Josephine Cox Sunday Times Bestsellers Collection

I can imagine you reading this letter now, and being torn in two by it, and I am deeply sorry for that. You may pass the letter to Vicky, or you may dispose of it, and she will never know. Please, Leonard, don’t be rash in your judgement.

We saw what happened, you and I, and we know what pain it caused both Barney and the family. Surely, in your heart you must accept that it is their right to be made aware of the facts.

I have enclosed my address here. Please let me know what you decide,

Yours, with fondest memories,

Lucy

Shaken by what he had just read, Leonard made no move for what seemed an age. After a while, he read the letter again, and again, until every word was burned into his mind. ‘I can’t tell her,’ he murmured. ‘How can I hurt her like that? How can I tell Barney’s children that they deserted their father when he was so desperately ill?’ A great burst of rage surged through him; slamming his fist on the arm of the chair he cried out, ‘I CAN’T DO IT TO THEM! I WON’T! DO YOU HEAR ME, LUCY? I WON’T HURT THEM LIKE THAT!’

Taking the envelope addressed to Vicky, he crumpled it in his hand. When, emotionally broken, he bent his head and began to sob, the crumpled letter slipped from his grasp and fell to the ground, and as it did so, the door opened and there stood Vicky, alerted by his cries and looking shocked to see him so upset.

Before he could prepare himself, she had walked towards him, on the way recovering the crumpled envelope from the floor. ‘What is it, Leonard?’ she asked worriedly. ‘I heard you cry out. What’s wrong? Has something happened? Is it Ronnie?’ Of all her children, it was always Ronnie she worried about the most.

Realising there was no way back, Leonard looked up with haggard eyes. ‘I’m so sorry, my dear. So terribly sorry.’ Holding out the letter, he pleaded forlornly, ‘Read it. Read them both, and I hope you can find the generosity of heart to forgive me.’

Confused and anxious, she took the letter from him, and as she prepared to read it, he could see his whole life slipping away.

As Vicky read Lucy’s words, a sense of horror came over her. When she had finished reading, she looked at Leonard in disbelief, her face set like stone. She said not a word, and her expression gave nothing away.

She walked to the table, where she set down the letter addressed to herself and with slow, measured movements straightened the envelope so it was readable.

Leonard watched her open it and read the letter. With a broken cry, she leaned forward, hands on the table, eyes closed and her whole body seeming to tremble in shock. Lucy’s words were emblazoned on her soul …

‘he never stopped loving them … he talked of them, and longed for them, and his heart remained broken up to the day he lost his fight to live …’

Her pain was crippling. ‘I didn’t know,’ she sobbed and gasped over and over. ‘I didn’t know, I didn’t know. Dear God, we none of us knew!’

For one aching moment Leonard was tempted to go to her and hold her. But his instincts warned him against it. Instead he watched and prayed that she might understand the reason why he had deceived her for so long.

After a time she collected both letters and, without a glance at him, walked across the room and out of the door. Then she was gone, leaving him alone and afraid. ‘What have I done?’ he whispered. ‘Dear God, what have I done?’

Afraid for her, afraid for the family, and for his part in their lives, he went after her.

As he came out onto the verandah, he saw her, some short distance down the garden, leaning against a tree, bent double as she sobbed his name. ‘Why did you do it, Barney?’ Her broken voice echoed in the still night air. ‘Why did you send us away … why did you make us hate you, when all the time, all we ever wanted was to be with you?’ The sobbing became uncontrollable. ‘Oh Barney! Barney! Why didn’t you tell me?’

‘Vicky?’ Unsure and anxious, Leonard approached her. ‘Barney did it because he didn’t want to hurt you. I made him a promise not to tell. I’m sorry it had to be this way. We’ll get through this, you and me, and the children …’

He stopped in his tracks as she turned to look at him; in the light from the verandah he was shocked to see such raw anger on her face. As she spoke, slowly and with cold precision, he knew the hatred she felt for him. ‘You let me think bad things of him. You took me away, when he needed me most.’

‘No! Listen to me, Vicky. It wasn’t what I wanted – it was Barney’s wish. He made me promise. He did it to save you the pain of seeing him suffer. He knew what it would be like for you …’

Shaking her head, she gave the saddest smile. ‘All that time, you knew, and you never told me, because if you had, you knew I would go back. And you didn’t want that, did you?’ Her damning words froze his heart. ‘As long as I live, I will never forgive you.’

Brushing by him, she returned to the house, packed an overnight bag, collected her car keys and passed him on her way out without a word or glance.

