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Authors: Josephine Cox

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BOOK: Lovers and Liars
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‘Oh, I can find them all right.’ She scowled. ‘I can find any number who’ll take it on, but they think because I’m a woman they can charge me twice the going rate.’ Taking a deep breath, she let it out in anger. ‘Before they take advantage of me, the barge can rot where she is!’

Archie laughed. ‘Fighting talk, eh?’ He’d always liked a lively lass.

One swift glance from John silenced him. ‘How far away is this barge?’ he asked the young woman.

‘She’s laid up about a mile along the canal. Once she was badly holed, we had to get her out of the water a bit quick. Thank goodness there were men on hand at the time.’

‘How long ago was that?’

‘A year … eighteen months or thereabouts.’

‘Can you take me there?’

Visibly relieved, she thanked him. ‘I can take you right now,’ she said. ‘The men are just about finished offloading and I’m ready to pull out.’

As they strolled towards the barge, John introduced himself. ‘I’m John Hanley,’ he said, ‘and this is my old friend, Archie.’

‘Hey!’ Archie’s feathers were ruffled. ‘Not so much of the old!’

The girl shook them each by the hand. ‘I go by the name of Rosie Taylor,’ she said. ‘My father is Lonnie Taylor, of Taylor’s Carriers.’ Her smile was one of relief. ‘If you can put that second barge back on the canal, we’ll both be very grateful to you.’

Archie was curious. ‘How old are you, to be taking on the responsibility of a business?’

‘Older than you think.’

‘And how old is that?’

‘You’re a cheeky devil!’

‘Born like it,’ he chuckled. ‘So, how old?’

‘You tell me.’

‘Eighteen, mebbe nineteen?’

‘I’m twenty-two next birthday.’

She was the same age as himself, John noted. Archie was about to ask another question, when John gave him one of his warning glances. ‘Right then!’ the little man finished the conversation. ‘We’d best get on.’

When she ushered them into the barge, both men were impressed by the interior. ‘I’ve been on many a ship in my time,’ Archie remarked. ‘This is the first occasion I’ve been on a barge, and I don’t mind telling you, I’m amazed. I always thought they must be too narrow for a man to move about freely, but there’s room aplenty.’

‘People are always surprised at how roomy they are.’ Rosie handed him a cup of sarsaparilla.

‘Given the chance, I could laze about here all day.’ Seating himself on the little green sofa, he supped contentedly at his drink.

John considered the barge to be warm and welcoming, much like Rosie herself, he thought. Moreover, with the little stove, the oblong peg-rug and comfortable furnishings, she had made it a home. ‘It’s a credit to you,’ he said, and meant it.

In no time at all, they arrived at their destination. ‘There she is.’ Pointing to the rotting hull, Rosie slowed the barge.

Manoeuvring the vessel into the bank, she tied it up. ‘Before you offer to repair her, you might like to take stock of the damage.’

All three disembarking, they walked along the towpath to where the barge lay, lopsided, half-hidden by the undergrowth. ‘Careful now!’ Rosie warned. ‘The ground lies a bit swampy just here.’

They were soon up to their ankles in water and mud, with Archie complaining tetchily. ‘I’ll leave you two to get on with it. I’m finding my way to higher ground.’

Rosie smiled as she watched him leave. ‘He’s a character, isn’t he?’

John chuckled. ‘You could say that.’

She drew his attention to the hull. ‘What do you think?’

First he crawled all over the boat. Rosie had been right when she said the hole was huge. The central timbers immediately round the hole had rotted right through and now, after months at the mercy of the elements, there were a number of other timbers in dire need of repair, and some that would have to be replaced.

John’s investigation was thorough and conclusive. Apart from the huge, gaping hole and the damaged timbers, the engine was rusted and the chimney was smashed – but that was easily fixed, he thought. Then there was the difficult task of lifting the whole thing out of the bog, where it had settled deep. As far as he could see, shifting the barge would be no easy matter.

‘So, is she worth repairing?’ Rosie was behind him every step he took.

‘She’ll be good as new,’ he promised. ‘But this is the picture as far as I can tell. First off, you’ll need to buy a whole new batch of timbers. The engine looks to be seized, and the chimney’s smashed to a pulp.’ There was something else too. ‘I’ll need a yard to work in.’

