Lovers and Liars (42 page)
They kissed again, only this time it was more gentle, more of a binding, lasting thing. ‘Are you ready to go back now?’ he asked gently.
She nodded, but didn’t speak. Her heart was too full.
They walked back arm-in-arm, easy and content in each other’s company. This was the night they would carry with them for all time. This night, this love, and the knowledge that the love would always be there, drawing them together, yet keeping them apart. It was how it should be.
As they approached the farmhouse door, Danny was there, with Rosie by his side. They saw Emily and John, and for a moment were afraid again. But then they saw the easy smiles, and realised how it was; and the joy in their hearts was almost too much to bear.
When Emily came towards him, Danny clasped her close. ‘I thought I’d lost you,’ he said brokenly. ‘Oh Emily, I wouldn’t want to live without you.’
Rosie said nothing. She just walked to John and, looking at him with tears glittering in her eyes, she smiled knowingly.
‘It’s all right,’ he murmured. Then he slid his arm round her shoulders, and took her inside.
As Emily and Danny came up the path, Aggie was rushing out of the door. ‘Have you seen Lizzie?’ She seemed frantic. ‘She’s not been seen for a while, and we can’t find her anywhere!’
A search got under way. The entire party went out into the farm, hunting in every nook and cranny; even Grandad hobbled about, pausing every now and then to hold on to something or to sit down while he got his breath back.
‘Lizzie!’
His voice sailed on the night air. ‘Where the devil are you, woman?’
It was Bob who found her, sprawled out in the orchard. She seemed lifeless. ‘She’s ’ere! For God’s sake, hurry!’
Once they got her inside, it was Aggie who discovered what the problem was. ‘She’s drunk!’
‘Never.’ Leaning down, Archie took a sniff of her breath. ‘Well, the old bugger,’ he laughed. ‘She smells like a brewery!’ Everyone laughed at that, until Emily reminded them, ‘She’s been lying out there half-unconscious and she feels cold. We’d best get a doctor all the same.’
At which point Lizzie opened her eyes. ‘Don’t want no doctor! Why does everybody allus want me to see a ruddy doctor? I’d be better off wi’ another measure o’ that elderberry wine.’
When the laughter was over and everyone had drifted away, Grandad leaned down to give her a telling-off. ‘How much ’ave yer drunk, you devious little bugger? And what the devil were you doing out there?’
Reaching up, she took hold of his coat collar and drew him down. ‘It’s all right,’ she hissed. ‘I saw them together, and it’s all right.’
He realised what she was saying, and his old heart was thrilled. ‘Oh Lizzie,’ he kept his voice low, ‘is that what you were doing – so worried that you were knocking back the good stuff? An’ then yer follered ’em outside to see how it might all turn out?’
She nodded, but then groaned suddenly. ‘I don’t feel well now.’
Thomas Isaac laughed. ‘What am I gonna do with yer, eh?’ he said out loud, and people’s heads turned to listen. They were highly entertained when he answered his own question. ‘I shall ’ave to marry yer, I can see that.’
Smiling, Lizzie nodded again, and everyone cheered. ‘Go to it, Grandad!’ somebody called out.
When he gave Lizzie a kiss, they clapped until the little farmhouse shook.
Two weeks later, Grandad and Lizzie were wed. ‘We’re too old and decrepit to have a long courtship,’ Grandad joshed, and hugging him tight, Lizzie agreed. She had always got on well with Tom and his wife, Clare, and she knew he was a good man.
At their own request, there was just the family present: Michael and Aggie, Emily and Danny, and little Cathleen – the intelligent and loving child who had sprung like a miracle from a brutal and incestuous rape. The name of Clem Jackson was never spoken. His remains had been interred in a churchyard on the far side of Blackburn, and the very air in Potts End Farm seemed the purer for his absence.
Lizzie’s beloved nephew John was there too, of course, back down from Liverpool with his wife.
Rosie had been feeling proper peaky ever since the night of Danny’s welcome-home party. It was worse in the early mornings, and she’d gone right off the taste of tea … She hadn’t told John yet, but in her heart she knew their first bairn was growing inside her and in her wisdom, she also knew that it was the completion he needed.
Archie and Harriet were there too, both considered members of the extended family. Many unsubtle jokes were made about marriage, and when John saw Harriet looking coy, he slapped Archie on the back and sprinkled bridal rice on his old shipmate’s shrivelled pate.
The ceremony took place in the same church where Danny had married Emily. It was a quick service, given with a blessing, and afterwards a little tea in the local inn, at Grandad’s expense. ‘It’s not every day I tek a bride,’ he announced. ‘Besides, I’ve allus ’ad a bit put by for a rainy day.’
