Читать книгу Journey’s End - Josephine Cox - Страница 11

AS LUCY CARRIED on rinsing the pots, dreaming quietly to herself, she heard Mary call out a greeting to someone. Lucy raised her gaze to see a familiar figure approaching up the path. ‘Elsie!’ Lucy was not expecting her so early.

Quickly now, she wiped her arms and rolled down her sleeves, and backing away from the sink, she sat at the table, for all the world as though she had been there all along.

As was her way, Elsie Langton burst in through the door like a wayward wind, her sharp eyes going straight to the sink, half-filled with sudsy water and the few plates resting on the wooden draining-board alongside.

‘What’s all this then?’ she demanded, indignantly folding her arms. ‘You’ve been washing up again, haven’t yer? For heaven’s sakes, can you never do as you’re told and take it easy? What’s more, I’d be obliged if you would stop doing my work. One fine day I’ll come through that door and there you’ll be, waiting with my pay packet and a “cheerio, how’s yer father but I don’t need yer any more”. Then what will I do, eh? Tell me that if yer please!’

Lucy tutted impatiently. ‘Don’t talk so much nonsense, woman.’ Clambering out of her chair, she confronted the little person with a sense of outrage. ‘Anyway, who’s in charge round here, you tell me that.’

As the bantering continued, Mary stood by the door, quietly amused. There was no harm in these fiery exchanges, she knew that. Her mother valued Elsie as part of the family. And as for the little woman herself, she was hardworking, funny and lovable, and totally devoted to Lucy; but when she had a bee in her bonnet she could be a real terrier.

‘Out with it,’ Elsie demanded grimly. ‘What else have yer been up to? Sweeping the yard, taking down the curtains – what?’

With a measure of dignity, Lucy stood her ground. ‘Just listen to yourself. You above all people should know I’m past doing those kind of things. Anyway, what if I had done everything you claim? It’s my right. It’s my house, isn’t it?’

Exasperated, Elsie waggled her fat little head from side to side, which in turn wobbled the fat little shoulders. ‘It’s no use yer arguing with me,’ she retorted. ‘You had strict orders from the doctor … “gentle exercise and the occasional walk, as long as it’s not too far”, isn’t that what the man said?’

Lucy glared at her. ‘Good God, you make me sound like some poor old dog that needs to be put down!’

‘Dearie, dearie me!’ Elsie had a way of making you feel guilty even though you hadn’t done anything wrong. ‘If yer don’t mind me saying, it’s you that’s talking nonsense now. My only concern is that you keep strong and healthy. I don’t want to see you standing at the sink to wash the dishes, or turning the mattress, like you did the other day. And if I hadn’t arrived in time when you were struggling to get the vacuum cleaner out of the cupboard under the stairs, like as not you’d have broke a limb. And only yesterday I caught you cleaning out the pantry. God give me strength, you’re always meddling in places where you’ve no right to be. Cleaning, fetching and carrying is what I’m here for.’

When again she shook her head, her chubby little chops shivered with irritation. ‘It’s why yer pay me, for goodness’ sake!’

They both looked up as Mary stepped forward from the doorway. ‘I’ll make us a fresh pot of tea, shall I?’ she suggested tactfully. ‘That’s if nobody has any objections?’ Rona, Elsie’s daughter, worked alongside Mary in her flower-shop in Leighton Buzzard, and the two young women were fast friends. She’d be sure to report the latest exchange to her!

Grateful for the intervention, Lucy gave a warm smile. ‘Thank you, dear, that would be nice.’

But Elsie’s feathers were still ruffled. ‘I’ll have two sugars in mine,’ she snapped, ‘and just a whisper of milk, if yer please. There’s some Garibaldi biscuits in that tin. We’re keeping the homemade ones for Doctor Nolan.’ With that she took off her coat and hat and hung them up. ‘Meanwhile, I’d best make a start on cleaning the winders … before somebody we all know takes a mind to do it herself!’ With that she threw Lucy a withering glance and departed.

Lucy was left chuckling. ‘Anybody would think I interfered with her daily routine.’

Mary turned with a wry little smile. ‘You do.’

‘Well, maybe I do, but I’m frightened that if I stop doing things, I might seize up altogether. Don’t you know how hard it is for me to be still?’

‘I think I know that more than anybody. Don’t forget, I’m the one who has to live with you.’

‘Do you think I should apologise to Elsie? She’s such a treasure.’

‘It wouldn’t do any good if you did.’

‘Why not?’ Lucy had not expected an answer like that.

