Journey's End (22 page)

He paused to get his thoughts in order. ‘But I can see it from
your children’s viewpoint as well. I think, from the minute he hurt you, they were made to grow up fast. They had to shut him out of their lives. They had to protect you, because now there was no one else to do it. It was Barney who, for all the brave reasons in the world, forced them into that position, and knowing why he did it makes them resentful and angry.’

He was loth to say it, but he
had to finish. ‘Maybe they will never forgive him.’

‘Then I will never forgive
them
!’

Not wishing to end the conversation on a harsh note, Vicky changed the subject, by directing a question at Ben and Mary. ‘So, there’s a wedding in the air, is there?’

Mary blushed deep red. ‘Ben asked me to marry him and I said yes. We’re planning for it to be in early spring next year … maybe Easter-time.’

‘Oh Mary, that’s wonderful!’ Vicky drank the remainder of her wine and holding up her glass for Adam to refill, she announced, ‘Here’s to Mary and Ben, and a wedding next spring!’

Everyone drank to that and Mary told Vicky, ‘I want you all to be there, you and Susie and your sons Thomas and Ronnie.’ She hesitated. ‘And, of course, Mr Maitland.’

Vicky was embarrassed and it showed. ‘I don’t think
Leonard will be there, my darling, and if my children don’t have a change of heart, I can’t promise they’ll be there either.’ She put on a bright smile. ‘But I will! Hell and high water would not keep me away.’

Lucy had been recalling Vicky’s previous conversation, and one thing in particular was puzzling her. ‘What about Ronnie?’ she asked now.

Vicky seemed puzzled. ‘What about him?’

‘You
mentioned how Thomas and Susie had been angry at the way their father tricked them about his illness … making them believe he had turned bad. But you never mentioned Ronnie. You never said how
he
took the news.’

Vicky paused, her heart aching at the way her children had reacted. ‘I don’t know how Ronnie took the news,’ she confessed. ‘He simply looked shocked, then he walked out of the house
and never came back.’

‘What? You mean you haven’t spoken to him? You don’t know where he is?’ Only now did Lucy realise what chaos she had caused by sending that letter. ‘Dear God, I’m so sorry.’

‘Don’t be,’ Vicky sighed. ‘You have nothing whatsoever to be sorry about.’ She gave Lucy an encouraging smile, but then it slipped away as she spoke of her younger son. ‘Ronnie has been a bit of a loner
since we left these shores. You know he adored Barney, and somehow he’s never been able to come to terms with everything. But he’ll come round. He’ll go away and curl up in some dark corner and he’ll take time out to think about it all. He’ll be all right. Susie will find him. She always does.’

Adam also recalled how close Ronnie had been to his father; how the two of them would sit on the hill
and talk for ages. Thomas was the worker; Ronnie was the thinker, the poet, the one who was more like Barney inside than any of them.

‘Maybe, when you get back, Ronnie will be there,’ he told her, ‘waiting to confide in you. If I remember, he always found it hard to talk to anyone about his feelings – anyone, that is, except Barney.’

Vicky decided to reveal her intentions. ‘He’ll have to wait
a while longer then,’ she confided, ‘because I’m not going home just yet. In fact, I won’t be going home for quite a while. As already arranged with Lucy, I shall be leaving the day after tomorrow. But I won’t be going back to Southampton. Instead, I’ll be taking the train to Liverpool. There are places I need to go, people I need to catch up with.’

Mary was curious. ‘How long will you stay?’

‘Weeks, months, I haven’t decided yet.’

Lucy was astounded. ‘Won’t Leonard be worried? And what about the children? Surely they need you?’

Vicky was adamant. ‘Then they will have to be disappointed.’ Seeing how her news had shocked them all, she explained, ‘Since the day they were born, I’ve been there for them. And so was Barney. We taught them everything, how to respect other people and have
compassion. Be honest and hard-working, and always be on hand for family, because family is the most precious gift you will ever know.’

As she went on, her voice shook with emotion. ‘Instead of being angry with their father, they should be grateful, but they’re not. Somewhere along the way I must have gone wrong, because my children now seem to think everything revolves around
them.
But it doesn’t!
And now they expect me to share their anger, but I can’t. They’re being selfish. They aren’t considering
my
feelings in this at all. They were not there for me, so I’m afraid I can’t be there for them, not this time. They have each other, and I desperately need to spend time alone, to be quiet, and think about the things that were so cruelly snatched from me.’

