Live the Dream (25 page)

After the customers had all gone, Amy saw that Maureen was close to tears.

'Is it all right if we go into the back, Mam?' she asked, her arm round Maureen's shoulders.

Marie could see the turn of events and her heart went out to the other woman. 'Aye, lass, you two go on. It's quieter now. Yer can send Johnny out to help me sweep up the sugar, if yer like.' It was Marie's way of letting Amy and Maureen have the little chat they obviously needed.

A short time later, with her son out in the shop, Maureen apologised to Amy. 'I should have told you the truth before,' she said tearfully, 'only I were that ashamed, I couldn't bring myself to speak of it. I thought if you knew my Arnie was in prison, you would never want me or Johnny anywhere near you again.'

Amy was mortified. 'I would never turn you and little Johnny away,' she said. 'I love you both, like my own family. And if you don't want to tell me your troubles even now, it's all right. You don't have to.'

Maureen took Amy's hand into her own. 'You're a lovely lass,' she said, wiping her tears away with her free hand. 'I reckon you've known all along there was summat I had to hide, but you've never pressed me, and I'm grateful for that.'

Amy could see how this whole sorry business was too painful for Maureen, and she didn't really know how to help her. But she could listen, and she could offer support. 'Like I say, Maureen, if you feel it's something you're not able to discuss, then don't. But if you can trust me, you know I'll keep your confidence and I'd like to help, if I can.'

'I know you would,' Maureen acknowledged, 'but it's not summat anybody can help with.'

'Try me,' Amy urged. 'You never know.'

Nervously, Maureen confessed how she had been deceiving everyone. 'When I told you Arnie was working away,' she began, 'I was lying. He isn't working at all. He's serving ten years in gaol, for attempted murder.' Glancing about, she lowered her voice. 'His name is Arnold Stratton; the man who was convicted of attacking Sylvia Hammond.'

'Good God!' Amy could hardly believe her ears. 'No wonder you've had to move from place to place. No wonder you didn't want anybody to know.' She began to understand now.

'Langdon is my maiden name,' Maureen explained. 'I don't want people making the connection with Arnold Stratton, particularly for Johnny's sake. We've come to like living round here, and Johnny thinks the world of you,' she went on. 'You and Marie are the first friends we've had in a long time. It would break his heart, and mine too, if we were thrown out of Derwent Street.'

Taking both of Amy's hands in hers, Maureen clutched them tightly. 'That's why you mustn't say anything,' she pleaded. 'I know Marie heard just now, and I know I can trust her like I can trust you, but don't tell nobody else. Promise me that much, Amy. Please? For Johnny's sake, if not for mine.'

'Your secret's safe with us,' Amy promised. 'Does Johnny know about his daddy?'

'No, and I don't want him to. Arnie has a terrible temper on him—but he can't help himself. His imprisonment has brought shame on us both. I'm terrified that me and Johnny will be tarred with the same brush.' She wiped away a tear. 'It would hurt the lad too much if he found out. So far, thank God, he doesn't know the truth of why we've had to keep moving on, and I pray he never will.'

'He won't learn it from me or Mam,' Amy declared. 'You need have no fear on that score.'

Maureen took her friend's hand and squeezed it in silent gratitude.

'You say he's known to be violent?' said Amy.

That's right! He'll think nothing of lashing out with fists and feet, and anything else that comes to hand. He threw a vase at me once and cut my forehead, look!' Shifting her hair aside, she displayed a crooked scar across the top of her hairline. 'A couple of inches nearer and he would have blinded me for sure!'

Amy shook her head in disbelief. This was the kind of thing she heard about Daisy's parents. 'And he's confessed to having had an affair with Sylvia Hammond?'

'Aye, that's right enough, lass—her and several other women that I know of!'

She saw what Amy was getting at and now she could see it herself. 'Why! The bugger's led me a merry dance these years.' She gave a harsh laugh. 'An' there's me half believing his self-pitying and his moaning, instead of him taking his punishment like a man. He's bullying me even from inside prison.'

