Josephine Cox Sunday Times Bestsellers Collection

With raw eyes she looked into Lucy’s face as though searching for some kind of reassurance. ‘I didn’t believe it of him, Lucy. “It couldn’t have been your father” – that’s what I told Ronnie. “He would never do such a thing”.’ Her voice broke. ‘But to be honest, Lucy, somewhere in the back of my mind, God forgive me, because of the way Barney’s been behaving, I’m half-inclined to believe what Ronnie saw.’

When Susie returned and they had on their coats and scarves, the three of them wandered away to the spinney; these days they were reluctant to go near the river, because of the bad memories.

Lucy made no mention of the fact that, like Ronnie, she too had seen Barney on the streets drunk and laughing with a woman. Instead she told Vicky, ‘I’ve an idea Barney might still be suffering the effects of that night. It was a terrible thing for him to witness. Grief and shock can affect us all in different ways,’ she said in a low voice. God knows, she herself was half-demented with it. ‘Maybe Barney is not able to deal with the horror of what happened?’

Vicky had already considered that. ‘Of course he suffers from remembering, as we all do.’ She reached out to squeeze Lucy’s hand. ‘But it’s more than that,’ she went on sombrely. ‘Now I think about it, I’ve seen a few changes happening in Barney, long before that night. He’s been getting more preoccupied and distant, as though he’s always got something on his mind, and none of us are a part of it.’

She shrugged. ‘He’s been working so hard – pushing himself until he hurts. It’s as if he’s trying to prove something. He’s changed, Lucy, and now it’s got so I can hardly recognise him as the man I married.’

In spite of her determination not to let young Susie see her upset, Vicky began to cry, softly at first, and when she could no longer hold it back, the crying became wrenching sobs that tore her apart. ‘I’m sorry,’ she kept saying. ‘I’m so, so sorry.’ For the first time in her married life, she did not know how to deal with Barney.

Running to her, Susie threw her arms round Vicky’s waist; in a choked voice she told her, ‘Don’t cry, Mammy, it’s all right. Please don’t cry.’ The normal roles of mother and child were reversed, and Vicky was ashamed.

After a time they walked on; Lucy lost in her own thoughts, Vicky also quiet now, and Susie with her hand clutched in her mammy’s.

All three were thinking of Barney. Lucy was determined to get him alone and have a heart-to-heart with him; Vicky wondered how she could win back the man she loved; and her frightened daughter silently brooded over the night’s event, her heart alive with all manner of emotion – and shockingly, even the smallest beginnings of hatred towards the father she adored.

When they got back to the house, despite the cold, Ronnie was seated on the garden bench. With his head down and his hands over the back of his neck, he did not hear them approach.

‘Ronnie?’ Going immediately to him, Vicky put her arm around his shoulders. ‘What are you doing out here in the cold?’

Ronnie looked up. In the half-light from the windows she could see that he’d been crying. ‘What is it, love?’ She sat beside him. ‘What’s happened?’

For a long anxious moment, Ronnie gave no answer. Instead he glanced back at the house, then he looked at his mother and the tears ran down his face. ‘That man in there,’ he whispered brokenly. ‘I don’t even know who he is any more.’

Rising to Barney’s defence, Vicky told him firmly, ‘Whatever he says or does, and whatever you may think of him just now, he is still your father!’

Ronnie shook his head. ‘No, he’s not. I know my father like I know myself, and that man in there is a stranger.’

Vicky understood but was horrified all the same. ‘Your father is ill,’ she said lamely. ‘He doesn’t seem to understand how he’s hurting us. Barney is a good man. He’s stood by all of us at one time or another, and now it’s our turn to stand by him.’

Scrambling to his feet, Ronnie looked down on her in amazement. ‘How can you say that?’ he demanded. ‘I saw him with my own eyes! He was drunk in the street, in the company of a woman like that … They went away laughing – laughing at you, Mother! He’s not only cheating on you, but he’s doing it openly. He gets himself drunk and then he comes home arguing and causing trouble in the family.’

His voice shook with rage. ‘You can stand by him if you like, but I won’t! I can’t forgive him.’

Seeing her brother stride off angrily into the night, Susie wailed, ‘Stop him, Mammy. STOP HIM!’

Grabbing her close, Vicky held her tight. ‘I can’t,’ she said, ‘but he’ll be back. You’ll see, sweetheart, Ronnie will be back.’ In her heart though, she could not be certain of that.

‘Do you want me to go?’ Having witnessed the distress in this close-knit family, Lucy was afraid for them all, including Barney. She wanted to stay but sensed that Vicky needed to be alone with her family.

Vicky nodded. ‘I’m sorry, Lucy,’ she apologised. ‘I’ll get Thomas to see you home.’ Because the night was cold and because she had great affection for Lucy, she invited her to come inside first.

