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Authors: Josephine Cox

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After keeping the news to herself for too long, she now confessed, ‘Pauline has offered me a job. Nothing much and it won’t pay a fortune. It’s just now and then, helping behind the bar, or cleaning the tables, or whatever else I want to do.’

‘Oh, did she now?’ With an animal-like growl, Phil flattened the palm of his hand and brought it hard across the side of her face, with such
force that she fell into the wall. ‘So! The pair of you have been plotting, have you? Well, you can tell her from me, your place is here, at home where you belong!’

Grabbing a hank of her hair he jolted her up, roughly steadying her when she seemed to slump in his arms. ‘Did you hear that? Shall I say it again?
I will never let you work behind a bar … with men leering at you
.’

Digging his fingertips
under her chin he forced her to look at him, his face a picture of evil as he promised in a harsh whisper, ‘I’d rather finish you here and now, than let you do that.’

Throwing her down again, he watched her for what seemed an age, his face dripping with sweat and his fists clenching and unclenching as he fought with his demons. Mesmerised, he watched the blood from her nose trickling onto the
frayed cloth beneath her head. He saw her squirming and sobbing, and his heart was hard like iron.

As though in a trance he began swaying. ‘Whore!’ He said it over and over again. ‘You whore …’

When, growing silent, she peered up at him, his moment of lunacy began to subside.

‘Oh, my Judy.’ He fell to his knees and stroked her face, holding her as she began to tremble uncontrollably, her arms
folded across her head as though ready to fend off possible blows.

‘Judy.’ He wrapped his two arms about her, crying out when she flinched with pain. ‘Ssh. I won’t hurt you no more, but it’s
your
fault! You made me angry, talking like that. You know I can’t let you go to work, and yet you still keep on and on about it. You’re playing with my head, Judy.’

Closing his eyes, he gave a small cry
of anguish. ‘You ought not to do that.’

One minute he was talking to her as he might talk to a child, and in the next he was sobbing uncontrollably. ‘I love you so much … oh, my sweet girl, I can’t stand the thought of any other man touching you!’

When his grip tightened she tried her best to fight him off, but his manic strength was too much; his big, muscular arms were like an iron band around
her chest, so much so that her fear of suffocation was very real.

Now he was pulling her up, with such incredible ease, she could have been a rag doll. ‘It’s all right … ssh, Judy. Ssh.’

With immense love and care he took her to the bathroom, where he washed her face and combed her hair, and Judy merely stood and let him do it, for if she were to complain, it would mean another beating.

So
she was the ‘good little girl’ again; a role she had learned well, while trapped in a vicious circle of love and hatred.

Afterwards, knowing what he planned, she pleaded with him, ‘Leave me now, Phil, I don’t want to … Please, I hurt too much.’ Smiling, he carried her into the bedroom, where he laid her down in the gentlest manner and then, without any thought for her, he furiously and viciously
gratified himself, while at the same time professing his love.

‘Don’t fight me, Judy,’ he warned. ‘I need you.’

Time and again he murmured in her ear, ‘You belong to me, now and for always.’

When he was satisfied, he sat back on his haunches, smiling down on her tearful face. ‘Look at me!’ He slid his hand beneath her face and tenderly but deliberately shifted her head so she was facing him,
though she did not look at him. Instead she turned her gaze to the wall.

‘Judy, look at me.’

She kept her eyes averted. To look at him would defile her all over again.

‘Hmh! Sulking again,’ he mumbled, climbing off the bed. ‘Get yourself ready now,’ he instructed in a matter-of fact voice. ‘I’ve decided to let you have your sofa. So hurry up, there’s a good girl. It’ll be your fault if we’re
too late for the sale.’

‘I thought you had a game of darts down the pub this afternoon?’ Judy crossed her fingers behind her back. ‘You told me you had some kind of competition coming up and you needed to get
in plenty of practice. I really don’t mind.’ She was desperate. ‘I can always take Pauline to look at the sofa.’

He laughed at that. ‘You don’t think I’d let
her
go with you, do you?’ he
asked. ‘Especially after she had the nerve to offer you a job.’

