A Mother’s Gift: Two Classic Novels. Josephine Cox

for her not being there.

      ‘I’m truly sorry to see ye go,’ she told Lucy now, ‘but I’m happy for you, so I am. You’ll have your own front-door key and Jamie will have his own little room, and when me and the girls come acalling, you’ll have fresh-baked muffins ready for us, and a big pot o’ tea waiting.’ She gave a wink. ‘Unless o’ course you’ve a drop o’ the good stuff hidden away in the cupboard for an old friend?’

      With the sadness lifted, Lucy laughed out loud. ‘Oi will,’ she answered, mimicking Bridget’s strong Irish accent. ‘Sure Oi’ll have a little bottle tucked away and ye can drink to your heart’s content, so ye can.’

      Bridget roared with laughter. ‘Ye sound more like me than I do me self. Go on, ye little divil, be off wit’ ye!’ She gave her another hug, and craftily dropped a couple of coins into the palm of her hand. ‘A little something to get ye started. Take care of yourself, m’darling,’ she said softly, and before she might start blubbering herself, she sent Lucy on her way.

      A few minutes later, along with her few belongings and the child on her knee, Lucy settled herself in Barney’s wagon.

      ‘Any regrets, lass?’

      The young woman shook her head. ‘Not a one.’ The only regrets she had were old ones, and now they didn’t seem to matter quite as much.

      When he arrived at Bridget’s house, Barney had greeted Bridget and the girls with his usual friendliness, and now he was leaving with Lucy beside him, he said his goodbyes with the same warmth, for that was his manner.

      ‘All set, are we?’ He had witnessed the emotional scene between Lucy and her friends, but like Lucy, he knew her leaving was all for the best.

      ‘All set,’ Lucy replied, a brief rush of sadness clouding her face.

      ‘Then you’d best hold on tight because once I let this wild animal have its rein, there’s no telling where we might end up!’

      His little attempt at making her laugh worked wonders, because she laughed so hard she couldn’t reply. Pleased with himself, he gave her a warming wink, gently slapped the horse’s great wide rump to drive the bumbling animal forward, and told her in that quiet, no-nonsense manner, ‘You did the right thing.’

      And that was all he would ever again say on the matter.

      As the shire ambled away down Viaduct Street, Lucy turned to look at the four women standing on the doorstep, and as they waved back, she blew a kiss. ‘I’ll miss you,’ she murmured.

      Barney glanced at her. ‘There’s your past and ahead is your future,’ he said simply. Barney Davidson was known as a man of few words, but when he took a mind to speak, his few words said more than a vicar delivering a sermon.

      As they meandered along, Lucy considered his wise words, and she knew he was right. After everything that had befallen her, this was the start of a new life, where she could put all the bad things behind her and start over again.

      At long last, she had something to look forward to.

      Once they were beyond the city roads and were heading towards Comberton, she watched Barney take the old briar-pipe and his baccy pouch from his waistcoat pocket; letting loose of the reins he gave the horse its head, and after carefully packing the pipe with the baccy he struck a match on the sole of his shoe and lit up. He then drew leisurely on the pipe, the twirls of smoke rising to slowly evaporate above his head.

      Suddenly in the midst of his thinking, he turned to smile at Lucy in that comforting way of his. At the time, Barney’s wonderful smile merely warmed her heart, though inevitably bonding her to him.

      It was many years later when, looking back on that magical, intimate moment, with the child asleep and the two of them gently following the narrow country lanes, Barney contentedly smoking his pipe and the sound of the birds singing all around, Lucy realised she must have fallen hopelessly in love with him then – and she never even knew it.

      Barney Davidson. A wise and kindly man who knew the earth as if it was his own; a man who had the heart of a lion and could protect the weak, that was Barney.

      Just for now though, misinterpreting her deeper feelings, Lucy saw Barney only as a very dear friend. No more than that.

      Yet, even though many a moon would shine before she came to realise the true depth of her feelings for him, Lucy already knew in her heart and soul, that she would never meet his like again.

       Chapter 9

      THE WEEKS PASSED and already it was the end of July.

      Lucy and Jamie had settled in well to Mr Maitland’s vacant cottage. It was almost as though they had lived there forever. Lucy was happier than she had ever been; every day was like a holiday. Her life was filled with new experiences and here in the countryside where she was a part of the greater picture, what had previously seemed to her like mountainous problems, now seemed almost trivial.

      She counted herself fortunate to have such friends as the Davidsons; they were a joy to be with. Working or relaxing, every minute in their company drew her more and more into their family.

      Sometimes on a Sunday evening, Bridget or one of the girls from Viaduct Street would visit, and they would sit and talk, and laugh to their hearts’ content. Lucy made sure to keep a measure of the ‘good stuff’ hidden away for when Bridget came. ‘Oh, you’re a darling – what are ye?’ Tipping up her glass and warming the cockles of her heart, Bridget would dance and sing and go home all the merrier.

      As arranged, through the week Lucy worked with the Davidsons, and on Saturday morning she went up to Leonard Maitland’s house, where she did the ironing and other jobs like cleaning his silver. After midday her work was done and the weekend was her own, to enjoy the cottage and play with her child.

      Each day saw Jamie grow more and more sturdy; he now was very active and the fresh air was doing him a power of good. He loved his new family and had begun to talk in his own way to them all. Everyone loved the little toddler and enjoyed having him around the farm.

      On this particular Saturday, Lucy was replacing the silver in the display cabinet, just about to finish her morning’s work, when she heard voices in the next room. ‘Sometimes I’m not sure I’m cut out to be a farmer’s wife.’

      ‘Hmh! I wish you’d told me that before I put an engagement ring on your finger.’

      There followed a girlish peal of false laughter and the light-hearted suggestion, ‘Oh, Lenny! Why don’t you sell everything – this house, the land and cottages. We could move down to London – or go abroad! It would be so wonderful to travel. We could stay away for a whole year … see the world, do something exciting.’

      There was a brief silence, then the woman demanded, ‘Are you deliberately ignoring me?’ Another silence, then in sterner voice: ‘Leonard! Did you hear what I said?’

      ‘I heard, and yes, I am deliberately ignoring you, Pat. We’ve had this same conversation so many times I’m beginning to tire of it.’

      Only the thinness of a wall away, Lucy recognised the voices of Patricia Carstairs and Leonard Maitland. She tried hard not to listen and even softly sang to herself, but the voices grew louder and angrier, and she couldn’t help but overhear every single word.

      ‘Yes, and so am I tired of it!’ Anger trembled in her voice. ‘Whenever I take the trouble to drive over and see you, you’ve either got your head buried in paperwork, or you’re out with your man discussing tractors or some such thing, or overseeing a delivery. Yesterday, and not for the first time, I came here to find you ensconced in your office with two other men, and even when you knew I was here, you just popped your head round the door and excused yourself. My God, Leonard! You didn’t come out for a full hour, and I was made to hang around like a dog at its master’s heels. These days, you hardly