Coming to the table, Mary set the tray down. ‘Because the pair of you will only be going at it hammer and tongs again tomorrow.’

Taken aback, Lucy stared up at Mary open-mouthed. ‘Are we really that bad?’

‘Worse!’

When the laughter carried outside to the men, they stopped work to look towards the kitchen. ‘Something’s tickled their funny-bones,’ Ben remarked with a grin.

‘Sounds like it,’ Adam agreed; the merry laughter was infectious.

‘That should do it.’ Laying down the spanner, Ben asked Adam to start the car, and when it spluttered into life and seemed to run smoother than before, the older man gave a sigh of relief. ‘Don’t know how to thank you,’ he said, and Ben told him he was only too pleased to have been able to help.

‘I’d best get cleaned up, and take Mary to approve my new tractor.’ Ben smiled at the prospect. ‘After that, we’ve got the whole day to please ourselves what we do.’

Adam saw the gleam in Ben’s eye and his heart warmed. ‘You really love her, don’t you?’

Ben’s answer was instant and sincere. ‘Like I’ve never loved anyone in my life,’ he said. ‘I can’t recall what my life was like before she came along, and now I can’t imagine a day without her.’

Suddenly, Mary was making her way towards them. Upstairs, hanging out of the window with her cloth, Elsie was shouting down to her, ‘What were you two laughing about, eh?’

‘It’s Mum. You know what she’s like.’ Mary was still chuckling. ‘She was saying how she’d best teach you your place, because you’re getting too big for your boots.’

‘Huh! It’s the other way round, more like!’

When, a moment later, Elsie saw the doctor getting out of his car, she dropped her cloth into the bucket, ran to the landing and called down to Lucy, who quickly made her way upstairs, brushed her hair and sat nervously on the edge of the bed, waiting to greet him.

Though deep down she knew it was unfair, Lucy harboured a certain distrust of doctors. It had started when Barney fell ill and they could do nothing to help him. To Lucy’s mind, doctors were all the same – authoritative and full of good advice, but as yet they had not managed to instil any degree of confidence in her. There was one exception and that was Dr Raymond Lucas, from her old home outside Liverpool. He had been a true and trusted friend, and even now Lucy valued his letters and friendship.

Interrupting her thoughts, the knock sounded on the door for the second time. ‘Come in.’ Like a rebellious child, Lucy remained seated.

The door inched open and a smiling face peeped in at her; with his cheeky grin and that ridiculous cap of thick brown hair, the doctor looked far younger than his early thirties. ‘Am I all right to come in?’ he asked gingerly. ‘Or am I likely to get my head chopped off at dawn?’ He knew Lucy well by now, and was aware that his visits were unpopular.

Lucy laughed and the atmosphere eased. ‘I’m not that much of an ogre, am I?’ she asked, shame-facedly.

‘There are those who might argue the point.’ Straightening his shoulders, he pushed open the door and sauntered in.

Lucy asked him pointedly, ‘You’re not about to put me through the grinder, are you?’

He took a deep breath. ‘I’ll do whatever’s necessary to satisfy myself that you haven’t been overdoing it.’ He peeked at her with suspicion. ‘And have you?’

‘What?’

‘Been overdoing it?’

‘I don’t think so.’ Lucy hoped he would leave before coming into contact with Elsie, who was certain to have her say on the matter.

‘Mmm.’ Slowly nodding his head, he made that peculiar sound that some doctors make when they’re not quite sure what to say. ‘Mmm … ah.’

‘You don’t believe me, do you?’

‘I don’t know what to think.’ He ventured forward. ‘And if I don’t believe you, it’s no one’s fault but your own.’

‘What do you mean by that?’

‘I mean, I need you to be honest, but sometimes you tell me one thing and do another. How am I supposed to know if you’re following my instructions when you won’t tell me the truth?’

‘Huh!’ Lucy couldn’t help but like him. ‘So now I’m a liar, am I?’

Fearing he might have got on the wrong side of her, he suggested meekly, ‘I’m sorry, Lucy, that is not what I meant at all. Perhaps we should forget the conversation so far and start again, what do you think?’

Lucy smiled her sweetest. ‘I think that’s an excellent idea.’

With a twinkle in his eye, he made the smallest bow and to Lucy’s amusement, greeted her with a bright, ‘Good morning, Mrs Davidson.’

‘Good morning, Doctor Nolan.’ Bright as a button, Lucy’s quick smile betrayed her enjoyment. ‘How very nice to see you,’ she lied beautifully.