All she could see was Barney. At that moment he filled her heart and soul; there was no room for anyone else, especially the man who had kept her from him, when Barney desperately needed her.

As she drove away, Leonard called after her. She didn’t hear him. Instead, all she could hear was Barney calling out to her; Barney in pain; Barney left behind, his entire family gone forever.

She needed to hold him, to tell him she was there, that he was not alone. But it was too late. Barney was gone, and she had never had the chance to say a proper goodbye.

Another thought crossed her mind. The children! However was she to tell them this devastating news!

Chapter 13 (#ulink_33810bb5-9538-58f6-a616-a2c405f7e5e6)

IT WAS 8.15 A.M., the morning of 4 January 1955.

The streets of Liverpool were still fairly quiet, some shops were not yet open and only the keenest of shoppers had braved the bitter cold, to catch the early sales bargains.

Warm and cosy inside the offices of Bridget’s empire, Amy and Bridget had been up since the early hours. On a day when the offices were still closed and there was no one to interrupt them, this was the perfect time for the two women to go through the books and prepare them for the accountant.

Having already been ensconced in the office for almost two hours, Bridget was ready for refreshment. Stretching and groaning, she leaned away from the desk. ‘I think we’ll down tools for a while, Amy me darling,’ she said now. ‘It’s been a long two hours, and the old bones are threatening to seize up.’

Pushing the ledger away, she gave Amy one of her winning smiles. ‘I’m ready for a drink, so I am.’

‘I couldn’t agree more.’ Getting out of her chair, Amy began her way across the room. ‘Fancy a nice cup of tea?’

Bridget was horrified. ‘Have ye lost your mind? It’s not tea or coffee I’m needing. It’s a drop o’ the good stuff I’m after. It’s in the top drawer of the filing cabinet, same as always. An’ don’t be sparing with it neither.’

When it came, Bridget took a tiny sip, then another longer one. ‘Ah sure, there’s nothing like a wee dram to warm the cockles,’ she said, smacking her lips. ‘Unless it’s a randy man with a trim body and no clothes on.’

Grinning like the Cheshire Cat, she went on to tell the bemused Amy, ‘Did I ever tell you about the time me and Oliver found a quiet spot in the countryside? Well now, he got to feeling frisky, so we climbed into the back of his car … and ye know there’s not much room there at all.’

Amy couldn’t help but chuckle. ‘Honestly, when will you ever grow up? Don’t you think you’re too old to be rolling about in the back of a car?’

‘You’re right, and I won’t be doing it again, I can promise ye that! Only the dear Lord knows how I ached from top to bottom for weeks after. But y’see, poor Oliver was so frustrated. He tried Gawd knows how many times to get his leg over, and well – you’ve never seen such a carry-on in all yer life! First off, he got his foot caught between the front seats, then he couldn’t get it out …’

She could hardly talk for laughing. ‘When I say that, I’m not just referring to his foot, though that was the divil of a problem, so it was. No, I mean he couldn’t get his little pecker out neither, whichever way he turned.’

Amy tutted. ‘It’s a wonder you weren’t arrested.’

‘Ah, but that’s not all.’ Taking another healthy measure of her good Irish whiskey, Bridget got a fit of the giggles. ‘When we realised it was no use, we got out of the car and laid on the grass. Within minutes we were fleeing for our lives, him with his trousers round his ankles, and me with me drawers in me hand.’

Amy could hardly contain her curiosity. ‘What happened? Did the police come along and find you?’

‘Oh no! It weren’t the police. We were just getting down to business, if ye know what I mean, when we must have disturbed a nest of wasps. Sure I never ran so fast in all me life, and as for poor Oliver, he got bit twice on his dangly bits. Jaysus! They came after him like he was their next meal. And him screaming and shouting like a banshee. Never mind that I was falling behind and likely to be got any minute. As far as that bleddy coward was concerned, I could get stung to Hell and back!’

Amy almost fell off the chair laughing. ‘I always knew you were mad as a hatter,’ she roared. ‘Whatever will you get up to next, I wonder?’

‘Well, I can tell ye one thing. Next time he feels amorous, he can bugger off.’

‘So, does that mean you’ve finished with him?’

‘Oh no! Sure, I never said that. But it’s the last time he manhandles me in the back seat of a car. And as for pulling up in the hedgerow and rollicking in the long grass, he can forget it.’

She took another helping of her drink. ‘He can have his wicked way any time he wants, but I told him, I did. “I’m a lady with taste,” I said. “From now on, it’s a bed covered in silk sheets and a feather pillow under me, or it’s nothing at all”.’