‘It was me that asked her.’

Astonished, he swung round. ‘You never said that! You said she offered you a job – that’s what you said.’

‘Well, it was a bit of both really, but it doesn’t matter now, does it?’

‘Too right. The idea was a non-starter from the off.’

Judy tried another tack. After meeting Kathleen, she had hatched a
secret plan, but it had plainly backfired, and this time it was not herself she feared for; it was Harry. ‘You’re right, Phil. You’re always right.’ Flattery usually did the trick.

‘Right about what?’

‘About the sofa being good for a while longer yet.’

She had been all kinds of a fool to think he might agree to her going alone.

Reaching out, he pulled her effortlessly to the edge of the bed,
grabbed her legs and swung her round until her feet touched the floor. ‘Don’t argue with me!’ he warned. ‘I’ve told you, my mind is made up. I want you to have a new sofa. Now do as I ask, and get ready. Or do I have to get cross with you again?’

Without another word he snatched up the clothes he had so wantonly thrown aside, then he went into the bathroom and washed.

When he was dressed, he
stood by the door until she got off the bed and made her way towards the bathroom. ‘Good girl.’ Pleased that he had won the day, he stepped aside to let her pass. ‘I knew you’d see it my way in the end.’

While Judy set about getting ready, he took a deep breath and congratulated himself on his authority. ‘Women, eh?’ He chuckled to himself. ‘They have to know who’s boss, or they’ll make your
life a downright, bloody misery.’

Digging into his pocket, he took out a packet of cigarettes. Inside the packet there were two matches rolled up in a tissue. He took one out, struck it on the sole of his shoe, and lit the cigarette. He then sucked in a long deep mouthful, which he blew out in a series of perfectly formed rings. He watched the rings float and wobble and finally dissipate altogether,
then laughed out loud. ‘You haven’t lost it, Phil m’ lad,’ he chortled. ‘You still haven’t lost it.’

A few moments later, Judy emerged. She had done her best to
hide the weals and marks on her face and neck, but however much cream and powder she had plastered on, the faint shadows of his brutality were still there.

Cupping her chin between his finger and thumb, he turned her head this way and
that. ‘I can still see the bruises. Can’t you disguise them a bit better than that?’

‘No.’ In truth she didn’t care if the whole world was to see them, but not Harry. She did not want Harry to know how low she had sunk.

Almost as though he had read her thoughts he said quietly, ‘Sit down.’

‘Why?’

‘Because I said so, and because we don’t want everyone seeing your poor little face.’ He gave
her a shove towards the dressing-table stool. ‘Sit down … now!’

Judy argued that she had done her level best to hide the marks, but as always he believed he knew better. ‘Sit!’ Thrusting her into the chair, he went to the bathroom, returning a moment later with her cosmetics bag. ‘I could do a better job than you, with gloves on and my eyes shut.’ Throwing open the bag, he tipped the contents
onto the bed. ‘Now then, let me see. What have we got here?’

After meticulously tending her face to disguise the results of his wicked handiwork, he replaced the cream and powder, together with the dark foundation she rarely used, and which she had meant to throw out. ‘Now, look in the mirror.’

Judy noted how he had plastered a thick coat of foundation over her skin, then with a layer of powder
on top he had managed to disguise the damage; though in the process he had made her look like a tart off the streets. ‘It’s too thick,’ she objected. ‘You’ve put too much on. I look hideous!’

‘Nonsense.’ He kissed the back of her neck. ‘Not to me you don’t, and it doesn’t matter what other men think. Now shift yourself. You’ve kicked up a great fuss about wanting this sofa, so let’s get on with
it. I’ve got better things to be doing with my time than hanging about in shops.’

‘Honestly, Phil, I know how you love your darts, so why not let me go on my own?’ she offered. ‘I promise I’ll go straight there and straight back.’

His answer was to shove her across the room and out the door. ‘Thought you’d got me there, did you, eh?’ he chuckled. ‘Hoped I was about to turn you loose, did you?’

