Josephine Cox Sunday Times Bestsellers Collection

‘Get away with you, you old flatterer!’ Strangely embarrassed, she took a forkful of leftover egg and popped it into her mouth, and astonished Mary by blushing bright pink.

Graciously refusing Mary’s offer to cook Adam’s breakfast instead, Lucy threw two more rashers of bacon and some mushrooms into the pan. In no time at all, they were sizzling away.

A few moments later, having finished washing at the sink and making sure he’d wiped it round afterwards, Adam seated himself at the table, where his breakfast was put in front of him. ‘Cor! Look at that – a real feast.’ He hadn’t realised how truly hungry he was until the aroma of hot food flooded his nostrils.

‘Thank you, Lucy.’ He turned to Mary with a wink. ‘Your mother’s not only beautiful, she’s a good cook into the bargain.’

Lucy thought one fine compliment was enough in a day. ‘Food is for eating,’ she said, placing a platter of toast before him. ‘So stop chatting and get it down you, before it goes cold.’

Smiling to herself at the way these two seemed to fit together like a hand in a glove, Mary was already getting out of her chair. ‘I’ll make some fresh tea.’ She knew how much Adam loved her mother, and she also suspected that, although she didn’t yet realise it, her mother had come to love him back.

Leaving them to talk, she took her time making the tea, while occasionally glancing at the two of them, now deep in conversation and looking for all the world like any other husband and wife; though they were neither of them ordinary. They were special, at least to her.

A short time later, having set them up with a fresh pot of tea, Mary excused herself. ‘Ben will be here soon,’ she explained. ‘We’re going into Shefford to look at a new tractor.’

‘A new tractor, eh?’ Lucy was delighted at how her daughter’s friendship with Ben Morris, the owner of Far Crest Farm, had grown into a close and loving relationship. It had been her dearest wish for Mary to find a man who cared deeply for her, and she truly believed Ben to be that man.

‘Talk of the devil, here he is now.’ Adam looked out of the window and drew their attention to the dark-haired, good-looking man on his way up the drive; with his tall capable build and long, easy strides, he looked like a man who could handle whatever obstacles life put in his way.

A few years ago, emotionally and mentally drained by the break-up of his marriage, Ben had decided to uproot himself and build a whole new way of life. It was not an easy decision, but when he eventually moved to the area of South Bedfordshire, he kept in close touch with his only child, Abbie, who had a secretarial job in London and shared a flat there with friends.

On first arriving in Salford, Ben, a former architect knew next to nothing about farming. But thanks to his practical nature, and learning as he went, he now had a comfortable income and a way of life he couldn’t have possibly ever imagined. And he had never been happier.

After the trauma and deceit that caused the end of his marriage to Pauline, he had not wanted another deep relationship. But then he met Lucy’s daughter, Mary, and had soon come to realise that not all women were the same. Where his wife had been dominant and deceitful, Mary was kind and caring; though she did have a fiery side. Last summer while they were strolling across the fields, they saw a man kicking his dog, and before Ben could intervene, Mary had snatched the dog away and confronted the man with a passion.

This incident had only served to convince Ben that he was a fortunate man, because here was a woman he could trust and respect. And he had come to love her so much, it frightened him.

‘BEN!’ Knocking on the window, Adam hoped to catch his attention, but the younger man was already out of earshot. ‘Don’t you two go running off before I’ve had a chance to see him,’ he said to Mary as she hurried from the room, ‘I want to ask the lad if he’ll have a look at the car. There’s nothing I don’t know about tractors, but I’m jiggered if I can fathom out what’s wrong with this blessed car!’

He frowned. ‘It starts then it dies away, coughing and spluttering. Ben knows his way round engines. With a bit of luck, he’ll be able to make more sense out of that damned vehicle than I can.’

‘Hey!’ Lucy’s voice followed them. ‘That’s quite enough of that cursing, if you don’t mind.’

Half-turning, Adam gave another tug of his forelock. ‘Sorry, boss,’ he said nervously. ‘I’ll not do it again.’

Chuckling heartily, Lucy returned to her tea.

A few minutes later, when she started to clear away, a feeling of total exhaustion overwhelmed her. Sudden pains shot down the back of her neck, and her spine felt as though it was being squeezed. This had happened before; thankfully, the attack always passed, though lately the passing seemed to take longer.

Resting a moment to recover, she rolled up her sleeves and was soon up to the elbows in hot sudsy water. It was a hard thing to come to terms with, growing old, and she resented the years rolling away behind her. Life was too short, and love too fleeting.

She thought of Barney wistfully. She would never again hold his hand or experience that wonderful surge of joy as he slid his arm around her when she least expected it. Life could be so cruel. But she had Mary, and so she still had a part of Barney in her life.

Looking out of the window, she saw how content her daughter was. She saw Mary helping Ben off with his jacket, and she witnessed the way they briefly touched and held hands before he leaned into the car engine. They belonged together, Lucy had known that from the first minute she saw them together in St Andrew’s churchyard all those months ago. That was why she had deliberately dropped her handbag there for Ben to find. When returning it to Lucy at her home, Knudsden House, he had met Mary again, and their romance had begun on that long, fateful night. And neither of them had ever suspected her part in it!

Ben reminded Lucy so much of Barney – oh, not in his physique, for Ben was taller and bigger-built than Barney and their colouring was different. But the essence of the man was the same; they each had a certain commanding presence. They smiled with their eyes and had that same kind of trustworthy, open nature.

Lucy’s heart swelled with love as she gazed fondly on her daughter. Mary would never know how thankful she was that the girl had found someone she truly loved, and who loved her back in the same way.