Placing the big black bag on the bedside table, Dr Nolan opened it and took out his stethoscope. ‘And how are you today?’

‘I’m fine, thank you, Doctor.’ Unbuttoning the top of her blouse, Lucy prepared herself for the shock of the cold stethoscope against her skin.

‘Have you anything to report?’ he asked gently.

‘No, nothing.’ Sensing the game was over she replied in serious tone, ‘Everything is just the same as it was the last time you were here.’ She was determined not to reveal how her arm still hurt like the devil after trying to shift that heavy cleaner out of the cupboard, for which Elsie had rightfully given her a scolding.

‘So, no aches or pains then?’ He proceeded to examine her, discreetly ignoring Lucy’s visible shudder as the cold receptacle pressed against the flat of her chest.

Lucy shook her head. ‘No more than usual,’ she answered. ‘There are times when my joints feel as though they’ve locked together, and other times when I feel I can carry the world.’

‘No change there then?’ he said, concentrating now on the job in hand of checking her blood pressure.

‘Not really, no.’ She laughed out loud. ‘I was flattered this morning when Elsie accused me of being ambitious enough to take down curtains, and clean all the windows.’ She rolled her eyes to the ceiling. ‘Those days are long gone, more’s the pity.’

Lucy remembered the time when she could throw a pitchfork of hay on top of a wagon, or carry an injured lamb on her shoulders, but that was in another life. If she could bring it all back, she would. But it was gone, all but in her sorry heart.

A few moments later, after a thorough examination, the doctor put away his instruments and closed the bag. ‘It seems you’re no better and no worse, so you must be following my instructions after all.’

Lucy smiled triumphantly. ‘Isn’t that what I told you, Doctor?’

‘So it is,’ he replied. ‘So it is – but you need to remember you’re not the young woman you once were and your joints aren’t quite so flexible. I’m not saying you can’t do certain things – of course you can – but you must take care not to aggravate your condition. And that includes getting all hot and bothered about things.’

‘I won’t.’

‘Good.’ He wrote out a prescription. ‘Your blood pressure is slightly up. Take one of these each morning, and an hour’s rest in the afternoon. Right?’

‘Whatever you say. You’re the doctor.’

‘I’ll call again in a few days to check your blood pressure, just to be sure.’

Glad that the examination was over, Lucy relaxed. ‘Are you ready for tea and biscuits?’

‘Need you ask?’ It had become a ritual; a bit of a banter, then the examination, before tea and biscuits. He had come to look forward to it. ‘That’s the main reason I come to visit,’ the young man teased. He picked up his black bag. ‘A few quiet moments in that delightful kitchen of yours sets me up for the day.’

Inching herself off the bed, Lucy slipped her shoes on. ‘You haven’t forgotten how I like mine, have you?’

He shook his head. ‘Strong, with a little milk and two sugars.’

‘That’s it.’ She waved him away with a gesture. ‘Off you go then. You make your way down, and I’ll follow on.’

By the time Lucy arrived in the kitchen, the doctor was pouring out two cups of tea and had got out a plate of Elsie’s home-baked shortbread. ‘I can’t stay long,’ he told Lucy. ‘I must check on Maggie Craig; she’s not too far away from giving birth.’

Lucy tut-tutted. ‘That’s her eighth in as many years. If you ask me, it’s not Maggie as wants checking on, it’s her old man. Quickest way to help Maggie and cut your work down into the bargain, is to chop it off for him. That’ll give everyone a rest, won’t it?’

The doctor laughed. ‘It’s a bit drastic, don’t you think?’

Lucy shrugged. ‘He’s a selfish bugger, though. If it was him having the babies, he wouldn’t be so quick to make them.’

She thought of her dead son, little Jamie, drowned these past twenty years or more, and her heart was sore. ‘Mind you,’ she went on in a softer voice, ‘there is nothing more magical than holding a child in your arms.’

The doctor looked up to see the sadness in her eyes; he had seen it before and had been curious. Not for the first time, he sensed there was something in Lucy’s past that she was unable to let go. He might have asked, but the young man’s instinct told him Lucy would not thank him for it. So he waited until the sadness had passed, and she was smiling at him, as though everything was all right in her world.

‘I expect you have a busy day ahead of you, Doctor?’

‘I have, yes.’ Finishing his tea, he munched the last of his biscuit, and when he thought Lucy wasn’t looking, he tucked one into his jacket pocket. ‘I really must get on now,’ he excused himself. ‘Remember what I said, won’t you?’

