by Rosie Harris
Table of Contents
Cover
A Selection of Recent Titles from Rosie Harris
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Acknowledgements
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
A Selection of Recent Titles from Rosie Harris
LOVE AGAINST ALL ODDS
SING FOR YOUR SUPPER
WAITING FOR LOVE
LOVE CHANGES EVERYTHING
A DREAM OF LOVE
A LOVE LIKE OURS
THE QUALITY OF LOVE
WHISPERS OF LOVE
AMBITIOUS LOVE
THE PRICE OF LOVE
A BRIGHTER DAWN
HELL HATH NO FURY *
STOLEN MOMENTS *
LOVE OR DUTY *
* available from Severn House
LOVE OR DUTY
Rosie Harris
This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.
First published in Great Britain and the USA 2014 by
SEVERN HOUSE PUBLISHERS LTD of
9–15 High Street, Sutton, Surrey, England, SM1 1DF.
eBook edition first published in 2014 by Severn House Digital
an imprint of Severn House Publishers Limited
Copyright © 2014 by Marion Harris.
The right of Marion Harris to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs & Patents Act 1988.
British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data
Harris, Rosie, 1925- author.
Love or duty.
1. Poor children–England–Liverpool–Fiction.
2. Caregivers–Fiction. 3. Great Britain–History–
George V, 1910-1936–Fiction.
I. Title
823.9'14-dc23
ISBN-13: 978-0-7278-8361-2 (cased)
ISBN-13: 978-1-84751-503-2 (trade paper)
ISBN-13: 978-1-78010-505-5 (ePub)
Except where actual historical events and characters are being described for the storyline of this novel, all situations in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to living persons is purely coincidental.
This ebook produced by
Palimpsest Book Production Limited,
Falkirk, Stirlingshire, Scotland.
To Roger and Jenny Harris
Acknowledgements
With many thanks to Edwin Buckhalter, Kate Lyall-Grant and the wonderful team at Severn House. Also to my agent Caroline Sheldon and to Robert Harris for continuing to maintain my Web.
One
‘I can’t stop to talk about it now, Mother, or I will be late and you know how Arnold hates to be kept waiting,’ Penny Forshaw protested as she tilted her white straw hat to an attractive angle.
Penny was a slim and pretty young woman with neatly bobbed fair hair and light blue eyes, She was wearing a knee-length apple-green dress that emphasized her trim figure and shapely legs. As she fastened the single button of the white linen jacket she was wearing over it and pulled on her white gloves she took a satisfied look at her reflection in the full-length mirror fixed on the inside of the hall cupboard door.
‘Very well, Penelope, but we must fix the date as soon as possible,’ her mother went on. ‘There’s an awful lot involved in planning a wedding, especially one that is going to be as important as yours will be.
‘As well as our own family and friends there’s Arnold’s family to be considered. They may want to invite some of their important contacts in shipping circles. You and Arnold will want to invite your friends from the tennis club and the Amateur Dramatic Society as well as some of your other friends too. I need to prepare a list of names as soon as possible.’
‘Yes, Mother.’ Penny smiled patiently, knowing how much all this meant to her mother. ‘On our way back I’ll try and finalize the date with Arnold so that we can tell you at lunchtime,’ she promised.
If her mother had her way their wedding next year was going to be the most momentous occasion of 1925. Apart from deciding on when and possibly where it was to take place it seemed to Penny that she and her fiancé Arnold Watson were going to have very little say in any of the other arrangements.
When she’d mentioned this fact to Arnold a couple of weeks ago he had dismissed it as being of no great importance. ‘Simply think of it as delegating responsibility,’ he’d told her breezily. ‘It’s something I do all the time.’
When she’d pointed out that that was when he was at the office and dealing with business matters but their wedding was a much more personal event he’d simply dismissed the problem with a shrug.
‘Well, run along then and drive carefully,’ her mother said, her voice cutting through her thoughts. ‘Do remember, Penelope, that you are driving your father’s Humber and that it is twice the size of your little Baby Austin and far more powerful,’ she reminded her.
Penny nodded but didn’t answer because she knew that in the next breath her mother would remind her of how lucky she was to have an Austin Seven motor car of her very own and to have been taught to drive at her age. Instead, she picked up the keys to her father’s car from the hallstand and left before her mother could once again protest about her driving it and say she should have asked his permission before doing so.
It was a lovely warm summer’s day and as she gingerly edged the big Humber car out of the driveway of their large detached house in Penkett Road and into the tree-lined road she found herself squinting in the bright sunlight.
