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‘I’d best get cleaned up, and take Mary to approve my new tractor.’ Ben smiled at the prospect. ‘After that, we’ve got the whole day to please ourselves what we do.’
Adam saw the gleam in Ben’s eye and his heart warmed. ‘You really love her, don’t you?’
Ben’s answer was instant and sincere. ‘Like I’ve never loved anyone in my life,’ he said. ‘I can’t recall what my life was like before she came along, and now I can’t imagine a day without her.’
Suddenly, Mary was making her way towards them. Upstairs, hanging out of the window with her cloth, Elsie was shouting down to her, ‘What were you two laughing about, eh?’
‘It’s Mum. You know what she’s like.’ Mary was still chuckling. ‘She was saying how she’d best teach you your place, because you’re getting too big for your boots.’
‘Huh! It’s the other way round, more like!’
When, a moment later, Elsie saw the doctor getting out of his car, she dropped her cloth into the bucket, ran to the landing and called down to Lucy, who quickly made her way upstairs, brushed her hair and sat nervously on the edge of the bed, waiting to greet him.
Though deep down she knew it was unfair, Lucy harboured a certain distrust of doctors. It had started when Barney fell ill and they could do nothing to help him. To Lucy’s mind, doctors were all the same – authoritative and full of good advice, but as yet they had not managed to instil any degree of confidence in her. There was one exception and that was Dr Raymond Lucas, from her old home outside Liverpool. He had been a true and trusted friend, and even now Lucy valued his letters and friendship.
Interrupting her thoughts, the knock sounded on the door for the second time. ‘Come in.’ Like a rebellious child, Lucy remained seated.
The door inched open and a smiling face peeped in at her; with his cheeky grin and that ridiculous cap of thick brown hair, the doctor looked far younger than his early thirties. ‘Am I all right to come in?’ he asked gingerly. ‘Or am I likely to get my head chopped off at dawn?’ He knew Lucy well by now, and was aware that his visits were unpopular.
Lucy laughed and the atmosphere eased. ‘I’m not that much of an ogre, am I?’ she asked, shame-facedly.
‘There are those who might argue the point.’ Straightening his shoulders, he pushed open the door and sauntered in.
Lucy asked him pointedly, ‘You’re not about to put me through the grinder, are you?’
He took a deep breath. ‘I’ll do whatever’s necessary to satisfy myself that you haven’t been overdoing it.’ He peeked at her with suspicion. ‘And have you?’
‘What?’
‘Been overdoing it?’
‘I don’t think so.’ Lucy hoped he would leave before coming into contact with Elsie, who was certain to have her say on the matter.
‘Mmm.’ Slowly nodding his head, he made that peculiar sound that some doctors make when they’re not quite sure what to say. ‘Mmm … ah.’
‘You don’t believe me, do you?’
‘I don’t know what to think.’ He ventured forward. ‘And if I don’t believe you, it’s no one’s fault but your own.’
‘What do you mean by that?’
‘I mean, I need you to be honest, but sometimes you tell me one thing and do another. How am I supposed to know if you’re following my instructions when you won’t tell me the truth?’
‘Huh!’ Lucy couldn’t help but like him. ‘So now I’m a liar, am I?’
Fearing he might have got on the wrong side of her, he suggested meekly, ‘I’m sorry, Lucy, that is not what I meant at all. Perhaps we should forget the conversation so far and start again, what do you think?’
Lucy smiled her sweetest. ‘I think that’s an excellent idea.’
With a twinkle in his eye, he made the smallest bow and to Lucy’s amusement, greeted her with a bright, ‘Good morning, Mrs Davidson.’
‘Good morning, Doctor Nolan.’ Bright as a button, Lucy’s quick smile betrayed her enjoyment. ‘How very nice to see you,’ she lied beautifully.
Placing the big black bag on the bedside table, Dr Nolan opened it and took out his stethoscope. ‘And how are you today?’
‘I’m fine, thank you, Doctor.’ Unbuttoning the top of her blouse, Lucy prepared herself for the shock of the cold stethoscope against her skin.
‘Have you anything to report?’ he asked gently.
‘No, nothing.’ Sensing the game was over she replied in serious tone, ‘Everything is just the same as it was the last time you were here.’ She was determined not to reveal how her arm still hurt like the devil after trying to shift that heavy cleaner out of the cupboard, for which Elsie had rightfully given her a scolding.
‘So, no aches or pains then?’ He proceeded to examine her, discreetly ignoring Lucy’s visible shudder as the cold receptacle pressed against the flat of her chest.
Lucy shook her head. ‘No more than usual,’ she answered. ‘There are times when my joints feel as though they’ve locked together, and other times when I feel I can carry the world.’
‘No change there then?’ he said, concentrating now on the job in hand of checking her blood pressure.
‘Not really, no.’ She laughed out loud. ‘I was flattered this morning when Elsie accused me of being ambitious enough to take down curtains, and clean all the windows.’ She rolled her eyes to the ceiling. ‘Those days are long gone, more’s the pity.’
