The Loner (18 page)

He prided himself on having already bluffed his way into her father’s good books. Frank Thomson openly liked him; after nine years, not only did his employer now trust him implicitly, but Frank was filled with admiration at Seamus’s expertise with the horses.

With Lucy, though, he seemed to have got off on the wrong foot, Seamus thought irritably. He was too impatient and anxious to get his hands on the Thomson fortune. So from now on, if his well-laid plans were to amount to anything, he would have to play it crafty, watch his temper and create opportunities that would shine him in a new light.

He had worked hard and schemed to win a place here. And now that he felt the time was ripening for him to make his move, one thing was certain. One way or another, he could not allow some gyppo to snatch it all from under his nose.

‘Aw, thanks.’ Don scrambled aboard. ‘I thought I’d missed it for sure.’ Wending his way down to the far end, he seated himself by the window. It was good to be back in Blackburn, he thought. He had been away too long, and with every passing day he missed his family more than he could ever have imagined. But when he went away, he had left in anger, angry at his father-in-law for having been weak just like himself in not taking Rita to task earlier … though he was deeply fond of that dear old man and ashamed that he had let him down.

He had been angry with his son, Davie, for wanting to stay with his mother, when time and again Rita had pushed them all to the limit, until in the end he could stand no more. But then Davie was fiercely loyal and independent, with a love for family that was deeply protective. Yet on that awful night, the boy’s love and loyalty was torn all ways. That night, they all had choices to make; Rita to mend her ways or continue going downhill and taking them all with her; the old man had to decide whether he was prepared to go on accepting things the way they were, and Davie, just a boy with his world collapsing about him, was forced into choosing to stay with his father or defend his mother. Such a choice must have been the hardest thing for any child. So, Davie chose his mammy, and who could blame him for that? Certainly not himself, for he knew only too well how wonderful Rita could be, and how easy it was to love her. He only hoped his son had not lived to regret his choice, the way his daddy had done so many times.

These past years, he had half hoped that somehow his son would find him. When it did not happen, he was disappointed but not altogether surprised. Now, all he wanted was to reunite his family again, and pray they could build a better future together.

There were many regrets for the hurt he had caused by walking out. He hoped they would forgive him, especially Rita. She had been the love of his life and he could never see himself loving any other woman in the same way.

His deepest anger had been reserved for his wife. For it was she in the end who had split the family apart; with her wanton ways and her lack of remorse or shame, she had a great deal to answer for. His anger for this woman he had loved forever and still loved, had crippled him for a long, long time. And when at last it finally subsided, there grew in him a great sense of loss, more painful than anything that had gone before.

He missed old Joseph, and he missed his son, Davie, so very much. And for all her sins, he ached for Rita, his sweetheart, that bright, happy girl who had captured his heart with her first smile. Through all the anger and pain, and the time that had gone between, he loved her still. He had never stopped loving her.

And now he was back home, humbled and lonely, with a desperate need to draw his family back together and turn over a new leaf and God willing to help Rita do the same.

‘All aboard that’s coming aboard!’ The conductor pressed the bell button for leaving; at the same time taking stock of his new passenger, who was tall and well-built, with a long, confident stride.

‘You were lucky to catch the tram,’ he told him now. ‘Another minute and we’d have been gone, and you’d have had to wait a long time for the next one.’

Don thanked him again. ‘I’ve been away,’ he explained. ‘I came in on the train. It was late, that’s what held me up. But I’m here now, on my way home, and glad of it.’

‘So, you’ve been away in Ireland, have you?’

‘How did you know I was from Ireland?’ Don asked.

‘Ah, well, I’ve got a good ear for accents. But from what I can tell, you’ve lived longer in England than you have in your homeland, am I right?’

With a chuckle, Don quipped, ‘The Irish girls wouldn’t take me on, so I found mea Lancashire lass.’

‘And did you ever regret it?’ the conductor asked idly.

It seemed an age before Don answered, and when he did, it was in such a husky voice, the other man had to lean down to hear him. ‘No, I don’t think I ever did regret it,’ he murmured. ‘Though there were certain things I might like to have changed along the way.’

The conductor laughed. ‘Aren’t there always?’ he answered. ‘We love ’em and wed ’em, but there’s none of ’em perfect, and never will be. But for all that, we’d rather not be without ’em.’ Turning the handle of the clumsy machine strapped round his shoulder, he concluded the conversation. ‘Where to?’

