Journey's End (18 page)
He stopped in his tracks as she turned to look at him; in the light from the verandah he was shocked to see such raw anger on her face. As she spoke, slowly and with cold precision, he knew the hatred she felt for him. ‘
You let me think bad things of him. You took me away, when he needed me most.
’
‘No! Listen to me, Vicky. It wasn’t what
I
wanted – it was Barney’s wish.
He made me promise. He did it to save you the pain of seeing him suffer. He knew what it would be like for you …’
Shaking her head, she gave the saddest smile. ‘All that time, you knew, and you never told me, because if you had, you knew I would go back. And you didn’t want that, did you?’ Her damning words froze his heart. ‘
As long as I live, I will never forgive you.
’
Brushing by him, she
returned to the house, packed an overnight bag, collected her car keys and passed him on her way out without a word or glance.
All she could see was Barney. At that moment he filled her heart and soul; there was no room for anyone else, especially the man who had kept her from him, when Barney desperately needed her.
As she drove away, Leonard called after her. She didn’t hear him. Instead,
all she could hear was Barney calling out to her; Barney in pain; Barney left behind, his entire family gone forever.
She needed to hold him, to tell him she was there, that he was not alone. But it was too late. Barney was gone, and she had never had the chance to say a proper goodbye.
Another thought crossed her mind. The children! However was she to tell them this devastating news!
I
T WAS
8.15
A.M.
, the morning of 4 January 1955.
The streets of Liverpool were still fairly quiet, some shops were not yet open and only the keenest of shoppers had braved the bitter cold, to catch the early sales bargains.
Warm and cosy inside the offices of Bridget’s empire, Amy and Bridget had been up since the early hours. On a day when the offices were still closed and there
was no one to interrupt them, this was the perfect time for the two women to go through the books and prepare them for the accountant.
Having already been ensconced in the office for almost two hours, Bridget was ready for refreshment. Stretching and groaning, she leaned away from the desk. ‘I think we’ll down tools for a while, Amy me darling,’ she said now. ‘It’s been a long two hours, and
the old bones are threatening to seize up.’
Pushing the ledger away, she gave Amy one of her winning smiles. ‘I’m ready for a drink, so I am.’
‘I couldn’t agree more.’ Getting out of her chair, Amy began her way across the room. ‘Fancy a nice cup of tea?’
Bridget was horrified. ‘Have ye lost your mind? It’s not tea or coffee I’m needing. It’s a drop o’ the good stuff I’m after. It’s in the
top drawer of the filing cabinet, same as always. An’ don’t be sparing with it neither.’
When it came, Bridget took a tiny sip, then another longer one. ‘Ah sure, there’s nothing like a wee dram to warm the cockles,’ she said, smacking her lips. ‘Unless it’s a randy man with a trim body and no clothes on.’
Grinning like the Cheshire Cat, she went on to tell the bemused Amy, ‘Did I ever tell
you about the time me and Oliver found a quiet spot in the countryside? Well now, he got to feeling frisky, so we climbed into the back of his car … and ye know there’s not much room there at all.’
Amy couldn’t help but chuckle. ‘Honestly, when will you ever grow up? Don’t you think you’re too old to be rolling about in the back of a car?’
‘You’re right, and I won’t be doing it again, I can
promise ye that! Only the dear Lord knows how I ached from top to bottom for weeks after. But y’see, poor Oliver was so frustrated. He tried Gawd knows how many times to get his leg over, and well – you’ve never seen such a carry-on in all yer life! First off, he got his foot caught between the front seats, then he couldn’t get it out …’
She could hardly talk for laughing. ‘When I say that, I’m
not just referring to his foot, though that was the divil of a problem, so it was. No, I mean he couldn’t get his little pecker out neither, whichever way he turned.’
Amy tutted. ‘It’s a wonder you weren’t arrested.’
‘Ah, but that’s not all.’ Taking another healthy measure of her good Irish whiskey, Bridget got a fit of the giggles. ‘When we realised it was no use, we got out of the car and
laid on the grass. Within minutes we were fleeing for our lives, him with his trousers round his ankles, and me with me drawers in me hand.’
Amy could hardly contain her curiosity. ‘What happened? Did the police come along and find you?’
