The Price of Love

by Rosie Harris

  ‘I didn’t do it on purpose,’ Patsy snuffled. ‘I told you the wheelchair was too heavy for me to manage.’

  ‘Well, come on, give me a hand to get Sam up off the ground and back into it,’ Lucy urged.

  ‘I think he’s too heavy for me to help lift him and I’m shaking like a leaf, it was such a shock.’

  ‘You move out the way, Patsy, and I’ll help Lucy,’ Robert told her.

  To Lucy’s immense relief it appeared that although Sam was rather shaken he wasn’t hurt apart from some gravel cuts on his right hand which he had instinctively put out to try and save himself. He tried to make light of the matter the moment he saw how upset Patsy appeared to be.

  ‘It looks as though we’d better go to the park with them after all,’ Robert murmured apologetically in Lucy’s ear.

  She nodded although she felt near to tears because her carefully made plans were all going so wrong. She knew she was being childish but she had so looked forward to spending some time alone with Robert that she couldn’t help feeling very frustrated. What was more, she was quite convinced in her own mind that Patsy had deliberately tipped the wheelchair over.

  Once again she found herself trailing behind as Patsy pushed the chair along the paths and Robert kept a restraining hand on it.

  Patsy was so busy chattering and looking up into Robert’s face and laughing at what she’d said that several times she almost crashed into posts and seats. In the end Robert suggested that she should walk alongside the chair and hold Sam’s hand and he and Lucy would push the chair.

  His arm went round Lucy’s waist and he gave her a companionable squeeze as if to indicate that he knew how she was feeling and was as fed up with the arrangement as she was.

  When they reached the park Patsy looked at her watch and gave a gasp of fake horror.

  ‘Is that the time already?’ she gasped. ‘I really will have to fly. You’ll be safe enough with Lucy and Robert looking after you won’t you?’ she said airily.

  ‘Do you really have to go so soon?’ Sam protested. ‘I’ve been looking forward to this outing so much.’

  ‘I’m afraid so. Perhaps we can all go out again sometime soon and you can teach me how to handle Sam’s wheelchair,’ she added smiling coquettishly at Robert.

  With a wave of her hand and an airborne kiss, Patsy hurried off.

  ‘I’ve messed your afternoon up completely, haven’t I?’ Sam said bitterly.

  ‘Of course you haven’t, we always enjoy coming to the park, but we thought you’d like Patsy to take you for a change,’ Robert told him blithely.

  ‘Come on; let’s speed things up instead of dawdling along as we’ve been doing ever since we left home,’ Lucy said as she began pushing the wheelchair.

  ‘Right; we’ll take a brisk walk around the park and then let’s see if we can find a café open and have a cup of tea and some fancy cakes,’ Robert suggested.

  ‘Or we could go back home and then you two could go over to New Brighton like I know you wanted to do,’ Sam told them. ‘I don’t mind; I’m getting used to being on my own.’

  He looked so dejected that both Robert and Lucy magnanimously declared that they didn’t want to go to New Brighton.

  ‘If that was what we wanted to do, then we could have taken you with us,’ Robert pointed out. ‘In fact,’ he added, ‘why don’t we do that next Sunday? We can make a whole day of it, how about that?’

  ‘Do you think Patsy will come as well?’ Sam asked eagerly.

  ‘We can ask her, but she may already have something planned,’ Lucy sighed.

  Chapter Eight

  Lucy found her life was increasingly frustrating. Sam’s leg was taking far longer to heal than had been expected. Also, when the wheelchair had toppled over, the impact of his hand with the pavement had torn the skin on his palm which was still thin and tender from the fire and an infection had set in. This not only caused him a great deal of pain but it also meant that he had to have fresh dressings on it every day for several weeks.

  For the first few weeks after the car accident, Miss Yorke had been understanding about letting Lucy have time off to take Sam to hospital but as the weeks extended into months she started to raise objections whenever Lucy asked and told her she would have to ask Mr Carter herself for permission.

