Myrtle nodded. ‘You could say that. I’m sure things’ll work out for you. That young man would be mad not to snap you up. You go off as soon as you like. Keep in touch.’
It was not easy for Lucy saying goodbye to Timmy, especially as there was so much more she could have said to him. As for Wesley, now she knew he wouldn’t be pestering her again Lucy could show him affection. Her brother hugged her until her ribs felt as if they would crack. Then he told her to beat it and, taking his grandmother’s arm, walked away.
* * *
Lucy was exhausted by the time she arrived in Liverpool. Having heard nothing from Rob she didn’t know what was going on. At least it wasn’t raining this time, she thought, looking up at the stars pricking the night sky. She had a key to the rooms in Northumberland Terrace so took a tram there. Hopefully there would be a welcoming fire in the grate, food in the larder and the newshounds would have given up and gone home.
As Lucy turned the key in the lock the door was opened from the other side and her mother stood there. Lucy dropped her suitcase and the colour drained from her face. ‘So I was right,’ she said.
Maureen seized hold of her. ‘Now don’t you go and faint on me, darlin’! You’re not seeing a ghost.’
‘I know! But even so…’ She clung to her mother, gazing into her beloved face. ‘I did guess right then in the end. You wrote to Timmy and me and Barney destroyed the letters.’
‘I’m sure that’s what happened.’ Maureen caressed Lucy’s cheek and kissed her. ‘I wrote to Miss Griffiths when I didn’t hear anything from you. It didn’t occur to me at first that Barney wouldn’t tell you but eventually it did. So I wrote to you, not knowing you’d left Liverpool. When I didn’t hear from you after the second letter, that’s when I wrote to Rob’s aunt.
‘I didn’t tell her the truth, of course – that I’d run away with Callum. I was convinced Barney would have kept quiet about that. In fact, I suggested to him that he tell people I’d gone to Ireland for the good of my health. He had to know the truth, of course, and so did you and Timmy. I had no idea you’d left Liverpool and gone to live with your grandmother. No idea that you thought Shaun O’Neill had done away with me. Aunt Mac might have told you if she hadn’t been in Ireland. As for Uncle Mac, we kept it from him and he only reads the sports pages in the newspapers.’
‘But why didn’t Miss Griffiths tell me about the letter?’ said Lucy, bewildered. ‘She must have known what it was like for Timmy and me?’
‘Rob thinks it was just plain cussedness. He said that she’d called you a hussy after you’d appeared at her New Year’s Eve get-together in that shimmy frock – and what with the rumours going round about you and Rob, she decided to destroy the letter.’
‘But-but she must have been mad!’ cried Lucy, putting a hand to her head. ‘The police had dug over Barney’s garden! What did you put in the letter?’
‘I only asked her if you and Timmy were well and could she see her way to persuading you two to come and visit me in Ireland.’
‘That’s all?’
‘Yes!’
Lucy gnawed on her lip, still finding it incredible that Rob’s aunt could behave in such a way. ‘What about Barney? Did she tell him about the letter?’
Maureen grimaced. ‘Perhaps she did… maybe he told her the truth. Rob said if he did that would only reinforce her opinion that we were women of loose morals. A pity because she could be a kind woman.’
‘Both those things are true, of course.’ Lucy found herself, as she had once before, wondering if she had wandered into a lunatic asylum. The whole thing was incredible. ‘I wonder if she ever had a fancy for Barney herself? I mean… she was a few years older than him, I know, and he never showed any interest in her but even so…’
Maureen said soberly, ‘We’ll never know. Because we’ll never ask, will we?’
Lucy shook her head. ‘I don’t know what to say next.’ Her mother led Lucy unresisting into the sitting room and lowered her into a chair. ‘Hot sweet tea,’ she said, smoothing back a lock of her daughter’s hair. ‘Or maybe you’d like a drop of the hard stuff?’ She took hold of one of her daughter’s hands and chafed it. ‘My, you’re cold, darlin’. Did you have a good journey? How is the old man Rob spoke about?’
