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

‘Davie!’

‘No … well, yes he was, only we didn’t see him at first. He must have sneaked into the back of the church before the service started.’

‘So, what’s happening with him? Has he gone back to his grandad?’

‘No.’ If only he had, Judy thought sadly. If only things could be the same as before, when Davie was never far away.

‘So where is he then?’ Annie doggedly pursued it.

‘Gone away.’

‘Where to?’

‘I don’t know … and neither does his grandad. I’m so worried about him, Annie.’ Her voice fell. ‘May be he won’t ever come back.’

‘Hmh!’ Annie had seen Davie and Judy together a few times and she had sensed the affection between them. She believed it was more than just friendship. Just occasionally, Annie had caught Davie looking at Judy in a certain way. ‘You do know that Davie loves you,’ she said casually. ‘I mean really loves you, and not like a brother neither.’

‘Don’t be daft!’ A warm blush spread over the other girl’s face and down her neck.

‘I’m not being daft.’ Annie turned into the corner shop and Judy followed. After Judy had bought the sweets and crisps, it was her friend’s turn. ‘A bottle of pop and two meat and tatty pies.’ She slapped the coin onto the counter. ‘And if there’s enough left over, we’ll have two ounces of jelly babies.’

‘Hey!’ Leaning forward, the big man spread the palms of his huge hands on the counter. ‘Lost your manners on the way here, did you?’ he asked sharply.

Seeing that he wasn’t about to serve them unless she asked politely, Annie grudgingly added, ‘Please.’

‘Hmh!’ Taking a bottle of pop from the shelf behind him, he placed it on the counter. ‘It really hurt you to say that, didn’t it?’

Ignoring his comment, Annie cheekily reminded him, ‘All I want are two meat and tatty pies – if you please. And some jelly babies.’

Delivering her a scathing glance, he served all of that, and a penny change into the bargain. ‘You’re a sullen little bugger,’ he said. ‘If you were mine you’d not stand for a week!’

‘Oh, yeah? Beat me black and blue, would you?’

‘Teach you a few manners, that’s what.’ He pointed to the door. ‘Go on, be off with you!’

As Judy and Annie went out the door, his wife sidled up behind him. ‘Right little madam, she is.’ His wife was usually the one who served Annie. ‘Such an angry child. I can’t make her out.’

‘She’s no child,’ he grunted. ‘More like a monster in the making.’

‘You’re right, love.’ Tutting and complaining, the little woman scurried away with a parting remark. ‘How that nice Mrs Needham ever gave birth to that one, I never will know.’

‘Why are you always so sharp with people, Annie?’ Carrying the bottle of pop under her arm, Judy followed her friend down the bank to the canal.

‘I’m not!’ Having got to the canal edge, Annie threw off her coat and spread it inside-out on the grass.

‘Yes, you are.’ Taking off her own smart jacket, Judy did the same. ‘Sometimes it’s as if you want to fight the world.’

Annie shrugged it off. ‘I bags first swig of the pop.’

Handing her the bottle of Tizer, Judy asked, ‘Is there anything wrong? ’Cause if there is, you know you can tell me.’

Judy couldn’t imagine there being anything wrong though, because Annie had a good home and a loving family. And as far as she knew, there was no one at school who gave Annie any trouble. In fact, they all seemed to steer clear of her, because of her trouble making antics.

‘There’s nothing wrong!’ Annie snapped, and she took a long drink from the bottle. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said lamely, handing the bottle back. ‘I don’t mean to moan and grumble, only sometimes I feel so trapped, I just want to take off.’

‘But why? And where would you go?’

There was a long pause before Annie answered, and for a moment it seemed as though she was ready to impart something; a secret that haunted her.

‘Annie, I know there’s something you want to tell me,’ Judy urged. ‘If it’s a secret, I won’t tell anyone – you know that.’

Shaking off the dark mood that threatened to envelop her, Annie took hold of Judy’s hand. ‘There is something I need to tell you,’ she said. ‘It’s just that – well, I want you to know that I could never be angry with you,’ she said quietly. ‘You’re the only friend I’ve got.’ Beyond that, she was not forthcoming.

Still convinced that Annie was harbouring something too painful to speak about, Judy made a last attempt to get it out of her. ‘Promise me, Annie,’ she urged. ‘If you’re ever worried about anything, you would tell me, wouldn’t you?’

Instead of giving a straightforward answer, Annie replied disarmingly, ‘What is there for me to worry about?’

Judy gave it a thought. ‘You’re right,’ she said. ‘You’re really lucky, Annie. You’ve got an older brother, and you seem such a close family. I wish I had a sister or brother, but there’s only me, now Davie’s gone. Sometimes it feels really lonely, especially at night when I go up to my bedroom, and there’s nobody to talk to. Oh, I know I’ve got me mam and dad, and I love them madly, but it would be nice to have a sister.’

Annie hugged her. ‘And instead you’ve got me,’ she laughed. ‘A loud-mouthed, miserable sod who wants to fight the world. Is that what you’re trying to say?’

‘You know that’s not what I’m saying.’

‘Well, consider me your sister. How’s that?’

‘That’s just fine.’ And now that it was settled, they sat down to enjoy their food.

For the next hour, they talked and laughed and exchanged confidences, about their favourite film stars and songs. Annie was dead smitten by Guy Mitchell, the handsome American vocalist. Both girls loved listening to Two-Way Family Favourites on a Sunday morning, when requests were played by Jean Metcalfe. You had to have someone in the Forces, though, to send in a request.

‘Ooh, I could listen to him all day,’ mooned Annie.

The two girls watched the barges go by, and waved to the man at the tiller, and when the food was finished, they picked up their coats and strolled along the canal towpath. ‘Hey, look lively, you two day dreamers! You’d best move, unless you want trampling to a pulp!’

Leading the horse along the towpath, the bargee had nowhere to go but onwards. Shafted to a wide strong harness, the huge powerful shire-horse was bent forward, using his great strength to draw the barge along in the water.

Leaping out of the way, the two girls went up on the bank and remained there, until the horse had pulled the barge to a wider part of the canal.

Suddenly, a brightly coloured ball came bouncing past with a little boy chasing it, and behind him ran a woman who caught the boy by the scruff of his neck. ‘What have I told you before, Charlie? You are not to run near the edge of the water.’

Her companion was obviously her husband and the boy’s father; tall and pleasant-looking, he appeared to be in his early forties and in his smart, double-breasted overcoat, he had the air of a successful businessman. ‘Charles! You listen to your mother and do what she tells you!’ Taking the ball from the child, he gave him a stern though not unkind scolding. ‘I intend keeping this until you learn to do as you’re told. It’s for your own good. Now get between me and your mammy.’ He tempered his rebuke with a forgiving smile. ‘You can still see the ducks without diving in amongst them.’

A moment later, with his mammy holding his hand on one side and his daddy holding his other hand, the small boy walked happily along the towpath.

Annie winked at Judy. ‘He’s a bit of all right, don’t you think?’ She gestured to the man. ‘I’ll bet he’s not short of a bob or two neither.’

Judy didn’t think the man was anything special. In fact, compared with Davie’s dad, Don, he wasn’t worth a second glance. Annie was right on one count though, because unlike Don, this man probably was worth a bob or two. But Don was far more good-looking for a man of his age; he was full of the Irish blarney, and he had a cheeky smile, just like Davie.

A fleeting thought crossed her mind. What if Don never found out what happened after he left, and what if he and Davie never saw each other again? She swallowed.