Josephine Cox 3-Book Collection 2: The Loner, Born Bad, Three Letters

Annie was a strapping, dark-haired girl, the antithesis of Judy in many ways, being wild and rebellious, sometimes lazy and argumentative, and above all – flirtatious. But underneath all that, Judy had found her to be a caring and loyal friend. And when Annie wanted to fight the world, Judy’s quiet nature and wise observations had a calming influence on the girl. Like the hand and the glove, these two opposites seemed to fit together incredibly well. And just at this lonely, confused moment in her life, Judy longed for her friend’s no-nonsense approach.

‘Aye, lass, why not. Might do you a power of good.’ Beth thoroughly approved of Evie Needham, Annie’s mother, who was an ordinary, hardworking woman, content with her lot, much like Beth herself. Evie liked a good old chat and was always ready for a laugh, although her husband was much shyer. However, Beth was not so keen on Annie herself, considering her to be a difficult girl, cheeky and insolent. What on earth Judy saw in her, she couldn’t tell – but she liked to see her daughter being happy and so she kept quiet about her reservations.

‘Dad will let you off at the top of Derwent Street,’ she went on, ‘but you must catch the early evening bus home. I don’t want you wandering the streets alone at all hours.’

‘All right, Mam, I will – I promise.’ Judy decided to go into the corner shop later on and buy some toffee pincushions for her and Annie to share. The other girl loved them. She also had enough pocket money left to buy two bags of Smith’s crisps as well. She enjoyed opening the little blue twist of paper containing the salt, and sprinkling it over the crinkly brown crisps.

As Tom turned into Derwent Street, the car began coughing and spluttering. ‘It’s time you treated yourself to a new vehicle,’ Beth told him straight. ‘This contraption was a bad buy when you got it, and if you ask me, it’s on its last legs.’

‘Give over, woman. This’ll do me. Anyway, I can’t afford no new vehicle,’ he replied indignantly. ‘I’m a farmer, and a milkman, to earn a few extra bob. I’ve got no fancy money to be changing vehicles.’ He grinned wickedly. ‘Now, if you were to talk about a new young bull to serve the cows … well, happen if I were pushed, I might find the money for that.’

‘You’ll do no such thing!’ Beth gave him one of her stern looks. ‘If you’ve got money to spare, you can get me a new bathroom. That’s what’s most needed, never mind bulls and the like!’

Seated comfortably in the back, Judy was kept amused by her parents’ good-natured banter.

Annie Needham was playing hopscotch out on the pavement by herself when she saw them turn the corner. ‘Mam, it’s Judy!’ she called in through the front door. Running to the kerb, she waited for them to arrive.

‘This is a nice street, don’t you think, Tom?’ Beth had a liking for Derwent Street. Long and meandering, it was flanked by small square houses with high windows dressed in pretty lace curtains. There was a cast-iron lamp-post at either end; an ancient pub with bay windows on one corner, and a shop straddling the corner at the other end. ‘If I weren’t so happy on the farm, I reckon I wouldn’t mind living along here.’

Her husband smiled knowingly. ‘You’re as likely to leave the farm as I am to walk stark naked through a busy marketplace,’ he teased. ‘Anyway, why d’you think I married you, eh?’

Beth smiled at the idea of him walking naked past fat Lily on the fish-stall; bold as brass and twice as crude, she made no secret of her fancy for Tom. ‘I’ve no idea,’ she replied, ‘but I’m sure you’re about to tell me.’

‘I married you, because you have the same passion for the land as I have.’

‘Is that so?’ Beth feigned indignation. ‘So now the truth comes out, does it?’

‘What d’you mean?’

‘Well, here’s me thinking you married me because you loved me, and now I see how wrong I was.’ She winked at Judy, who knew her mammy was joshing anyway.

Tom, however, was completely wrong footed. ‘No … oh no! What I meant was … Oh dear,’ he stuttered, ‘it all came out wrong. I didn’t mean it like that.’

‘All right then. I forgive you.’ Her face relaxed into a cheeky grin, and he knew she had been toying with him.

‘Elizabeth Makepeace, you’re a right little madam, that’s what you are.’ Tom was visibly relieved. ‘You know very well I never wanted nobody but you … ever!’

‘I know that, you silly old fool! But happen that’s ’cause nobody else would have you.’ She gave him a sound kiss on the face, and all was well.

