In the evening, Don bathed and afterwards changed into some of his old clothes, which Joseph had kept. Later, the two men sat by the fire, talking and reminiscing.

      Don confirmed his promise to Joseph. ‘I’ve been giving it more thought,’ he told him, ‘and you’re right. If I were to leave now, and spend the rest of my life searching for Davie, there would still be no guarantee that I would ever find him.’

      He had plans, though. ‘I’ll go and have a word with the authorities and see what they have on their files. You never know, there might be a clue as to where he could be.’

      Joseph was visibly relieved. ‘I’m glad you’re thinking that way, and not taking off again,’ he commented. ‘Matter o’ fact, if you were to go out looking for the lad, he might well make his way back, just as you have done, and then you won’t be here to welcome him home.’

      ‘So, I’ll stay awhile … if you’ll have me?’

      Joseph put up his hands in horror. ‘We’ll have none of that!’ he assured him. ‘This is your home for as long as you want it – Davie’s too.’

      ‘I think you’re right when you say Davie will be back.’ Don had convinced himself of it. ‘I’ll get a job. I’ll work hard, and save all I can. I’ll give myself time to breathe, and if Davie still hasn’t come home, I’ll go after him. Meanwhile, I’ll build a new life for all of us. What d’you say to that?’

      Joseph laughed out loud. ‘I say that’s bloody wonderful!’

      At long last the awful loneliness was over, and with two of them praying for Davie’s return, who knew? Yes! With Don’s homecoming, the old man really felt as though he had turned the corner.

      Sadly, Rita was gone. But Don was here, and now Joseph was convinced that Davie would not be far behind. ‘I reckon we should celebrate!’

      With that he scurried off to the corner shop, in search of ‘summat to warm the cockles’!

Chapter Fourteen

      ALREADY, THE MAKEPEACE family were up and about, with Tom out grooming his shire-horse and his wife, Beth, pegging out the washing on this clear November Saturday; her tuneless voice uplifted in song and the dog whining at her feet.

      Having tolerated it for the best part of five minutes, Tom could bear it no longer. ‘For pity’s sake, woman, will you stop that screeching. The poor dog will be a shivering wreck by the time you’ve finished!’ All the same, he couldn’t help but smile. He knew how she loved to torment the hound, and what was worse, unlike himself, the ‘hound’ seemed to relish every merciless minute of it.

      ‘You get on with what you’re doing.’ Beth feigned indignation. ‘Me and the mutt enjoy our morning song.’

      ‘Huh!’ Tom spoke directly to the horse, which seemed oblivious to everything but the juicy hay hanging from its teeth. “‘Morning song” is it?’ He sniggered. ‘More like the sound of all hell let loose, if you ask me!’

      Through her bedroom window, Judy heard it all. Scrambling out of bed, she went to the window, opened it and called down, ‘Who’s being murdered?’

      ‘What d’you mean?’ Beth looked up. ‘You’re as bad as your father. No sense of music at all, the pair of you.’ Collecting a bedsheet out of the basket, she put two pegs between her lips and at once order was restored; the screeching stopped and the dog rolled over at her feet in a fit of exhaustion.

      ‘Thank God for that.’ Tom was greatly relieved.

      ‘You’d miss me if I wasn’t here to sing you a lullaby.’ Taking the pegs out of her mouth, Beth used them to secure the sheet to the clothes-line.

      ‘Don’t count on it,’ he replied, though he felt a shiver of fear at the idea of her not being around. He had wooed Beth when they were both in their late teens, and they’d been together ever since. The thought that there might come a day when she wasn’t at his side, was unthinkable.

      ‘Your breakfast will be ready in ten minutes.’ Taking up the clothes prop, she lifted the washing-line to catch the breeze.

      ‘Any chance of an extra slice o’ bacon this morning?’ Tom peered out of the stable to see her going across the yard, a plump figure with a few strands of grey in her hair, but a pretty thing all the same.

      ‘No chance at all,’ she replied. ‘You’ll get one slice and think yourself lucky.’

      Having witnessed the conversation, Judy dashed downstairs and promptly threw another couple of slices into the frying-pan. She knew all too well how her parents loved to tease each other.

      Having left her clothes-basket by the back door, Beth came into the kitchen to check on the breakfast cooking. ‘Morning, lass.’ As always, her smile was bright and cheerful. ‘You’re up early for a Saturday.’ Glancing at the wall clock, she noted it was still only eight-thirty. ‘Couldn’t sleep, eh?’

      ‘No, Mam.’ The girl tried hard to keep a straight face. ‘I had this terrible nightmare.’

      ‘Aw, pet.’ Beth was quickly across the room, her chubby arms outstretched to give her daughter a hug. ‘Bad, was it?’

      ‘Oh, Mam, it was just awful.’ Keeping her composure, Judy returned her mother’s embrace. ‘There was this noise … a kind of unearthly wailing. I thought the devil himself was after me.’

      And then she was laughing, and her mother too. ‘You little sod, you!’ Thrusting her away, Beth chided, ‘You and your father have no appreciation of a good voice.’ With that she grabbed the kettle, filled it with water and put it on the gas ring. ‘Your dad wants a couple more slices of bacon.’

      ‘Already done.’ Judy scooped out the slices, along with four plump sausages, from the frying pan and transferred them to a dish that she placed under the low-lit grill. She then cracked the shells of four eggs, which were soon sizzling and spitting in the pan, while her mother washed her hands and made a start on the bread and butter.

      A few minutes later, the table was laid; Tom’s plate was dressed with two plump sausages, two slices of crispy bacon, and two eggs with swollen yolks ready for bursting. The remainder was shared equally between Beth and Judy.

      ‘By!’ Tom walked