She led the way, with Susie at her side and Lucy following.

When she walked into the sitting room, Lucy was shocked at the sight of Barney. Unkempt and unshaven, he sat in the armchair, his shirt undone to the chest and his head lolling sideways. Lucy thought he looked ill and quietly said so to Vicky.

Thomas had been standing before the fire, his eyes alive with anger as he stared at his father. ‘He’s not ill.’ He spat out the words. ‘He’s drunk!’

‘I’ll deal with your father.’ Taking hold of him by the arm, Vicky led him away. ‘I need you to take Lucy home in the trap.’

Thomas nodded. ‘Will you be all right?’

‘I’ll be fine,’ she answered with a smile. ‘Oh, and take Susie with you.’ When the girl protested, she told her gently, ‘Lucy would like that, wouldn’t you, lass?’

Realising Vicky’s intent, Lucy nodded. ‘Yes, I would.’ Addressing Susie she told her, ‘I need to know all about the new clothes you and Mammy have bought for the journey to America.’

At Lucy’s remark, Thomas gave a grunt. ‘That’s if we ever go!’

Susie gave a cry. ‘We are going, aren’t we, Mammy?’

Vicky nodded. ‘That’s the plan, sweetheart.’ Though her heart was breaking, she smiled her brightest. ‘In just over a week’s time we’ll be boarding the ship for America.’ She gave Barney a sideways glance. ‘All of us!’

On the way back to Viaduct Street, Thomas sat hunched on the driving seat, quiet and morose. He had only ever seen his father drunk once, and that was when his friend Adam had brought back some strong homemade cider to mark his birthday. It was a memorable night, which ended in laughter and good humour. This time it was different. And in all his life, Thomas had never felt so helpless.

Over the next few days, Barney’s hitherto good name deteriorated further. ‘Cheating on his good wife,’ people tutted. ‘Carrying on wi’ all kinds, and drinking himself into a stupor every chance he gets.’

‘I hear he stayed out all night a while back.’ Even on the bus they tittle-tattled about him. ‘Lord knows what that family’s going through, and them supposed to be leaving for America any day now.’

Seated behind the two gossiping women, Lucy could not wait to get off at her stop; though as she passed them she commented loudly on ‘folks who can’t help but gossip, even when they don’t have a clue what they’re talking about’!

As she hurried home, she wondered where it would all end.

Bridget was alone. ‘The girls have gone on another one of these “business” appointments,’ she said proudly. ‘Sure, haven’t we gone up in the world, don’t you think?’

‘Mmm.’ Seating herself at the table, Lucy recalled what the women on the bus had said. ‘I hear that Barney stayed out all night a while back. How on earth do folks find out so much so soon?’

Bridget plonked a cup of tea down on the table. ‘What exactly are we talking about?’

Lucy told her about the two women and the conversation they were having. ‘What on earth are we going to do about Barney?’ she asked. ‘I’m at my wit’s end.’ She gave Bridget a wary look. ‘What if Vicky ever finds out he was here the night he went missing?’

‘I won’t tell if you won’t,’ Bridget replied. ‘What was I supposed to do when he turned up, soaking wet and looking to come inside? He only slept the drink off while I dried his clothes, that’s all.’ With big eyes she chided Lucy. ‘Should I have turned him away – is that what you’re saying?’

Lucy shook her head. ‘No, of course it’s not.’ All the same, she felt as though she was betraying Vicky by not telling her, and she told that to Bridget now.

Bridget was angry with her. ‘Now look here, young lady! Sure the man himself pleaded with you not to tell where he was for most of the night. You did right not to say anything, and besides, didn’t they have the holiest of rows and didn’t she get angry and lock the door against him?’

‘So I’m told, yes.’

‘There y’are, then! Even if he’d gone home, he wouldn’t have been able to get in. He’d have had to sleep on the garden bench, so he would!’

Once Bridget was in full sail there was no stopping her. ‘I gave him a bed for the night and there’s nothing to be ashamed of in that. You and I both know how hard I’m trying to get this house respectable. It may well have been a house of pleasure a while back, but things are changing.’

She bristled with pride. ‘You’ll notice I’m more of a businesswoman now, so ye will. What’s more, little Tillie has taken to her new job of bookkeeper like a duck to water.’ She gave a short whistle. ‘I never knew she was so good at keeping proper accounts! And she’s delighted with the shorter hours and the bigger wage-packet.’

Lucy had to smile. ‘You always were ambitious,’ she said fondly. ‘And happen you’re right about giving Barney a bed for the night. If he had upset Vicky so much that she locked the door against him, she might have done worse if he’d gone banging on the door in the middle of the night.’

Bridget beamed. ‘Well, there y’are then. Sure, isn’t that what I’ve been saying all along?’ She had a question. ‘Did ye manage to have a quiet word with him … about the womanising and the drinking?’