Rosie apologised. ‘We don’t have a yard,’ she told him. ‘And the only decent yards round here are owned by the Armitage brothers.’ She sighed. ‘You saw the feud going on between those two, so you can guess how it is. Even if Jacob Armitage talked his brother Ronnie into letting you use part of one of their buildings, the favour wouldn’t come cheap.’

John wondered if he might be able to repair the barge right here on site. ‘We’d be dependent on the weather, o’ course, but it could be done. Mind you, we’d need to get her to higher ground.’ As he spoke, he walked to the top of the mound.

Rosie walked beside him. ‘I’m sure I could arrange that,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘But before you decide, there’s something I need to tell you.’ She paused, almost afraid to go on. ‘You see, I haven’t been completely honest with you.’

Feeling uneasy, John wanted to know, ‘What is it?’

She hesitated again, before telling him in a rush, ‘These past eighteen months have been awful hard without Dad in charge.’

John sympathised. ‘I can understand that.’

‘I’ve carried on the best I know how, and at last things are picking up, but even then, there isn’t enough money in the pot to pay you for any work you might do.’

‘I’ll do the work,’ he said. ‘You can pay me when you’re able.’

‘That won’t do.’ She was adamant. ‘My father has never owed a penny in his entire life and I wouldn’t want to be the one to let him down. So, if you’re interested, I have a proposition.’

With nothing much as yet to fall back on, John was more than interested. ‘Go on. I’m listening.’

Rosie outlined her plan. ‘If you can put the barge back on the canal, there’s a chance it will double the work. And if it doubles the work, it doubles the income. The trouble is, there’s only me to keep it all going, and according to the doctor, Dad may never work again.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that, Rosie.’ In a strange way he felt as though he’d known this young woman all his life. She was so open and easy to get along with.

Rosie continued, ‘So what I propose is this. If you repair the narrowboat, and come to work alongside me, I won’t pay you in money.’ She wondered how he would react to what she was about to say. ‘Instead, it would make more sense to offer you a partnership … say twenty per cent?’

John refused without hesitation. ‘I can’t accept that. Besides, I thought it was your father’s business. What in God’s name would he have to say about such a crazy idea?’

Rosie wouldn’t let it go. ‘It’s not so crazy if you think about it.’ Brushing aside his protests, she called his attention to the facts. ‘Look. First of all, I’m limping along with only one barge. I can’t meet all the bills, and I can’t borrow because we’ve reached our limit with the bank, so it’s a certainty that before too long I’ll have to call it a day – and that would break Dad’s heart. He’s run this business since he was a lad. Taylor’s Carriers is his pride and joy, and now he’s had to entrust it to me.’ Close to tears, she said quietly, ‘I don’t want to be the one who lets it all fall apart.’

John was deeply moved, but there were still questions to be answered. ‘From what I saw back there, you were offloading a heavy cargo. If you don’t mind me saying, that one job alone must have brought in a pretty penny?’

She gave a small, wry laugh. ‘It’s the only job I’ve had all week,’ she confessed. ‘What’s more, it won’t fetch a pretty penny as you put it, because the Armitage brothers know how to take advantage when somebody’s drowning. The young one, Ronnie, will cut you to the bone, and when you do finally get paid, it barely returns what you’ve spent out in the first place!’

She persisted with her idea. ‘So you see, with the other barge and you together, I know we’ll get more work. Men have little respect for a woman at the helm. A man likes to deal with a man, you should know that.’

John did know that, but, ‘Times are changing,’ he told her.

He thought of Emily and her mother and of how, when Aggie’s husband went off, she and Emily kept Potts End Farm going almost single-handed. He was so proud of Emily. He missed and loved her, and always would. His thoughts went next to his Auntie Lizzie, who had kept a home for him all the time he was growing up. She had worked in all weathers to bring in a few coppers to pay the bills. They were strong women, all of them, and he loved and respected them for it.

Rosie’s voice penetrated his thoughts. ‘Most of the cargo gets shifted on the order of a man, and they don’t like to deal with women, unless like the brothers, they’re trying to get it done on the cheap.’

John could see her point, but, ‘All I know is, your father would not take kindly to you offering me a fifth of his business.’

‘What if he was to agree?’

‘Well now, that might be different.’

‘Consider it done,’ she said. ‘I know Father would be glad for me to have a man helping out, until he gets on his feet again.’

‘I can only agree if the offer of a partnership is equal to the price of the work I do.’

Rosie agreed. ‘Not forgetting that the barge would only lie there and rot away if you didn’t get her up and running again.’