‘You’d best save a bit more if you’re coming to live at my cottage,’ Lizzie quipped. ‘I need new curtains, and the sofa’s started sagging in the middle, and –’
‘Stop right there!’ Grandad told her, and when she went quiet, he put his arm round her. ‘You can ’ave yer curtains,’ he said, ‘but the sofa can wait, ’cause I mean to tek you away.’ Brandishing two tickets, he told her proudly, ‘We’re off to Blackpool for a couple o’ nights. I’ve booked us into a little guest-house on the front. The journey’ll probably kill me, with me arthritis an’ all, but what a lovely way to go.’ He laughed naughtily and ducked when Lizzie turned to swipe him.
Several months after the wedding, Michael and Aggie received news that ownership of the farm had been rightfully restored to them. Once the paperwork was safely completed, Michael told Danny and Emily that he and Aggie had drawn up plans to build a cottage for them in the orchard. ‘We know how much you love this place, and we want you to have your own home, near us,’ Aggie said.
‘Oh, Dad! That’s wonderful!’ Emily cried with joy. She and Danny and Cathleen immediately went outside to look at ‘their spot’. While the child danced on ahead, Emily went more slowly, leaning on her husband who was now her support, as she was seven months pregnant.
The orchard had always held some special magic for her.
When a year later the cottage was ready, Emily and Danny moved in with Cathleen and their ten-month-old son, George Isaac – ‘Georgie’. ‘A little brother for you,’ Emily had told Cathleen after the baby’s birth upstairs at Potts End. Her daughter held the child in her arms. ‘He’s lovely, Mammy,’ she said.
And so are you, Emily thought.
Now, as she looked out of the window of Orchard Cottage, Georgie on her shoulder having his back gently rubbed, in her mind’s eye she could see herself and John, young and carefree, running across the fields and swimming in the brook. She could see the place where they had shared their very first kiss, and the place in the orchard where, on the night of their reunion, they had shared their very last one.
At that moment, down in the meadow, where the lambs chased each other, watched by a curious hare, the sun caught on a gold locket that had lain hidden in a path of flowering clover through many seasons, and for a second, the glow was dazzling. And then the sun’s rays encompassed the whole field, and the farm – and the entire vale. And up in the cottage bedroom, a baby cried, and the woman dreaming at the window turned to comfort him.
She would never forget her first love. They had been two young people setting out on life’s journey. Two lovers who had shared a dream and lost it, but in the losing had found something else. The love that had grown between them was still there, but it was a different love now. It was a strong, binding love that would go on for as long as they lived.
The love of friendship.
A precious thing, after all.
This book was written during a time in my life when I needed friends and family like never before, and thankfully you were there for me, as always.
Every day is difficult and I dare say it will be that way for a long time yet and maybe it will never get easier, but it is comforting to know that so many of you, my loyal friends and readers, have included Ken and me in your thoughts and prayers.
I want to thank my family from the bottom of my heart. Warm, wonderful people I am privileged to belong to, it would take a book to mention each and every one of you, but you know how very much I love you all, and always have. We’re there for each other when it matters and, God willing, always will be. What would I do without you, eh?
Among the many old and new friends who were there for me, I include those at my present publishers, HarperCollins, and my previous publishers, Headline. And those of you at Gillon Aitken. Thank you so much for caring.
I want also to say how touched and moved I am by all of the wonderful letters I have received from you, the readers. They arrived in their thousands, and though I have managed to answer most of them in order, I am still replying to a bundle every day.
My gratitude and thanks to every one of you. You have all helped me more than you could ever realise.
For those of you who write and tell me how you have not been fortunate enough to have the support of family in your time of need, please look on me as someone you can talk to, whenever you feel the need.
God bless. Take care,
Josephine
Also by Josephine Cox
QUEENIE’S STORY
Her Father’s Sins
Let Loose the Tigers
THE EMMA O’GRADY TRILOGY
Outcast
Alley Urchin
Vagabonds
Angels Cry Sometimes
Take This Woman
Whistledown Woman
Don’t Cry Alone
Jessica’s Girl
Nobody’s Darling
Born to Serve
More than Riches
A Little Badness
Living a Lie
The Devil You Know
A Time for Us
Cradle of Thorns
Miss You Forever
Love Me or Leave Me
Tomorrow the World
The Gilded Cage
Somewhere, Someday
Rainbow Days
Looking Back
Let it Shine
Born Bad
Divorced and Deadly
Blood Brothers
Midnight
Three Letters.
The Woman Who Left
Jinnie
Bad Boy Jack
The Beachcomber
Live the Dream
The Journey
Journey’s End
The Loner
Songbird
