The Runaway Woman. Josephine Cox

fishing, playing darts down the pub or kicking a ball about on the green with his friends.

      After Anne married, and with Sam increasingly leading his own life, Lucy was mostly left on her own.

      Inevitably, the distance between her and Martin began to widen. One time he came home so drunk he could hardly stand. ‘A mate of a mate was out on his stag do,’ he lied, ‘so we decided to make a night of it.’ Lucy made no comment, but from the whiff of cheap perfume she suspected he may have been enjoying female company.

      After the second drunken episode, he gave no explanation, and Lucy asked for none. Consequently, the gulf between them became a chasm, with Lucy feeling increasingly isolated.

      She had learned to take the good with the bad, but lately she had grown increasingly restless. One way or another things would have to change. She had no idea how or when, yet change they must, because if they continued as they were now, she would likely spend the rest of her life regretting it. Now, heading towards her fortieth birthday, she assumed that half her life was already gone; did she really want to spend her latter years wishing she had found the courage to put herself first, especially now, with the children grown up?

      With that thought burning in her mind, she made her way downstairs. Usually after a bad night there was no spring in her step, but today was different. Never before had she felt so defiant.

      If she truly wanted it, she believed that she could make a change. She could rebel. She could do something outrageous – something she had never done before.

      But then the doubts crept back. Where would she start? What would the family say if she was to do something out of the ordinary? As Martin had once remarked, ‘You could set your clock by our Lucy. Always on time, and everything in its place, that’s her.’ The idea of timid Lucy Lovejoy actually rebelling was unbelievable.

      But then the more Lucy thought about it, the more excited she became. So what if she was coming up to her fortieth birthday – surely it wasn’t too late to step out of her routine? To do something so brave and wonderful that she would remember it for ever? What was so wicked about that?

      Her imagination ran riot. Twirling round the kitchen, she listed her unlikely ambitions aloud in a singsong way: ‘I could go dancing till dawn, or run full pelt along the promenade, in nothing but a tiny swimsuit and flimsy throw-on. Oh, and I might even book myself onto a big cruise ship … and sail off to exotic places.’

      But then suddenly her mood changed as she sat down at the table. Who am I fooling? she asked herself. I’ve got no money to speak of, and anyway it’s too late now. It’s such a pity, though, because there are so many exciting things I’ve never done. I’ve never been to London, or a theatre, and though I’ve always wanted to, I’ve never learned to roller-skate … The sorry list of lost opportunities was endless. She had never worn a short, swingy skirt, or had a ride at a fairground. Never even learned to swim. In fact, she had never done anything exciting or daring. ‘You’re a hopeless case, Lucy Lovejoy!’ she declared.

      Instead, she had become a watcher. Watching the children play in the sand. Watching everyone else enjoying themselves while she minded the bags or the pram, or kept the towels dry while they were swimming at the local indoor pool. She had always been a shadow in the background. Hardly noticeable, always in demand to smooth the way for the family. In the end, there was never any time for her.

      She never complained, so it didn’t cross anyone’s mind that she might want to live a little, to join in the fun while someone else watched the bags and the pram.

      Lucy cast her mind back. She was sure there must have been times when the family did ask her to join in but, for whatever reason, she never did.

      As always, blaming herself was easier than blaming them.

      Aware of the clock ticking away on the wall, she began to set the table for breakfast. Silly old fool! she told herself. You’re a hopeless daydreamer. Always have been. Put it all out of your mind and get on with the life you have. To have an adventure you need youth on your side, you need money, and you definitely need a plan. You have none of those. At your age a new adventure is just a pipe-dream.

      Even so, the idea of a new life lingered.

      As she set about cooking breakfast, she couldn’t help but wonder what the neighbours would say if they found out that Lucy Lovejoy had done a runner.

      She burst out laughing. It might be worth the adventure, just to see the look on their faces!

       CHAPTER TWO

      THE EGGS AND bacon were all nicely sizzling in the frying pan when Martin rushed into the kitchen. ‘For goodness’ sake, Lucy, I told you last night I wouldn’t have time for any breakfast this morning. What’s the matter with you? You even forgot to set the alarm clock for six. Thanks to you, I’m in a rush now.’

      ‘I can’t remember you asking me to set the alarm earlier, and anyway, if you were that worried about being late, why didn’t you set it yourself?’

      ‘Because you always set the alarm. I thought I could rely on you, but obviously I was wrong!’

      ‘I’m sorry, Martin. I had a lot on my mind.’

      Martin glanced at the tasty breakfast. ‘Good food wasted!’ he grumbled. ‘Hard-earned money down the drain, and all because you don’t listen!’

      ‘Look!’ Lucy hurried to the kitchen cabinet. ‘I’ve got fresh cheese and chutney. I’ll make you some sandwiches. It’ll only take a minute.’

      Throwing on his jacket, Martin was impatient. ‘I already told you, I have to get going! I’ve got three big jobs in progress, and an old biddy nagging me to fit a door at the top of her landing. I can’t believe you didn’t remember to wake me.’

      Lucy knew for sure he had not asked her to wake him, or said that he wouldn’t have time for breakfast, but she decided not to argue.

      She walked to the door with him. ‘It’s such a shame, Martin …’

      ‘What is?’ Pulling on his boots, he quickly laced them up.

      ‘Well, when you set up on your own you promised we’d be able to spend more time together … maybe even go out a couple of nights a week, but these past three months we’ve been out together just once. If you ask me, it’s worse than when you were working for the building firm.’

      ‘Is that so? Well, nobody’s “asking you”, so give it a rest, will you?’ He hurried to the door. ‘Look! I’m sorry if there was a misunderstanding last night … about the alarm clock and that, but I haven’t got time to argue. I’ll see you after work.’ And before she could reply, he was down the path and away, without even a backward glance.

      ‘You’ve got it wrong, Martin,’ she muttered. ‘I wasn’t arguing. I was just saying, things don’t seem to have worked out the way we thought they might.’

      When Martin climbed into his old van, she gave a little wave, but he didn’t see it. He was already roaring down the street.

      Disappointed, Lucy watched him until he disappeared from sight.

      After lingering at the door for a moment, she then retreated into the house, and closed the door behind her.

      Martin drove just a few streets away, then turned into a narrow alleyway. After inching his way along, he carefully parked the van into a deep curve on the bend. He took a moment to satisfy himself that there was no one about, before clambering out and running across the alley and into the back garden of one of the terraced houses.

      From the back bedroom window, a woman watched him approach. She smiled. ‘Naughty man!’ she murmured lovingly.

      Finding