John was adamant. ‘There’ll be no agreement until I talk with your father,’ he said. ‘I’m sure I can persuade him into delaying payment rather than making me a partner of sorts.’

‘I wouldn’t count on it,’ she warned. ‘He’s a stickler for doing the right thing, and the right thing would be to pay his dues in any shape or form that he was able.’

She went to shake hands on it, but John graciously refused. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll get the barge upright and working again, but there’ll be no talk of payment until I’ve spoken with your father.’

Wading through the tangled undergrowth, John was suddenly in the open. Before him lay a great expanse of unkempt land, and right there, in front of his eyes was a tumbledown building. ‘Who owns this land?’ he asked. ‘That building looks to me like it’s been closed up for a good while. Maybe we could get permission to use it.’

Rosie’s answer was like a gift from heaven. ‘My dad knows more about it than I do,’ she said, ‘but from what I understand, this used to be a large, productive farm, part of the estate belonging to one of the gentry hereabouts. Then it was split up and sold off in sections – all bar this one, which includes a cottage, that building, and ten acres of land.’

John was curious. ‘Why wasn’t it sold?’

‘Because it was all left to a lady by the name of Amy Benson. She worked for years up at the local big house – Coram Manor. Had a good position there, so I’m told.’

John was thrilled by the news. ‘My God! It’s exactly what I need. She obviously doesn’t use the barn.’ His excitement grew by the minute. ‘Do you think she’ll sell it, or rent it out?’

Rosie shook her head. ‘Oh, she’s long gone. Eight years ago, maybe nine, she was taken to the Infirmary and never came back.’ Pointing across the fields towards the village, she revealed, ‘She’s over there, poor Amy, at rest in the churchyard.’

‘So who owns all of this now?’

Rosie shrugged her shoulders. ‘Who knows? Some say she had a daughter out of wedlock. Some say she left it all to a niece, who wants to remain anonymous. It seems nobody knows the real truth of it – or if they do, they’re not telling.’

The story had been common gossip round these parts for many years. ‘I understand that Mr Leatherhead, the solicitor, hasn’t been able to locate her, so maybe it was all gossip, after all.’

John was on the point of asking further questions when Archie came at the run from the brow of the hill. ‘JOHN!’ Racing to a halt, he bent his head, put his hands to his knees, and took a long, frantic breath.

‘Easy there, old-timer,’ John said gently. ‘What the devil’s got into you?’

‘It’s a cottage.’ Composing himself, Archie told John: ‘I’ve found a lovely cottage over there. It’s all locked up, but I had a peek inside. Looks champion, it does. Needs a bit o’ fixing, but that won’t bother us. Mebbe we could set up home in it and nobody would ever know?’

John told him what Rosie had explained. ‘The best way to go about it is to see the solicitor dealing with it. There might just be a way we can secure the lot – cottage, land and the building.’

‘It’s just what you were after.’ Archie could see the sense in what John had to say. ‘Right – when do we go and see him?’

Grinning from ear to ear, John slapped his two hands on Archie’s shoulders. ‘There’s no time like the present,’ he said, and turning to Rosie: ‘Don’t you worry. I’ll have your barge as good as new in no time,’ he promised. ‘But like I say, she’ll need shifting to higher ground, and if I have my way … into that there building.’

Rosie wished him well. ‘When you’re ready, you’ll find me at the docks tomorrow morning. I’ve another cargo to bring back.’

A short time later, she took them by barge down the canal, dropping the two men as near to Liverpool town centre as was possible. ‘Good luck,’ she called, and watched them hurry away.

Her eyes, though, were for John only. I like him! she thought, dimpling. I like him a lot.

Since her father’s accident there had been no time for anything but work, and certainly no time to be looking at men. But there was something about John; a kind of sadness maybe? Or was it because he didn’t seem at all interested in her in that way? Whatever it was that attracted her to him, John lingered in her mind long after he was gone from sight.

Searching the area, John asked passers-by where he might find the address Rosie had given. ‘Turn left by the church and straight on,’ one old gent informed him. ‘Halfway down on your right, turn at the pawnshop, and there you are.’

Within half an hour of leaving the barge, they were standing at the foot of the steps leading up to the office. The March day had turned cold, and the light was fading fast. Archie read the plaque on the wall. ‘ “J. T. Leatherhead, Solicitor”.’

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