She took a quick peek at her watch and was alarmed to see that it was almost twenty minutes past twelve. The Royal Daffodil ferry boat bringing Arnold across to Wallasey from his office in Liverpool’s Old Hall Street, was due to dock at Seacombe Ferry promptly at twelve thirty. Arnold hated to be kept waiting even for a few minutes. Well now he would probably have to wait for much longer than that, she thought worriedly as she turned into Manor Road and joined the busy Saturday morning traffic.
As she reached King Street, the main road that would take her to Seacombe Ferry, she saw there was a hold-up. Cars and trams were all stationary while a stocky young man unloaded churns of milk from a horse-drawn float outside Webster’s Dairy.
Biting her lip in frustration Penny d
ecided to turn left down one of the side streets that led down to the Mersey. Going that way it might take her a little longer to reach the ferry but there would be far less traffic than there was in King Street so she would be able to put her foot down and make up for lost time.
As she drove along the promenade road, which ran parallel with the River Mersey, she could see the Royal Daffodil ferry boat was already churning its way through the grey water and would be pulling up at the landing stage at Seacombe at any minute.
Long before she reached there passengers began disembarking from the boat and making their way up the floating roadway. As well as office workers who had finished work early because it was a Saturday there were day trippers, eager to enjoy the summer sunshine. Some were boarding the waiting trams while others were walking along the promenade towards Egremont and New Brighton.
Suddenly Penny was aware of a ball bouncing across the road in front of her and almost hitting the windscreen of the Humber. Her heart raced as she applied the footbrake and simultaneously pulled on the handbrake in an effort to stop quickly. The next moment she felt a slight bump followed by a piercing scream that made her heart pound. Someone must have run out into the road after the ball, she thought in horror. Surely she hadn’t hit them.
As she breathed in deeply trying to quell the upsurge of panic that was making her feel nauseous she saw people were beginning to cluster around a small figure lying prone on the ground directly in front of her car and howling with pain.
By the time she had opened the car door and stepped out she found herself facing a crowd of irate day trippers. Several of them began shouting at her and accusing her of driving too fast and not looking where she was going; others were saying that women shouldn’t be allowed to drive.
A man who was bending over the child looked up and said that she was badly injured and needed to go to hospital. Penny felt numb as the crowd hassled her. She didn’t know what to do; she had never felt so helpless or so scared in her life. Someone pointed towards the newly installed red telephone box and told her to use it to call an ambulance. While she fumbled in her handbag to find some coins so that she could do so, others called out instructions about how to use the newfangled invention.
Penny was relieved when a uniformed policeman arrived on the scene and things immediately became calmer as he took control.
In a complete daze and full of remorse about what had happened Penny did her best to answer all the questions the policeman fired at her. She couldn’t take her eyes away from the tiny scrawny figure with matted jet-black hair lying on the ground in front of her car and still screaming with pain.
When the ambulance arrived the child was gently lifted on to a stretcher and covered over with a blanket. Penny turned up the collar of her linen jacket to try and control her own shivering as the child was then put into the ambulance.
As the attendant slammed shut the ambulance doors ready to leave she managed to move forward and grab at his arm. ‘Do you know the name of the little girl you’re taking to hospital?’
‘No!’ He shook her hand away. ‘Ask the policeman he’ll probably be able to tell you.’
‘Can you tell me the little girl’s name?’ Penny asked, turning back to the policeman who had been interrogating her.
‘Yes, miss. The child’s name is Kelly Murphy and she’s six years old and –’ he paused and flicked back a page in his notebook – ‘I’m told she lives with her mother Ellen Murphy in Cannon Court which is off Scotland Road in Liverpool.’
‘Is there no one here with her, she’s so small to be so far from home all on her own.’
‘She was on a day out with a party of older kids as far as I can understand.’
‘Have any of them gone to the hospital with her? Has her mother been told about what has happened?’ Penny asked worriedly.
The policeman frowned and then snapped shut his notebook. ‘It’s all in hand, miss,’ he told her stolidly.
‘Yes, of course. Such a terrible thing to happen; she must have darted out after the ball …’ Penny’s voice trailed off guiltily as she saw the impassive look on his face.
‘Can I go now,’ she asked quickly. ‘I was supposed to be meeting my fiancé, Arnold Watson, at Seacombe Ferry terminal at half past twelve and he hates to be kept waiting so he will be wondering where I am. You have my name and address so you can contact me if you need any more information.’
‘It’s not as simple as that, miss,’ the policeman told her, reopening his notebook, licking the stub of his pencil and then recording what she had said.
‘By rights I have to take you straight to the Police HQ in Manor Road so that you can make a full statement about what happened and sign it.’
