Lucy took a while to answer. To the others, she appeared calm and controlled, while inside, her heart and mind were in turmoil. How could she go there? How could she not? Yet she must. She must! Oh, but where in the name of God would she find the strength?
Suddenly her heart was open and her mind at peace. From Barney, she realised; that’s where she would find the strength.
‘You’re right, Adam.’ She smiled on him and his heart warmed. ‘It might be best to leave it until morning.’
Bridget had a suggestion. ‘I wouldn’t mind betting ye haven’t had a good meal all day, am I right?’
Up to now, Lucy had not felt hungry, but suddenly she was famished. ‘Why don’t we all have dinner at the hotel?’ she suggested, perking up.
‘Well, I never!’ Bridget cried excitedly. ‘You took the very words out of my mouth. It’ll be my treat, so it will, and no arguments.’
Neither Adam nor Amy needed much persuasion and so it was arranged. ‘You take yerselves off, and me and Amy will be there soonever we’ve painted our faces and put on our glad rags.’
At seven-thirty they gathered in the hotel bar. Having rested awhile, Lucy was now bathed and changed. She had on a black straight-skirted dress with blue collar and cuffs, and her hair was swept back into a loop and fastened with a daisy-chain pin. ‘You look lovely!’ Even if she was dressed in sacks, Adam would still think the same. In his eyes, Lucy was everything perfect.
All the same, Lucy was flattered. ‘You don’t look so bad yourself.’ In his dark suit and pale green shirt, he made a handsome figure.
Amy and Bridget arrived on time; Amy looking young and fresh in a brown two-piece, Bridget painted to the eyeballs with dark rouge, crimson lipstick, and the smartest bright green two-piece. ‘Don’t tell me,’ she laughed. ‘I look like a leprechaun.’ She cast a scathing glance at Amy. ‘Sure, haven’t I already been told that?’ Doing a twirl she fished for compliments, and got them a-plenty.
Spending a few minutes in the bar for a premeal drink, they were delighted when Mary and Ben came through the door. ‘What a lovely surprise! You’re just in time for dinner.’ Lucy gave them each a hug before proudly presenting them to Amy and Bridget.
‘Gawd love us!’ Bridget wrapped herself round Mary and squeezed her so hard, Lucy warned her she’d have her eyeballs out. ‘Look at her … she’s all grown up, so she is!’ There was no stopping Bridget once she started. ‘Oh, and isn’t she like her daddy! Oh Lucy, I can’t believe it.’
Becoming emotional, she was almost in tears, until Lucy told her firmly, ‘Behave yourself, and let the young ’uns get ready for dinner.’
An hour later, they all went through to the dining room.
The evening was perfect, the food was done to a treat, and the conversation at different times both sparkling and nostalgic; with Bridget unable to take her eyes off Mary, and Mary content to see her mother’s eyes shining with pleasure at being with her old friends.
Later, when they had a few minutes alone, she mentioned to Ben that tomorrow would be a difficult day for Lucy. ‘God only knows how she’ll cope when she goes to the churchyard and sees little Jamie’s grave. It’s bound to bring it all back with a vengeance.’
Ben had few doubts. ‘Your mother will cope like she always does,’ he assured her. ‘She’s the strongest, most determined woman I’ve ever met.’ Looking down at Lucy’s daughter, he observed the fine straight features and honest clear eyes, and his voice softened. ‘And you, my lovely, are a chip off the old block!’
The next day started badly for Lucy. She had not slept well. She saw the dawn light the skies and she heard the first birdsong, and for a time, she sat gazing out the window, her mind shot with all manner of mayhem.
This morning she would see the little cottage given to her by Leonard Maitland, her employer up at The Manse in the village of Comberton by Weir. This was the cottage where she and Barney had lived for a while before moving down to Salford, the cottage where Mary had been conceived, in love, in anguish. The same cottage where she had spent several idyllic months with her young son, enjoying the countryside and the company of their friends, the Davidsons. The cottage where she had shed so many tears, mourning the loss of his bright presence. Bittersweet memories that would never leave her.
Oh, why ever had she come here to this place which she had deliberately shut out of her life for so long? How would she cope? How could she force herself to go through with it all? Had she made a terrible mistake?
All the yearning in the world could never bring back what she craved; her firstborn son, her youth, Barney’s love – albeit a love that could never be as powerful and absorbing as hers was for him. It was all gone now. Time had rolled it away, out of sight but not out of mind. And some day, time would roll her away too, and Adam, and everything else she cherished.
It was a sobering thought, which made her even more appreciative and protective of the family she still had – Mary and Adam, and now Ben – and she still had her friends – friends she did not deserve, for hadn’t she deliberately distanced herself from them all this time?
After washing and dressing, and feeling more settled in her mind, Lucy went downstairs, where Adam was already waiting. ‘Sleep well, did you?’ His wide smile was all-enveloping.
