Josephine Cox Mother’s Day 3-Book Collection: Live the Dream, Lovers and Liars, The Beachcomber

Closing the front door behind her, Kathy threw off her coat. Going to the table, she sat herself down. The handwriting was childish, but she knew whose it was.

Ripping open the envelope, she read the first line. It was enough to tell her that the letter really was from Maggie.

As she read she began to smile, then she tittered, then she was laughing out loud. In full colour and with her incorrigible sense of humour, Maggie had written a lengthy account of her recent exploits. It began:

Hello, Kathy, old gal,

What yer been up to then, eh? Whatever it is, I bet yer ain’t been having as much fun as your old friend, Maggie.

What have I been up to now, you may well ask. Well, I’ll tell you. First of all, that arsehole of a manager at the pictures gave me the bleeding sack! Would you believe it, eh? Bloody cheek! And me the best usherette he’s ever had … no, not in that way, gal … I mean, I’m the best usherette he’s ever had … under the table, and on it. In between the rows of seats after everybody’s gone home, and anywhere else that took our fancy.

Only I had this unholy row with this old woman, and her snotty-nosed ratbag of a kid! I’d like to have wrung both their bleedin’ necks, only I never got the chance. Anyway, the upshot of it all is this; me and the old cow got into another fight, and there was this other old bugger who went berserk with an umbrella, and all hell were let loose. Everybody walked out and the manager had to pay money back, and I got the blame … as usual!

So then I got the sack, but he paid me well, though I bet he wished to God he hadn’t, ’cause I phoned his wife and said he were sick. Then I teased the old bugger like there was no tomorrow. When his wife walked in, I started crying an’ screaming about how he’d taken advantage of me, poor girl that I am. She offered me money to keep my mouth shut – all to do with pride and shame I expect. Truth is, gal, I don’t give a bugger what it’s to do with, so long as it’s me as comes off best in the end, which this time I did!

Anyway, that’s all my news, except to say I ain’t forgot where yer are, gal, don’t think that. Now I got some money, I’m hoping to have a little holiday. One o’ these fine days, I’ll turn up on your doorstep like a bad penny, you see if I don’t.

Till then, take care of yourself, gal.

Luv yer till the cows come home, Maggie.

There was spilt ink and coffee stains all over the pages. ‘You’ll never change, will you, Mags, and thank God for that.’ Kathy had laughed so hard her sides ached. She longed to see her friend.

She turned her attention to the chores of the day.

The laundry was her first task. Being used to taking her clothes to the laundry in Acton, and washing out her smalls in the sink, she had found it hard to get used to the copper-boiler that sat in the corner of the outhouse. She still washed her smalls in the bath, but for sheets and towels and anything heavy she had learned to use the boiler; though she had seen an advertisement for a twin-tub washing machine that she meant to buy when she had enough money. For now, though, it was sleeves rolled up and get on with it.

When the water was boiling she dropped the clothes in one by one, submerging them with the help of a long wooden stick which stood beside the boiler. When the clothes were rising and steeping, she went back inside the house.

Taking a newspaper and handbrush, she went to the fire-grate, where she dropped to her knees. It wasn’t a hard job, but it was dirty and dusty. So, she went slowly … shovelling the ashes out from underneath and placing them ever so gently into the laid-out newspaper.

When the ashes were all out, and the cinders piled onto the grating ready for the next fire, she folded the newspaper to make a little bag. She then carried the bag out to the bin, and returned to the kitchen.

Taking a floorcloth from the cupboard, she wet it through, wrung it out, and, going into the sitting room, wiped the hearth over until it shone. Next, she made a fan of the leftover newspapers, and set it in the hearth.

She then dusted the furniture and plumped the sofa cushions. All that remained was for her to go into the stair-cupboard and take out the carpet-sweeper.

This was a job she hated, because the stiff bristles on the carpet-sweeper soon got clogged up and needed cleaning every five minutes or so. Still, she told herself, it did a good job and that was all that mattered. ‘I need one of those vacuum cleaners,’ she muttered as she worked. That was another thing she meant to buy when she could afford it. There were a few things she needed, but they weren’t yet priorities on her list.

When the carpet was cleaned, she put away the sweeper and checked the washing; it was ready. Filling the deep pot sink with cold water, she took up the stick; teasing the clothes out one by one, she slid them into the sink, her face bright pink as the warm steam rose like a cloud to envelop her.

She gave the clothes a thorough rinsing, before wringing them out and folding them into her laundry-basket. Next, the boiler was emptied and the job done. ‘Thank goodness for that!’ It was the worst chore of all, she thought.

It didn’t take long to peg them out. Ten minutes later, they were hanging on the line, limp and dripping; until she sent the line sky-high with her wooden prop. Then the clothes caught the breeze and came alive, dancing and leaping about like crazy things.

Stooping to collect the stray pegs from the ground, Kathy was astonished to hear a voice calling her name. ‘Yoo-hoo! Where are ye, gal?’

Kathy couldn’t believe her ears. ‘MAGGIE!’ Dropping the pegs, she ran to the side gate, and there was Maggie, peering over the top and grinning from ear to ear, asking to be let in. ‘If this is the way you treat yer visitors, I might not come ’ere again!’ she said with feigned disgust.

Throwing open the gate, Kathy grabbed her in a fast embrace. ‘What are you doing here? Why didn’t you let me know?’ The questions came thick and fast, with Maggie claiming she was ‘gasping for a cuppa’ and that she would answer all her questions when she’d been ‘fed and watered’.