Lucy nodded. ‘I will, yes. Thank you, Doctor, and mind you don’t crush that biscuit to crumbs in your pocket. Here.’ Taking a napkin from the drawer she gave it to him with a knowing little smile. ‘Best wrap it up in that, eh?’

Looking like a little boy caught with his hand in the sweetie jar, Dr Nolan did as he was told, and went sheepishly on his way.

Through the window Lucy watched him leave and when he was gone her gaze fell on Mary, who was walking with Ben towards the house.

‘We’re away now, Mother.’ Mary arrived to kiss Lucy cheerio. ‘Ben’s just washing the oil from his hands, then we’re off to organise the tractor.’

Lucy laughed. ‘And what do you know about tractors?’

Mary made a face. ‘Nothing,’ she admitted. ‘I know about cutting grass, about fertilising the soil, growing flowers and vegetables, plants from seed and collecting eggs from the chickens to sell at market, but that’s as far as my knowledge stretches.’ She gave her mother a curious glance. ‘What are you smiling at?’

Lucy’s memories had never jaded. She could remember Overhill Farm in the little Wirral village of Comberton by Weir as if it was yesterday, with Barney and his sons ploughing and seeding, and harvest-time, when the world was aglow with sunshine and the fields yielded their bounty. Somehow, without even knowing it, she had come to learn quite a bit about tractors and the way they worked. ‘I was just thinking,’ she said vaguely.

‘From the look on your face, they must be pleasant thoughts.’ Mary had often seen that look on her mother’s face, a look of yesteryear, sometimes sad, sometimes warm with joy, and not once had she ever felt a part of it. ‘What were you thinking about?’

‘Oh, things that happened before you were born.’

‘What things?’

Lucy was wary now. Even though Mary knew something about the secrets of the past, Lucy found it hard to discuss every little detail. ‘I was just remembering how much I seem to have learned about tractors, that’s all.’

Mary was intrigued. ‘You loved helping Daddy on the farm, didn’t you?’ How she wished she had been a part of it all. But not the heartache, not that.

Lucy didn’t get a chance to answer because now Ben was in the room, unrolling his sleeves and preparing to leave. ‘If you’re ready, we’d best be off now,’ he told Mary, and to Lucy he suggested, ‘Would you like to come with us?’

Lucy was tempted. ‘That’s very kind,’ she said, ‘but you don’t want me limping along, acting the wallflower. Besides, I’ve got things to do. You two get off and enjoy yourselves. You can tell me all about it when you get back.’

All too soon the two of them were climbing into Ben’s car, laughing and talking, and Lucy was thrilled to see them so happy and content. ‘See that, Barney?’ she murmured aloud. ‘That was you and me, in the short time we had together.’

Ravaged by emotions and memories she found difficult to cope with, Lucy went back to her room, slipped out of her shoes and lay down on the bed. Her gaze fixed on the ceiling, eyes closed, bittersweet tears trickled down her face. ‘I want you back,’ she whispered. ‘Oh Barney, even now, after twenty years, I still miss you so much. I want you back – and I know it will never happen.’

For a time her heart was unbearably heavy. When she was quiet at last, she went to the bathroom and washed her face. Afterwards, feeling fresher and more able to face another day, she went downstairs, where Elsie was covering a large pie with pastry. ‘Steak and kidney pie and mash for dinner tonight,’ she advised Lucy. ‘I’ll cover it with greaseproof paper and set it on the shelf in the pantry. Oh, and there’s apple crumble for afterwards. Won’t take a second for Mary to heat up the spuds with a knob of butter, and to boil up some custard.’

Lucy was astonished. ‘Good grief!’ She stared at the pie and then at Elsie. ‘You’ve got your skates on this morning, haven’t you?’ She glanced about the kitchen, which by now was spick and span. ‘Are you in a hurry or what?’

For a minute it seemed as though Elsie had not heard Lucy’s question, because she continued cutting the edge of the pastry to a pattern, then carried the pie to the pantry. Now she was at the sink, slapping her hands together to rid them of the flour before washing them under the tap.

Lucy spoke again. ‘Elsie! Did you hear what I said?’

‘I did, yes, and there’s no need to shout.’

‘Well then, have the manners to answer.’

The woman turned. ‘All right – then yes, I am in a hurry.’

‘Why?’

‘Things to do.’ Elsie never used many words when a few would do.

‘What things?’

Elsie carried on wiping the table. After replacing the tablecloth she looked Lucy in the eye. ‘Very well, if you must know, I’m taking Charlie to have his eyes tested.’

Lucy was open-mouthed. ‘Can’t he take himself?’

