Journey’s End. Josephine Cox

company she felt content. ‘Is the car all right?’

      ‘Running like silk.’

      ‘So, you’ll be away on your errands now, will you?’

      ‘That was the plan,’ he answered quietly. ‘Go into Bedford and collect the curtains you ordered, then visit the Post Office and the baker’s on the way back. Then I’ve the rest of the day to put the new shelves up in the outhouse.’

      ‘How long will you be?’

      ‘I can’t say for certain. Sometimes the road gets busy, sometimes it isn’t.’ Sensing her loneliness, he asked, ‘D’you want to come with me?’

      Lucy shook her head. ‘No.’

      Adam knew Lucy’s every mood, and at this moment he knew he should not leave her alone with her memories. ‘There’s nothing so urgent that it can’t wait till later,’ he said softly. ‘I’ll keep you company for a while – if you want me to, that is?’

      The tears still moist in her eyes, Lucy looked up. ‘Thank you, Adam, I’d like that,’ she whispered. No one alive knew her better than Adam, she thought fondly.

      Relief flooded through him. When Lucy was sad, he was sad. And he was always content to be with her even if only as a friend; though one day, God willing, she might come to see him through more loving eyes.

      He went over and settled himself in the chair opposite. ‘What’s wrong?’ he asked. ‘And don’t say nothing, because I know you too well.’

      ‘What makes you think something’s wrong?’

      He smiled knowingly. ‘You’re thinking of Barney, aren’t you?’ His voice was kind.

      Lucy nodded.

      ‘And you’ve been crying, haven’t you?’

      She nodded again.

      ‘D’you want to talk about it?’

      Drawing a deep sigh, Lucy confessed: ‘I can’t stop wondering about Barney’s other family … Vicky and the children. Lately I can’t seem to get them out of my mind, wondering where they are, and if they’re safe.’ She gave a nervous smile. ‘I won’t always be here, Adam. I’m getting old. How could I go to my Maker, with such a weight of secrets in my heart?’

      Adam gave a slow, knowing nod. ‘I understand how you feel, because I, too, often think about the others. To be honest, Lucy, I’m not sure if it would be kinder for them to know how it all came about. Or would the truth ruin what small contentment they might have found?’

      Adam’s concerns echoed in Lucy’s mind. ‘If they are to be told, it’s me who should do the telling. And like I say, I’m getting on now, and time is rushing by. I must soon decide one way or the other.’

      The very thought of not having her around filled him with dread. ‘Don’t talk as though you’re old and decrepit because you’re not,’ he urged. ‘God willing, you and I have many more years to enjoy, before our time comes.’

      For a moment Lucy reflected on his words, and as always Adam had brought a kind of quietness to her heart. ‘I hope so,’ she murmured. ‘But I can’t shut out the past, and I can’t see a way forward.’

      Adam felt the same, but his first instinct had always been to protect Lucy. ‘All I’m saying is, don’t torment yourself. For all our sakes, try and let it rest. For now at least.’

      Driven by doubts and guilt, Lucy reminded him, ‘Some time ago, you insisted that Mary was entitled to know the truth, and you were right. So, don’t you think they should know it, too? You say we risk ruining any contentment they may have found, but what if all these years they’ve never known peace of mind? What if the children have grown into adulthood, still carrying all the pain and anger that drove them away. And what of young Susie? Dear God, she loved her father with all of her young heart.’

      Lucy recalled the powerful bond between Barney and his daughter. ‘I can’t get her out of my mind. I see the two of them sitting on the swing in the orchard, talking and laughing … happy and content in each other’s company. She was so young, Adam. She knew only what she saw and heard, and that was a shocking thing. She never knew how Barney was suffering … how much he adored her. Susie was his darling little girl, and she went away hating him …’

      Her voice breaking with emotion, Lucy bowed her head. For a moment neither she nor Adam spoke, but when he reached out to lay his hand over hers, she grasped it tight, drew it to her face and held it there for a moment.

      To Lucy the moment was immensely comforting. Adam was right. He knew her as no one else could. He had travelled the years with her and Barney, and when Barney was gone, he was her beacon of light through days of darkness.

      Though he could never be Barney, Adam was a very special man.

      When the moment was gone, she released his hand and raised her eyes to his. ‘I try, but I can’t stop thinking about them – Susie, the two boys and Vicky, that lovely gentle woman who did all she could for me and Jamie – treated us like her own family. You know how devoted she and Barney were to each other, how they lived their whole life around each other. What happened to them, to the children, was so cruel, Adam … so terrible!’

      So many sunsets had come and gone since those days over twenty years ago, she thought. In her mind she cast her memory back to the time when she could run like the wind and her life was filled with sunshine and the joy of youth. But there had been pain too; such pain she had thought never to recover from it. But somehow life goes on and takes you with it, whether you want it to or not.

      Later, when everything else was lost, she and Barney had known their own joy together, and though it was for such a short time, Lucy had thanked the Good Lord many times over.

      After Barney had died from the heart disease that had destroyed his last few years on this earth, her life seemed desolate. But then Barney had left her with a new life: Mary, their daughter, had been her salvation. Along with her dear friend, Adam, that patient, endearing man to whom she owed so much.

      ‘Sometimes I think I’m the luckiest woman in the world.’ Speaking her thoughts in a whisper, she hardly even noticed that Adam was beside her.

      ‘Lucy?’ Adam’s quiet voice invaded her thoughts. ‘What are you thinking?’

      She looked up at him, her quiet eyes bathing his face. ‘I was just thinking how Barney and I had so little time together. The days went all too swiftly, and even when we were making love and Mary was conceived, I always knew it was Vicky he needed, and not me.’ Her smile was bittersweet. ‘I didn’t mind, not really. I would rather have had that small part of him, than live all of my life without him.’

      Adam had never heard Lucy talk of her relationship with Barney in that particular, intimate way. He felt embarrassed and humbled, yet proud that she felt able to impart such a confidence to him.

      Suddenly she had his face cradled in her hands, her warm blue eyes hinting a smile. ‘I’m sorry.’

      Relaxed in her gaze, he asked, ‘Why should you be sorry?’

      ‘I’ve been insensitive … talking of private moments with Barney, when I know how you feel towards me.’

      Adam did not want her to reproach herself, and so he led her away from that place. ‘Have you always known how much I love you?’

      Lucy’s smile was radiant. ‘You were never very good at hiding it.’

      ‘Did you think I was foolish?’

      ‘Never! Besides, I always loved you back. But not in the way I loved Barney.’

      Adam’s face crumpled in a smile. ‘It’s an odd world,’ he said. ‘I love you; you loved Barney; and he loved Vicky. The eternal triangle.’

      Letting go of him, Lucy sat back in her seat. ‘We can’t help the way we feel,’ she