The Journey

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.

‘So tell me, Lucy, what was the real reason behind your need to see him?’

‘What d’you mean?’ Lucy demanded.

Adam knew she could be wily. ‘What I mean is this: are you ill and not telling?’

‘If I was ill, you’d soon know about it,’ she lied. Carefully choosing her words, she went on, ‘You remember how it was all those years ago, don’t you?’

‘Of course I remember.’ Looking away, he saw it all in his mind’s eye. He had often wondered whether, if he had been put through the same test as Barney, he could have been as strong. ‘I remember it all,’ he whispered. ‘How could I forget?’

‘And you recall what a valued friend Dr Lucas was?’ Her voice shook. Oh, the memories! She swallowed hard and went on: ‘I just thought it might be nice to renew an old friendship.’

The truth was, Lucy had other reasons for wanting him here, but she didn’t want to worry anyone. Not yet. Although the doctors hereabouts were fine, experienced men, she could not bring herself to trust them for something this serious. If there was one man who would tell her the truth, it was Raymond Lucas.

‘I’m getting older, Adam. As each day passes, the memories become more vivid.’ She drew herself up. ‘I need to thank Dr Lucas for what he did. I want to see him, that’s all … before it’s too late.’

Alarmed, the little man looked her in the eye. ‘Are you sure there’s something you’re not telling me?’

‘Such as what?’

Dismissing her question he asked, ‘What exactly did Dr Nolan say to you when he saw you at the surgery last week?’

She tutted. ‘I’ve already told you. He said I needed to slow down. That I was exhausted.’

‘And that’s all? Nothing else?’

Tutting again, Lucy snapped, ‘Stop fretting! I’ve already told you, I’m fit as a fiddle – for an old ’un anyway.’ She chuckled, ‘If they want rid of me, they’ll have to shoot me first.’

There was a lengthy silence, charged with things unsaid. The bond between them was deep.

Even though the passage of their lives was already well run, there was nothing Adam Chives wanted more than to make Lucy Davidson his wife. He longed to take care of her, spoil her, hold her tight when she was sad and laugh with her when she was happy. To be there when she went to sleep and waiting beside her when she awoke; to share every precious moment of her life. That was all he had wanted for a long, long time.

Lucy knew it had been on the tip of his tongue to propose to her. She recognised the signs, the twinkle in his eye and the ache in his voice, and she had to disappoint him yet again. ‘I don’t want you worrying about me, old friend. You just need to remember, I’m no longer a spring chicken – and the same goes for you.’ Sometimes her bones ached until she thought they would seize up altogether, and on occasions, when she had walked with her stick too far, her fingers curled round the handle and would not let go.

Reaching out, she took hold of his hand. ‘I’m a lucky woman to have such a friend – the very best friend any woman could ever have.’ Except for Barney, she thought. But then he had been more than a friend. He had been everything to her: friend, hero, lover, soulmate and confidant. All the men in the world rolled into one could never replace her beloved Barney.

Yet she owed this dear man so much. ‘I could never have got through these past years without you.’ She squeezed his hand fondly. ‘You have to believe that.’

Gazing at her, his heart flooding with all kinds of emotions, he said gruffly, ‘You know I’ll always be here for you, whenever you need me.’

His heartfelt promise touched her deeply. ‘Oh, Adam! So many secrets,’ she murmured regretfully, ‘so much pain. Whatever I do, I can’t bring him back. I can’t make it all better. Sometimes, when I’m in my bed with the sleep lying heavy on me, the awful memories come flooding back, and I think about Barney’s loved ones.’ She lowered her gaze. ‘I should tell them, shouldn’t I?’

Adam sighed deeply. ‘You must follow your heart on that one, Lucy, my lass. I can’t advise. No one can.’

‘If only I knew whether it would make matters better or worse.’ Her voice broke. ‘God help me, old friend, I don’t know what to do.’

‘You should ask yourself: if you were to tell them, would it be to ease their burden … or your own?’

Lucy had already asked herself that same question many times. ‘I don’t think anything could ease my burden,’ she answered thoughtfully, ‘but it pains me badly, to think they may never know what sort of man he really was.’

Sometimes the weight of it all was unbearable. ‘For the rest of their lives, they’ll remember what happened; they’ll think of it and the bitterness will rise. They can never see the truth. They’ll see it the way Barney wanted them to see it.’ She gulped back the threatening tears. ‘That’s a terrible thing, you know, Adam. It isn’t fair to them, and it isn’t fair to Barney.’

Weighing it up in his mind, Adam slowly nodded his head. ‘You must do what your heart tells you, my darling,’ he reiterated kindly. ‘Like I say, no one can advise you on that, though once the truth is out, there’ll be no going back. You do realise that, don’t you?’

‘Only too well.’ The words sailed out on a long, quiet sigh. ‘What would it do to them? Would they blame themselves? Would they blame me … or Barney? And could they ever find it in their hearts to forgive?’