Josephine Cox Sunday Times Bestsellers Collection. Josephine Cox

young and randy, you can hold off the years for as long as you like, and bugger them as thinks you’re mutton dressed as lamb.’

      As she got into the car she had another piece of advice for Amy. ‘There’s something else ye should know.’

      ‘Oh yes, and what’s that?’

      ‘If you turn up late in the morning, you’ll be sacked.’

      With that daunting piece of news, she drove away, leaving Amy shaking her head. ‘You should be locked up,’ she muttered with a smile. ‘A woman your age should be at home with her feet up and a shawl over her legs, but oh no, not our Bridget, she’s got more important things to do. You defy old age, you scheme and fight and lie through your teeth to get what you want, and you show no mercy to anyone who tries to muscle in on your territory. The truth is, if you weren’t running a legitimate business, you’d make a first-class villain.’

      As she walked away, Amy thought to herself, I’ve a good mind to turn up late, just to see if you really would sack me. You’re a bully and a slave-driver, and you make me tired, just watching you run around.

      Bridget was like no one she had ever known. But, warts and all, she would not have her any other way.

      At that moment some short distance down the street, Bridget was engaged in a heated exchange with the milkman. Having pulled up in front of her at the junction, his horse had taken the opportunity to dump a load of manure all over the road in front of her; in the process splashing the bonnet of her Hillman Minx. ‘You filthy heathen!’ Shaking her fist at the man, she told him in no uncertain terms, ‘Look what your damned horse has done to me car. You should be put away, you and the horse along with ye!’

      When the milkman took not the slightest notice, she roared off, making a most unladylike gesture as she went.

      ‘Time was when old women stayed at home and waited on their menfolk!’ shouted the milkman. ‘But I don’t imagine there’s a fella this side of Australia that would take on a harridan like you!’

      After making another rude gesture, Bridget wisely put a fair distance between herself and the milkman. She didn’t want to cause too many upsets, especially with a policeman strolling nearby, and even more especially when she had never applied for a driving licence, nor ever had one granted.

      Coming into the quieter part of town, her thoughts soon turned to Lucy, and the ordeal she was about to face. ‘God bless you, Lucy girl,’ she murmured. ‘I hope it all goes well with you and Vicky.’ Like Amy, she did not envy Lucy the task ahead of her.

      Adam had been awake since the early hours.

      Concerned about the arrival this evening of the woman he still looked on as Barney’s wife, he decided to go across to Knudsden House and make sure Lucy was all right.

      From the front window, Lucy saw him coming. She too had been awake since the early hours. ‘Only a few hours to go,’ she told him as he walked in the door. ‘To tell you the truth, Adam, in my entire life I’ve never been so nervous.’

      Occasionally stopping to glance at the mantel-clock, she paced up and down, back and forth, now pausing at the window and looking out on the bitter-cold January morning. ‘I’m not sure if I’ve done the right thing. What if I’ve ruined all their lives?’

      ‘You can’t turn back the clock now, Lucy my dear, so don’t torment yourself.’ Adam had the same worries, but he did not want to convey that to Lucy. Instead he was doing his best to encourage her, because right now she was beginning to make herself ill.

      ‘I can’t help worrying,’ Lucy argued. ‘I’ve already caused a split between Vicky and Leonard. She said in her letter that I shouldn’t blame myself, but if I’m not to blame, who is? After all, it was me who put the cat among the pigeons so to speak.’

      ‘Look, Lucy, what you did was certainly not done out of malice. It was done out of concern: you thought they had a right to know. Well, I agree with that and so, it seems, does Vicky.’

      Lucy was still not convinced. ‘It might have been better though, if I had left well alone.’

      ‘Ah, but in the end, my dear, the truth has a way of sneaking out. Who’s to say Vicky or her children would never return home at some time in the future, even for a visit. They would find out then, wouldn’t they? There can’t be a single person in Liverpool who hasn’t learned the sad story of Barney Davidson, and they would tell it to anyone, neighbour or stranger. No, Lucy, you did right. What happened between Vicky and Leonard is something aside, which only the two of them can sort out.’

      Eager for peace of mind, Lucy nodded. ‘Maybe you’re right,’ she conceded hesitantly. ‘Maybe it would have come out sooner or later.’

      ‘Are you ready to face her tonight?’

      Lucy nodded. ‘Ready as I’ll ever be, I suppose.’

      Early that evening, the car was out and as he arrived Lucy was waiting at the door, looking smart and sophisticated in her high-necked cream-coloured jumper and skirt, with a coffee-coloured winter coat and dark shoes. Her greying hair was swept up in a loop of straying curls that framed her face, and she carried her best silver-topped stick; though she half-hid it in the folds of her coat. Even now she had a reluctance to show her slight handicap.

      ‘You look lovely as ever,’ Adam commented as he held open the door for her to climb into the back. Whenever he saw her, morning, noon or night, it was always the same; his old heart would leap to his throat and he had to stop himself from taking her in his arms.

      As they travelled through the country roads towards Bedford town and the railway station, Lucy wondered aloud, ‘What will she look like, do you think?’

      Adam glanced at her in the mirror. ‘I’m sure I don’t know,’ he answered. ‘She was lovely as a young woman, but not everybody stays as handsome as you.’

      Lucy laughed. ‘You old flatterer,’ she said. ‘Truly though, Adam, do you think we’ll recognise her?’

      ‘Don’t know. Can’t say.’

      ‘Do you think she’ll recognise me?’

      ‘I think so. Your hair’s a little greyer, you’re slower of foot, and we all know you’re not the young thing you once were, but then none of us is – Vicky included.’

      Lucy had to smile. ‘Well, thank you. Is that supposed to make me feel better?’

      Adam made no apology. ‘All that aside,’ he said, ‘you’re still so vibrant and your features haven’t changed all that much. You have the same slim figure and those wonderful, smiling eyes. I think she would have to be looking in the opposite direction not to recognise the Lucy Baker we all know and love.’

      For the remainder of the journey, Lucy fell silent, with Adam frequently glancing in his rear-view mirror to make sure she was all right.

      When at last they arrived at the station, he pulled up as near to the entrance as he could. ‘Do you want me to come with you?’

      Lucy thanked him. ‘Yes, I’d like that, Adam. But try if you can to keep a discreet distance when the train arrives. I don’t want her to think we’re there in force.’

      Adam understood. ‘Trust me,’ he said. ‘You won’t even know I’m around. But if you want me, I’ll be only a heartbeat away.’

      Lucy gave him a friendly peck on the cheek. ‘What would I do without you, eh?’ Adam was always there when she needed someone to share her fears and dreams. More and more she had come to rely on him. And today was particularly unnerving, for she was about to meet Vicky again for the first time in many years; Vicky, the beautiful person whom Barney adored above all others, and who had been cruelly robbed of her chance to say goodbye to him. Vicky, who had welcomed young Lucy and her little Jamie into the very heart of her family, and shown them both nothing but kindness.

      Adam was still pondering on her remark. ‘What would you do without