A Mother’s Gift: Two Classic Novels

‘And do you?’

‘Do I what?’

Lucy groaned. ‘BEN! Do you like him?’

‘I’d be a fool to tell you if I did.’ Mary shook her head. ‘Think whatever you want,’ she said casually. ‘You will anyway.’ Her mother was the rarest and most wonderful of characters. She never missed a trick. When Lucy Davidson was around, there was no use trying to keep secrets.

‘Where is he now?’ Curious, Lucy stretched her neck to see out of the window. ‘He’s not escaped, has he? You’ve not frightened him off, I hope.’

Mary laughed at that. ‘No! He wanted to see what I’d been doing to the garden, that’s all.’

Lucy tutted. ‘Silly girl! Don’t you know anything?’ Sometimes she despaired of her, and at other times she was proud of Mary – and proud of herself – because it meant that she had raised an intelligent, trusting girl who saw the good in everyone.

‘What are you getting at, Mother?’

‘It’s fairly obvious, isn’t it? He wanted you to go with him. Oh, dearie me!’

Mary would not admit it to her mother, but she had been sorely tempted to join Ben in the garden. However, there wasn’t enough time. If the women had been on their own, a bowl of soup and slice of cold apple-pie would have done them proud for supper, but having invited Ben to join them, they had to do better than that. Mary was planning to cook some pork chops, and serve them with mashed potatoes and homemade pickle.

‘You forget, I’ve a dinner to cook,’ she answered. ‘There’ll be time enough later for us all to get to know each other.’

A familiar tap on the living-room door curtailed their conversation. Hurrying to the door, Mary drew it open. ‘Hello, Adam,’ she said, and hugged him. These past years, the small man had been like a father to her although, like the gent he was, Adam had always kept his distance.

Lucy’s face lit up. ‘Adam, come in. Come in!’ Dismissing Mary with a wave of her hand, she reminded her, ‘I thought you were away to start supper?’

‘I was … I am.’ Looking from Adam to her mother, the girl couldn’t help but wonder what was going on. Whenever her mother wanted her out of the way like this, there was usually something brewing. But then she was always involved in some scheme or another, bless her heart. It was what kept her going.

‘Go on then,’ Lucy reprimanded her. ‘Adam and I have business to discuss, so be off with you.’ She had been unable to speak to him privately earlier, when he’d driven her and Mary to the churchyard, and now she wanted a quiet word with him.

‘She doesn’t change, does she, Adam?’ Mary groaned light-heartedly. ‘Same old bully as ever.

Adam’s fond gaze bathed the older woman. ‘She’ll never change,’ he said softly. ‘Thank God.’ The same age as Lucy, he had stayed with her through thick and thin, and every inch of the way he had loved and adored her from afar. Lucy knew it, yet she never said. She felt a lot of affection for him too. But it was not the same deep, driving passion she’d had for Barney. That kind of love happened only once in a lifetime.

And yet in her deepest heart, though he had taken good care of her and showed her nothing but kindness, she knew that Barney had not loved her back in the same way. How could he, when his own dearest love was thousands of miles away, probably still yearning for her darling Barney and suffering bitter-sweet thoughts of this wonderful man, whom she had adored more than any other, and who for reasons she might never know, had broken her heart and her life.

It had been a tragedy; a cruel and sorry business that only the gods could have prevented – at least, that was what Barney always claimed.

‘I’m sorry I had to use the key to let myself in,’ Adam explained. ‘I did knock a few times, but no one answered. You obviously didn’t hear me.’

‘No need to apologise,’ Lucy chided. ‘The key was given so you could use it whenever necessary. It was necessary on this occasion, so we’ll hear no more about it.’

‘It’s no wonder we didn’t hear you at the door,’ Mary remarked good-naturedly. ‘Mother was too busy having a go at me, laying down the law and trying to fit me up with a man who was kind enough to return her handbag.’

‘Dear, dear!’ With an aside wink, Adam tutted loudly. ‘Interfering again, is she? Mind you, I can’t say I blame her.’

With her sound and wary experience of men, Lucy could tell the wheat from the chaff. Mary, on the other hand, was more trusting and less worldly-wise. The lass was not what you might call beautiful, but she was a good-looking young woman all the same, with a heart of gold and a great deal to offer. Adam had no doubt but that she would make some man a loving and loyal wife one of these days.

With Mary gone, Lucy bade Adam sit in the chair opposite her. ‘Have you done what I asked?’ she said in a low voice.

He nodded. ‘I have. I drove straight up to Liverpool early yesterday and went to see him at his house.’

Lucy gave a long, deep sigh. ‘Thank you. I knew I could rely on you.’ Her eyes clouded with tears, she asked next, ‘What did he say?’

Adam was reluctant to disappoint her. ‘He was surprised to hear from me. I mean, it’s been a good few years, hasn’t it?’

She nodded. ‘Nigh on twenty, plus there’s been the war and all. And is he well?’

‘None too bad, yes.’

‘What was his answer?’

The man had no choice but to relay the truth. ‘Sorry, Lucy. Much as he would love to see you again, he can’t visit. At least not yet.’

Lucy was dismayed at the news. ‘Oh Adam, why not?’ Disappointment shook her voice. ‘Why can’t he come down here?’

Adam explained: ‘He’s been ill for some time, see – bronchitis and some sort of complication, like pleurisy. He’s only now beginning to come through it. He’s not as young as he used to be, think on. None of us are.’

Lucy nodded her understanding. ‘He can’t help being ill, I suppose,’ she said.

‘But he sends his regards and says you’re to take care of yourself, and he promises to come and visit at the first opportunity.’ Fishing in his pocket, Adam handed her an envelope. ‘He asked me to give you this.’

Taking the envelope, Lucy tore it open and took out the letter, which she read aloud:

My dearest Lucy,

How wonderful to hear from you, after all these long years. I hope you are well, and that you’re being your usual self … living life to the full, the brave young woman I remember from my days as a doctor.

I don’t need to tell you how sorry I was to hear about Barney’s death. Like you, I will never forget him, or what he did. When he begged me to keep his secret, I wrestled with my conscience but God help me, I could not refuse him.

Over the years, I have often thought of Barney, and his impossible situation, but I have never regretted doing what I did; nor I imagine did he.

Take care of yourself, Lucy my dear, and when I’m well enough, I promise I will come and visit. It will be just the tonic I need, I’m sure.

May I say, I was most pleased and surprised to see Adam Chives; your dear friend who, as I understand it, is never far from your side … as ever.

Best wishes. May God bless you both,

Raymond Lucas

Lying back in the chair, Lucy closed her eyes. For a long moment she remained silent.

‘Lucy!’ Adam knew she was bitterly disappointed. ‘He will visit – he said so, and as I recall, he was always a man of his word.’

‘I know.’ She opened her eyes, which were bright with tears. ‘Poor Raymond. I don’t doubt he’s had his own fair share of problems, but oh, it would have been so good to see him.’ She paused, suddenly exhausted. ‘Jamie …’ she whispered.

Concerned, Adam touched her on the hand. ‘Are you all right, lass?’

‘It’s brought everything back, that’s all.’ Needing to reassure him, she gave her brightest smile, and for the briefest moment he saw her as she had been all those years ago – young and vibrant; hardworking and so generous of heart.