‘He’s dead.’
‘I am sorry. It was good of him to take you and Timmy in.’
‘It was.’
‘And how is Timmy?’
‘Fine. Although he’s sad about Uncle Stan’s death.’ Lucy cleared her throat. ‘I need a drink.’
‘I’ll get you one,’ said Maureen. ‘You just stay there. There’s not a thing for you to worry about.’
I suppose there isn’t, thought Lucy. As long as Mam doesn’t expect Timmy to live with her. He’ll be thrilled, of course, and want to see her, but it could tear him apart if she puts pressure on him and would spoil his and Gran’s plans. Her mother had to see their lives had carried on and taken a different direction when they’d believed her dead… Something exploded inside Lucy then and she shot to her feet and stormed after her mother. ‘Why couldn’t you tell us to our faces you were leaving? A letter isn’t good enough, Mam. D’you know how much we’ve suffered? The tears we’ve shed?’
Her mother turned, looking upset. ‘I know! But I told you, I was a little crazy. I knew you wouldn’t approve of what I was doing. You looked up to Barney so much, had wanted me to marry him so badly. To be honest, though, I didn’t think he’d lie to you, bury the whole thing and act the way Rob said he did. He must have been as crazy as I was.’
‘Yes. I can believe he was more than a little mad,’ said Lucy, some of the anger draining out of her to be replaced by anguish and a sense of loss. ‘But he was also deeply unhappy and full of guilt.’
Maureen looked downcast. ‘I know. I suppose I should never have told him I planned on marrying Callum in the letter.’
Lucy’s expression froze. ‘You couldn’t marry Callum. You were married to Barney.’
Her mother took a deep breath. ‘But I did marry Callum and we’ve just had a darlin’ little baby,’ she said, putting several feet between herself and her daughter. ‘That’s why Aunt Mac and then Callum came here in search of you. I wanted so badly to see you and Timmy and for you to know about your little brother.’
Lucy had to lean against a wall. ‘How could you marry Callum?’ she wailed.
Her mother took a deep breath. ‘Once a Catholic, always a Catholic. Despite my marrying in Barney’s church and saying “I do!” I never felt married to him.’
‘You had a baby by Barney, Mam! You were married in the eyes of his church and the state!’ Lucy really had wandered into a lunatic asylum now. ‘You’re a loony!’
‘No, not a loony,’ said Maureen, rolling her shoulders as if she had an itch between her shoulder blades. ‘But I was terribly unhappy. I knew I’d made a mistake.’ She pointed at her daughter. ‘Just you pray you never make the mistake of marrying the wrong man.’
‘So how did it happen?’ said Lucy, trying to keep calm.
Maureen smiled. ‘I met Aunt Mac at St Anthony’s and she told me Callum was visiting – how well he was doing in Ireland. So I went home with her and as soon as I saw him, I knew I should have married him.’
‘So you did! Conveniently putting aside your own husband and children.’
Scarlet flamed in Maureen’s cheeks. ‘I never conveniently put you aside. I know I would have to face you with the truth sooner or later.’
‘Later rather than sooner!’
‘You’d only have stopped me if I’d told you. Perhaps thrown all the times I’d talked morality to you in my face. So I went to Ireland with Callum and there I married him in my own church.’ Her face softened. ‘It was a lovely service.’
‘You committed bigamy,’ squeaked Lucy.
Maureen hung her head and then almost immediately lifted it again. ‘I’m a widow now. I can get married again and you and Timmy can come to the wedding this time.’ Her lovel
y face shone. ‘We’ll have a big do. Barney’s left me all his money.’
‘What!’ Lucy could scarcely believe it. ‘How could he do that?’
‘Probably didn’t like thinking about death so kept putting off altering the will he’d made when we were first married. Everything’s been left to his dearest wife, Maureen Mary Jones.’ There was a rueful gleam in Maureen’s eyes.