‘Oh no! It weren’t the police. We were just getting down to business, if ye know what I mean, when we must have disturbed a nest of wasps. Sure I never ran
so fast in all me life, and as for poor Oliver, he got bit twice on his dangly bits. Jaysus! They came after him like he was their next meal. And him screaming and shouting like a banshee. Never mind that I was falling behind and likely to be got any minute. As far as that bleddy coward was concerned, I could get stung to Hell and back!’
Amy almost fell off the chair laughing. ‘I always knew
you were mad as a hatter,’ she roared. ‘Whatever will you get up to next, I wonder?’
‘Well, I can tell ye one thing. Next time he feels amorous, he can bugger off.’
‘So, does that mean you’ve finished with him?’
‘Oh no! Sure, I never said that. But it’s the last time he manhandles me in the back seat of a car. And as for pulling up in the hedgerow and rollicking in the long grass, he can forget
it.’
She took another helping of her drink. ‘He can have his wicked way any time he wants, but I told him, I did. “I’m a lady with taste,” I said. “From now on, it’s a bed covered in silk sheets and a feather pillow under me, or it’s nothing at all”.’
‘And what did he say?’ Amy was enthralled.
‘He liked the idea. Especially when he couldn’t sit down for a week, seeing as his precious little
bits were all full o’ bumps and lumps.’
There was a flurry of laughter and more naughty talk, before the conversation ended and the two of them returned to their work.
Shortly after that, they had completed the accounts and having filed away the paperwork, began to pack up for the day.
‘Isn’t it tonight when Vicky arrives?’ Amy recalled Bridget telling her as much earlier on.
Bridget nodded.
‘Yes. She disembarked at Southampton last night, and will be in Salford by tea-time tonight.’ With the effects of drink beginning to wear off, her face reflected the seriousness of Lucy’s situation. ‘It’ll be a strange meeting, that’s for sure,’ she remarked thoughtfully. ‘There’s been a lot of water under the bridge since those two last met. Oh aye, they’ll have a lot to talk about, so they will.’
‘Do you think Vicky will be resentful?’
‘In what way?’
‘Because Lucy never told her about Barney?’
‘Oh sure, there’s bound to be resentment.’ Of that Bridget had no doubt. ‘According to what Lucy wrote me, on the night she discovered the letter to Leonard, Vicky walked out on him and she’s never been back since. Cleared off for two whole months, that’s what I’ve heard. But then she got in touch
with Lucy, and today is the day they finally meet after all these years.’
She shuddered. ‘I don’t mind telling ye, it’s thankful I am that it isn’t me who has to explain why I didn’t get in touch with Vicky long before now.’
Amy was torn two ways. ‘Do you really think Lucy should have broken her word to Barney?’
Thinking deeply, Bridget took a moment to answer. ‘For what it’s worth, I believe
Lucy did what she thought was right, for Barney’s sake, and for the sake of the family. I mean, look now at the heartache and trouble that’s been caused by the telling after all these years. Vicky’s life seemingly in tatters, and Lucy riddled with guilt at having sent the letter. It’s a tragedy, isn’t it?’
Amy agreed wholeheartedly. ‘I for one wouldn’t want to be in Lucy’s shoes when she meets
up with Vicky.’
Bridget was momentarily preoccupied in thinking of Barney’s children. ‘Isn’t it strange how Vicky never even mentioned the children when she contacted Lucy? She wrote of how she and Leonard had split up, but there wasn’t one word on the three children.’
Amy’s heart went out to Thomas, Ronnie and Susie. ‘I know what it’s like to see your family torn apart,’ she said. ‘It’s a terrible
thing – and those three had the added agony of being sent away believing their father was a drunk and a womaniser, a bully who thought nothing of hurting them every which way he could. And now, they discover that he was nothing of the sort, and that he loved them all along.’
‘Whatever did they think when they learned how desperately ill he was?’ Bridget mused. ‘And that what he did, he did for
the love of each and every one of them. He saved them from the pain and anguish of seeing him deteriorate with every passing day. Moreover, he secured them a decent future. If that isn’t love and courage of a very special kind, I’m sure I don’t know what is.’
They each reflected on that, and after a time they shut up shop and went their separate ways. ‘And don’t get up to any hanky-panky!’ Amy
quipped as she went.
‘Away with ye,’ Bridget replied haughtily. ‘Why would I ever want to be doing that? Sure, I’m a woman in the sunset of me life, so I am.’
Amy laughed. ‘Sunset nothing! You might have been around a long time, but you’ve not lost the come-on twinkle in the eye yet. Sixty going on sixteen, that’s you.’