‘I’m only trying to be fair to us both,’ she protested. ‘You could go to your darts practice, and it would be really nice if I could choose the sofa myself. If you come along, you’ll only argue with me over colour and such. In the end we’ll probably get something you choose, and I won’t like it. Please, Phil. I’ll be better off on my own. Besides, I know exactly what I’m looking for.’

‘The darts
practice can wait,’ he answered slyly. ‘Besides, with you wandering about and my money burning a hole in your pocket, who knows what you might get up to. Look – I’m coming with you, and that’s an end to it. After all, I need to make sure you keep your eyes on the sofas, and not on any man that might take a fancy to you.’

‘I have no interest in other men, you know that.’ Yet, always at the back
of her mind and part of the reason she wanted to go to Jacobs’ Emporium, was the news that Kathleen had given her; the unbelievable, wonderful news that Harry was working there.

In her deepest heart, she desperately wanted to see him.

Having noticed the advert for the sale, she had thought to use the old sofa as her excuse for going there. All she wanted was to maybe just catch sight of him
– just to see him again, with her own eyes. To see how he had turned out; whether he still bore any resemblance to that wonderful, good-looking boy she had fallen in love with, and whom she had never stopped loving through every minute of every day since he’d been gone.

Every time Phil used and hurt her while making what he termed as ‘love’, the only way she could get through it, was to imagine
it was Harry holding her; Harry with his mouth on hers; Harry who was whispering in her ear.

But then, the Harry she had known would hold her more gently. He would not bruise her lips with his hard, spiteful kisses, and if he whispered in her ear it would be with soft, loving words, not filthy innuendoes and promises of the perverted things Phil planned to do to her.

Her heart was aching with
the need to see Harry again, but her head was telling her that the worst thing that could happen was for Harry and Phil to come face to face, and now that her plan had gone wrong, she was caught in a trap.

Trying every which way to worm out of it, she suggested now, ‘Maybe we’d best leave it for another day, eh? I’m not feeling so well. Like I said, there will always be other sales, and other
places we can try.’

Bringing her to a halt, he gave her a suspicious look. ‘What are you up to?’

‘For pity’s sake, Phil! How many times do you want me to say it? I’m not up to anything!’ If only he knew what was really on her mind, she thought.

He grinned. ‘All right, I believe you, but thousands wouldn’t.’ He slid his arms round her waist. ‘Now, let’s go and choose this damned sofa, and then
maybe a man can get a bit of peace round here, eh?’

Outside, Judy climbed into the car, while Phil walked round to the driver’s side. In the rear-view mirror she saw him stop to talk with a neighbour; a man some years younger than Phil who loved to party, rolling home legless at all hours of the day and night. ‘Another pea out of the same rotten pod,’ she muttered.

She could hear them laughing,
and her hatred of Phil Saunders was never more alive than it was in that moment. ‘I have to leave you,’ she whispered. ‘Somehow, I have to find the courage to go where you will never find me.’

Over the years she had said that same thing time and again. But here she still was, and here she would probably stay. I expect you’ll kill me one day, she thought, resigned. One terrible day, or in the
middle of the night, when you’re out of your mind, you’ll go too far, and you will kill me.

Right now though, with her life stretching out before her like a grim punishment, the prospect of leaving this world did not seem so terrible.

A
MY’S FAMILIAR GIGGLE
echoed through the store. ‘Harry Blake! That’s the biggest piece of cake I have ever seen. Are you trying to get me fat or what?’ Taking a sizeable bite out of the huge slice of Victoria sponge, she licked the cream off her lips. ‘Mmm. That is so scrumptious!’

She offered Harry a bite, but he graciously refused. ‘Kathleen has gone completely mad about
baking,’ he said. ‘There’s more cake in her pantry than I’ve ever seen in one place, and she truly expects me and Tom to finish off the lot.’

‘Good old Kathleen, eh?’ Spluttering crumbs of cake as she spoke, Amy went on, ‘My mam could not bake a cake to save her life, and neither can I.’

‘I asked Kathleen to cut an extra big piece because it’s your birthday today,’ Harry explained.