For a moment Lucy could have killed her. It wasn’t fair! Barney had been going to give her a cinema! Now it belonged to her mother! It wasn’t bloody fair!
‘I can guess what you’re thinking,’ said Maureen, leaning forward and touching her daughter’s arm. ‘I’d want to kill me, too. But don’t worry, darlin’! You won’t lose by it.’
Lucy stared at her and didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Maybe later she might laugh but right now she was furious.
Her mother tried to put her arms round her. ‘I really am sorry you and Timmy suffered but I didn’t know how badly you were hurting. I thought you just thoroughly disapproved of me. I wouldn’t be here now if it weren’t for Rob.’
So he had worked it out, thought Lucy, and wondered what he’d made of it all. ‘I don’t know what Timmy’s going to think about all this,’ she muttered. ‘You won’t get him back. He’s going to live with Gran. She’s got money and property. I’ve been left a wireless.’
Her mother looked sad. ‘I suppose I’ll have to accept I can’t have everything the way I want it. I was hoping the pair of you would come and live in Ireland.’
‘No,’ said Lucy firmly. ‘I have my own dreams.’
‘Your mother could make amends a little,’ said Rob, entering the kitchen, hands in pockets.
Lucy looked at him and her heart lifted. ‘It’s going to have to be a lot,’ she said.
‘She could give you that cinema Barney left,’ said Rob.
Maureen’s eyes twinkled. ‘Have you seen it? Two old houses knocked into one. Lucy’s welcome to it.’
‘There you are, then,’ said Rob, grinning at Lucy. ‘Your own cinema, love.’
For a moment Lucy struggled to hold on to her anger, then she let go of it. Today hadn’t two of the miracles she had prayed for in the Priory church in Bridlington been answered? ‘Thanks, Mam.’ Lucy smiled. ‘Barney did warn me, though, the cinema needs doing up – and when talkies come I’ll have to have sound fitted.’
‘Talkies! Sound! Now who’s a little crazy?’ said Maureen, returning her daughter’s smile.
‘I’m not crazy at all. It’ll happen,’ said Lucy confidently. ‘I’ll have to sell my shares and see if the bank will give me a loan.’
‘You’ve got a hope,’ said her mother. ‘Banks aren’t keen on lending money to women.’
Rob said, ‘I could sell my motorbike and I’ve got a little saved. I’d be happy to invest in you, Luce.’
She gazed at him and a warm glow suffused her whole body. ‘But you love that ’bike and it could come in handy. I like it, though, that you have that much faith in me.’
‘There are conditions,’ he said, putting his arms round her. ‘If we’re in this together you’d better marry me.’
Am I hearing this right? thought Lucy, a bemused expression on her face.
Maureen glanced at them. ‘Well, if he’s prepared to marry you and put in his pennyworth, I suppose I could lend you some money at nil interest. Right now, I’d better go and see if my baby’s awake.’ She left them alone.
‘What would you do with a mother like that?’ said Lucy, lifting her hands in a hopeless gesture.
Rob clasped them both and brought them against his chest. ‘At least she knows what she wants and goes after it. She’s seen to the funeral by the way so you don’t have that to face.’ He kissed her fingers and gave her a quizzical look. ‘You’re not unlike her, you know.’
Lucy protested, ‘I wouldn’t commit bigamy! You can depend on that.’
‘I should hope not!’ Rob hugged her tightly. ‘I want someone I can trust not to run out on me or slug me across the head when we fall out.’
‘I’m glad we can both agree on that,’ Lucy murmured, thinking he had long ago proved himself trustworthy. Reaching up, she brought his head down to hers. ‘And the answer to your proposal is yes.’
First published in the United Kingdom in 2000 by Judy Piatkus
This edition published in the United Kingdom in 2019 by
Canelo Digital Publishing Limited
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Beaconsfield, Bucks HP9 2DU
United Kingdom
Copyright © June Francis, 2000
The moral right of June Francis to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
ISBN 9781788635172
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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