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The Runaway Woman
Josephine Cox
No-one thought she had the courage…Those looking in from the outside think Lucy Lovejoy’s life is like any other, but at the centre of her family there is a big empty hole where all the love and warmth should be. Over the years, her children have watched while their father chipped away at Lucy’s self-confidence. Now the children are following their own paths, and Lucy has never felt more alone.When tragedy strikes at the heart of the family, it’s a wake-up call for Lucy. Everyone has taken a little piece of her, and she isn’t sure who she is anymore. So when Lucy faces a betrayal from those she loves deepest, she knows that it’s time to make a choice.Is she brave enough to find herself again?







Copyright (#ulink_6e90ad47-29b7-571c-8c17-7cd6aa1e1dfd)
Published by HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 1 London Bridge Street London SE1 9GF
www.harpercollins.co.uk (http://www.harpercollins.co.uk)
First published in Great Britain by HarperCollinsPublishers 2014
Copyright © Josephine Cox 2014
Cover layout design © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2014
Cover photographs © Mark Owen/Arcangel Images (woman); Mohamad Itani/Trevillion Images (house); Leszek Paradowski/Trevillion Images (path); Shutterstock.com (http://Shutterstock.com) (border)
Josephine Cox asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.
Source ISBN: 9780007419937
Ebook Edition © February 2014 ISBN: 9780007419944
Version: 2017-05-22

Dedication (#ulink_e4f6778d-c193-5d7f-97a3-102e8f417d2e)
This story is for every woman of every age who finds herself lost, lonely and afraid.

Remember – the sun often shines after the rain has gone.
For my Ken – as always.
Contents
Cover (#u76acc450-cf46-5958-a075-949e1a08aec4)
Title Page (#uff02030c-e13d-5070-8742-f706b8dc05a4)
Copyright (#u8af58b35-3815-5bd7-8114-4aa6b0219f45)
Dedication (#u6fe0ab52-f714-5bcc-8b1b-6de4416b3927)
A special message from Jo (#u17f2a55a-0a12-53ff-8fec-584c9ffa02e6)
Part One: No One to Turn to (#u8c7eac45-4f72-5e18-8457-b653114ae18a)
Chapter One (#u782ff894-8ee3-5307-9ea0-8823aed17593)
Chapter Two (#ub9ee8b4a-9b26-52a4-9be3-6e7ed36916b1)
Part Two: Revelations (#uc7864e6a-78f2-537c-905e-6e0a3bb7a9fe)
Chapter Three (#ub3c2ac6c-48c8-51bc-8a88-3e57bfdee2a0)
Chapter Four (#u224888ca-8a38-5d8d-a42c-9a16ec5b4434)
Chapter Five (#u551a297b-c63b-55b6-8298-255d1809667f)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Part Three: Lucy’s Brave New World (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Part Four: Painful Decisions (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty (#litres_trial_promo)
Part Five: Sometimes Dreams do Come True (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-One (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Two (#litres_trial_promo)
Celebrating the 50th book from the No. 1 Bestseller (#litres_trial_promo)
The Josephine Cox effect (#litres_trial_promo)
Praise for Josephine Cox (#litres_trial_promo)
Win a signed copy of The Runaway Woman (#litres_trial_promo)
Keep up to date with Jo (#litres_trial_promo)
Read on to discover more about Jo’s other fantastic reads (#litres_trial_promo)
The Broken Man (#litres_trial_promo)
Three Letters (#litres_trial_promo)
Midnight (#litres_trial_promo)
Born Bad (#litres_trial_promo)
The W6 Book Cafe (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Author (#litres_trial_promo)
Also by Josephine Cox (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)

A special message from Jo (#ulink_dcc8a4f7-502e-5f32-8291-7e54348c90b7)
Dear Readers,
It’s a very strange and exciting feeling to realise that I have written fifty novels, and that my stories have found a place not only in the UK but also in many far-off countries across the world. Many of the millions of people who have taken both me and my stories to heart also take precious time out of their lives to write to me in such heartfelt words; it’s almost as though I were a long-lost friend.
With every one of these much-cherished letters I always write back. Because of my many commitments, it may take a little longer than I would like, and it seems there are never enough hours in the day; but I would not want to change my life for anything. Over the years, at signings and events at various venues, I have met many thousands of my readers, who continue to correspond and share their lives with me, as I do with them. We also keep in touch through my magazine, Chatterbox, which HarperCollins sends out with each new book publication, and now through my Facebook page. Every reader knows me so well, and through their letters they feel they can trust me, and that I would never willingly let them down.
Having such a loyal, worldwide following is something I had never envisaged when I sent my first manuscript to the publishers, and now I feel as though I’ve been accepted into a huge, rambling family. I often think back to my humble beginnings in the backstreets of a northern cotton-mill town. Many of my experiences, good and bad, come into my stories. Characters both angelic and evil people my stories, as they do in life.
At the tender age of four, I would sit on the steps of our house and watch life unfold down the street. I was fascinated by everything around me – especially by the people simply following their daily lives, with all the ups and downs that happen. I took it all into my heart, where it was kept safe, and now those cobbled streets, their mysteries and characters fill my stories – the good and the bad, the darkness and the tears, the joy and the heartache. They’re strong stories, hard and real, with dramatic twists we never seem to expect. Not even I do.
In my fiftieth book, The Runaway Woman, I tell the story of Lucy Lovejoy, a hardworking woman, loyal and true to her family, unaware that her husband, Martin, is cheating on her in the worst possible way. In the wake of her discovery, both her life and the lives of her husband and family are turned upside down, and Lucy knows that this is the moment when she must take a stand. Her incredible strength throughout this turmoil, and in making some unimaginably difficult decisions, surprises everyone. Don’t judge Lucy too harshly. She is a woman on the edge, and, for both Lucy and her husband Martin, there is no easy way out. I have already started my new book, a dark story with many twists and turns. The characters have introduced themselves to me; the scene is set and, as always, I am raring to go.
I have so many stories waiting to be written, and my mind is forever taking me in new and fascinating directions. The truth is, with so much more to come, my fiftieth book seems like just the beginning …
With love always,


PART ONE (#ulink_b894a7af-5118-58e9-ac06-6614ec4fad1b)

(#ulink_b894a7af-5118-58e9-ac06-6614ec4fad1b)
Wayburn, Bedfordshire
1962

CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_7f24eadc-f9e6-5367-816f-6ccb0e0076bb)
DURING THE DAY, Lucy kept herself busy.
That way, she had less time to think about all that was wrong in her life.
At night, though, she would lie awake in her bed, her troubled thoughts wandering back over the years to when she was a fifteen-year-old schoolgirl.
Because of her shy nervous nature, Lucy had always found it hard to make friends. With her plump figure and lack of fashion sense, she believed herself to be unattractive, and unable to fit in with her peers. She was never whistled at, or chatted up by the boys at school, though that didn’t really bother her. As was her nature, she accepted the way of things and took it all in her stride.
Martin Lovejoy was a good-looking boy on the verge of leaving school that summer. Outgoing and flirtatious, he was commonly referred to as Jack the Lad, a title he wore like a badge of honour.
Unlike the other boys, Martin had always seen more to Lucy than her nervous smile and quiet demeanour. He thought her smile was pretty, and her shyness attractive.
Some of the other girls were shameless flirts who would offer themselves to any boy at the merest wink, whereas if Lucy was ever offered a ‘bit of fun’ down a dark alley, she would probably run a mile. But Martin meant to change all that.
While the other boys regarded Lucy as a shrinking violet who was not worthy of their interest, Martin thought they were missing a trick and, to everyone’s surprise, he set his cap at her.
He saw her as a rare challenge, a conquest to be made. A ripe apple, ready to be picked.
On a sweltering hot day during their final week as schoolchildren Martin Lovejoy made his move on Lucy; who could hardly believe that one of the most admired boys in the school had made a play for her.
Her younger sister, Paula, and some of the other girls tried to warn her against him, but she was flattered by Martin’s attention and chose to ignore their advice.
Later, though, she was devastated on discovering that she had made the biggest mistake of her life. By then it was too late. Life had taken her by the throat and forced her into a situation that she bitterly regretted – and still regretted, some twenty-four years on.
Now, with her fortieth birthday just a couple of weeks away, Lucy felt cheated, and desperately lonely. She’d spent all these years looking after her husband Martin and their children. She also worked, to help make ends meet. Yet she was deeply ashamed of these feelings, believing it was wrong to regret her life, especially when she had been blessed with a family, while many women had not been so fortunate.
Her husband, Martin, was a hard worker who had recently set himself up in business. He professed to love the ground she walked on and, as a dutiful wife, Lucy did her best to keep him happy, but for her, there was something missing from their marriage. Something precious that had been lost … way back there, on the long, lonely journey. He never said she looked nice, never noticed what she was wearing, if she looked tired, if she could do with a hand. Never noticed her at all, in fact.
Having suffered yet another sleepless night, Lucy lay very still in the bed, being careful not to wake Martin, who was gently snoring beside her. He was sleeping so peacefully, she was made to wonder if he ever thought about their lives together; about how futile and cold it all seemed.
Yet, for all her regrets and insecurities, Lucy had put her heart and soul into being a good wife, a loving mother and a loyal sister, even though sometimes she resented the manner in which the family took her for granted. They rarely ever asked her how she was, or how her day had been at the factory.
Over the years, she had suggested to her sister, Paula, that it might be nice to spend a pleasant hour or so shopping in Bedford, and maybe enjoying a light lunch before they headed home. Unfortunately there was always a reason why Paula could not go with her. Lucy accepted the situation without question.
She had offered her own daughter, Anne, the same invitation, but she was too busy, or going out with a friend, or just not in the mood. In the end, to avoid embarrassment, Lucy stopped asking.
Every year her birthday was almost a non-event. Even when she put on a little family party, they were either very late to arrive, or they presented an excuse for not arriving at all. She always received a present from Martin and the children, but because of other pressures or simply absent-mindedness, she often had to wait until the next day, when they would rush in with apologies. She never made a fuss, because what would be the point?
They hardly ever made time to sit and chat with her. Anne and Paula’s visits would be little more than a cup of tea, then a quick peck on the cheek and they’d be off out the door. More often than not, Martin would then go off down the pub. ‘I’ll not be long,’ he’d promise her. But it would be gone midnight when he got home.
Lucy was daunted by the fact that she would soon be forty years old, especially when she considered she had done nothing with her life. She had never seen much outside Wayburn, and as the years went by, the idea of travelling and doing the exciting things she had once dreamed of seemed increasingly out of her reach. She now feared her life would remain as it was until she became old and unable to make changes.
As with all the other birthdays, she wondered if this landmark birthday would arrive quietly and leave on tiptoe, though if it did she knew she would take it in her stride, as ever, while secretly wondering if her family could ever love her as much as she loved them.
There were even times when she asked herself if she was a useless wife, mother and grandmother. She hoped not, because her family was all she had. In fact, they were her very world. Consequently she felt it was wrong of her to ask more of them than they could give.
There was one bright side to Lucy’s life, however. She was immensely grateful for her job at the plastics factory. She took great pride in her work, and enjoyed the company of her lively colleagues. Chatting with them made her feel alive, because to them she was not just someone’s wife, mother or grandmother. Instead, she was Lucy, a well-respected and much-valued workmate.