‘No.’

‘Why not? He’s a grown man with a tongue in his head, isn’t he?’

‘That’s the trouble.’

‘What?’

‘The tongue in his head. Gift o’ the gab – that’s his problem! If I’m not there to explain what’s been going on, he’ll convince the optician that he’s fine. Then there’ll be no spectacles and he’ll carry on the same as before.’

‘And what’s wrong with that? Charlie is a fine blacksmith. Surely he doesn’t need spectacles for shoeing horses?’

‘Hmh! Shows how much you know.’ Hands on hips, Elsie seemed ready for another fight. ‘Last week, Ted Willis brought his old mare into the yard for re-shoeing and Charlie put the shoe on upside down; the poor animal went away limping worse than when Ted fetched her in. If Ted hadn’t brought her back, she’d have gone lame for sure.’

Lucy thought the woman was being a bit harsh. ‘Charlie doesn’t often make a mistake like that. Does it really mean he wants marching off to the optician’s?’

Elsie bristled. ‘I think I’m the best judge of that, if yer please. And it weren’t the only time he got it wrong neither.’

‘Oh, you’ve always had a tendency to exaggerate,’ Lucy scoffed.

Elsie was indignant. ‘What about this then?’ she demanded haughtily. ‘A few days ago, Larry Barker brought his cart in for a new wheel to be put on, and when he came back to collect it, Charlie had only ruddy well changed the wrong wheel! Then the week afore that, I asked if he’d come into Bedford with me as I had a lot to carry home. We went round the shops and when we got back to the bus-stop there was a queue. When the bus arrived, blow me down if he didn’t follow Maggie Craig on, grab her shopping-bags and sit himself beside her … The silly article thought he were sitting next to me. I wouldn’t mind if she hadn’t got a backside the size of the gasworks and a gob to match!’

At first, Lucy thought she ought not to laugh. Then she began to titter and suddenly the pair of them were laughing hysterically. ‘Now you know why he needs the spectacles,’ Elsie spluttered.

And Lucy had to agree.

‘I’ve done all the chores for now,’ Elsie said finally, wiping her eyes. ‘See you same time tomorrow.’

As the little woman put on her coat, Lucy told her: ‘Be gentle with him, won’t you? I know what a bully you can be when the mood takes you.’

‘Huh!’ Elsie gave her a scornful glance. ‘Look who’s talking!’ Off she went, shoulders high and head up, muttering to herself: ‘Do this, do that … never satisfied unless she’s interfering! Besides, what does she know about my Charlie?’

‘Have you two been arguing again?’ Adam stuck his head round the back door.

Lucy swung round. ‘That woman’s getting more difficult by the day,’ she said. ‘Does as she likes and won’t listen to a word anyone says.’

Adam smiled. ‘Like someone else we know then, eh?’

Lucy laughed. ‘You’re right. I do have too much to say at times.’ Whenever she was in Adam’s company she felt content. ‘Is the car all right?’

‘Running like silk.’

‘So, you’ll be away on your errands now, will you?’

‘That was the plan,’ he answered quietly. ‘Go into Bedford and collect the curtains you ordered, then visit the Post Office and the baker’s on the way back. Then I’ve the rest of the day to put the new shelves up in the outhouse.’

‘How long will you be?’

‘I can’t say for certain. Sometimes the road gets busy, sometimes it isn’t.’ Sensing her loneliness, he asked, ‘D’you want to come with me?’

Lucy shook her head. ‘No.’

Adam knew Lucy’s every mood, and at this moment he knew he should not leave her alone with her memories. ‘There’s nothing so urgent that it can’t wait till later,’ he said softly. ‘I’ll keep you company for a while – if you want me to, that is?’

The tears still moist in her eyes, Lucy looked up. ‘Thank you, Adam, I’d like that,’ she whispered. No one alive knew her better than Adam, she thought fondly.

Relief flooded through him. When Lucy was sad, he was sad. And he was always content to be with her even if only as a friend; though one day, God willing, she might come to see him through more loving eyes.

He went over and settled himself in the chair opposite. ‘What’s wrong?’ he asked. ‘And don’t say nothing, because I know you too well.’

‘What makes you think something’s wrong?’

He smiled knowingly. ‘You’re thinking of Barney, aren’t you?’ His voice was kind.

Lucy nodded.

‘And you’ve been crying, haven’t you?’

She nodded again.

‘D’you want to talk about it?’

