Josephine Cox 3-Book Collection 2: The Loner, Born Bad, Three Letters. Josephine Cox
Davie carefully placed both slips of paper into a neat box with a sliding lid that he had fashioned on his travels. After the experience of losing his father’s contact’s details, he was determined never to lose anything else.
Eli got up and said his goodbyes. ‘My old lass will be wondering where I am,’ he said. ‘Don’t forget to let me know how you’re doing, lad – and don’t concern yourself about Moult.’ Again he gave that knowing smile. ‘Putting that pipsqueak in his place will give me a great deal of pleasure.’
For a long time after Eli left, Davie lay on his bunk, thinking and planning, and hoping that the old man wasn’t about to get himself into trouble on his account. Deep down though, he had a good feeling about it all. Eli must know what he’s doing, he told himself. ‘I could do worse than trust his judgment.’ All the same, unlike Eli, he could not be certain that Brian Moult would let him go so easily. If the police became involved … Davie dare not even think about it.
When a mood of restlessness threatened to settle on him, he decided not to wait for the others to return. If he didn’t go now, he’d never find the courage, he thought.
Throwing on his donkey-jacket and cramming his few belongings into a duffel bag, he opened the door and peered out. The machines had all been turned off and the crowds had gone. In the stillness of night, and from somewhere in the distance, he could hear his two workmates laughing and chatting as they made their way back to the caravan.
Now was his chance. Eli had urged him to get a good night’s sleep, but Davie was too churned up for that. Right now, his instincts were urging him to leave, and to trust that wily old fella Eli to deal with the repercussions.
With the laughter of his two colleagues edging closer with every minute, he grabbed up his bag and left that place. Soft as a fox in the night, he crept away, down the steps and round behind the caravan. Then he ran along by the perimeter of the site, hoisted himself over the fence, and he was free as a bird.
‘Did you see that?’ Having enjoyed a drink or two in a lively seafront pub, the two workmen ambled along, delightfully drunk and disorderly. ‘There’s somebody there,’ full of gas and booze, Josh belched long and hard.
Pete sniggered. ‘Seeing things, are yer, mate? That’s a bad sign, that is. You’ve got the gallopin’ DTs!’
‘No! I’m telling you. Look over there – somebody’s climbing the fence.’
‘You gormless bugger, there’s nothin’ out there!’ Pete said, going to urinate against a tree. ‘You must be seein’ things.’
The two of them went away laughing. ‘You never could take your booze, could yer, Josh. One sip of Newcastle Brown and your imagination runs riot.’ Pete’s raucous laughter echoed across the site. ‘It’ll be monsters coming out the sky next.’
‘Ssh! Stop your noise. I’m taking over from the night-watchman in half an hour, and if that blasted foreman finds out I’ve been boozing, I’ll be on me way, no doubt with you in tow, first thing tomorrow morning.’
The prospect of no work and no wages quietened them for a while. But it wasn’t long before they were again poking fun at each other, helpless with laughter as they fell up the steps to the caravan; so addled with booze, they didn’t even notice that Davie was long gone.
Doggedly pushing ahead, Davie wended his way to the open road, where he hoped he might cadge a lift south. He would not rest easy until he had put as much distance between himself and Billy Joe’s Fairground as he could.
Having grieved to the full for his mother, and been unsuccessful in the search for his father, he was now more than ready for a new chapter in his life.
He felt as though, with this help, he had turned a corner, and maybe, just maybe, there were good things ahead for him.
With that in mind, and with every step he took, his heart felt lighter than it had done in a long, lonely time.
THE JOURNEY WAS hard, and the weather was stormy.
At times almost tropically hot, the rains soon came, and shelter was not easy to find. Hitching a lift was a nightmare as people pushed on, eager to reach their destination and wary of a young man standing by the roadside, bedraggled and wet.
After several uncomfortable days of working his way down the country, Davie was sorely tempted to seek more permanent work and to settle wherever he could lay his head.
But he had promised Eli that he would find his old friend in Bedford. With Ted Baker he had prospects of a new life, a safe haven, and regular money coming into his pocket. That was what he craved, and that was what he kept in mind.
So, he drove himself onwards, sometimes cadging a lift and at other times paying for transport. But with his limited funds, he was making slow headway.
Just when his spirits were at their lowest ebb, the stormy weather cleared, his humble stash of hard-earned money grew, and life was altogether more comfortable. He got a full three weeks of work in the market in Wolverhampton, before following the trail south-east again; but first he visited the second hand clothing stall to replace his boots and clothes, all of which had seen better days.
Never more comfortable than when he was outdoors, free and unencumbered, Davie stripped naked to bathe in brooks and rivers; he slept under trees and immersed himself in the privacy and seclusion he had long valued. Day and night, the skies were his umbrella and the wild creatures were his friends. And when he let his mind wander, it always went back home to Blackburn, to his grandad and Judy. He wondered whether his father had been in touch with the old man, and if he had, did he now know the truth about what had happened after he walked out on them? Did he want to find his son? And was he even now, out there somewhere, searching for Davie?
Disillusioned and cynical, Davie would sigh at the thought, and push it from his mind. He wasn’t ready yet to make contact with Joseph, or even with Judy. Time had moved on, and so much was altered. He had spent many long months searching for his father, and Don was nowhere to be found. What made him think his father would be out on the road searching for him? And what if, by some miracle, they did find each other? Would they still be the same as before? Had his father changed? Would he find his son changed?
Would they be able to pick up where they had left off? And more importantly, would Davie be able to forgive how he walked out? Even now, Davie couldn’t help but wonder … if his father had stayed, would his mother still be alive?
Davie was haunted by what might have been, but he did not apportion blame. It was simply a sorry series of events over which, it seemed, no one had had any control.
When he thought of his father, he was afraid of losing him, in the same way he had lost everything that was precious in his life. And when he thought of his mother, he was angry and sad, and filled with bitterness at the circumstances that had made her that way.
Day and night, these haunting thoughts never left him. They were part of his past and they shaped his future. And that future seemed a vast empty place.
When he thought of Judy though, his heart warmed. In his mind’s eye he saw her happy bright smile, he heard the light, musical sound of her laughter. He saw her running across the paddock, long brown hair flying out behind her and no shoes on her feet. He imagined her sitting cross-legged on the grass, wide-eyed and full of wonder as she listened to his fanciful dreams and his excited ramblings. And oh, how she had cared; more than anyone else, it was Judy who had shared his impossible dreams.
She had been such a big part of his growing-up, and he missed her terribly. And he knew that, if he travelled the world over,