Bridget prided herself on keeping active and fit. ‘You know what the secret
is, don’t you?’ she said cagily.
‘No, what’s that?’
‘When the hair goes grey and your face is so dry and wrinkled it resembles the sole of your shoe, you dip your hair in dye, pile on the make-up and go out and get your man. If ye think old and done with, you’ll
be
old and done with. If ye think young and randy, you can hold off the years for as long as you like, and bugger them as thinks you’re
mutton dressed as lamb.’
As she got into the car she had another piece of advice for Amy. ‘There’s something else ye should know.’
‘Oh yes, and what’s that?’
‘If you turn up late in the morning, you’ll be sacked.’
With that daunting piece of news, she drove away, leaving Amy shaking her head. ‘You should be locked up,’ she muttered with a smile. ‘A woman your age should be at home with her
feet up and a shawl over her legs, but oh no, not our Bridget, she’s got more important things to do. You defy old age, you scheme and fight and lie through your teeth to get what you want, and you show no mercy to anyone who tries to muscle in on your territory. The truth is, if you weren’t running a legitimate business, you’d make a first-class villain.’
As she walked away, Amy thought to herself,
I’ve a good mind to turn up late, just to see if you really would sack me. You’re a bully and a slave-driver, and you make me tired, just watching you run around.
Bridget was like no one she had ever known. But, warts and all, she would not have her any other way.
At that moment some short distance down the street, Bridget was engaged in a heated exchange with the milkman. Having pulled up in
front of her at the junction, his horse had taken the opportunity to dump a load of manure all over the road in front of her; in the process splashing the bonnet of her Hillman Minx. ‘You filthy heathen!’ Shaking her fist at the man, she told him in no uncertain terms, ‘Look what your damned horse has done to me car. You should be put away, you and the horse along with ye!’
When the milkman took
not the slightest notice, she roared off, making a most unladylike gesture as she went.
‘Time was when old women stayed at home and waited on their menfolk!’ shouted the milkman. ‘But I don’t imagine there’s a fella this side of Australia that would take on a harridan like you!’
After making another rude gesture, Bridget wisely put a fair distance between herself and the milkman. She didn’t
want to cause too many upsets, especially with a policeman strolling nearby, and even more especially when she had never applied for a driving licence, nor ever had one granted.
Coming into the quieter part of town, her thoughts soon turned to Lucy, and the ordeal she was about to face. ‘God bless you, Lucy girl,’ she murmured. ‘I hope it all goes well with you and Vicky.’ Like Amy, she did not
envy Lucy the task ahead of her.
Adam had been awake since the early hours.
Concerned about the arrival this evening of the woman he still looked on as Barney’s wife, he decided to go across to Knudsden House and make sure Lucy was all right.
From the front window, Lucy saw him coming. She too had been awake since the early hours. ‘Only a few hours to go,’ she told him as he walked in the door.
‘To tell you the truth, Adam, in my entire life I’ve never been so nervous.’
Occasionally stopping to glance at the mantel-clock, she paced up and down, back and forth, now pausing at the window and looking out on the bitter-cold January morning. ‘I’m not sure if I’ve done the right thing. What if I’ve ruined all their lives?’
‘You can’t turn back the clock now, Lucy my dear, so don’t torment
yourself.’ Adam had the same worries, but he did not want to convey that to Lucy. Instead he was doing his best to encourage her, because right now she was beginning to make herself ill.
‘I can’t help worrying,’ Lucy argued. ‘I’ve already caused a split between Vicky and Leonard. She said in her letter that I shouldn’t blame myself, but if I’m not to blame, who is? After all, it was me who put
the cat among the pigeons so to speak.’
‘Look, Lucy, what you did was certainly not done out of malice. It was done out of concern: you thought they had a right to know. Well, I agree with that and so, it seems, does Vicky.’
Lucy was still not convinced. ‘It might have been better though, if I had left well alone.’
‘Ah, but in the end, my dear, the truth has a way of sneaking out. Who’s to
say Vicky or her children would never return home at some time in the future, even for a visit. They would find out then, wouldn’t they? There can’t be a single person in Liverpool who hasn’t learned the sad story of Barney Davidson, and they would tell it to anyone, neighbour or stranger. No, Lucy, you did right. What happened between Vicky and Leonard is something aside, which only the two of them
can sort out.’