Seeing how distressed she was becoming,
Lucy reached out and laid her hand over Vicky’s. ‘You must follow your heart,’ she said firmly ‘… and let them follow theirs.’

Vicky composed herself. Raising her glass again, she made a new toast: ‘To Barney!’

Everyone chinked glasses, and the evening continued on a lighter note.

Vicky spoke of Liverpool and the old haunts, and how wonderful it would be to see Bridget and Dr Lucas, and when
Lucy asked if she wanted her and Adam to accompany her, she graciously declined.

After all, she didn’t want them to find out the real reason she was going to Liverpool. Dr Lucas had written and told her how the Davidsons’ old home was back on the market, to be sold separately with a few acres of land.

She had an appointment to view it. And if she wanted to, she also had the money to buy it.

‘Follow your heart’ … that’s what Lucy had said just now. And that was what she must do.

Chapter 16

T
HE NEXT MORNING
, Vicky awoke refreshed and feeling more like her old self. She and Lucy were waited on at breakfast by an attentive and vociferous Elsie, who proudly boasted of her ‘best bacon’ and new-made bread. ‘You’ll not find anything like that in ’Merica,’ she told Vicky, who thought it might be more than her life was worth to disagree.

When left alone, the two friends enjoyed
their bacon and eggs. They drank the hot tea, and talked of the old life on Overhill Farm in Comberton by Weir, just outside Liverpool. ‘I’ve never stopped missing it,’ Vicky confessed. ‘Whenever I thought of Barney, I thought of us out in the field, bringing in the harvest, chasing each other in the long grass, or walking through the spinney with the dog.’

Lucy also recalled the good times –
ah, there were so many of them! Before they even began on the bad things, she led the conversation away. ‘Adam should be here soon.’ She glanced up at the clock. She didn’t doubt that he would be on time. He always was.

‘Can I ask you something, Lucy?’

‘Of course, anything.’ Assuming it would be something personal about her and Barney, Lucy prepared herself.

‘When you went back to see Doctor
Lucas, did you go to visit little Jamie … only you never mentioned him in your letters.’

Lucy was taken aback. ‘Yes, I did.’ Her voice was low.

‘And how did it affect you?’ Vicky needed to know. ‘I’m just wondering if you were as nervous as I am now, with the thought of seeing where Barney’s laid to rest. I don’t know what to expect of myself. I never imagined anything like this. I never dreamed
…’ She paused. ‘Oh look, Lucy, I’m sorry. Please don’t be upset. You don’t have to answer. It’s just that – well, it makes it all so final, don’t you think?’

Lucy came to sit beside her. ‘It took me a long time to go back,’ she confessed. ‘I thought that by cutting off contact with everyone, I could fool myself that none of it ever happened. I know now, that you must never deny your past. You
have to cling onto it … take it with you, because when it comes right down to it,
your past is who you are.
And yes, it did make it all seem so final, but I knew I had to do it, and though I never believed I would ever say this, I’m glad I went back. I’m glad I went to see Jamie. Yes, it hurt. But I feel calmer in myself for having gone through with it.’

Another question, but this time Lucy saw
it coming. ‘Did they ever catch that maniac, Edward Trent?’

Lucy shuddered. ‘As far as I know, they never did.’

‘Do you think he’s dead?’

‘I hope so!’

‘What if he’s not?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean, if he’s still around, would he ever take it into his head to come after you?’

Lucy had often wondered about that, and she said so now. ‘But there is no way he can ever find me, thank God. The
only people I left a forwarding address with were Bridget, Amy and the good doctor. I know they would never give out my address, especially not to him.’

‘Well, I hope you’re right, Lucy. I haven’t forgotten how crazy he was, and how besotted with you.’ She cautioned herself. ‘Oh, just listen to me, frightening you like that. Of course he won’t come back! Why would he, after all this time?’

Lucy laughed. ‘I’m not the slip of a thing I was back then,’ she pointed out. ‘If he did come after me, he’d take one look and head for the hills.’

‘Give over!’ Vicky could still see the loveliness in Lucy; it was a timeless essence that defied age and shone through the years. ‘You might have changed a little on the outside, but you’re still that special person you always were.’

