Josephine Cox Sunday Times Bestsellers Collection. Josephine Cox

waved her hand, as though to bring the conversation to a halt. ‘Now then, I hope you’re hungry. Our Elsie has really gone to town on our supper tonight.’

      ‘Who’s your Elsie?’ Vicky asked.

      ‘Elsie Langton is the wife of our local blacksmith. She lives in the village and comes to me every day,’ Lucy explained. ‘It’s too big a house for me to manage on my own these days and well, what with Mary’s flower-shop being so successful and all, we can just about afford dear Elsie. To be honest, we’d all be lost without her.’ Lucy knew she was gabbling on but Vicky seemed genuinely interested.

      ‘She takes care of the household things – cleaning and cooking and suchlike. She’s an almighty chatterbox, she’s even bossier than me, and at times she can be so infuriating you could happily strangle her,’ Lucy chuckled. ‘But she’s the salt of the earth, honest and hard-working, and totally reliable. She has a heart of gold and excels at everything she does.’

      Vicky was impressed. ‘She sounds wonderful.’

      ‘Oh, she is! In fact, she’s an absolute treasure. You will just love her, I know you will.’

      ‘Does she look after the grounds as well?’ Vicky was beginning to wish she had such a paragon back home in Boston.

      ‘She would, if she could get her hands on them. But no, the grounds are Mary’s domain. She grows all of our flowers, fruit and veg, plants them herself, digs and hoes, and spends hours out there, weeding and working in all weathers. The lass sells most of it in her shop or at market, and there’s still enough left over for the local charities.’

      Vicky was thrilled. ‘She really must take after her daddy, with such love for the land. Yes, I can tell that she must have green fingers, just like Barney, because even in this wretched weather, it’s easy to see how beautifully kept it all is here.’

      They were pulling into the drive of Knudsden House by then.

      Lucy was delighted by the compliment to her daughter. ‘Mary’s also got a couple of cows, which she milks by hand,’ she added proudly, ‘and a dozen hens that lay enough eggs to feed a whole congregation.’

      ‘So, your Elsie is never short of milk or eggs then?’

      ‘Not so’s you’d notice, no – though if she’s not complaining that she’s got too many, she’s moaning that she’s never got enough. You can’t please our Elsie no matter how hard you try.’

      As it happened, the very person herself was waiting for them as Adam helped them out of the car.

      ‘You’ll be the old friend that Miss Lucy’s been going on about from morning to night,’ she said, rushing forward, the hand of friendship outstretched. ‘I’m Elsie, general dogsbody and hard done by. How d’yer do?’

      Before Vicky could get a word in, Elsie was rushing on; ‘I expect that one’s already blackened me name, saying as how I’m a lazy good-for-nothing who can’t cook, can’t make a bed without leaving lumpy bits, and doesn’t know one end of a yard-broom from the other!’

      ‘Can’t keep quiet for a minute at a time, more like!’ Lucy laughed. ‘Behave yourself. Our guest is starving hungry and tired from the long journey, so be off and keep an eye on our dinner, please.’

      Elsie tutted. ‘See how she treats me?’ she enquired of Vicky. ‘Bossing and bullying. Do this, do that.’ Rolling her eyes to the clouds, she went inside and locked herself in the kitchen.

      Vicky laughed heartily. ‘You were right,’ she said. ‘She is an absolute treasure.’

      Adam went on ahead of them. ‘I’ll put this suitcase in your room,’ he told Vicky, ‘then I’ll make myself scarce for an hour.’

      ‘You don’t have to,’ Vicky told him.

      ‘I think it might be best,’ he answered. Knowing how these two had a lot of catching up to do, he insisted, ‘I’ll see you both in an hour or so.’ And before they could argue, he was quickly gone.

      As they walked into the hallway, Vicky looked around at the wood-panelled walls and long casement windows. ‘Oh Lucy, this is so lovely!’ she exclaimed. ‘So full of character. Is this where you and Barney lived together?’ There was a wonderfully warm, inviting atmosphere in this house, she thought.

      ‘We lived here, yes,’ Lucy replied thoughtfully, ‘for the short time we had. Poor Barney was in the last stages of his illness then. I sold the cottage that Mr Maitland kindly gave to me and … and Jamie – thanks to you and Barney – and we managed between us to buy this place, as it was very rundown and going cheap. Dear Adam has put his back into restoring it, over the past twenty years.’

      ‘And were you happy, the two of you?’

      ‘As much as we could be, under the circumstances.’ Lucy thought that a difficult question to answer.

      Resentment rose in Vicky. ‘It must have been very hard for you both.’ But her voice sounded tight.

      ‘It was. But we lived one day at a time, and somehow we managed to find a deal of joy in every moment.’

      Vicky’s thoughts were with Barney, and her heart ached. ‘I should have been here,’ she burst out. ‘I should have been with him!’

      Unsure how to deal with the situation, Lucy spoke her mind. ‘I wouldn’t blame you if you felt bitter … about me and Barney, I mean.’

      Vicky’s features hardened. ‘I am bitter,’ she replied hoarsely. ‘I’m angry because you didn’t think to bring me back earlier.’ Her voice rose in a cry of anguish. ‘You can have no idea of the heartache and regrets that haunted me … haunted all of us and still do!’ Turning away, she began pacing the floor. ‘And now when it’s all too late, I discover that Barney was ill when he sent us away – that he turned to you instead of keeping me by his side.’ Her eyes alive with suspicion, she swung round. ‘It makes me wonder how long the affair had been going on. Tell me, Lucy. Were you lovers right under my nose … all the time making a fool of me? Is that it? He had come to need you more than he needed me … even when he was dying?’ The last words came out as a howl.

      Horrified, Lucy took a step forward. ‘No, Vicky, you’re wrong! It was never like that!’

      As she reached out to touch her old friend, Vicky began sobbing, all the pent-up emotions let loose in a vehement tirade. ‘How can I believe you? You! A woman who took my husband to herself and bore him a child, when all the time none of us knew why he sent us away.’ She was almost screaming now. ‘You knew, though, and still you didn’t think fit to bring me back. I missed him so much … Oh dear God! My Barney, so desperately ill, and me so far away on the other side of the world!’

      Burying her face in her hands, she sobbed like a child. And when Lucy reached out, this time she did not flinch. Instead she fell into Lucy’s arms and clung to her, until the sobbing eased and her pain was bearable.

      Deeply saddened, Lucy continued to hold her. The tears ran freely down her own face and her heart was heavy with sadness.

      Eventually, Vicky raised her head and whispered, ‘Oh Lucy, I was just hitting out … I didn’t mean it.’

      Lucy nodded. ‘I know.’

      Vicky took a deep breath. ‘It’s just that … oh, I have so many regrets.’

      After a time, when the two of them were seated and quiet, Lucy had a question. ‘Did you find at least some measure of contentment with Leonard?’

      Vicky did not hesitate. ‘Yes, I did. But it was a strange contentment. It took a long time for me to regard him as anything other than a friend. Even then, it was as though there was something else, someone else, always there, between us.’

      She looked away, her thoughts going deep. ‘Even when I was with Leonard, laughing, working, building a home for the children, Barney was always there.