Classic Bestsellers from Josephine Cox: Bumper Collection

‘I should think so an’ all.’ Taking hold of her arm he instructed, ‘You’ve worn me out, fetching me to this winder. Help me to the chair, and get me a blanket. Oh, and I’d like another cuppa tea. The last one got spilled all o’er the bed, thanks to you!’

Aggie was visibly taken aback. ‘For somebody who’s worn out, you’re very forceful with your orders, aren’t you?’

‘It’s up to you,’ he said weakly. ‘Either yer do as I ask, or you’ll ’ave me down with pneumonia, then what will yer do?’ For good effect he gave another dramatic shiver.

Aggie lost no time in getting him to the chair next to the fire. When he seemed more comfortable, she rushed to take a blanket from the cupboard and tuck it round him. ‘There – is that better?’

‘Where’s me tea?’

‘I’m not your slave, you know.’ She thought he’d made a remarkable recovery. ‘I’ve only got one pair of hands, and I’d be thankful if you’d kindly stop your blessed grumbling and groaning.’

As she went at the trot out the door, he called after her. ‘Aggie!’

‘What now?’

He gave her one of his cheekiest winks. ‘You like me having a go at yer, don’t yer, eh? Life wouldn’t be the same if we didn’t ’ave a bit of a banter now and then, would it?’

First giving him a warm smile, she hurried down the stairs. ‘You’re right, Dad,’ she chuckled heartily, putting the kettle on to make him a fresh brew. ‘Life just wouldn’t be the same.’

Glancing out of the kitchen window, she saw how Emily was still there, huddled against the sharp winter morning, her old shawl drawn tight about her head, which was bent, deep in thought. Aw, lass, her mother thought tenderly. What are we going to do with you, eh? But there was nothing at all she or anyone else could do. Except John, and he was not here.

On an impulse, she put on her coat and boots and prepared to go out to Emily. Then she took them off again. She’d best leave the lass be. Emily would have to work it out herself.

Aggie would have turned the world upside down to help her daughter but she knew that, when it came down to it, Emily was the only one who could decide what was best for her and Cathleen. And Danny as well, come to that.

A short time later she carried the old man’s tea up, changed the bed, and decided to let him finish his tea in peace. ‘I’ll be back in a while,’ she promised. ‘Keep that blanket round you though, Dad. It’s too cold to be wandering about in your undies.’ She glanced out the window. ‘I reckon it’ll snow afore the day’s out,’ she observed. ‘The skies are full of it.’

From where he sat, he too was able to see out the window. ‘It’ll not snow today,’ he remarked in a matter-of-fact voice.

Aggie smiled. ‘Oh, and who are you all of a sudden, then? The man in charge of the weather?’

‘I’m an old farmer,’ he replied confidently. ‘And we know a thing or two about the weather.’

She wagged a finger at him. ‘Aye, an’ so do old farmers’ wives,’ she retorted. ‘An’ I say it will snow heaven’s hardest. We ought to be good and ready for it, that’s what I say.’

‘Yer wrong, woman!’ He looked her in the eye. ‘It will not snow today, I’m telling yer.’ He took a casual sip of his tea, and nearly leaped out of his chair. ‘Bloody hell! This tea’s scalding hot.’

‘Oh, I’m sorry, Dad,’ she answered meekly. ‘Did you want it cold?’

‘Don’t talk daft! What use is a cold cuppa tea?’

He took another sip, this time relishing it, but as always he had to have the last word. ‘One way or another I reckon yer mean to finish me off.’

Aggie went out of the room, laughing to herself. ‘I’ll not be long afore I’m back!’ she called behind her, laughing louder when he retorted, ‘If yer gonna mek fun o’ me, you can bloody well stay away! An’ yer can stop talking about summat you know nowt about, too, ’cause it won’t snow today! You think on that.’

The old man couldn’t have been more wrong, because it did snow. It began a couple of hours later and continued well into the afternoon.

On the stroke of one, Emily came down the stairs, wearing her wedding outfit and looking pale but very lovely.

‘Aw, lass. You do us proud.’ Aggie was close to tears as she looked on her daughter.

‘Do I look all right then, Mam?’ Like all brides, in the short time before she took her vows, Emily was trembling inside. ‘You don’t think folks will tut and talk about me, do you?’

Aggie was shocked. ‘Whatever d’you mean?’

‘Because of Cathleen. I’ve had a child out of wedlock, Mam. That in itself is bad enough, but dressing up to be wed and the child as bridesmaid … well, it’s wrong, don’t you think?’

