hesitated, not knowing whether he would be pleased or angry. Yet, if they were to be married and start their own home together, he would have to know, and so she told him in a rush. ‘We have a son, Edward. His name is Jamie, and oh, he’s so beautiful.’ As she gabbled on, intent on getting it off her chest, she did not see how the light in his eyes had dimmed, or the set of his jaw had hardened. ‘He has such a look of you, and oh, just now he’s beginning to learn to walk …’

She was silenced when he suddenly grabbed her by the shoulders. ‘What are you saying, Lucy?’ His hands dug into her skin, hurting her. ‘A son? You’re telling me that you have a child?’

‘That’s right, Edward – we have a child. He was born nine months to the day you went away. I had no idea that I was expecting. I wanted so much to let you know about him, but I couldn’t, because I didn’t know where you were.’ Her voice faltered. ‘I called him James – Jamie – after your middle name. Jamie Baker, he is – but now we can change it to Trent.’

Only a few minutes ago, her heart had been singing, but now she could see what a shock it was to him, and she was fearful.

‘It’ll be all right,’ she gabbled. ‘We’ll get married and rent a little house and I’ll work at Haskell Hall like now, and oh, Edward, it will be so wonderful …’

She paused, hope smiling in her eyes. ‘It will be wonderful, won’t it?’

The man didn’t answer straight away. His mind was feverishly working. A child? A bastard to keep his feet tied to the ground while he broke his back working to keep him, and her. He didn’t want that. Besides, how could he be sure it was his? He only had her word for it. For all he knew, he could be taking on another man’s throwaway.

‘Edward?’ her small voice persisted. ‘It will be all right, won’t it?’ Lucy had always realised that if he ever came back, the news would be a shock, but she had hoped that, in the end, he would be overjoyed to have a son.

‘Of course, and why wouldn’t it be?’ His quick smile belied the rage inside. If she thought he was staying now, she’d soon find out different.

‘And you’re not angry?’

‘Angry?’ He held her close as though he would never let her go. ‘How could I be angry? I won’t deny it was a shock, but what man wouldn’t be pleased to know he had a son waiting for him?’

Lucy was thrilled. ‘We’ll be a proper family, and I’ll make you happy, I promise.’ Even though there was still that little voice warning her to be wary, Lucy had to believe him.

‘Where is he, this son of mine?’

‘Back at Bridget’s house. Oh Edward, she’s been so good to us. Some people say she’s the worst of the worst because she has girls who entertain, but she’s a good woman. You’ll see when you meet her. She has a helper by the name of Tillie who takes care of our son when I’m working …’

‘I see.’ He stopped her there. ‘And you say she has girls who entertain?’ He thought of Lynette, and smirked.

Lucy nodded earnestly. ‘They’re my friends. Bridget looks after them … like she looks after me.’

‘Took them off the street, did she?’

‘Something like that, yes.’ Lucy didn’t care for the way the conversation was going. ‘But they’re good girls … I mean, they’re kind and thoughtful, and they’ve helped me through a bad time. When my parents found out about the baby, they went crazy. My mam wanted to send me to a woman in the back streets who does away with unwanted pregnancies, and my dad said she was callous, and that we should wait until you came back and he’d make sure it got sorted out.’

The memories had never gone away, though thanks to Bridget she had managed to push a lot of it to the back of her mind. Now though, it all came flooding back; the rows and upsets, and the terrible things that were said. Lucy had always thought her parents were happily married, when all the time they had just been ‘rubbing along’, as her mother had put it.

When she told them she was pregnant, it was as though she had lifted a lid they had each been struggling to keep shut, and all the venom came to the surface. ‘Oh Edward, it was awful. In the end, they split up, and I found myself out on the streets. That was when Bridget took me in. She was at convent school with my mam, but she’s as different from her as chalk from cheese.’ Tears filled her eyes. ‘Mam didn’t want anything to do with me, or her grandchild, but Bridget’s been both mother to me and granny to the bairn.’

Edward curled his lip at this description of a ‘tart with a golden heart’. ‘Well, you’ve no need to worry now,’ he lied. ‘I’m here and like your father said, it will all be sorted out.’

In reality he was already wondering where he’d dropped his kitbag, so he could go back and collect it and be gone like the wind out of here. If he’d had any feelings for her at all, they’d been suffocated by the news she’d given him. A bastard waiting to claim him for life, women who ‘entertained’ – and how could he be sure that Lucy herself had not ‘entertained’ some man or another, and that’s how she came to be with child? Oh no! He might be a fool for a good-looking woman, but he was not fool enough to truss himself up like a chicken ready for the oven.

‘Edward?’ Lucy could see he was deep in thought. ‘What’s wrong?’ She knew he was thinking of the news she had just given him.

‘Oh, I’m sorry, sweetheart.’ Scrambling to his feet, he took hold of her hand and pulled her up to him. ‘I’ll get my kitbag, then we’ll walk back and you can introduce me to my son. Then we’ll make plans. It’s all going to be fine, Lucy.’

