Live the Dream Read online

  'That's what I say an' all, lass.' Cutting off a small square of butter, Marie carefully wrapped it before placing it on the counter. 'There you are, Alice.' Licking her pencil she totted up the amount on a notepad. 'That'll be one and ninepence, please.'

  'Hmm!'

  Alice quickly paid and, after stuffing the groceries into her bag, she made for the door with a parting piece of advice.'You should be very careful who you make friends with.' She cast a wary glance towards the door. 'If you ask me, people like her need to be watched. There's summat very fishy about that woman,' she warned. 'I've said it now, and I'll say it again, anybody who moves house late at night, with a child in tow and hardly any belongings, has got summat to hide.'

  Having said her piece, she marched out.

  As she left, little Bob Ainsworth stumbled in. 'Bloody hell!' he chuckled. The way she's gone down that street, it's like her knickers are on fire.' A man in his seventies, he seemed to shrink with every passing day.

  Marie and Amy both laughed. 'Morning, Bob.' Marie was already reaching under the counter. 'After your baccy, is it?'

  'Aye…unless you've summat more appetising to offer a poor, lonely old fella?'

  'What did you have in mind then?' As if she didn't know. In varying forms, Marie had gone through this conversation with him every day since the shop opened.

  He licked his lips. 'Well now, being as you asked, you wouldn't have a nice young lady under that counter, would you? Plump and merry, with a mind to keeping an old man happy.'

  'Sorry, Bob, we're out of nice young ladies today…present company excepted, of course.' In a more serious voice she warned, 'You want to be careful. You know what happens to older men who take young ladies into their homes.'

  Embarrassed, he made light of her remark. 'Say what you like, there's only one thing that could happen, and that's me and her having a good time.'

  Marie persisted, 'I'm telling you, Bob, I've known it happen many a time. An old man takes a young woman into his home and, before you know it, she's got her feet under the table and he's out on the street, homeless and penniless.'

  The widower gave a nervous grin. 'D'you think I'm gullible enough to let that happen?'

  'You're on your own, Bob, and from what you keep telling me, you'd welcome some young woman with open arms,' Marie said kindly. 'But think about it. Any young lady would want a man her own age. Unless o' course she's waiting for some gullible, randy old fool to come along; some poor bloke she can flutter her eyelashes at, before she robs him blind and walks away with everything he's got.'

  Bob took a minute to dwell on her words, and when he spoke, it was in a panic-stricken voice. 'You heard me wrong, lass. I never said…' He shook his head so hard, his eyes swivelled in their sockets. 'I don't know what you thought I meant, but you got it all wrong. All I meant to say was, I just thought it would be nice to have a bit of company, that's all.'

  To save his dignity, Marie went along with his bluff. 'Oh, Bob, I am sorry,' she said penitently. 'You're right. I must have misheard.'

  'Aye, you bloody well did, an' all.' Bristling with indignation he told her, 'Just give me my baccy and I'll be off. And mind what you say in future…I'm a respectable pillar of society and allus have been.'

  A moment later, clutching his precious wad of baccy, he tumbled out of the shop, leaving Marie unusually quiet and Amy softly laughing, though when she caught sight of Marie deep in thought, she wondered if her mother was already regretting her harsh words to the old man.

  Amy asked her now, 'Why did you do that?'

  'Do what?' Marie seemed agitated. 'I didn't "do" anything.'

  'Aw! Come off it, Mam,' Amy chided. 'You put the fear of God in him.'

  'I'm glad I did!' Marie sharply rebuked her. 'Anyway, it serves him right.'

  Amy couldn't agree. 'You know Bob,' Amy replied. 'He's a bit of a dreamer. If a woman threw herself at him, he'd run a mile.'

  'You could be right,' Marie admitted. 'Happen I were a bit hard on him.' Her voice dropped to a softer tone, 'Aw, look, lass. It was for his own good. Bob is a smashing bloke who's worked hard all his life. He had fifty happy years of marriage with a good woman, and for most men that would be sufficient. He must be seventy-five if he's a day, and here he is, talking about some young thing who would happily rob him of his life savings and even the roof over his head.'