Deep in thought, Lucy was startled to hear the hallway clock strike five. Careful not to wake Martin, she slithered out of bed and into her dressing gown, then she softly slid the eiderdown over the dip in the bed where she had lain.
Gazing down on her sleeping husband, she tortured herself with regrets. So many wasted years, she thought bitterly. So many lost dreams.
Inevitably, her thoughts returned to their two children. Sam was now twenty-one. Like all young men he could be bullish and unpredictable, but beneath all the bravado, he had a sense of purpose.
At twenty-three, Anne was her first-born. She was confident, easily hassled, and occasionally argumentative. She was the mother of Luke, almost one year old.
The thought of her only grandchild brought a measure of joy to Lucy’s heart. Full of life, he had a ready smile and laughing eyes that made you want to dance, and he was an absolute delight.
Taking a moment to close her eyes, Lucy cast her mind back to when she was a shy, innocent girl, afraid of everyone and everything; until Martin made friends with her in the school grounds one sunny afternoon.
With his smiling brown eyes and wild shock of thick, dark hair, he stood out from the crowd. Tall and lean, with an attractive, lazy way of walking, he was a magnet to the opposite sex. After that first meeting, Lucy was instantly drawn to him, though never in a million years did she imagine how their lives would intertwine. It would have been impossible to believe that less than two years after their first date she would not only be Martin’s wife, but she would also be mother to his child.
Over the years, Lucy had often wondered about that fateful night, when curiosity, excitement and a sense of belonging took away their common sense. The consequence of that had carried them to this point in their lives, and Lucy had come to realise how wrong they had been to get married, especially when they were both so young, with little knowledge of real life and responsibility. The sad truth was, that she had never been truly happy; not on the day they got married, and certainly not now.
For a long time, she had desperately wanted to find a way out of this mundane life, but her strong sense of duty gave her no easy way out.
Now, she often looked down on Martin’s sleeping face, and thought that, yes, she did love him; if loving him was to take care of him, to feed him, wash and iron his clothes and do her best to make sure he was content.
She went to gaze out the window. I do love you, Martin, she thought, but I don’t know you … at least not in the way I should.
She resented the way he had always made the important decisions without consulting her. Also, she resented the cowardly way she had allowed herself to go along with his decisions. When they were still at school and she found herself pregnant, it was Martin who had decided that keeping it a secret was the best thing to do. Also, it was he who’d insisted they should get married as soon as possible so that no one would find out right away. But they had been wrong, Lucy now knew. They should have confided in someone older and wiser, whom they could trust. Someone who might have helped them.
Choking back the anger, she became tearful. I should never have listened to you, she thought. I wanted to tell them the truth, but you wouldn’t let me. She recalled vividly how he threatened to say the baby wasn’t his.
Though when Mum guessed I was pregnant, you did stand by me. Even so, on my sixteenth birthday, when we were getting married, I was so afraid that you would get scared and run off at the last minute and I would have to face it all on my own.
Her homely features creased in a smile. You didn’t run though, did you? She turned, crept back and kissed him softly on the cheek. ‘Now though, I can’t understand what’s happened to us, Martin,’ she whispered. ‘I’m not happy, and sometimes I believe you feel the same.’
When a tear escaped down her cheek, she angrily wiped it away. It was no good crying. What was done was done, and there seemed no turning back.
She continued to observe him a moment longer, hating herself for being cowardly back then when they were unsure and afraid. How could she ever forget the shame and the trauma when they told their families that she was expecting a child, when she was little more than a child herself?
On the whole, over the years, Martin had been a good man. Right from when their daughter was born, he had proved himself to be a good husband and a fine father – although if she were honest there had been times when she might have preferred him to spend more time at home with her and the baby.
That particular problem still niggled her, especially when he chose to share all his leisure time with his mates, rather than with her. She was at home every evening – at first with the babies, and now alone.
Lucy’s insecurities had never really gone away.
What if he had never loved her at all? What if he had only married her because she was having his child? Maybe, unknown to her, he also had regret and doubts about the traumatic decision they had made back then. Yes! Maybe he felt like she did: cheated and alone, in a marriage born out of panic.
As a child, Lucy had always dreamed that her wedding day would be a magical, proud occasion. Instead, on her sixteenth birthday, it was a frantic rush, and all because of one dark and unforgettable night behind the Roxy.
Just two years after their daughter Anne was born, Lucy and Martin were blessed with the arrival of their second child – a boy who they named Samuel. Sam. Martin then decided that two children were enough, and took precautions to make sure their family never grew any larger.
Lucy, over the years, had devoted her life to her family. Martin played his part well, but preferred to be fishing, playing darts down the pub or kicking a ball about on the green with his friends.
After Anne married, and with Sam increasingly leading his own life, Lucy was mostly left on her own.
Inevitably, the distance between her and Martin began to widen. One time he came home so drunk he could hardly stand. ‘A mate of a mate was out on his stag do,’ he lied, ‘so we decided to make a night of it.’ Lucy made no comment, but from the whiff of cheap perfume she suspected he may have been enjoying female company.
After the second drunken episode, he gave no explanation, and Lucy asked for none. Consequently, the gulf between them became a chasm, with Lucy feeling increasingly isolated.
She had learned to take the good with the bad, but lately she had grown increasingly restless. One way or another things would have to change. She had no idea how or when, yet change they must, because if they continued as they were now, she would likely spend the rest of her life regretting it. Now, heading towards her fortieth birthday, she assumed that half her life was already gone; did she really want to spend her latter years wishing she had found the courage to put herself first, especially now, with the children grown up?
With that thought burning in her mind, she made her way downstairs. Usually after a bad night there was no spring in her step, but today was different. Never before had she felt so defiant.
If she truly wanted it, she believed that she could make a change. She could rebel. She could do something outrageous – something she had never done before.
But then the doubts crept back. Where would she start? What would the family say if she was to do something out of the ordinary? As Martin had once remarked, ‘You could set your clock by our Lucy. Always on time, and everything in its place, that’s her.’ The idea of timid Lucy Lovejoy actually rebelling was unbelievable.
But then the more Lucy thought about it, the more excited she became. So what if she was coming up to her fortieth birthday – surely it wasn’t too late to step out of her routine? To do something so brave and wonderful that she would remember it for ever? What was so wicked about that?
Her imagination ran riot. Twirling round the kitchen, she listed her unlikely ambitions aloud in a singsong way: ‘I could go dancing till dawn, or run full pelt along the promenade, in nothing but a tiny swimsuit and flimsy throw-on. Oh, and I might even book myself onto a big cruise ship … and sail off to exotic places.’
But then suddenly her mood changed as she sat down at the table. Who am I fooling? she asked herself. I’ve got no money to speak of, and anyway it’s too late now. It’s such a pity, though, because there are so many exciting things I’ve never done. I’ve never been to London, or a theatre, and though I’ve always wanted to, I’ve never learned to roller-skate … The sorry list of lost opportunities was endless. She had never worn a short, swingy skirt, or had a ride at a fairground. Never even learned to swim. In fact, she had never done anything exciting or daring. ‘You’re a hopeless case, Lucy Lovejoy!’ she declared.
Instead, she had become a watcher. Watching the children play in the sand. Watching everyone else enjoying themselves while she minded the bags or the pram, or kept the towels dry while they were swimming at the local indoor pool. She had always been a shadow in the background. Hardly noticeable, always in demand to smooth the way for the family. In the end, there was never any time for her.
She never complained, so it didn’t cross anyone’s mind that she might want to live a little, to join in the fun while someone else watched the bags and the pram.
Lucy cast her mind back. She was sure there must have been times when the family did ask her to join in but, for whatever reason, she never did.
As always, blaming herself was easier than blaming them.
Aware of the clock ticking away on the wall, she began to set the table for breakfast. Silly old fool! she told herself. You’re a hopeless daydreamer. Always have been. Put it all out of your mind and get on with the life you have. To have an adventure you need youth on your side, you need money, and you definitely need a plan. You have none of those. At your age a new adventure is just a pipe-dream.
Even so, the idea of a new life lingered.
As she set about cooking breakfast, she couldn’t help but wonder what the neighbours would say if they found out that Lucy Lovejoy had done a runner.
She burst out laughing. It might be worth the adventure, just to see the look on their faces!

CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_ef1aaa78-f8ed-54ba-8195-701f279a5cd1)
THE EGGS AND bacon were all nicely sizzling in the frying pan when Martin rushed into the kitchen. ‘For goodness’ sake, Lucy, I told you last night I wouldn’t have time for any breakfast this morning. What’s the matter with you? You even forgot to set the alarm clock for six. Thanks to you, I’m in a rush now.’
‘I can’t remember you asking me to set the alarm earlier, and anyway, if you were that worried about being late, why didn’t you set it yourself?’
‘Because you always set the alarm. I thought I could rely on you, but obviously I was wrong!’
‘I’m sorry, Martin. I had a lot on my mind.’
Martin glanced at the tasty breakfast. ‘Good food wasted!’ he grumbled. ‘Hard-earned money down the drain, and all because you don’t listen!’
‘Look!’ Lucy hurried to the kitchen cabinet. ‘I’ve got fresh cheese and chutney. I’ll make you some sandwiches. It’ll only take a minute.’
Throwing on his jacket, Martin was impatient. ‘I already told you, I have to get going! I’ve got three big jobs in progress, and an old biddy nagging me to fit a door at the top of her landing. I can’t believe you didn’t remember to wake me.’
Lucy knew for sure he had not asked her to wake him, or said that he wouldn’t have time for breakfast, but she decided not to argue.
She walked to the door with him. ‘It’s such a shame, Martin …’
‘What is?’ Pulling on his boots, he quickly laced them up.
‘Well, when you set up on your own you promised we’d be able to spend more time together … maybe even go out a couple of nights a week, but these past three months we’ve been out together just once. If you ask me, it’s worse than when you were working for the building firm.’
‘Is that so? Well, nobody’s “asking you”, so give it a rest, will you?’ He hurried to the door. ‘Look! I’m sorry if there was a misunderstanding last night … about the alarm clock and that, but I haven’t got time to argue. I’ll see you after work.’ And before she could reply, he was down the path and away, without even a backward glance.
‘You’ve got it wrong, Martin,’ she muttered. ‘I wasn’t arguing. I was just saying, things don’t seem to have worked out the way we thought they might.’
When Martin climbed into his old van, she gave a little wave, but he didn’t see it. He was already roaring down the street.
Disappointed, Lucy watched him until he disappeared from sight.
After lingering at the door for a moment, she then retreated into the house, and closed the door behind her.


Martin drove just a few streets away, then turned into a narrow alleyway. After inching his way along, he carefully parked the van into a deep curve on the bend. He took a moment to satisfy himself that there was no one about, before clambering out and running across the alley and into the back garden of one of the terraced houses.
From the back bedroom window, a woman watched him approach. She smiled. ‘Naughty man!’ she murmured lovingly.
Finding the back door open, Martin slithered inside, then turned the key in the lock.
Before he could even look round, she was all over him. ‘You’re late!’ she whispered in his ear. ‘I’ve been waiting ages for you.’
She opened her flimsy dressing gown to reveal a slim naked body, and when he reached out for her, she laughed and broke away to run up the stairs.
Martin kicked off his boots and went after her. All thoughts of Lucy had long since vanished from his mind.


‘Look, he’s there again. Disgraceful, that’s what it is!’
Mary and Peter Taylor, retired from work these many months, lived in one of the adjoining houses. Having spotted Martin creeping in and out of next door, Mary was now on a mission to keep an eye out for all the unsavoury developments.
Peter, too, peeked out the window. ‘Hmm! No wonder her husband cleared off after he caught her in bed with an ex-boyfriend.’ Although he would never admit it, Peter was the teeniest bit jealous. ‘Some folks never learn. Here she is, at it again with another man, and without an ounce of shame between ’em!’
For weeks now, the old couple had regularly seen Martin hide his car and sneak into Paula’s house.
‘They should be tarred and feathered!’ Mary was up in arms. ‘I’ve a good mind to tell Lucy Lovejoy what’s going on right under her nose. How could they?’
‘You mustn’t get involved, Mary,’ Peter quietly warned her. ‘It’s not our business. I’m sure you would not want to be responsible for breaking up Lucy’s marriage, rickety though it might be. Besides, her sister will probably get fed up before long, and move on to some other gullible bloke.’
Reluctantly, Mary had to agree. ‘All right then. But Lucy Lovejoy is such a likeable, honest person, and she really doesn’t deserve this.’
‘I know, but it’s not our place to interfere, and if we did, then the two of us would be the baddies, caught up in the middle. But don’t you worry, the truth will out. It always does, one way or another.’


Glancing at the clock again, Lucy quickly finished her cup of tea and began clearing the table. ‘I’ll be late for work myself if I’m not careful, and that will never do.’ She prided herself on being a good timekeeper at the factory.
She put a flat tin dish over the top of the plate of eggs and bacon, then after turning the grill on low, she slid the plate underneath. That should keep it good and hot. Martin was right: good food should not be wasted, and anyway, Sam would appreciate a hot breakfast before he left.
Lucy glanced at the wall clock. It was high time he was up and ready.
A moment later she was at the foot of the stairs, calling up to her son. When after two calls there was no answer, she raised her voice. ‘Sam, are you still in bed? It’s gone seven. Hurry up or you’ll be late.’
She was about to go up and wake him when his tired, lazy voice called back, ‘OK, stop yelling! I’ll be down in a minute!’
Satisfied, Lucy resumed her clearing away, but it wasn’t long before she was interrupted.
‘Mum!’ Sam yelled down the stairway. ‘I can’t find any clean socks!’
‘Look in the top drawer of your cupboard!’ Lucy called back. When there came no reply, she was satisfied that he must have found them. Of course there were clean socks. When had there ever not been? Surely he didn’t actually need his clothes laying out ready for him the night before?
A few minutes later, Sam sloped into the kitchen, his shoulders drooping and his eyes still sleepy. ‘I don’t suppose there’s any breakfast, is there?’ Dropping his tall, gawky figure into the nearest chair, he glanced at the clock. ‘Oh, Mum! You should have called me earlier.’
‘Well, you’ve still got time for some breakfast before you set off.’
Grabbing a tea towel, she covered her hands before collecting the plate of eggs and bacon from under the grill. ‘There!’ She set it before him. ‘Be careful, the plate’s hot.’
Sam began tucking in, while Lucy proudly took stock of him.
Sam was just twenty-one years of age – lanky, defiant and often argumentative, like many young men of his age. With his attractive fair hair and light brown eyes, and his outgoing personality, he had enjoyed more than his fair share of girlfriends over the last few years.
‘Are you enjoying your new job at the newsagent’s?’ Lucy asked.
He hunched his shoulders. ‘Yeah, I suppose.’ Digging the fork into the bacon he remarked sullenly, ‘This was Dad’s breakfast, wasn’t it?’
‘Yes, it was, but he was late for work and didn’t have time to eat it.’
‘I know that.’ He gave her a sorry look. ‘I heard the two of you arguing.’
‘We weren’t arguing. It was more of a misunderstanding. The thing is, your father needed to start work early,’ Lucy explained, ‘and there was a mix-up about the alarm, that’s all.’
‘Yeah … because you forgot to set it, like he asked.’ Sam gave a little chuckle. ‘I dunno, Mum. You’ve got a memory like a sieve.’
Pretending not to have heard this remark, Lucy hurriedly set about collecting up the used teacups. ‘So, do you think this job might be offered to you on a permanent basis?’
‘Dunno.’
‘But if you were offered it as permanent, you would take it, wouldn’t you? Or perhaps think about going to college, learn a new skill?’
Getting up from the table, Sam made his way to the front door, where he put on his jacket. ‘Dunno.’ He gave a lolloping shrug. ‘You might as well know right now, I don’t plan on working in a newsagent’s for ever. I suppose it depends on what comes my way. We’ll just have to wait and see, won’t we?’
Then he was out the door and running down to the bus stop, leaving Lucy wondering why she even bothered to open a conversation.
Beginning to panic, she glanced at the wall clock. She was due at work for eight thirty, which left her just fifteen minutes to be on her way.
Quickly now, she went to the telephone, where she picked up the receiver and dialled her parents’ number. After just two rings, her father answered. ‘I were just walking past the phone,’ he explained breathlessly. ‘It frightened the life outta me. Who is it wants me?’
‘It’s me, Dad. I meant to call earlier but it’s always manic in this house, and now I’m rushing about. How’s Mum … is she any better?’
‘She’s not too bad. I must say, that cough seems to be on its way out. She slept much better last night.’
‘Oh, that’s good. Look, Dad, I’m late for work, so will you just give her my love and tell her I’ll be round tomorrow evening?’
‘Aw, don’t you worry, she’ll be fine. But thanks anyway, Lucy. You’re a good girl.’ And before she could answer, he replaced the receiver.
Lucy smiled. It’s a long time since I was a girl, Dad, she thought. Then, reassured about her poorly mother, she replaced the receiver.


