Journey’s End. Josephine Cox

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СКАЧАТЬ a dewdrop appeared on the end of her nose she cuffed it away. ‘There’s a chill wind brewing,’ she said. ‘I’d best be going, or my knee will seize up again.’ She chuckled. ‘I’m not so young as I was, more’s the pity, but I can’t let the years get the better of me, ’cause once I do that, I’m finished.’ She squared her shoulders. ‘Inside, I’m still the young woman who fought and clawed her way to the top.’

      After rearranging the posy in a nicer position, she clambered to her feet, groaning as she straightened up. ‘The old bones are beginning to complain, but the mind’s as quick as it ever was.’ Bridget was thankful for the good health she enjoyed. It meant she could keep to her schedule and stay one step ahead of advancing years.

      She rubbed her sore knees and for a moment was quiet in contemplation. ‘In some ways it might be better if yer mammy never came back, poor wee thing,’ she said, ‘but then I wouldn’t see her, would I? An’ she wouldn’t see you, an’ that would be a terrible shame, especially when it’s taken her so long to make this particular journey.’

      The man’s kindly voice startled her. ‘You know what they say about people who talk to themselves?’

      Swinging round, she almost fell over. ‘Jaysus! I almost had a heart attack. What d’you want to creep up on me like that for?’

      The man apologised. ‘I wasn’t creeping up on you,’ he said. ‘It’s just that I’ve seen you so often down here, I thought I might come up and say hello.’

      Slim and tidy, with a pleasant bearded face, something about him jogged Bridget’s memory. ‘Have I seen ye somewhere before?’ she asked. ‘You look familiar.’

      He laughed at that. ‘Isn’t that what the men are supposed to say when they see a woman who takes their fancy?’

      Bridget could see the funny side. ‘Ah well now, it’s not that I’m after taking your fancy,’ she joked in return. ‘I really do believe I’ve seen ye somewheres before.’

      Offering the hand of friendship, he introduced himself. ‘The name’s Oliver Rogers.’

      Bridget shook his hand. ‘An’ how d’you do then, Oliver Rogers.’ Suddenly she was blushing to the roots of her hair. ‘Ah, now I know where I’ve seen ye. That’s it! You used to visit my old place … Gawd Almighty! Sure, that’s more years ago than I care to remember.’

      He laughed. ‘You’re right. It must be at least twenty-four years since I climbed the steps to spend an hour or so with one of your girls.’

      Bridget nodded. ‘If I remember aright, you always asked for Judy.’

      ‘That’s right, I did.’ He seemed embarrassed. ‘But only because she was the nearest to you I could get … same red hair and that wonderful bubbly nature. It was always you I wanted, Bridget. You were the loveliest of them all, but you were always just out of reach.’

      Like a young schoolgirl on her first date, Bridget protested, ‘Away with you! Why would you want me, when you could have the pick of my girls?’

      He gazed at her for a moment, before answering softly, ‘We can’t help who we fall in love with, can we?’

      For the first time in her life, Bridget was lost for words. When she did speak, her voice was alive with anger. ‘Soft talk, is it? I expect you’ve found out that I’ve made it good and you want a slice of it. Well, aren’t you the cunning blighter, eh? In love with me, you say? Hmh! I know what you’re after, so I do.’ She wagged a finger at him. ‘I’m far too canny to fall for all that nonsense, so ye’d best be on yer way, before ye see a side to me you wouldn’t like! Go on, be off with you! I’ve no wish to renew our acquaintance. What’s more, I can’t be wasting the day talking to the likes o’ you. I’m a busy woman, so I am.’

      With that she turned on her heel and went smartly down the path, muttering to herself and cursing. ‘Bloody maniac! Coming up behind me like that. Does he think I were born yesterday? Sure, I’ve worked hard to get where I am today. I started with nothing and fought my way up. Now I’ve got a good life and a healthy bank-balance, I’m not about to share it with some crafty, grasping old bugger!’

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