Classic Bestsellers from Josephine Cox: Bumper Collection. Josephine Cox

businesses was the best thing we ever did.’

      ‘I agree,’ she said. ‘Only I didn’t mean to fall in love with you. But I did, and to tell you the truth, I couldn’t be happier.’

      He smiled at that. ‘I’m glad, Rosie,’ he said sincerely. ‘You deserve to be happy.’ And so she did, he thought. Rosie was a delightful person, with a heart as big and kind as he had ever known, and though he didn’t feel the same kind of joy with Rosie as he used to when he was with Emily, he thought a great deal of her, in his own quiet way.

      Touching her hand to his face, she stroked it gently. ‘My happiness would be complete if only you could feel the same way,’ she whispered.

      Draping an arm round her shoulders, he drew her closer. He didn’t speak, because just then Emily came into his mind and subdued him.

      Rosie sensed his sadness, and curling into the crook of his arm, she let him know she was there for him. No matter whatever else might happen in the future, she would always be there for him.

      That night Lizzie’s conscience would not let her rest. Long after she had said good night to Harriet, she paced the bedroom floor, thinking and worrying, and realising, not for the first time, how she had been wrong all along. Wrong to turn her back on Emily; wrong to have jumped to conclusions when what she should have done was talk with the lass, try and help, instead of damning her from the outset.

      And she was even more wrong to have sent John away, believing the shocking lie that Emily was already wed. Maybe if she hadn’t interfered in such a high-handed manner, John and Emily might have salvaged something good from a bad situation, and neither of them would now be wed to someone else. They belonged together. They had always belonged together, and it was she who had driven them apart.

      It was striking two o’clock when Lizzie finally fell into bed, but even then she didn’t sleep. Instead she lay awake fidgeting and fretting, and wondering how she could put things right. She heard the hallway clock strike three, then four, but heard no more until Harriet tapped on the door at half-past seven.

      ‘I thought you might like a cup of tea,’ the big woman said, poking her face round the door. ‘For breakfast there’s toast, bacon and egg, muffins and porridge. Which do you fancy?’ Entering the room, she placed the cup and saucer on the bedside cabinet, surprised to see Lizzie making no effort to sit up. ‘Just tell me what you want and I’ll have it up here quick as a wink.’

      ‘Oh, I couldn’t face breakfast,’ Lizzie answered faintly. ‘Thank you for the tea though. It’s just what I need to get me going.’

      Having opened the curtains wider, Harriet seated herself on the bed. She noticed how slow Lizzie was in sitting up, and how, when she took hold of the cup, it rattled against the saucer. ‘Are you all right?’ she asked worriedly. ‘Did you not sleep well?’

      ‘I’m a bit woozy.’ Lizzie laughed it off. ‘I must have drunk too much wine last night.’

      ‘No, you didn’t.’ Harriet chided. ‘You had one glass, same as me, and you hardly ate anything, so it can’t be the food that’s upset you.’

      Lizzie brushed aside the other woman’s concern. ‘I’m allus slow to wake,’ she lied. ‘I’ll be right as rain, once I’ve had this cuppa tea.’ In truth she didn’t feel at all well, though she couldn’t quite put her finger on why.

      ‘If you’re sure?’ Harriet had no choice but to take her at her word, though she thought the old dear looked pale and worn. ‘I’ll leave you to get washed and dressed.’

      It was an hour later when Lizzie came down. Harriet had served breakfast to her one remaining guest, apart from Archie, and was just saying goodbye to him. ‘See you next month,’ she said, closing the front door and fishing out her tin of snuff for a welcome pinch or two.

      On seeing Lizzie, she explained, ‘He’s one of these unfortunate men who go round the shops trying to sell merchandise … He arrives here once a month and stays for two nights. Always seems worn out, poor thing. It must be hard making a living trying to sell things to them as don’t want them.’

      Eager for a womanly natter, Harriet soon had Lizzie and herself seated at the kitchen table, with a fresh brew in front of them. ‘Your nephew is a real credit to you,’ she said.

      ‘John is my pride and joy,’ Lizzie answered, her eyes shining. ‘He came to me as a little lad, and I took him in as my own son. It wasn’t easy, mind. We didn’t have much money and there were times when I thought I’d never manage. But we got through, and I’ve never regretted one single minute of it.’

      ‘And what do you think of Rosie?’ Dipping a shop-bought biscuit in her hot tea, Harriet tutted when it got sodden and fell in.

      Lizzie didn’t hesitate in her answer. ‘She’s a very pleasant young thing. I liked her.’ No one had been more surprised than Lizzie, when she took to Rosie straight off. ‘I do, yes,’ she affirmed. ‘I like the lass.’

      ‘She loves your John, that’s for sure.’ Fishing the melted biscuit out, Harriet licked it off the spoon. ‘Head over heels, she is.’ Swigging a gulp of her tea, she was confronted by another mouthful of biscuit, which she quickly swallowed. ‘You’ve only to see her with John, to know how much she dotes on him.’

      ‘I can tell that, yes.’

      For a long moment, while Lizzie sipped at her tea, deep in thought, Harriet discreetly regarded her. She thought Lizzie to be well past her sixtieth birthday, though she would never ask a lady her true age; it was too personal.

      In the same way Lizzie had taken to Rosie, Harriet had taken to her. She could see by the workworn face and the leathery hands that Lizzie had had a hard life. In many ways she wished she had met her earlier. They could have been good friends from the outset, but never mind, she told herself, we’ve met now, and we’ll meet again many a time, no doubt.

      Just then Lizzie glanced up. ‘Sorry!’ She was mortified to have been so rude. ‘I was miles away.’

      ‘Oh, that’s all right,’ Harriet assured her. She suspected Lizzie might be of the same mind as herself, with regard to John and Rosie so, daring to voice her opinion, she said warily, ‘I’m not so sure he loves Rosie – in the same way, I mean.’

      Lizzie was astonished. It was almost as though Harriet had seen into her mind. ‘What makes you say that?’

      Harriet explained, but with some reservations. ‘When John first came here we made friends straight off. There were times when we talked a lot, about life and stuff like that. He said something to me, about someone he loved … Emily, was it?’

      Lizzie felt relieved. At least John had spoken about her to someone. ‘What did he say?’

      ‘Not much – though you could see he desperately missed her.’

      Lizzie didn’t want to get into too deep a conversation about John and Emily, but she did tell Harriet, ‘Emily was his first love. They planned to wed, but things sort of got in the way. He went away to sea, and she found comfort in somebody else.’ She choked on the words. ‘She’s wed now, with a child – a delightful little girl called Cathleen, and –’

      Harriet finished the sentence for her. ‘And John returned home, learned the truth and started a new life here, in Liverpool.’

      Lizzie nodded. ‘He was heartbroken.’ She let slip a glimpse of what bothered her. ‘I was that surprised when I learned he was about to be wed. I worried he might be doing it for all the wrong reasons.’

      Harriet could understand Lizzie’s concern but, ‘Rosie is good for him. They look out for each other. He helped her and got her more work by repairing a badly damaged narrowboat.’

      She went on to explain how the two of them had got closer. ‘Later on, John bought the site he has now.’ The fact that it had belonged to her would remain a secret for ever. ‘Rosie ran the barges, and John built and repaired them. It was a