Classic Bestsellers from Josephine Cox: Bumper Collection. Josephine Cox

You can go back to her now and plead with her to leave the husband she’s taken in your place. If she agrees to that, you have to ask yourself if you could ever trust her again. Moreover, you’ll be taking on another man’s child, and all the aggravation that goes with it, because I dare say he won’t take it lying down.’

      John had already considered all that. ‘If I thought Emily could still love me, I’d take on the world if she asked,’ he confessed. ‘Only I saw her there, with him and the child.’ It was like a moving picture in his mind; the mature Emily, so beautiful, so happy with her family. ‘She was like someone I never knew before.’

      ‘Ah, that’s it, y’see, son.’ Archie had known many women in his time. ‘Women are changeable creatures. It’s in their nature – they can’t help it. And it’s not surprising how, in the space of time you’ve been away, your Emily has grown from a girl to a woman.’

      ‘You’re right.’ John had been astonished at the change in Emily. ‘She’s more beautiful than I remembered, especially when she took the child into her arms. It was a lovely thing to see.’

      Cutting through John’s bitter-sweet smile when he spoke of her, Archie reminded him, ‘The truth is, she’s chosen another man over you, and that’s hard to accept. It’s your pride, son. A man’s pride is easily dented.’

      John gave a wistful smile. ‘Pride has nothing to do with it,’ he murmured. ‘You can’t know how it was between us; nobody can. Emily may have turned from me to another, but I still love and want her. I always will.’

      ‘Then I pity you.’ Archie had never seen a man so devoted.

      Taking a gulp of his ale, John asked, ‘Go on then, Archie. What was the other thing?’

      After half a jug of ale, Archie’s memory was not what it used to be. ‘What other thing?’

      ‘You said there were two things I could do.’

      Archie’s brain limped into action. ‘Oh yes. Well, it’s simple enough, I should have thought.’

      Urging him on, John asked, ‘In what way?’

      ‘Your woman chose another man over you; they got wed and now she has a family she loves, and from what you told me, she seemed more than happy enough with her lot. Is that correct?’

      John confirmed it was so.

      ‘So now, you’re within your rights to do the same.’

      ‘And what exactly would you have me do then, Archie?’

      ‘Cut loose, man! Why! You could choose any woman that took your fancy. Lord knows, you’re a good catch for any of ’em. You’re a fine figure of a man – fit and strong – and you’ve money in your pocket.’

      John laughed, but it was a sound without mirth. ‘I’ve no mind to do any such thing.’

      ‘Then you’re a fool!’

      ‘Aye, and I’ll stay a fool.’ The idea of any other woman taking Emily’s place was unthinkable.

      ‘Then listen to me and listen good, son.’ Leaning forward, Archie spoke in a stern voice and with the merest scowl on his face. ‘No man should martyr himself for a woman who turns her back on him. If she has a husband and child, then there’s no going back that I can see. She’s made her bed and you’ll do well to let her get on with it. You’ve a life to live, and every minute spent brooding over her is a minute wasted. If you can’t see that now, you soon will.’

      Something about the old sailor’s manner, a kind of rage, made John think he must have suffered a similar experience. ‘Is that what you did, Archie?’ he asked curiously. ‘Did the same thing happen to you that happened to me?’

      For a long moment Archie stared into his ale. ‘It might have,’ he admitted. But he would not be drawn further on the subject. ‘All I’m saying is, if you brood after one woman for the rest of your life, you might as well not have a life.’

      The two of them drank in silence, their thoughts going back to their own lives and recalling how it was before, and each of them knowing it would never be like that again. It was a sobering thought, and the more they thought the more they drank.

      Yet they had their wits about them, and even now, though he wished it was any other way, John was musing over a plan that would take them forward. ‘What was your real trade?’ he asked of Archie. ‘Before you went as a cook on the ships?’

      With a mischievous little smile, Archie held high his jug of ale. ‘Delivering this on a horse and cart,’ he revealed. ‘Thirty years and more, I drove for Thwaites’s Brewery … delivered all over the North, from when I was little more than a lad, right up to the day before I signed my name to be a sailor.’

      Quietly pleased with Archie’s answer, John had more questions. ‘So you know how to handle a horse and cart?’

      Archie stuck out his little chest. ‘I was the lead driver – that should tell you how good I was.’ He chuckled. ‘All done up in my breeches and red jacket, there wasn’t a finer sight to be seen.’ Giving a wink, he revealed, ‘I had my fair share of women then, I can tell you.’

      John could well believe it. ‘So, you know the North well, do you?’

      ‘I do, son, yes – better than any man.’

      ‘And who made the wagons?’

      Archie had to think hard on that one, but by and by he had the answer. ‘A family firm by the name of Armitage,’ he said. ‘The father owned a sawmill and the two sons made the wagons in a yard alongside. As I recall, each was run as a separate business.’ He cocked his head as he told John, ‘I were told the father passed on some years back, and the sons took over the timber business. But they can’t still be going, ’cause they’d be as old as I am now. Unless o’ course they too had sons and the tradition got carried on.’

      John could see everything falling into place. ‘Where was it situated, this timber business?’

      ‘About four miles away, more in the countryside. The business lies alongside the Leeds and Liverpool canal – it’s easier y’see, for transporting and delivering the timber on the barges.’ Now it was Archie’s turn to be curious. ‘You’re asking a lot o’ questions. What’s all this about?’

      John had not wanted to reveal his idea until he had made some more enquiries and could be sure what he was getting into, but now that Archie was asking, he decided to outline his plans for the two of them.

      ‘You recall I told you how I earned my living by repairing and building wagons, hay-carts and such … not in a big way, mind you, but I know a wheel from an axle and I had sufficient customers to bring in a fair enough wage.’ His voice fell to a whisper. ‘It was more than enough, until Emily and I got serious about the future.’

      ‘I see.’ Turning the idea over in his mind, Archie swallowed the dregs of his ale. ‘And how do you mean to go about starting such a business?’ he asked. ‘It won’t be easy. And I’m only saying that because I know there are enough well-established firms who supply all the wagons around these parts. What makes you think you can find an opening? And if you do find it, how could you secure enough customers to keep you going?’

      John had already thought about that. ‘Back home there were some who said I was the best. Any cart or wagon I made or repaired, outlasted all the ones brought in from the big towns. I took a pride in what I did, Archie. I built and repaired everything the way I’d want it myself … strong and lasting, with the stamp of quality.’

      ‘Ah yes, but folks don’t want to pay for that.’ Archie had been around long enough to know the score. ‘Build it fast and sell it cheap, never mind quality.’

      ‘But that’s false economy,’ John argued. ‘There must be sharp-minded folks who’d rather pay a few guineas more for something that will last twice as long. My thinking is this – if there’s