  'But you don't know that.' Amy had never seen her mother so agitated. 'And if you don't mind me saying, Mam, it's not like you to interfere in somebody else's life.'

  Marie fell silent for a time before confessing in a quiet voice. 'I do know what I'm talking about, lass,' she revealed quietly. 'I've never spoken of it before but two years after we lost your grandma…my mother…" she paused a moment, '…your grandad was terrible lonely. He was still a fair- looking fella, with a decent enough house…all paid for, and a few shilling in the bank. After a while he did what old Bob's in danger of doing. When some young woman cocked her hat at him, he was flattered. Common sense flew out the window and eventually he took her into his house.'

  Amy was astonished. 'What happened?'

  'Your grandad doted on her, but it was never enough. She led him a right merry dance, I can tell you! Your father and me tried hard to persuade him to be rid of her, before she ruined him altogether. But would he listen…no! Until one night, when she thought he was asleep, he caught her going through his wallet.

  'He realised what a fool he'd been and he threw her on the streets where she'd come from. But not before she'd managed to spend every penny he'd put by, and sold a multitude of precious things which he'd got hidden away in the cupboards.'

  She shook her head sadly. 'He never saw them, or her again.'

  Amy was horrified. 'Why did you never tell me?'

  Marie explained, 'You were only a few month old at the time, and when you were older there was no point raking it all up. Me and your father thought it best to leave it all in the past where it belongs. Besides, it's not summat you shout from the rooftops, is it? I for one didn't want folks to know what a silly old fool your grandad had been.'

  She gave a little chuckle. 'God only knows what your grandma said to him when he got up there.' She rolled her eyes to Heaven.

  Amy began to understand. 'Oh, Mam, I wish I'd known my grandparents.'

  'You do, lass,' Marie reminded her. 'You've got pictures of them and I've told you as much as I know, so you know them almost as well as I did.' She tutted loudly. 'And now you know the grubby little secret I've been keeping all these years.'

  'And it'll stay a "secret",' Amy promised.

  'And I'm sorry if I frightened old Bob.' Marie jerked a thumb towards the door. 'But he's treading on dangerous ground if he goes looking for some young flighty thing. I had to give him a little warning.'

  'You did right, Mam.' In view of what she'd just been told, Amy agreed. 'I would love to see him find a good woman…we both would. But what you said might just make him think twice before he does anything foolish.'

  The day quickly passed, and customers came and went, and it was just an hour to closing before Marie and Amy found time to catch their breath.

  Then Amy began replenishing the shelves, while Marie went into the back room and made them each a cup of tea. 'I've brought us a slice of cake,' she told Amy, emerging with a tray and a smile.

  'Just what the doctor ordered.'

  Pulling up a stool, Amy sat beside her mother at the counter. 'When we've had this, you can start the cashing up, while I finish filling up the shelves.'

  'That's a good idea,' Marie agreed. 'I doubt if we'll get any more customers now. We can't shut up shop just in case, but we can take a minute or two to enjoy a well-deserved break.'

  They had no sooner started tucking into the refreshments than the door opened and in came a woman with a child at her side.

  At once, because of her appearance, both Amy and her mother thought this might be the new neighbour Alice had complained about. Seemingly in her mid-thirties, she looked a
weary soul, and if, as Alice claimed, the clothes on their backs were all they had, then both woman and child were in a sorry state.

  While Marie returned the tray to the kitchen, complete with half-eaten cake, Amy addressed the child, a small, scraggy thing with wild fair hair and an angelic-looking face.

  'Hello. What's your name then?'

  Reaching down to chuck the child under the chin, she was disappointed when he drew away and hid behind his mammy's skirt.

  'His name's Johnny.' Putting an arm round his tiny shoulders, the woman explained, 'He'll not talk to you. He never talks to anybody but me.'

  Amy smiled at the toddler. 'He's a fine-looking boy.' Though she thought he could do with fattening up a bit. 'How old is he?'

  'He'll be three come July. I won't have to think about putting him in school for a bit yet.'

  'We've a good school round here,' Amy informed her. 'According to what the customers tell me, their children seem to be doing all right.'

  'I'm not interested in what other folks might say,' the woman informed Amy.