When she had
seen Lucy waiting on the platform last night, she knew straight away that it was the same Lucy, the same good friend with whom she had shared so much. ‘You’ve still got that everlasting twinkle in your eye,’ she said with a cheeky wink. ‘I’m sure Adam’s told you that many a time, has he not?’

‘Hmh! You don’t miss much, do you? But don’t get too excited, because there is nothing between us. We’re
both too old in the tooth to be acting like love-struck youngsters.’

‘All the same, I wouldn’t mind betting that he’s asked you to marry him. Am I right?’

Lucy had to admit it. ‘You haven’t lost your nose for a bit of gossip, have you?’

‘So, have you said yes?’

‘No, I haven’t. Nor am I likely to.’

‘Why not?’

‘I have my reasons.’

Vicky sensed them. ‘You’re still in love with Barney, aren’t
you?’

‘If I was, would you mind very much?’

‘Yes. But I would understand.’ Vicky paused. ‘You see, I too have never stopped loving Barney. Soon after poor Barney died, Leonard asked me time and again to marry him. My answer was always the same … no. But gradually I grew lonely; he wore me down, and I said yes, not because I loved Barney any less, but because I had a family to think of, and besides,
Leonard had proven himself to be a caring, gentle man who had somehow wormed his way into my affections. Also, I believed in my heart that it was time to stop pining for Barney …’ Her voice broke.

‘Vicky, if I ask you something, will you promise to be honest with me?’

She promised.

‘Would it have been better for all of you, if I hadn’t written and told you the truth about Barney?’

Vicky took
a moment to consider, but when she answered it was with conviction. ‘Lucy, if you never believe anything else, you must believe me when I say this: I’ll be forever grateful to you for telling me. I had
a right
to know! That’s why I can never forgive Leonard.’

Lucy despaired. ‘Never is a very long time.’

Vicky was adamant. ‘He took us to America, away from Barney, knowing full well that what
Barney was doing to us was all a desperate act, knowing full well how ill Barney was, and how nothing on God’s earth would have kept me from my darling’s side.’

‘Don’t be too hard on him, Vicky.’

Lucy too, felt a measure of guilt, for she had known the same as Leonard – more, in fact. And she had not once tried to contact Vicky, so wasn’t she as much to blame as Leonard? Yet hadn’t they both
kept Barney’s secret for the same reason?
Because Barney wanted it that way.

Vicky’s voice hardened. ‘What Leonard did was wrong! He took me as his wife … and
still
he kept his silence, when all the time Barney had sacrificed himself for us, in order to give us good futures in America. What kind of a man could do that?’

‘A man who loved you too much to see you suffer over something you could
not change.’

Lucy defended Leonard, as though she might be defending herself. ‘He thought he was doing the right thing, for Barney, and for you and the children. Leonard is someone who made a promise and kept it, though I’m sure there must have been times when he longed for you to know the truth … to be released from the promise he made in good faith to a man he admired above all others. He didn’t
tell, because he respected Barney’s wish –
that you should never be told.
’

When Vicky would not be moved, Lucy persisted. ‘You should consider yourself fortunate, Vicky …
we both should
… because with Barney we knew love of a kind that comes only once in a lifetime. And now you have Leonard, and I have Adam, both good, honest men who would do anything for us. Not many women are so blessed.’

Just then Adam himself tapped on the dining-room door. ‘You’ll need to wrap up warm,’ he warned. ‘It’s biting cold outside.’

A few moments later, Lucy had collected the coats from the hallway. When the two women were ready, Adam led the way and gently ushered them into the car. ‘Here,’ he handed them a plaid rug. ‘That should help keep you warm.’

Once they were settled, he climbed into the driver’s
seat, started the engine and in no time at all, was on his way. ‘Don’t forget we need to call in at the flower-shop,’ Lucy reminded him.

‘I haven’t forgotten,’ he replied.

They drove over to Leighton Buzzard, where Rona helped Vicky to select a huge bunch of red roses from those on offer in the family’s florist’s shop. ‘They were always Barney’s favourites,’ Vicky said sadly, but Lucy already
knew; in the last few years of his life, she had learned everything there was to know about Barney.

At the churchyard, Adam parked the car and Lucy led the way. ‘The grave is in a beautiful spot,’ she said in a hushed voice to Vicky. ‘You go ahead. I’ll wait in the car. Come back to the path when you’re ready.’ She paused, then whispered with a lump in her throat: ‘I hope you like the words on
his stone. Adam and I chose them to speak for all of us.’