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

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ and lovely; her nearness, and the warm, earthy smell of her hair brushing against his face.

      After a while, he drifted into a shallow, troubled rest, haunted by recent events and the unknown road ahead. His mother’s dying face, with its look of love, made him sob in his sleep.

      Opening his eyes, glad to see it was almost dawn, he turned his thoughts to family.

      Before he set out, there was one more thing he had to do. Then he would be gone from here, taking whichever path drew him away.

      Not for the first time since that night, he wondered where his father might be. Had Don gone back to Ireland? Or was he still hereabouts, a mere few miles away? Or was he on a ship destined for foreign parts?

      Davie needed him now more than ever, but he would never admit it out loud. All he wished was that his father should be safe, wherever he was, and wherever in the world his travels might take him.

      He thought of his own situation and yes, the future seemed a frightening prospect. But the past was even more daunting.

      And the sooner he put it behind him, the better.

Chapter Eight

      THROUGHOUT THE WEEK following Davie’s disappearance, news of his mother’s untimely demise spread far and wide. ‘That silly tart got what she deserved,’ some declared callously. Others shook their head and found a degree of compassion for a life lost, and other lives ruined.

      ‘I expect we’ll be the only ones at the church.’ Beth had been getting her family prepared for the ordeal of the funeral on the Saturday morning.

      Tom was more philosophical. ‘I wouldn’t be surprised if a few neighbours turned up,’ he commented, as he wound his tie round his neck for the third time. ‘Happen not for Rita’s sake, but for old Joseph. He’s made a heap o’ friends over the years, an’ he’s never let ’em down when they needed him.’

      He cocked his head to one side, skenning downwards through crossed eyes as he made a fourth attempt at taming his rebellious tie. ‘I reckon they’ll not let him down neither, especially not today of all days.’

      Snatching the tie from round his neck, he threw it over the back of the chair. ‘I’m not wearing this damned thing! I can’t even fasten the beggar.’

      Judy came to the rescue. ‘Don’t fidget, Dad,’ she said, sliding the tie round his leathery neck. ‘And I think you’re right. I bet the people will be there for old Joseph.’

      ‘I’m not so sure.’ Rolling the flesh-coloured stockings up to her thighs, Beth hoisted her skirt and hooked up the suspenders. ‘Although we were friends, there was summat inside Rita that made her lose all control. By! She must have bedded half the male population o’ Blackburn in her time. I’m just glad she never started on you, Tom. There must be a hundred women out there who’d like to dance on her grave, never mind come and pay their respects.’

      As she spoke, she made the sign of the cross over herself. ‘God rest her soul all the same,’ she prayed.

      Judy glanced across at her mam. ‘Your seams are crooked.’

      ‘What?’

      Having looped her daddy’s tie into a neat little knot, the girl pointed down at her mother’s stockings. ‘The seams are all crooked, see?’

      ‘Oh, damn and bugger it!’ As a rule Beth never wore stockings; she much preferred bare legs, or a warm pair of socks inside boots or stout shoes. She was a farmer’s wife, not a townswoman.

      Twisting herself round, Beth began tweaking the stockings, until the seams were as straight as she could get them. ‘How’s that, lass?’ she panted.

      Judy nodded. ‘Much better, Mam.’

      ‘Right well, it’s time we were on our way.’ Looking in the mirror, she dabbed a discreet shaking of powder on her face, then a touch of lipstick, and then came the hat – a small round, blueberry-coloured thing. ‘How does that look?’ she asked, spinning round to face them.

      ‘Like a cherry on a cake,’ Tom remarked, making his daughter smile.

      Ignoring his cheeky comment, Beth asked of Judy, ‘Do I look dignified, lass?’

      The girl gave an honest answer. ‘Yes, Mam.’

      ‘And the hat – is it suitable for the occasion, d’you think? … And don’t look at your father; he’s got no idea.’

      Judy gave her own opinion. ‘You look really smart, Mam. Rita would be pleased you’d made the effort.’

      Beth regarded her daughter with a critical eye; the dark flared skirt and fitted jacket, and her light brown hair taken back in one thick plait. ‘You do us proud, so you do,’ she said with a generous hug. ‘Now then, are we ready or what?’

      Tom was still tugging at the neck of his shirt; red in the face, he looked fit to burst. ‘It’s choking me, damn it!’

      ‘It’s me as’ll choke you, if you don’t stop yer moaning!’ Turning away, Beth winked at her daughter. ‘Look at our Judy,’ she told her husband. ‘She’s quietly got herself ready an’ not a word of complaint.’

      Judy didn’t mind their friendly bantering; she had other things on her mind. ‘Do you think Don or Davie will be there?’ she asked. She’d dressed up with Davie in mind, just in case by some miracle he turned up; had wanted to look her very best. She knew it was silly. He’d have his heart and mind on his mam, not her. And she worried about how he’d been surviving, these past few days. He hadn’t been back to the barn.

      ‘I’ve been wondering the very same,’ Tom said. ‘It wouldn’t surprise me to see the lad there at some point. I mean, look how he stuck by his mam when everyone else turned against her. He’ll not desert her now, not if I know the lad, he won’t. As for Don, it’s a crying shame. He’ll probably not even know that the poor lass is dead.’

      ‘If he does put in an appearance, do what you can to persuade him to stay, Tom,’ Beth said. ‘Tell him he can have a home with us for as long as he wants.’

      A few minutes later, with Tom lagging behind, still moaning because he was ‘being throttled by this blessed tie!’ the three of them made their way to the car. The old Morris Minor was in a bad humour today, and needed the starter-handle to get it going, by which time Tom had taken his tie off again, and had muck on his hands.

      ‘I hope Joseph was ready when they came for him,’ Tom said, breathing a sigh of relief as the engine caught. ‘I don’t expect he’s had a wink of sleep.’

      As they made the short journey to St Peter’s Church, the conversation centred on Rita’s father. ‘You needn’t worry about him not being ready,’ Beth replied. ‘When we popped in yesterday, Judy and I went through everything with him – the time the undertakers would be there to collect him, and what he would need to wear. He had it all set out on the sofa ready.’

      ‘Aye, well, you never can tell with Joe. He’s a stubborn old devil when he puts his mind to it.’ Tom recalled his conversation with the older man. ‘I СКАЧАТЬ