Journey's End (32 page)

‘Yes, so will you let me take you shopping tomorrow morning?’

‘No. Whatever would folks think if I turned up at some poncey shop with you telling me what to buy?’

Abbie observed this fair-haired young man, with his sky-blue eyes and physique to be proud of. ‘They’d think you were a lucky man, to have me looking after you.’

He smiled. ‘Thank you, but I’ll get my own clothes.’

‘I bet you’ve spent
the money and daren’t tell your grandad.’

‘Then you’d lose your bet!’ Digging into his pocket, he took out the money Charlie had paid him. ‘It’s all here, every penny.’

‘So why haven’t you bought some decent clothes for the wedding then?’ When he didn’t answer, she guessed, ‘You don’t know what to buy, do you?’

‘Not really, no,’ he confessed. ‘I’m not used to getting all trussed up like a joint
ready for the oven.’

‘I could help, if you’ll let me?’

‘No!’

‘Aw, go on. I promise it won’t be too painful.’

‘I said NO!’

‘No shopping, no ball.’ With that she ran off, the ball under her arm and Stuart in full pursuit.

Going at a run he threw himself at her in a tackle, bringing her down. Laughing, she threw the ball into the lake. ‘You’ll have to swim for it now,’ she said, smiling up
into his eyes and thinking what a handsome bloke he was.

He made no reply. Instead, he looked into those big dark eyes and he was lost. ‘You’re a devil-woman,’ he teased.

‘And you’re a coward … won’t even come shopping to please Elsie and Charlie.’ She felt the warmth of his smile and when he kissed her, it took her by surprise. At first she lay there, arms wide, then she wrapped them round
his neck and right there, in that wonderful moment, she fell hopelessly in love.

Some time later, Elsie saw them approach, hand-in-hand, talking and laughing. With the ball under his arm, Stuart was dripping wet, and shivering in the cold March air. ‘Look at that!’ Coming up behind his wife, Charlie was open-mouthed. ‘Well, I never!’

Elsie stared at him. ‘What are you on about?’

‘The lad …
look at him.’ He pointed to Stuart. ‘Can’t y’see he’s soaked to the skin? That little bugger … she’s only gone an’ pushed him in the lake. Well, I never!’

Shaking her head, Elsie walked away. ‘Roll on Saturday,’ she groaned. ‘Let’s get this wedding over and done with, afore somebody else gets pushed in the lake!’

‘Does that mean me?’ Charlie thought he wouldn’t put it past her.

‘If yer like,’
she laughed.

‘I should hope you’ll have a word with that young madam … pushing our grandson into the lake, indeed!’

‘Oh I will,’ she replied. ‘I most definitely will.’ She had seen the way they gazed into each other’s eyes, and she was thrilled.

‘I wouldn’t mind betting she’s talked him into going shopping with her,’ she remarked.

‘Never!’ Charlie thought it most unlikely.

‘Trust me,’ Elsie
said. ‘I might be a bit old in the tooth, but I still know a thing or two, Charlie, me darlin’.’

And what she thought she knew, was that their grandson and Ben’s daughter were attracted to each other.

And she was proud as punch.

Charlie, however, had no idea of what was going on. Rummaging in the dresser-drawer, he asked, ‘Where did you put my best tie?’

‘Well, you’ll not find it screwed up
in the drawer, that’s for sure! I’ve ironed it.’

‘Oh yes, and where is it then?’

‘Upstairs, hanging in the wardrobe.’

‘An’ where’ve you put me best shirt?’

‘Hanging in the wardrobe with your tie.’

He would have gone on, but Elsie intervened. ‘Your tie is with your shirt and your shirt is with your Sunday suit. Your shoes are all polished and shining. They’re in the wardrobe, all together,
and I don’t want you moving them. I know what you’re like, and I will not have you panicking on the morning. You already know they all fit, and so all you have to do on the morning is to get washed, shave off your whiskers, and get dressed like the handsome fella I wed … Gawd help me!’

Charlie wagged a finger. ‘It’ll not be me panicking on the morning, you’ll see.’

‘Oh yes, an’ who will it be
then, eh?’ Going into the kitchen, Elsie took a tray out of the oven, filling the house with the warm smell of fresh-baked bread.

Charlie followed her. ‘In my experience, something always goes wrong with weddings.’

‘Not this time,’ his wife assured him. ‘It’s been planned right down to the last tiny detail. Ben and Mary’s wedding will go like a dream.’

