Classic Bestsellers from Josephine Cox: Bumper Collection

‘Cut loose, man! Why! You could choose any woman that took your fancy. Lord knows, you’re a good catch for any of ’em. You’re a fine figure of a man – fit and strong – and you’ve money in your pocket.’

John laughed, but it was a sound without mirth. ‘I’ve no mind to do any such thing.’

‘Then you’re a fool!’

‘Aye, and I’ll stay a fool.’ The idea of any other woman taking Emily’s place was unthinkable.

‘Then listen to me and listen good, son.’ Leaning forward, Archie spoke in a stern voice and with the merest scowl on his face. ‘No man should martyr himself for a woman who turns her back on him. If she has a husband and child, then there’s no going back that I can see. She’s made her bed and you’ll do well to let her get on with it. You’ve a life to live, and every minute spent brooding over her is a minute wasted. If you can’t see that now, you soon will.’

Something about the old sailor’s manner, a kind of rage, made John think he must have suffered a similar experience. ‘Is that what you did, Archie?’ he asked curiously. ‘Did the same thing happen to you that happened to me?’

For a long moment Archie stared into his ale. ‘It might have,’ he admitted. But he would not be drawn further on the subject. ‘All I’m saying is, if you brood after one woman for the rest of your life, you might as well not have a life.’

The two of them drank in silence, their thoughts going back to their own lives and recalling how it was before, and each of them knowing it would never be like that again. It was a sobering thought, and the more they thought the more they drank.

Yet they had their wits about them, and even now, though he wished it was any other way, John was musing over a plan that would take them forward. ‘What was your real trade?’ he asked of Archie. ‘Before you went as a cook on the ships?’

With a mischievous little smile, Archie held high his jug of ale. ‘Delivering this on a horse and cart,’ he revealed. ‘Thirty years and more, I drove for Thwaites’s Brewery … delivered all over the North, from when I was little more than a lad, right up to the day before I signed my name to be a sailor.’

Quietly pleased with Archie’s answer, John had more questions. ‘So you know how to handle a horse and cart?’

Archie stuck out his little chest. ‘I was the lead driver – that should tell you how good I was.’ He chuckled. ‘All done up in my breeches and red jacket, there wasn’t a finer sight to be seen.’ Giving a wink, he revealed, ‘I had my fair share of women then, I can tell you.’

John could well believe it. ‘So, you know the North well, do you?’

‘I do, son, yes – better than any man.’

‘And who made the wagons?’

Archie had to think hard on that one, but by and by he had the answer. ‘A family firm by the name of Armitage,’ he said. ‘The father owned a sawmill and the two sons made the wagons in a yard alongside. As I recall, each was run as a separate business.’ He cocked his head as he told John, ‘I were told the father passed on some years back, and the sons took over the timber business. But they can’t still be going, ’cause they’d be as old as I am now. Unless o’ course they too had sons and the tradition got carried on.’

John could see everything falling into place. ‘Where was it situated, this timber business?’

‘About four miles away, more in the countryside. The business lies alongside the Leeds and Liverpool canal – it’s easier y’see, for transporting and delivering the timber on the barges.’ Now it was Archie’s turn to be curious. ‘You’re asking a lot o’ questions. What’s all this about?’

John had not wanted to reveal his idea until he had made some more enquiries and could be sure what he was getting into, but now that Archie was asking, he decided to outline his plans for the two of them.

‘You recall I told you how I earned my living by repairing and building wagons, hay-carts and such … not in a big way, mind you, but I know a wheel from an axle and I had sufficient customers to bring in a fair enough wage.’ His voice fell to a whisper. ‘It was more than enough, until Emily and I got serious about the future.’

‘I see.’ Turning the idea over in his mind, Archie swallowed the dregs of his ale. ‘And how do you mean to go about starting such a business?’ he asked. ‘It won’t be easy. And I’m only saying that because I know there are enough well-established firms who supply all the wagons around these parts. What makes you think you can find an opening? And if you do find it, how could you secure enough customers to keep you going?’

John had already thought about that. ‘Back home there were some who said I was the best. Any cart or wagon I made or repaired, outlasted all the ones brought in from the big towns. I took a pride in what I did, Archie. I built and repaired everything the way I’d want it myself … strong and lasting, with the stamp of quality.’

‘Ah yes, but folks don’t want to pay for that.’ Archie had been around long enough to know the score. ‘Build it fast and sell it cheap, never mind quality.’

