Josephine Cox 3-Book Collection 2: The Loner, Born Bad, Three Letters. Josephine Cox

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      In the evening, when dinner was over, Judy helped to clear the table and wash up, before excusing herself. ‘I’m ready for bed now,’ she said, gave each of her parents a hug and quickly departed the room.

      ‘What’s got into our Judy?’ Tom was perplexed. ‘She hardly ate any of her food, and if she spoke it was only because you or I talked to her first. Is the lass ill or what?’

      ‘No, Tom, she’s not ill – at least, not in the way you think.’

      ‘Oh, aye, an’ what’s that supposed to mean?’ he asked, going to sit by the fire for a read of the News of the World.

      Choosing her words carefully, Beth told him, ‘The thing is, our little girl is growing up fast. Right now, there are things going on inside her head that you can’t begin to understand.’

      ‘Oh, give over, woman!’ Tom didn’t take kindly to riddles. ‘Just tell me what’s going on, an’ I’d like it in plain language, if you don’t mind.’

      ‘Hmm!’ Beth smiled knowingly. ‘What ails our daughter can’t be told in plain language. She’s a girl becoming a woman, and as I say, there’s not a man on God’s earth who could fathom that out, even if he tried.’

      Tom tutted impatiently, but he had a smile and a comment. ‘You’re not wrong there. I’ve been trying to fathom you out long enough, Elizabeth Makepeace, an’ I’m still no nearer than the day I put a ring on yer finger. Women!’ he muttered. ‘Damned if I can make head nor tail of ’em!’

      ‘Stop complaining and read your paper.’ Beth took out her sewing box and smoothed one of her husband’s socks over the wooden heel she kept for darning. And while she threaded the biggest needle with black wool, she thought of her young daughter upstairs, alone with her dreams.

      It didn’t take much to see what was wrong with the lass, she thought, making a knot in the wool. All these years, Davie Adams and Judy had been friends through thick and thin. As small children during the latter part of the war, they had spent a lot of time over at Three Mills Farm, especially at weekends. Beth recalled her tiny daughter looking up at Davie with absolute love and hero-worship, following him around and ready to play any role he asked her to. She was cowboy to his Indian, batsman to his bowler, and they could spend hours in a corner of the farmyard, playing with their marbles and Dinky toys. With homemade nets, they’d fish for tiddlers and sticklebacks in the duckpond, and put them in jamjars, with string tied round, to make handles. And sometimes, Davie would push the battered old doll’s pram around the yard, full of teddies and handknitted toys, while the hens squawked about them.

      Beth sighed nostalgically. When Rita came to fetch him, the two women would enjoy a nice cup of tea and a bit o’ cake and a natter. She missed those days, despite the constant fear of bombing. As a farmer, thank God, her Tom was exempt from service, although he did his share of fire-watching and the like. Often, when Don was away, Rita would stay, and they’d all play cards, once the kids were in bed. Then Rita was a different woman from the one who went out with her mother, all dolled up with a load of powder and paint on her pretty face and the pair of ’em up to all sorts of tricks behind their husbands’ backs.

      Those memories were best forgotten. Beth thought instead of the times she had helped the children with their homework when they’d gone off to the big school in Blackburn Town. She was canny at the arithmetic, was Beth – she’d needed to have a shrewd head on her shoulders, running the farm with her Tom, who was better at hosswork than headwork. Oh well. Davie had been due to leave soon, while her Judy had a couple of years or more yet. And now Rita was gone, and so was Don … and Davie had vanished into the wide blue yonder, just when Judy had begun to see her childhood friend in a different light.

      It seemed that, with him leaving, their friendship, at least on Judy’s side, had deepened into a more mature emotion. The girl had said it herself. She loved Davie in a new way – and it was a painful thing. Turning to her darning, Beth consoled herself with the knowledge that Judy was still too young at twelve to experience the stirrings of real love – the kind that robs you of your sleep and makes the day seem neverending.

      She thought of Davie, and her heart ached. Where was the lad? Why didn’t he come home, instead o’ wandering the streets like some poor vagabond! She tutted aloud.

      ‘What’s that?’ Tom peered over his newspaper. ‘What did y’say?’

      ‘I said, would you like another cup o’ tea?’ Beth asked, throwing off her anxious mood.

      ‘Aye, go on then … and don’t forget the sugar this time.’

      Upstairs, Judy lay on her bed, her mind in turmoil. She was half-minded to go after Davie, but she knew her parents would be frantic with worry if she did so. And besides, which way would she go? Even Davie hadn’t known where he was headed.

      After a few minutes of trying to get to sleep, she went and sat by the window; she felt comfortable there, as though that great outdoors had the answer to everything. A trillion stars were dancing in the heavens, and from somewhere in the distance a barn owl was calling for its mate. How could everything be so magical, while she felt so sad?

      She wondered if Davie could hear that same owl, or see the same stars in the skies. The idea gave her a small degree of comfort.

      Davie was not as far away as Judy imagined.

      Curled up at the foot of a tree trunk, he was finding it hard to sleep. Judy was strong in his mind, and stronger still was her impetuous kiss. It still burned on his mouth, her soft full lips against his. He wanted to see her again, but he knew it would be best if he didn’t.

      Soon, it would be time for him to leave this place for good. She still had a lot of growing up to do, while he felt a hundred years old. If they never saw each other again it would be a very sorry thing.

      But maybe, in the end, that might be for the best.

      For now though, he desperately needed to sleep. Rolling over, he wrapped СКАЧАТЬ