The Railway Girl. Nancy Carson

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       Chapter 7

      Arthur made it to the Whimsey just before nine that evening. He immediately searched for Lucy across the room, and saw her serving an elderly customer. She had a soft, dreamy look in her blue eyes, a look which enchanted him just as surely as if a spell had been cast on him by some benign love witch. He approached the bar.

      ‘How do, Lucy. You do look nice.’

      She smiled serenely. ‘Thank you, Arthur, it’s nice of you to say so,’ she said, taking money from the elderly man.

      ‘She does, don’t she?’ he said to the man who was standing beside him waiting for his change.

      The ageing customer crinkled up his rheumy eyes and nodded. ‘Her meks me wish I was young again. But still, I’n had my day. They say as every dog has his day, and I’n had mine – more’s the pity.’

      Arthur nodded his acknowledgement of the man’s reply and grinned matily. He turned to Lucy. ‘A pint please, Lucy. And have a drink yourself.’

      ‘Thank you, I will.’ She filled a tankard and placed it on the bar. ‘How’s your cold today?’

      ‘Oh, much better …’ He handed her the money. ‘But I’ve hurt me back lifting a slab of marble.’ He put his hand to the small of his back and grimaced as if in pain.

      ‘How did you do that?’

      ‘Me and our Talbot was fitting a new counter top at Mr Guest’s shop this morning – you know, the haberdashery. I tried to lift it on me own, but it was too heavy. Now I’m in agony.’

      ‘Maybe you’d best not stay here then,’ she suggested. ‘Maybe you should go home and rest.’

      ‘No, I’ll be all right. What time’s your father due?’

      ‘Any minute.’

      Another customer came and stood at the bar seeking service, and Lucy served him before turning to Arthur again.

      ‘So you’ve done nothing this afternoon?’ she queried. ‘On account of your back.’

      ‘Yes, I have. I went and had me likeness taken in Dudley.’

      ‘Had your likeness taken? I bet that cost a fortune. Did you have that same look of agony on your face?’ she asked impishly.

      Her irreverence amused him. ‘I’d like you to have yours taken, so’s I can look at it when I’m home and you’re not with me. I forget what you look like sometimes and it drives me mad. If you had your likeness taken it would remind me.’

      She laughed self-consciously and wiped the top of the counter with a cloth. ‘How can you forget what I look like?’

      ‘By trying too hard to remember, I reckon. I think about you a lot, Lucy … Anyway, you can have a copy of my likeness when its done. You never know, you might take to it.’

      She smiled, endeavouring to hide her conscience at both her inability to reciprocate his feelings and her eagerness to yield hers to Dickie Dempster, should he ever ask. ‘Look, I’m getting busy, Arthur,’ she entreated. ‘I can’t talk now, or I’ll get into trouble. I’ll see you later.’

      Haden Piddock appeared just at that moment, accompanied by another man. ‘Why, it’s King Arthur.’ He turned to his companion. ‘Arthur’s a keen cricketer, you know, Enoch. You know what he calls his bat?’

      ‘What?’

      ‘Excalibur …’

      The two men guffawed.

      ‘I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon, shall I?’ Arthur suggested as he and Lucy stood outside the Piddocks’ cottage after walking her back.

      ‘Oh, Arthur, I don’t know …’

      ‘What d’you mean, you don’t know? Don’t you want to?’

      ‘I need to set one or two things straight …’

      They were standing about a yard apart and Arthur was itching to get close to her, to take her in his arms.

      ‘About what?’ he said quietly, dreading hearing what she was about to say.

      Lucy shrugged, sighing profoundly. ‘It’s just that … I don’t want you to think I’m leading you on, Arthur,’ she whispered guiltily. ‘I know that you’re keen on me …’

      ‘I am keen on you. So?’

      ‘Well … I think you’re keener on me than I am on you.’

      ‘Then you should be flattered,’ he said, outwardly undaunted by her reticence, but inwardly agonised.

      ‘But I don’t want to hurt you, Arthur. It’s the last thing I want. You’re such a decent, gentle chap.’

      Arthur emitted a great sigh. ‘Well, you’re hurting me just by saying such things. If I’m such a decent, gentle chap why are you holding back from me? I don’t understand, Lucy. I think the world of you …’

      ‘I know you do, Arthur. That’s what makes it all so difficult … But I think it’s best if we don’t see each other for a bit.’

      ‘Why?’ he protested. ‘I only see you a couple of nights in the week and Sunday afternoons as it is. It’s not as if I get the chance to get fed up of you … or you of me, come to that.’

      ‘But it might be best for you,’ she said, his best interests at heart. ‘If I find myself missing you, I’ll know I’ve only been fooling myself. I’ll know better how I feel.’

      ‘Are you sure there ain’t somebody else you’m seeing on the quiet, Lucy?’ he said perceptively.

      ‘I swear, Arthur. I ain’t seeing anybody but you.’ It was actually no lie, but how could she confess she was preoccupied with another man who actually knew nothing about her devotion, and possibly cared even less. She would seem so stupid.

      He plucked up his courage and wrapped his arms around her, hugging her to him. To his relief and encouragement she snuggled to him like a kitten, laying her cheek on his shoulder.

      ‘You poor, mixed up madam,’ he said softly, accidentally tilting her bonnet as he nestled her to him.

      ‘Careful, Arthur,’ she complained. ‘You’re knocking me bonnet askew. Oh, that’s typical of you.’ She straightened it, tutting to herself at his unwitting clumsiness, which marred even his feeblest attempts at romance.

      ‘Sorry.’ He could have kicked himself for his ineptitude. ‘I didn’t mean to knock your bonnet over your eyes. Are you all right now?’

      ‘Yes,’ СКАЧАТЬ