A Mother’s Gift: Two Classic Novels. Josephine Cox
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‘Dear, dear!’ With an aside wink, Adam tutted loudly. ‘Interfering again, is she? Mind you, I can’t say I blame her.’
With her sound and wary experience of men, Lucy could tell the wheat from the chaff. Mary, on the other hand, was more trusting and less worldly-wise. The lass was not what you might call beautiful, but she was a good-looking young woman all the same, with a heart of gold and a great deal to offer. Adam had no doubt but that she would make some man a loving and loyal wife one of these days.
With Mary gone, Lucy bade Adam sit in the chair opposite her. ‘Have you done what I asked?’ she said in a low voice.
He nodded. ‘I have. I drove straight up to Liverpool early yesterday and went to see him at his house.’
Lucy gave a long, deep sigh. ‘Thank you. I knew I could rely on you.’ Her eyes clouded with tears, she asked next, ‘What did he say?’
Adam was reluctant to disappoint her. ‘He was surprised to hear from me. I mean, it’s been a good few years, hasn’t it?’
She nodded. ‘Nigh on twenty, plus there’s been the war and all. And is he well?’
‘None too bad, yes.’
‘What was his answer?’
The man had no choice but to relay the truth. ‘Sorry, Lucy. Much as he would love to see you again, he can’t visit. At least not yet.’
Lucy was dismayed at the news. ‘Oh Adam, why not?’ Disappointment shook her voice. ‘Why can’t he come down here?’
Adam explained: ‘He’s been ill for some time, see – bronchitis and some sort of complication, like pleurisy. He’s only now beginning to come through it. He’s not as young as he used to be, think on. None of us are.’
Lucy nodded her understanding. ‘He can’t help being ill, I suppose,’ she said.
‘But he sends his regards and says you’re to take care of yourself, and he promises to come and visit at the first opportunity.’ Fishing in his pocket, Adam handed her an envelope. ‘He asked me to give you this.’
Taking the envelope, Lucy tore it open and took out the letter, which she read aloud:
My dearest Lucy,
How wonderful to hear from you, after all these long years. I hope you are well, and that you’re being your usual self … living life to the full, the brave young woman I remember from my days as a doctor.
I don’t need to tell you how sorry I was to hear about Barney’s death. Like you, I will never forget him, or what he did. When he begged me to keep his secret, I wrestled with my conscience but God help me, I could not refuse him.
Over the years, I have often thought of Barney, and his impossible situation, but I have never regretted doing what I did; nor I imagine did he.
Take care of yourself, Lucy my dear, and when I’m well enough, I promise I will come and visit. It will be just the tonic I need, I’m sure.
May I say, I was most pleased and surprised to see Adam Chives; your dear friend who, as I understand it, is never far from your side … as ever.
Best wishes. May God bless you both,
Raymond Lucas
Lying back in the chair, Lucy closed her eyes. For a long moment she remained silent.
‘Lucy!’ Adam knew she was bitterly disappointed. ‘He will visit – he said so, and as I recall, he was always a man of his word.’
‘I know.’ She opened her eyes, which were bright with tears. ‘Poor Raymond. I don’t doubt he’s had his own fair share of problems, but oh, it would have been so good to see him.’ She paused, suddenly exhausted. ‘Jamie …’ she whispered.
Concerned, Adam touched her on the hand. ‘Are you all right, lass?’
‘It’s brought everything back, that’s all.’ Needing to reassure him, she gave her brightest smile, and for the briefest moment he saw her as she had been all those years ago – young and vibrant; hardworking and so generous of heart.
‘So tell me, Lucy, what was the real reason behind your need to see him?’
‘What d’you mean?’ Lucy demanded.
Adam knew she could be wily. ‘What I mean is this: are you ill and not telling?’
‘If I was ill, you’d soon know about it,’ she lied. Carefully choosing her words, she went on, ‘You remember how it was all those years ago, don’t you?’
‘Of course I remember.’ Looking away, he saw it all in his mind’s eye. He had often wondered whether, if he had been put through the same test as Barney, he could have been as strong. ‘I remember it all,’ he whispered. ‘How could I forget?’
‘And you recall what a valued friend Dr Lucas was?’ Her voice shook. Oh, the memories! She swallowed hard and went on: ‘I just thought it might be nice to renew an old friendship.’
The truth was, Lucy had other reasons for wanting him here, but she didn’t want to worry anyone. Not yet. Although the doctors hereabouts were fine, experienced men, she could not bring herself to trust them for something this serious. If there was one man who would tell her the truth, it was Raymond Lucas.
‘I’m getting older, Adam. As each day passes, the memories become more vivid.’ She drew herself up. ‘I need to thank Dr Lucas for what he did. I want to see him, that’s all … before it’s too late.’
Alarmed, the little man looked her in the eye. ‘Are you sure there’s something you’re not telling me?’
‘Such as what?’
Dismissing her question he asked, ‘What exactly did Dr Nolan say to you when he saw you at the surgery last week?’
She tutted. ‘I’ve already told you. He said I needed to slow down. That I was exhausted.’
‘And that’s all? Nothing else?’
Tutting again, Lucy snapped, ‘Stop fretting! I’ve already told you, I’m fit as a fiddle – for an old ’un anyway.’ She chuckled, ‘If they want rid of me, they’ll have to shoot me first.’
There was a lengthy silence, charged with things unsaid. The bond between them was deep.
Even though the passage of their lives was already well run, there was nothing Adam Chives wanted more than to make Lucy Davidson his wife. He longed to take care of her, spoil her, hold her tight when she was sad and laugh with her when she was happy. To be there when she went to sleep and waiting beside her when she awoke; to share every precious moment of her life. That was all he had wanted for a long, long time.
Lucy knew it had been on the tip of his tongue to propose to her. She recognised the signs, the twinkle in his eye and the ache in his voice, and she had to disappoint him yet again. ‘I don’t want you worrying about me, old friend. You just need to remember, I’m no longer a spring chicken – and the same goes for you.’ Sometimes her bones ached until she thought they would seize up altogether, and on occasions, when she had walked with her stick too far, her fingers curled round the handle and would not let go.
Reaching out, she took hold of his hand. ‘I’m a lucky woman to have such a friend – the very best friend any woman could ever have.’ Except for Barney, she thought. But then he had been more than a friend. He had been everything to her: friend, hero, lover, soulmate and confidant. All the men in the world rolled into one could never replace her beloved Barney.
Yet she owed this dear man so much. ‘I could never have got through these past years without you.’ She squeezed his hand fondly. ‘You have to believe that.’
Gazing