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

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      When Frank groaned and muttered, ‘Women and hats!’ Maggie told him in no uncertain terms to mind his own business.

      ‘Men should be seen and not heard,’ she said smartly, with her rolling Scottish ‘rrs’. ‘You’re not my keeper!’

      ‘Not yet,’ he murmured as he turned away. ‘But one day – who knows?’

      It had been a long, lonely fifteen years without a woman’s loving embrace. The stud farm was his pride and joy, but now that Lucy was grown into a woman, and his job with her was nearly done, Frank Thomson had fallen in love again, and the thought of putting a ring on Maggie’s finger brought a huge smile to his face, despite recent tragic events.

      Ten minutes later, the three of them set off in Dave’s Hillman-Minx, with Lucy and Maggie discussing shoes and hats, and which colour would suit the little woman best.

      When they arrived in town, Dave parked by the church. ‘Which way, ladies?’ He didn’t relish a day traipsing round shops, but this was for Lucy, and that was fine.

      ‘I’m off to Taylor’s hat shop,’ Maggie told them. ‘We can meet up later for a cup of tea if you want?’

      So it was arranged. They would meet underneath the market clock at midday.

      ‘Right!’ said Dave. ‘Where to first?’ He thought Lucy strikingly pretty in her boots and long coat; the high collar drawn up to her chin to keep out the cold. With her hair loose about her shoulders, she had the vulnerable look of a child and, for one fleeting moment as she turned her back to say cheerio to Maggie, he was reminded of Judy Makepeace.

      The thought both shocked and disturbed him.

      For too long now, he had promised himself to go back, to see both her and his grandfather. But time had raced away almost without him realising, and then there was that sickening sense of fear deep down inside him.

      Every time he thought of home it was there, swamping him; the lingering memories, the dark images, and the feeling of utter desolation.

      By some unfair alchemy, Judy was caught up in it, had become part of it – almost something to be feared. With his rational mind, he knew that she was sweet, loyal, innocent – a friend for life – and that he had somehow betrayed her by disappearing, by failing to fulfil his promise to write. One day, all this would have to be faced – he knew it, but oh, dear God – not yet. Not yet.

      There were times when he was acutely conscious of it, and other times when he was able to thrust it all to the back of his mind. But day or night, it never went away.

      Shaking off the melancholy, he turned his attention to Lucy. ‘Come along, madam!’ he teased with an easy smile. ‘Chop chop!’

      ‘Oh, there’s no rush. Let’s just wander.’ She curled her arm through his. ‘It’s so nice to have you all to myself, without Dad monopolising you.’

      As they strolled through the High Street, Dave thought how comfortable he felt with Lucy holding onto him. She was a lovely girl, and he had great affection for her. But he was shocked to find that the more comfortable he felt, the more he found himself thinking of Judy. His feelings for his employer’s daughter were triggering other, long-buried emotions. Taking a deep breath, Dave returned to the present moment.

      Lucy had a wonderful time going in and out of shops and taking Dave with her; though he felt embarrassed at the curious looks the sales assistants gave him in Etam and Marks & Spencer. They had fun listening to a couple of new records in a booth at the radiogram shop near Woolworths. Both of them were Cliff Richard fans, and Dave bought his latest EP for them both to listen to.

      Dave was paid a good wage by Frank – enough to run a car and make regular payments into a Post Office savings account. It was the first time he’d ever had spare money, and today he enjoyed lashing out on a new shirt, shoes and trousers for best. Lucy naughtily tried to persuade him to get a pair of winkle-pickers, but as he explained to her, tongue in cheek, they would frighten the horses!

      By midday, he and Lucy were loaded down with bags and boxes, and Maggie the same. ‘Whew, what a rush!’ She came stumbling towards them. ‘I tell you what, my darlings,’ she gasped. ‘I’m more than ready for a cuppa tea.’

      Fortunately, there was a café just round the corner. The trio found a table by the window and fell into the seats. ‘I feel worn out,’ Dave laughed. ‘I’d rather shift a ton of bricks than do that again!’

      ‘You might have to do it again when you’re married,’ Maggie chuckled. ‘Wives need their husbands to carry the shopping.’

      Dave was taken aback, while Lucy stared at her wide-eyed. ‘Who said anything about getting married?’ the girl asked, blushing.

      ‘I’m a woman,’ Maggie answered coyly. ‘And we have a way of sensing things.’ She tapped her nose. ‘Now then, where’s that waitress?’

      After they had ordered a plate of sandwiches and some drinks, they started looking through their purchases.

      ‘Now then, Lucy.’ Maggie prised open the largest of her shopping bags. ‘What d’you think to this?’ Whipping out a mad creation of black lace and brown roses, she popped it onto her head.

      ‘Well, I never!’ Lucy was astonished at the change in Maggie. ‘I’ve never seen you in a hat before. It really suits you.’

      Maggie beamed with delight. ‘What I want to know is, do I look like Dorothy Lamour?’

      ‘Who’s she when she’s at home?’ Dave asked.

      ‘Good Lord!’ Maggie was astounded. ‘Are you telling me you don’t know who Dorothy Lamour is?’

      ‘Neither do I,’ Lucy confessed.

      The Scotswoman sighed. ‘She’s a film star … made a lot of films wearing a swimsuit, dancing in the water to music. But she sometimes dresses up all fancy. Yes, she is an amazing-looking woman!’ She preened, and posed with her hat. ‘So, do you think I look a bit like a film star in this?’

      Lucy glanced at Dave who was thoroughly enjoying the conversation. ‘What do you think?’ she asked, straight-faced. ‘Do you think that Maggie looks like a Dorothy Lamour?’

      Before he could answer, the waitress was back with a big tray. ‘Ooh, you do look nice,’ she said, admiring Maggie’s frivolous hat. ‘I reckon you’re the spitting image of Dorothy Lamour. I’ve seen a few of her films, and she’s a right glamour-puss.’

      Maggie almost swooned. ‘There!’ She gave Dave and Lucy a haughty look. ‘I’m glad somebody knows who I’m talking about.’ For a while after that, there was no controlling her.

      While they enjoyed their lunchtime snack, they talked of Seamus and the way Frank had managed to keep his temper, most of the time. ‘I’m surprised Frank didn’t take a horse-whip to him!’ Maggie said indignantly.

      ‘I’m worried,’ Lucy said quietly. ‘It was a terrible thing, to lose Molly like that, and when Dad threw him out on his ear, Seamus promised all kinds of trouble. To me, he seems the sort to carry out his threat. I’m scared, Dave. Will he really come back, do you think?’

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