When a moment later Johnny came back into the room, Amy took it as a sign that her mammy was waiting for help in closing up the shop for lunch.

'Thank you, Amy.' Maureen was grateful for Amy's sympathetic ear. 'You'll not breathe a word of what we've discussed, will you…except to your mammy o' course?'

'You know I won't.' Amy saw her and the boy out to the doorstep. 'Mind how you go,' she gave them each a hug, 'and remember, I'm here if you need me.'

When they were gone, and Marie's curiosity was satisfied, she came to the same conclusion as Amy. 'It seems the man's a bully and a brute and, if you ask me, he's in the right place.'

What Maureen had told Amy was still playing on her mind after she went to her bed that night.

Poor Maureen. Amy tried to imagine what it might be like to be married to a violent man—a man who had been in prison—to live in fear of violence and bullying.

Then her mind ran to the other victim of Arnold Stratton's violence: Sylvia Hammond. Why had she turned to this dreadful fella when she was married to someone so widely admired? Amy's father, and others, had firsthand experience of Luke Hammond and had only praise for him. She could not believe a man like that would ever deserve to be betrayed. If his reputation for fair-mindedness, even generosity, for sympathy and humanity, even despite his sharp business mind, were anything to go by, he sounded like the kind of man any woman would be glad to spend her life with.

Well done, Jack. You've done a good job.' Trusting his own judgement, Luke Hammond had given Jack more responsibility than usual, and as always, the lad had not let him down. 'I wanted the buyers to get a good impression when they came to look round. They went away more than satisfied, and now I'm hopeful we'll get that big contract.'

Jack appreciated the praise. 'If there's any chance of them using us to store and deliver their merchandise, we can't let them slip through our fingers.'

That was Luke's thinking also. 'You never cease to amaze me, Jack,' he said thoughtfully. 'You're a born businessman, if ever I saw one. I wouldn't be at all surprised if one of these fine days, you'll be up and away to start your own company. Am I right?'

'I won't deny it, Mr Hammond,'Jack answered cautiously. 'It's allus been my ambition to have my own factory. But I reckon it's a long time away yet.'

'I wouldn't be too sure of that if I were you. You're not a man to sit on his backside while the competition takes over,' he told Jack. 'You'll want to be up there with the best of them. I've no doubt about that.'

Suspicious that Luke Hammond was preparing to be rid of him, Jack assured him, 'It all teks money, as you well know, so I dare say you'll not see the back of me for some time yet.'

Luke nodded. 'You're right about the money. You'll get nowhere without it, that's for certain, but it isn't everything. If a man's got drive and commitment enough, he'll always find a way. That's why I know you'll do it, and when that day comes, it'll be a bad one for me, I'm aware of that.' He smiled warmly. 'Happen the customers will move over to you. Then again, happen they'll stay loyal to me. We'll have to see who's the better man, won't we, eh?'

Made nervous by Luke's last remark, Jack asked pointedly, 'Now that you know I mean to have my own business one day, I expect you'll be wanting me out now.'

Luke looked him in the eye. 'The fact that you have a mind to be your own boss has only strengthened my faith in you. If I were to get rid of a man like you, I'd be the biggest fool this side of London town.'

Jack was astonished. 'How's that, Mr Hammond?'

Luke took a moment to observe the younger man: that tall, confident stance and the aura of conviction. 'You remind me of myself when I was that bit younger.' He laid a hand on Jack's shoulder. 'You know what you want and you'll not rest until you get it. You work hard and plan hard, and head towards your dream until it becomes hard reality.' His face crinkled into a deep smile. 'I admire that in a man.'

'You've got me bang to rights,' Jack admitted. 'I've allus known what I want. And even if you were to send me on my way now, I'll never lose sight of my ambition, nor will I ever give up!'

'Do you think I don't know that?' Luke went on to explain his thinking. 'I've no intentions of sending you on your way. I want you here with me, where I can keep an eye on you.' He took a deep breath. 'Think about it, Jack. I'd be sending you straight to the competition, and that would be the act of a very naive and stupid man…which I hope I'm not.'