Having grabbed her bag and put her coat on, Lucy was heading for the door when the telephone rang.
Startled, she grabbed the receiver and pressed it to her ear. ‘Hello?’
‘Lucy, I need your help.’ She recognised her son-in-law’s voice. Les sounded anxious. ‘Anne’s not been well in the night – probably something she ate, or maybe she’s got some dreaded lurgy coming on. She hasn’t actually been sick, but she was burning up in the night, and now she’s feeling a bit rough. I’ve given her water, but she refuses anything else. She does seem a bit more settled now, but she hasn’t had much sleep at all … and neither has anyone else. Luke must have sensed she was unwell, because he’s cried for most of the night. I nearly called you, but then he fell asleep. Poor little devil’s exhausted.’
‘Oh, dear me.’ Lucy was worried. ‘Well, at least she hasn’t been sick, and you say she’s feeling a little better … that’s good, but you’ll need to keep her warm in bed. Oh, and do keep checking on her. Tell her I’ll be round in my dinner hour, just after twelve.’
‘The thing is, Lucy—’
Lucy interrupted, ‘Les, did you call the doctor?’
‘Yes, and he thinks, like me, that she’s eaten something that didn’t agree. Anyway, he says he’ll pop in later, on his rounds.’
‘Aw, that’s good. You did right to call him.’ Glancing at the hall clock, Lucy grew more frantic. ‘Now, don’t you forget to tell her I’ll be there during my lunch break. I must go now, Les. I’m late already.’
‘No, you can’t! You see, the thing is … I’ve been summoned to a union meeting up North. I should be on my way by now. There’s the threat of a strike. The union chap is spitting blood over a change in working hours. Feelings are running high. We have to sort the problem before it becomes a full-blown strike.’ He took a quick breath. ‘I did ask to be excused this one, but it seems there’s no one else qualified to go. As you know, union problems are my department anyway.’
Lucy was devastated. ‘You should have rung them and explained the situation.’
‘I can’t do that. It’s more than my job’s worth.’
Lucy was torn. ‘But you said she’s feeling more settled now … apart from being tired, I mean. And Luke is OK, is he?’
‘Well, yes, but they need you, Lucy.’
‘But I’m just off to work myself. You know I’d be round there like a shot out of a gun, but I’m already in the boss’s bad books because of time lost when I damaged my foot.’
‘I’m sure she’ll understand if you explain. Please, Lucy, with my own parents living miles away, and your mother not in the best of health, I’ve no one else to ask.’
Lucy was panicking now. ‘What about Maggie, your neighbour? She’s a good sort; she’ll be glad to stay with Anne and the baby for an hour or so … or at least until I get my lunch break. I’ll explain the situation to my boss, and maybe she’ll let me leave earlier. Meantime, Maggie’s more than capable of keeping an eye on Luke. She’s had five children of her own. Anyway, the doctor will be round before you know it. If Anne does get any worse, though, and Maggie’s worried, she can ring the office at work. I’ll be straight over, whatever the consequences. But from what you say, it seems Anne might well be on the mend. Don’t worry, Les. Just ask Maggie to hold the fort and tell her it’s only until twelve o’clock, then I’ll be on my way.’
‘No, Lucy! You don’t understand! Anne needs you right now. With me having been called to sort out an urgent situation, don’t you think it’s your responsibility as her mother? Anyway,’ he explained angrily, ‘I’ve already asked Maggie, and she can’t do it. She’s been summoned to a meeting with her son’s head teacher … something to do with him having punched another boy in the school grounds yesterday.’ He was growing impatient. ‘Look, Lucy, I’m sorry, but you’ll have to come over now! I can’t leave until you get here.’
He gave an almighty sigh. ‘And besides, with due respect, Lucy, I reckon my work might be just that bit more important than yours. At least you and Martin and Sam are all working, while I’m the only one earning in this family.’
Lucy was shocked. ‘You don’t need to remind me of my responsibilities, Les. Nor my and Martin’s financial arrangements. As you well know, my family has always been my first priority. And if Maggie is busy, and there is no one else to help, then of course I’ll come over. But, however much you feel the need to rush off, you must stay with her, until I get there. Tell Anne I’ll phone the boss now, and explain why I won’t be coming in today.’
‘Thanks, Lucy. Be quick, though, won’t you? I should have been on the road by now.’
As she dialled the factory number, Lucy was decidedly nervous. Luckily, the boss was in a meeting, but her secretary was very reassuring. ‘I’m sorry your daughter’s ill, but don’t worry,’ she told Lucy, ‘the boss will understand.’
Lucy gave a sigh of relief as she replaced the receiver. In the last few months she had taken a considerable amount of time off from work; mainly because of hospital appointments when she had broken her foot some weeks back. Then there was that time when she looked after little Luke while Les and Anne went away to try to mend their marriage.
Worried about money, Les had started working every hour he could. Anne, however, became restless and uncomfortable about that, and began making life difficult for everyone. There were then arguments, which became so bitter, they were even talking about splitting up.
In the end Lucy had stepped in with some advice, which was something she rarely did. She’d suggested Anne and Les went away by themselves to sort it out, and they had leaped at the chance.
A fortnight later, they were home and more in love than ever. Lucy had been overjoyed to have her little grandson to stay for two weeks. Even so, she had been worried about losing her job, but Martin had reassured her. ‘There is no way they’ll sack you, girl!’ he’d said heartily. ‘You work too damned hard for that!’
Luckily, he was right.


Although flustered by the morning’s events, Lucy lost no time in organising herself. Within minutes of phoning her place of work, she was down the street and climbing onto the bus, almost before it drew to a halt.
‘Trying to kill yourself, are you, Lucy Lovejoy?’ After working the same route for nigh on twenty years, Johnny, the bus conductor, knew every regular who travelled on his bus. He was a cheery sort, a favourite with the passengers, because of his bright and cheeky smile.
Lucy hurried down the gangway and quickly seated herself. With a great deal playing on her mind, she chose to sit as far away from the door as possible.
A few moments later Johnny came to collect the fare. ‘You don’t seem your usual cheery self,’ he remarked carefully.
‘My daughter was ill in the night,’ Lucy confided in him. ‘Unfortunately, her husband had to leave for the North this morning … an emergency to do with his work. So I’m off to keep an eye on Anne and the baby.’
‘By, you’re a good sort.’ Johnny gave an encouraging smile. ‘From what I understand, folks are always able to call on you, knowing you’ll help if you can.’ Lucy often confided in him, whenever the bus was quiet, and this morning there were few other passengers. He recalled how some time back, Lucy had been concerned about the fragile state of her daughter’s marriage, but then, with Lucy’s help and encouragement, the marriage had been saved.
There was even one occasion when his own spirits were low, and he had asked Lucy’s opinion. She had kindly offered some good advice, making him realise that he was working far too many hours, covering for his workmates when they were away, and snatching overtime whenever it was offered.
Lucy candidly pointed out that he appeared to be at work more than he was at home, which did nothing for his health, or his family life.
Johnny had seen the truth of it, because though he and his wife had more money in their pockets, they never seemed to enjoy it. The occasional weekends away had come to a stop, and after work he was too tired to chat with her, so little by little, their conversations and spontaneous laughter had dried up; with their marriage rapidly heading the same way.
Johnny was ever thankful for Lucy’s straightforward warning, and he firmly believed that her husband was a fortunate man to have this darling woman, with a heart of gold. From what he knew, she never shirked her many responsibilities, and cared for her family like no woman he had ever known.
Johnny suspected that, with her kind and thoughtful nature, Lucy might allow herself to be walked over. There were times when he sensed that she herself was in need of help and comfort. Sadly, though, it seemed there was no one there to offer it.
As the bus slowed down for the next stop, he excused himself and rushed to welcome the passengers on board.
Deep in thought, Lucy absent-mindedly followed his progress to the door. Then, momentarily closing her eyes, she allowed her thoughts to drift back to when she was a wide-eyed and innocent schoolgirl; until Martin came along and took her innocence. Although to be fair, she had been a willing partner.
Life was so unpredictable, she mused. It could be kind, or it could be incredibly cruel. From the minute you were born, you found yourself on a fast-moving roller-coaster. However much you wanted to get off or change direction, you were swept along, sometimes unwillingly.
It was a sad truth that you were never in charge of your own destiny, because circumstances constantly changed and spiralled out of your control. Strangers intervened along the way, and people you knew and loved could also change your life for good or bad. Somehow, and without you realising it, strangers and others often led you down a path you might never otherwise have followed. In the end, you could lose sight of your chosen destination and, try as you might, never find your own way back.
‘Hey!’ Johnny was gently touching her on the shoulder. ‘If you want to sleep on my bus, that’ll be an extra shilling,’ he chuckled.
‘I wasn’t sleeping,’ Lucy promised, her weary spirits lifted. ‘I was just thinking.’
‘Oh, really? Well, in my experience it’s never a good idea to think too much. It could bend your brain, and apart from that, you’ll give yourself a headache.’ Giving a wink that made Lucy smile, he moved on.
Lucy sat up and casually looked out as the bus route passed her sister’s house. She glanced at her watch, thinking it odd that the bedroom curtains were still closed …
She was startled when Johnny spoke in her ear. ‘Didn’t you mention that was where your sister lives? Paula, isn’t it?’
‘You’ve got a good memory!’ Lucy replied. ‘I’m sure she was due to start her new job at the petrol station today … early shift, she said. But just now I noticed the bedroom curtains are still closed. She’s either had a late night out with her pals, and is still sleeping it off, or she’s changed her mind about the job.’
‘Or maybe she just forgot to open the curtains,’ Johnny suggested.
Lucy nodded. ‘I hope you’re right. Yes, maybe that’s what she’s done. She’s a good sort, really, and we get on well, but there are times when she’s her own worst enemy. Her late nights and devil-may-care attitude have already lost her two jobs. How she is ever going to sort out her life, I don’t know.’
She made a mental note to pop in and see her sister soon. She would feel much better once she knew Paula was all right.