‘Hello, Mr Makepeace.’ Annie stepped forward as he wound down the window. ‘Mrs Makepeace.’ She peeped into the car at Beth. ‘All right are you?’

Beth thanked her kindly and said that yes, she was fine.

When Judy climbed out, still clad in her funeral clothes, Annie hugged her tight. ‘I’m so glad you’re here,’ she said. ‘Mam said you would have gone up to the church. I wanted to come too, but Mam wouldn’t let me. She said as how it would be hypocritical, as she didn’t approve of what Rita Adams had done to her family.’

‘Give my regards to your mam,’ Beth called as Tom pulled away, ‘and don’t forget what I said, Judy. You’re to get the early bus back.’

Evie Needham appeared at the door just then, covered in a dusting of flour and looking flustered. ‘Cheerio!’ She gave them a nod and a wave, showering the pavement with flour as she waved her hand.

‘Nice woman,’ Beth said as they chugged down the street. ‘Attractive in a quiet way’

‘Hmh.’ Tom gave her a sideways glance. ‘She’s only a little thing, isn’t she? Meks you wonder how she ever had such a lolloping great lump like young Annie.’

Beth rolled her eyes. ‘Tom! I must say, you have a wonderful way with words.’ But she had to chuckle, because he was right. As always.

When the two girls walked into the kitchen, Evie was up to her armpits in bread making. ‘We thought we might have a picnic down by the canal, Mam. Is there anything we can take with us?’ Going to the pantry, Annie began delving for treats. ‘Philip must have been in here,’ she grumbled. ‘The shelves are empty. I thought as there were a bit o’ bread pudding and some cold ham and egg pie.’

Evie apologised. ‘Your brother did take most of the food with him when he went to work this morning.’ Wiping her hands on a tea-towel, she dug into her pinnie pocket. ‘There’s two shillings.’ She gave the florin to Annie. ‘You should get a few treats with that. It can do for your tea. And don’t be back later than seven, Annie, or I’ll start to worry.’

‘OK, Mam – but I wish you wouldn’t treat me like a kid. I’m thirteen now – nearly old enough to leave school.’ All the way to the corner shop, Annie moaned about her older brother. ‘Greedy bugger! Phil doesn’t give a sod about anybody else but himself.’

‘We’ll be all right, Annie,’ Judy consoled her. ‘We’ll get a bottle of pop between us, and a couple of meat and tatty pies. With the sweets and crisps that’ll do us.’

Satisfied, Annie changed the subject. ‘How did it go at the church?’

‘All right, I suppose. Mam said there were more people there than she thought there’d be.’

‘So, who else went?’

‘Lots of Joseph’s workmates and some others I didn’t know. A few of his neighbours … Oh, and Ron and Patsy Reynolds.’

‘Ooh, I really fancy that Lenny Reynolds,’ Annie said wistfully, then she rolled her eyes, and gave a coy little grin. ‘D’you know he’s got his own market-stall, and the girls are all over him. He looks like a film star, and I bet he kisses really good.’ She feigned a swoon. ‘I’ll bet me and Lenny could show that Vivien Leigh and Clark Gable pair a thing or two.’

‘Behave yourself.’ Judy couldn’t help but smile. ‘It’s a good thing your mam didn’t hear you say that.’

‘Oh, I know. She would have given me one of her lectures, about not rushing my childhood and thinking of my future. She’d say I was too young to be worrying about boys and such.’ In a temper, she kicked a mound of grass into the canal. ‘I’m not too young! I’m fed up, that’s what I am. D’you know, I’ll be fourteen next year, and I’ve never had a boyfriend.’

Judy shuddered dramatically. ‘Don’t know as I want one.’

‘Liar! I bet you wouldn’t say no if it was Davie.’

With those tactless words echoing in the air, the conversation came to an abrupt end, with Annie wishing she could take back what she had just said, and the other girl feeling quietly bruised.

‘Sorry,’ Annie said awkwardly.

‘It’s all right.’ Judy shrugged her shoulders.

‘You think a lot of Davie, don’t you?’

Judy nodded silently.

‘And I’ve got a big mouth, which I always manage to put my foot in.’

‘I won’t argue with that.’ Judy laughed. Annie was Annie, and she said what she thought.

‘Was he there?’

‘Who?’