Classic Bestsellers from Josephine Cox: Bumper Collection. Josephine Cox

on the washstand was almost large enough to bathe in.

      ‘Look out of the window,’ she instructed, ‘and you’ll see what I mean.’

      Intrigued, John looked out.

      Just as she had promised, there was a clear view of the docks. In fact, some of the ships seemed so close you might think they would sail right into the room. At this time of the morning, there was much coming and going, with every sound melting one into the other. Curious, he opened the window and at once, the volume of life going on rose like a crescendo to fill his ears. Surprised, he quickly closed the window.

      ‘Well, what d’you think?’ Her voice rose above the medley of distant noise.

      ‘I’d like to see the other before I make up my mind,’ John decided.

      ‘Right then, young man! Follow me.’

      Gathering her skirts, she lumbered along the landing until coming to the second room. Here she stopped and flinging open the door invited him inside. ‘See what you make o’ that.’

      As in the first room, the dry smell of snuff tickled his nostrils, though he did wonder whether that was because Harriet was near him wherever he went. Either way he wasn’t too bothered by it. On board ship you had to endure many different smells; in their spare time, some sailors took comfort from chewing or smoking a wad of pungent baccy, or from drinking a drop of rum, and there were others who, like Harriet here, preferred a pinch of snuff.

      ‘I’ve a feeling this room will suit you better.’ Harriet’s voice boomed in his ear.

      ‘Maybe.’ As yet, John had not taken stock of it. When he did, he found it to be much smaller, and somehow not quite so homely as the other. Furnished much as the first room, it was definitely a far quieter place.

      On going to the window, he saw how it overlooked the back of a huge warehouse. ‘I’m sure this is much more suitable,’ Harriet told him. ‘The doors to the warehouse are at the other side, and all you’ll ever hear are a few bangs and noises, and the clip-clop of horses as they trot over the cobbles. All in all though, I would say there’s nothing to break your sleep, or disturb you in any way.’

      John thought about that, and felt unsettled all the same. ‘I prefer the other room,’ he told her. ‘I’m used to noise and besides, I reckon I’ll get a deal of comfort from all the comings and goings.’ He moved away from the window. ‘I wouldn’t be content in all this quiet. No, not content at all.’

      ‘Right! So now you’ll want to see the bathroom.’ With John in tow the big woman sailed out of the room, down the stairs and across the yard. In the outhouse she proudly gestured to her newly appointed bathroom. ‘This was the old wash-house,’ she explained, ‘but being as I don’t intend to spend what’s left of my life slaving over a hot tub, I now send all my washing to the laundry. This place seemed a waste of good space, so I got the workmen to fit it out as a bathroom. The only drawback is you might need to wrap up warm as you come in and out, especially in the winter months.’ She shivered. ‘Coming out of a hot tub and being thrust straight out in all weathers could cause a body to catch his death of cold.’

      In her abrupt fashion, she led him out. ‘Well, what d’you think?’

      John was impressed and told her so. ‘At home I’ve always been used to washing at the kitchen sink, or having a dip in the brook. A bathroom will be a luxury.’

      ‘The other lodgers don’t use it much,’ she revealed with a disapproving shake of her head. ‘Like as not, most times you’ll have it all to yourself.’

      So, it was settled.

      John paid his rent a week in advance, and was soon seated in Harriet’s kitchen enjoying a large cup of tea, and an even larger teacake. ‘Bought from the baker’s first thing,’ she told him proudly. ‘I never bake if I can help it. God only knows, I’ve more than enough to do without all that.’

      John was astonished. ‘You don’t bake? You send your washing to the laundry? By! You’re well organised, I’ll say that for you.’

      ‘Oh, I am that,’ she declared proudly. ‘What’s more, I have a little man round once a month to wash my windows, and a little woman once a week to polish the furniture, change the beds and beat all the rugs in the house.’

      She was very content with her leisurely life. ‘I saw my mother work her fingers to the bone to fetch up my six brothers and sisters. When they were old enough they left home one by one, and never contacted her again. Two weeks after the last one left, my father decided he was off as well.’ As she spoke, her fists clenched and unclenched. ‘Soon after he’d gone, my mother keeled over in the street and that was the end of her.’

      Tears of anger filled her eyes. ‘I long ago disowned my immediate family. After what happened to that good woman, I swore I would never be tied by man nor child, and from that day to this I’ve never regretted it.’

      John was sorry for the upset she had suffered and, to her surprise and gratitude, he told her so.

      ‘As far as I’m concerned, I’m best on my own,’ she went on, calmer now. ‘I’ve no responsibilities. I’ve got my own business, which pays for all the help I get, and nobody to answer to …’

      While she chatted on, seemingly oblivious to his presence, John supped his tea and let his thoughts drift back to Emily. It was barely forty-eight hours since he had left her behind, and since arriving here he had walked the streets, not knowing or caring where he was. Some blind instinct had brought him back to Liverpool, although he had now decided against going back to sea. Oh, Emily … he yearned for her.

      It was hard to understand that she could just stop loving him, especially when they had spoken at great length of their feelings for each other and their plans for a future life together. He truly believed she had been as sincere as himself. And now, seeing her like that, so idyllically happy with her new man, and the two of them blessed with a beautiful daughter, was soul-destroying.

      It all seemed so final. And however much he might want to change what had happened, he realised there was nothing he could do but accept the situation.

      Emily had stopped loving him. That was painfully clear.

      In the early hours, after arriving back in Liverpool, wandering the streets and trying to fathom out where it had all gone wrong, he had slowly begun to think more clearly, and what he thought was this.

      As far as he could see, he had two choices. He could either throw himself into the murky waters of the River Mersey and end it all, or he could be grateful that Emily had found happiness, and forge ahead to do the best with what Fate handed him.

      In the end there was no choice at all.

      Whether he liked it or not, however much it weighed on his heart, he had to make a new life without her.

      He had money in his pocket, and plans to make. Tomorrow he would look for his old friend, Archie.

       So, with that in mind he climbed the stairs to his bedroom, though he knew he would not sleep.

       How could he, with Emily so strong in his mind?

      Woken by the delicious aroma of bacon, John climbed sleepily out of bed. He had slept like a log, oblivious to any of the noises outside. His first thought was Emily; his second was the hard-earned money that would forge his future without her. Although he had left a substantial sum with Lizzie, he had taken enough to see him through, for a while at least.

      Always aware of thieves and opportunists, John had wisely taken precautions against someone stealing his money while he slept. He was sure that his landlady was vigilant in her choice of lodgers, but you never could tell. He’d locked his door too, mind …

      Going straight to the window, he took hold of the curtain and, drawing it aside, checked that his wad of money was still securely rolled into the hem. Archie himself had relayed the trick of hiding valuables in the curtain. ‘A thief will turn furniture upside