‘Hey, Paula!’ Martin was lazing in bed when Paula went across to the window to peek out.
‘You’ll never guess who I just saw,’ Paula teased him, turning with a wicked little smile on her face.
‘I don’t care who you saw,’ he replied, ‘because whoever it is, they’re spoiling my fun. Come back here, wench. I’m not done with you yet.’ His hungry gaze swept her slim, naked body. He loved her firm, toned figure and pert little breasts. When he took her in his arms, nothing else mattered; especially not Lucy who, compared to her sister, seemed old and shapeless before her time.
He did hold a measure of affection for Lucy. After all, the two of them had been together a long time … maybe too long, he mused.
Paula laughed as she hurried to the wardrobe. ‘Sorry, lover, but your time’s up. You’ve had your fun, and now it’s time to go!’ She rolled her eyes. ‘I should have started work half an hour ago, so now I need to get there. I’ll have to drum up some sort of apology and smile nicely at the manager.’ Her manner grew serious. ‘Honestly, Martin, I really can’t afford to lose another job.’
Seeing that his fun was definitely over for today, Martin reluctantly slithered out of bed and began to pull on his trousers. ‘OK, you win. But you will make it up to me some other time … won’t you?’
‘Of course.’ Keeping her distance, she flirted with him as he dressed. ‘You know very well that goes without saying,’ she told him softly.
Martin picked up on what she had said earlier. ‘So, who did you see just now through the window?’
‘I saw your wife … my dear sister, Lucy,’ she answered mockingly.
‘What! You saw Lucy? Oh my God! Was she at the door?’ Shocked, he quickly buckled up his trouser-belt and yanked his shirt on. ‘Is she downstairs?’ His voice shook. ‘Quick! Get rid of her!’
Paula enjoyed seeing him panic. ‘Calm down,’ she giggled. ‘She was on the bus. Just as I looked out, she was already turning away. So don’t worry, our sordid little secret is still safe.’
Shaken by the possibility that Lucy might discover what he and Paula were up to, Martin slumped onto the bed. ‘What the hell is she doing on the bus? She should be at work, not gallivanting about on the damned bus.’
Paula shrugged. ‘Don’t ask me, because I’m sure I don’t know.’ She decided to wind him up further. ‘I suppose she could be coming to see me even yet. Maybe she’s got off at the bottom of the street and she’s on her way here right now!’
‘For pity’s sake, head her off. I’ll sneak out the back.’
Paula laughed. ‘Relax! Lucy wouldn’t be coming round here now – she knows I’m starting a new job today – and even if she did find out we were carrying on behind her back, she’d probably forgive us.’
‘Huh! You wish!’ Martin was now hurrying to the door. ‘She might be soft-hearted, but there is no way she would forgive us. Lucy might not have much going for her but, as you well know, she would be devastated if she found out we’d betrayed her.’
A teeny bit jealous, Paula was suddenly curious. ‘If you had to choose between me and her, who would you choose?’
But Martin wasn’t listening. ‘I don’t understand. Why isn’t she at work? You know what a stickler she is for keeping time. So, what’s going on? Are you sure it was Lucy on the bus?’
Just then the telephone rang and he almost leaped out of his skin.
‘Stay there!’ Paula threw on her dressing gown, and ran down the stairs.
Nervously, Martin crept to the door to listen, greatly relieved when he realised that the caller was Paula’s new boss, asking why she was not yet at work.
‘I’m sorry, sir, but I had a burst pipe in the kitchen. I’ve managed to get the plumber here, and I’ve asked a neighbour to come and stay until he’s finished. I should be with you in about fifteen minutes.’ She put on her sweetest little-girl voice. ‘I know I should have called you, but it’s been frantic. I’ve been so worried, I just didn’t have time to call and explain.’
There was a pause, while Paula was listening, and then Martin heard her promising, ‘Half an hour at the outside, yes, and I’ll work the extra time if you want me to. Yes, all right, thank you.’
Before she could replace the receiver, Martin was downstairs and grabbing her. ‘Got to go.’ He kissed her full on the mouth before reluctantly releasing her. ‘You and me … we’re all right together, aren’t we?’
Her answer was to wrap her arms round his neck and draw him in to her. ‘Can I ask you something?’
‘Ask away.’
‘Do you really want me? Would you leave Lucy to be with me?’
‘Are you serious?’ Martin was nervous. ‘I mean … after your divorce and all the nastiness, I thought the last thing you might want is to shack up with another man … least of all your sister’s husband.’
‘Well, you were wrong. It might have been that way at first, but I think I’ve fallen for you, and I want to make it permanent.’ She paused, her gaze hardening. ‘Or do you just want fun with no strings attached? Is that it?’
‘No!’ Martin was adamant. ‘I never thought of us in that way.’
She visibly relaxed. ‘Well, that’s OK, because I never thought of us in that way either.’
Martin was delighted and shocked by her serious suggestion that he should leave Lucy. ‘I would never willingly hurt you … not after what your ex put you through.’
‘I took it bad, I know.’ She cast her mind back. ‘That day when you found me crying … when you held me for the very first time, I was in pieces. But I’m well over that now. It didn’t take me long to realise that ending the marriage was right for both of us. Never having had children made it easier somehow.’
‘Did you want children?’
Paula shrugged. ‘I don’t suppose I would have minded, but it just never happened. I think Ray was bitterly disappointed about that. As it turned out, though, it’s just as well, don’t you think?’
‘I don’t really know but, like you say, I’m sure it meant that it was easier to end the marriage.’
‘To tell the truth, I think I stopped loving him a long time before we decided to break up. In the end it was a relief to see the back of him. He was lazy, quick to temper, and he never showed me any tenderness. You’re different, though, Martin. You’re exciting and loving, and you know how to make me happy.’
‘Really?’ He gave her a sly little smile. ‘That’s nice to know.’
‘No! I didn’t mean it like that,’ she assured him. ‘You make me happy in lots of other ways … and you care for me like a man should.’
‘Well, I’m glad you think like that, but it’s like I just said, you and me, we’re all right together, and that’s good, apart from the fact that I’m a taken man … married to your own sister, no less.’
Guilt darkened his face. ‘Trouble is, I can’t seem to keep away from you, and whatever you might think, I do have a conscience about cheating on Lucy.’
‘So, why do you cheat on her, if it feels wrong?’
‘Because I love you, that’s why.’ He tried to explain. ‘Remind me again … how many years younger than Lucy are you?’
‘Three minus a few weeks. I’m thirty-seven and she’s just round the corner from her fortieth birthday. But what’s that got to do with anything?’
‘Well, it’s just that here you are, only three years younger than Lucy, and yet I swear anyone could be forgiven for thinking you were ten years younger.’
‘Thank you!’ Paula smiled. ‘I’m thrilled that you should think that, but I don’t imagine Lucy would be so pleased.’
‘Oh, but it’s true, and it’s not just your youthful appearance, although that says a lot. Compared to Lucy, you’re much younger in your attitude; you are always bright and pretty, and full of life.’ Running his hands down her long, brown hair, he smiled into her bright, almond-coloured eyes. ‘Hand on heart, Paula, I reckon you could easily pass for a young woman of twenty-one, twenty-two, any day … while Lucy could easily be mistaken for an older middle-aged woman.’
‘Don’t say that.’
‘But it’s true, and you know it as well as I do. She’s old in her ways. She acts and dresses like she’s middle-aged. She never fusses over her appearance, or wears make-up. She won’t spend money on having her hair done, or her nails painted. She frets if the meals are late. She panics if everything is short of perfect. She’s refused so often to come with me to the pub when I’m in a darts match that I stopped asking her a long time back. And to be honest, I can’t remember the last time we went out together, or when she actually laughed out loud.’
Paula gently rounded on him. ‘Don’t be too hard on her, Martin. You know as well as I do, Lucy is a good woman. She loves the family, and she’s always there for anyone in trouble. She’s a better woman than I will ever be.’
‘I do not believe that. You’ve been through a lot lately. You deserve a bit of fun and love in your life. As for Lucy, I wasn’t running her down. I was just stating the facts. I know it’s a pity, but she will never change, not now.’
‘But she’s a decent sort, whereas I’m just a flighty tart. I spend too much time at the mirror, and too much money having my hair styled and cut. I spend a fortune on make-up, and I couldn’t cook a dinner for four if I tried my best.’
‘Maybe. But you know how to laugh. You can make a man feel good, and you hit life at the run. That’s what makes you so exciting. At the end of the day, that’s what any man wants in his woman: excitement, laughter, being able to discuss anything and nothing with her, and the occasional fierce rows, and ending up in bed together afterwards.’
Paula grew serious. ‘You say that, Martin. But you have a wife who keeps your shirts washed and ironed. She’s good with money. She holds down a job and still manages to put a piping-hot meal in front of you when you sit down at the table. She never walks away from trouble, yet she never yells or argues. And she always puts your welfare and the family’s welfare before her own. Am I right?’
‘I suppose.’ Martin reflected on her words. ‘Yes … Lucy is everything you say, and I love her very much, but not in the way a man should love his wife. And maybe it’s my fault, because I was the one who made her pregnant when we were just schoolkids. After that, there was no choice for either of us. So now, we’re stuck in a life where there is no closeness, no fire, no tenderness, and nothing to look forward to except more of the same.’
When he seemed to lapse into thought, Paula interrupted, ‘So … Martin? Have you thought about my question?’
He gave a deep sigh. ‘Yes.’ His answer was so quiet, she could only just hear it. ‘I would leave Lucy, yes … without a shadow of doubt.’ He craved the idea of making a permanent life with Paula.
But when he reached out to take her, she pushed him away. ‘I think it’s time you went.’
‘What? No kisses, no hugs, just “get off to work”. Is that it?’
‘Yes … for now, anyway. But there’ll be time enough to talk again.’ Her sister, Lucy, was at the forefront of Paula’s mind, and for the slightest moment, she felt small, and deeply ashamed.
As always, though, the moment soon passed.
A short time later, she stood at the kitchen window and watched him hurry away. She was astonished to learn that, like her, Martin wanted them to be together permanently. I never believed you would leave Lucy for me, she thought, and the awful truth is … I would not try to stop you, because even though I love Lucy, I love you more.
Determined to push Lucy from her mind, she set about getting herself ready for work.


Mary Taylor, Paula’s neighbour, called her husband to the window. ‘Look at him run!’ She pointed at Martin as he scuttled down the alley to his van. ‘Like a thief in the night!’ she declared angrily. ‘They should be ashamed … the pair of them! I’ve got a good mind to tell his wife what they’re up to!’
‘You’ll do no such thing.’ Peter was a gentle soul, content with his quiet life. ‘It would only do more harm than good, and besides, I’ve told you before, it’s none of our business. Just leave it be. Let them sort it out in their own way. All right?’
When she turned away without giving him an answer, he insisted, ‘Mary! Promise me you won’t interfere!’
Mary gave a smile and a kind of nod. ‘All right, I hear you! Now stop worrying. Finish your breakfast and go for your newspapers. Oh, and you’d best take Rascal with you.’ She glanced at the little brown terrier stretched out on the rug. ‘He’s been waiting patiently. Don’t wear him out, though. I might take him to the park later, when you’re meeting up with your old cronies.’
‘I won’t wear him out.’
‘Good!’ She discreetly looked her husband up and down, noting the droop of his once-broad shoulders and the grey whiskers in his long, curly beard. She glanced at the little terrier and saw the grey whiskers on his chin also; it made her smile to see the resemblance between man and dog. ‘Take it easy, you two,’ she instructed. ‘Neither of you is as young as you used to be.’
‘Hey! Enough of that. You know what they say: you’re only as old as you feel.’
‘Oh, so you feel young and sprightly, do you?’ Edging towards him, she gave a cheeky wink. ‘Come on then, let’s see what you’re made of.’
‘Don’t be daft, woman. What’s wrong with you?’ He scrambled out of the chair to grab his coat, and she burst out laughing. ‘You’re a wicked woman!’ he chided her.
‘Not as wicked as her down the street!’ Mary retorted. ‘What woman with any decency would bed her own sister’s husband? Not to mention breaking her own marriage by flirting and carrying on with the lodger. Shameful, that’s what it is. I’m not surprised her poor husband fled to the hills.’
‘Behave yourself!’ Peter was never a man to gossip. ‘And anyway, you don’t know she’s “bedding” her sister’s husband.’
‘Take it from me, Peter,’ tapping the side of her nose, she gave a little smile, ‘a woman knows these things.’
‘Right, well, I’m off. Come on, Rascal!’ The little dog was already at the door, chasing backwards and forwards with his tongue hanging out.
When Peter opened the door, the dog set off at a run, clambering at the garden gate, impatient to be away.
Deep in thought, Mary resumed her chores at the sink, one eye on her husband as he went down the garden path. ‘Huh! Don’t tell me that little slut is not bedding Martin Lovejoy, because I would bet my life on it,’ she muttered.


Less than two miles away, Martin drew up at the old barn he was renovating. He yanked on the brake, then switched off the van engine.
He began whistling merrily, happy in the knowledge that Paula wanted the same things he did, but fell silent a moment later when Lucy crept into his mind.
For a few painful minutes he continued to think about Lucy, and how she would react if he ever had the courage to tell her about him and Paula. It’s sure to be a messy, hurtful business if I break with Lucy, he thought, leaning back in his seat. Lucy and me, though … he slowly shook his head … there’s just nothing there, and hasn’t been for a long time. At least not on my side.
He was truly sorry about Lucy, but he was determined to grab his happiness as soon as he could. It wasn’t her fault … they had been just kids learning about life. Too young to realise the consequences of what they did.
Looking back, he believed he was more to blame than Lucy. Me … the big man in the school ground … I had to have her, and I’ve paid the price ever since. Serves me bloody right! Thumping the dashboard, he softly cursed, thinking back, hating himself, hating Lucy, then loving her. I just can’t spend the rest of my life with her … not now I know that Paula wants me, he decided.
He tried to visualise what Lucy might say when he told her he and Paula were planning to live together. Lucy would get over it … she would! She was a sensible woman. She took things in her stride, always had.
Assuring himself that Lucy would cope, he thought of the wonderful times he’d enjoyed with Paula. He and Paula belonged together, and to hell with anyone who didn’t like the idea!
He couldn’t wait to start a new life with his sister-in-law. But before that could happen, there was much to be done. He thought of his children, Anne and Sam. They, too, would be hurt, he knew, but as far as he was concerned there was no alternative.
Taking a deep breath, he blew it back out in a long sigh. His decision was made. Sorry, Lucy, love, but life is too short for regrets. I can’t live with someone I don’t love … not any more.
Before he announced his decision, though, he had to be absolutely certain that Paula really meant what she said. They must have another serious conversation.
After he’d spoken with Paula, he would know which way to go.
Settled on his plan of action, Martin scrambled out of the van, grabbed his tools and headed off to work with a determined stride. He had so much to think about, his head was spinning. His troubled thoughts kept coming back to Lucy, that gentle, good woman who had given him two much-loved children. She was one of Nature’s mothers: always there when needed.
The truth was that just to be with Paula fired Martin with excitement, while Lucy was just there; like a shadow in the corner, like an ornament you might bring out and polish now and then. She had little to say and even fewer opinions to share. There was no spirit, no naughtiness, or humour of any kind. She was just Lucy, content in her own little world. Happiest when she had family about her.
But though she brought no excitement to his life, she was the mother of his children, and grandmother of his daughter’s child.
Other than that, Lucy was simply a sad relic of his wasted youth.
And yet, for all that, he was loath to hurt her.

PART TWO (#ulink_073cfef4-9327-5091-9d37-2e9eba5baccc)

CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_0ced989a-cd71-5af2-bc0e-12355e7f578e)
KATHLEEN RILEY AND Lucy Lovejoy had worked together at the plastics factory for almost two years. It was a busy, happy firm, turning out all manner of plastic goods, including watering cans, children’s tea sets, and see-through plastic macs, which were one of the company’s best sellers.
Lucy made the belts for the macs, and Kathleen made the collars. Other workers joined all the pieces together and when finished, the macs were attractive, very fashionable and easy to wear.
Sitting at the machines all day was physically demanding work, especially on the legs, which were required to push back and forth with the swing of the metal welder which dropped down rhythmically to seal the pieces together.
At the end of the week, the size of the wage packet depended on how many pieces each worker had produced, which was an incentive for everyone to work hard.
Having started on the same day and followed the training programme together, Lucy and Kathleen had quickly become the best of workmates, though because of Lucy’s family commitments, they only very occasionally met up outside of work.
Today Kathleen was worried about Lucy, who had hardly spoken a word since being summoned to the manager’s office earlier. In the end Kathleen just had to ask outright.
‘Hey, Lucy, is everything OK? Has the ol’ dragon had a go at you?’
Short and curvy, with chocolate-coloured eyes, and red curly hair, Kathleen had her hair pinned back so tightly she looked like she’d been in a wind tunnel.
When Lucy seemed not to have heard, Kathleen left her machine to hurry across to her. ‘Has she given you a dressing-down because you had the day off yesterday?’ Aware of the others watching, she quickly lowered her voice. ‘Don’t let her get you down. Sometimes her bark is worse than her bite. You’re a good worker. She knows you would never be late if there wasn’t a problem.’
Lucy was close to tears. ‘That’s the trouble,’ she admitted. ‘There’s always a problem of one kind or another. When I think everything’s going well, and I can rest easy, something happens to mess things up.’
‘Ah! But y’see, Lucy, that’s sometimes the way of it with families, but it won’t always be like that. You’re going through a bad patch at the minute, but it’s not your fault.’ Glancing up to see the foreman on the prowl nearby, she edged away. ‘Look, I’d best get on, but we’ll talk later. Meantime, don’t let the buggers get you down!’
Having quickly returned to her workbench, Kathleen was head down and working hard, until the shriek of the lunchtime buzzer pierced the air. ‘Come on, time for a break, Lucy!’ she called out, but Lucy was already on her feet.
‘Get your bag, Lucy, and let’s get outta here,’ Kathleen said. ‘Me poor ol’ feet have swelled up like two fat puddings, so they have.’
Lucy felt much the same. Sitting at the machines for hours was punishing. With a sense of relief the workers began to filter away in different directions: some to the canteen, some to the alley where they would have a quick cigarette; others headed to the four corners of the factory yard, to flop down wherever they felt comfortable.
Outside in the clean, fresh air, Lucy and Kathleen settled themselves on the wall at the back of the factory, with their legs dangling over the edge and their flasks of tea sitting side by side.
‘I’ve got cheese.’ Kathleen opened her lunch bag. ‘What have you got?’
‘Ham and tomato.’ Lucy offered up her box. ‘Want to swap?’
‘Oh, aren’t you the little angel now?’ Kathleen did not need asking twice. Holding out her puny sandwich, she made the exchange and licked her lips. ‘Go on then, Lucy. Your sandwiches are always better than mine.’
After pouring tea from the flask into a plastic cup, Kathleen was intent again on knowing what had been said in the manager’s office earlier. ‘She’s upset you, hasn’t she … the old divil?’ Kathleen gently pursued the subject. ‘You mustn’t let her get you down.’ Taking a bite of her sandwich, she waited for Lucy’s response.
Lucy remained silent for what seemed an age, and then she dug into her overall pocket and handed Kathleen an official-looking envelope. ‘Here. Read that.’
Kathleen gingerly opened it and read what it contained.
‘Jaysus, will ye look at that! An official, written warning … You should inform the union about this!’
‘No!’ Official aggravation of that kind was the last thing Lucy wanted. ‘Considering how many times I’ve been late, or not turned in at all, it’s like she said: I’m unreliable. She has every right to issue a formal warning. She also made it clear that if I can’t keep to regular hours from now on, or if I miss one more day without prior notice – unless it’s a matter of life and death – then I’ll be given my walking papers on the spot!’
She looked at the sandwich she was holding for a moment before sneaking it back into her lunch box. She had not only lost her appetite but, after the grilling she had been through in the office, she felt like a hopeless failure.
Kathleen had seen her reject the sandwich. ‘Hey,’ she pointed to Lucy’s lunch box, ‘you can’t go without yer food. Sure, that won’t solve nothing at all!’ She did understand how Lucy must be feeling, though. ‘Look, Lucy, I really think you should inform the union. Let me talk to the steward – he’s a sensible man. He’ll have a quiet word with her. Sure, it doesn’t have to go any further than that if you don’t want it to.’
Fearful, Lucy told her to leave it be and, being the good friend she was, Kathleen promised she would not say another word, though she was a natural rebel and could not be certain she would keep such a promise.
From previous conversations between herself and Lucy, it was clear to Kathleen that the family did put upon Lucy’s good nature, and she felt she had to mention it now. ‘As far as I can see, Lucy …’ she hesitated, before going on, ‘… there is only one solution to this.’
Intrigued, Lucy hitched herself further onto the wall. ‘Oh, and what’s that, then?’
‘Look, don’t take offence, but you must stop being a buffer for the family. They’re old enough to sort out their own problems. It’s not right that they should come running to you at every little hurdle. Y’see, the more you let them lean on you, the less responsible they’ll become for their own actions and misfortunes.’
‘But they’re my family, Kathleen. I can’t turn away from them when they come to me for help.’
‘Sure, I understand that, and I’ve helped my own family many a time – show me a parent who hasn’t – but we have to draw a line. We have to let them live and learn, allow them to search for their own solutions, otherwise how will they ever cope? I mean, you won’t be here for ever, will you, so how will they manage when you’re not there to pick up the pieces?’
‘I know what you mean. But it’s hard not to do what you can, if there’s a problem.’
‘True, but all I’m saying is, you need to be sure whether it’s a problem they could deal with themselves, and if it is, then you should maybe just give advice. That way, it’s right for them, and right for you. I’ve got four grown-up children, as you know, Lucy, and I promise you it took a long time for me to realise I could step back and leave them to deal with their lives themselves … much as we had to do when we were their ages.’
She laughed out loud. ‘I’ll admit we had a few hairy moments with our son Michael. He was the wild card of the family. Even after he got married and had a child, he leaned on us at every turn. But I promise you, we got there in the end, and so will you.’
When one of their colleagues threw a rolled-up newspaper to them, Kathleen caught it and quickly flicked through the pages.
‘Look at this!’ Holding the pages open, she showed Lucy the photograph of three young men. ‘Would you believe, killed in a car smash on the way to a mate’s wedding. They were so young … the families must have been devastated. But there you are … It just goes to show, you never know what’s round the corner, do you?’
Realising she and Lucy were the last two left outside, Kathleen leaped off the wall. ‘Hell’s bells, Lucy! Everybody’s gone. If we don’t get our backsides in there, we’ll know well enough what’s round the corner! It’ll be the length of the ol’ dragon’s tongue, so it will!’
With thoughts of those three young men in their minds, Lucy and Kathleen made their way back inside the factory.
‘I don’t know what I’d do if I got my walking orders from here,’ Lucy confided to Kathleen as they hurried to their machines. ‘If I lost my job, whatever would I tell Martin and the children?’
Kathleen wagged a finger at her. ‘There you go again!’ she chided. ‘More concerned about the family than you are about yourself! Put yourself first for a change, Lucy Lovejoy! Do that, and the chances of you losing your job will be less likely. OK?’ She gave Lucy a friendly wink.
Lucy smiled. ‘OK.’ In truth, she would not even know how to start putting herself first.
Eventually the loud screech of the works’ siren marked the end of another working day. The machines were switched off and an eerie silence fell across the vast open space of the factory floor.
Very soon, though, the silence was shattered by the march of many feet as the workers made their way out. And then the noise of hurrying feet was quickly overridden by shouts and laughter as everyone relaxed into ‘going home’ mode.
As always, Kathleen and Lucy merged with the other workers on their way out, but at the outer gates Lucy split away from Kathleen. ‘I’m walking home tonight,’ she explained.
Kathleen was surprised. ‘Even if you cut through the alleys, it’s a fair old walk to your street. But why walk when you can catch the bus as usual and be home that much earlier?’
Lucy shrugged. ‘No particular reason. I just need to think, that’s all.’
‘You’re not fretting about getting a warning, are you, Lucy? Because I’ve told you, if need be we can get the union onto it.’
But Lucy was adamant. ‘No, Kathleen, I don’t want that. Anyway, I won’t give her the chance to carpet me again … not if I can help it, anyway.’
‘All right, Lucy, no union,’ Kathleen conceded. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow. Mind how you go, eh?’
‘You too, and thanks, Kathleen.’
‘What for?’
‘Well … for siding with me, and listening to my troubles.’
‘You’re welcome. Ooh, there’s Barney!’ Kathleen spied the foreman, a handsome man some ten years older than Kathleen. ‘I’ve been meaning to ask him about my machine. It keeps playing up.’ She gave a naughty wink. ‘’Bye, Lucy … see you.’
Lucy had to chuckle. ‘Shame on you, Kathleen Riley, you brazen little hussy!’
She set off, leaving the effervescent Kathleen openly flirting with the foreman.
Turning the corner, Lucy crossed the street and headed for the park. A few quiet minutes there would be just lovely. She reminded herself of how often she used to walk home through that way, but she had not done so for some time, and anyway, the nights were only now drawing out after the harsh winter.
Lately, she seemed never to have the time to linger. Instead, she was forever chasing her tail, with no opportunity to relax.
Now, though, in spite of the teasing breeze, she was determined to follow her instinct. The closer she got to the park gates, the quicker she walked, and the lighter her weary heart felt. There was something magical about the park, with its secret, meandering pathways and majestic trees.
In spring, the park was a surprise and a delight, with its curving swathes of wild flowers, all mixed in with cultivated plants. The riot of colour and profusion could take one’s breath away.
Deep in thought, Lucy reflected on that meaningful little talk with Kathleen at lunchtime. It was right what Kathleen had said about never knowing what was round the corner.
Lucy recognised how her own world had become small and restricted. She suddenly recalled her mother’s prophetic words of many years ago, when she and Paula were schoolgirls. ‘I think Lucy will be the home-maker,’ their mother had remarked.
She also made a light-hearted prediction for her younger daughter. ‘As for our Paula, it wouldn’t surprise me if she turned out to be a home-breaker.’
It was no secret that while Lucy was her father’s favourite, Paula was close to their mother. However wayward Paula had been when growing up, and however much anguish she had brought her parents, that bond between mother and daughter had not changed over the years.
It was not in Lucy’s character to be jealous, for she loved all her family in equal measure. Knowing her sister’s penchant for trouble, Lucy was given the responsibility of looking out for Paula. As instructed by both her concerned parents, Lucy would walk her younger sister to and from school.
She was also expected to make sure that Paula actually went into her designated classroom because, being something of a rebel, Paula would not think twice about playing truant, but even though Lucy carried out her given responsibilities with much diligence, the truant officer was forever out and about, searching for Paula.
He once caught Paula playing in the park, and throwing stones at the ducks as they strutted about. Another time he found her playing football in one of the local backstreets with two boys truanting from a different school.
When the truant officer marched all three back to their schools, they giggled and sniggered as though it was all a great adventure.
Shepherded into the headmaster’s office, the boys each suffered the slicing heat of a wicker cane on their buttocks. The pain was such that it reduced them to tears, but not so great as to stop them from truanting again.
Paula suffered a severe lecture from her head teacher, who warned her of her wanton ways. She also received two strokes of the best on the palm of each hand, which she endured without even a flinch.
At his wits’ end, her father banned her from leaving the house after school for a period of two weeks.
To his younger, more defiant daughter, that was the worst punishment of all.


Having taken her little dog for a long walk around the far reaches of the park, Mary Taylor walked him back through the spinney, where she was immensely thankful to sit on a bench and get her breath back.
‘You’re a demanding little thing!’ She tickled Rascal’s hairy neck. ‘I would never part with you, though, because, hard work or not, I love the bones of you.’
Taking a moment to stretch her aching back, she took a deep, invigorating breath, while chatting to herself as she often did. ‘Well, Mary, you’ve enjoyed the fresh air, you’ve been dragged round the park by this bag of fur,’ she glanced at the dog, ‘and you’ve stretched your legs to breaking point, so now it’s time for home.’
When the dog yapped at her as though in disagreement, she told him firmly, ‘We’ve had enough excitement for one day. You might be ready for another round, but I’m well and truly done in!’ She wagged a bony finger at him. ‘I’m sure I don’t know whose bones must ache the most, yours or mine!’
Tightening the scarf round her neck and shoulders, she addressed the little dog as though he understood every word. ‘I never meant to stay out this long. What’s more, I’m thoroughly ashamed of you, chasing that poor moggy up a tree. I’ve a good mind to ban you from the park for a week. That should teach you some manners!’
Looking up, she was surprised to see Lucy making her way along the bottom pathway. ‘Lucy!’ Mary called out to her. ‘Lucy Lovejoy!’
Pleased to see her sister’s kindly neighbour, Lucy hurried towards her. ‘Hello, Mary. How are you?’
‘Hmm! You might well ask.’ Mary gave a little groan. ‘I should have been at home by now, sitting at the fire with a cup of soup to warm my bones. As it is, I’m late getting back, and all because this little devil has a thing for chasing cats up trees.’
She went on to describe the adventure in great detail. ‘The poor moggy was terrified, but your lordship here,’ she pointed to Rascal, ‘he thought it was great fun, yapping at her to come down. And when I did manage to persuade the poor thing down it swiped at me with its claws fully drawn before taking off. Like a bat out of hell, it was!’
Lucy wagged a finger at the scowling dog. ‘That wasn’t very nice, was it, trapping the poor thing up a tree?’
‘The cat wasn’t altogether innocent,’ Mary explained. ‘The moggy started it by chasing the birds round and round. When Rascal went after her, she fought back and Rascal got the worst of it. After licking his wounds, he went after the cat again, but she shot up to the highest branch, leaving him in a right frenzy.’
She slumped back on the bench. ‘We must have walked ten miles; round and round we went. We came back the longest way, past the gardens and on through the spinney. To tell you the truth, Lucy, I’m about done in!’
Lucy could see how tired Mary was. ‘You shouldn’t be rushing and chasing about. You’ll do yourself an injury.’
‘I know, but I do enjoy it, though I’m not sure whose feet ache the most, his or mine.’
Lucy changed the subject. ‘How’s Peter? I haven’t seen either of you, not since I paid my sister a visit. That must be, what, over a week back.’ She tutted. ‘Goodness! How time flies.’
‘Yes, and yes again. We’re both fine, thank you, Lucy.’
Mary was reminded of the bad fall Lucy’s mother had suffered at the market some time back. ‘How’s your mum, by the way, since she tumbled down the market steps?’
‘Oh, she’s getting there bit by bit. Her wounds are healed, but she’s really nervous of going out. Dad coaxed her back to the market the other day, to build her confidence. He walked her gently up and down the stairway where she fell and hurt herself.’
‘He did right, but it can’t have been easy for your mum,’ Mary sympathised.
‘That’s true. Dad said she was a bag of nerves, that he lost count of how many times she wanted to go home. We’re all so worried about her. She frets a lot more than she used to. She’s got a habit of pacing up and down all the time. It’s as if she can’t rest,’ Lucy confided. ‘And she’s got really forgetful of late. It’s not like her at all.’
‘Give her time, Lucy. She’s had a shock to the system, and that can often be worse than a physical injury.’
‘She’s started forgetting things, like putting food in the cooker and leaving it to burn. Last week she ran a bath and came downstairs, leaving the taps running. It was only when Dad saw the water dripping from the kitchen ceiling that he realised what she’d done. He phoned us, and Martin went round to check for any damage, but thankfully it wasn’t too bad once he’d dried it all out.’ Lucy went on, ‘I’m trying to persuade Mum to see the doctor, but she’s being difficult about it.’
‘You’re a good daughter,’ Mary told her, ‘and you’re right in persuading her to see a doctor. I’m sure it can be all sorted out.’
Lucy hoped so. ‘I don’t know what’s happening, Mary. Just lately, it’s one thing after another.’
In that moment, Mary thought of how things were worse than Lucy could possibly imagine, with her two-timing husband and her own sister having a full-blown affair. It was a wicked and shocking betrayal. After what she had witnessed the previous morning, the knowledge that those two were cheating on Lucy had been gnawing at her ever since.
She was on the verge of telling Lucy what was going on behind her back, but then she remembered how Peter had been dead set against either of them getting involved.
Mary, however, did not agree with sweeping it all under the table, and besides, she believed that Lucy deserved to know the truth. One way or another, she must make Lucy aware of what was going on. She had been agonising over it, but how could she tell Lucy without actually getting herself and Peter involved?
While she thought of it now, a sudden, sneaky idea came to her. Yes! The answer was right there all the time.
Lucy’s quiet voice jolted Mary out of her thoughts. ‘Mary, are you all right?’
Startled, Mary looked up. ‘Oh, Lucy, I am sorry. Yes, I’m fine … I was just thinking.’
Lucy understood. ‘I expect you’re tired, what with Rascal’s adventure and everything.’
‘You’re right. I was close to nodding off.’
Mary bitterly regretted having to deceive Lucy, but it was the best way if she and Peter were not to be drawn in. But she had to do it now, in case it was a while before she saw Lucy again. ‘Lucy?’
Lucy looked up from stroking the little dog. ‘Yes, Mary?’ When the older woman hesitated, Lucy sensed her nervousness. ‘What is it?’
‘Oh, I don’t suppose it’s anything really, only what with you saying you haven’t seen Paula for over a week, I was just wondering … is she all right?’
‘Well, yes … I think so, but what makes you ask?’
‘I’m sorry, Lucy, I really shouldn’t worry you … you’ve got enough to think about, what with your mother and such …’
‘Has Paula been a nuisance?’ Lucy asked. ‘I know how rude she can be if the mood takes her. Come on, Mary, out with it. What’s she done to upset you?’
Mary was beginning to regret having started this conversation, but she held her resolve and continued with the deception. ‘Oh, no! She hasn’t upset me. In fact, we’re the best of neighbours at the minute; as long as my cat doesn’t get in her back garden and leave his mark.’ She went on, ‘Look, I don’t want to worry you, Lucy. It’s just that I had not seen her for a couple of days, but this morning as I passed her house she was talking to the postman and, to be honest, she looked so tired and pale … all kind of huddled up … not at all like the Paula we know.’
‘Oh dear.’ Lucy felt guilty. ‘She’s had a rough time of it lately, but I really thought she was dealing with her marriage break-up. The trouble is, our Paula hardly ever confides in anyone. She likes to think she’s invincible.’
Lucy went back over the past few months in her mind. While Paula’s husband, Ray, had tried his hardest to keep the marriage together, Paula seemed to be hankering after a life without him and, as ever, she was her own worst enemy.
‘Paula was the one at fault in the marriage, but she wouldn’t listen,’ Lucy admitted. ‘She obviously thought that Ray would forgive her, however she behaved. When he walked away from it all, she was shocked to her roots, and it’s such a shame, because he idolised her. And deep down I know she truly loved him. But now you’ve got me worried, Mary. I must find time to go and see her … make sure she’s all right. The thing is, I planned to check on Mum tonight. You know she’s been upset and ill since the fall, and I thought me going over to see them might give Dad a little break. And tonight was ideal, what with Martin working late, and Sam off out with his mates.’
The decision was made. ‘I’d best go and see Paula tonight, though. I mean, she’s the only one of us who doesn’t have anyone at home to talk things through with … not since Ray walked out. I can ring Dad from there. I’m sure he’ll understand.’
Mary was curious. ‘Is Paula’s marriage well and truly over then?’
‘Well, yes. From what I understand, she’s been served with the divorce papers, but she’s taking her time to sign them. The trouble is, ever since Ray left, she was certain he would never serve the papers. She was convinced that the two of them would get back together. Receiving the papers knocked her back a bit, though, being Paula, she would never admit it.’
A few minutes later, anxious to make sure her sister was coping, Lucy bade Mary cheerio and set off at a fast pace towards the bus stop, thinking that it wasn’t wise for Paula to show a brave face to the world when inside she must be devastated. No one could help her if she didn’t let them in. Lucy realised that her younger sister was still reeling from the end of her marriage. It was a huge, painful milestone in her life.
Knowing her sister’s unpredictable character, Lucy quickened her steps.