They got up and walked on, and she nestled in the curve of his arm, a spring in her step and a song in her heart. Edward was back. Everything would be fine now.

As they walked, Lucy was full of plans. ‘We’ll find a little house to rent with a good-sized garden, and we’ll sit outside and watch our son playing, then of an evening, we can see the sun going down. Oh, sweetheart …’ She looked at him and her heart was full. ‘I’m so glad you’re back.’

The man cared nothing for her dreaming. He had plans of his own, and they certainly didn’t include sitting around in a garden and watching somebody else’s kid playing. But he didn’t want Lucy to know what he was thinking, so he said all the right things and convinced her that if that was what she wanted, then so did he. And Lucy believed him.

‘Look!’ Drawing his attention to the flock of sheep being driven to the brow of the hill, Lucy told him, ‘There’s Barney Davidson.’

As he turned to see, Lucy gave him a playful push and ran on. ‘Race you to the lane!’

‘You little sod!’ She had caught him off-guard, and he was thrilled. This was what spurred him on, a spirited woman fleeing and himself in full chase: and when he caught her, what fun it would be. ‘Come on, Eddie boy,’ he said to himself. ‘Get after her. Leave her with another mouth to feed and happen she’ll find some other poor bugger to take her on!’

For a moment he stood his ground and watched her running, bare-footed, with the pretty shoes dangling from her hand and her hair flowing behind, and the sound of her laughter exciting him – and he had a moment of weakness. For one dangerous, fleeting moment, he actually thought she might be worth staying for. But when fear took over, the moment was quickly gone.

Wickedness surged through him, and a sense of fun. There was no need to commit himself, not when he could have it all and walk away. Right now, Lucy wanted him to chase her and he would, and that was all right, because this was what he believed life was all about. Never mind responsibility. That was for other folks, not for a free-and-easy-living man like himself.

With a shout to let her know he was right behind, he set off at the run.

High on the hill, Barney saw the two of them careering across the field towards the stile; Lucy in front and going like the wind, and the man fast closing in.

He could hear the young woman’s merry laughter and he smiled. ‘Seems like she’s found a bit of happiness,’ he told Jess, his red-setter bitch, who trotted beside him, keeping an eye on the sheep. ‘Lord knows, she deserves it after what she’s been through.’

He knew Lucy because the two of them often chatted as she wended her way to work, and last winter, he had taken her along the lane in his cart because the hills were snow-covered. That was the very first time she had confided in him. After that, they had often walked the hills in the same direction, her going to and from the squire’s house and himself to the outlying fields where he would check his flock.

As they got to know each other better, Lucy had confided in him more and more. Then one day when his lovely Vicky was walking with him, Lucy came along and joined them. The two women had got on so well that Vicky invited her up to Overhill Farm for tea, and it had been a very enjoyable evening.

‘I don’t know if that’s the boy’s father,’ he told Jess as they strolled on, ‘but even if it’s not, Lucy seems content enough with him.’

Just then he heard a scream and on looking down again, he could see that Lucy had taken a tumble as she climbed the stile; he could see her lying among the big stones there and she didn’t appear to be moving. ‘Good God! Looks like she’s hurt!’ As he ran forward the dog bounded in front, ears pricked, sensing danger. Lucy wasn’t getting up! What the hell was the bloke playing at? Cupping his hands, Barney called out: ‘You there! Is she all right?’

As Barney drew nearer he could see how the man was standing still, looking down on Lucy and not making any move to help her. Suddenly he threw his kitbag over his shoulder and, with a backward glance at Barney, he began walking away, slowly at first then quickening his steps, and now with Barney less than fifty yards away, he bent his head, lengthened his stride and took off at speed. ‘I can’t help her, I’ve a ship waiting!’ he yelled as he ran. ‘I don’t even know the woman.’

Barney had a choice; he could either go after the man and teach him a lesson he might never forget, or he could help Lucy, who was lying in a crooked position with her head oozing blood against a boulder.

His choice was no choice at all. He had to help Lucy. By now she was groaning; trying to move but seeming unable to.

Coming nearer, he began talking to her, soothing her as he fell to his knees beside her. ‘It’s all right, Lucy,’ he said softly. ‘You’ve taken a knock to the head, but you’ll be fine, don’t worry. I’ll get you home to my Vicky. She’ll know what to do.’

When Lucy gave no answer, he continued talking to her in a quiet voice, at the same time gently sliding his two arms under her slight form and collecting her to his chest. To him, she was but a feather in his arms, for he was a man possessed of strength that came from a lifetime labouring in the fields.

The movement disturbed her. With dazed vision she stared up at him, her shocked eyes looking into his. ‘Where’s Edward?’ she asked brokenly, but her voice remained silent. Try as she might, she could not make her voice be heard. And now she closed her eyes and let herself drift. ‘Edward?’ Where was he?

‘Lie quiet, Lucy.’ Sensing her agitation, he guessed she was wondering about the cowardly man. ‘I’ve got you now,’ he told her. ‘You’ll have to trust me.’ All the way home, he kept reassuring her, until she was limp and senseless in his arms.

