The Journey (21 page)

Lucy shook her head. “No, he’s not back—at least not that I know of.” She gave a wry little smile, her heart sinking at the memory. “After the cowardly way he ran, I shouldn’t think he’ll ever show his face round here again.”

“So what are you afraid of?”

In a small voice she told him, “It might sound silly to you, Barney, but I feel I’m
too
happy, and I’m afraid because something is bound to go wrong, I just know it is.”

“Aw, Lucy girl! Come here to me.” Taking her in his arms, he held her close. “Nothing will go wrong. I won’t let it—
Joanne
won’t let it. The worst is over for you now. We’ve got you safe with us.” He held her at arm’s length. “Promise me, Lucy, that whenever you’re feeling worried you’ll talk to me or Joanne. Promise me you won’t ever be afraid to share what’s on your mind.”

Her heart full, Lucy slowly nodded her head.

“That’s my girl.” He rumpled her hair, and let her go.

A few minutes later, at Barney’s suggestion, she left the child with him and made her way to the river. Here, she dropped to her knees and washed her grubby neck and face. Her fingernails were grimed with mud; she’d deal with them later.

She was shaking the river-drops from her hands when she heard a noise some way further along the river. She turned her head and there, where the weir rushed down and tumbled amongst the larger boulders, she saw Thomas and Ronnie clamber out of the water, their muscular well-toned bodies magnificently naked.

Until that moment, she had seen them as merely Barney and Joanne’s two young sons: Thomas, serious and deep-thinking, and Ronnie a bit crazy—a daredevil ready to have a go at anything.

Now she saw them as men in their own right, and it came as a bit of a shock to her senses.

Climbing to where they had laid their clothes, Tom and Ronnie took up their shirts and began drying themselves while, blushing to the roots of her hair, Lucy took flight and did not stop running until she was back to base.

It was the very first time she had ever seen a man stripped off; even when Frankie Trent had made love to her, it was a case of undoing his trouser-buttons and lifting her skirt. A virgin when she had met him at the age of twenty-seven, in many ways Lucy was still sexually inexperienced. She had only known brief couplings with Frankie, which had heated her blood and brought her a child, but the richness and depth of married physical love was unknown territory.

She knew now that what she had experienced was not lovemaking in the way it should have been; it was pure lust and nothing more, and she felt ashamed at having thought it was ever anything else.

As she neared her son, still sleeping in his pram, she was amazed to find that there was no sign of Barney. She stood a moment, eyes scouring the area. That was strange. She hadn’t thought that Barney would ever go off and leave Jamie on his own.

Suddenly she could hear him, or at least she could hear something, because the harsh, rasping sounds were not human. They were more like the cries of some unfortunate animal caught in a trap.

Leaving Jamie, she cautiously followed the sounds, and there, doubled up against the side of the tractor, was Barney. Obviously in pain and fighting for breath, he looked a frightful sight. Lucy ran to him. “Barney—what in God’s name is wrong?”

Breathless and exhausted, he couldn’t speak, but when he looked her in the eye, she saw the anguish there and her heart turned somersaults. “Don’t … tell … Joanne,” he gasped.

Lucy gave no answer. Instead she held him until he was fully recovered, at which point he repeated his plea. “Lucy … you mustn’t tell Joanne about this. She’ll only worry, and it’s unnecessary.”

Lucy wasn’t too sure about that. “But you’re ill!” she told him gently. “You couldn’t breathe—could hardly stand up on your own two feet!” Seeing him like that had given her a scare. “You’re wrong, Barney,” she told him. “Joanne
should
know about this.” When she saw the look of panic on his face, she assured him, “All right, I won’t tell her. But you must.”

“There’s no need!” Barney was recovering his strength now. “I’m not ill. It’s something to do with handling the tubers. They don’t agree with me. Summat about them gets in and clogs up my lungs, hampers my breathing and makes me feel bad. It comes on quickly and goes away the same. Like I say, there’s nothing to worry about. Right now lass, let’s get back to yon bairn. I’m sorry I left him, pet—didn’t want to wake him, see?”

