Classic Bestsellers from Josephine Cox: Bumper Collection. Josephine Cox
Amy’s part, she was glad that Maureen had found the courage to confide this much in her. Now Maureen seemed easier with herself; her smile was brighter and she was more relaxed than Amy had ever seen her.
As for Johnny, he had been in his element at the park and now, hand in hand with them both, he was as carefree and happy as any young child should be. It was heart-warming to see.
‘ARE YOU SURE you don’t mind me going early?’ In the last hour there had been a continuous flow of customers, and Amy was concerned about leaving her mother to deal with them on her own. ‘With four people to serve and probably more on the way, it wouldn’t be fair to leave you on your own, Mam.’
Marie waved aside her concern. ‘I’m more than capable.’ She lifted the bag of dolly-blues from the cupboard. ‘You get off and meet Daisy.’ She glanced at the wall clock. ‘If you don’t get away now, you’ll miss the tram and she’ll think you’ve let her down.’ Giving her a gentle prod she added cautiously, ‘With the way things are between her parents, you’re the only light in that girl’s life, so be off with you!’
‘Only if you’re sure.’ Amy couldn’t help but feel guilty.
A sharp voice interrupted them. ‘Are you serving us, or what? We’ve been waiting ages and I need to get back. My sister’s coming up from Buckingham, and I’ve not even got her bed ready!’ That was old Alice, complaining as usual.
‘Well, you are a lazy bugger, Alice.’ That was John Tupp, a wily old fellow from Whalley Banks, on the way to Clitheroe; he often came into the shop to have a chat. ‘It were Monday last when you told me your sister were coming to stay, and here you are not even got her bed ready. By! What the devil do you do with your time, eh? That’s what I’d like to know.’
‘I reckon she’s got a man tucked away somewhere.’ Tiny Mrs Jacobs was the pawnbroker’s wife. ‘If you ask me, there’s more to Alice than any of us know.’
‘Gerraway!’ A bit of a randy devil himself, Ronnie Leatherhead had been through more relationships than all the neighbours put together. ‘A man would have more sense than to link up with Alice. She’s too bloody mean and crotchety.’
‘One thing’s for sure,’ Alice bit back, ‘you’d never get the chance to “link up” with me, not in a month o’ Sundays!’
Chuckling at Alice’s remarks, Marie propelled Amy to the end of the counter. ‘Get yourself ready and catch that tram,’ she said. ‘I’ll be fine on my own. Just you go and enjoy yourself, lass. Lord knows, you’ve earned it.’ She was amazed at how hard Amy worked, from the minute they opened the shop, to the minute they cashed up. Tireless, she was, and thorough with it.
As Amy went out of the shop and into the living quarters, she heard her mother chiding the customers, ‘Hey! That’s enough of the arguing. Now then, who’s first?’
There was a span of shocked silence, before the arguing started again.
A short time later, Amy returned to the shop, to find the customers quietly behaved and her mother dealing with them in her own calm, collected manner. ‘Give Daisy my love.’ She gave Amy a peck on the cheek. ‘And mind you don’t spend all your hard-earned money.’
‘You look nice, lass.’ Old John’s eyes lit up. ‘By! I wish I were young again. Off to see young Daisy Robertson, are you?’
‘Yes, she is!’ Marie pushed Amy towards the end of the counter. ‘And if you keep her talking, she’ll never catch her tram.’
To Amy she murmured, ‘He’s right though, lass. You do look lovely.’ Amy had on a pale pink blouse with loose neck and long sleeves, and a brown straight skirt that showed off her curves. Her hair was bouncy and her eyes were shining, and altogether she looked lovely.
‘Thanks, Mam.’
Amy was really looking forward to spending a few hours with Daisy. ‘I wonder if she remembers where we’re meeting this time?’ she remarked with a hearty chuckle. ‘Last time we arranged to meet, she waited on Ackeroyd Street instead of under the market-clock. It was nearly an hour before she remembered. Then it started raining and by the time she got to me, the pair of us were all wet and bedraggled.’
Marie laughed out loud. ‘That’s Daisy for you!’
As Amy went out the door, she heard the old man telling Marie, ‘I feel for that young Robertson lass. Her father is a right bad lot, and as for the mother, well … every man in Blackburn knows how she earns her spending money.’
When the other customers joined in to condemn Daisy’s parents, Marie wisely and light-heartedly put a stop to it. She knew what they were saying was the hard truth, but it wasn’t the kind of banter she wanted to hear; especially not when Daisy was her daughter’s best friend.
The shouting and screaming had gone on for a full hour.
‘Get your hands off her, you bastard!’ Painted with rouge and lipstick, her hair bleached to the roots and wearing a dress that revealed too much for comfort, Daisy’s mother knew how to handle herself.
Taking the poker from its stand, she confronted Daisy’s father. A mountain of a man, he had Daisy pinned to the door, his two arms folded across her neck and his considerable weight pressing against her. ‘You’re going nowhere!’ he growled. ‘Not till you tell me who was in here last night. And don’t try lying through your teeth, because I know she had a bloke in here. I might be thick, but I’m not bloody stupid!’
Her face stained with tears, Daisy stared him out. ‘I’ve already told you,’ her words came out in a strangled muffle, ‘I don’t know anything.’
‘You’re a madman! Let go of her!’ Daisy’s mother screamed, prodding him repeatedly with the poker. ‘There’s been no fella in here … not last night or any other sodding night! There were only me and Daisy. Now let her go, or I swear to God, I’ll do for you!’
In a sudden move that left her buckled against the door, he threw Daisy aside and, grabbing hold of the woman, wrapped his hands about her neck. ‘So! You’ll “do for me”, will you?’ he laughed. ‘Well now, let’s see you try, eh?’ Wrenching the poker from her hands, he grappled her to the ground. There then followed a lot of shouting and threats as they tore at each other with blind hatred.
Suddenly there was a bang on the wall, and a neighbour yelled, ‘If you don’t stop the racket this minute, I’m fetching the police!’
‘See what you’ve done now, you silly, jealous bugger!’ As he continued to bear down on her, Daisy’s mother fought like a tiger. ‘You’ll be getting us thrown out on the streets with your shenanigans!’
‘Aw, come on, tek no notice of them buggers next door.’ Stroking her breast he gave a knowing grin. ‘What say we make up, eh?’
In a matter of minutes, the two of them were rolling about on the floor, laughing and teasing, and blatantly petting each other.
‘You make me sick!’ Disgusted with what was now happening before her eyes, Daisy ran to the scullery where she sobbed for a while. Then she washed her face, tidied her hair, straightened her tight little dress and checked her stocking seams, then, going out the back door, prayed the neighbours would not stop her as she ran down the street.
‘I hate them!’ she muttered. ‘I wish they’d kill each other!’
Twenty minutes later, she stepped off the bus at the market square, where Amy was patiently waiting under the clock.
‘Daisy!’ Catching sight of her, she ran forward. ‘Where in God’s name have you been? I began to think you weren’t coming.’
Daisy hurried to meet her. ‘No you didn’t,’ she teased. ‘You thought