Drawing a deep sigh, Lucy confessed: ‘I can’t stop wondering about Barney’s other family … Vicky and the children. Lately I can’t seem to get them out of my mind, wondering where they are, and if they’re safe.’ She gave a nervous smile. ‘I won’t always be here, Adam. I’m getting old. How could I go to my Maker, with such a weight of secrets in my heart?’

Adam gave a slow, knowing nod. ‘I understand how you feel, because I, too, often think about the others. To be honest, Lucy, I’m not sure if it would be kinder for them to know how it all came about. Or would the truth ruin what small contentment they might have found?’

Adam’s concerns echoed in Lucy’s mind. ‘If they are to be told, it’s me who should do the telling. And like I say, I’m getting on now, and time is rushing by. I must soon decide one way or the other.’

The very thought of not having her around filled him with dread. ‘Don’t talk as though you’re old and decrepit because you’re not,’ he urged. ‘God willing, you and I have many more years to enjoy, before our time comes.’

For a moment Lucy reflected on his words, and as always Adam had brought a kind of quietness to her heart. ‘I hope so,’ she murmured. ‘But I can’t shut out the past, and I can’t see a way forward.’

Adam felt the same, but his first instinct had always been to protect Lucy. ‘All I’m saying is, don’t torment yourself. For all our sakes, try and let it rest. For now at least.’

Driven by doubts and guilt, Lucy reminded him, ‘Some time ago, you insisted that Mary was entitled to know the truth, and you were right. So, don’t you think they should know it, too? You say we risk ruining any contentment they may have found, but what if all these years they’ve never known peace of mind? What if the children have grown into adulthood, still carrying all the pain and anger that drove them away. And what of young Susie? Dear God, she loved her father with all of her young heart.’

Lucy recalled the powerful bond between Barney and his daughter. ‘I can’t get her out of my mind. I see the two of them sitting on the swing in the orchard, talking and laughing … happy and content in each other’s company. She was so young, Adam. She knew only what she saw and heard, and that was a shocking thing. She never knew how Barney was suffering … how much he adored her. Susie was his darling little girl, and she went away hating him …’

Her voice breaking with emotion, Lucy bowed her head. For a moment neither she nor Adam spoke, but when he reached out to lay his hand over hers, she grasped it tight, drew it to her face and held it there for a moment.

To Lucy the moment was immensely comforting. Adam was right. He knew her as no one else could. He had travelled the years with her and Barney, and when Barney was gone, he was her beacon of light through days of darkness.

Though he could never be Barney, Adam was a very special man.

When the moment was gone, she released his hand and raised her eyes to his. ‘I try, but I can’t stop thinking about them – Susie, the two boys and Vicky, that lovely gentle woman who did all she could for me and Jamie – treated us like her own family. You know how devoted she and Barney were to each other, how they lived their whole life around each other. What happened to them, to the children, was so cruel, Adam … so terrible!’

So many sunsets had come and gone since those days over twenty years ago, she thought. In her mind she cast her memory back to the time when she could run like the wind and her life was filled with sunshine and the joy of youth. But there had been pain too; such pain she had thought never to recover from it. But somehow life goes on and takes you with it, whether you want it to or not.

Later, when everything else was lost, she and Barney had known their own joy together, and though it was for such a short time, Lucy had thanked the Good Lord many times over.

After Barney had died from the heart disease that had destroyed his last few years on this earth, her life seemed desolate. But then Barney had left her with a new life: Mary, their daughter, had been her salvation. Along with her dear friend, Adam, that patient, endearing man to whom she owed so much.

‘Sometimes I think I’m the luckiest woman in the world.’ Speaking her thoughts in a whisper, she hardly even noticed that Adam was beside her.

‘Lucy?’ Adam’s quiet voice invaded her thoughts. ‘What are you thinking?’

She looked up at him, her quiet eyes bathing his face. ‘I was just thinking how Barney and I had so little time together. The days went all too swiftly, and even when we were making love and Mary was conceived, I always knew it was Vicky he needed, and not me.’ Her smile was bittersweet. ‘I didn’t mind, not really. I would rather have had that small part of him, than live all of my life without him.’

Adam had never heard Lucy talk of her relationship with Barney in that particular, intimate way. He felt embarrassed and humbled, yet proud that she felt able to impart such a confidence to him.

Suddenly she had his face cradled in her hands, her warm blue eyes hinting a smile. ‘I’m sorry.’

Relaxed in her gaze, he asked, ‘Why should you be sorry?’

‘I’ve been insensitive … talking of private moments with Barney, when I know how you feel towards me.’

Adam did not want her to reproach herself, and so he led her away from that place. ‘Have you always known how much I love you?’