Suddenly,
Amy looked up and there was Kathleen herself. ‘Ooh, look! Here’s the very woman, and she’s brought your son to see you.’ She recognised Kathleen and Tom from the previous time they had come to the store.

Quickly wiping the cream from her face, Amy smiled as they approached. ‘Your cake is delicious – thank you so much.’ She grinned down at Tom. ‘Who’s a clever Kathleen, eh?’ she asked in a baby
voice. ‘I bet you couldn’t bake a cake like this.’

‘Yes, I could,’ he declared, puffing out his little chest. ‘I made a biscuit at school with green icing and pink buttons and everything.’

‘That’s true,’ Harry said. ‘What’s more, it tasted wonderful.’ He and Kathleen exchanged glances, with Kathleen smiling at his tender lies.

Breaking away from Kathleen, Tom ran straight into his daddy’s arms.
‘Hello, Daddy!’ He planted the sloppiest kiss on Harry’s face. ‘Kathleen wants a new table-runny, so we have to go shopping, and we need to get some shiny black wellies for me.’

While Harry and his son continued to chat a moment longer, Phil Saunders was ushering Judy in through the front door. ‘You didn’t tell me they were selling records and LPs at half price.’ His attention was drawn to the
long table, heaving with sheet music, gramophones and records of all types. ‘You go and look at the sofas,’ he suggested, striding away, ‘while I see if there’s anything here that takes my fancy.’ He liked to give the impression that he had an educated knowledge of music, when apart from being tone-deaf, he had no real interest in it.

Left alone by the door, Judy looked around; she was worried
in case Harry was here, and even more worried that he might not be. Now, when she heard male laughter and saw him throwing the small boy in the air, making him squeal with delight, her heart leaped. Oh, my God! she thought. It really
is
him!

A great sense of joy swept through her. She felt nervous and excited all at the same time. Tears filled her eyes as her senses drank in the man that was
Harry, the man who had been her first sweetheart, love for whom she had always carried deep in her heart, through thick and thin.

She was aching to speak with him, yet fearing the consequences if she did. She wanted to call his name and run to him, to hear his voice and look in his eyes, but then she saw Phil and the bubble burst. Bending forward to examine a cabinet-mounted gramophone, he had
no concept of her dilemma, nor of the fact that his deadliest enemy, Harry Blake, was standing just a short distance from him.

Judy was grateful to have his attention diverted onto something else. Her emotions torn in every direction, she stood there for what seemed an age, delighting in watching Harry with his son. ‘Oh, Harry!’ she whispered. ‘So many times I prayed you might come and find me,
but you never did.’

She could not blame him for that. ‘You’re here now though; all grown up into an amazing man, with a son of your own. Where have you been all these years?’ She had so many questions, so much she wanted to tell him, with a heart full of love and a need for him to take her in his arms and hold her there, where she could never be hurt again.

Look at you, she thought. Look at
how you’ve turned out. The sigh she gave was from deep down. You’re close enough for me to touch, and yet I mustn’t. I daren’t.

Recalling the manner in which they had parted, another thought crossed her mind.
Would you even want me to?

Afraid he might suddenly glance up and see her there, she wanted to move away, to get Phil and herself as far from here as possible. But her feet seemed glued
to the floor, and her whole being cried out for Harry to see her, to want her, to help her be strong. Like a schoolgirl, she wanted him to sweep her off her feet and carry her away.

‘Silly fool, Judy!’ she chided herself softly. ‘You had your chance and you threw it away. It’s too late now. No good will come of wanting what you can’t have.’

She forced herself to face the truth. Thanks to her
lies, Harry Blake had been lost to her a long time ago. But then, she reminded herself, it was not altogether her fault.

Someone else must carry the blame
.

Someone who betrayed her trust. Someone she would loathe and despise for as long as she lived.

While she was watching Harry, she saw Phil out of the corner of her eye. Horrified to see him heading straight to the counter where Harry was
saying cheerio to Tom and Kathleen, she waved her arm to catch his attention.

To her immense relief, her husband turned and saw her. Shifting direction, he made his way towards her. Knowing he would follow, Judy went at full stride in the other direction, towards the furniture display.

