Josephine Cox 3-Book Collection 1: Midnight, Blood Brothers, Songbird. Josephine Cox
the bad things she had done.
‘I’m sorry,’ she murmured over and over. ‘I didn’t mean for it to happen, and I’m truly sorry.’
She knew there was something terrible, but she couldn’t remember what it was. Blinded by the tears, she looked up into that beautiful, loving face, and her heart was calmer.
There was so much she needed to tell Him. Secret things, that frightened her. A heavy burden which she was finding increasingly hard to carry. Time and again she had tried so hard to remember, but she couldn’t. All she knew was that she had been bad, and that she needed to be punished.
She tried to remember but it was all muddled in her memory; it was midnight and the moon was low. Something bad was happening and the shocking things she had witnessed. ‘Help me, Lord,’ she murmured. ‘Please help me.’
She began rocking back and forth, increasingly agitated. ‘Oh dear! Oh, dearie me!’ Her quiet sobs echoed through the emptiness. The darkness and the shocking images would never leave her. It was a terrifying burden.
Exhausted and unsure, she made the sign of the cross on herself, stood up, and out loud, she implored Him: ‘Please, Lord, watch over me. Make me good. And please, I need You to love me.’
And then she stumbled down the aisle and out of the door, as though the devil himself was chasing her.
Shocked to see her hurrying towards him, sobbing and calling out his name, Thomas scrambled out of the car and brought her safely back. ‘It’s all right,’ he soothed her. ‘I’ve got you now.’ He was unsettled. What could have happened inside the church to upset her like that? Yet, she had been unsettled since they left the park, ‘Eileen?’
‘I don’t want to talk to you.’ She was frantic. ‘I don’t want you to kiss me again!’
When she began sobbing, there was nothing he could do except start the car and drive her home. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said sincerely. ‘You’re right. I should never have kissed you like that.’ Now he felt as though he’d betrayed her. He should have realised that when she asked him for a ‘proper’ kiss, she really had no idea of what she was asking. But it was not her fault. It was his! He should have been the responsible one.
They covered most of the journey home in absolute silence. But by the time they reached Bower Street, Eileen was chatting away as normal, as though nothing had transpired. Thomas was still in a state of anxiety, but Eileen was incredibly calm, even relaxed.
‘Thank you for taking me to see the ducks, Thomas.’ She patted his hand. ‘When we go again, the little babies will be all grown up, won’t they?’ Her smile was wonderful.
Amazed and shaken by the complete change in her manner, Thomas answered softly, ‘Yes, I believe they will.’ The episode with the kiss, and then the need to visit the church, all appeared to have been forgotten. He was thankful for that much at least.
‘Thomas?’
‘Yes, m’dear?’
‘I’ve been bad, haven’t I?’
‘How do you mean?’
‘Tell me if I’ve been bad. I need to know.’
‘Of course you haven’t.’ He was troubled by her question.
She gave a huge sigh. ‘I love you, Thomas.’
In view of her upset today, he wisely decided not to respond to her declaration of love. Outside the house just as he was getting her out of the car, Libby walked along the street. ‘Well, that was good timing,’ said Thomas. ‘Your Libby’s here. Look!’
Libby ran to hug her mother. ‘Did you have a good time today, Mum?’
Eileen nodded. ‘We went everywhere. We saw the ducks and the big old trees, and it was sunny, then it was raining, and then it was sunny again.’ She laughed out loud. ‘Thomas got it all mixed up!’
Thomas explained, ‘We did have a lovely time.’ Handing Libby the picnic bag, he wisely made no mention of Eileen’s disturbing mood, and how she had gone into the church, only to come out in a blind panic.
‘She’s tired,’ he said. ‘I really should have brought her back earlier.’
Eileen swiftly corrected him. ‘My legs are tired, Thomas, but I’m not tired!’ She gave a long yawn.
‘Aw, she’ll be fine.’ Libby thanked Thomas. ‘I’ll get her a hot drink, then put her to bed for an hour. I imagine you’re ready for a rest yourself. I can’t thank you enough. You’re a dear friend to both of us.’
‘You get some rest,’ he told Eileen. ‘I’ll see you later.’
Pursing her lips, she kissed him on the cheek. ‘Thank you, Thomas.’
Feeling a little easier, Thomas said, ‘It’s me that should be thanking you. I’ve had a wonderful day.’ Apart from the church episode, he thought worriedly. He was momentarily taken aback when Eileen said, ‘You mustn’t worry about me, Thomas.’ He had an odd feeling, almost as though she was reading his mind.
Libby’s voice cut the silence. ‘You’re very welcome to stay and have a drink with us, if you like?’
Thomas graciously refused, ‘I’ll no doubt see you tomorrow, eh?’
As Thomas said his goodbyes, he glanced back as Eileen turned her head to look at him. Her expression was one of gratitude, love and absolute trust.
He thought of the wonderful kiss they had shared and couldn’t help feeling deeply guilty about it.
It was almost midnight when Libby awoke. Something had disturbed her. She got out of bed and went to the window, to look out at the darkness. It was a strange night, she thought. Nothing moved. Everything was too still, too silent. The sky was magnificent – dark and ominous – a night you would not want to be out in. Through the branches of the trees, she could see the moon, hanging like a huge lantern, sending shivers of light across the darkness.
Entranced, Libby was loath to tear herself away, but then she heard the same sound that had awoke her before – a kind of muffled whimper, as though someone was crying. Immediately, she ran out of the room and along the landing. At her mother’s door, she stopped to listen, and she heard the crying. ‘Mum?’ She tapped her knuckles against the wood. ‘Mum, are you all right?’
There was another, different sound, like a chair being moved. ‘Yes, thank you.’
Libby was not convinced. ‘May I come in for a minute?’
‘Why?’
‘Just to see if you’re OK.’
‘All right.’
Libby went inside and found the room in total darkness but for the shaft of moonlight that filtered in through the window. ‘Whatever are you doing there, Mother?’
Eileen was in her nightie, standing by the open window; the curtains, too, were wide open. The room was bitterly cold.
‘Come away from there, Mother!’
Libby hurried across the room. ‘It’s freezing in here. You’ll catch your death!’
As though she hadn’t heard, Eileen remained where she was. ‘Look at that.’ Pointing to the trees, she told Libby, ‘Did you know that trees have arms under the ground?’
Libby closed the window. ‘Trees don’t have arms,’ she answered thoughtfully. ‘They have roots – but I suppose you could say they might look a bit like arms, all long and skinny . . . alive and moving about.’
‘That’s right.’ What Libby had said had