Having carefully manoeuvred his van into the narrow alcove, Martin went at the run down the alley, skipped up the two steps into Paula’s back garden, and let himself in through the back door.
Having seen his approach through the back window, Paula hid behind the kitchen door and waited to surprise him. She was wearing only a short, slinky slip; and a disappointed frown.
Entering the kitchen, Martin kicked out with his heel to shut the door. He then grabbed Paula and pressed her hard against the wall.
‘Ready for me, are you?’ His roving hands reached inside her slip.
‘Where the hell have you been?’ She pushed him away. ‘You should have been here ten minutes ago.’
Surprised at the vehemence of her tone, he gathered her to him. ‘Hey! It couldn’t be helped,’ he explained softly. ‘I had a last-minute complication with the electrics. It won’t happen again, I promise.’
‘It had better not, because if you ever keep me waiting again, I’ll bolt the door so you can’t get in.’
‘You wouldn’t dare!’
‘Huh! Don’t bet on it!’ Squirming from his grasp, Paula fled up the stairs, laughing and teasing as he chased her into the bedroom.


Anxious to speak with her younger sister, Lucy hurried down the street, her heels beating against the pavement as she neared the house. She thought of how Mary Taylor had described Paula as looking sad. Paula had best come and stay with me for a while, Lucy decided as she hurried along. It’s a pity she’s not full time at the petrol station because now it will give her more time to fret. I can’t leave her alone in that house, wittering and worrying, and making herself ill. But who can blame her for feeling miserable? What with the endless rows between her and Ray, then the difficult marriage break-up, and then getting sacked and having to find a new job.
When Lucy took a moment to compare her own life against her sister’s, she truly believed that Paula was worse off. While she, Lucy, had a husband and children, and a full-time job, even if it was hanging by a thread, Paula had none of these blessings.
She’s been through the mill, Lucy acknowledged, but she must know that I will always be here for her.
On arriving at the back door of Paula’s house, she stood on the step a moment, wondering what she might say. She reminded herself not to say that Mary had been talking to her. It would only cause trouble.
Bunching her knuckles to knock on the door, she was surprised to find it slightly open. Honestly! she thought. What have I told her about leaving the back door open? Anyone could walk in!
She gently pushed the door open, and was about to shout for Paula, when she heard the sound of voices from upstairs. One of them sounded like that of a man.
A smile crept over her homely face. Maybe Ray had decided to come home after all.
Though nervous about intruding, she made her way to the foot of the stairs, where she was shocked to her roots to recognise the man’s voice as belonging to her own husband.
She wondered if Paula had arranged for him to call round because of a problem in the house, but he had not said anything about that at breakfast; she would have remembered.
Think, Lucy! she told herself. Martin doesn’t always discuss the details of his work schedule. But if he was working at Paula’s house, surely he would have mentioned that?
Confused and a little apprehensive, she sensed that something was not right. Yet still she chided herself for allowing her imagination to run away with her. She told herself that it could not be Martin upstairs – she would have seen his van outside – and the voices were softly intimate, with the occasional childish titter of suggestive laughter. And yet …
Ashamed, Lucy tried to blank out the bad thoughts. She told herself that it could not be Martin up in the bedroom; and more shame on her for allowing herself even to think it.
It must be Ray, come home to talk things through, with the hope of repairing the marriage. Lucy’s heart lifted at the thought of a reunion between Paula and her estranged husband.
And yet that small, nagging voice in her head was warning her that something was not right here.
Having allowed suspicion to creep into her mind, she wondered whether she ought to make herself known. She was about to call up to them when there came a burst of familiar manly laughter. Lucy’s heart stood still.
There was no doubt in her mind now. The voice, the laughter … it was Martin, her husband.
For what seemed an age, Lucy stood transfixed, her ears assailed with a burst of intimate groans and excited cries, the kind only lovers might make.
As the stark realisation took hold, she could barely breathe. Although she promised herself that she was wrong, and this was not happening, she knew it was. As the lovers continued to laugh and whisper together, the truth was undeniable. It really was Martin and her sister, upstairs in each other’s arms.
Devastated, she turned to leave, wiping away her tears, but then a swell of rage flooded through her and shock turned to anger. No! She had to see them together. She needed each of them to look up and see her standing there. Only then would she be completely certain.
Lucy knew that if she ran away from the truth now, she would live to regret it.
Her mind was set. Whatever shocking images she might discover, and however painful it might prove, she would rather know the truth than be forever wondering.
And so, on nervous legs she continued on up the stairs, and along the landing. The bawdy laughter drowned out the sound of her approach.
In that first, hesitant moment when she entered the bedroom, Lucy was sickened by what she saw.
They lay in the bed, exhausted … coupled together. The sheet was crumpled part-way down, their naked bodies entwined. Paula had her hand on the back of Martin’s head, her fingers caressing his hair, and Martin was lying over her, his face nuzzling her breasts.
For the longest moment, they remained blissfully unaware that she was in the room, watching them, unable to move forward, or flee from the room. Lucy saw her husband and her sister, as close and together as any man and woman could be, and she realised that as long as she lived, the image would stay with her.
A wave of coldness folded over her, and she began to sob, silently at first; then, as the pain intensified, the sobs became uncontrollable.
Martin looked up, his eyes wide with shock. ‘Oh my God … Lucy!’ Tearing at the sheet, he covered his nakedness and ran across the room towards her. ‘Lucy … I’m sorry … I’m so sorry!’ he screamed after her as she ran down the stairs. ‘Lucy … please … wait!’
Behind him, Paula was nervously giggling; though tears were not far behind.
As Lucy ran out of the front door and down the street, Martin ran back into the bedroom. ‘I need to go after her!’ he gasped, snatching up his clothes and quickly dressing. A moment later, he was fleeing down the street after Lucy.
Even now, he was arrogant enough to expect her forgiveness.
Lucy, though, was long gone. Bitter tears clouded her vision as she fled, half running, half stumbling, her mind filled with what she had seen. ‘How could they?’ she kept asking herself. Even though she had seen them together with her own eyes, Lucy found it difficult to believe they could both betray her so cruelly.


Having taken a short cut home, Mary Taylor arrived just as Lucy was walking up the alley towards Paula’s house. She saw Lucy go in, and now she saw her running away.
She heard Martin calling out, ‘Come back … please, Lucy … we need to talk!’
Lucy gave no answer, nor did she look back. Instead, she ran on blindly, tears streaming from her eyes.
Watching from the window, Mary saw how distressed Lucy was, and she blamed herself. ‘You interfering old woman!’ She banged her clenched fist hard on the windowsill. ‘Why couldn’t you have minded your own business, and left well alone?’
Falling into her armchair, she cried bitterly.
A moment later she felt a comforting hand on her shoulder. ‘Don’t upset yourself.’ The soft, kindly voice soothed her troubled mind as Peter held her to him. ‘It was only a matter of time before Lucy found out anyway.’
‘Oh, Peter, I feel so ashamed. I should never have interfered. You were right to warn me against it, but I couldn’t bear to see how she was being made a fool of.’
Peter’s own feelings were much the same. ‘I’ll admit, when you told me what you’d done, I was angry. But after thinking it through, I believe you did the right and proper thing. Like you, I feel for Lucy, but at least she knows now. You’ve done what you can, and now we must take a step back. It’s up to Lucy as to how she deals with it.’
Greatly relieved, Mary wound her hand into his. ‘You’re such a blessing to me,’ she said softly. ‘I do love you so.’
Holding her to him, Peter smiled contentedly. ‘I know you do, sweetheart. I also know what a very fortunate man I am.’

CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_bb3da51f-3f74-533c-866d-5f38e64c1611)
WANDERING THROUGH THE quiet streets, Lucy made a forlorn figure.
The late April showers had now developed into a heavy downpour, but she didn’t even notice. Instead, she pressed silently on, deep in thought, not knowing where she was or how far she had walked.
Try as she might, she could not shut out the image of Martin and Paula, lying together in her bed, the two of them stark naked and unashamed.
She recalled how natural and easy they were together. It must have been going on for a long time, she quickly realised. They were too comfortable with each other, laughing and teasing like long-time lovers; wickedly at ease together.
The more she thought of it, the more she realised the depth of their deceit. Martin’s work van had been nowhere to be seen. So had he hidden it? Was the whole thing planned right down to the last detail?
She had so many unanswered questions. How could Martin do this to her … and with her own sister? Martin was her whole life. The man she had loved and trusted all these years, and like an idiot, thought he loved her too.
When the rain spewed down and blinded her so she could hardly see where she was going, Lucy ran along the street and took refuge in a nearby bus shelter.
Completely drenched, she curled up on the wooden seat at the back of the shelter, hoping that there she might be left alone.
Dark was closing in. The street was empty, and the light by the shelter was flickering, creating ghostly shadows to unnerve her.
In that desolate moment, she felt like the loneliest person in the world. She put her hands over her face and sobbed, her heart broken. She had given Martin her whole life – and this was what it had come to.
A short time later, she caught snatches of conversation between two people nearby; seemingly a man and a woman. They were approaching quickly, and then they were running to escape the rain, their rhythmic footsteps clipping over the pavement, every second bringing them closer.
Convinced that they were making for the shelter, Lucy pressed herself closer to the back wall, hiding in the shadows. The last thing she needed right now was for strangers to see her there.
As they approached the shelter, their raised voices became more distinct. Now they were laughing aloud at something the woman had said.
‘The place at Littleton is the answer,’ the man told her. ‘It’s absolutely perfect for you.’
Suddenly the woman lost her footing, crying out as she stumbled. ‘Dammit! I should never have worn these new, high-heeled shoes. What was I thinking?’
Lucy froze when the woman leaned against the opening of the shelter. ‘Stand still!’ The man’s voice was kindly but firm. ‘Hold on to me, Nancy.’
Though they had not yet realised Lucy was there, she could see the two of them clearly. The man was tall and smartly dressed. He held the woman steady while she took off the offending shoe.
‘All right, are you?’
‘It serves me right,’ she replied, ‘but I dare say I’ll live … thanks, Dave.’ Gently rubbing her foot, she chuckled. ‘Nothing broken,’ she reported, ‘except for my stupid pride!’
Lucy cowered back, swiftly wiping the tears from her face.
Just then the man glanced up, to see Lucy squashed into the corner of the bench. ‘Good Lord, you gave me a fright!’
‘What …?’ the woman followed his gaze. On seeing Lucy, she quickly slid her foot into the shoe and stood up straight. ‘Whatever are you doing here … in the dark, on your own?’ She glanced about as though expecting to see someone else there.
Realising that these two were not thugs who might attack and rob her, Lucy scrambled off the bench and made her way towards them. ‘I got caught out in the rain,’ she explained. ‘I dived in here to try to dry off. Now that the rain seems to have stopped, I’d best be on my way.’
The man was concerned, and his kind eyes took in her bedraggled appearance and tear-stained face. ‘I don’t know how long you’ve been curled up in this damp place, but you must be feeling cold to the bone. Look, we were just popping into the pub across the street. You’re very welcome to join us.’
Lucy saw the woman’s surprise at her companion inviting a complete stranger to join them, but she said nothing. The woman was indeed taken aback by his generous invitation. Normally, Dave Benson would not be so reckless.
The woman, Nancy, now regarded Lucy, thinking her attractive in a gentle, homely kind of way. Not at all the kind of confident, well-groomed woman Dave might be drawn to. Nancy was both bemused and interested. This quietly spoken, wet and bedraggled woman had clearly stirred compassion in Dave. It was obvious that he was loath to leave her there alone.
Lucy was surprised and moved by the stranger’s kind invitation, and touched by his obvious concern for her welfare. Another time, she might have accepted his offer of friendship. Just now, though, she needed solace to try to deal with the painful truth regarding the two people she had loved and trusted.
A multitude of questions reeled through her mind. Was Martin planning to end their marriage? And if he truly wanted that, did she want the same? Could she carry on the sham? Could she even keep quiet about having seen them together?
And what about her sister, Paula – what was she thinking? Was it just a daring fling, a kind of excitement for her? Or did she really want to take Martin away from his wife and children?
Lucy knew that whether or not she lost Martin, she alone would be the biggest loser. So, for the sake of her family, should she pretend, and carry on as usual? The more she thought about it, the more Lucy realised that she alone might be the one either to save, or to break the family. That was the crippling dilemma she now faced. It was painfully obvious that she must decide what to do. One thing was certain: she could never again love Martin; at least not in the same way. Nor could she keep a respectable relationship with her sister.
As for her parents, they would be devastated if they knew but Lucy could never burden them with the shameful truth.
Seeing how distant and troubled Lucy seemed, Dave Benson asked again, ‘So, what do you say? Will you join me and Nancy?’
‘No, I’m sorry,’ Lucy replied. ‘I really have to be somewhere else.’
She was in no mood for company. Least of all, the company of strangers, however friendly they might be.
She walked out of the bus shelter and onto the pavement. ‘Thank you all the same,’ she told the couple. ‘The thing is … I was already on my way to visit Mum. She’s not been very well of late. Then the rain came down and I dodged in here.’ She glanced at the brooding skies. ‘Thankfully, though, it seems to be clearing now.’
Noticing how Lucy had crossed her arms over her chest and was visibly shivering, Nancy said, ‘There’s usually a roaring fire going at the pub. Dave is right, you really do need to warm up, and maybe have a bite to eat. With luck, we can grab a table near to the fire.’ Like Dave, she sensed that this homely little woman was genuinely distressed and in dire need of a friend. However, they both respected her reluctance to go with them to the pub.
Dave thought they should leave it at that. Albeit reluctantly.
‘It’s obvious you need to be on your way,’ he said. ‘Take care now, and I hope your mother’s health improves. I’m sure she will be very glad to see you.’
‘Thank you, yes, I’m sure she will.’ His concern was comforting to Lucy. She liked the way he had somehow managed to ease her trauma, and she liked his easy, gentle smile.
She thought there was something very genuine and caring about the man called Dave. More than that, he had a certain kind of warmth that reached out. She thought he would make a loyal friend.
‘Thank you for your kind offer.’ She then gave the smallest of smiles and turned away, walking at such a hurried pace that the strangers thought she might break into a run.
Dave and Nancy went on their way, but for some reason Dave glanced back. As he did so, Lucy slowed her pace and turned her head to smile at him. She then waved her hand and hurried away.
Dave walked on, her intimate little smile playing on his mind. In that fleeting moment, he felt incredibly sad.
One thing was certain: he would not forget her in a hurry.
‘Hey!’ Unaware that he was deep in thought, Nancy linked arms as they strolled along. ‘Did you hear what I said?’
‘No. What did you say?’
‘I asked you, why would anyone curl up all alone in a dark, damp shelter? Very odd, if you ask me.’
For a moment Dave was unresponsive, and when he did speak it was not to supply an answer to her question. ‘We didn’t even introduce ourselves, did we?’
‘Hmm!’ Nancy shrugged. ‘No, we didn’t. But she didn’t introduce herself to us either, so that’s all right, isn’t it?’
‘I suppose.’
Dave fell silent, speaking again only as they entered the pub. ‘Nance?’
‘What?’
‘I really feel for that poor woman.’
‘Me too. But you need to forget about her. After all, she’s gone now. And it was obvious she did not want our help.’
‘But did you see how she was?’ Dave persisted.
‘What do you mean? In what way?’
‘Well, she’d clearly been crying.’
‘Yes, and we don’t really know how long she’d been taking refuge in that damp shelter.’
Something else crossed her mind. ‘I’d like to know why she was there, in that draughty, dirty old shelter, anyway. I mean, she obviously didn’t dodge in there to escape the rain, because she could have run into the pub, or caught a taxi or something, and she certainly wasn’t waiting for a bus.’
‘Why do you say that?’
‘Well, because it’s common knowledge that the bus stop went out of service long ago. Why was she really there, all huddled up in a cold, damp bus shelter? If we hadn’t seen her, she probably would have stayed there all night. I think she’s in hiding, running away from something. Or someone.’
‘Mmm, she has a really sad and lonely look about her.’
Nancy persisted, ‘I’m certain she was hiding. Why didn’t she make herself known before you saw her huddled up in the corner? And why was she crying – that’s what I’d like to know!’
Taking her by the elbow, Dave gently ushered Nancy through to the lounge bar. ‘You want to know too much. After all, even if she was in trouble of some kind, it’s obvious she didn’t want to talk about it.’
Nancy chattered on. ‘And another thing! Do we really believe that her mother was ill? Or was that another excuse to rush away from us?’
Dave was not about to discuss the matter any further. ‘Stop right there!’ He gestured to the far corner of the lounge. ‘You go and sit down. Usual, is it? Lemonade shandy?’
‘Please, and could you bring the bar menu while you’re at it? Thank you.’
As she slid into the chair, Nancy’s curious gaze was drawn to the window. I don’t care what anyone says, she decided, that woman was in some kind of trouble. I just know it!
A few minutes later, on seeing Dave approach, she settled back into the chair. ‘OK! Not another word,’ she promised. ‘Let’s just enjoy our meal, shall we? Oh, and you can advise me on this new project of mine. I want you to be brutally honest if you think my ideas are rubbish!’
‘Oh, I will, don’t worry!’
Dave was thankful when they embarked on the subject of Nancy’s new venture into the hotel trade.
Nancy prattled on excitedly. ‘With your generous loan, and the promise of financial backing from the bank, I’ve now put in my bid. It’s a little below the asking price, but I’ve got a good feeling they might well accept it. After all, as you so rightly pointed out, it’s difficult to secure finance just now, so there aren’t many buyers around.’ Leaning over, she gave him a kiss on the cheek. ‘I could not even have started on this venture without your help. You pointed me in the right direction, like I knew you would.’
‘I believe in you,’ he said simply. ‘I know my money will be safe. Honestly, though, Nance, I’m truly happy for you. I realise you were bitterly disappointed when your relationship with Joe broke up. But you came through it, and now here you are, about to embark on a great adventure, doing something you’ve always wanted to do. I just know your new life will be everything you want it to be.’
Discreetly regarding his older sister, he saw a new, stronger woman, confident and ambitious. ‘Well done, Nance. I’m proud of you!’
‘Thank you, but I would feel so much happier if you could change your mind and come in as a partner.’
Dave reminded her, ‘You do understand why I had to say no, don’t you?’
‘Yes, I do. It was thoughtless and selfish of me to ask … especially after what we’ve all been through this past year – you more than most.’
When bad feelings now flooded back, Dave leaned forward, his sorry gaze on the table. ‘I still find it so hard, Nance. Some days I wonder if I can actually get through it, but then somehow I do. My main worry at the moment is Cassie. I know I have to be strong for her. I can’t and won’t desert her, even though she’s turned her back on me.’
‘She hasn’t turned her back on you – not altogether. When she decided to go to her aunt Ellie’s house for a time, she did leave you a note to explain, didn’t she?’
‘Yes, she did, but I would rather she had discussed it with me first.’
‘But she did leave most of her worldly belongings at home, didn’t she?’
‘Yes.’
‘And when you rang Ellie, didn’t Cassie come to the phone and talk with you?’
Dave smiled. ‘Yes, but like I told you, when we talked it was too polite; too difficult. The thing is, she would not be drawn into talking about her mum, nor would she say when she might be coming home.’
Nancy spelled it out for him. ‘Stop punishing yourself, and look on the positive side. Ellie said yes when Cassie asked to live with her for a time. Be glad of that, Dave, because if she had not gone to your sister-in-law, who knows where she might have ended up?’
‘She should have come home with me,’ Dave reminded her gently. ‘That’s where she belongs. That’s where her mum would want her to be.’
Nancy made no comment. Instead, she continued, ‘Remember, when you got home, you found she had left you a note explaining how she felt, and that you should not worry about her. She also left behind a lot of her prized possessions, so that tells you she does mean to come home at some point. It also shows that she does love you.’
‘I understand all of that, but she won’t let me get close, Nance. She blames me, and she will never forgive me … but how can I blame her for that, when I can’t even forgive myself?’
When the powerful memories flooded back to cripple him, he leaned forward, running his clenched fists through his thick, dark hair. ‘She’s my daughter, Nance. With her mother gone, Cassie is everything to me. I need her! And whether she realises it or not, she needs me.’
Nancy laid her hand over his. ‘Cassie will eventually accept that the accident was not your fault. The driver was drunk out of his mind. Thankfully, he’s in prison now, where he belongs. Don’t take Cassie’s decision too much to heart. It has been just a year since Molly was killed, and neither you nor Cassie has been able to deal with it completely. I know it’s difficult, for both of you … for all of us! But you must pick up the pieces and live your lives. It’s what Molly would have wanted.’
‘I know that.’ He looked up, his face worn with grief. ‘It’s never easy, though. Losing Molly was the hardest, cruellest thing ever. Cassie is just nineteen, and she’s been left without her mum. It’s like her world has ended.’ He added softly, ‘Mine too. So, you can imagine, trying to live our lives without her is incredibly difficult.’
‘Do you think I don’t know that? But Cassie must realise the blame is not on your shoulders. That’s too cruel.’
‘She doesn’t blame me for the accident itself,’ Dave explained, ‘she blames me for persuading Molly to meet up with my old schoolmates. I hadn’t seen them in years and then I had a call from Stuart. He said they were staying overnight in town, before heading off in the morning for Scotland. I was thrilled, but Molly didn’t really want to go out that evening. In the end she got herself ready because she felt guilty.’
He took a moment to compose himself. ‘If only I hadn’t persuaded Molly to come and meet them, we would never have been on that stretch of road, on that particular night, and Molly would still be here with us.’ His voice dropped to a whisper. ‘When that madman careered into us, I was in the wrong place at the wrong time.’
‘Not your fault, though! Cassie will see that in good time. Give her the space she needs, and I’m sure she’ll come round.’
‘I’m not sure, Nance.’ Dave had lost hope on that score. ‘It’s been months now. After the funeral, she walked away from me, and turned to Molly’s sister, Ellie. Ellie now tells me that Cassie has confided that she can’t ever again face living in her own home. I think I should sell up, if that’s what she truly wants. But we need to talk about it. I believe we might be able to get through this together.’
‘Be patient, Dave.’ Nancy squeezed his fist. ‘Just keep in contact with Cassie, and respect her wishes. If you can do that, I know it won’t be long before you and Cassie are stronger than ever.’
‘Nance?’
‘Yes?’
‘Thank you.’
‘What for?’
‘For listening.’
‘Don’t be silly! Isn’t that what big sisters are for?’
Changing the subject, she began flicking through the pages of the menu. ‘I’m hungry.’
As she bent her head low to peruse the menu, Dave noticed how she narrowed her eyes, struggling to read the small print.
‘Nance!’
‘What?’
‘Let me see.’
Irritated, she thrust the menu across the table. ‘Go on then! Read it out, will you? Why on earth they make the print so small I really can’t imagine!’
‘Hmm! And I can’t imagine why you don’t bury your pride and see an optician.’
‘It’s nothing to do with pride,’ she argued. ‘The reason why I don’t go to the optician is because there is absolutely nothing wrong with my eyesight … thank you!’
‘OK, have it your way.’ After he read the menu out, she made her choice and Dave returned to the bar with the order. Glancing back, he couldn’t help but smile as Nancy bent her head low to read the ‘What’s On’ sheet that was on the table.
It was a sharp reminder of how Nancy and his wife, Molly, used to play the quiz here on Saturday nights.
In that moment of nostalgia, he remembered with gratitude the wonderful woman he had loved … and still loved, even now, though she was not here with him.
While having been blessed in one way, he felt cruelly cheated in another. For twenty wonderful years he had known great love and companionship, and now the love of his life was gone, and Cassie, their only child, was too distressed to come home. He prayed every night for her to return soon. He missed her terribly. But, as Nancy had pointed out, he should remember that he was not the only one to lose someone precious. And so he would try to be patient, and pray that Cassie would eventually come home to him of her own free will. And when that happened he would welcome his darling girl with open arms.
Without Cassie and her mother, the house seemed cold and empty. In the daytime, he had his work, but the loneliness stayed with him. After work, when he got home and closed the door behind him, that was the worst time of all.
Left alone in an empty house that had once been filled with joy and laughter, he felt utterly lost.
‘Hey! What took you so long?’ Nancy had grown impatient when he had seemed to linger at the bar. ‘Chatting to the barman, were you?’ she asked.
‘Not really. He was too busy serving customers.’
‘Good for him! Making money is what it’s all about.’ She clapped her hands together. ‘Oh, Dave! I can’t wait to get my hotel up and running.’
While Nancy chatted on excitedly about her new venture on the south coast, he stole a moment to glance out the window, his gaze instinctively drawn to the bus shelter.
He wondered about the woman they had seen hiding there in the shadows. He found it hard to put her out of his mind. There was something about her, he thought: the sad look in her eyes, the desperate manner in which she hurried away …
Oh, and that small, hesitant little wave as she went.
Even now, he had no real idea why he had invited her to join them. It was completely out of his nature to be so bold.
Somehow, though, in that quiet, homely stranger, he had sensed a kindred spirit.