‘What the devil are you playing at?’ he demanded, coming alongside. ‘Where are you off to now? Don’t tell me
you’ve been standing by the door all the time I was gone.’

‘I was just looking about,’ Judy replied casually. ‘Seeing what was on offer.’ She glanced at the box in his hand. ‘Found something interesting, have you?’ She guessed he would not come back with records or other music paraphernalia.

‘It’s a camera,’ he answered. ‘A real bargain.’

‘You’ve already got a camera,’ she reminded him.

He
was instantly prickly. ‘What? So now you’re telling me I’m only allowed one camera?’

She knew he was trying to draw her into another argument. ‘You can have as many cameras as you please,’ she said tiredly. ‘It’s none of my business.’

‘Too right it’s none of your business. Besides which, it’s my money, so I can buy whatever I please. You need to remember that.’

It was on the tip of her tongue
to say she was sorry, but she stopped herself. She was
not
sorry. She was sick to her stomach of his petty sniping and bad temper. It was odd, but seeing Harry
again seemed to have given her a certain strength of mind; a fleeting reason to believe in herself.

Phil drew her attention to the sofas. ‘I like this one,’ he said, seeing a cheaply-priced sofa with thin material and flimsy legs. He lowered
himself into it. ‘It’s comfy enough,’ he stated, ‘and cheap into the bargain. We’ll take this one.’

Judy wasn’t listening. Her attention had involuntarily strayed to where Harry was now tending a customer. Lingering on, Kathleen was chatting to Amy, while at the same time pulling up Tom’s bedraggled socks.

‘Hey!’ Phil called for her attention. ‘Are you listening to me or what?’

Startled, Judy
quickly sat down beside him. ‘I was just looking,’ she said, ‘seeing if there were other sofas.’

‘No need for that,’ he declared confidently. ‘Not now I’ve found this one. I reckon it’s exactly what we want.’

Judy stood up. ‘It’s not what
I
want though, Phil.’

‘Why not?’ He gave her a curious look. ‘Go on then, what’s wrong with it?’

‘It’s cheap and nasty and it won’t wear well, so before
too long you’ll be having to buy another, but if you don’t mind wasting good hard-earned money, that’s up to you. It’s your wages, after all.’ As he loved to remind her. ‘Besides, the colour is too much like the old one.’

Dark reddish, with brown undertones, it seemed to suck in the light. ‘I thought it would be nice to have something bright and cheerful for a change.’ While she spoke she was
conscious of Harry being in the same room, and every time Phil looked away for a brief moment, she snatched that moment to peek at Harry.

Married to one and loving another. What a mess I’ve made of my life, she thought.

Astonishingly, and because he knew Judy was right that it would not last five minutes, Phil offered grudgingly, ‘All right then, choose another, but remember I’m not made of
money, so don’t get carried away. Oh, and be quick about it. I’ve got things to do.’

Easing himself up from the sofa, he dug out a cigarette from his pocket and hung it on the end of his lips. Having located a match in his other pocket, he strode off. ‘Get a move on!’ he commanded her. ‘I’ll be outside. Come and find me when you’re done.’

Once he was safely out of sight, Judy moved to a quiet
corner, from where she could see Harry quite clearly. Just to look at his face and see him smile, gave her a warm, safe feeling.

She watched him shake hands with a customer, and then saw the customer go over to the counter where the girl assistant dealt with the payment of his purchase.

She then saw Harry go to a bunch of balloons advertising the sale; he carefully broke one off and handed it
to his little boy, who was so excited he started running in circles with it.

While Harry went away to help a young couple who were after a set of curtains, she saw Kathleen walk into the department, Tom following behind her, flying his balloon and having great fun swinging it about in the air.

Careful not to let Kathleen see her, Judy shrank back into the corner. She thought Harry’s son was
a credit to him, blessed with his daddy’s strong capable build, and a face carved with good looks and character. While she continued to watch him, she thought of her own child, and was racked with guilt.

