The Journey (31 page)

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Authors: Josephine Cox

BOOK: The Journey
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Grabbing the hat from the table, Lucy plopped it on Barney’s head. “It suits you,” she laughed. “You should wear it when you’re bringing in the sheep.”

“Why don’t I wear it to the celebrations?” he suggested cheerfully.

“Great idea!” Smiling, she turned to Lucy. “I’m glad you decided to have the child christened the day
before
his second birthday.” Having both celebrations on the same day would have been too much.

Lucy was looking forward to it all. “There you are, Barney,” she cried. “Two parties in one. You’ll never have a better excuse to wear that hat.”

Barney took it off and placed it on the pile. “Look at this!” Certain articles had slid to the floor and there wasn’t a single spare inch on the table. “It looks like a rag-shop in here,” he said jokingly. He picked up a pair of trousers some two sizes too big for him now. “I hope you’re not expecting me to wear these an’ all,” he said, making a face.

“I might, if you don’t stop complaining,” Joanne answered with a click of the tongue.

Seeing the garments and artifacts piled high on the table was like the remnants of their lives together, and it shook him deeply. “Why you felt the need to clear out wardrobes and such just yet, I’ll never know,” he declared. “The ship doesn’t sail until the sixth of November … that’s still well over two weeks away.” If things had been different he might have been helping but now, it was too frightening how fast the days were rushing by.

“That’s not long,” Joanne argued. “Not when I need to sort every drawer and cupboard, throw some stuff away, give some to the church for the needy, and get the rest washed and ironed to come with us. It can’t all be done in five minutes.”

“Joanne’s right.” Lucy had been helping all morning and still they had hardly started. “Then there’s the whole house to be gone over—floors so well-scrubbed you could eat your bacon and eggs off them, cupboards washed and lined with fresh newspaper, and every window-pane polished to a brilliant shine …”

“And that’s only the
inside!
” Joanne was beginning to panic. “You men haven’t got a clue, have you?”

“I’ve got a thirst though.” Barney made his way to the kettle. “I expect you could both do with a cuppa?”

“You two sit yourselves down.” Bringing him back, Lucy sat him in the chair. “I’ll mash the tea.”

Tired and weary, Barney didn’t argue. “I wouldn’t mind a piece o’ that fruit-cake, if there’s any left?”

There was, and when Lucy brought it in along with the tea, Barney wolfed it down. “By!” He washed it down with a gulp of hot tea. “I reckon my girl is the best cook in the whole world,” he said, smacking Joanne’s bottom as she walked by.

“Enough o’ that, Barney Davidson,” she reprimanded. But there was a twinkle in her eye, and the twitch of a smile on her lips as she turned away.

“I wouldn’t mind another piece o’ cake if you’re going to the kitchen?” he called out hopefully.

“I am going to the kitchen,” she called back, “but it’s no cake for you.”

“Aw—why’s that?”

“’Cause your dinner will soon be on the table, that’s why.”

For the next few moments while Joanne was clattering about in the kitchen, Barney and Lucy sat together as they often did, talking and planning and wondering what the future held.

“I’ll really miss you, Barney,” Lucy told him shyly. “I know I shouldn’t say it, not when you’re all so excited and looking forward to it, but sometimes I wish Mr. Maitland had never asked you.” She was instantly mortified. “Oh, that’s a terrible thing to say! I’m sorry, Barney, really I am.” She almost hero-worshipped this man, and didn’t want him to think badly of her.

Instead, he said kindly, “I wish you were coming too, you and young Jamie. You’re part of the family now. As you know, I even asked Mr. Maitland if there might be a place for you, but he’s already altered the contract of sale on our account.”

Lucy understood. “He’s done a generous thing in leaving me secure with a job and a home. You’re not to concern yourself about me,” she said. “I’ll be fine. I’ve got Bridget, and I’ve got little Jamie, and to tell you the truth, I’ve never been happier—though it will take some getting used to, not having you Davidsons just up the road.”

Reaching forward, she slid her hands over his. “I’m really glad for you, Barney … all of you. It’s wonderful what’s happening!” She allowed herself a little daydream. “I don’t know anybody who’s gone to start a new life in America.” Feeling the warmth of his hands through hers, she drew away.