Lucy remembered the time when she could throw a pitchfork of hay on top of a wagon, or carry an injured lamb on her shoulders, but that was in another life. If she could bring it all back, she would. But it was gone, all but in her sorry heart.
A few moments later, after a thorough examination, the doctor put away his instruments and closed the bag. ‘It seems you’re no better and no worse, so you must be following my instructions after all.’
Lucy smiled triumphantly. ‘Isn’t that what I told you, Doctor?’
‘So it is,’ he replied. ‘So it is – but you need to remember you’re not the young woman you once were and your joints aren’t quite so flexible. I’m not saying you can’t do certain things – of course you can – but you must take care not to aggravate your condition. And that includes getting all hot and bothered about things.’
‘I won’t.’
‘Good.’ He wrote out a prescription. ‘Your blood pressure is slightly up. Take one of these each morning, and an hour’s rest in the afternoon. Right?’
‘Whatever you say. You’re the doctor.’
‘I’ll call again in a few days to check your blood pressure, just to be sure.’
Glad that the examination was over, Lucy relaxed. ‘Are you ready for tea and biscuits?’
‘Need you ask?’ It had become a ritual; a bit of a banter, then the examination, before tea and biscuits. He had come to look forward to it. ‘That’s the main reason I come to visit,’ the young man teased. He picked up his black bag. ‘A few quiet moments in that delightful kitchen of yours sets me up for the day.’
Inching herself off the bed, Lucy slipped her shoes on. ‘You haven’t forgotten how I like mine, have you?’
He shook his head. ‘Strong, with a little milk and two sugars.’
‘That’s it.’ She waved him away with a gesture. ‘Off you go then. You make your way down, and I’ll follow on.’
By the time Lucy arrived in the kitchen, the doctor was pouring out two cups of tea and had got out a plate of Elsie’s home-baked shortbread. ‘I can’t stay long,’ he told Lucy. ‘I must check on Maggie Craig; she’s not too far away from giving birth.’
Lucy tut-tutted. ‘That’s her eighth in as many years. If you ask me, it’s not Maggie as wants checking on, it’s her old man. Quickest way to help Maggie and cut your work down into the bargain, is to chop it off for him. That’ll give everyone a rest, won’t it?’
The doctor laughed. ‘It’s a bit drastic, don’t you think?’
Lucy shrugged. ‘He’s a selfish bugger, though. If it was him having the babies, he wouldn’t be so quick to make them.’
She thought of her dead son, little Jamie, drowned these past twenty years or more, and her heart was sore. ‘Mind you,’ she went on in a softer voice, ‘there is nothing more magical than holding a child in your arms.’
The doctor looked up to see the sadness in her eyes; he had seen it before and had been curious. Not for the first time, he sensed there was something in Lucy’s past that she was unable to let go. He might have asked, but the young man’s instinct told him Lucy would not thank him for it. So he waited until the sadness had passed, and she was smiling at him, as though everything was all right in her world.
‘I expect you have a busy day ahead of you, Doctor?’
‘I have, yes.’ Finishing his tea, he munched the last of his biscuit, and when he thought Lucy wasn’t looking, he tucked one into his jacket pocket. ‘I really must get on now,’ he excused himself. ‘Remember what I said, won’t you?’
Lucy nodded. ‘I will, yes. Thank you, Doctor, and mind you don’t crush that biscuit to crumbs in your pocket. Here.’ Taking a napkin from the drawer she gave it to him with a knowing little smile. ‘Best wrap it up in that, eh?’
Looking like a little boy caught with his hand in the sweetie jar, Dr Nolan did as he was told, and went sheepishly on his way.
Through the window Lucy watched him leave and when he was gone her gaze fell on Mary, who was walking with Ben towards the house.
‘We’re away now, Mother.’ Mary arrived to kiss Lucy cheerio. ‘Ben’s just washing the oil from his hands, then we’re off to organise the tractor.’
Lucy laughed. ‘And what do you know about tractors?’
Mary made a face. ‘Nothing,’ she admitted. ‘I know about cutting grass, about fertilising the soil, growing flowers and vegetables, plants from seed and collecting eggs from the chickens to sell at market, but that’s as far as my knowledge stretches.’ She gave her mother a curious glance. ‘What are you smiling at?’
Lucy’s memories had never jaded. She could remember Overhill Farm in the little Wirral village of Comberton by Weir as if it was yesterday, with Barney and his sons ploughing and seeding, and harvest-time, when the world was aglow with sunshine and the fields yielded their bounty. Somehow, without even knowing it, she had come to learn quite a bit about tractors and the way they worked. ‘I was just thinking,’ she said vaguely.
‘From the look on your face, they must be pleasant thoughts.’ Mary had often seen that look on her mother’s face, a look of yesteryear, sometimes sad, sometimes warm with joy, and not once had she ever felt a part of it. ‘What were you thinking about?’
‘Oh, things that happened before you were born.’
‘What things?’
Lucy was wary now. Even though Mary knew something about the secrets of the past, Lucy found it hard to discuss every little detail. ‘I was just remembering how much I seem to have learned about tractors, that’s all.’
Mary was intrigued. ‘You loved helping Daddy on the farm, didn’t you?’ How she wished she had been a part of it all. But not the heartache, not that.