‘Having a child out of wedlock is a terrible thing – and nobody’s going to deny that, lass,’ Aggie said truthfully. ‘But the child came out of love between you and John Hanley. Everybody knows that. They also know it wasn’t your fault that he left you stranded.’

Emily listened to what her mother had to say and shame engulfed her. It was all a lie – a shocking lie that she had allowed everyone to believe. But the truth was even more shocking – that her own uncle had taken her by force, and Cathleen was the result.

‘Put it all out of your mind, love,’ Aggie urged. ‘This is your wedding day. You and Danny will be man and wife and afterwards, you’ll be respectable in everyone’s eyes. You’ll have somebody to take care of you, and Cathleen will have a daddy. When you say the words and sign your name as Danny’s wife, it’s a new life, a new start. So you must put all the bad stuff behind you, sweetheart. It’ll be all right, you’ll see.’

‘Thank you, Mam.’ Emily threw her arms round that dear, familiar figure, holding so tight and for so long that Aggie herself had to break the hold.

‘We’ll be there for you,’ she told Emily softly. ‘Me an’ Grandad, and Cathleen. When you get nervous and need some reassurance, just turn around and we’ll all be there.’

Pushing her away, she said grandly, ‘Now then, let’s have a look at you.’ She observed the smart cream-coloured suit with its fitted jacket, leg of mutton sleeves and flowing ankle-length skirt, and the pale blue hat with its smart cream feather and tiny veil above Emily’s mop of shining brown hair, and she was moved to tears. ‘By! You’ll have their eyes popping out, that you will!’ Taking out her hankie she shook it open and blew her nose loud and hard.

When Cathleen came running into the room, dressed prettily in a suit to match her own and both made by Aggie herself, Emily took her into her arms and gave her a mother’s kiss. ‘Are we ready then, sweetheart?’ However doubtful she felt, she must stay strong for the child’s sake.

Suddenly the carriage had arrived and there followed a few minutes of pandemonium. ‘Where’s your grandad?’ Aggie asked the child. ‘Was he ready when you came down just now?’

‘’Course I’m ready, woman!’ His voice sailed down from the upper regions. ‘All I need is a helping hand to get me down these blessed stairs!’

A moment or two later, Emily and Aggie had the carriage-driver in to help the old fella down the stairs and out the door. ‘We’ll have you settled and tucked into your seat in no time at all,’ the carriage-driver pronounced assuredly.

‘Don’t walk so damned fast, you silly arse!’ To his horror, Grandad found himself being propelled down the path at an extraordinary pace. ‘We’re not in no bloody race, as far as I’m aware.’

Inside the farmhouse the chaos continued. ‘Where did I put my hat?’ Aggie panicked. She wore a plain burgundy two-piece costume with a lemon-coloured blouse and a twiggy flower in her buttonhole that Grandad called ‘half a bloody tree!’. But she looked wonderful, and felt it. ‘Oh, look. There it is!’ Grabbing the hat from the dresser she plonked it on her head at a peculiar angle.

‘That’s not right, Mam,’ Emily told her. ‘It makes you look as if you’ve had one too many.’ She straightened the hat and looking in the mirror, Aggie was pleased to see how smart it was. ‘Money well spent,’ she said. ‘And the Lord knows we have to count every penny.’

Gathering her daughter and granddaughter, she ushered them across the room. ‘We’d best get a move on,’ she said, ‘or Grandad will be giving that poor man nightmares out there.’

‘We forgot the flowers!’ Almost at the door, Emily ran back to retrieve the flowers; a posy for Cathleen, and her own pretty, discreet bouquet. Being December there was a small choice of flowers, but thankfully the florist had managed to inject a measure of colour and greenery, all tied up with a pretty pink bow.

In a moment, to Grandad’s relief, they were climbing into the carriage.

‘There y’are, Dad – I told you it would snow.’ Aggie couldn’t resist saying I told you so.

‘It won’t last,’ he answered sulkily. ‘It’s nobbut a little shower.’

‘’Fraid not, sir.’ The carriage-driver folded the step-stool behind Cathleen, and prepared to close the door. ‘I reckon it’s in for the day, if not longer.’

‘Who the devil asked for your opinion?’ The old man gave him one of his probing glares. ‘Just get on and do the work you’re being paid for and mind your own damned business.’

As the disgruntled man slammed shut the door, Grandad added under his breath, ‘It’s a bloody shower, an’ I should know!’