Live the Dream Page 15

  It pained him to see her suffering like that. He wanted to do more. He wanted her to be the vibrant, shrewd woman she once had been. But that woman was long gone, and he could do nothing to help her. No one could.

  As always when he felt tired and lonely, his thoughts shifted to Amy. He recalled her warm, bright smile and those pretty eyes that twinkled even when she wasn't smiling. In his painting he had caught the very essence of that smile, and more, he had caught her spirit, strong and brave. 'Amy…' He relished the sound of her name. 'If only things had been different…if Sylvia and her lover had made a life together, you and I might have had a chance to get to know each other.' But things were not 'different', and they never could be.

  Through the open window, he viewed the galaxy of stars and was mesmerised by their sparkling beauty. 'I wonder if she's looking at these same stars?' It was a curiously comforting idea that they could be sharing this view. Luke thought of his cabin in Bowland Forest, nestling in the shadows of the fells. The sky there would be darkest black, not faded by the reflection of any streetlamps, and the stars would be piercingly bright in contrast. How he longed to share that night sky with Amy—the lovely, laughing, spirited girl, not an oil painting. Seeing her on Tuesdays at Tooley's Cafe, then escaping to the peace of the cabin, he saw her as inextricably part of his private world. If only she could make the journey to the cabin too. Somehow, this would be so right.

  With thoughts of Amy came a warm feeling, and then tiredness began to swamp his consciousness. After a time he closed his eyes and drifted into a deep sleep.

  He did not hear the door open, nor did he hear the soft tread of footsteps as they came across the carpet to his bed. When she leaned over him, he had no idea she was there. Even as she climbed into bed beside him, he did not feel her presence.

  In his sleep he began to dream, and the dream was of Amy. One minute she was in the painting and the next she was stepping out, into his arms, the soft touch of her hand on his body making him tremble.

  Beside him, Sylvia gently stroked her hand over him; touching the curve of his chest, savouring the feel of those strong vibrant muscles beneath her fingertips. Now she was reaching down, slipping her hand into the dip of his groin. When he seemed to respond, she pressed herself close to him.

  'Love me,' she whispered, and as he turned to draw her closer, she gave herself up to him.

  Greatly aroused he lay along her length, his member standing tall as he prepared to enter her. 'I knew you'd find me…' His voice softly caressing her, he slid his hands beneath her buttocks, tenderly arching her into him. 'You're lovely,' he kissed her neck, her ears, savouring the taste of her skin on his tongue, '…so lovely…" He wanted her with every fibre of his being.

  In that moment she began screaming, shocking him awake. 'LEAVE ME ALONE! GET OFF ME!' As he rolled away, she leaped on him, her fists pummelling his chest and face. 'GET AWAY FROM ME, YOU BASTARD!'

  There was no let-up, and he, reeling under the blows, could not seem to hold her off until, with one mighty effort he took hold of her arms and, swinging her away, rolled off the bed.

  'SYLVIA!' Somewhere between dream and consciousness he had imagined it was Amy in his arms. 'What are you doing here?'

  Suddenly she was like a child, desperately clinging to him. 'Don't punish me,' she sobbed. 'It wasn't me…I didn't do it.' Her fear was so real, he could almost taste it.

  'I would never punish you. Be still. Ssh!' As he reached out to comfort her she drew away like some frightened animal to cower against the pillow.

  'Where's Edna?' she said, her wide scared eyes scouring the room. 'Please…I want Edna.'

  Trembling inside, his senses scrambled, he swiftly assessed the situation. It was clear she had wandered in here, looking for comfort…maybe even looking for love. After all, it wasn't all that long ago they had been man and wife in every sense.

  Turning on the bedside lamp he grabbed his robe from the back of the chair and, slinging it on, tied it tight around the front. 'It's all right, sweetheart…' Holding out his hand he gave a sigh of relief when she took hold of it.

  Sliding off the bed, she asked meekly, 'Will you get Edna for me?'

  'In the morning,' he promised.I'll fetch Edna in the morning.' He lifted her gently into bed and covered her over. 'You'd best stay here tonight,' he said. 'I won't be far away.'

  'You won't leave me, will you?'

