Live the Dream (34 page)

'It's all right,' he coaxed. 'Everything's going to be all right.'

But he knew it wasn't.

Amy was busy unpacking a delivery of soap and putting it on the shelves when Luke walked into Atkinsons' Corner Shop one Friday morning in early January. The shop was busy with people stocking up on groceries for the weekend, and heads turned to examine the smartly dressed stranger in a big black overcoat and a felt hat. One or two necks were craned to assess the shiny motor car parked outside the shop too.

Amy scrambled to her feet, flushing and looking confused.

'Good morning, Miss Atkinson,' Luke said, fixing her with a confident smile. I wonder if I might have a word with you about a friend of yours and acquaintance of mine—Daisy?'

'Of course,' answered Amy. She glanced at Marie, who, with Maureen—now helping in the shop at busy times, the tea trolley job missed only by Johnny—was efficiently getting through the queue of customers.

Marie nodded towards the living room behind the shop. 'Take the gentleman through, if you like, Amy,' she suggested. She would never show her own curiosity in front of the customers, particularly old Alice, whose eyes were bulging with the need to know what was afoot.

Amy showed Luke through, quietly closed the door behind them and turned to him with a mixture of both pleasure and anger at seeing him.

'What are you doing here?' she whispered fiercely, mindful of the thin wall.

'I told you, Amy, I've come to find out how Daisy is.'

Amy was immediately contrite. 'She's not well, I'm afraid,' she said. 'She's getting better, but slowly.'

'Will she be…scarred for life? I hear her injuries are awful.'

'Some won't heal entirely, some will. But she's so down. It's her mind tormenting her about her physical injuries that is making her so much worse.'

There was a long pause. 'I understand,' Luke said quietly. 'The mind can be so fragile.'

Before she knew it Amy had reached out and squeezed his hand in silent sympathy. He imprisoned her hand with both of his and brought it to his lips. 'Dear Amy-'

'No, Luke,' she interrupted, pulling her hand gently away. 'I meant what I said last time. It can never be—you know that.'

Luke sensed that Amy could never be his. He had to accept that, and he did. 'All right, Amy—but we can be friends, can't we?'

Amy visibly relaxed. 'Of course we can.'

And so they discussed Daisy's injuries and Luke looked grave, especially when he learned he wouldn't even be allowed to visit her in the infirmary just yet. He promised to come by again to enquire after her progress.

'Won't you have a cup of tea before you go?' asked Amy as Luke gathered himself to leave.

'No, thank you,' he said. 'Better not.'

'I'm sorry about your factory burning down,' she said as they both moved towards the door.

'Thank you. Yes, I can hardly say fortune's smiling just now,' he shrugged, trying for nonchalance. 'Main thing is that Daisy gets better. I can always build another factory, but there's only one Daisy.'

'Too right!' agreed Amy. What a good man he was. 'Thank you for coming to ask about her. I'll tell her you did, when she's well enough to take it in.'

'Thanks.'

They stood awkwardly facing each other, unsure how to part. Suddenly Luke leaned over and planted a swift kiss on Amy's hair.

'Goodbye, Amy,' he said, and was through the door before she could reply.

When Marie came to look for Amy a few minutes later she found her looking suspiciously red-eyed.

'Don't worry, love. Daisy will get better,' she comforted, hugging Amy to her. But she had a feeling it wasn't just Daisy Amy had been crying about.

'Give her my love, won't yer, lass?' Like everyone who knew Daisy, Marie had been devastated by what had happened to her. 'Tell her we're all thinking of her.' Handing Amy the small posy of hot-house roses, she gave a deep sigh. 'God only knows, that poor lass needs all the support we can give her.' Marie said something like this every day, for her daughter was a daily visitor to Daisy's bedside.

Amy nodded. She didn't say anything. What could anybody say in a situation like this?

'Now you just mind how you go, lass, and don't worry about me and Maureen. We'll manage all right.'

'That's right, love.' These past weeks, while Amy had dedicated herself to keeping Daisy's spirits up, Maureen had taken on more and more in the shop, and was now as much Marie's right-hand woman as Amy.

Amy thanked them both. She glanced at little Johnny, who was playing with his toy train on the floor. 'See you later, Johnny.' When he ran to her, she gave him a hug. 'Be a good boy while I'm gone.' And sensing the seriousness of the moment, the boy clung to her a while longer than was necessary.