“All right, Barney, if you’re sure.” She could see how agitated he had got when he believed she might tell the family.

“Look at me, Lucy.” Raising his arms, Barney let his hands fall to her shoulders, his smile quick and confident. “You can see for yourself, I’m right as rain now. It was a coughing fit, that’s all it was. I won’t have Joanne or anyone else worrying about something and nothing.”

Lucy didn’t argue. In fact, she was amazed at how quickly he had recovered. One minute he had looked so ill, she feared for his life, and the next he seemed fine. “You’re sure you’re all right?”

He nodded. “Like I said, right as rain.”

Believing she might have over-reacted, Lucy took him at his word. Besides, though his color wasn’t fully returned, he did seem fine now.

Barney called her attention to the three approaching figures; the two sons in front, obviously not aware that their mother was some distance behind. “Remember,” he urged. “Not a word.”

While they were looking across the field, they saw the figure of a man standing beneath the dipping boughs of a tree. “It’s the boss, come to keep an eye on us,” Barney said jokingly.

So, while Leonard Maitland watched the family, Barney and Lucy watched him. “What the devil’s he up to?” Like Lucy, Barney was intrigued.

“I expect he’s been out for a long walk and is taking a rest in the shade,” she answered.

Barney laughed. “He may well be,” he remarked, adding tongue-in-cheek, “He’s also taking a long, leisurely look at my woman.” Thrusting his hands into his pockets he seemed a proud man. “I should’ve told him,” he said casually.

“Told him what?” It had not occurred to Lucy that Leonard Maitland was watching Joanne in particular, but now she could see that while he rested from the heat, Leonard Maitland did in fact seem more preoccupied with Joanne who, unaware of his interest, walked on, the plates cradled in her arms and with eyes only for Barney.

Like the cat that got the cream, Barney wore a smile from ear to ear. “I should have warned him,” he said. “Every man that’s ever clapped eyes on my Joanne has fallen head over heels in love with her.” His eyes shone with joy as he watched her drawing nearer. “And all she ever wanted were
me
… a farmworker who owns nothing and never will.”

His eyes widened with a rush of astonishment. “What she ever saw in me, I’ll never know.” His voice dropping to a whisper, he spoke as though to himself. “I just thank the Lord for bringing the two of us together.”

As always, whenever she witnessed the love between these two people, Lucy was humbled. She saw the adoration in Barney’s eyes and the joy in Joanne’s face as she waved to him.

Joanne may have been aware of Leonard Maitland or she may not. But it was Barney she was looking at.
Barney,
her man, her everything. She was one side of the coin; he was the other.

“Look! He’s going now.” Lucy brought his attention to Leonard Maitland’s retreating figure.

Barney made no comment just then, but he noticed how Leonard Maitland continually glanced back at Joanne. And who could blame him, Barney thought as he brought his own tender gaze to the kind, caring woman he adored.

Joanne always looked lovely, he thought, but today she was especially beautiful with the breeze playing round the hem of her skirt, lifting it and twirling it, her golden hair blown gently back from her happy face, oh and that smile. Even now after all these years, he could hardly believe that Joanne was his wife. From the moment he had first seen her, he wanted no other. And he never would, for the kind of love they shared came only once in a lifetime.

Shortly afterward, Barney’s mate Arthur arrived. “I’ve finished thatching Widow Mason’s porch,” he told Barney, “so I wondered if you might have use for another pair of hands?”

Barney thanked him. “The more the merrier, matey,” he said, and his pal threw off his jacket and got to work.

Tired and sweating under the hot sun, Lucy soon forgot Leonard Maitland and his seeming infatuation with Joanne. Barney, however, for good reason kept it quietly at the back of his mind.

Leonard Maitland needed a drink.

