Josephine Cox 3-Book Collection 1: Midnight, Blood Brothers, Songbird

‘Yes, she was.’ Libby had seen the photographs, and was struck by how attractive her mother had been as a young woman. ‘She’ll always be beautiful to me,’ she said, a little wistfully.

‘I’m sure she will.’ Madge understood. She could only imagine how hard it must be for Libby to deal with the current situation. ‘I meant no offence, talking like that about your friend Thomas. He sounds like a really decent bloke.’ She gave a weary little sigh. ‘They’re few and far between, I can tell you.’

‘It’s all right, Madge,’ said Libby. ‘No offence taken.’

‘So, what have you got planned for this weekend?’

‘Well, if it’s warm enough, I’ve promised Mother a picnic in Corporation Park.’

‘Oh, how wonderful! It’s so lovely there, and peaceful. You can always find a quiet spot by the man-made lake, where you can feed the ducks and watch the children playing. Or there are plenty of quiet little nooks in the gardens, where you can while away the time, listening to the birds.’

‘You can meet up with us, if you like.’ Libby had always assumed that Madge preferred her own company, but after this conversation, she was not so sure. Maybe the reason she had never married was not because she didn’t want to, but because her standards were too high. Maybe Madge was not prepared to settle for less than the perfect man.

‘Thank you, Libby. I appreciate that, but I’m on duty here tomorrow. I have some urgent paperwork to be getting on with. See you on Monday – have a great weekend!’

But after Libby was gone, her thoughts returned to Thomas. ‘By the sound of it, he’s a man with a heart. I wouldn’t mind a man like that,’ she sighed. ‘A man who would love me and take good care of me.’

She rolled her eyes at such dreams and fancies. ‘You’re an idiot, Madge,’ she told herself. ‘You’re long past all that now, so get used to it!’

As Libby walked home, she thought about what Madge had said, about Thomas fancying her mother. She chuckled to herself. If Thomas were to make advances to Eileen, her mother would probably clip his ear.

At that very moment, Thomas emerged from his kitchen with a tray of goodies. Taking them out to the garden where Eileen was waiting, he told her, ‘We’ve got a couple of cheese sandwiches and a piece of Battenberg cake. How’s that?’

Shifting forward on the bench, Eileen cast her gaze over the tray’s contents. ‘Oh, Battenberg!’ she clapped her hands like a child. ‘Lovely, Thomas!’

‘Good.’ He set the tray on the table between them. ‘Well, at least I’ve managed to put a smile on your face.’ He had been concerned earlier, when they were in the park, that Eileen seemed unduly restless. But then, she often got that way. One minute she was right as rain, and the next she was like a naughty child. He was not overly concerned, because over the years, he had learned how to pacify her.

Now, though, he did as he always did when they were having tea in the garden. He poured the tea and made sure to add enough milk to cool it down. When Eileen took up the spoon and began frantically shovelling sugar into the cup, he gently took away the spoon. Then, taking his empty cup, he filled it with tea, slid the cup over to her and spooned in two sugars. ‘You don’t want to be rotting your lovely teeth,’ he told her. ‘You know what Libby would say if she saw you putting all that sugar in your cup.’

Making big eyes, Eileen looked towards the gate. ‘She didn’t see me, did she?’

Thomas shook his head. ‘No, she didn’t see you.’

Suddenly, from somewhere in the garden, the angelic tones of a songbird filtered through the air. ‘Oh, listen . . .’ Eileen put her finger to her lips. ‘Isn’t that beautiful?’

But Thomas was not listening to the birdsong. Instead, he was looking at Eileen, and his old heart was turned over with love. ‘Yes, it is beautiful, my darling,’ he whispered, ‘but not as beautiful as you.’

Leaning over, he drew the fleecy blanket further across her knees. ‘Be careful with the tea, now. Don’t drink it too quickly, or you might scald yourself.’ While she sipped, he held his hand under the saucer.

‘I’m not a baby. I won’t scald myself.’ When she smiled up at him, he wanted to hold her and kiss her, and tell her how much she had come to mean to him. But he would never tell her. Not when Eileen was so very poorly. He felt ashamed, to be thinking of her in such a way.

The truth was, he had come to love this delightful woman, and the more he witnessed how helpless she could be, the more he felt he should take care of her. But he would then remind himself that it was not his place. He had no right. So, for everyone’s sake, he kept his feelings to himself.

Libby was doing a marvellous job with her mother, but it saddened him to see her so tied down. He had always thought she should have a life of her own, with a husband, and children running round her feet. Yet here she was, a vibrant young woman, devoting her life to looking after her sick mother. Life was very cruel, he thought.

By the time Libby arrived to collect her mother, Thomas had her ready and waiting, and clutching a bunch of wild flowers. ‘Me and Thomas picked these,’ Eileen announced proudly. ‘Oh, Libby, we had such a good time.’ Turning to Thomas, she urged him, ‘We did, didn’t we, Thomas?’

‘We certainly did,’ he said grandly. ‘What’s more, we fed the ducks, and afterwards we drove into town and had fish and chips.’

‘And mushy peas!’ Eileen clapped her hands together.

Thomas laughed, ‘Yes, we did. And, if the weather permits, we’ll do it again next week.’

‘We could go on one of them boats, couldn’t we, Thomas?’

‘Ah, well, I don’t know about that.’ Thomas thought it best not to make promises. ‘That would be up to Libby,’ he said. ‘But first, you and Libby have got this whole weekend to enjoy.’ He went with them to the door.

‘Thank you, Thomas.’ Libby could see how happy her mother was. ‘I really appreciate what you do for us.’

‘It’s my pleasure,’ he told her sincerely. ‘I’m sure you already know that. And besides, what a sad, lonely old man I’d be, if I didn’t have you two to keep me on my toes!’

Libby gave him a kiss, and not to be outdone, Eileen did the same. ‘I love you,’ she told him, and he answered with a smile, ‘I love you too,’ as he gently ushered her out of the door. ‘Both of you.’

Worn out by the busy day, Eileen soon fell asleep in front of the telly. Coming in from the kitchen, Libby gently touched her on the arm. ‘Ready for your bath, are you?’

‘I don’t want a bath.’ Eileen was adamant. ‘I’m not dirty, so why do I need a bath?’

Recognising the signs of an argument in the offing, Libby said reassuringly, ‘No, Mum, you’re not dirty, and no one said you were. If you don’t want a bath, a wash will do just fine.’

‘I’m tired!’

‘So, we’ll make it a quick wash. Then I’ll put you to bed. Agreed?’

Eileen’s answer was to settle herself in the chair and prepare to go back to sleep.

‘Mum?’

‘What now, child?’

‘I’m ready to take you upstairs.’

‘Why am I going upstairs?’

‘Because it’s gone ten o’clock, and you’re falling asleep in your chair. Wouldn’t you rather sleep in the comfort of your bed?’

Rubbing her eyes, Eileen looked up at her daughter. ‘Libby?’

‘Yes, Mum?’

‘You’re a good girl.’

‘Well, thank you.’ She had abandoned ever trying to follow her mother’s train of thought. ‘So now, are you ready to go upstairs?’

‘If you like.’

‘Come on, then.’ She helped Eileen out of the chair, before taking her step by careful step up to the bedroom. Having decided that her mother was too weary to go into the bathroom, she then got her into her nightgown and seated her on the edge of the bed. ‘You sit there a minute,’ she said. ‘I won’t be long.’

She hurried to the bathroom, where she quickly ran a measure of both hot and cold water into a bowl, before swishing it about with her fingers. Gathering flannel, soap and towel, she hurried back to the bedroom and helped her mother to wash.