Classic Bestsellers from Josephine Cox: Bumper Collection. Josephine Cox

My dear,

       I’m glad you’ve found a measure of happiness with this young lady called Rosie, though I must say, I hadn’t realised it had gone so far as you and she planning to be wed. All the same, if that’s what you want, then it makes me happy too.

       As you already know, I’m not good at travelling. But I’ll be there for you on the day.

       God bless. See you in a few short months.

       Lots of love,

       Auntie Lizzie

      The letter was duly signed and now she slid it back into its envelope and sealed it.

      ‘There you are, luv.’ Bessie returned with a tray of tea and two buns. ‘My poor feet feel like two raw chops,’ she groaned, dropping herself into a chair. ‘I don’t mind telling you, I’m ready for this break.’

      Oblivious to the fact that Lizzie would much rather be left alone with her thoughts, she launched into a harrowing account of how bad feet had always run right through her family. ‘My poor old mam was a martyr to them!’ she exclaimed. ‘A martyr!’

      Some time later, with her ears ringing about bad-smelling feet and relatives who suffered from wind, Lizzie made good her escape. Dropping her letter into the post-box, she had to smile. ‘Poor Bessie,’ she murmured as she went for the tram. ‘I think she’s the martyr, working all day on her own in that café.’

      A short time later, seated on the tram, she took out John’s letter and read it again, hoping with all her heart that he wasn’t leaping out of the frying pan and into the fire.

      In spite of the hope and assurances in John’s letter, the stark truth was unsettling. Here was a man, in love with one woman and about to wed another. What good could come of it? Lizzie wondered.

Part 5 February, 1910 Hidden Truths

       Chapter 14

      ‘WHERE ARE WE going?’

      Half-asleep, his hair standing on end, and with two small squares of paper stuck over the areas where he’d sliced himself with the razor, old Archie was none too pleased to have been dragged out of his warm bed.

      ‘For Gawd’s sake, it’s seven o’clock on a February morning!’ he grumbled as they boarded the early tram. ‘It’s freezing cold and what’s more it’s Sunday – my only day for a lie-in. You work me like a dog from Monday to Sat’day. You’d think I’d be entitled to a lie-in!’

      The three nights under Harriet’s roof that Archie had been grudgingly allowed had long since extended themselves to several years spent as the new lodger in the cosy back room – an arrangement that suited the little man down to the ground. Spruce and well-fed, he was more fond of his formidable landlady, and she of him, than either of them would ever admit.

      Ushering him to a seat, John slid in beside him. ‘I don’t know what all the fuss is about. If Harriet and me can get out of bed on a Sunday morning, why can’t you?’

      ‘Because I’m a poor old man, that’s why.’ Archie folded his arms sulkily and slunk deeper into the seat. ‘Wake me when we get there.’

      John let him sleep. He needed this quiet time anyway, to think about his future with Rosie. He had doubts – of course he did – but it had been years now, since he and Emily had made plans together.

      His love for Emily was as strong as ever and always would be. But he knew now that in spite of everything, Emily had never felt the same way, or she could not have turned her back on him the way she did. It had taken years for him to accept the truth of that. Years when he had hoped and prayed there might be a way in which he could turn back the clock, but that wasn’t to be, he knew that now. And painful though it was, he had to look forward, or live a lonely, empty life till the end of his days.

      Putting Emily behind him would not be easy, but he could no longer spend precious time yearning for something that could never be. Lizzie was right. It was time to accept that Emily had gone her way, and he must go his, for it was plain that they were never meant to be together.

      ‘Albert Docks!’ The conductor’s voice rang through the tram. ‘Last stop before we turn round. All off that’s getting off.’

      John gave Archie a nudge. ‘Time to go.’

      The old man didn’t hear. Instead, with mouth hanging open, he remained seemingly unconscious, his robust snores shaking the tram while John tried frantically to wake him, but with no success.

      ‘Here. Let me.’ Impatient to be on his way, the conductor leaned forward and, taking the end of Archie’s nose between finger and thumb, he held on tight and squeezed hard. At once the snoring stopped and Archie was fighting for air. ‘Gerroff!’ With arms flailing and feet kicking, he lashed out at all and sundry.

      ‘There you are!’ Giving John a triumphant wink, the conductor moved on. ‘Pinch the nose till they can’t breathe. It’ll do the trick every time.’

      As they got off the tram, Archie gave the conductor a hard stare. ‘I won’t forget you in hurry, matey.’

      ‘And a good morning to you, sir.’ The conductor tipped his hat and walked away grinning.

      ‘I’ve a good mind to smack him one!’ Archie rubbed his nose. ‘He could ’ave broken it!’

      Glancing at Archie’s bright red nose, John couldn’t help but chuckle. ‘It’s a good job the rozzers aren’t after you,’ he said. ‘See you coming a mile off, they would.’

      That tickled Archie’s funny bone, and at once his mood was lighter. ‘Where are we off to then, eh?’

      ‘Be patient,’ John answered. ‘You’ll know soon enough.’

      As soon as they turned the corner to the boatyard, Archie guessed. ‘You’ve finished the house, haven’t you?’

      ‘I might have.’

      Archie was excited. ‘You have!’ He gave John a nudge that nearly sent him hurtling into the canal. ‘What’s it like?’

      John told him to wait and see.

      They launched the narrowboat and were soon under way. On workdays it was a good half-hour to the site, but this Sunday morning, with fewer barges chugging about, the waterway was quieter.

      Twenty minutes later they had moored the boat and were on their way across the site. ‘I still can’t believe what you’ve achieved here.’ Not for the first time, Archie looked at the place where they worked and was amazed. Where the site had been unusable and derelict, it was now a thriving business, with large, well-designed buildings, a small office, and dozens of watercraft lined up in different stages of repair or construction.

      Instead of rubble and grass underfoot, it was all neatly paved, with areas of concrete and a slipway second to none, complete with winches and machinery to lift the craft out of the water like a child might lift a toy.

      ‘You’ve done yourself proud,’ Archie told him. ‘And thanks to you, we’ve all got work, so’s we can hold up our heads in anybody’s company.’

      That meant a lot to Archie. There was a time back there when he thought he’d end up a tramp like Michael. And now, even Michael was respectable, thanks to John.

      He mentioned the man now. ‘Funny that, you knowing Michael from before.’ Archie had asked about him many a time, but had always been given the same old brush-off. Now he tried again. ‘What did he do before? How did you know him? What made him turn out the way he did? Was it to do with a woman? It usually is.’