  ‘Why don’t you ask Patsy to take a turn at taking Sam to the hospital?’ Robert suggested when Lucy mentioned the matter to him and said how curt Mr Carter had been.

  ‘What’s the good of asking Patsy when she always says that she can’t manage the wheelchair on her own and that she isn’t prepared to take the responsibility?’

  ‘Well, I can’t very well ask for time off; we’re far too busy,’ Robert protested.

  ‘Exactly, which means that I am the one who has to do it all the time,’ Lucy pointed out.

  Arranging to take Sam to hospital wasn’t Lucy’s only worry. It was now over five months since the accident and she was finding that her meagre wage was nowhere near enough to cover all their household bills.

  Night after night she found herself unable to sleep because she was trying to think of ways they could economise and worrying about how she was ever going to pay all their debts if they didn’t.

  Mr and Mrs Collins had not had any personal insurance so there was no compensation after the accident. They had been hardworking and practical but Lucy had been forced to use most of their savings to pay for the funeral. Now she was finding that dipping into what little there was left in order to pay the rent each week meant that she and Sam were rapidly becoming penniless.

  As well as that, because of all her other responsibilities, in addition to going to work each day, she was desperately tired. Often she felt either too exhausted or was too busy with household chores to take Sam out at the weekends. In desperation, she once again asked Patsy if she would be willing to do so.

  At first Patsy said that she was far too busy but when Lucy pressed her she reluctantly said that she’d take Sam out if Robert went with them in case she tipped the chair over again.

  ‘If Robert has to go with you, then he may as well be the one to take Sam out,’ Lucy grumbled. ‘I was hoping that if you could take Sam for a walk, it would give Robert a chance to do some of the odd jobs around our house that need attention and also give us some time together; I hardly ever see him alone these days,’ she added wistfully.

  ‘Sorry, Lucy, but the wheelchair is far too heavy for me to push,’ Patsy maintained with a dismissive little shrug.

  ‘Sam’s going to be very disappointed; he’s been looking forward to it,’ Lucy persisted. ‘He says he doesn’t see very much of you at all these days.’

  Patsy was adamant and, knowing how fed up Sam was with being on his own so much, Lucy finally agreed to her demands. At first Robert protested that he didn’t see that it was necessary but reluctantly he gave in rather than disappoint Sam.

  Once the routine was established Lucy couldn’t help feeling rebellious from time to time as she watched Robert, Patsy and Sam setting off for a walk on Saturdays and Sundays while she stayed at home. As she started to clean the house or tackle the pile of washing and ironing after she’d waved them off, she felt it was so unfair and wondered when it would ever end.

  It was almost the end of September when Mr Carter summoned her to his office and Lucy thought it was because he wanted to know why she hadn’t yet asked to take her annual week’s holiday.

  She intended explaining that because she’d had so much time off she was willing to forgo a holiday this year and to ask him if he would be good enough to let her go on having the occasional half-day whenever she needed to take Sam to hospital.

  Mr Carter didn’t even look up from the papers in front of him when she went in to his office; he merely indicated with a brief movement of his head that she was to sit in the chair on the other side of his desk.

  As she sat there waiting for him to speak she felt more and more nervous. She kept twisting her handkerchief between her
hands as she mentally went over what she was going to say and wishing he would hurry up and pay her some attention.

  When he finally did look up his face was very stern above the high collar of the white shirt he was wearing with his immaculate dark grey suit. Lucy’s heart started to pound because she sensed that there was something wrong, and it wasn’t anything to do with her annual holiday.

  ‘I’m sorry to have to say this, Miss Collins, but I am afraid matters can’t go on like this any longer,’ he said curtly. ‘I am going to have to replace you. We need a switchboard operator who can be relied on and so far this year you have had –’ he paused and looked down at the piece of paper in front on him to check the number of occasions when she’d taken time off.

  Quickly, before he could start to speak again, Lucy tried to explain what she intended doing about her holiday, hoping that he would then see that she was cooperating as much as she possibly could to overcome the problem.