It was strange, the way she sometimes felt a thrill when he looked at her; and unforgivable, how she had come to think of Barney as more than a friend.

Just then, Barney felt the pain beginning in his chest. When he tried to take a deep breath it sounded like a strangled cough, and now the pain was spreading, like two mighty hands squeezing the life from him. Bending forward, he got out of the chair, his face drained and his mouth half-open as though he was having difficulty breathing.

“My God, what’s wrong?” Lucy was quickly on her feet and helping him. She would have shouted for Joanne, but Barney gave her a warning glance.

As quickly as he could before Joanne came back into the room, he brushed past Lucy and stumbled outside. Frightened by what she had witnessed, Lucy ran after him; thankfully, Joanne neither heard nor saw them as they went out through the front door.

Lucy found Barney in the wood-shed; leaning over the pile of stripped saplings, he was still gasping for breath, but seemed to be recovering by the minute. “I’m sorry, lass.” He afforded her a smile as she came rushing in. “It were a raisin or summat out o’ the fruit-cake. Went down the wrong way, I reckon.”

“Don’t lie to me, Barney,” she warned him. “I’ve seen you like this before. You’re ill, aren’t you? Tell me, Barney … what’s wrong? What’s happening to you?” Fear struck at her heart. She could just about cope with the idea of him going to America, but if anything bad should happen to him … no! The prospect was unthinkable.

“It’s summat and nowt,” he wheezed, trying to sound casual. “It’s just an upset. It comes and goes.” Another spasm gripped him and he gasped.

“Have you seen the doctor?”

“I have, yes. And if you don’t believe me, ask Arthur Chives.” A thought occurred to him; he must remember to warn his pal not to let Lucy know the truth. “You mustn’t mention any of this to Joanne,” he wheezed. “She’s got enough on her plate at the minute, without worrying about me.”

Lucy came closer. “You’re not lying to me, are you?”

Barney appeared shocked. “Good God, woman! Why would I do that, eh?” He stretched his arms out either side, inviting her to, “Look at me, Lucy. I’m fit and strong, and like I said, it were summat and nowt.” Taking her by the arm he turned her round and walked her back to the house. “Any minute now there’ll be a houseful. Happen you’d best give Joanne a helping hand with the dinner, eh?”

Over dinner, Lucy watched Barney closely; he laughed and chatted and played with young Jamie and she began to wonder whether she’d imagined it all. In the end she gave up the worrying and joined in the excited chatter about the forthcoming adventure.

“I mean to be a millionaire before I’m thirty,” Thomas declared.

“Not before me,” Susie butted in. “Miss Dandy showed me a map. She thinks I could have at least ten shops in Boston, before I start on New York.”

“Lucy, will you dance with me at the party?” Ronnie asked. “I’ve been let down and now I’ve nobody to partner me.”

“Well, thank you, I’d be honored, sir.” Lucy laughed. She was thrilled. It was a long time since anyone had whisked her round the dance-floor. She thought of Frank Trent with a familiar flash of anger. All along she had loved him, and all along he had told her how much he loved her back. Like a fool she had believed him, and he let her down badly.

Now, though, because of what he had done when she lay injured, she could walk by him in the street and not even turn a hair. Gently, unconsciously, she fingered the scar by her hairline where she had smashed her head against a rock.

“That reminds me!” Barney had completely forgotten. “First thing tomorrow, I need the pair of you lads to help me set out that wooden floor in the barn. It hasn’t been used since me and your mam had our twentieth wedding anniversary. With all the invites that have gone out, I’ve an idea we might need to make a couple or more extra squares.”

The excitement mounted. “Christenings, birthdays and sailing off to a new land … whatever next!” Joanne raised her wine-glass for the umpteenth time. “To the future!” And everyone drank heartily.

Everyone except Barney, who touched the wine against his lips and pretended to drink; Lucy, who saw him do it, wondered if he was hiding something after all.

