Lovers and Liars (11 page)

For one mad moment it was on the tip of Emily’s tongue to blurt out the awful truth, about how her uncle had attacked her in the barn and got her with child. But then she thought of her mother and grandfather and the consequences of her words. And she could not take the risk of the truth leaking out. ‘I’m sorry, Lizzie. I can’t tell you,’ she finished lamely.

The other woman’s moment of compassion melted away in the heat of anger. ‘No, o’ course yer can’t!’ Stepping back, she flung open the door. ‘Yer can’t tell me, because it’s too shameful. But I know well enough what happened! While John were away yer went with some man – that’s the sorry truth, ain’t it? And now yer too ashamed to give up his name, or to admit that you could hardly wait until my John’s back were turned afore yer went behind the cowsheds with somebody else. And now yer come here and tell me that John is the only man you ever want.’ Disgust trembled in her voice. ‘You’re a disgrace, that’s what you are.’

Emily tried to calm her. ‘But it’s true, Lizzie. And I need John now, more than you could ever know.’

The other woman laughed out loud. ‘Well, o’ course you do! You need him to raise another man’s child – a child that belongs to Danny Williams, I shouldn’t wonder. God knows he’s at the farm often enough, hanging about, trailing after yer like a dog on a lead. Oh, don’t think it ain’t been noticed! And now you’ve had your little fling, you’ve got your sights set higher than a milkman. You need a father for the child, some fool to take care of you, and I dare say you reckon our John will come home a rich man. Well, I’m on to you, lady! And I will not let my John take the blame for what some other man’s done. You’re a shameful little hussy, and John is best rid of yer.’

She took a step forward. ‘If you’ve come to find comfort here, I can tell yer now, you’ll get none! So be off with yer, and yer bastard child, afore I tek it on meself to throw you out!’

Sensing the troubled atmosphere, and frightened by the woman’s anger, little Cathleen began to wail.

Shocked to the core by Lizzie’s vicious outburst, and especially shaken by her belief that Danny was Cathleen’s father, Emily picked up the crying toddler, wrapped her in the shawl, and took her leave.

In the circumstances, it was all she could do.

As Emily and the child disappeared over the snow-covered brow of the hill, Lizzie moved away from the window and for a time just stood there, her head bowed into her hands and her whole body shaking.

A moment later, she had dropped into the chair and was sobbing aloud. It had been a bad thing she’d done in throwing mother and child out into the cold like that. Such harsh behaviour went against her nature.

But as far as she could tell, Emily had given her no choice.

Chapter 5

S
TRIDING ALONG THE
ship’s deck, John made a handsome figure. Taller than when he had first joined the Merchant Navy, he had filled out to become a man of substance. His dark hair was longer; his skin browned by the changing of seasons in the two years and more that he had travelled the high seas. Now, back in Liverpool docks, with money in his pocket and a considerable sum put by, he showed a confidence that had grown with every pay-packet.

‘Where might you be off to, looking so full of yourself?’ Leaning over the railings, the fat, bearded Captain puffed on his pipe and gave John a wink. ‘From the look on your face, I’d say there was a woman involved somewhere along the way?’ He gave another, cheekier wink. ‘Is she worth it? That’s what you need to ask yourself.’

John’s rich blue eyes lit up. ‘Oh, she’s worth it all right, sir,’ he answered happily. ‘And I can’t wait to see her again.’ To hold Emily in his arms and to see her face when he showed her the cache of hard-earned money that would rid her of Clem Jackson forever – it was all he had dreamed of these past two years and more. A shadow crossed his mind as he wondered why he had never received any replies to his letters; he shivered, and it disappeared.

‘Well, I for one am sorry to see you go, young fella, and that’s a fact. You’re a better worker than most, and you don’t cause trouble. That’s the kind of a man I like on my ship.’

John thanked him. ‘I’m not a natural sailor,’ he admitted. ‘I prefer the solid earth beneath my feet.’

‘Maybe you do, son. But the earth can give way beneath your feet as well as any ship. You take it from me.’ The Captain had lived a long time and learned many things that made him thankful to live out his life in the middle of the oceans. ‘Besides, on board a ship you come to know your enemies. I can’t say the same for the big wide world, where you never know who’s creeping up on you – or from which direction.’

‘I dare say you’re right.’ During his time aboard, John had come to like and respect this old tar. ‘But I’m willing to take my chances.’

‘Hmh! She really
must
be worth it then.’