  'No, I won't leave you.'

  He stayed by her as promised, moving his armchair beside the bed, while she lay, quiet now, slipping gently into a calming sleep. 'It's all right,' he said as she twice opened her eyes. 'I'm here.'

  Soon she was sound asleep. 'Oh, dear God, Sylvia, what's happened to you…to us?' He looked on that beautiful face, and his heart went out to her. To his mind there was no point in apportioning blame; it had all gone far beyond that.

  He thought of Amy again, and his mouth twisted in a smile.

  Amy was his dream and Sylvia was his reality.

  He was still thinking of Amy when the soothing waves of sleep overwhelmed him.

  In the morning, while Sylvia was sleeping soundly, he got quickly dressed and summoned Edna on the telephone he'd had installed at her home.

  'You can't go on like this,' Edna chided. 'Just look at the state of you! You look terrible—dark rims under your eyes and a haggard look about you that tells the world you've not slept a full night in goodness knows how long.'

  'I'll be fine,' Luke protested. 'A bath and a good breakfast, and I'll be good as new.' Though having slept in the chair all night had not helped his poor bones, which ached in every direction.

  Edna threw aside his protests. 'How in God's name d'you think you can run a factory without a good night's sleep, tell me that?'

  'I do all right,' he answered. 'There's no need for you to worry on that score.'

  'Oh, aye! You might well "do all right", as you say, but for how long, eh? How long will it be afore you fall ill, or your brain won't function because it's half asleep? What then, eh?'

  'Stop nagging me, woman!' he groaned, but fondly. 'I'm fit as a fiddle, and my brain's as sharp as a tack. The factory will be fine and so will I.'

  'I've a suggestion to make,' she persisted. 'Let me move in.'

  Taken aback he wanted to know, 'And what would poor Harry think about that?'

  'He'd welcome it; says my snoring keeps him awake at night.'

  Luke chuckled. 'So, you want to come here and keep me awake, is that it? I'm grateful to you,' he said, 'but there's really no need.' It seemed too extreme a measure.

  Edna nodded. 'All right, if you're sure. But will you promise me…you'll ask me to stay if you're ever worried, or if she's disturbed your sleep too often?'

  'She hardly ever disturbs my sleep, as you know, Edna. Once Sylvia goes to her bed, she usually sleeps soundly enough.'

  'Not lately she hasn't.'

  'She's going through a bad patch right now,' Luke said. 'I'm sure she'll settle down.' In fact things seemed to be getting worse, but he didn't want to worry Edna unduly.

  'So, will you promise?'

  He gave her a kiss on the cheek. 'You're a bossy devil and no mistake,' he said. 'And, yes, I promise, if I find I can't manage, we'll talk about you staying over. Now, is it all right with you if I go and get my bath? I don't want to be late this morning. We've a big delivery to get out to a new customer. It's a huge order and could lead to more business, so I'd like to oversee it personally.'

  Edna was satisfied. 'You get yersel' ready,' she told him. 'Mrs Hammond's still sleeping soundly, so I'll start your breakfast. It'll be on the table when you come down.'

  'What would I do without you?' he asked, and she replied, 'I've no doubt you'd manage. Meanwhile, shift yerself or you'll be late.'

  As he went up the stairs he called out wryly, 'Sometimes I wonder who's the boss in this house, you or me!'

  'It's me,' she called back, 'and just you remember that!'

  Luke went into the bathroom, chuckling.
'Edna, you're a gem, what are you?'

  She didn't hear him. She was too busy throwing the bacon into the pan; followed by a handful of sliced tomatoes and a couple of mushrooms.

  Pretty soon the delicious aroma of bacon cooking filled the house. 'Yer may be short on sleep,' Edna chunnered to herself, 'but while I'm about, you can be sure of a good breakfast afore you leave this house. A man in your situation needs feeding up. Haunted at home, haunted at work…By, it's a wonder you're not stark-staring mad!'

  'I hate Monday mornings!' Roy always started the day shivering, whatever the weather. 'Jesus! It's bloody freezing in here!' Having taken off his jacket he soon put it back on again. 'It's colder in here than it is outside.'

