Название | Josephine Cox Sunday Times Bestsellers Collection |
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Автор произведения | Josephine Cox |
Жанр | Классическая проза |
Серия | |
Издательство | Классическая проза |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9780007590667 |
She wagged a warning finger. ‘Watch your tongue and keep yourself to yourself, Brenda. I don’t want ye messing with the men tonight.’ She edged closer until they were eyeball to eyeball. ‘I swear, if I so much as see you look at a fella, I’ll thrash the arse off ye, so I will!’
Wisely, the young woman backed off. ‘What am I supposed to say if anybody comes talking to me?’
‘Oh, you’ll think o’ something, I’m sure.’ Bridget gave her a gentle shove. ‘Now be off and fetch me a glass o’ that wine they’re handing out.’
With everybody safe inside and a glass of best homemade wine in their hand, Barney stood on the chair and welcomed them all. ‘This is really a triple celebration,’ he said, winking at his wife. ‘Not only is it to mark little Jamie’s birthday and christening although the little chap in question has gone to his bed, but as most of you will already know, the Davidson family are away to start a new life in America.’
Pausing for breath, he thought about the imminent journey, and his secret heart was heavy. ‘It’s good to see you all here,’ he finished. ‘And now let’s have a toast – to Jamie … and America!’ There was an almighty cheer. ‘To Jamie and America!’
‘God bless you and your family, Barney, and all the luck in the world. It’s no more than you deserve.’ The glasses were raised again, and when they were empty, Vicky and Lucy and Susie were on hand to fill them up again.
While the toasts were given, Dr Lucas stood at the back of the barn and raised his glass along with everyone else. But, with the exception of Barney and Adam, he was the only one who knew that Barney might never be going to America. And if that was the case, then his family would not be going either.
It wasn’t long before the music started, in the form of old Victor and his accordion and beside him, the blacksmith, who could not only shoe a horse in record time but could also play a mean flute. Between the two of them, they played a merry tune and soonever the music struck up, the party-goers flocked to the dance-floor and let themselves go.
‘Would you look there!’ Barney nudged Lucy, gesturing across the dance-floor to where the butcher was swinging his wife round on the edge of his podgy arm. ‘I reckon he must think she’s a side o’ beef,’ Barney joked, ‘the way he’s chucking her about!’
Lucy’s attention was caught elsewhere. ‘It didn’t take Leonard long to get Vicky on the dance-floor,’ she remarked, and when Barney looked across he was taken by the manner in which his boss held Vicky, close and tight, as though he did not want to let her go.
The smallest surge of jealousy rippled through him. ‘Come on, lass, let’s show ’em how to do it!’ Grabbing her by the arm he ran her onto the dance-floor, and when the music suddenly changed to a waltz, he slid his arm round her waist and bent her to him. ‘You look lovely,’ he whispered in her ear. ‘I meant to tell you that soonever I saw you, all dressed up like a princess, with your pretty eyes shining.’
Lucy laughed. ‘Why, thank you, sir, and you don’t look bad yourself either.’
Secretly, she was thrilled to be in his arms, and as he moved her slowly round the dance-floor, she closed her eyes and imagined he was her real partner; having brought her to the dance, later, when it was over, he would take her home again. On the doorstep he would kiss her good night, and she would go to bed and dream of him.
She laughed as Barney swung her round again. She knew it would end, but it didn’t matter. Tomorrow was reality. But tonight was a memory she would keep forever.
While dancing with Lucy, Barney kept an eye on Vicky. Looking up at Leonard, she was talking, seemingly unaware that he might be holding her too close, or that he wasn’t listening to a word she was saying. Instead he was looking into her eyes, discreetly content to be holding the woman he loved.
Barney saw all this and now, as Vicky turned to smile at him, he smiled back and winked; pleased when his wife blew him a conspiratorial kiss.
Barney laughed with Lucy, and swung her round like a young man with his sweetheart, yet all the while he was thinking of the future, and his lovely Vicky. He knew how devastating the news of his illness would be to the family, and to her, and he would have done anything on God’s earth not to have to tell her. If only there was a way, he thought. If only he could somehow save his family from the pain and anguish they were bound to suffer.
In the darkness of his mind, an idea was growing; an idea which, in the fullness of time, would come to fruition and shape their destiny.
During the evening, Lucy would return to the farmhouse every so often; an old dear from the village was there, keeping an eye on little Jamie. ‘He’s the same as he was when you came in half an hour since.’ A widow these many years, old Meg now filled her life with looking after other people’s children. ‘He’s sleeping,’ she told Lucy with a toothless grin. ‘You go and enjoy the party, dear, and leave me to my knitting. Your little lad is safe enough with me.’
After going upstairs to check Jamie, Lucy gave the old woman a grateful kiss and returned to the party.
Outside in the shadows, Edward Trent emerged from his hiding-place and crept stealthily towards the barn. Placing himself where he would not be seen, he peered in through the window.
He saw Barney’s son, Ronnie, hand-in-hand with Lucy as he led her onto the floor. The two of them danced wildly to the rhythmic sound of the accordion, Ronnie playing the fool and Lucy laughing at his antics while he flirted outrageously with her.
When the music stopped and Lucy was making her way back to the table with Ronnie, his brother Tom came on the scene and grabbing Lucy, he led her back onto the dance-floor. The music changed to a slower tempo, and soon she was moving effortlessly round in his arms, chatting and smiling, and seeming at peace with herself.
Edward saw all this and the rage inside him knew no bounds. Thrusting his fists against the window it seemed for one moment that he might smash it from its frame. Then the music stopped and everyone was clapping, and when in that moment a woman turned towards him, he ducked down and disappeared into the shadows again.
‘What d’you think you’re doing?’ Ronnie demanded light-heartedly of his brother. ‘Stealing my woman from under my very nose?’
‘I rescued her,’ Thomas answered, stuffing a piece of pork pie into his mouth. ‘I could see she was fed up dancing with a four-footed idiot, so I thought I’d show her what a real partner could do.’
Lucy giggled. ‘Stop it, you two,’ she said. ‘I’m having a wonderful evening. You’re both good dancers and you know it!’
‘Ah, you’re just saying that.’ Ronnie searched the table for another chunk of fruit-cake. ‘I bet you’re really in agony from the number of times he’s trodden on your toes.’
At half past midnight the evening came to an end.
As they left, everyone said what a wonderful time they’d had, and how good the food was, and how they would be so sorry to see the Davidson family leaving.
Standing side-by-side at the door as they saw everyone out, Barney and Vicky thanked them all in turn.
‘I’ll see youse out and about before you sail away, so I will!’ Having downed more booze than she was capable of holding, Bridget was four sheets to the wind. ‘Oops!’ Laughing raucously, she hobbled out to the waiting car, clutching hold of her companion, her jacket stained with wine and her hitherto beautifully coiffured hair looking as if it had been through a wind-tunnel.
Behind her, Barney and Vicky walked arm-in-arm back to the house with Lucy and Susie, who had danced with her friends