A moment later, armed with flowers and other small gifts, she set off to see Daisy.

Amy was deeply troubled. Walking down the street she wondered how Daisy would be today.

Some short time later, seated on the tram, she tormented herself with what had happened just a few short weeks ago: Roy and Daisy trapped in a burning inferno; the terrible shock when the news came through, and that first time when she and Jack had gone to see Daisy at the infirmary.

There was never a conscious minute, when the evening of the fire didn't play on her mind. And with it came the guilt.

That night, she and Jack should never have let Roy and Daisy run off on their own—but then they were not children; they were grown-ups with minds of their own. And what if the two of them had not gone into that factory? What if old Tooley had not sacked Daisy? Then there would have been no need to ask Jack if he could get her a job, and Roy would not have taken her into the factory to show her the kind of work she might be doing.

The most haunting question of all was who had set fire to the factory and why? Did they mean to hurt Roy and Daisy? Or was it a way of getting at Luke Hammond?

All the ifs and buts, and the reasons why, would not go away, and Amy wondered if they ever would.

The tram pulled into her stop and Amy disembarked for the infirmary. As she walked through the main doors, it seemed some kind of fracas was going on.

'I've told you time and again, I can not allow you into the ward!' The matron was a formidable lady of some strength and size who, along with the two porters who had been summoned to her aid, was easily equal to the two louts whose way she was blocking. 'My first duty is to the patient, and I'd like you to leave at once.'

'Get outta me sodding way!' The scruffy burly fella hanging on to his wife's arm was so inebriated he could hardly stand. 'Yer can't bloody well stop us from seeing our own daughter!'

'That's right!' Screeching and yelling, his dishevelled wife lashed out wildly. 'So you'd best piss off out of it, the lot of you; or we'll 'ave the police on yer!'

There was a fierce scuffle and the exchange of a few harsh words, but in the end the pair were marched off the premises.

'And don't come back until you've sobered up!' Matron's voice followed them along the street.

In the frantic moment when they were manhandled past Amy, she recognised them as Daisy's parents. Wisely lowering her head, she quickened her steps to the receptionist's desk.

The kindly receptionist greeted her with a smile. 'Good morning, Amy, and how are you?'

Having seen Amy regularly since Daisy had been transferred to the ward from the burns unit, she had come to know her well.—Her condemning stare went to the outer door. 'I expect you already know Daisy's parents, do you?'

Amy nodded. 'Though not very well.'

'Dreadful pair. They tried to barge their way in just now—drunk and violent, the both of them.' With a burst of pride, she squared her little pigeon chest. 'Matron threw them out.'

Amy gave an embarrassed smile. 'I know,' she said sheepishly, 'and I hope nobody intends telling Daisy because, I can tell you, she wouldn't be too pleased about them turning up in that state.'

'Don't you worry,' the receptionist answered. 'I'm sure none of us would want to add to Daisy's burden by telling her. Anyway, the nurse has just been down,' she told Amy. 'Apparently, Daisy's had her wash, nibbled at her breakfast and now she's got her eyes glued to the door watching out for you.'

Just then a small, round-faced woman in her mid-forties approached Amy with the long, confident stride of a navvy. 'Oh, Amy! I'm so glad you've arrived.' The nurse, Rita, was a friendly little thing, who had formed a warm relationship with Daisy, far beyond the call of duty. 'I've just been talking with her,' she told Amy. 'I hope you can cheer her, because I can't seem to.'

'I'll do my best.'

'I know you will.' Nurse Rita explained. 'She's so unhappy. She cried half the night, so I'm told, and today she's like somebody being made ready for the gallows.'

Amy was concerned. 'What's brought all this on? She was doing all right yesterday.'

'I'm told she had words with her boyfriend. In fact by all accounts, she sent him packing.' Gesturing towards the corridor, the nurse urged, 'You go along, dear. I know she's been waiting for you.'

As Amy began to walk away, the nurse noticed that Amy had gone ahead with a posy of flowers. 'I'm sorry, dear,' she called her back. 'You still can't take flowers in…risk of infection and all that.'

Accepting the flowers, she handed them to the receptionist, who promised,I'll put them aside until I've finished what I'm doing, then I'll put them in a vase. I'm sure they'll give pleasure to everyone who passes by.'