  Jack looked at his mate, a small, shivering wreck. 'You could do with more fat on your bones,' he said. 'The sun's shining and it looks like another glorious day, and here's you shivering like a jelly. If you're that cold, run up and down for a minute or two,' he added with a grin.

  Roy wouldn't have it. 'The boiler can't be on,' he argued through chattering teeth.

  'Come here!' Like a mother-cat with a kitten, Jack got the little fella by the scruff of the neck and marched him to the wall. Pointing to the large, round meter attached to an army of pipes, he said, 'There y'are. Up and working and warming the place as we speak. Leave your coat on, give it half an hour, and you'll be warm as toast.'

  Jack was right. Half an hour later the large open area was heated to the right temperature. The men were at work and Roy had taken off his coat and was looking much more comfortable.

  From his vantage- point at the top of the stairs, Jack oversaw the workforce. To his left, the men were waiting by the lorries and to his right, the rows of machine-hands, producing the many different brushes to be quickly stacked, were ready for inspection.

  Deciding to take another look at the production line, he went down the stairs and across the loading bay, to where Amy's father, Dave, along with two other drivers were waiting for the word.

  'Ready when you are, Jack.' That was Dave. 'We're all back from the station run, and now we're waiting on the brush delivery. The wagons are swept out and clean. All we need are the loads on, then we'll be away.'

  'You did well getting the distribution orders out on time,' Jack acknowledged. 'I know Mr Hammond appreciates you all turning in extra early to get it done.'

  'So long as the appreciation shows up in us wage packets, that's all right,' Bert, Dave's friend, who was a loader, laughed.

  'So, how long d'you think it might be afore we can be away with this new brush order?' Dave asked.

  'Not too long,'Jack promised. 'Mr Hammond will be here shortly. As soon as he approves the quality, we'll have them packed and loaded.'

  Since meeting Amy and realising Dave was her father, Jack had been amazed at how alike they were; not in looks but in mannerism—both homely creatures with no pretence about them, and bright, ready smiles. He didn't want to let Dave know that he had met his daughter. That was up to Amy, but only if and when she wanted to.

  At the brush production line, the men were eager too.

  'He can examine 'em all he likes,' an old work-hand told Jack, 'but he'll not find a single misshapen base or one loose bristle. Matter o' fact, I'll go so far as to say, me and the men have taken more care with this little lot than we've ever taken…and that's not to say we've not allus been vigilant in turning out the best brushes in Lancashire.'

  'I already know that, Will,' Jack assured him, 'and so, I'm sure, does Mr Hammond. But you know how important this contract is—a new outlet, at top prices, and the promise of even more business to follow.'

  'Aye, we know that, Jack, and we'll not let him down, 'cos if we do, it'll be like letting ourselves down.'

  'You're right!' Jack agreed, 'especially as Mr Hammond is pulling out all the stops—new machinery, new wagons and even a new boiler system. He intends taking us up and up. No matter how good we've already proven our merchandise to be, we're on trial with every new customer. One shoddy piece of merchandise and it's back to square one.'

  One of the newly started young men stepped forward. 'He'll not find any shoddy workmanship here.' Unlike the other men, he did not appreciate the fact that Jack had come straight to Hammonds when not much more than a bairn. From the start, he had been a quick learner and dedicated to his work. He knew the business inside out, and was fast becoming Luke Hammond's right-hand man.

  All this envious young upstart could see was that Jack was not much older than himself, yet he wore the foreman's brown overall. 'Like Will 'ere says, these brushes must be the best in the whole of Lancashire. Tek a look and see for yourself.'

  And because he knew Luke Hammond would do the very same, Jack did exactly that.

  A few moments later he told the men he was well satisfied. 'But it's not me who needs to be satisfied,' he reminded them, 'it's the big man, and I'm sure he will be.' That said, he thanked them and set off towards the office.

  'Cocky bugger!' The young man's envy was written all over his face. 'It's not right, somebody in his twenties telling you men what to do '

  He would have gone on, but was interrupted. 'You don't know what yer talking about, son!' A big ruddy-faced man spoke for all of them. Jack deserves the foreman's overall; he's earned it. What's more, he deserves a bit more respect from the likes of you. He knows more about these machines and this business than you'll ever know! We might be older and wiser than him in many ways, but he's been here longer than many of us and Mr Hammond knows his value.'

