Classic Bestsellers from Josephine Cox: Bumper Collection. Josephine Cox

the minute. ‘Do you think she’ll sell it, or rent it out?’

      Rosie shook her head. ‘Oh, she’s long gone. Eight years ago, maybe nine, she was taken to the Infirmary and never came back.’ Pointing across the fields towards the village, she revealed, ‘She’s over there, poor Amy, at rest in the churchyard.’

      ‘So who owns all of this now?’

      Rosie shrugged her shoulders. ‘Who knows? Some say she had a daughter out of wedlock. Some say she left it all to a niece, who wants to remain anonymous. It seems nobody knows the real truth of it – or if they do, they’re not telling.’

      The story had been common gossip round these parts for many years. ‘I understand that Mr Leatherhead, the solicitor, hasn’t been able to locate her, so maybe it was all gossip, after all.’

      John was on the point of asking further questions when Archie came at the run from the brow of the hill. ‘JOHN!’ Racing to a halt, he bent his head, put his hands to his knees, and took a long, frantic breath.

      ‘Easy there, old-timer,’ John said gently. ‘What the devil’s got into you?’

      ‘It’s a cottage.’ Composing himself, Archie told John: ‘I’ve found a lovely cottage over there. It’s all locked up, but I had a peek inside. Looks champion, it does. Needs a bit o’ fixing, but that won’t bother us. Mebbe we could set up home in it and nobody would ever know?’

      John told him what Rosie had explained. ‘The best way to go about it is to see the solicitor dealing with it. There might just be a way we can secure the lot – cottage, land and the building.’

      ‘It’s just what you were after.’ Archie could see the sense in what John had to say. ‘Right – when do we go and see him?’

      Grinning from ear to ear, John slapped his two hands on Archie’s shoulders. ‘There’s no time like the present,’ he said, and turning to Rosie: ‘Don’t you worry. I’ll have your barge as good as new in no time,’ he promised. ‘But like I say, she’ll need shifting to higher ground, and if I have my way … into that there building.’

      Rosie wished him well. ‘When you’re ready, you’ll find me at the docks tomorrow morning. I’ve another cargo to bring back.’

      A short time later, she took them by barge down the canal, dropping the two men as near to Liverpool town centre as was possible. ‘Good luck,’ she called, and watched them hurry away.

      Her eyes, though, were for John only. I like him! she thought, dimpling. I like him a lot.

      Since her father’s accident there had been no time for anything but work, and certainly no time to be looking at men. But there was something about John; a kind of sadness maybe? Or was it because he didn’t seem at all interested in her in that way? Whatever it was that attracted her to him, John lingered in her mind long after he was gone from sight.

      Searching the area, John asked passers-by where he might find the address Rosie had given. ‘Turn left by the church and straight on,’ one old gent informed him. ‘Halfway down on your right, turn at the pawnshop, and there you are.’

      Within half an hour of leaving the barge, they were standing at the foot of the steps leading up to the office. The March day had turned cold, and the light was fading fast. Archie read the plaque on the wall. ‘ “J. T. Leatherhead, Solicitor”.’

      ‘That’s the one!’ John led the way up the steps. ‘If things go right, Archie,’ he said nervously, ‘we’ll be set up to start the business, and already with one customer waiting.’ This was his big chance, and come what may, he would not let it slip through his fingers.

      The girl at the outer desk was a sullen little thing. ‘Have you an appointment?’ she asked.

      ‘No, but I have important business to discuss with your Mr Leatherhead.’

      ‘He won’t see you without an appointment.’

      ‘Could you try him?’ John urged.

      ‘It won’t do any good.’

      ‘Please. It’s urgent.’

      Tutting like an old ’un, she clambered out of her chair. ‘I’ll try,’ she grumbled, ‘but I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed.’ With a haughty backward glance she hurried away to the rear office. ‘He’s a very busy man. I can assure you, he will not see people straight off the street.’

      John and Archie waited. They could hear voices, but not what was being said. ‘Let’s hope he’ll make the time to see us,’ John said anxiously.

      ‘Hmh!’ Archie was still bristling at the girl’s attitude. ‘Not if that young madam has her way, he won’t.’

      A moment later the girl returned. ‘Go through.’ Obviously angry at having been proved wrong, she gave them a shrivelling look and dropped into her chair with a thump. ‘He tells me one thing and does another. What’s the use of me being here at all, that’s what I’d like to know!’

      ‘Miserable young devil!’ Archie muttered as they went into the back office. ‘She wants her arse smacked!’

      ‘Ssh!’ John gave him a nudge. ‘Behave yourself.’

      The office smelled of snuff, old dust and decaying paper. The window was half-covered by shelves dipping from the weight of files and documents, which caused the whole room to be dark and dingy, and as for the man himself, he was so bent on his work, he didn’t even look up. ‘State your business, and be quick,’ he said, ‘I’m a busy man.’

      Mr Leatherhead was a big man, too. His considerable frame spilled over his chair, and when he spoke his jowls wobbled up and down like jelly on a plate.

      ‘Well! What is it that’s so urgent?’ Looking up, he now impatiently gestured at them to sit down.

      As simply and quickly as he could, John explained how they had discovered the land with the buildings and derelict cottage. ‘I’d like to buy it,’ he said, ‘if it’s up for sale.’

      ‘Well, depending on whether you have the money or not, it seems you might be in luck, young man, because it is in fact up for sale.’

      ‘What’s the price?’

      ‘There is no set price.’

      ‘Why’s that?’

      ‘It’s a long story, but to put it briefly, up to quite recently, I had not been able to locate the owner of this particular parcel of land. A month or so ago, however, I had instructions to put the land up for auction. There will be no reserve on price, but I expect the bidding to be high.’

      Taking off his spectacles, he vigorously rubbed his eyes, then, replacing them, he peered at them both in turn. ‘There’s no use you attending the auction if you haven’t got the funds available. Have you access to money?’

      John assured him, ‘I hope I can stand alongside any man there. But I will need an idea of what it might go for.’

      Mr Leatherhead shrugged. ‘There’s no telling in these cases,’ he said. ‘Oh yes, I know the whole place lies derelict. It will need a lot of work to develop it, but there are plenty of businessmen who have long registered their interest in this particular property, with its useful outbuilding, cottage, ten acres of good land – and all situated beside the waterway. There’s ample potential there, as you yourself must have seen.’ He looked at Archie, then spoke to John. ‘Can I ask what you would use it for?’

      John answered circumspectly, for it was never a good idea to show your cards this early in the game. ‘The cottage for living in, and the land for working,’ he said. ‘So now, if you want to tell me when and where the auction will take place, we’ll leave you to your paperwork.’ He couldn’t help but notice the piles of paper and files littered from one end of the desk to the other.

      Scribbling the information on a