  Fearing she might have overstepped the mark, Amy apologised. 'I'm sorry. I was just trying to help.'

  'Well, there's no need, thank you. Now, what can I get for that?' She slapped a handful of coins on the counter.

  Amy glanced at the coins. 'What is it you want exactly?'

  Pushing the coins towards Amy, the woman asked, 'Is there enough for bread, butter, and a half-pint o' milk?'

  Amy collected up the coins. 'You've more than enough,' she said, sliding two halfpennies back to her.

  'Are you sure? I don't want charity!' the customer declared proudly.

  'It isn't charity.' Giving the halfpennies another push towards the woman, Amy added kindly, 'This is your change. There really is enough money for what you want.'

  There was a curious moment when the woman and Amy looked at each other, and a kind of deep-seated understanding passed between them.

  'Thank you.' The woman nodded gratefully.

  It took only a minute for Amy to gather the few items and, as the woman dropped them into her bag, Amy noticed the boy's longing glance at the sweet jars. Wary of being too familiar with the child, she asked the woman, 'Is it all right if I give Johnny a sweetie?'

  'And how much will that cost me?'

  'No, please…let it be a small gift from me to him. It's nothing much.'

  The woman looked at the boy and the boy smiled up at her. 'Sweetie,' he whispered shyly, his eyes lit up, and her heart melted.

  'All right, son. But we'd best not make a habit of it,' she added to Amy.

  Taking a sweet from the jar, Amy held it down to the boy. There you are, Johnny.'

  But before the boy could take the sweet, Marie returned and the woman seemed to panic. 'It's time we were off!' Taking Johnny by the hand, she propelled him across the shop.

  'No, Mammy,' the boy began to cry, 'the lady's got my sweetie.' ·

  'Please…I have it here.' Running across the shop, Amy blocked their way, but not in a threatening manner. 'It's just a sweet,' she pleaded. 'Please?'

  There was that long, intimate moment again, when the older woman and the young one seemed to understand each other and when the woman spoke now, it was with gratitude. 'Thank you. But you'd best give it to me. You're a stranger. He'll not come anywhere near strangers.'

  When the boy backed away, once more hiding behind his mammy's skirt, Amy stooped down, keeping her distance but all the while smiling at his peeping face. 'This is for you. Take it, Johnny.' Holding out the sweet, she coaxed, 'It's liquorice, all soft and chewy, but if you don't like this one, we can choose another. What do you say?'

  Slowly, hesitantly, the boy came forward and took the sweet from her, and to everyone's amazement, he reached up, kissed Amy on the face and ran back to his mammy, with the sweet clutched tightly in his hand.

  'Well, I never!' The woman couldn't believe it. 'That's the first time he's ever done a thing like that. It seems he's took a liking to you.' Now, as she smiled, the years and weariness fell from her face and she looked ten years younger. 'What's your name?'

  'Amy.'

  'Well, Amy, it would seem you have a way with children. Do you have any of your own?'

  Amy shook her head, 'No. I'm not married.'

  'Got a regular fella, have you?'

  Amy rolled her eyes in frustration. 'Not so's you'd notice.'

  She supposed the Tuesday man at Tooley's Cafe didn't count.She had come to look forward to seeing him there despite the frustration of having, even yet, not discovered even his name. In a way that made it easier—he could be anyone—and she would find herself thinking about him and wondering.

  'Hmm! All I can say is, the men round these parts must be a wagonload o' fools.'

  Amy laughed. 'Happen they're just not interested in me.'

  'Oh, and why would that be?'

  'Because I'm not the prettiest girl around.' Amy had never fooled herself on that score.

  'I don't know who told you that, because you look all right to me. But it means nothing anyway,' the woman assured her. 'Prettiness is on the outside, and anyway, after a time it begins to fade.' She wagged a finger. 'It's what's on the inside that counts. A man might cast his eyes over a prettygirl, and for a time he might have his head turned, but when he comes to settling down and wanting to raise a family, he looks for a bit more than prettiness. He looks for a kind heart and common sense—somebody as can cook and mend, and keep him content…if you know what I mean?' A brief uplift of the eyebrows spoke volumes.

  Turning to Marie, she asked in a softer voice, 'Are you the mother?'