CHAPTER FIVE (#ulink_b2fb15a0-837a-50f9-ab90-e048e7b05af1)
LUCY’S MIND WAS in chaos.
Having trudged through the darkened streets, she was now just half a mile from her parents’ house. She was tired, her bones ached from the cold, and the repulsion she felt towards Martin and her sister continued to fester inside her.
Increasingly, she was uncertain as to whether she should continue on to her parents’ house, or return home to confront Martin.
But she knew she must put her mother first. Her father had sounded really worried when she’d spoken to him before she went to work that morning.
Her parents’ house was still a good fifteen minutes’ walk away, so when she saw the bus approach, she started running to the nearest stop. The conductor was standing on the platform, having a quiet cigarette. He did not see Lucy approach until she waved her arms and called out ‘Stop!’
‘By, you cut that a bit fine, didn’t you?’ Long-faced and bald as a coot, he looked a peculiar sort. ‘Come on then!’ He stubbed out his cigarette, squeezed the end of it and shoved it into the top pocket of his jacket. Then he stepped forward to help her onto the platform. ‘Where to?’
‘Addison Street, please.’
‘OK, that’ll be one and sixpence.’
Lucy fished the coins out of her purse and handed them to him.
‘That’s it … there y’are, luv!’ He rolled the ticket from his machine, and handed it to her. ‘I’m pleased to say, you’re my last customer, and I’ll not be sorry to call it a night.’ He coughed like he was on his last legs. ‘My back aches, my poor old feet are hot and tired, and I’m starving hungry. But I dare say a pint of the best will do the trick.’ He gave a toothy grin. ‘I’m hoping to catch the Dog and Duck before they close their doors for the night.’
Lucy feigned interest and duly smiled, when inside she was in pieces. Her thoughts kept going back to Paula and Martin … how could they do that to her? She had to face the truth: it was obvious that Martin did not love her. It was equally obvious that Paula cared even less about her. And the more she tried to shut the images from her mind, the more she came to realise that her life as she knew it was over.
But what was she to tell Anne and Samuel, and how would they take it? If all this had come as a mighty shock to her, what would it do to them? The more she thought about it, the more concerned she became.
Thinking of her parents, Lucy faced worry of another kind. According to her dad, it seemed her mother, far from improving in health since suffering that bad fall, was getting worse.
Yet on the occasions when she had gone over to visit her parents, Lucy herself had not noticed any significant deterioration in her mother. But then she was not as familiar with her mother’s recovery as her dad was, although she was on the phone every day to check up on her progress.
The trouble was, with her full-time work, the family to take care of, her normal daily chores and the household finances, she was forever trying to balance everything. Sometimes she wondered if her life was her own. There was never enough time to keep a closer eye on her mother, though she did what she could.
Seated at the back of the bus, and with no other passengers on board, Lucy leaned her head back and heaved a big sigh. It makes a change just to sit and do nothing, she thought.
It was not long before her thoughts returned to the couple at the bus stop, and she had to smile. It had been a real jolt when the man saw her there, all curled up at the back of the shelter.
She thought they were a nice couple. The man had surprised her when he asked if she might like to join them in the pub. No stranger had ever invited her anywhere.
Come to think of it, she could not recall anyone, not even work friends or family, ever asking her to join them for a meal or a drink; except for last Christmas, when Anne cooked the turkey and they all went over to her house for dinner. That had been a rare and enjoyable experience.
Most other times she was at Anne’s baby-sitting her grandchild. Other evenings, she might be up to her neck with baking, or doing the laundry, or working overtime to earn a bit of extra money. Or maybe there was a relative in need of some love and comfort. They always turned to Lucy, because they knew she would not let them down. Whatever it took, she was there for them.
When she thought about it now, she realised that when she felt down and worried, she had no one to turn to. Her husband was hardly ever home. Her children had enough problems of their own, and her parents were too old now for Lucy to burden them with her worries.
Basically, however, Lucy was content enough. Or she had been until today, when her world had been completely and utterly turned upside down.
She cast her mind back to the strangers at the bus shelter. She wondered if they were man and wife, or maybe just sweethearts. She thought the woman was attractive, while the man seemed so gentle, and unusually kind. She wondered who he was, and what had prompted him to ask her to join them.
Now though, her thoughts were interrupted when the conductor shouted out, ‘Addison Street!’
‘Good night, then … stay safe.’ He lit another cigarette as he saw her off the bus. ‘Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!’ he called after her.
Lucy waved him off. ‘Hmm, chance would be a fine thing!’ she murmured under her breath.
She turned into Addison Street. Shocked to see an ambulance parked halfway down, she broke into a run. As she got nearer to her parents’ house, she was horrified to see the front door wide open and all the lights on.
Bursting into the house, her heart skipped a beat when she saw her father slumped on the stairs, looking older and greyer than she had ever seen him.
‘Dad! What’s happened?’
Greatly relieved to see her there, he struggled to get up. ‘Lucy! Oh, Lucy, thank God you’re here!’
When he began sobbing, Lucy ran to hold him. ‘Ssh … it’s all right, Dad.’
‘It’s your mum!’ He clung to her, gabbling so fast she could hardly make out what he was telling her. ‘She fell … hit her head on the fender. I thought she was dead, Lucy. I really thought she was dead.’ He began trembling uncontrollably. ‘Go to her, Lucy. She needs you.’ Burying his head in his hands, he sobbed uncontrollably.
Just then the ambulance crew emerged from the sitting room, with Lucy’s mother secured onto a stretcher. She appeared to be unconscious. Her head was bandaged and there were splashes of blood on the upper part of her clothing.
‘Go with them, Lucy!’ her father urged her. ‘Please! I’ll be all right … go with your mother.’
Lucy was in a quandary. She hated leaving him behind but, like he said, she had to go with her mother to the hospital. ‘You really ought to come with us,’ she said, but he shook his head and pushed her away.
Thinking quickly, Lucy ran to the telephone and dialled her home number; she was thankful that it was Sam, not Martin, who answered.
‘Hello!’
‘It’s me, Sam. Grandma’s had a bad accident … No, there’s no time. Just get here and stay with Granddad … Hurry! Please hurry!’ She slammed the phone down and returned to her father. ‘Sam is on his way,’ she promised, but all he needed to know was that Lucy was going with her mother.
‘Go on!’ He ushered her away. ‘Your mum needs you more than I do … go on! I’ll be fine. I’ll wait for Sam. He’ll get me to the hospital. You go.’
When she hesitated, he yelled, ‘Please, Lucy, just go!’ He gave her a shove. ‘Your mother needs you!’
‘All right, Dad, but be sure to watch out for Sam.’ She ran down the hallway and onto the street. The ambulance men had already secured her mother and made her as comfortable as was possible.
Quickly, Lucy climbed in. She was concerned when asked to sit a short distance from her mother, as the crewman was tending to her. She understood the urgency and complied with the instruction.
Seated on the tiny bench, Lucy stretched out her arm and took hold of her mother’s hand. When her mother grew restless, Lucy squeezed her hand. ‘It’s Lucy, Mum. I love you so much. I’m here, Mum, and we’ll soon be at the hospital. Dad’s following on.’ Unsure as to whether her mother could hear her, Lucy felt absolutely helpless.
Throughout the seemingly endless journey, however, she continued talking to her mother, reassuring her.
The shock was beginning to take a grip on Lucy, who, like her dad, could not stop trembling, while her anxious gaze was fixed constantly on her mum’s bloodied face.
It looked bad to Lucy. The deep gashes and bruises ran from beneath the bandages to her jaw and chin. The wider bandages and dressing over the upper part of her face and head were soaked with blood.
Lucy was relieved when her mother began to breathe more easily, although there was still the occasional shuddering breath that she seemed to hold for ever.
As they rushed through the night with sirens screaming, Lucy’s mother grew increasingly agitated. Sliding back the cabin window, the ambulance man yelled to the driver to call ahead with further medical information.
Able to comfort her mother with words of love and a gentle squeeze of the hand, Lucy constantly reassured her.
When the ambulance turned onto the highway, she caught a passing glimpse of what looked like Martin’s van. It was going at speed in the opposite direction, towards her parents’ house. ‘Thank God!’ she murmured. ‘They’ll take care of Dad now.’
The journey to hospital seemed endless, but soon they were turning in through the gates. ‘We’re at the hospital, Mum. You’ll be all right now,’ Lucy told her mother but there was no response.
When they arrived at the emergency department doors, Lucy quickly scrambled out of the ambulance, and the driver and attendant lifted out the stretcher with her mother still unconscious. Keeping her safe between the two of them, they hastened across the tarmac and in through the emergency entrance, where the trauma team was waiting.
Lucy followed. Her voice trembling, she glanced up to the skies and prayed, ‘Please, Lord, don’t let her die. Don’t take her away from us.’
A world without her mother in it would be a bleak prospect indeed.
Inside the hospital, Lucy’s mother was rushed away. From the corridor, as the door swung shut behind the stretcher, Lucy caught a glimpse of her mother, white as chalk, the medical staff already closing in around her.
A minute later, the ambulance crew reappeared. One of them paused to reassure Lucy, and when she asked if her mother was going to be all right, his answer was gentle, but evasive. ‘I’m sure the doctor will be out to see you as soon as your mother is stabilised. I can assure you, though, she is in the best of hands.’ That said, he hurried on his way.
A few minutes later, Lucy was relieved to see a nurse approaching. ‘How is she?’ She clambered to her feet. ‘Please … will she be all right?’
The nurse had a gentle manner. ‘Your mother is not yet conscious, but she is stabilised,’ she said kindly. ‘The doctors are now assessing the full extent of her injuries. Meantime, it will help us if you could explain how exactly she sustained those injuries.’
‘I’m not altogether sure,’ Lucy explained. ‘Dad said she stumbled and hit her head on the fender. She hasn’t been too steady recently. Only a short time back, she had a nasty fall in the street. It shook her confidence, and left her frail and nervous. She’s been unusually quiet of late … not at all like her old self.’ The tears she had tried so hard to keep back now ran down her face. ‘Please, Nurse, she will be all right, won’t she?’
‘That’s not for me to say. She does have serious injuries, but like I say, she is much calmer now.’ The nurse was sympathetic, but she had no way of knowing the full extent of the injuries. ‘We’ll know what to expect after the doctors have concluded their examination. It will be some time yet, before they can talk to you, so I wonder, rather than sitting here worrying, how about I take you for a cup of tea?’
‘No!’ Lucy was adamant. ‘Thank you, but I need to speak with the doctors.’
The nurse was patient. She had been through similar situations many times, and she knew how frantic the relatives could be while they waited for news of their loved ones. ‘Please, will you come away for a few minutes? Worrying won’t help your mother. I’ll let them know where we’ll be, and in any case, we won’t be gone too long. Just long enough for you to take a breath and talk to me about your mother.’
She pointed to the door behind Lucy. ‘You’re badly shaken up, and I do understand why you don’t want to move from here. But just a few steps away, through that door, is a little café where we can sit and wait and it’s more comfortable than here. The doctors will be a while yet, so how about the two of us go through to the café and find ourselves a pot of tea? Then you can tell me what happened to your mother after she had that first fall. It’s important that the doctors know the full history.’
‘I’m frightened to leave her,’ Lucy murmured, wiping the tears from her face with her hands. ‘I need to stay here.’
The nurse laid her hand over Lucy’s. ‘It’s Lucy, isn’t it?’ She had gathered that information from the ambulance men.
‘Yes.’
‘Right then. I promise you there is nothing you can do just now. The doctors will be with your mother for some while yet, Lucy. They will also need to take X-rays, and that will add a few more minutes. So, like I say, we have time for a chat and that hot cuppa you look like you desperately need. Just a few minutes, then we’ll come back.’
Lucy thought of her mother, hurt and in trouble, without family near. ‘Are you sure they’ll know where we are if they need me?’
‘You have my word.’
‘They will let me see her soon, won’t they?’
‘That is for the doctors to decide, but I hope it won’t be too long now.’ The nurse hesitated. She knew how very serious the injuries were but, like Lucy, she had to wait for the doctors to conclude their assessment. Meantime, there was little more she could tell Lucy. ‘Look, instead of sitting here in this draughty walkway, let’s go to the café. It really is just a few steps away. When we get back, we might know more.’
‘My family are on their way. They won’t know where to find me!’ Lucy began to panic.
‘Yes they will. I’ll contact the front desk, and let them know.’
Talking constantly, she led Lucy through the door and along the empty corridor. ‘The café is open all night,’ she informed Lucy. ‘The two of us can enjoy a hot cuppa in warmer surroundings, while you tell me all about your mother.’
When Lucy made no response, except to turn and look back towards the door, the nurse drew her attention. ‘I know it’s difficult,’ she said gently, ‘but try not to worry, eh?’
Lucy merely nodded.
The corridor was long and curving, with not a soul in sight. All Lucy could see in her mind’s eye was her mother, frail and broken.

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