In that worrying moment he glanced up and smiled at her; and the smile was so beautiful and easy, it took her breath away. She smiled back and raised her glass. “All right, Barney?” She mouthed the words. He nodded, raised his glass and took a sip. Soon he was laughing, and all seemed well.

The christening went even better than planned.

The sun came out to brighten the day and the service was simple, yet awe-inspiring. Even when the sacred water was poured over his forehead, Jamie did not flinch. He seemed to enjoy the whole thing.

Barney picked him up and held him; Bridget and Arthur swore to be godparents, and the child was blessed.

“Now, how d’you feel about it?” Barney asked afterward, and Lucy told him she felt it had been the right thing to do.

Joanne said he was now a child of God, and they drank to his future.

Then, in all the excitement, Jamie wet his pants. Lucy changed him and he promptly fell asleep, exhausted from being the center of attention, while family and friends held a simple little lunch. “We’ve still got the birthday party tomorrow to look forward to,” Ronnie said, and Susie ran upstairs to check that nothing had happened to the pretty dress Joanne had bought her for the occasion.

Later that afternoon, Arthur was tidying up his porch when he caught sight of someone going across the headland. Convinced it was Barney, he put on his coat and climbed the hill toward him.

When he got to the spot where he thought he had seen Barney, there was nothing there, not a bird or a rabbit, or anything, save for the winter-chill that swept across the land when evening came.

“That’s funny!” Arthur was sure he’d seen someone up there. Cupping his mouth, he called against the wind. “BARNEY! Where the devil are you!” but there was no answer.

Puzzled, he made his way back to Casey’s Farm. “I could have sworn …” He shook his head. “Arthur Chives, you must be losing your marbles.” But then, he chided himself, was it surprising he’d begun to imagine things, when his best and only real friend in the world had told him he would probably not live to see another Christmas.

Farther down the hill, the figure remained hidden until Arthur had gone on his way, then furtively it emerged, to continue along the path in the direction of Overhill Farm.

The two Davidson boys were in the barn and had been for the past hour. “No, no!” Barney rushed forward, just in time to stop Ronnie from laying the section too close to the corner. “You need to leave room for the dancing,” he said. “If you take it too far into the corner, there’ll be no space for folks to swing about.”

Ronnie laughed at that. “Oh, so you do intend we’ll all be swinging about, do you?”

“I hope so!” Thomas brought forward another two sections. “I’m bringing the prettiest girl ever, and I’d be real disappointed if we weren’t able to dance!” He winked at Ronnie who told him he was fortunate, because so far, he himself didn’t have a partner.

“You’ve got Lucy,” Barney reminded him. “And if you think she can’t dance then you’d best think again, because from what me and your mammy have seen, she can cut a rug along wi’ the best of ’em!”

In fact, he had often caught Lucy when she was playing the gramophone and dancing on her own across the parlor. “What’s more,” he added, “she’s a fine-looking young woman. You should be proud she’s agreed to dance the evening away with you, my lad.”

“How many more sections do you think I need to make?” Thomas had been making wooden-slatted squares all morning, and now it seemed his father was right and there wouldn’t be enough of a dance-floor to cope with all the folks that were invited.

Barney walked the area with him. “We’ll need it right up to there,” he said, pointing to the barn wall. “That’s where the food will be. Then it needs taking to within three feet of the far end. That’s where the benches will be set out, and folks can sit if they’re not dancing.” He scratched his chin and mentally calculated. “I reckon if you could make another two, that should do it.”

As Thomas went back outside, Barney informed Ronnie, “That’s your job when once you’ve finished laying the floor. We’ll need at least four long benches for folks to sit on.”

“I like the way you say ‘we,’” Ronnie quipped. “I haven’t seen you lift a single thing yet, Dad!”

“Cheeky young divil!” Barney wagged a friendly finger. “Some of us have more to do than prepare for a barn-dance. There’s plenty of other work wants seeing to.”

Just lately, Barney had found it increasingly necessary to delegate the work he was physically incapable of doing. Thankfully, so far he had managed to hoodwink everybody. “Stop your moaning and get on with it, the young scoundrel. And be quick about it. Afore we know where we are, tomorrow will be here and so will all the folks.”

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