Live the Dream. Josephine Cox
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‘You know I am. Why else would I be here?’
Grabbing her to him, he kissed her hard on the mouth, one hand undoing her dress, the other snaking round her waist.
There was little foreplay and even less tenderness. It wasn’t long before they were naked and locked together, writhing on the floor in ecstasy. The coupling was fast and furious, leaving them collapsed into each other, gasping and breathless.
A short time later, the cabbie almost leaped out of his skin when she banged on the window. ‘Open the door, dammit!’ In the streetlight, with her face pressed to the window, she made a frightening sight to a poor wakening man.
Scrambling across the seat, he opened the door. ‘What time is it?’
She was smiling like a cat who’d got the cream. ‘It’s time to take me home,’ she said.
And because his every instinct told him she was trouble, he lost no time in taking her home as fast as he could.
Edna hurried home to Peter Street.
‘I’ve kept the kettle on to boil.’ A small, round figure with balding head and pot belly, Harry had been wed to Edna these past forty years, and he loved her now as much as he had ever done. ‘Sit yerself down, lass.’ Scrambling out of the chair, he began his way to the kitchen. ‘I’ll mek yer a brew.’
When the tea was made, the two of them sat before the fire, comfortable in each other’s company, and as always, the low-burning fire making them drowsy. ‘Everything all right when you got back there, lass?’
‘Aye, in the end,’ she replied.
‘Don’t let that woman upset you, lass. She’s not worth losing a minute’s sleep over.’ Sliding down in the chair he closed his eyes.
Seemingly unaware that her husband was ready for his bed, Edna remarked on what she had overheard. ‘That devil were calling me names again.’
Looking up, Harry scratched his head. ‘What’s that you say, lass?’
Edna tutted. ‘Sylvia’s awful sister. She were calling me names to Mr Hammond.’
He shook his head in disgust. ‘She’s a bad lot, is that one. Anyway, how d’yer know she were calling yer names? Did Mr Hammond mention it then?’
‘Naw, course he didn’t. He would never do that. He doesn’t like trouble, doesn’t Mr Hammond; he prefers a peaceful life. No, I overheard the two of them talking about Sylvia, and I heard her say as how I weren’t fit to be looking after her. She reckons he should get somebody more suited.’
‘Huh! He’ll not get nobody more suited than you, lass. By! You’ve got more qualifications an’ experience than she’ll ever have!’
Edna smiled at that. ‘You allus did credit me with more than I deserve.’ Though she did allow herself a little pat on the back. ‘But you’re right o’ course,’ she conceded. ‘I worked long and hard over the years, and if I say so meself, I look after Sylvia better than anyone else ever could … matter o’ fact I don’t think she’d ever agree to anybody else taking care of her. Y’see, she’s come to rely on me for everything.’
Harry couldn’t agree more. ‘Aye! An’ that’s ’cos she loves you like you were her own mammy,’ he retorted. ‘Look, lass. You tek no notice o’ that sister of hers. She’s an out-and-out troublemaker. Like you say, she’s got her eye on Luke Hammond, and soonever his wife is out of it, she’ll be in there afore yer can thread a needle.’
Edna laughed at his boldness. ‘And you’re right,’ she told him, with a loving pat on the hand. ‘But I mentioned that to you in confidence, so you must never repeat it to another soul, or I’ll be sent packing for good, and no mistake.’
By the time she’d finished speaking, he was beginning to nod off. ‘Hey! Come on, you.’ Shaking him fully awake, she urged, ‘Off to bed with you, an’ I’ll be up alongside you in a few minutes.
After he’d gone, she thought about the conversation between Luke Hammond and his scheming sister-in-law. Harry’s right she thought. That sister of hers is a devil in the making!
She thought of Sylvia’s predicament. ‘I do love that poor lass, though,’ she muttered. ‘By! If her sister had her way, Sylvia would be shut away in some institution or another by now, leaving the coast clear for that madam Georgina to work her wiles. But thankfully, the lass will be safe enough.’ She comforted herself with the thought. While Luke Hammond has the final say, his wife will be well looked after, God willing. With me there to tend her every need.
‘COME ON, YOU lazy pair!’ Dave’s voice sailed through the house. ‘Let’s be having you.’
‘What’s up?’ Sleepy-eyed, Amy leaned over the banister. ‘Is there a fire or what?’
‘There will be if you don’t get your backsides down here.’ Positioning himself on the second stair, Dave told her, ‘It’s ten past six. I’ve made the fire, boiled the kettle and now I’m ready for my breakfast.’
Amy glanced at her parents’ bedroom door. ‘Where’s Mam? Why didn’t she get up with you?’
‘Because she likes her bed too much, that’s why.’ Banging the banister again he pleaded, ‘Go and knock the door … tell her I’m ready for off.’
Amy groaned. ‘It’s surely not that time yet, is it?’ So far there had not been one day when the shop was late opening.
‘Happen not. But it soon will be if you don’t get a move on. So shift yourself, lass. And wake your mam up, will you?’
Grumbling and moaning, he lumbered into the kitchen where he checked the gas-ring. ‘Damn thing, it’s allus going out.’ Striking a match on the range, he lit it again. ‘One o’ these days I’ll chuck the bloody thing in the river and be rid of it once and for all!’
Glancing at the mantelpiece clock, he groaned. ‘Jesus! I’m getting nowhere at this rate.’
Making his way to the bottom of the stairs, he called up again, ‘MARIE … AMY! What the devil’s keeping you?’
Halfway to her parents’ room, Amy turned and came back. ‘What now?’
‘Did you wake your mam up?’
‘Not yet, but I will if you’ll give me a chance.’
‘Look, lass … get her out, will you? I can’t be going to work without summat inside me … I’d make my own breakfast, but you know what happened the last time I tried cooking on that blessed gas stove!’
‘And how could we ever forget?’ Having been woken by the yelling and shouting, Marie emerged fully dressed from her bedroom. ‘By! You should be ashamed … a grown man who can’t fry an egg without setting fire to the kitchen.’ Coming along the landing, she winked at Amy who by now was wide awake.
Relieved to see Marie already out and fighting fit, he called up, ‘Come on, lass. I don’t want to be late.’
‘Stop your moithering. I’m on my way.’ Starting down the stairs, Marie noticed how Amy was shivering. ‘Aw, lass, you’ll catch your death o’ cold. You go and get yerself dressed,’ she instructed in her best no-nonsense voice, ‘while I make a start on the breakfast.’ She feverishly rubbed her hands together. ‘By! It’s bitter cold! I hope your dad’s got a good fire going.’ Giving Amy a little push, she urged, ‘Go on, lass. Get dressed.’
‘Thanks, Mam.’ Drawing her robe tight about her, Amy felt the cold right through to her bones. ‘Don’t worry about my breakfast,’ she told Marie, ‘I’ll do myself a boiled egg and toast when I