‘Yes, well – that remains to be seen.’

Many miles north, up in Liverpool, things were already starting to go wrong.

Edward Trent had waited and watched while Vicky went about her business. He followed her to the solicitor’s office; he trailed her when she was shopping for hats, and he had gone back and forth to the farmhouse when she met with builders and the like. And on every occasion he was both discreet and cunning, invisible as
the wind, but present all the same.

Today, wearied with the waiting and eager for her to make her way to Lucy, he took up his position in the public house opposite the hotel where she was staying. He ordered what he considered to be a well-earned pint, and settled back to enjoy it.

Today he had a feeling in his gut that she would be making her way to Lucy. He mustn’t lose her. Not now. Not when
he had resisted the temptation to waylay the woman and knock Lucy’s address out of her by brute force.

So far, he had avoided any direct confrontation with Vicky – not because he didn’t want to hurt or frighten her, but because if he caused a furore, she or someone else was bound to call the police.

So he wisely decided to play a waiting game, and today when he was almost at his wits’ end, he
was certain his patience was about to pay off.

Across the street and out of sight, Leonard was talking with the private detective. ‘He’s in there.’ Pointing to the public house, the detective explained, ‘I arrived here about seven, and he was already here, walking up and down the street until the pub opened.’

‘And have you managed to find out anything about him?’

The other man shook his head.
‘Not much, I’m afraid. He covers his tracks well. All I know is that he’s some kind of vagabond. He never gives his name and never gets into trouble. He’s a dark horse, that’s for sure.’ He issued a warning. ‘If I were you, I wouldn’t approach him on your own. Matter of fact, with him having followed your good wife and all, I think you should call the cops.’

‘There’s time enough for that,’ Leonard
replied thoughtfully. ‘Once the police get involved, he’ll clam up. His sort always do. I need to know what he wants with my Vicky.’

With his jaw set hard and his stepson by his side, Leonard made his way towards the public house. ‘Leave it to me,’ he told Thomas. ‘We’re just two men looking to quench our thirst, okay?’

Thomas nodded. ‘What I’d like to do is take him by the scruff of his filthy
neck and shake the truth out of him.’

‘Not yet. We don’t want to frighten him off.’

Inside the pub, Trent was downing his third pint when they came up behind him. ‘I’d like a word with you.’ Closing him in on one side, Leonard gestured for Thomas to keep close to the left, effectively blocking any escape route.

‘Who the hell are you?’ Wide-eyed with fear, Trent looked from one to the other.
‘What d’yer want from me? I ain’t got no money, if that’s what yer after!’ Scrambling from the stool, he found himself hemmed in.

‘What can I get you gents?’ The landlord was a weasel type, with sharp beady eyes. ‘Two pints, is it?’

Thomas was about to refuse, but Leonard replied with a smile, ‘That’ll be fine, yes. Two pints of best bitter, if you please.’

‘Coming right up, sir!’ He went away
to the other end of the bar.

‘You!’ Taking hold of Trent’s arm, Leonard gestured to the far table in the corner. ‘Over there … NOW!’

‘What’s yer game, eh? Who are you?’ Discreetly escorted across the room, Trent was scared out of his wits; it was one thing beating up a helpless woman, but being faced with two big blokes like this was an unnerving experience.

‘Shut up, and keep walking!’ Thomas
wanted only half an excuse to lay him flat. ‘We’ve a few questions to ask, and if you know what’s good for you, you’d better have the answers!’

‘Sit down.’ Leonard approached the table. ‘We won’t be disturbed here, so now you can tell me why you’ve been following my wife all over Liverpool.’

‘Your wife?’ Trent was filled with dread. ‘You must be crazy!’ Realising he was in deep trouble, he began
struggling. ‘You’ve got the wrong bloke,’ he protested. ‘I know nothing about your wife.’

As they began shuffling him into the chair, he shouted out, ‘Landlord! Hey, landlord, these thugs mean to do me over!’

Already on his way with the beers, the little weasel stopped in his tracks. Looking suspiciously from one to the other, he sensed there might be trouble. ‘What the devil’s going on here?’

While Leonard was assuring the little man that he had no need to worry, Trent took the moment to break loose.

Thomas went after him, but was stopped in his tracks when Trent picked up a chair and smashed it over his head.

‘Hey! I want you out of here – all of you. NOW!’ Slamming the beer down on the table, the landlord threatened to dial 999 unless they cleared out.