‘Not too badly,’ she lied. ‘What I need more than anything right now, is a refreshing cup of tea and a plate of scrambled eggs on toast. That should set me up for the day.’
‘Then you shall have it.’ Holding out his arm he escorted her to the dining room, where they were led to a small round table by the window.
In no time at all, Lucy had her eggs and a handsome pot of tea, with the daintiest cup and saucer, and a jug of milk filled right to the top. ‘Just what the doctor ordered,’ she said, and Adam agreed, while eagerly tucking into a full and generous breakfast.
‘Talking about doctors,’ he remarked, ‘when do you intend seeing old Doctor Lucas?’
Lucy had been thinking about that. ‘Later,’ she said. ‘First of all, I’d like to show Mary the cottage where she was born, and the fields where her daddy and the rest of us broke our backs to bring in the harvest, but oh, Adam, they were such wonderful times, weren’t they?’
‘They certainly were.’ His eyes dimmed with emotion. The memories were powerful, painful in their beauty. Reaching out, he laid his hand over hers. ‘Wonderful times, yes,’ he agreed. ‘Sadly, long gone.’
He smiled encouragingly. ‘But we’re still here, you and me, and Mary, and soon, God willing, once she and Ben are wed, you might be a grandmother, and how would you like that, eh?’
Lucy smiled wistfully. ‘Grandma Lucy. Who would ever have thought it, eh? That young wild creature running barefoot across the fields … a grandmother.’
Just then Mary and Ben showed at the door. Catching Mary’s attention, Lucy gave a wave and the two of them came across.
‘I slept like a log,’ Mary said. ‘I think the long drive must have tired me.’
Ben told her jokingly how he was the one who should be tired, because he had done all the driving.
The waiter came across and they ordered bacon and eggs for Ben, and toast for Mary.
Through breakfast they discussed plans for the day, and while Adam explained how Lucy wanted to take them to see the cottage and the fields, Lucy’s courage began to falter; until Adam sensed her dilemma and winked at her in his usual cheeky manner.
The intimate gesture seemed to harden Lucy’s determination. ‘We’ll go out to the cottage,’ she declared. ‘Then we’ll visit the churchyard, and after that it’s on to see Doctor Lucas.’
Lucy and Adam finished their breakfast and left Ben and Mary to finish theirs. ‘We’ll see you in the foyer in half an hour,’ Lucy said. With that she took her leave, and Adam went with her up the staircase. When they reached Lucy’s room, he excused himself. ‘I’ll see you downstairs in half an hour then.’
With that he hurried away, thinking how he would have preferred to be going into the room with her. But maybe that was for another day, when he had persuaded her into being his wife.
Some short time later, the four of them climbed into Ben’s car; they drove away from the city of Liverpool and on, towards the outskirts and the open fields of Comberton. Lucy was apprehensive, but knew that she must not shirk from doing what she came here to do. Just once, that was all, and afterwards she would never visit the old places again.
Sitting in the back of the car with Adam beside her and her daughter and Ben in front, she felt strangely isolated, and so incredibly lonely, it was almost unbearable. Then Adam reached out and, tucking her hand into his, he shifted closer to her. His nearness, the touch of his hand and the way he looked at her, as if to say, ‘You’re not alone, we’re all here with you,’ gave Lucy a warm feeling.
In all her life, she had learned never to lean on anyone. But now here she was, leaning on this dear man. And somehow it felt so natural.
Following Lucy and Adam’s directions, Ben headed the car away from the main road. As they trailed the curve of the lanes, she was taken back to those far-off days when she worked in those same fields with Barney and his family.
‘In here, Ben.’ Excitement trembled her voice. ‘Pull in here.’ On the way over, Lucy had known every twist and turn, and now as they neared the cottage, her heart lurched as she recognised the meandering avenue of oak trees, and the orchard where little Jamie had so often played.
When the car was stationary, she climbed out; for a moment she stood by the gate, her hungry gaze taking it all in. Instinctively now, she went through the gate and following the very same path she had so often followed before, she climbed to the peak of the hill, her every step a trial.
Behind her, Mary prepared to get out of the car. ‘Not yet.’ Adam felt for Lucy and he knew she would need to be alone. ‘Let’s give your mother a few minutes, eh?’
Mary nodded, and so they stayed. They watched the small figure climbing and saw how her steps occasionally faltered.
At the top of the rise, Lucy stood tall and proud, her face turned towards the cottage and her gaze marking the spot for all time.
In her mind’s eye she saw herself outside the cottage, laughing and playing with Jamie, swinging on the branch of the tree, and gathering fruit from the orchard. She saw Barney and Vicky, sitting on the swing-seat that Barney had created out of old rope and fallen trees, and then there was the party; the barn was still there, its roof sagging and the door hanging lopsided on its hinges. She could even hear the music and the dancing.
It was all there, caught in time forever. And she was content to have been a part of it all.