Amy merely nodded before, with Nurse Rita, she made her way towards the long corridor that would take her to the ward. Rita told Amy that Daisy was doing really well as far as her injuries were concerned. 'In fact, it wouldn't surprise me if the doctor allowed her home by the end of next week. Mind you, on the emotional and mental side of it, she's still got a long way to go.'

'Once we get her home, she'll soon be on the mend.' Amy tried to sound hopeful.

'She'll be coming home with you, will she?'

'That's the plan. We've taken on extra help in the shop so I can spend most of my time with Daisy. That way, hopefully she'll soon regain her confidence.'

'Well, I hope you can stop her from sliding into a deep depression,' the nurse remarked with a frown. 'I've seen it happen so many times before—the patient's physical wounds mend, but the mental scars don't heal so quickly.'

Lowering her voice, she admitted, I know it isn't very professional, but I've spent many an hour talking with Daisy—on and off duty—and I've come to know and like her well. What I'm trying to say is this: I'm so glad she has you to fall back on. Now tell her I'll be along later,' she said, 'though I'll expect her to be fast asleep by that time.'

With her heart in her boots, Amy wondered what could have caused Daisy to 'have words' with Roy. Probably something and nothing, she thought. Besides, Daisy had been through so much, she could be forgiven for being touchy now and then.

At the door of the ward, Amy was told by the duty sister, 'Daisy is very low, I'm afraid. See if you can put a smile on her face.'

'I'll do what I can.'

The sister smiled her approval. 'You're the best medicine she could have,' and with a friendly wave of the hand she excused herself. 'I must away and tend to other duties.'

Left alone, Amy peered through the window to where Daisy was seemingly sleeping. 'Chin up, sweetheart,' she muttered. 'God willing, we'll soon have you out of here.'

Her heart was heavy as she went inside, but she would never betray that to Daisy, not for one minute.

As she approached the bed she saw that Daisy was in a deep slumber. Her eyes were tightly closed and now, as Amy came nearer, Daisy's arm went instinctively to her neck, and pushed away the blanket.

Quietly seating herself in the chair beside the bed, Amy's gaze roved over that familiar, beloved face, and her heart was sore.

Daisy had been hurt badly that night—first from the impact of the wooden crates as they fell on top of her, and then by the scorching heat and smoke as the flames licked all around. But thankfully, the fine scars on her face were now beginning to fade. The damage done to her lungs by the smoke had slowly repaired. Her hair, which had been shorn in order for the doctor to stitch the many smaller wounds, had grown back so that it was like a short, well-fitting cap over her head.

The worst wound, and by far the greatest cause of Daisy's anguish, was the wide, meandering scar that ran from her right ear down her neck and over the swell of her breast.

This was where the sharp, iron-clad corner of that first falling crate had torn a deep, jagged path through her flesh, leaving an unsightly wound that had later become badly infected, and subsequently taken a long time to heal.

The doctors had already informed Daisy that although it would fade in time, the scar would be a permanent one.

More times than she could recall, Amy had sat and watched Daisy while she slept, and each time, she had quietly cried.

She cried now. But the minute she saw Daisy stirring, she wiped away the tears. By the time Daisy opened her eyes, Amy's smile was brighter than a summer's day.

'Look at you!' she tutted light-heartedly. 'Lying in bed while some of us are flogging ourselves to death at work.'

'Amy!' As always, Daisy was filled with joy at seeing Amy's bright, familiar smile. 'I'm sorry, at first I thought it were Nurse Rita sitting there. Oh, Amy! I'm so glad you're 'ere.'

Daisy had news she could hardly wait to tell. 'Guess who came to see me after you'd gone yesterday?' And before Amy could answer, she went on excitedly, 'It were none other than Luke Hammond! I thought I were imagining things when I saw who it was—the Tuesday man from Tooley's! I kept thinking it were a dream or summat, but it really was him. Who'd have thought a posh fella like Luke Hammond would have been going to old Ma Tooley's cafe all this time and we never knew? And who'd ever imagine he would come to see me here? He were right kind. He brought flowers, but the nurse took them away, an' he said as how he were deeply sorry for what happened, and that I wasn't to worry about a thing. Whatever I needed, I was to let him know…but I told him I don't need nothing, 'cos you see to all that.'