‘Oh dear!’ Penny looked crestfallen. ‘Do you have to do that? Can’t I go there after I’ve collected Mr Watson from Seacombe?’
The officer shook his head. ‘I really ought to take you along there myself, miss.’ He hesitated as he looked at his notes and read her details again.
‘I see you live in Penkett Road, so is Captain Marcus Forshaw your father, miss?’ he asked deferentially.
‘Yes, that’s right. He’s a magistrate as I’m sure you know,’ Penny affirmed.
‘Well, in that case, if you report to the duty sergeant at Manor Road just as soon as you have picked up Mr Watson, I suppose it will be all right,’ he agreed reluctantly.
‘Yes, of course I’ll do that,’ Penny promised.
As she made to get back into the driving seat of the Humber, several bystanders who had witnessed what had happened pushed forward angrily as if to try and stop her leaving but the policeman waved them back.
Arnold Watson looking very much the successful young businessman in his well-tailored dark grey suit, pristine white shirt and grey and black striped tie was impatiently striding up and down outside the terminal. As Penny pulled up alongside him he made a point of consulting his gold pocket watch with a deep frown on his handsome face.
The moment he had seated himself in the car Penny explained to him about the accident and everything that had happened since. Doing so brought everything back and all her fears about how badly the child may have been injured flooded her mind. Within seconds she burst into tears.
‘Oh, Arnold, it was terrible; you should have seen the poor little mite lying there in the road screaming with pain. She looked all twisted and no one seemed to know how badly hurt she was. I was so frightened because the crowd that gathered were so hostile,’ she added choking back the deep sobs that seemed to shake her from head to toe.
‘Well, it’s all over now,’ he told her briskly as he patted her on the shoulder.
‘Do you really think so?’ She gave him a pleading look, her blue eyes still awash with tears. More than anything she wanted him to take her in his arms and comfort her but she knew that wasn’t Arnold’s style; not in a public place where everyone could see what was happening.
‘A couple of weeks in hospital and she’ll probably be quite all right and home again chasing round the back streets of Liverpool as if nothing had ever happened to her,’ he commented brusquely.
Penny bit down on her lower lip. ‘I do hope you’re right.’
‘Come on, we’d better make a move; your parents are expecting us for lunch and we’re late already,’ he said crisply. Once again he took out his pocket watch and frowned when he saw the time.
‘Oh dear! I’ve been told to report to Manor Road police station on my way home in order to sign a statement. I promised the policeman that I would do it the minute I’d picked you up so we’d better stop there on the way and do that. It should only take a few minutes; I gave the policeman all the relevant details,’ she added with a watery smile.
‘If the accident was that serious and they think you are in some way to blame for what happened then should you be driving?’ Arnold said, frowning.
‘If I don’t then how are we going to get home?’ Penny questioned. ‘We could take a tram I suppose,’ she added hesitan
tly, ‘but I can’t simply abandon the Humber; father would be furious if I left it here.’
‘Then you’d better let me drive. Furthermore we’d better go back to your home first and explain the situation to your father before you go to Manor Road police station,’ he told her decisively.
‘Do you really think so? I was hoping not to say anything about the accident when we got home; well, at least not yet, not until I know how seriously hurt the little girl is.’
Arnold shrugged. ‘We’re wasting time, Penny. You’d better move over into the passenger seat and let me take the wheel,’ he said firmly.
‘I’m not sure if I should let you drive,’ she protested hesitantly. ‘You’ve never driven this car before.’
‘Don’t be so naive, Penny. If you are caught behind the wheel after such a serious accident they could charge you with dangerous driving and you might be detained for hours or even arrested.’
‘I don’t think you can be right about that, Arnold,’ Penny protested.
‘Oh yes I am, which is why we are going straight back to your place before you go to Manor Road police station.’
‘But I promised …’ She wanted to argue with him and reminded him that the policeman had seen her get in the car and he had not said she couldn’t drive. Yet Arnold was usually so right in these matters that she said nothing.
‘The best thing you can do is to explain the whole situation to your father before you do anything else,’ Arnold insisted. ‘Remember it is his car that was involved and since he is a magistrate he won’t want that fact to be divulged to the local newspapers, now will he.’
‘Oh dear, I hadn’t thought of that!’
‘If you talk to him first it will give him the opportunity of finding a solicitor to represent you before you are charged. He might also want to have a word with the chief constable; after all, they are old friends and in the same lodge.’
They drove in silence, Arnold concentrating all his attention on the road. Several times Penny started to say something but she noticed the way Arnold’s shoulders immediately tightened when she began to speak, so she remained silent.