Once inside, Maggie asked to be shown round the house, examining every nook and cranny, and making comments as she went. With wide, wondering eyes, she went from room to room upstairs and down. ‘Cor! Some place this is, gal,’ she remarked proudly. ‘Whatever will yer do with all this space?’

Kathy sighed. ‘Oh, I expect I’ll have to manage somehow,’ she answered with a chuckle.

‘What! Ye could get three o’ my flats in ’ere an’ no mistake!’ Maggie couldn’t believe that Kathy had been fortunate enough to be left such a beautiful place. ‘An’ you’ve got it so pretty, gal,’ she said admiringly, ‘but then you were allus good at that kinda thing.’

Kathy was glad Maggie had given her approval. It meant a lot for her friend to appreciate her home. ‘You’re staying with me for a long time, aren’t you?’ she asked hopefully.

Maggie was cagey with her answer. ‘Head for the kitchen,’ she suggested, ‘make us a brew and see if ye can’t find a piece o’ cake or summat, an’ I’ll tell you me plans.’

First settling Maggie in the sitting room with a piece of fruit cake, Kathy set about making a pot of tea, which she then carried into the sitting room along with two cups and saucers, and another helping of cake, just in case Maggie was still hungry. ‘I can make you some cheese on toast if you like?’ she offered. ‘Or there’s two eggs in the cupboard … I can fry them or poach, whichever way you like.’

Maggie was satisfied. ‘The cake will do fine, gal,’ she replied, ‘but thanks all the same.’

Thrilled to see her friend, Kathy let herself get carried away. ‘How long will you stay … a week … two? Oh, Maggie! It’s so good to have you here.’

Maggie dashed all her hopes. ‘Sorry, gal,’ she said with a grimace, ‘but it’s only a flying visit. I’ll be starting a new job in a couple of days’ time, and I need to get back. I just grabbed the opportunity to come and see you, but I can only stay the one night. Still, now that I know where you are, I’ll make it my business to get back just as soon as I can. Then, maybe I can stay a while longer, eh?’

Kathy was disappointed and it showed, but she did her best to make Maggie feel comfortable. ‘Never mind,’ she said, ‘as long as you’re here now, and yes, maybe next time we can enjoy a week or so together. Oh, Maggie! I’ve got so much to tell you.’

They sat and talked for a time, about how Kathy was settling in, and how she thought she would be happy here in West Bay, and the two of them were so obviously delighted to be in each other’s company again, even if it was for such a short time.

‘And are you going to show me what this place is like then?’ Maggie asked pointedly. ‘I’ll tell yer what I really fancy … a piping hot bag o’ fish and chips.’

‘Then you’ll not be disappointed,’ Kathy promised her.

It was mid-afternoon by the time Jasper arrived in Bletchley. Then he had a short bus-ride to Woburn, before he found himself in the prettiest village. ‘By! She certainly chose an interesting place to live.’ Impressed by the main street, which was a hive of little craft shops, tall Georgian houses all in a row, and a smattering of cafés and quaint old pubs, he took a minute to glance at the directions that Liz had sent him.

There was a little hand-drawn map. He studied it, mumbling as he read, ‘Straight up the High Street, past the Bull Inn; keep going, with the market square on your right. Then you pass the Town Hall. Cross the road to a terrace of cottages. You’ll find us at number eight … third along.’

Folding the letter into his pocket, he could see the Bull Inn from where he stood. ‘By! I could do with summat to wet me whistle,’ he muttered. But then he decided the pint of good stuff could wait. Right now, he had other priorities.

Following Liz’s directions to the letter, he eventually came to the row of cottages, as she’d described. Number eight had a pretty red door and a black lion’s-head knocker. He was about to raise the knocker when there came a shout from some way behind him. ‘JASPER!’ As he turned he was almost knocked over by a brown-haired lad, who wrapped himself round Jasper so hard that the old man could hardly breathe. ‘Oh, Jasper, you came to see us!’ Looking up, the boy was in tears. ‘I never thought you’d come. I never thought I’d see you again!’ Laughing now, he held onto Jasper as though he would never let go.

Taking the lad by the shoulders, the old man smiled down on him. ‘By! Look at you … all growed up and handsome as ever.’ Cradling his hands round the boy’s face, his voice shook with emotion. He hadn’t realised until now just how much he’d missed him. ‘What med yer think I’d not come to see you, eh? Yer shoulda known better.’

The boy looked round. ‘Have you brought my daddy?’

‘No, son, I haven’t seen your daddy.’ Now, as the boy dropped his gaze to the ground, the old man thought how like Robert he looked, and how much of a shock it would be for Kathy if ever she saw him. ‘Where’s yer mam?’

‘There!’ Quickly hiding his disappointment, the boy pointed. Jasper turned and there she was, almost on them now. Waving and smiling, she began running, with the old man’s fond gaze following her every move. Lovely as ever, with her hair plaited back, and her figure slim and elegant as before, he felt a pang of sorrow at the way she and Robert had been torn apart in such a cruel way.

Dropping her basket to the ground, she threw herself at him, holding onto him as fiercely as the boy had done, as though she was afraid he might suddenly disappear.

After a moment, she drew away. ‘You can’t know how good it is to see you,’ she murmured, and Jasper felt the same.

Holding the boy’s hand, he followed her inside. ‘You look well,’ he remarked. ‘You’ve not changed, either of yer.’ Yet they had, he thought. They seemed older, mellowed somehow, and the light of joy had gone from their eyes. He supposed that was because of Robert, and the circumstances which drove them from West Bay, a place they loved as much as he did. At his words, Liz turned, her whimsical smile betraying what was in her heart.