The nearer Kathleen and Tom got, the more nervous she felt. As soon as they were gone past, she meant to leave the store and tell Phil she could not find a sofa she liked.

From her hiding-place,
she heard Kathleen talking to the boy, and felt guilty that she had been too much of a coward to step out and greet that delightful old friend.

The decision to leave was taken out of her hands when suddenly the balloon came floating by, and above the sound of young Tom’s distressed cries, Kathleen’s familiar voice carried through the air. ‘Don’t you worry, I’ll find it, so I will. Now then, stop
that awful noise and tell me … where did it fly off to?’

When the balloon landed on a shelf above Judy’s head, and realising she was bound to be discovered, Judy caught hold of the string and stepped out, just as Kathleen rounded the corner.

The Irish woman was flabbergasted. ‘Well, I never!’ She laughed with delight. ‘Sure, if it isn’t the girl herself.’ Stretching out her chubby arms, she
clasped Judy in a firm embrace. ‘Oh, me little darlin’, it’s lovely to see you, so it is.’ Holding her at arm’s length, she smiled into Judy’s eyes.

‘It’s lovely to see you too,’ Judy replied, and that was the absolute truth.

But Kathleen gave no answer, for she had seen something that alarmed her. ‘What have ye done to yer pretty face? Sure it’s looking a bit bruised – have you had mishap of
sorts, pet?’ All manner of suspicions ran through her mind.

Taken aback by Kathleen’s remark, Judy retreated into the shadows. ‘It’s nothing,’ she lied, ‘I tried out some new face powder
and it’s caused my skin to go a bit blotchy, that’s all, but the blotches have almost gone now, thank goodness.’

Visibly shaking, she handed the balloon to Tom, who had been hopping up and down impatiently.
‘There you are, sweetheart.’ Then she mumbled to Kathleen, ‘I’ve been looking at sofas but they don’t have what I want, so I’d best be off now.’

Afraid that she had frightened Judy away with her comment about her bruised face, Kathleen took her by the hand. ‘You’re not here just for a sofa, are you?’ she asked caringly.

‘Why do you say that?’

Kathleen gave a wink. ‘You came here to get a peek
at Harry, did you not?’ Her quick smile was encouraging.

Judy had an urge to deny it, but instead she nodded. ‘Just a peek,’ she whispered. ‘Nothing more.’

From across the room where Harry was just finishing with the couple, he was surprised to see that Kathleen and Tom were still in the store. ‘Can you deal with these customers?’ he murmured to Amy. ‘They’ve decided on the curtains that are
out on display.’

‘Right away,’ Amy said, and to the customers: ‘We’re not allowed to get the curtains down off display, so while we’re waiting for one of the men to fetch some from the warehouse, would you like a cup of tea?’

Harry was straining his eyes to see who Kathleen was talking to. There was something about the slim young woman with the shoulder-length fair hair … Somewhere in his deepest
memory, an image emerged, of a girl named Judy.

He dismissed the feeling as ridiculous, but it was deeply unnerving.

The truth began to dawn on him when Kathleen turned to look at him in a particular way, with a proud little grin on her face that said, ‘Look who I’ve found – it’s our Judy, come to see you.’

At first he dared not let himself believe it. ‘It can’t be!’ he whispered. But somehow,
he knew it was her. He just knew! And every nerve in his body was screaming with excitement, and terror. ‘Judy?’ he murmured. Her name fell so easily from his lips.

Almost in a daze, he started towards her.

As he came nearer, her smile wrapped itself around him, until he could hardly breathe. Observing her, he took in every little detail. She had changed, and yet she was the same. Slightly taller
and slimmer, she seemed so delicate, and he did not know what he would say to her.

Judy stood motionless, watching him, loving him, and willing
him towards her. Then she glanced at the door. Remembing what Phil had done to her face, she began to panic. There was bad blood between Phil and Harry, and there was no telling what a madman like Phil would do if he saw her talking to the ‘enemy’.

‘Tell Harry I’ll see him again – sometime,’ she told Kathleen. ‘I have to go.’ In a lower voice she confided, ‘Phil’s waiting outside.’

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