  The other men nodded in full agreement, but it was young Roy who spoke for them, 'Aye, and it wouldn't surprise any of us, if Jack weren't running things round here one day.'

  Unaware of these exchanges, Jack collected the paperwork from his office. Coming back down the stairs, he saw the supervisor enter through the main doors. He was a thin, sour-faced man who, because of his habitual lateness and lack of enthusiasm, was already under warning from Luke Hammond. He gave Jack the sign that Mr Hammond had turned into the outer gates.

  Intending to have a word with him about not being around when he'd searched for him earlier, Jack merely acknowledged him for now and made his way to the main doors, where Luke was already in sight.

  'Morning, Mr Hammond.'

  'Morning, Jack. The men briefed, are they?'

  'They are, sir. They're well aware of how important this new order is and, if you don't mind me saying so, I think you'll find they've done you proud.'

  Luke smiled. 'It sounds as though you've already inspected the order.'

  'I have, and I think it's a fine batch of brushes.'

  Luke nodded appreciatively. 'Good! Right, let's have a look, shall we?'

  With Jack following, he walked along the line of brush machines, talking to each of the twelve operators as he went.

  His first stop was the broom-heads, where he dipped at random into the stacks, to check both quality and bristle quantity. Next the scrubbing brushes and miscellaneous, then the small hand brushes, and finally the large yard broom-heads.

  With each one he turned the brush over, checking for bristle quality, possible missed holes, and that the bristle bunches were driven deep into the holes. When that was done he turned the broom-head sideways to check the straightness of the cut, and that none was misshapen.

  Finally he thanked the work hands and returned to the office with Jack, where he told Jack that he needed a word with the supervisor.

  'I'm not happy with him,' Luke said. 'He's turned out to be shifty and lazy, and he's never on time. The men see it all and it isn't good. He's already had too many chances and doesn't seem to take a blind bit of notice.'

  In a matter of minutes, Jack tracked down the thin, sour- faced individual.

  Luke outlined the man's lack of enthusiasm for his work, and his inability to take instruction, either from Luke or Jack. 'The men are aware of what's going on,' Luke continued, 'and it's not acceptable. You'll be paid a week's wages and leave straight away. There's no rea
son for you to serve out your notice, especially not when you haven't the slightest interest in what you're doing.'

  The man swore and cursed and made many a threat, and even as Jack escorted him to the main doors, he was struggling, making it necessary for Jack to manhandle him roughly out of the building.

  'You'd best keep an eye out for that one,' Luke told Jack. 'He can be a nasty piece of work.'

  He also asked Jack to search out a new supervisor.

  'I think we should look in the ranks of men we've already got,' Jack suggested and, trusting him to make the best choice, Luke told him to use his own judgement.

  After Luke had gone, Jack had a brief idea that he might train Roy as supervisor, but his better instinct told him that Roy was not yet ready, and that one of the older, more experienced men would serve the firm better.

  Later, during tea-break, he told Roy how he had been half tempted to train him up.

  Roy replied exactly as Jack might have expected. 'I'm not ready. And besides, like you say, it wouldn't go down well with the other men.'

  'That was my thinking,' Jack admitted. His first concern was always the company, and both men knew that. 'Your time will come, though,' he promised Roy, and Roy's confidence swelled a mile.

  'I'll wait until you get your own firm,' he told Jack with a wink. 'I've a feeling it won't be too long afore we see you as yer own boss.'

  'That's a long way down the road yet,' Jack answered. Though, in his heart it was all he wanted: to be his own boss, with his own business, and—the idea shot fully formed into his head—the lovely Amy to come home to every night.

  That was his dream and he would settle for nothing else.

  At six p.m. a whistle signalled the end of another working day. Roy lingered to wait for Jack, and they walked part-way home together.

  'I'm seeing Daisy tomorrow,' Roy revealed with a confident little grin. 'I think she really likes me.'

  'If that's true, try not to mess it up this time,' was Jack's friendly advice. 'She's a decent lass.'