She couldn’t help but compare Mary and her sweetheart, to herself and Barney. She had loved her father in the same way the girl loved her Ben, deeply and without reservation.

She could see it all in her mind’s eye – herself, Barney and Vicky, his true wife, soulmate, and the mother of his three other children. It was a devilish triangle, destined to torment them all, and Barney the unwilling centrepiece of a cruel game that no one could ever win.

She had often wondered what she could have done to save them all so much pain, and the answer was always the same: there was nothing. She could not have prevented what happened, at least not without hurting Barney, and she loved him so much she would gladly have died for him. God help her, she loved him still with every fibre of her being.

Her eyes swam with sadness as she followed Mary’s every move. Oh, I don’t fool myself, she thought, because even though for a glorious time we were together and you, my darling, were conceived out of love, your father was never really mine.

Barney had loved her, in his own way, but it was Vicky of whom he dreamed. Even after he had sent her away, she filled his heart and soul. Lucy had always understood: Barney and Vicky were made for each other, and Lucy could never take the other woman’s place, nor would she want to. Vicky had been his first and only love … just as you were mine, she thought.

Chapter 3 (#ulink_b5f9c66e-a6d8-5216-9b0d-b2d6fcee37d6)

AS LUCY CARRIED on rinsing the pots, dreaming quietly to herself, she heard Mary call out a greeting to someone. Lucy raised her gaze to see a familiar figure approaching up the path. ‘Elsie!’ Lucy was not expecting her so early.

Quickly now, she wiped her arms and rolled down her sleeves, and backing away from the sink, she sat at the table, for all the world as though she had been there all along.

As was her way, Elsie Langton burst in through the door like a wayward wind, her sharp eyes going straight to the sink, half-filled with sudsy water and the few plates resting on the wooden draining-board alongside.

‘What’s all this then?’ she demanded, indignantly folding her arms. ‘You’ve been washing up again, haven’t yer? For heaven’s sakes, can you never do as you’re told and take it easy? What’s more, I’d be obliged if you would stop doing my work. One fine day I’ll come through that door and there you’ll be, waiting with my pay packet and a “cheerio, how’s yer father but I don’t need yer any more”. Then what will I do, eh? Tell me that if yer please!’

Lucy tutted impatiently. ‘Don’t talk so much nonsense, woman.’ Clambering out of her chair, she confronted the little person with a sense of outrage. ‘Anyway, who’s in charge round here, you tell me that.’

As the bantering continued, Mary stood by the door, quietly amused. There was no harm in these fiery exchanges, she knew that. Her mother valued Elsie as part of the family. And as for the little woman herself, she was hardworking, funny and lovable, and totally devoted to Lucy; but when she had a bee in her bonnet she could be a real terrier.

‘Out with it,’ Elsie demanded grimly. ‘What else have yer been up to? Sweeping the yard, taking down the curtains – what?’

With a measure of dignity, Lucy stood her ground. ‘Just listen to yourself. You above all people should know I’m past doing those kind of things. Anyway, what if I had done everything you claim? It’s my right. It’s my house, isn’t it?’

Exasperated, Elsie waggled her fat little head from side to side, which in turn wobbled the fat little shoulders. ‘It’s no use yer arguing with me,’ she retorted. ‘You had strict orders from the doctor … “gentle exercise and the occasional walk, as long as it’s not too far”, isn’t that what the man said?’

Lucy glared at her. ‘Good God, you make me sound like some poor old dog that needs to be put down!’

‘Dearie, dearie me!’ Elsie had a way of making you feel guilty even though you hadn’t done anything wrong. ‘If yer don’t mind me saying, it’s you that’s talking nonsense now. My only concern is that you keep strong and healthy. I don’t want to see you standing at the sink to wash the dishes, or turning the mattress, like you did the other day. And if I hadn’t arrived in time when you were struggling to get the vacuum cleaner out of the cupboard under the stairs, like as not you’d have broke a limb. And only yesterday I caught you cleaning out the pantry. God give me strength, you’re always meddling in places where you’ve no right to be. Cleaning, fetching and carrying is what I’m here for.’

When again she shook her head, her chubby little chops shivered with irritation. ‘It’s why yer pay me, for goodness’ sake!’

They both looked up as Mary stepped forward from the doorway. ‘I’ll make us a fresh pot of tea, shall I?’ she suggested tactfully. ‘That’s if nobody has any objections?’ Rona, Elsie’s daughter, worked alongside Mary in her flower-shop in Leighton Buzzard, and the two young women were fast friends. She’d be sure to report the latest exchange to her!

Grateful for the intervention, Lucy gave a warm smile. ‘Thank you, dear, that would be nice.’

But Elsie’s feathers were still ruffled. ‘I’ll have two sugars in mine,’ she snapped, ‘and just a whisper of milk, if yer please. There’s some Garibaldi biscuits in that tin. We’re keeping the homemade ones for Doctor Nolan.’ With that she took off her coat and hat and hung them up. ‘Meanwhile, I’d best make a start on cleaning the winders … before somebody we all know takes a mind to do it herself!’ With that she threw Lucy a withering glance and departed.

Lucy was left chuckling. ‘Anybody would think I interfered with her daily routine.’

Mary turned with a wry little smile. ‘You do.’

‘Well, maybe I do, but I’m frightened that if I stop doing things, I might seize up altogether. Don’t you know how hard it is for me to be still?’

‘I think I know that more than anybody. Don’t forget, I’m the one who has to live with you.’