  Marie took a pace forward. 'That's right, and I'm proud of it.' She wasn't altogether sure what to make of their new neighbour.

  'You've a good lass here.'

  'I know that, but thank you anyway.'

  'She's wasted in this shop.'

  'I know that as well, and though she's everything you said, she is also stubborn and determined. When she makes up her mind there's no reasoning with her.'

  The woman laughed out loud. 'A girl after my own heart. I dare say you'll miss her when some man comes and snatches her away, and they will. You mark my words. There aren't many decent young women left, but this one seems a good 'un.' In harsher voice she finished, 'There are some bad buggers out there, I can tell you!'

  Amy thought she sounded as though she'd met a few. 'I'm sure there are,' she agreed, 'but you'll not find them round these parts.' 'Is that so?' Giving them each a wary glance the newcomer declared firmly, I think I've said enough.'

  Taking Johnny by the hand she opened the door and was going through it when she felt a tug. Looking down, she saw how the boy was turning back to smile at Amy.

  'Bye, Johnny.' She gave him an affectionate, mischievous wink.

  Returning Amy's smile, the woman nodded appreciatively. 'Thank you.'

  When they were gone, Marie stepped forward. 'The lad seemed to have taken a shine to you,' she said. 'He's such a quiet, nervous little thing…hardly said a word. Is he backward, do you think?'

  Amy shook her head. 'No.' She had thought that herself at first but now she knew different. 'I just think he's shy and he doesn't know how to deal with people around him.'

  Marie tutted.'She's a strange one, though.'

  Amy had to disagree. 'I think she's just frightened.'

  'Frightened of what?'

  'I don't know.' Amy couldn't quite put her finger on it. 'Did Alice mention anything about a man being with them when they arrived?'

  'No. There was no mention of any man.'

  'So where is he then? I mean, there must be a man somewhere…a husband. The boy must have a father. So, why isn't he with them?'

  'Happen she's a widow. Or they're split up, lass. We know it happens.'

  Amy was made to think of Daisy's parents, and she couldn't help but wonder whether it might be better for a warring couple like that to go their separate ways.

  'It does seem an odd thing, tho
ugh—woman and child, moving into a house with apparently nothing to call their own, and no man in sight. So, where have they come from? Why haven't they got anything of any value?' A thought occurred to her. 'Mam?'

  'Yes?'

  'Do you think they're on the run?'

  Marie chuckled. 'By! What an imagination you've got. Why in God's name should they be "on the run"?'

  'I don't know, but I reckon there's something wrong.' For both their sakes, Amy hoped they weren't in any kind of trouble.

  Marie ended the conversation. 'Didn't you say Daisy was coming round?'

  'Oh, yes!' Her mind taken up with the woman and boy, Amy had almost forgotten. 'She promised to help sew up my new curtains.'

  'And I've the dinner to get on. Your father's home tonight and he'll be dying of starvation. So now then, my girl, put our new neighbours out of your mind, 'cos we've work to do.' Marie observed the half-empty shelves. 'We'd best get the shelves restocked and call it a day.'

  And that was what they did; although, as much as she tried hard to forget them, Amy's thoughts kept coming back to the woman and child.

  There was something about them that troubled her.

  May was such a beautiful time of year, Luke thought as he drove out to his cabin. The leaves on the trees were bright green and tender, and the blackbirds were singing extra loudly. The glorious sunshine softened the rugged landscape of the fells to the north of Blackburn so that the countryside seemed to be welcoming him with a broad smile.

  Above the track to the cabin the canopy of trees was not yet thick enough to exclude the sun, and its beams slanted like spotlights across the track. A large rabbit ran ahead of the car, then bounded off into the undergrowth with a flash of white scut. Soft-furred baby rabbits grazed the shorter grass beside the track with intense concentration, ignoring Luke's car.

  The winter mustiness of the cabin had almost vanished with the late spring sun, and when Luke arrived he immediately threw all the windows wide to take advantage of the warm fresh air and today's exceptional light. This was a day for painting, and he'd come to the cabin especially early, forgoing the attractions of Tooley's Cafe. He aimed to finish Amy's portrait before he returned to Blackburn, having progressed only slowly over winter, with the poor light.