Josephine Cox Sunday Times Bestsellers Collection. Josephine Cox
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‘Well, all right, yes, I was about to speak. But it was nothing to do with the postman.’ She couldn’t resist another little jibe. ‘If you fancy a torrid affair on the quiet with him, who am I to judge?’
Ignoring her teasing, Amy asked, ‘So, what were you about to tell me just now?’
Feigning indignation, Bridget pouted, ‘Ah, sure, I’ve changed me mind. I’m not telling you now.’
Amy laughed. ‘You’re itching to tell me. So, come on. What is it?’ Leaning over the desk, she folded her arms. ‘I’m not doing any more work until you tell me.’
‘So! Refusing to work now, is it?’ Bridget was enjoying the little exchange. ‘I hope ye realise, I could sack you for that.’
‘But you won’t.’
Bridget’s smile grew wider. ‘I got a letter this morning.’
‘Oh? An old boyfriend, was it?’ Amy knew how to turn tables.
‘No, ’twas not!’ Waving the letter under Amy’s nose, she said, ‘You’ll never guess who it’s from.’
‘Aw, Bridget, stop teasing.’ With sleight of hand, Amy tried to get at the letter, but Bridget was too quick for her.
‘Don’t be impatient.’ She could be a real torment.
Amy tried another tack. ‘Well, I’d best be going now. I’ve updated the appointment book. There’s just a bit of filing to be done, but that can wait until Monday.’ She began to turn away.
Horrified, Bridget grabbed hold of her arm. ‘Aw, go on then,’ she said, and thrust the letter at her. ‘Open it, why don’t ye?’
A moment later, Amy was clapping her hands and shrieking, ‘Oh my God, it’s Lucy! She’s coming to see us!’ Running round the desk she caught hold of Bridget and wouldn’t let go. Then she was crying and laughing all at the same time. Tears of joy ran unheeded down her face.
‘Behave yourself,’ Bridget chided. ‘Sure, I know you’re thrilled and so am I, but will ye stop the damned bawling … oh, now will ye look at that! You’re plastering snot all over the sleeve of me coat!’
Amy wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. ‘I’m sorry,’ she whimpered, ‘but I can’t believe it. All this time, Lucy kept her distance, not wanting to see us and not wanting to come back, and now she’ll soon be here, and I can’t believe it. Oh Bridget!’
‘Hey!’ Taking her by the shoulders, Bridget warned, ‘Don’t start bawling again, or I’ll have you locked away somewheres, then you won’t see her at all, will ye?’
Amy laughed at that. ‘Oh, but isn’t it wonderful?’
The other woman agreed. ‘It is, yes – though I’m not sure why the sudden change of mind after all this time.’
Amy’s eyes widened. ‘You’re right. She hasn’t said why she’s coming to see us. Oh no. You don’t think she’s poorly, do you – really poorly, I mean? Oh Bridget, I couldn’t stand it if she was coming back to tell us that.’
Although the very same thought had initially occurred to Bridget, she immediately put Amy’s mind at rest. ‘Oh for heaven’s sakes, will ye stop yer blathering! Think about it. If Lucy was that ill, she wouldn’t be travelling all this way to see us, would she, eh? Instead, I’m sure we’d be asked to go to her.’
Amy gave a sigh of relief. ‘You’re right. Oh, and it will be lovely to see her, won’t it?’
Bridget smiled, that deep-down smile that spoke more than words. ‘Yes. Now get off, or you’ll miss the start of the picture, so ye will.’
While Amy went to fetch her coat, Bridget threw herself into the high-backed leather chair.
‘I’m away now,’ Amy said, then had a sudden thought. ‘Lucy won’t arrive today, will she?’
‘O’ course not. I only got the letter this morning. You read it yourself. She’ll write again with a date to expect her. So, get off now, or you’ll miss the postman.’ She winked knowingly. ‘And ye wouldn’t want that now, would ye?’
‘Bridget! You shouldn’t be saying things like that. It could cause all manner of trouble if that kind of silly gossip got out.’
Bridget tutted. ‘Oh. Married, is he?’
‘No, he’s not married, and as far as I know, he’s not planning to, though from the sound of it you’d have us both marching down the aisle whether we want to or not.’
Bridget gave a naughty wink. ‘Whatever gives you that idea?’
Amy shook her head in frustration. ‘I’ll see you later.’ That said, she hurried out of the room.
‘Wait on!’ Behind her, Bridget gave a loud groan. ‘Oh Amy, you little darlin’, I don’t want you to miss the Pathé News, but you couldn’t fetch me a bowl of hot water, could ye? All that walking. Jaysus! Me feet are like two roasted chickens.’
Amy looked at her watch and gave a shrug. ‘I don’t suppose it will matter if I miss the first ten minutes.’
She returned to make Bridget more comfortable, though on delivering the bowl of hot water she gave her a lecture. ‘You’re too hard on yourself,’ she chided. ‘You do too much, always on the run, and frightening the life out of anybody who gets in the way of you and that mad machine. You need to remember, you’re not getting any younger.’
Bridget was indignant. ‘I didn’t build this business by sitting on my backside,’ she retorted. ‘And because there’s more competition ready to muscle in on me, I need to work at staying on top. I haven’t got time to grow old, thank you very much, and I don’t need reminding how I’m not getting any younger.’
Dipping her bare feet into the bowl, she gave a long, delicious sigh. ‘As for my mad machine, that car is a godsend to me. It saves my legs and gives me the freedom I need.’
Leaning over, Amy gave her a peck on the cheek. ‘I’m sorry,’ she told her. ‘I worry about you, that’s all.’ If she lost Bridget it would be like losing her best friend, and entire family.
‘Well, there’s no need.’ Bridget dismissed this with a wave of her hand. ‘Now, be off with ye.’
As she went, Amy remarked once more on Lucy’s imminent visit. ‘I can’t wait to see her,’ she said. ‘I wonder if she’s changed?’
‘Well, o’ course she’s changed!’ Bridget scoffed. ‘We all have. We’re older and slower, with wrinkles and greying hair.’
Amy laughed at that. ‘Not you!’ she called out as she went through the office. ‘You have your hair dyed and slap enough make-up on to frighten the devil. And you’re still as mad as a hatter.’
With that she closed the door and went on her way, leaving Bridget wondering about Lucy, and remembering how it was, before she went away. ‘Aw, Lucy my old friend, you had it hard, so ye did. What with losing the bairn and then Barney, and ye never even told us about him until a year later. But I think I understand why you needed to shut us out.’ She lounged deeper into the chair. ‘You thought to save us any distress, and like a wounded animal, you needed a place to hide.’
She closed her eyes and gave up a heartfelt prayer. ‘God willing, you maybe found a measure of peace, in your far-off hideaway.’
NORMALLY, ON A Sunday, Bridget would not see hide nor hair of Amy, and if by chance she did pop round to see her boss, it was never before midday. ‘I like my extra hour or two in bed of a Sunday,’ Amy would declare.