Lucy didn’t get a chance to answer because now Ben was in the room, unrolling his sleeves and preparing to leave. ‘If you’re ready, we’d best be off now,’ he told Mary, and to Lucy he suggested, ‘Would you like to come with us?’
Lucy was tempted. ‘That’s very kind,’ she said, ‘but you don’t want me limping along, acting the wallflower. Besides, I’ve got things to do. You two get off and enjoy yourselves. You can tell me all about it when you get back.’
All too soon the two of them were climbing into Ben’s car, laughing and talking, and Lucy was thrilled to see them so happy and content. ‘See that, Barney?’ she murmured aloud. ‘That was you and me, in the short time we had together.’
Ravaged by emotions and memories she found difficult to cope with, Lucy went back to her room, slipped out of her shoes and lay down on the bed. Her gaze fixed on the ceiling, eyes closed, bittersweet tears trickled down her face. ‘I want you back,’ she whispered. ‘Oh Barney, even now, after twenty years, I still miss you so much. I want you back – and I know it will never happen.’
For a time her heart was unbearably heavy. When she was quiet at last, she went to the bathroom and washed her face. Afterwards, feeling fresher and more able to face another day, she went downstairs, where Elsie was covering a large pie with pastry. ‘Steak and kidney pie and mash for dinner tonight,’ she advised Lucy. ‘I’ll cover it with greaseproof paper and set it on the shelf in the pantry. Oh, and there’s apple crumble for afterwards. Won’t take a second for Mary to heat up the spuds with a knob of butter, and to boil up some custard.’
Lucy was astonished. ‘Good grief!’ She stared at the pie and then at Elsie. ‘You’ve got your skates on this morning, haven’t you?’ She glanced about the kitchen, which by now was spick and span. ‘Are you in a hurry or what?’
For a minute it seemed as though Elsie had not heard Lucy’s question, because she continued cutting the edge of the pastry to a pattern, then carried the pie to the pantry. Now she was at the sink, slapping her hands together to rid them of the flour before washing them under the tap.
Lucy spoke again. ‘Elsie! Did you hear what I said?’
‘I did, yes, and there’s no need to shout.’
‘Well then, have the manners to answer.’
The woman turned. ‘All right – then yes, I am in a hurry.’
‘Why?’
‘Things to do.’ Elsie never used many words when a few would do.
‘What things?’
Elsie carried on wiping the table. After replacing the tablecloth she looked Lucy in the eye. ‘Very well, if you must know, I’m taking Charlie to have his eyes tested.’
Lucy was open-mouthed. ‘Can’t he take himself?’
‘No.’
‘Why not? He’s a grown man with a tongue in his head, isn’t he?’
‘That’s the trouble.’
‘What?’
‘The tongue in his head. Gift o’ the gab – that’s his problem! If I’m not there to explain what’s been going on, he’ll convince the optician that he’s fine. Then there’ll be no spectacles and he’ll carry on the same as before.’
‘And what’s wrong with that? Charlie is a fine blacksmith. Surely he doesn’t need spectacles for shoeing horses?’
‘Hmh! Shows how much you know.’ Hands on hips, Elsie seemed ready for another fight. ‘Last week, Ted Willis brought his old mare into the yard for re-shoeing and Charlie put the shoe on upside down; the poor animal went away limping worse than when Ted fetched her in. If Ted hadn’t brought her back, she’d have gone lame for sure.’
Lucy thought the woman was being a bit harsh. ‘Charlie doesn’t often make a mistake like that. Does it really mean he wants marching off to the optician’s?’
Elsie bristled. ‘I think I’m the best judge of that, if yer please. And it weren’t the only time he got it wrong neither.’
‘Oh, you’ve always had a tendency to exaggerate,’ Lucy scoffed.
Elsie was indignant. ‘What about this then?’ she demanded haughtily. ‘A few days ago, Larry Barker brought his cart in for a new wheel to be put on, and when he came back to collect it, Charlie had only ruddy well changed the wrong wheel! Then the week afore that, I asked if he’d come into Bedford with me as I had a lot to carry home. We went round the shops and when we got back to the bus-stop there was a queue. When the bus arrived, blow me down if he didn’t follow Maggie Craig on, grab her shopping-bags and sit himself beside her … The silly article thought he were sitting next to me. I wouldn’t mind if she hadn’t got a backside the size of the gasworks and a gob to match!’
At first, Lucy thought she ought not to laugh. Then she began to titter and suddenly the pair of them were laughing hysterically. ‘Now you know why he needs the spectacles,’ Elsie spluttered.
And Lucy had to agree.
‘I’ve done all the chores for now,’ Elsie said finally, wiping her eyes. ‘See you same time tomorrow.’
As the little woman put on her coat, Lucy told her: ‘Be gentle with him, won’t you? I know what a bully you can be when the mood takes you.’
‘Huh!’ Elsie gave her a scornful glance. ‘Look who’s talking!’ Off she went, shoulders high and head up, muttering to herself: ‘Do this, do that … never satisfied unless she’s interfering! Besides, what does she know about my Charlie?’
