Josephine Cox 3-Book Collection 2: The Loner, Born Bad, Three Letters. Josephine Cox

‘Come home, where you belong.’

      Slowly shaking his head in despair, he clicked the old horse on; this time at a sedate and dignified pace.

      After all, with the way things were, there was no hurry now.

Chapter Four

      ‘LOOK, MAM, HE’S home. Dad’s home!’

      Tom’s daughter Judy had been watching for him these past two hours. Now, as she saw the old milk-cart turn the bend in the lane, she took to her heels and ran to open the gate of Three Mills Farm. Her dad was back, and she needed a hug.

      Tom saw her coming and his heart burst with pride. How had he come to father such a lovely creature? Small-boned, with long willowing sun-kissed hair and eyes soft and grey as a dove, she was like a rainbow after rain to him.

      Right from when she was a toddler, Judy had been behind him everywhere he went, and now at the age of twelve, it was the same; whether he was milking the cows or stacking the hay, she was there. Most days, before and after school, she helped him in the fields or the barn, and when he was painting the house, she went before him, washing the picture-rails inside or the window-sills outside, or holding the ladder in case it slipped and he broke his worthless neck.

      And when she wasn’t helping him or her mammy, she was running across the valley with the local dogs at her heels. Other times she would sit quietly with the fishermen at the river, thrilled when they caught a fish and put it back, and sad at heart if they took it home to cook it.

      From a tender age, Judy was drawn to the water at every turn; Tom and Beth daren’t let her out of their sight in case she slipped into the river. So, when she was little more than a year old, they took her into the water and, as they expected, she loved it. Swimming had come naturally to her, until she was as much at home in the water as the fish themselves. ‘Should’ve been born with a tail and fins,’ her parents joked.

      When she wasn’t swimming or watching the fishermen, the little girl was running down the towpath, racing the barges as they made their lazy way alongside. She was kind and curious, totally fearless, and wherever she went, her smile went with her. Although her parents grieved that no other babbies had come along after her, to keep her company, they idolised their precious gift of a daughter.

      ‘Where’ve you been?’ When the cart was slowed down, she scrambled up. ‘We’ve been looking out for you.’ Wrapping her arms about his neck, she gave her dad a long, affectionate cuddle. ‘Mam says you’ve been down the pub having a crafty pint.’

      ‘Does she now?’

      ‘Yes. She said you’d be talking and drinking and forget the time.’

      He laughed at that. ‘Another time she might well have been right, but not today, lass.’

      ‘So, where were you then, Daddy?’

      His smile fell away; his mind full of images he would rather not recall. ‘I didn’t get the milk-round done as quickly as I might have. Y’see, I were held up with summat entirely unexpected and it threw me right out of the routine.’ What with finding Davie’s mammy and taking her to the undertakers, then the police quizzing him, and afterwards serving his loyal customers and finishing the deliveries before going back to look for Davie, the day had sped by without him realising.

      ‘You promised to take me fishing. Did you forget?’

      ‘No, lass, I didn’t forget. Like I said, I had urgent business to attend to.’

      ‘What kind of business?’ Clicking the horse on, she let it amble towards the stable.

      ‘It’s not summat I want to talk about just now, our Judy.’

      Seeing his downcast face, she drew the horse to a halt. ‘Has something bad happened?’

      ‘Get along with you now,’ he urged tiredly. ‘It’s been a long day and I’ve a need to talk with your mammy.’

      Something in the tremor of his voice made her keep her silence. She wanted to know what had upset him so, but for now she could wait. And so she clicked the horse on again. ‘Mammy’s got the dinner all ready,’ she promised. ‘It’s your favourite – steak and onion pie.’

      Normally he would have smacked his lips at that, but not today. Today, Judy sensed he had something deeper on his mind. She realised it must be something very serious, otherwise he would have told her.

      For now though, she wisely left him to his thoughts and concentrated on the way ahead.

      Just as Judy promised, Beth had the meal all ready to serve. ‘Late again, Tom Makepeace!’ She tutted and fussed, and wrapping the tea-towel round her hands she took the meat pie from the oven. ‘It’s a wonder this pie isn’t burned to a cinder, and as for the vegetables, I wouldn’t be at all surprised if they’ve turned to pulp.’ She might have continued with her good-natured scolding, but his thoughtful mood made her cautious. ‘What ’ave you got to say for yerself then?’

      ‘Not now, love.’ Heartsore and weary to the bone, Tom washed his hands at the sink. After drying them on the towel hanging from the range, he dropped himself into the armchair. ‘I’m beaten, lass,’ he muttered. ‘It’s been the worst day.’

      Making the pie safe on the table, she wiped her hands on her pinnie and came to him. ‘Whatever’s wrong, Tom?’ She knew her man all too well, and she knew there was something troubling him deeply.

      He glanced anxiously across the room at Judy who had returned from the stable. ‘Come here, lass. There’s summat you both need to know.’ He recalled how deeply devoted to Davie she was, and he feared the effect his news might have on her.

      With trepidation, Judy came to her mother and the two of them waited for Tom to explain. ‘It’s bad news,’ he warned grimly. ‘I’m sorry, but there’s no easy way to tell it.’

      And so he told it straight; how Davie’s mam had come home drunk and abusive once too often, and of how, after too long being patient and forgiving, her husband had walked out.

      ‘Oh, no!’ Beth was shocked. ‘What about the boy and his grandfather? Couldn’t they persuade him to stay and give it one last try – for Davie’s sake if not for theirs?’

      ‘Is Davie all right?’ Judy’s anxious question turned Tom’s heart.

      ‘Hear me out, lass. I’m not done yet.’ He enveloped them both in the sweep of his gaze.

      Instinctively clinging to her mother, Judy fell silent; and Tom continued.

      Firstly he answered Beth’s question. ‘From what I could gather, Don didn’t want to leave without Davie, but the boy decided to stay behind, with his mammy.’ He paused and sighed, then quietly continued. ‘It seems the grandfather had come to the end of his tether, too. There was a row of sorts, and after Don left, the old man threw Rita out, bag and baggage.’

      He quickly imparted how the boy had decided to go with his mother and look after her as best he could, though his grandad didn’t much care for that idea. In fact, old Joseph was so upset that he told them both to sling their hooks and good riddance, more or less.

      And then he relayed the worst news of all.

      ‘I was driving past the woods during my round when I heard young Davie shouting for help. His mammy had suffered a fall and hurt herself badly. By the time I got to her, she were drifting in and out of consciousness.’ He recalled the sad sight of her, and cleared his throat. All day long, he had wanted to make his way back home to Three Mills Farm, and confide the news to his wife, for it was she he always turned to when in times of trouble. But events had taken over and, as it turned out, there was little opportunity.

      He described how he had followed the