‘But that’s false economy,’ John argued. ‘There must be sharp-minded folks who’d rather pay a few guineas more for something that will last twice as long. My thinking is this – if there’s nobody building strong, quality wagons, the customers hereabouts might be glad of somebody like myself.’

He looked at Archie, his face determined. ‘I can tell there’s a place for me here,’ he declared. ‘Soonever I’ve introduced you to Harriet, I want you to take me to this yard you were talking about. I’d like to see how the land lies … get my bearings, so to speak.’

Archie’s eyes lit up at the mention of a woman’s name. ‘Who’s this Harriet then?’

‘She’s the landlady at my lodgings.’

‘Bit of all right, is she?’ Archie said eagerly, though whether that was the prospect of meeting Harriet, or the effects of too much ale, John couldn’t tell. ‘And she’s agreed to put me up, has she?’

John confirmed it. ‘You’ll have a camp-bed in my room, and it’ll be for no more than three nights, that’s the deal.’

‘Hmh! That’s not much help, if you don’t mind me saying. When the three nights are up, where am I supposed to go from there?’

Now, when John stood up, Archie followed suit. ‘We’ll have to see, won’t we?’ he answered. ‘First, let’s get you settled, then we’ll head off to the timberyard. It won’t be dark for a few hours yet.’

‘And what will you do when we get there?’

John hadn’t thought that far ahead. ‘Oh, I don’t know,’ he said lamely. ‘Mebbe I’ll offer my skills and a deal of money to buy in as a partner.’

Archie laughed at his bare-faced cheek. ‘What if they don’t want a partner?’

‘Then I’ll set up on my own.’

Archie was impressed. ‘You’ve got big ideas, I’ll say that for you.’

Taking him by the elbow, John chided, ‘Seems to me, you’re slightly tipsy.’ He observed how Archie was gently swaying from side to side. ‘I can tell you now, Harriet won’t like that.’

‘Then she’s not my sort o’ woman and that’s a fact!’

‘Mebbe, but I reckon a bite to eat is in order before we see her.’ He led Archie to the door. ‘There’s a little tearoom round the corner,’ he said. ‘We’ll spend a few minutes in there before we make for the lodgings.’

Moaning and complaining, Archie followed him. ‘If your landlady is one o’ them miserable types that doesn’t like a man to be merry, I’m not sure I want to lodge there at all!’

John laughed. ‘I can’t deny she has a forceful side to her, but she’s agreed to let you stay, and that’s good enough for me. So, get a move on, and stop complaining, or I might decide to leave you where I found you.’

The threat didn’t worry Archie, for he knew that was the last thing John would ever contemplate.

An hour later, with Archie more sober and milder of mood, John presented him to Harriet. ‘This is my old shipmate Archie,’ he said. ‘A more amiable man you’ll never meet.’

While Archie took stock of this big, awkward woman with her straight face and large, unattractive hands, Harriet also observed Archie, who nervously glanced away under her scrutiny.

She walked round him a few times, sniffing at him like a dog might sniff at a bone. And when she was done, she stood before him, hands on hips and her eyes boring into his. ‘You stink!’

‘I do not!’ Archie glared back. ‘I’m a particular man and always have been.’

‘Hmh! Not particular enough, from where I stand.’ She took another sniff at him and wrinkled her nose. ‘If you ask me, you’ve been keeping company with the dogs on the street, or women of a certain reputation. Either way you stink to high heaven and I’ll have no argument on the matter.’

When John gave Archie a warning glance, the old man took the hint. ‘All right, so mebbe I do pong a bit. It’s hardly surprising, is it, when I’ve been forced to sleep rough. But you’ve shown a kind heart to a poor old fellow, and I’m ever so grateful for that.’ He congratulated himself on being able to charm the birds from the trees. The trouble was, he hadn’t come across a woman like Harriet before; more was the pity.

‘Three nights!’ she declared. ‘But first, you go into the bathroom and strip off your clothes. You throw the clothes outside the door, and while you’re scrubbing the dirt off yourself, I’ll get the dirt off your clothes. I usually send everything to the laundry, but this is an emergency!’

Archie treated the idea with utter contempt. ‘If you think I’m handing my clothes over to you, you’ve got another think coming, missus! Moreover, if you’re expecting me to climb into a bath, you can keep your lodgings, ’cause I’m not interested.’