Classic Bestsellers from Josephine Cox: Bumper Collection

Emily was not deterred. ‘Why are you so hard on her, Mam? That’s not like you at all! Didn’t she used to be your friend?’

Aggie blushed with shame. ‘Aye well, happen I might be a bit hard on her, but she’s been hard on you, and I don’t tek kindly to that.’

There were times when Emily had the same stubborn streak in her as Aggie. ‘I still intend going,’ she decided. ‘I’m gonna pluck up my courage. I need to know if she’s heard from John.’

‘Even if she has, what meks you think she’ll tell you?’

Emily was already at the door. ‘Why shouldn’t she tell me?’

Just then the child began crying again. ‘That’s why!’ Gesturing towards the stairway, Aggie reminded her, ‘Lizzie refuses to believe the child is John’s. She thinks you’ve been up to no good with some other man, and that you’re trying to blame her nephew.’ She chuckled. ‘Mother hen protecting her chick, that’s what she is. My God! The way you feel about John, who else’s child could it be? The whole world knows it’s his, yet that old besom won’t have it no way!’

Rolling her eyes to heaven she finished angrily, ‘It’ll be a damned good thing when he does come back. Then she’ll know well enough!’

Emily remained silent, but was grateful when her mother did not notice the guilt and shame in her face. ‘I’d best be off now, Mam.’ Rushing off upstairs, she felt the tears smarting her eyes. She hated herself for deceiving her mammy. But the truth about little Cathleen’s beginnings was far more hurtful and damaging. She dreaded John’s reaction; for the hundredth time, she recalled that awful summer day, of such hope and happiness, ending in a darkness that had engulfed her for many a long month. Would he understand?

A short time later, well wrapped up and carrying the child in a shawl-sling, Emily began the walk across the fields to Lizzie’s pretty cottage.

On the way she stopped several times to put the child down; she held her hand and encouraged her to walk. But though Cathleen’s sturdy little legs stumbled a clear path through the snowy grass, they soon tired, and it wasn’t long before Emily had to carry her again. ‘You’re taking advantage of my good nature,’ she teased her breathlessly. ‘I reckon it should be you carrying me!’

Just as Aggie had feared, Lizzie was not exactly pleased to see her. ‘What is it you want from me?’ Holding the door open just so far, she peered at Emily through suspicious eyes. ‘I’ve not heard from him, if that’s what yer after.’

Emily reasoned with her. ‘I don’t want us to be enemies, Lizzie. Please may I come inside?’

‘What for?’

‘To talk, that’s all.’

The woman scowled. ‘We’ve nowt to talk about.’

Sensing a weakening, Emily persisted. ‘Please, Lizzie. I’ve carried little Cathleen nearly all the way here, and my arms are aching. Besides, we’re both thirsty.’

Glancing from one to the other, Lizzie saw how the child was smiling at her, and it touched her troubled old heart. ‘All right, but only for a minute. Yer can have a rest and a drink, then I’ll thank you to leave.’ She opened the door wider. ‘Either come in or stay out. It’s too damned cold to be standing here all day with the door wide open!’

With a muttered apology, Emily darted inside. She waited until the other woman shut the door. ‘Go on!’ Gesturing for Emily to go ahead, Lizzie told her, ‘You’ve been here with John often enough to know the way by now.’

Feeling uncomfortable under Lizzie’s scowl, Emily led the way to the back-parlour.

Lizzie followed her in. ‘Sit yersel’ down,’ she ordered. ‘Now then, what does the infant want to drink?’ She gave a grudging look at the beautiful little girl, and deliberately closed her heart against any feelings of warmth.

‘A drop of milk would suit fine,’ Emily answered as she sat down in the big squashy chair by the fire. ‘Thanks, Lizzie.’

‘And I expect you’ll be wanting a cuppa tea, will yer?’

Emily nodded appreciatively. ‘Yes, I’d love one. If that’s all right?’

The old woman grunted. ‘I wouldn’t be asking if it weren’t!’ With that she disappeared into the scullery, only to return a few minutes later with a mug of milk for the child, and a drop of lukewarm tea for Emily. ‘It’s only been made a few minutes,’ she explained, ‘but it’s warm enough to thaw your bones.’

Emily took a sip from the teacup. It was all she could do not to grimace, for the tea was like dishwater. ‘It’s fine, thanks, Lizzie,’ she lied handsomely.

‘Fine or not, it’ll have to do!’ retorted the woman. ‘I don’t intend mekking a fresh pot just yet.’ Pointing an accusing finger at Emily’s feet, she tutted, ‘Look at the state of your feet! By! They must be frozen.’ Emily’s two ankles were bright pink. ‘Good God, lass! Have yer no decent shoes to yer name?’

Instinctively pulling her thick skirt over her feet to hide them, Emily told her, ‘I don’t seem to feel the cold, and besides, I didn’t walk through the snow just now. I came along by the hedges. I’ve got a pair of boots at home but I can’t stand to wear them. I thought you knew that?’

‘Hmh!’ Scowling her disapproval, Lizzie told her, ‘I might know it, but that don’t mean to say I think it’s right.’ Waving her hand in a gesture of impatience, she reminded Emily, ‘You said you were thirsty. So drink up and be off with yer. I’ve other things to do than sit here wasting time with the likes of you.’

Emily had to say it. ‘Why have you turned against me, Lizzie?’

‘You know why!’

‘Is it because of John?’

The woman glared at her. ‘It’s not so much because of John, as what you’ve told folks.’ She shifted her gaze to the child. ‘John’s been branded with being the father of this little ’un.’ Now as she stared Emily in the eye, her gaze hardened. ‘It’s a lie and well you know it. John would never have got you with child and then run off. He thought too much of you to do that!’

Emily defended herself. ‘I was not the one to spread that rumour.’

‘Huh! Well, somebody did, because it’s common knowledge now.’

‘Lizzie, can I ask a question?’

‘Yer can ask if yer like, but I might not answer.’

‘Have you heard from John lately?’

The old woman shook her head. ‘Not that it’s any of your business, but no, I haven’t.’

Emily’s heart sank. ‘I haven’t heard a single word since he’s been gone.’

‘Huh! I’m not surprised. He’s probably heard you’ve given yourself to some other man and tried to lay the blame at his door. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if he never sets foot in these parts again, thanks to you!’

Emily was cut deep by what Lizzie had said. ‘I never gave myself to anyone!’ she protested. ‘It’s John I love. There’s never been anyone else for me, and never will be.’

‘Liar!’

Emily shook her head. ‘No, Lizzie. It’s true. John has always been the only one.’

‘So, yer still claiming the child is John’s, are yer?’ By now Lizzie was on her feet and staring down at Emily with quick, accusing eyes.

Emily stood up. ‘No, Lizzie, I’m not claiming that.’

‘Oh, so now you’re saying the child is not John’s? By! Your story changes by the minute.’

‘Please. Listen to me.’ Emily confessed to as much as she dared. ‘I’m telling you now. Little Cathleen is not John’s, and I never said she was. I want you to believe that.’

But Lizzie was past listening. ‘I’m not about to believe anything you say, young lady. Besides, I thought I asked you to leave?’

Emily had things to get off her chest before she left. ‘I swear to you, Lizzie, John has always been the only man I love, and he still is. But if he doesn’t want me, I’ll understand and accept it.’

‘Will yer now?’ In spite of her harsh retort, Lizzie was moved by the sincerity in Emily’s voice, and when the tears welled up in the girl’s eyes, she was half-inclined to believe her. But there was still the question. ‘If, as you say and I know, the child is not John’s, then whose child is she?’