Blood Brothers. Josephine Cox

and his partner, and no one else. At least not until it might be finalised and others needed to know.

      Determined that the evening should be a success, she kept the conversation going on a lighter note, and soon everyone was in much better humour.

      The apple pie was served and enjoyed, and the meal finished with a glass of homemade cider, and then it was time for Frank and Joe to check the animals and make sure the lambing-pens were secure. In the meantime, Alice and Nancy cleared the table, while Tom went to snooze on the sofa.

      ‘God help us, will you look at that?’ Nancy brought Alice’s attention to the round, pink belly bursting out of Tom’s shirt. In fond tones, she told Alice, ‘Fat belly or no fat belly, I wouldn’t change him for the world!’

      They were taken by surprise when suddenly the middle button of Tom’s shirt flicked off and went skidding across the room and out of sight. ‘It was the apple pie that did it,’ Nancy screeched, and the two of them laughed until they ached. ‘It’ll take me a month o’ Sundays to find that button,’ Nancy tittered, dabbing her tears with the end of her pinnie.

      When a short time later Frank and Joe returned and the wine was brought out, Tom awoke, complaining, ‘There’s a draught in ‘ere.’

      ‘That’s cause you’ve lost a button and there’s a bare patch on your belly,’ Nancy pointed out dryly; though she was aching to laugh out loud, and so was Alice. ‘It came at us a hundred miles an hour,’ she declared with a straight face, ‘you’re lucky it didn’t knock somebody’s eye out!’

      Tom was having none of it. ‘If you’d sewed the damned thing on properly in the first place, it would never have worked itself loose!’

      Nancy refused to take the blame. ‘It’s that big belly of yours!’ she retaliated. ‘You look like you’re eight months pregnant! Too much booze and apple pie, that’s what’s done it.’

      Ignoring her, Tom filled everyone’s wine glass. ‘Here’s to us!’

      Without further ado, they all toasted the forthcoming wedding. After that they sat and chatted, with another glass or three to warm the cockles. Tom was unusually merry, and Nancy was well on her way to being three sheets to the wind.

      Apart from Frank’s embarrassing declaration, the evening had been a great success; though things had been learned and the true nature of certain people revealed.

      Frank believed he was right and that Alice was wrong. Tom had seen a side to his eldest son that he did not particularly like, and Nancy had deliberately put it all out of her mind, because like Alice, she was already thinking ahead to the two most exciting events on her personal calendar. The wedding, and to a lesser degree, the barn-dance.

      After washing up the dishes and feeling all the merrier with the wine, Nancy even did a little Irish jig to show Alice her favourite dance. ‘The nuns taught us at school.’ She put her arms stiff by her side. ‘You should never jiggle your arms about, because then all your energy goes into your arm movements, instead of down to your feet.’ And to prove her point she went skipping across the room, feet a tapping, and arms stretched down at her sides, stiff as two pokers.

      Everyone clapped to Nancy’s fancy footwork, each with a happy smile on their face.

      ‘Give over, woman!’ Tom laughed, ‘You’re too old in the tooth to be prancing about like that. Keep it up and you’ll likely not be able to walk in the morning.’

      ‘You’re just jealous because you can’t do it!’ she teased.

      ‘I could if I tried,’ he argued with a grin, ‘only thing is, if the rest of my shirt buttons fly off, who knows what might happen!’

      Nancy laughed. ‘We’d all have to dive for cover!’

      Reverting to his original concern, Tom told her, ‘Whether you like it or not, Nancy Arnold, we’re not youngsters anymore. We’re a bit slower than we were, and far too old to be happy.’

      ‘Away with you, Tom Arnold!’ she chided. ‘You’re never too old to be happy. You’re only too old when you’re on your way to the knacker’s yard.’

      To prove it, she hoisted her skirt and while staying in the same spot, she let her two feet loose on a fast and furious tapping of the Irish jig. ‘My old Irish grandfather taught me this one.’

      Seeing Alice tapping her feet and clapping along, Nancy grabbed hold of Alice who soon got into the fast and furious rhythm; though both she and Nancy almost collapsed with exhaustion in no time at all. ‘That’s enough for now,’ Nancy clasped her chest. ‘I reckon you’re right, Tom,’ she told her husband, ‘I might be a bit too old for the tapping after all.’

      In the meantime, having helped himself to a lion’s share of cider, Frank was feeling the worse for wear. ‘I’m off to bed.’ He gave Alice a sloppy kiss, before stumbling drunkenly up the stairs.

      A few minutes later Tom followed, then Alice, and then Nancy. ‘Are you sure you’ll be all right on the sofa, son?’ Giving Joe the folded blanket and a pillow, she offered her cheek for a goodnight kiss. ‘It was good of you to give up your room for Alice.’

      ‘Don’t you worry about me, Mum,’ he smiled cheekily. ‘You’ve tired me out with watching all that dancing and tapping. Give it a few minutes and I’ll be out like a light. Go on…you get off to bed. You must be worn out with all that jigging about.’

      Growing serious, Nancy lingered a moment before asking quietly, ‘Frank didn’t spoil your homecoming with the arguing, did he?’

      Joe was quick to put her mind at rest. ‘Course not. Frank is Frank.’ He forced a smile. ‘Nothing changes in that respect.’

      Nancy lingered nervously. ‘Sometimes I wonder about Frank,’ she confided in a whisper, ‘…he should never have spoken out like that, embarrassing Alice in front of everyone.’

      Joe promised her, ‘I’m sure he didn’t mean to upset anyone, and I don’t think Alice was embarrassed; in fact I think she quietly gave him food for thought. So, don’t you worry. It’ll all be forgotten in the morning.’

      Nancy gave a sigh of relief. ‘It’s so good to have you home, son.’ She then ambled her way across the room and on up the stairs to a well deserved good night’s rest.

      Joe smiled when he heard her cussing herself as she went, ‘Whoops there, Nancy keep your balance! Hey! I reckon you’ve had a drop too much wine.’ She gave a hearty chuckle. ‘I reckon we all have. Dearie me! I expect we’ll suffer for it in the morning.’

      ‘You’re right, Mum!’ Muttering to himself, Joe pulled the blanket over his head. ‘I expect we will.’

      After Nancy had gone, he lay awake, thinking about Alice.

      He felt it his duty to be best man at his brother’s wedding. Once he’d made up his mind, he vowed that whatever else happened, he would keep his distance from Alice.

      He promised himself to think only of her as his future sister-in-law, rather than the girl he had fallen head over heels in love with.

      This evening though, when he saw how she had dealt with Frank’s boasting, in a firm but tactful manner, and afterwards her childish joy as she danced with his mother, he knew then, that he would always think of Alice as the girl who stole his heart.

      He could see his life stretching before him, when Alice would always be there; his brother’s wife, and in time the mother of Frank’s children.

      He made himself a heartfelt vow. ‘However hard it might be, I’ll stand beside him as best man. I’ll stay to see them married. Then I’ll be swiftly away to make something of my life.’

      If he was to keep his sanity, what other choice did he have?