‘She is.’

‘Best o’ luck then, son.’

‘Thank you, sir, and the same to you.’ Eager now to be gone, John bade the Captain goodbye. ‘I’d best be on my way. I’ve a considerable journey to make yet.’ That particular journey was long overdue, and he was desperately impatient to see Emily.

Sucking on his old pipe, the Captain joked, ‘A few days with your little woman, and you’ll be ready for off again.’

John shook his head. ‘Sorry, but I’ll be staying put this time round.’

The Captain pondered on that. ‘Oh, but that’s what they all say, and they always come back, for one reason or another.’ He gave another of his cheeky winks. ‘I’ve an idea you’ll be coming with us next time round. And don’t forget, I always like to turn around inside a month, so I hope to be away by the first week in April. I’d like to take you with me. What d’you say?’

‘Nothing doing, Captain,’ John assured him. ‘You see, I’ve a wedding to go to.’

‘A wedding, eh? Still, I’m sure she wouldn’t mind seeing you off for a while, especially if I up your wages?’

John thanked him, but, ‘No offence, sir, but I wouldn’t care if I never saw a ship’s deck again. I’m happiest with my two feet on dry land, the rabbits in my sights, and the sound of birdsong in my ears.’

The Captain laughed. ‘A country lad at heart, more’s the pity.’

Smiling up at him, John doffed his seaman’s cap, which he then threw into the air, laughing aloud as it splashed into the sea. ‘Thanks for everything,’ he called, quickening his steps. ‘Fair weather and good luck to you and your ship.’

Behind him, the Captain waved. ‘We’ll still be here if you change your mind!’ he called. But John was already out of earshot, running like the wind along the quayside and his heart tapping out a dance inside his chest. ‘I’m home, Emily!’ he murmured. ‘I’ve come back for you. Just like I promised.’

First stop was the quayside barber’s for a shave. After that a visit to the local tailor’s for a new set of clothes.

‘My shoes will have to do,’ John told the lanky assistant, ‘but I’ll need everything else from top to bottom.’ He didn’t intend going back to Emily looking like some tramp off the streets. ‘I don’t want to be spending all my savings on clothes,’ he warned, ‘but I’ll not be wanting rubbish neither.’

The assistant gave him a thin smile. ‘Follow me, sir. I’ll have you fixed up in no time at all.’ He led John to the back shelves, where a multitude of shirts, collars and cravats were all arranged in neat piles. ‘You’ll not find better anywhere,’ he declared with pride. ‘What size are you, sir?’

He then swept his arm to encompass another wall where hung a selection of jackets in every size and shape. ‘Try them on,’ he suggested. ‘You’re bound to find one to fit. The mirror is there, on the wall.’ Pointing to the four large drawers beneath the shelves, he added, ‘I shall find whatever else you need in those drawers there.’

With that he produced his measuring tape with a flourish and gazed critically at John’s garments.

It wasn’t long before John was holding a parcel, neatly wrapped in brown paper and tied with string, knotted into a helpful little handle so he could carry it easily. He paid with a large, white £5 note and left the shop with a spring in his step.

Next stop was the local inn, for a well-earned drink to cool his throat, and a bath to take away the smell of the last couple of weeks at sea.

‘Will you be wanting one towel or two?’ The landlord of the Sailor’s Rest Hotel was of the same ilk as the old captain; ruddy of feature and round of belly, with a pipe in his mouth and a full beard just like the King’s.

‘How big are your towels?’

The landlord looked him over, thinking what a fine body of a man he was. ‘Big enough, I reckon.’

‘In that case one should do,’ John replied heartily.

Reaching under the counter, the landlord drew out a towel and suggested, ‘Take a look, pal. You’ll maybe want two after all.’ It was extra money in his own pocket.

Opening out the folded towel, John scrutinised it. Albeit hard and scratchy, it was a fair size, and he said so.

‘And you needn’t be examining it for lice!’ the landlord advised. ‘But if you do find one, that’ll be an extra tuppence.’ At that the other drinkers in the hotel bar laughed and chuckled, before sinking their teeth into their jugs of ale.

‘I’ll take the bath now if you don’t mind,’ John said. ‘It’s a long way from Liverpool to Blackburn, and I’ll not be wasting no time here if I can help it.’

‘Got a sweetheart waiting, have you?’ This was a small voice from the end of the bar; its owner a shrunken little man with big watery eyes, and a smile like a mischievous leprechaun.

