Classic Bestsellers from Josephine Cox: Bumper Collection. Josephine Cox

      ‘I knew something was going on,’ she said with a knowing smile. ‘Though I didn’t like to mention it, we haven’t had any wedding presents. Is everyone in on this surprise of yours, whatever it is?’

      ‘Don’t ask questions, Mrs Hanley,’ he gave her a wink, ‘… and you’ll get told no lies.’

      Half an hour later, while Rosie was thanking the guests, John went to the landlord and collected the portmanteau he had brought here the day before. ‘We need to get changed,’ he explained. ‘Is it still all right for us to use that back room?’

      ‘Whenever you’re ready,’ the landlord confirmed. ‘There you are, son.’ Handing the portmanteau over, he wished John well. ‘You found a good ’un there,’ he commented, gesturing to where Rosie was laughing at Archie’s little joke.

      Catching Rosie’s eye, John held up the portmanteau and she understood. While she drew the conversation with Archie to an end, John made his way to the back room. By the time Rosie arrived, he was changed and ready to leave. ‘I just need to have a word with Lizzie,’ he told her. ‘Harriet says to leave our wedding clothes here, and she’ll take care of them.’

      Rosie was impressed. ‘You seem to have organised everything,’ she said suspiciously. ‘I wish you’d tell me what you’re up to.’

      ‘You’ll soon find out. Be as quick as you can. I’ve put your clothes on the chair.’ He had the portmanteau with him. ‘I’ll take this.’ It held all their necessities for the night.

      First stop was Archie. ‘I hope she likes what I’ve done to the cottage,’ John said to his old mate.

      ‘She’ll love it!’ Archie had no doubts on that score.

      Going quickly round the guests, John thanked them all, and they wished him well, and then it was Lizzie. ‘Are you happy, son?’ She was concerned for him, and Rosie too. Ever since she had received his invitation, Lizzie had wondered if her nephew was making the biggest mistake of his life. ‘Now I’ve met her, your Rosie seems a nice enough lass – a lot like Emily, I think. But I’m so worried you might have got wed for the wrong reasons.’

      ‘Don’t be,’ he said cheerfully. ‘I’m doing what you told me. I’m getting on with my life the best way I know how.’

      Lizzie looked at him through tearful eyes. ‘I so much want you to be happy.’

      ‘How can I not be happy,’ he said, holding her hand, ‘when I’ve got you?’

      Just as he’d hoped, she smiled through her tears. ‘Go on with yer!’

      ‘That’s my Lizzie!’ He held her in his arms awhile. ‘We’ll talk tomorrow,’ he promised, and as he walked away, she seemed a little more content.

      By the time he’d organised a carriage, Rosie was ready to leave.

      Outside, everyone waved them off. ‘What are you up to, John Hanley?’ Rosie was loving every minute.

      ‘Just you sit back and relax,’ he told her. And she did, mainly because her feet were aching from all the dancing after the wedding, and her new shoes didn’t help either.

      When they reached the boatyard, they boarded the waiting barge, and were soon on their way. ‘Now I really am worried!’ she said, only half-joking. ‘You’re surely not making for the site, are you?’

      ‘I am.’

      ‘Do you intend setting me to work, is that it?’ she laughed.

      ‘I might.’

      ‘My God! I’ve married a bully-boy.’

      Negotiating the barge through the waters, he smiled at her from the tiller. ‘I hope you like your wedding present.’

      ‘What if I don’t?’ She knew now it must be to do with the cottage. It was common knowledge how he had busied himself behind the screen for months on end, not even allowing herself to enter.

      ‘Archie says you’ll love it.’

      ‘Oh, I see!’ She feigned indignation. ‘So Archie’s seen it, has he?’

      ‘Apart from myself he’s the only one.’

      ‘Well, hurry up, then, husband. Get me there quick, before I faint from curiosity.’

      On arriving at the cottage, John carried her over the threshold. ‘I can’t believe it!’ Rosie could hardly trust her own eyes. Running from room to room, she was overwhelmed. ‘It’s beautiful!’ She flung her arms round him. ‘Oh, John! It’s just perfect. Thank you. Thank you!’

      A couple of the men had been in to lay and light the fires, keeping an eye on them until the hour John had said he’d be back. Rosie threw off her warm, outer clothes and danced jubilantly around the small house, exclaiming with delight at each new treat, while John lit the lamps and put the brand new kettle on the range for a welcome pot of tea – their first in the new home. He was tired but very pleased with Rosie’s – his wife’s – unfeigned pleasure. He wanted her to be happy.

      Later, when the first rush of excitement had settled to a feeling of contentment, they opened their presents together.

      There was a flat-iron; a blue and cream china tea-set; a pair of cushion-cases; a pretty lamp; lavender bags that scented the air and other useful items that were made to suit different rooms in the house. ‘You asked them to buy things for the cottage, didn’t you?’ she said, and this time, when she threw her arms round him, she didn’t let go. Guiding his hands, she helped him to unbutton her pretty lilac blouse and to slide it off her shoulders. The single strand of pearls he had given her as a present gleamed in the soft light and he gazed at the fullness of her breasts beneath the virginal chemise.

      ‘Make love to me,’ she whispered naughtily. ‘I’m your wife and I demand it.’

      ‘You’re a hussy!’ He smiled at her boldness. ‘But you’re so pretty, how can a man refuse?’

      There and then on the peg-rug in front of the fire he took her to himself, with reluctant passion at first. Inevitably, and much because of Rosie’s unbridled enthusiasm, the passion deepened and in spite of his misgivings, he could not hold back. To Rosie, and to John, the lovemaking was both satisfying and beautiful.

      Afterwards they sat together on the rug, looking into the fire. ‘Got another little surprise.’ John opened the lid of the portmanteau and reaching inside, extracted a bottle of best wine. ‘Compliments of the landlord,’ he quipped. There were two glasses, a bottle-opener and a large pork-pie as well.

      Filling the glasses, John handed Rosie one and holding his glass to hers, he said quietly, ‘Here’s to happiness and contentment.’ Though without Emily, he couldn’t help but wonder if he would ever find either.

      ‘I’ll make you a good wife, John, I promise.’ It was as though Rosie had read his thoughts.

      ‘I know,’ he answered. ‘And I’ll do my best to make you a good husband.’

      ‘And we’ll build our business up to be even bigger and better.’

      ‘The best in Liverpool, if not the world,’ he teased her.

      ‘And later, we’ll have children, won’t we?’

      ‘Dozens,’ he laughed. ‘All pretty and hardworking, like you.’

      ‘Oh, so that’s why you married me, is it?’ she demanded with a playful dig in the ribs. ‘Because I’m a work-horse?’

      ‘Of course. Why else would I marry somebody who can’t fry an egg without burning it to a cinder?’

      She laughed out loud. ‘I wish I hadn’t told you about that now.’

      Their laughter rippled across the room, before in a more sober mood she reminded him, ‘I know we didn’t