  Mr Carter waved her to silence before she was halfway through her explanation.

  ‘I’m sorry, Miss Collins, but I’ve talked it over with Miss Yorke and I’ve given the matter very careful thought and my mind is made up. I am dispensing with your services,’ he said firmly.

  Lucy shook her head in disbelief. She tried to speak but all she managed was a feeble croak. She didn’t know what to say to make him rethink the matter.

  ‘It will also be necessary to dispense with your brother’s services as well,’ Mr Carter went on. ‘This firm isn’t large enough to carry passengers. Everyone employed here is expected to pull their weight and there are half a dozen other people waiting to fill any vacancy that comes along.’

  The colour drained from Lucy’s face. It was bad enough that she was going to be out of work but for Sam to lose his job as well was quite unthinkable. Although he’d not received any wages since the accident she was hoping that once he was earning again they would be able to manage on their combined income. The unfairness of it made her angry.

  ‘Sam’s hands have given him so much trouble because they were so badly burned when he saved your son from the bonfire,’ she reminded Mr Carter.

  ‘Oh no!’ Mr Carter shook his head firmly. ‘The reason your brother has to go to the hospital for treatment is because of the car accident, Miss Collins.’

  ‘Yes, that as well,’ Lucy agreed, her colour rising.

  ‘Let me remind you that your brother completely ruined one of my finest vehicles and that has cost me a great deal of money,’ Mr Carter stated in a voice that brooked no argument.

  ‘Both my parents died in that accident,’ Lucy reminded him in a small voice. ‘Do you think I am ever likely to forget it?’

  ‘Yes, and your brother was driving the car,’ Mr Carter reiterated sternly.

  ‘The accident wasn’t Sam’s fault. It was caused when a horse that was running loose on the road reared; Sam did all he possibly could to avoid it.’

  ‘Most unfortunate, but he was in charge of the car at the time,’ Mr Carter stated flatly.

  ‘Don’t you think that Sam has suffered enough without losing his job as well?’ Lucy pleaded.

  ‘Possibly.’ Mr Carter nodded solemnly. ‘Nevertheless, my decision remains unaltered.’

  Lucy bit her lip as she stared at him across the desk. The tears which she had managed to hold in check began to roll down her cheeks and she felt too choked to say anything more. She could see from the hard look on Mr Carter’s face that his mind was made up and that no amount of pleading would change things.

  ‘A formal letter of dismissal is already in the post to both you and your brother,’ Mr Carter went on in an implacable voice. ‘I have enclosed a reference, but if a prospective employer requires further details, then you may refer him to me. I wish you both well.’

  ‘You wish us both well?’ Anger made Lucy’s voice so high that it was almost a scream. ‘You take our livelihoods from us and then wish us well? We have both worked for you ever since the day we left school and until the accident never taken a day off because of illness or for any other reason.’

  ‘Good day, Miss Collins; I have nothing more to say on the matter. You may leave immediately.’

  Lucy went on sitting there for another minute, studying Mr Carter’s hard-set features as he concentrated on the papers in front of him. Then with a sigh of resignation she left his office, leaving the door open behind her.

  As she went out into the general office she tried to hold her head high, knowing that all eyes were on her, determined not to let anyone know how upset she felt, particularly Miss Yorke because she was positive that it had been Miss Yorke who had complained about her frequent absence.

  She walked across to the switchboard with the intention of pulling out all the plugs as a symbol of rebellion, but Patsy was already sitting in her place, headphones on, busily connecting callers to the various departments.

  Without a word, Lucy opened the small drawer at the side of the desk where she kept her few personal items. Collecting them together she picked up her coat from the peg behind the door and walked out of the office without a word to anyone.

  As she made her way home Lucy wondered how on earth she was going to break the news to Sam. He’d had so many things go wrong for him in the last few months that he had become depressed and this would be the final straw.

  It wouldn’t be easy for him to find a new job because he was no longer fit enough for any physical work, and somehow she didn’t think he would take kindly to being a clerk; that was even if he could find a position of that sort.