As John looked to see who was speaking, the little man shuffled to his side. ‘Can’t wait to see your Emily, eh?’

Delighted to see him, John slid an arm round the old fellow. ‘Hello, Archie!’ He and this kind old man had spent many an hour talking during that last trip. ‘You old rascal. I looked for you aboard, and couldn’t catch sight of you no-how. And here you are, propping up the nearest bar. I should have known this is where you’d be.’

‘You’ll have a drink with me afore you go, won’t you, son?’ Archie’s eyes clouded over. ‘Being as this is my last trip.’

Knowing how upset he was at not sailing away again, John didn’t have the heart to refuse. ‘I’ll be glad to,’ he answered. Beckoning the landlord, he ordered, ‘A pint jug for my mate here … and a half-jug for me.’ The last thing he wanted was to be smelling of ale when he met up with Emily.

The landlord set about the order. ‘Will you be wanting soap?’

‘What?’ John had momentarily forgotten the gist of their previous conversation.

‘I said, will you be wanting soap? For your bath?’ He placed the two jugs of ale within John’s reach.

Collecting the drinks and holding them in his fists, John was astonished at such a question. ‘O’ course I will! How can I wash without soap?’

‘Oh, you’d be surprised at how many folks do,’ came the answer.

‘Well, I’ll have the soap if you please.’ Turning to Archie, he suggested, ‘We’ll sit at the table over there. It’ll be easier to talk if we’re away from the bar.’

It was a mystery to him why folks always wanted to linger round the bar when there were perfectly comfortable tables and chairs to be got. But sometimes a man needed to stay upright, near to companions, and close to the booze. Once or twice, when they’d docked at some foreign port to offload the cargo, he himself had been in that same situation – lost and lonely, and in need of something to help spirit him home, across those endless waters to Salmesbury, Potts End Farm – and his beloved Emily.

‘Will you be wanting a full bar, or half a bar?’ The landlord’s voice cut across his thoughts.

John was bemused. ‘Half a bar of what exactly?’

‘Soap, o’ course!’

‘Oh, I think half a bar should do it.’

‘And will you be wanting your water hot, cold or lukewarm?’

‘Well, I’ll not want it cold, that’s for sure, and I’ll not want it to be scalding the skin off my back, so I’ll have it just above lukewarm, if that’s all right with you.’ He thought the landlord to be either a bit dim, or cunning as a fox. ‘And how much is all this gonna cost me?’

‘All depends.’

‘On what?’

‘Whether you want a full bath o’ water, or half a bath full?’

Growing frustrated, John set the jugs of ale on the bar. ‘Look, I’m not a difficult man. All I want is a full-sized towel, half a bar of soap and a bath of water, not scalding and not ice-cold. So, how much will that run me?’

‘And will that be a bath half-full, or a bath filled to the brim?’

‘A bath filled three-quarters,’ John answered with a little rise of laughter. ‘If it’s half-filled, I’ll not get a proper wash, will I? And if it’s filled to the brim, half the water will spill out the minute I set foot in it.’

To his consternation, the landlord went carefully through his list again. ‘Right. I reckon that’s done it.’ He put down his pencil. ‘It’ll be ready inside o’ twenty minutes.’

‘You still haven’t said what it’ll cost me.’

‘Let me see now.’ Once more he consulted his list, muttering all the while, until he raised his head. ‘That’ll be sixpence halfpenny.’

‘What’s the halfpenny for?’ John asked, highly amused.

The landlord gave a wink. ‘For the girl who fills the bath, o’ course.’ Leaning forward he whispered, ‘For another tuppence, she’ll wash your back,
if
you know what I mean?’ His bushy eyebrows went up like two pheasants let loose.

John’s answer was short and sweet. ‘I’ll manage to wash my own back, thank you. Just get it all ready inside of twenty minutes, will you? I’ve an itch to be on my way soon as ever.’

As he and Archie crossed the room to their table, John was not surprised to hear a shout from the landlord. ‘That’ll be another halfpenny!’

John swung round. ‘What for?’

‘Well, if you’re gonna wash your own back, you’ll be needing a scrubbing brush – unless you’ve an arm long enough to reach your backside?’

When John was lost for words, he promptly wrote it down on his list.

‘He’s a crafty old bugger is that one!’ Grateful to sit down, Archie dropped himself into the hard, wooden chair. His feet were aching, and these days he found it hard to stand for too long at a time.