Lucy’s smile was radiant. ‘You were never very good at hiding it.’

‘Did you think I was foolish?’

‘Never! Besides, I always loved you back. But not in the way I loved Barney.’

Adam’s face crumpled in a smile. ‘It’s an odd world,’ he said. ‘I love you; you loved Barney; and he loved Vicky. The eternal triangle.’

Letting go of him, Lucy sat back in her seat. ‘We can’t help the way we feel,’ she answered.

With her touch still tingling on his skin, Adam waited a moment, before in a spurt of boldness he asked, ‘Marry me?’

Momentarily taken aback, Lucy was about to answer, when he stopped her. ‘You said just now you loved me, though I accept it could never be like it was with Barney. But I’ve never loved anyone else and never could. Think about it, Lucy. We’re so good together. We can talk easily to each other …’

There was so much he wanted to say. ‘We’ve known some wonderful times, Lucy,’ he remarked thoughtfully. ‘Some good, some bad. But we’ve lived through them together, always supporting each other. We make each other laugh, we’re content and easy in each other’s company. What more could we ask, at our time of life? And I’ll always take care of you, Lucy. You know that.’

Lost for words, she took a moment to consider what he was saying. This was not the first time Adam had proposed, and she suspected it would not be the last. But this time there was a kind of desperation about his boldness, and it made her ashamed.

‘Oh Lucy, I’m so sorry.’ Wishing he had kept his silence, Adam was concerned that he had turned her against him. ‘Now I’ve spoiled everything, haven’t I?’

Lucy put his fears to rest. ‘No, you haven’t, you darling man. We’ve always understood each other, and we’ve always been able to speak our minds. That will never change. You’ll always be very special to me.’

‘But you won’t marry me?’

‘I can’t.’

‘Never?’

Lucy had learned to count her life in minutes and weeks. ‘Never is a long time.’

Sensing a kind of acceptance, Adam thought it wise to back away from the subject of marriage. ‘I won’t mention it again.’

Lucy chuckled. ‘Yes, you will.’

‘Do you want me to?’

Loth to mislead him, she made a suggestion. ‘Why don’t we just leave things as they are for now? When I have a change of mind, I’ll be sure to tell you. Agreed?’ She held out her hand for him to hold.

Adam was thrilled. Lucy had said, ‘when I have a change of mind’.

That was his first real glimpse of hope. ‘Agreed!’ Reaching out, he took hold of her hand and kept it clasped in his for a moment longer than necessary, until Lucy gave him one of those reprimanding, twinkling looks that turned his toes up and set his old heart racing.

The conversation took another direction. ‘Lucy …’ He hesitated. ‘Will you let me take you back?’

‘Back?’ She knew what he meant, but could not bring herself to acknowledge it. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Back there … to Jamie.’ Before she could protest, he went on, ‘For your own peace of mind, you must go back. Do you think I don’t know how it haunts you? Sometimes, when your mind wanders, I know you’re thinking of him, reliving that night, remembering every little detail. I feel your pain, Lucy. You need to be there. It isn’t enough that you’ve arranged to have his grave looked after, and no, Bridget did not tell me about that. She didn’t have to.’

Lucy felt the weight of his every word. ‘Are you judging me?’ she whispered.

Adam shook his head. ‘I would never judge you, you know that,’ he assured her. ‘We all need to deal with things in different ways. I knew you could never come away and not have someone look after Jamie’s resting-place. Bridget was the obvious choice; she’s loyal and honest, and she thinks of you as family.’

Lucy gave a wistful smile. ‘She’s always been there for me, and now she’s there for little Jamie. I owe her so much.’

‘I know that. And it’s a good arrangement, but it isn’t the same, is it? Forgive me, Lucy, but anyone can pay weekly visits and place the flowers there, and I know Bridget is a long and loyal friend, but she is not his mother. You are.’

Pausing a moment, he then went on in softer tone, ‘I know how, deep down, you long to go back. Let me take you, Lucy. Please! Let me do that much for you at least?’

‘I can’t!’

‘Why not?’

For a long moment Lucy lapsed into silence, her mind alive with the past, then in a fearful voice she asked, ‘What do you think happened to Edward Trent?’

Adam snorted with disgust. ‘We can only hope and pray he’s already got his comeuppance. A man like that must incur enemies and loathing wherever he goes.’

‘Why do you think they never caught him after … after he …’ Her voice broke.

‘Because like all rats he knows all the dark places where he can scurry away and hide.’

‘Do you think he’s still alive?’