  She would have to find another job as well, and girls who were capable of operating a switchboard were two a penny. She knew she had been lucky to get taken on at Carter’s Cars as soon as she left school. Her father had been working there and so she and Sam had been given preferential treatment.

  One look at Sam’s face as she went into the living room told her that he had already heard the news. The letter from Mr Carter was open on the table and alongside it was an unopened envelope addressed to her. She knew from what Mr Carter had told her earlier what it contained, so she ignored it.

  Sam picked it up and waved it in the air at her. ‘Does this say the same thing as mine does?’ he demanded as he dropped it back on to the table.

  She hesitated, wondering if she denied it whether that would make him feel better or worse. Before she could make up her mind his shoulders slumped and he looked so upset that she went and put her arms around him and hugged him.

  ‘Yes,’ she murmured. ‘It’s more or less the same as yours.’

  ‘How long have you known?’

  ‘Mr Carter called me into his office and told me about an hour ago. It looks as though we are both finished at Carter’s Cars.’

  ‘What are we going to do?’ he asked, pushing her away.

  She gave a falsely bright smile as she released him. ‘It will be a fresh start for both of us, won’t it? Probably all for the best.’

  Sam shook his head but didn’t answer. They both knew in their hearts that making a fresh start wasn’t going to be easy for either of them. In fact, it was impossible for Sam even to contemplate until he was completely better.

  What was worrying Lucy, though, as she went through into the kitchen to make a cup of tea, was how they were going to manage for money until she found a new job.

  Lying awake that night she toyed with the idea of asking Robert if they could get married and if he would move in with them. He was now earning good money and she would probably be able to manage on his wages.

  If only Patsy married Sam and she moved in with them as well, then they wouldn’t have any money problems, she mused.

  The more she thought about it the more Lucy felt that it was a good idea. If they all lived together then she could cook the meals and do all the housework until Sam was well enough to go to work. Then she would find herself a job and everything would be in easy street.

  It was the first thing that came into her mind when she woke up
the next morning. She wished she’d thought about it when they were talking it over the night before; now she would have to wait until evening before she could discuss it with Robert.

  She decided to talk it over with Sam while they were having breakfast and see if he was in agreement with her idea.

  Sam admitted it had possibilities but he wasn’t as optimistic as she was that the other two would agree.

  ‘If Robert wanted to do that, then wouldn’t he have mentioned it?’ he questioned as he pushed his cup across the breakfast table for a refill.

  ‘He probably never thought of it; I didn’t until after I was in bed and going over everything again in my head,’ Lucy told him as she picked up the teapot.

  ‘Let’s think about it for a while and if we still consider it to be a good idea, then we can put it to them and see what they think,’ Sam said tentatively as she passed his cup of tea to him. ‘I’m not too sure if Patsy will still want to marry me now that I’m a cripple.’

  Chapter Nine

  Lucy stayed downstairs long after Sam had gone to bed that night, wondering if the plan she’d outlined to him earlier really was feasible. Sitting there in front of the dying embers, she thought back over all that had been happening over the past few months.

  Before the bonfire accident, she and Robert had been planning to be married early in the summer. After her parents had been killed and Sam had been so badly injured, they had postponed it until the autumn.

  It was now the end of September and their wedding seemed to be as far away as ever. In fact, Robert hadn’t even mentioned anything about them getting married for the last couple of months and sometimes she wondered if he still wanted to marry her.

  They saw so little of each other these days; there was never the time or opportunity for them to go out together. Whenever Sam was taken out at the weekend it was Robert and Patsy who went with him, not her. In fact, Lucy thought resentfully, Patsy appeared to see more of Robert these days than she did.

  She sighed and picked up the poker and began raking out the ashes from the bottom of the grate and then dampening the fire down with small pieces of coal and cinders so that it would keep alight overnight. She stopped halfway through. There was no real need to do this, she told herself, because now that she didn’t have a job, she wouldn’t have to rush off to work in the morning.