With Trent already away
down the street and Thomas reeling from the blow, there was little choice.

From his safe vantage point in the hired car, the private detective had seen it all. ‘Get in!’ he shouted as they emerged from the pub. ‘We’d best get after him.’

They drove in the direction Trent had fled, but there was no sign of him. They scoured the area relentlessly, but in the end had to give up. ‘Like I said, he’s
a real cunning guy,’ remarked the detective. ‘It’s no use looking any more. We won’t find him, not now.’

Disheartened, the two men made their way back to their hotel.

Later, when they were washed and changed, with Thomas having bathed and treated the gash across his forehead, Leonard told him how the next phase of their journey, to visit Vicky at her own hotel, was going to be the most formidable
for him. ‘I don’t know how your mother will react when she sees us,’ he remarked nervously as they climbed into a taxi. ‘I hope she’s had time to reflect on things. My one desire is to put things right between the family.’

Thomas shook his head. ‘I wouldn’t count on it,’ he said heavily. ‘You know how stubborn Mom can be.’

He was right, because when Vicky opened her hotel-room door to them,
her face fell. ‘If you’ve come to try and make me change my mind, you’ve wasted your time, the pair of you.’ But she let them in all the same. ‘How did you know where I was?’ she asked, hugging Thomas but keeping her distance from Leonard.

Leonard had only ever kept a truth from her once, and that was when he had given his word to Barney. This time he thought it best to tell the truth. ‘I had
you watched.’

‘You did
what
?’ She never imagined he would do such a thing.

‘I had to,’ he confessed. ‘I was going crazy, not knowing where you were or whether you were all right. When you still didn’t get in touch, I called in a private detective, just to keep a watchful eye on you, that’s all. Just so I knew you were safe.’

Vicky was none too pleased. ‘Did you think I wasn’t capable of taking
care of myself?’ she snapped. ‘I came here to be among friends, and I’m perfectly safe, thank you!’

‘No. It wasn’t like that at all,’ he replied. ‘I … we … needed to know that you were safe.’ He had missed her so much, he had nearly gone mad. He wondered whether he would ever get her back: it seemed to him that, here in Liverpool, she was reunited with her beloved Barney, even more strongly than
before.

‘Oh, did you now?’ she said crossly. ‘So you sent a dirty, scruffy-looking detective to follow me every step I took. Oh, he was clever, or he thought he was, but I saw him, always a step behind, watching every move I made. I thought it was some old tramp after money.’

Shocked at her description, Leonard thought it safer to tell her. ‘That was not the private detective,’ he told her.
‘He is a smart-looking professional.’

‘What do you mean? If it wasn’t him, who was it then?’

Thomas answered. ‘We don’t really know. The detective wrote to Leonard to warn him about that particular fella, and that’s why we’re here, Mom, to try and find out who he is, and why he’s following you. We’re worried about your safety.’

Vicky was suspicious. ‘Really? Are you sure about that, or is this
all a devious plan to make me come home? Because if it is, you’re in for a disappointment.’ She looked angrily from one to the other. ‘You, Thomas, because you turned against your own father. Poor Barney! Not one of you children could see the enormity of the sacrifice he made for you – for all of us!’

Her voice shook with emotion as she turned her attention to the older man. ‘As for you, Leonard,
how can I forgive you? I will never understand how you could have been with me all those years, sharing my life, my days and nights, with the knowledge that you had taken me from Barney. You should be ashamed. You saw how ill he was; you knew he was putting on an act, draining his energy in doing things to turn us against him, when all the time he must have been crying out for us to help him,
to be with him.’

When suddenly she was crying bitter tears, Leonard took a step forward. ‘Please don’t torture yourself,’ he pleaded. ‘It was what he wanted, you have to believe that.’

‘Please, Mother.’ Thomas intervened with his own plea. ‘Can’t we resolve our differences? Don’t let it split the family forever.’

Looking up with tear-filled eyes, Vicky asked softly, ‘Will you forgive your father
for turning us away?’

Thomas shook his head. ‘I can’t. I just can’t. I’m so sorry.’

Looking from one to the other, she said calmly, ‘I’d like you to go now. I’m here for Barney, and I’m here for Lucy. You don’t need me, any of you. You must all take comfort from each other.’

Leonard could not believe she was turning them away, but as Thomas had already pointed out, his mother had a strong stubborn
streak, and besides, she was still deeply shaken by what had happened to Barney. It would take a long time for her to come to terms with that, if she ever did.