Classic Bestsellers from Josephine Cox: Bumper Collection. Josephine Cox

there. Tutting and complaining, she fed them through the mangle, before hanging them on the line in front of the fireplace. Tugging the shirt into place, she shook her head. ‘Blue,’ she declared with astonishment. ‘And I’d have sworn it were grey.’

      Next stop was the big chest at the back of the room. From here, she took out armfuls of clean, neatly pressed clothes. When she’d finished matching them for size with Archie’s, she tucked them under her arm and made her way to the kitchen. ‘It’s a good job I keep a few spares,’ she told John. ‘Sometimes I have to confiscate the clothes in lieu of payment.’

      John was seated at the table, busy making notes and drawings. ‘Sorry, Harriet?’ He looked up. ‘I didn’t hear what you said.’

      ‘That’s because you’re deep in what you’re up to.’ Reaching her gaze forward she tried to get a glimpse of his work.

      ‘What was it you said before?’

      Harriet held up the garments. ‘I’ve found your friend some clean clothes.’ She showed him the selection. ‘These should carry him over until his own clothes dry out.’ There was a burgundy-coloured shirt, a pair of long-johns and a singlet, together with a jacket and trousers of similar colour to Archie’s own.

      ‘I should think he’ll be very grateful,’ John told her though, knowing Archie as he did, he couldn’t be sure. His old friend seemed to have taken against Harriet, and as for her part, she had shown little patience with him.

      Draping the clothes over the back of a chair to get warm near the fire, Harriet crossed to the larder and poured them each a glass of sarsaparilla. ‘Grateful or not, he’ll either wear them, or walk about naked.’ She chuckled. ‘From the little I’ve already seen, that would be a terrible sight for sore eyes.’

      Before taking a hearty gulp of her drink, she opened her little tin of snuff and applied a pinch to both nostrils. Then, seating herself beside him, she peered over John’s shoulder at the notebook. ‘What’s that you’re so intent on?’ she asked.

      ‘I’m making a plan.’

      ‘What kind of plan?’

      ‘A business plan.’

      ‘What kind of business?’

      John explained, ‘I mean to have my own timberyard and men in my employ. I plan on making wagons, you see.’

      Harriet thought he was a dreamer, just like many other men who had lodged here before him. ‘Dreaming and making are two very different things,’ she warned.

      ‘I’m aware of that.’ John, also, knew it only too well. ‘But I intend making this dream into reality.’

      She admired his ambitions, but, ‘Building a business takes a deal of money.’ She took a long gulp of her sarsaparilla. ‘Money and dedication, that’s what you need. Even then, it’s a long, hard struggle. More often you lose your friends along the way. Life can become very lonely. Have you thought of that?’

      ‘I’ve thought of everything,’ John imparted. ‘As for friends, if they turn their back on you when you need them most, then they can’t have been worth having in the first place, that’s my thinking.’

      Harriet nodded. ‘That’s true enough. But look, as I’ve just said, dreaming is one thing. Making it all happen isn’t quite so easy.’

      ‘I’m sure that’s true,’ John replied, ‘but a man has to have a dream.’ He thought about Emily. She had been his dream; his life and his future.

      Harriet’s voice interrupted his thoughts. ‘What are all these different areas?’ Pointing to the sections on his map, she listened while he explained.

      ‘These are work areas,’ he said. ‘Look, this is the office, and here alongside the canal, is where the timber will be lifted from the barges and stacked in different bays. The smaller sections are where the different pieces will be made and kept ready for use – such as wheels, axles, shafts and so on. Next to that is the larger area where the wagons and carts will be constructed. And the yard outside is where they’ll be lined up ready for collection.’

      She smiled at that. ‘You seem to have given over a large area for lining up the ready wagons. Does that mean you expect business to be brisk?’

      ‘Without a doubt,’ he answered with confidence. ‘I hope we’ve got so many orders coming in, that I’ll need to employ extra men.’

      Harriet drew his attention to the long bay at the back of the building. ‘And what’s this meant to be?’

      John followed her gaze. ‘That will be the repair shop.’

      Surprised by the detail he’d written into his plan, she asked pointedly, ‘I suppose you have the money for this grand idea?’

      ‘Not all of it, no.’ John was honest with her. ‘I saved every penny I could from my wages in the Merchant Navy, but some of that has gone. I’ll have to start out small – rent a yard or barn somewhere. I’ll begin by doing repairs, and take it from there.’

      ‘And do you think there’ll be an opening for that kind of thing?’ she wanted to know. ‘I mean, won’t there already be more than enough repair shops tending the wagons on the road?’

      ‘Well, that’s something I mean to find out, but according to Archie, there’s a shortage of good repair shops. Setting up my own shop will be the first step.’

      ‘What then?’

      ‘Well, I’ll get talking to the customers. One by one, I hope to persuade them to let me do more than just repair. I hope to show them how I can design and build top-quality wagons and such.’

      Harriet liked the sound of it all. ‘And push the big boys out, is that it?’

      ‘Something like that, yes.’

      ‘You’ve got your work cut out.’

      ‘I know that.’

      ‘And it doesn’t frighten you off?’

      John shook his head, a look of defiance in his eyes. ‘It only makes it all the more exciting.’

      Finishing her drink, Harriet prepared to leave. ‘I’d best go and see what that friend of yours is about,’ she said. ‘It wouldn’t surprise me if he hasn’t just stood in that room the whole time, shivering and shaking. In fact, it wouldn’t surprise me if he’s never once dipped his dirty toe in the water.’

      While John bent his head to his drawing, she ambled to the door. ‘I think you’ve got a good plan there,’ she casually remarked.

      ‘Why thank you, Harriet.’ It was good to have her believe in him.

      Her next throwaway remark took him aback. ‘If you’ve need of capital to help get you started, I’ve got some savings tucked away. Mind you, it’ll only be a loan. I’ll want it back with interest!’ She took out her little tin of snuff and tapped the lid.

      By the time John looked up, she was gone. ‘Good God!’ Her words echoed in his mind. ‘She offered me a loan.’ He could scarcely believe it. ‘Miss Harriet Witherington offered me a loan, and she hardly knows me from Adam!’

      He had left himself a sizeable sum of money, after providing for Lizzie, but it wasn’t enough to take him where he wanted to go. His idea had been to approach the bank and ask for a loan, though he didn’t think much to his chances. But Harriet had offered him a loan just like that. It was incredible.

      My God! he thought. If she really is serious, and she’s talking real money, I might just take her up on it. He laughed out loud. It was possible, of course, that Harriet’s idea of a loan wouldn’t even buy him a set of tools. He got back to his drawing. All the same, it was kind of her to offer.

      His estimation of the landlady had gone up when she offered Archie a few nights under her roof, but with this latest offer, his regard for her