Barney was a fit man who would have normally taken ten or fifteen minutes to reach his home from that particular spot, but Lucy was now a dead weight and with his every footstep she grew heavier in his arms, until home seemed a million miles away. ‘Go in front, lass!’ he called to the red-setter. ‘Let her know I’m on my way.’

Vicky was taking in the washing when the dog came running up to nuzzle her legs. A small, golden-haired woman with soft grey eyes, she greeted the dog with a stroke of the head. ‘What’s the matter, girl, eh?’ she laughed. Jess was a devil for the play and leaping at her now, even though she had an armful of clean clothes. ‘No! Get off, you unruly hound.’ The setter had run a long way at a fast pace and now her tongue was hanging out and slaver running from her jowls. Vicky feared she might drop the washing, and then: ‘You’ll slobber on the clothes, and I’ll have to wash the blooming things all over again!’

When Jess continued to nuzzle her, Vicky dropped the clothes into the basket. Snatching it up into her arms, she chided the animal. ‘What’s got into you? Behave yourself!’

Now, as she turned, she caught sight of Barney out of the corner of her eye; a distance from the house and treading every step with care, he was carrying what she at first thought was a dead sheep. ‘BARNEY!’ Raising her voice, she ran forward. ‘WHAT’S HAPPENED?’

Encouraged by the sight of home and his beloved, Barney hurried to her as fast as he could. ‘It’s Lucy,’ he panted. ‘She’s taken a bad tumble. I reckon she needs a doctor and fast!’

Running before him, Vicky opened all the doors and in no time at all, Lucy was laid on the spare bed, with a blanket over her. ‘You fetch the doctor,’ Vicky instructed her husband. ‘I’ll get her out of these clothes and make her comfortable.’

And so, while Vicky set about helping Lucy, Barney rode into the village of Comberton on his bicycle to fetch the doctor.

By the time Vicky had bathed the wound on Lucy’s head, changed her into one of her own nightgowns, and tucked her up in bed, Lucy was more alert, though still dizzy and not yet able to focus properly. ‘Jamie!’ Her first concern was for her son.

Vicky quietened her. ‘He’s fine,’ she said. ‘If you want, I’ll ask Barney to go over and bring him to you, but for now, he’s safe with Tillie, isn’t he? She’s taking good care of him.’

Subdued, Lucy cast her mind back to when she fell. ‘I was running …’ she tried to explain. ‘Edward … he …’ She raised her head a short distance from the pillow and dropped it again as though it was too heavy for her shoulders. ‘He was behind me when I fell.’ She tried to look into the room. ‘Where is he?’

Vicky had no idea who this Edward was. ‘I don’t know,’ she replied kindly. ‘I expect he won’t be far away.’

Lucy despaired. ‘He’s gone, hasn’t he?’ she whispered sadly. ‘He’s gone – and he’s never coming back.’ In her deepest heart she had always known he would be gone at the first opportunity, but she had so much wanted to be wrong. Her heart and her head had been at odds about Edward from the day he had set his sights on her. It was so hard to give up hope, to see things as they really were.

‘I can’t answer that,’ Vicky answered softly. ‘We’ll find your Edward, I’m sure, the minute Barney comes back.’

However kindly her intention, Vicky’s assurances gave Lucy small comfort. Desolate, she closed her eyes and let the sleep roll over her. He was gone. Edward was gone; and it had all been too good to be true. He hadn’t even seen their son.

When Dr Lucas arrived he gave Lucy a swift yet thorough examination. ‘There doesn’t seem to be any lasting damage,’ he concluded, ‘though I would prefer her not to be too active, for at least a week.’

He handed Vicky a bottle of dark brown liquid. ‘Bathe the wound in this morning and night, but it must not be covered … fresh air is the best thing. Light food, and a little exercise, but she must rest. A week of that, and I expect her to be good as new.’ Having given his diagnosis and delivered the prescription, he bade them goodbye. ‘You know where I am if you should need me,’ he declared, in that abrupt manner of any good doctor.

Afterwards, while Vicky went downstairs to put the kettle on, Barney told Lucy what the doctor had said. ‘It might be best if you stay here with us for the week,’ he suggested, and Lucy thanked him. ‘If it isn’t too much trouble?’ she said tearfully.

‘No trouble at all,’ he promised. With a smile he added, ‘With three offspring and yon Jess, I can’t deny we’re a noisy family at times, but I’ll make sure you’re not too disturbed. One of us’ll nip over to the squire’s tomorrow morning and let ’em know you’ve had a little accident so they won’t expect to see you again for a few days, all right?’

Lucy thanked him again, and when he left her to rest, she cried until she thought her heart would break. Edward was gone, and with him, her own chance of a proper family. Her son would never know his father, and she would never experience the true happiness that she had witnessed between Barney and his Vicky.

Those two had something beautiful, a very special belonging that she could never even hope for.