Classic Bestsellers from Josephine Cox: Bumper Collection. Josephine Cox
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It’s up to you.’
‘I’d like to paddle in that water,’ Johnny declared boldly, ‘but I might drown! That’s what I think.’
Luke laughed out loud. ‘You think right!’ he said. ‘But you won’t drown while me and Amy are about, because we’d soon be in the water to get you out. But the water here is fast-flowing and dangerous. The best thing of all is to stay right away from it, at least until you learn to swim.’
While they talked, Amy stayed at the back of the room from where she observed them together. She saw how trusting Johnny was, and recalled how he had taken to Ben from the start. She saw how protective Ben was towards Johnny. And she was deeply moved by it.
When he turned to regard her with that deep, intense gaze, Amy felt her heart turn somersaults.
‘Have you time for a hot drink before you go?’ he asked hopefully.
‘Thank you, yes. I’d like that.’
She offered to make the tea but he would hear none of it. ‘You’re my guest,’ he said, and quickly set about boiling the water on the paraffin stove.
When the tea was made and he had poured three cups, one of which he left to cool for Johnny, he took the other two and went in search of Amy, who had gone outside.
Seated on the veranda steps, she had one wary eye on Johnny and the other on the distant brook. It was so unbelievably beautiful here, she thought. If she had not known different she could have imagined herself to be anywhere but in the vicinity of Blackburn.
In town, the sky hung low and ominous, while here, the sky seemed far out of reach. In town the streets were lined with lampposts and never a tree in sight, while here the trees stood tall and strong, with their branches stretching all around like a galaxy of giant umbrellas. Then there, just beyond, was the water, just as he had described, ‘fast-flowing and dangerous’.
This countryside was all a new and splendid experience to Amy, and there was a glory about it that held her gaze and lifted her soul, and in that moment, in the clear light, with the rustle of leaves and muted winter call of birds, when she seemed so much a part of it, she never wanted to leave. She would be content to stay for ever in this magical place.
Behind her, Luke stood holding the cups, his quiet eyes drinking in the sight of Amy, and his heart more content than he had known in an age. It seemed so right and natural that she should be here, and he could hardly believe it.
All this time he had gazed at her painting and longed to speak with her and share her smile, and now here she was, real and warm, and, if her expression was anything to go by, her heart, like his, was deeply touched by this very special place.
Not wanting to break the silence but knowing he must, he stepped forward and reaching down, handed her the cup of tea. Then he sat beside her.
‘Just now, you seemed so far away … deep in thought?’
She nodded, her voice little more than a whisper. ‘I was thinking how a body might well want to stay here, and never leave.’
‘You’re right,’ he murmured. ‘I’ve felt that way, since I first came to this little paradise.’
Amy was curious. ‘How did you find it?’
He told her about coming here with his grandparents, who had owned the land, in his school holidays, and how the woods had become associated with those carefree times. Here he had learned to fish and survive a day at the hands of nature, to appreciate the beauty and solitude of this lovely part of Lancashire. Now the land was his.
Amy finished the tale for him. ‘So, you made this clearing and built your cabin, and now this is where you hide, when the weight of the world weighs you down?’
For a moment he did not answer. He looked into her eyes and there he saw a reflection of his own, deeper feelings. ‘I do love it here,’ he answered, ‘and you’re right: this is where I hide.’
He glanced back to see how Johnny was occupied with his drawing. ‘Amy?’
‘Yes?’
‘Must you go?’
‘You know I have to.’
‘Will you ever come back, do you think?’
Amy shrugged. ‘Who knows?’
‘But you won’t promise?’
‘I can’t promise.’
She so much wanted to come back here; even to leave little Johnny at home and be here with Ben, just the two of them. But she was afraid of the way he made her feel. There was something about this place, about him, that made her wary. She was fond of Jack, but she could not recall ever feeling like this with him. It was strange. And a little frightening.
Finishing her tea, she stood up to place her cup on the handrail. ‘It’s time we went,’ she said. ‘I’ll get Johnny.’
As she brushed past him, he caught her by the hand.
‘Wait!’ A look of anxiety shaded his features. ‘There’s something you need to know.’
Amy sensed his concern and was afraid. ‘What is it?’
‘I lied to you,’ he went on quickly before he might lose his courage. ‘My name isn’t Ben. It’s …’ he hesitated, before finishing in a rush, ‘my name is Luke Hammond.’
It took only a second or two to register in Amy’s mind. ‘Luke Hammond?’ Stunned, she stared at him. ‘Luke Hammond, the factory owner?’ The anger rose inside her. He had lied to her! Why had he felt the need to lie?
When he nodded, she turned from him without another word. Hurrying into the cabin, she felt a pang of fear when the boy was nowhere to be seen. ‘Johnny?’ When suddenly her eyes alighted on him, she gave a sigh of relief. Having wandered to the other side of the room, he was peering at something against the wall. She went across to him at a run. ‘Come on, Johnny.’ Taking him by the hand, she told him, ‘We have to go.’
Having put the fire screen in place, Luke waited at the door. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I’ll take you back now.’ He cursed himself for not having told her the truth from the start. But he had been afraid to tell her. He had hoped always to keep his identity secret, because the man he was today was the man he desperately needed to be. It was not the man who ran the factory and held his life together with duty and responsibility. He had never wanted Amy tainted with all that. She was already, in his mind, a part of this retreat on the Tuesdays when the factory owner became a free man.
As they drove home, the silence weighed heavy.
No one spoke, not even Johnny, who sensed an atmosphere and instinctively curled himself into Amy’s embrace. In a matter of minutes the gentle bumping of the car and the hum of the engine lulled him to sleep.
When the car drew up at the market, Luke clambered out to open the back door.
‘I’m sorry,’ he told Amy. ‘I should never have lied to you.’ Reaching into the car he helped them both out, Johnny being still dozy from his sleep. ‘Will you stay a minute?’ Luke asked her. ‘Let me explain?’
Amy shook her head. ‘We have to go.’
Luke persisted. ‘It doesn’t matter, does it … who I am?’
She had been doing up Johnny’s coat buttons, but now she paused and, looking up, took stock of him for a minute – that mop of dark hair, those intense, sad eyes – and she felt a pang of guilt. He had been nothing but kind and hospitable to her and Johnny – and had done them the honour of sharing his private retreat with them. ‘No,’ she answered. ‘It doesn’t matter. But we have to go now.’
Visibly relieved with her answer, he asked, ‘Will you forgive me?’
She nodded. That was all. A curt, hesitant little nod, but it was enough for Luke. For now.