Having hurried home, tired and hot, he had rushed in, closed the door to shut out the world, and was now helping himself to a small whisky. “God knows what they must have thought!” he muttered, gulping down the drink. “Me standing there, gawping at another man’s wife like some lovesick fool!”

Deep in thought, he wandered across the room, images of Joanne filling his mind: running, tripping, laughing, she was the essence of womanhood. Yet he had other, more urgent things to think about. A few days ago, he had received a letter from America, to do with his late grandfather’s estate in Boston, Massachusetts. It seemed he might have to fight to retain the old man’s house and lands. Things were happening which could send it either way. If it went one particular way, it could mean him selling up in this country and making a new life over there. Leonard had spent months at a time in his youth with his maternal grandfather, Farley Kemp, on the thousand-acre farm. He loved it out there—although his English heritage meant that he loved it here, too, east of the Mersey.

He considered for a moment. If he went to America, would he take Patricia with him? And what of Barney and his family … and Joanne? Leonard might be well-off financially, but he didn’t have endless funds. The last thing he wanted to do was put Barney out of work, but he might not be able to avoid it.

If he had to, he’d fight tooth and nail to keep it all together. But there were things happening out there which could mean he had little choice. If it went one particular way, it could mean his having to sell up in England and make a new life in Boston, America.

He considered the prospect for a moment. He would almost welcome the challenge. It could mean he could keep his grandfather’s beautiful house and vast estates. He had worked his way up from a farm-laborer to create one of the most successful businesses in Boston. Besides that, it was a wonderful home, warm and welcoming, filled with happiness and contentment, the kind of which he’d never really known.

The memories still came flooding back. When he was a child, the highlight of his year was going to see his grandparents. Those amazing weeks when he was there were the happiest of his life. His grandfather would take him across the estate; sometimes on the back of his horse and later Leonard would ride alongside him on a pony, and oh, what adventures they’d get up to … racing each other across the headlands; climbing trees or riding to the top of a hill, so his grandfather could show him the house and lands from a distance, and even then they could never see the horizons of what belonged to him … lands that were loved and tended, houses and homesteads nestling in the valleys, and cattle by the hundreds; all this, all painstakingly, lovingly forged out of nothing, with only the strength of his own two hands and the heart of a lion.

He closed his eyes, his emotions in turmoil. “When his grandfather lost grandmother, he lost all sense of purpose, and now everything he worked so hard for was at risk.

Going to the armchair, Leonard sat down and gazed into space for what seemed an age. He gathered his thoughts and knew what he must do. “He wouldn’t let it be lost. He couldn’t let them take it. He didn’t have so much here to fight for, but he could try and save his grandfather’s dream, and given the chance, that’s what he’d do!” Getting out of the chair, he smiled, at ease with himself, “I think it’s time I had a new life, a new direction. There is little to hold me here. I’ve gone as far as I can go, and now it’s time to face up to a new challenge.”

Dipping into his pocket, he took out a long, official-looking envelope with an American stamp. Unfolding the letter he began to read:

Dear Mr. Maitland,

I am pleased to inform you that certain matters relating to the estate of your grandfather, the late Mr. Farley Kemp, are now settled. However, several important issues remain which demand your urgent attention. As you are the only surviving relative of the deceased, it is imperative that you contact me as soon as possible, with a view to visiting these offices, in order that these issues can be dealt with.

As you must be aware, time is of the essence, and the situation requires that you be here in person.

I look forward to hearing from you at your earliest opportunity.

Yours sincerely,

Justin Lovatt, Attorney-at-Law

Leonard knew the letter word for word, for hadn’t he read it umpteen times since receiving it? Tomorrow, he must make arrangements to travel.

“What’s that you’re reading?” Patricia’s voice shocked him, invading his thoughts.

“Pat! Good God—I didn’t hear you come in.” He swiftly folded the letter and slid it into his pocket. He hadn’t heard the taxi pull up in the driveway.

Crossing the room, she slid her arm through his. “Is it something I should know about, darling?”