Adam shook his head. ‘Who knows? If there’s any justice, he’ll be rotting in the fires of Hell where he belongs!’

When now, Lucy turned away, her face cold and set with loathing, he asked tenderly, ‘Let me take you back, my darling. It might help to lay the ghosts.’

But Lucy would not be persuaded. ‘I don’t want to talk about it any more,’ she replied quietly.

Realising that Lucy had put up the barriers and he had no chance of getting close, Adam departed, leaving her to ponder on what he’d said.

Strolling to the dresser, Lucy held Barney’s photograph and for a time she looked at his familiar face, the strong set of his jaw, the light in those wonderful eyes, and the boyish, mischievous smile that played about his mouth. A sigh rippled through her body. So much to think about. So much guilt. And what about Vicky and the others? Should she write to them, or should she leave well alone?

The thought of revealing Barney’s long-held secret was almost unbearable. Lucy asked him: ‘How can I tell her how you put yourself through Hell, so she and your children could have peace of mind and security?’

She lingered a moment longer, tracing the profile of his face with the tip of her finger, and turning the whole idea over in her mind. ‘If the truth must be told, I pray they will find the strength to deal with it,’ she whispered.

As she walked away, Lucy turned back to the photo one last time. She thought of those on the other side of the Atlantic, and at last she knew what must be done. ‘I know I will have to tell them, Barney,’ she said out loud, ‘and I know it will come as a terrible shock. If I had it in my power, I would make it less painful for them.’ Her heart sank. ‘But it’s not.’

Squaring her shoulders, she searched inside herself for an answer, but there was none. ‘They would need to find the strength to live with it.’ The smallest hint of bitterness shaped her words. ‘Just as we did, all those long years ago.’

Outside, Elsie was chatting with the coalman, conveniently forgetting she was in a rush and making him chuckle as always. ‘I saw you in front as you came down the lane,’ she told him. ‘I might have begged a lift only you were too far away.’

A bumbling, homely sort with a wonky shoulder got from years of carrying heavy bags, the coalman joked, ‘So you don’t mind your arse being covered in coaldust then?’

‘Not really, no,’ Elsie replied. ‘I might tell yer, I’ve had worse than that in my time. But I’ve never had a ride in a coalcart.’

‘An’ would you enjoy two grown men fighting over yer?’

‘Hmh? That’ll be the day’

‘What would your Charlie say, if I let you sit on my cart?’

Elsie laughed. ‘I’ve no idea, but I’m willing if you are.’

‘I’d watch what you say if I were you.’ The coalman gave a naughty wink. ‘There’s many a man might take advantage of a remark like that.’

‘You behave yerself, Bert Peters!’ Elsie chided. ‘I’m too old in the tooth to be flirting with the likes of you – and besides, if I were to pounce on you now, you’d run a mile. Don’t deny it!’

Bert roared with laughter. ‘Aye, an’ if you were to pounce on me now, I’d more likely collapse. I’ve carried that many bags o’ coal today, me legs ’ave gone.’

Back in Knudsden House, Lucy heard their shrieks of laughter echo across the valley, and couldn’t help but smile. The world might be crumbling round your ears, she thought, but somehow, life went on.

Her thoughts returned to what Adam had said earlier, and her mind was made up.

Suddenly she knew what she must do. She looked up to the heavens, a deep yearning for peace flooding her heart. ‘I will go back and face the demons,’ she declared. ‘Maybe then, I can find some kind of peace.’

It would not be easy, she knew that. It had been a lifetime since she had travelled that particular road. When she left that familiar and much-loved place, she left behind a wealth of laughter, sun-filled days and happiness. The pain she took with her, for it had never gone away.

Her train of thought turned to the monster who had snuffed out her baby’s life.

‘Edward Trent, may you rot in Hell for what you did! You murdered your own son!’

She had no idea where he was. After the tragedy he had fled into the darkness of the night, and was never heard of again.

Many times over the years, Lucy had prayed that, somehow, he had been made to pay for the evil thing he did.

In the beginning, the hatred had eaten into her very soul, but now as the years caught up with her, after World War Two had changed everybody’s lives forever, she had learned not to let it rule her life. By contrast, with the passing of time, memories of Barney and the personal sacrifice he had made grew ever stronger; as did the need to put things right before it was too late.

She thought of how it had been, and her heart was sore. ‘I’m going back, Barney,’ she murmured. ‘Then I’m going to tell it all, to try and bring a measure of peace to Vicky, and the children.’

First, though, there was someone she needed to see.