‘I’m headed for Derwent Street, and as far as I can recall, the tram doesn’t go there?’

The conductor shook his head. ‘That’s right. Sorry, matey. You still have to get off at King Street and walk up to Derwent Street.’

Don held out his loose change. ‘King Street it is then.’

Taking the correct number of coins, the tram-conductor dropped them into the leather pouch around his waist, and proceeded to roll off the ticket. ‘My own wife comes from County Cork,’ he went on. ‘Her grandfather came to England looking for work years ago, and the whole family followed.’

He sighed. ‘My Rosie is a real beauty. When she was young, her hair was red as fire … it’s faded a bit now, more’s the pity,’ he gabbled on. ‘By! She’s got one hell of temper, though. That’s what they say, don’t they? ‘‘Red hair, red temper’’.’

When Don held out his hand for the ticket, the conductor made no move to give it him. ‘So, what about yourself?’ he asked. ‘Are you home to stay, or are you on a visit?’ He then handed Don the ticket. ‘Sorry. I hope you don’t mind me being nosy?’

‘No, I don’t mind at all.’ Though in truth, Don would rather be left alone right now. Friendly though the conductor was, he himself was not in the mood for talking. ‘And to answer your question, I’ve lived away for sometime, but now I’m back to stay.’

‘Been away earning the money, have you?’

‘You could say that, yes.’ But none of it had gone to his family, he thought guiltily. They had had to manage without his wage for all these years.

‘Do you have children?’

‘A son.’ Don pictured Davie in his mind. ‘He’ll be eighteen now.’ His heart shuddered. It was some five years since he had seen Davie. Would he look the same? Would he want his father anywhere near? Had he forgiven him for leaving that night? And what about Rita? When they parted, it had been with bitterness, so how would she feel now, when he turned up at the door? Would she still be drinking and leading the life of Riley, or would she have settled down by now? And Davie would be out at work, keeping food on the table. Would he be in the same line of work as himself, Don wondered, recalling the hours they had spent together, making things for the house. He felt so excluded from their lives.

Realising he was not in the mood for chit-chat, the conductor prepared to move on. ‘Good luck to you then,’ he said, and approached his next passenger, a grey-haired, grey-faced woman. ‘Hello, Mrs Armitage. And how are you today?’

While the conductor chatted, Don watched as the familiar streets opened out to him, and when the tram turned into King Street, his heart was full, the memories almost too much to bear. The sights lifted his spirits, and he felt like an exile returning to everything he loved. This was his home, his life – and oh, dear God, how he had missed it!

For the millionth time, all the old questions rampaged through his mind. Why had he run away? Why couldn’t he have stayed and tried harder with Rita? Had she changed now? he wondered again. Had his leaving brought her to her senses? Or was she still gallivanting, bedding every man she met? Moreover, had she found someone to replace him?

Torturing himself, he began to believe the worst. So, had he done the right thing in coming back, or should he have left well alone and made a permanent life for himself, away from these parts, and away from Rita? It wasn’t as though he himself hadn’t had the occasional relationship, because he had. But there had been nothing serious, nor had he led the women to believe anything otherwise. They were mere time-fillers, until he found the strength to come home and make amends with Rita, once and for all.

And now here he was, worried and anxious about the outcome. Either she would turn him away, or, like him, she had been lonely, aching for things to be as they used to be … before it all went wrong.

As they travelled along King Street, he glanced out of the window. There was the picture-house and the row of shops. And now they were nearing the pretty narrow bridge in front of the greengrocer’s. Suddenly the tram was stopping and he really began to panic. Should he stay on the tram and go back to tramp the hills and valleys of Ireland, where he had hidden away all these years? Or should he brave it out and take the consequences, whatever they were?

Yes, he should! He
had
to, or he would always regret it. And what of Davie, and the look on his young face as his daddy went out the door? What had the boy been thinking in that awful moment, and had he hated him ever since?

For one terrifying moment, Don’s courage almost deserted him. Then he remembered how close he and his son had been, up until that shocking event when anger exploded and he burst out of the house. And then, after he left for Ireland, he had suffered from devastating loneliness, from days that never seemed to end, sleepless nights and the deep-down yearning that wouldn’t go away.

His family were the most precious things on God’s earth to him, and for these five long years, he had let his pride keep him away.

But he was here now, and come what may, this was where he would end his days. And if Rita didn’t want him, he would make a new life nearby. He would work hard to win back his son’s trust and love.
And never again would he desert him.