Jack nodded. 'I see what you're getting at.'

'Good man! But that's not the only reason I want you here.' He paused to formulate his words. 'I'm sure you've already realised how fast we're expanding. Work is taking off at such a rate; the orders are pouring in and it seems before too long, I'll have need of another warehouse and a couple more wagons. That means I'll have more management work than a man can handle on his own, and that's where you come in.'

Jack was intrigued. 'In what way?'

'I have plans for you, Jack,' Luke replied. 'Plans that will give you a free hand, and put you in good stead for the day you captain your own company.'

Jack was secretly delighted. 'You seem to have a lot of faith in me, if you don't mind me saying.'

'I have,' Luke confirmed, 'but only because you've earned it.'

With that he moved away. 'Best start closing up.' Glancing up at the clock he saw it was already ten minutes to six. 'It's been a long day. Happen tomorrow will be a bit easier.'

'Good night, Mr Hammond.'

'Good night, Jack.'

Having secured his own office, Luke made his way out to the car, leaving Jack to close up the factory.

'I hope she's in a better mood than when I left her this morning,' Luke said aloud, speeding his way home.

Lately he'd got into the habit of talking to himself, which wasn't surprising when he had no one else to confide in. Even Edna could never understand what was in his heart…all those futile hopes and dreams and broken ambitions, of raising a family arid growing old with the woman he had loved and married.

Now they were all gone. And there were times when he felt like the loneliest man in the world. Having drawn up to the house, for a minute he was tempted to turn the car round, drive away and never come back. For too long now, his life had been a roller-coaster ride. There were times when he could hardly bear to leave Sylvia behind in the mornings. Other times he wished himself a million miles away. Or at least in the cabin in the woods—starting a new life, more peaceful and possibly less lonely…

Knowing he had no alternative but to face the certain chaos Sylvia's mood this morning foretold, he nosed the car into the driveway and drew it to a halt. For a long, aching moment he folded his arms across the steering wheel and, resting his head on them, briefly closed his eyes. He was tired, drained, devoid of energy.

He consoled himself with the knowledge that tomorrow was Tuesday. Out there in the wilderness he could breathe, and smile, and feel the weight of his burden slip away.

He locked the car and went inside the house, his feet like lead, and his heart too.

He braced himself for what was coming. He had never shirked his responsibility, and he would not shirk it now.

'I'm glad you're home, sir.' On her knees, beginning to clear away the crumbs of an apple pie, Edna looked frazzled. 'She's been unsettled all day.'

He glanced around the kitchen. There was no sign of Sylvia, but the oven door was wide open and there were pieces of broken earthenware scattered from one end of the room to the other. He was very familiar with the results of Sylvia's rages.

'What happened, Edna?'

'It's all right,' she answered, 'I've managed to persuade her upstairs. She took her medication and I watched her until it was all gone. She's getting sly about it again—says it makes her too tired, and I suspect she's been pouring it away although she swears not. I've tucked her in. I expect she'll be sleeping like a babe when you go up.'

With an inward sigh of relief, he thanked her. 'You look all in, Edna. Go home and put your feet up. I'll take over now.'

Edna did not argue. It had been one of those days when she would be glad to get home.

'Thank you, sir,' she said. 'If you need me, you know where I am.' Sylvia was like a child to her and, weary or not, she would remain on call, any time, day or night. Then she was quickly gone, though not to 'put her feet up', as Luke had suggested. Instead she would cook the dinner and clear up behind her, before starting that enormous pile of ironing. By then her joints would be aching and her feet swollen like new-made bread.

Sylvia slept quietly throughout the night.

Occasionally checking that she was all right, Luke alternately paced the floor and slept fitfully.

On Tuesday morning, he couldn't wait to get out of the house. No factory, no noise or people, no fretting over Sylvia, just peace and quiet in the heart of God's creation, where he could think straight and not be disturbed.

That humble cabin in the heart of the woods was his only sanctuary. If he didn't have that, he believed he might go out of his mind.

At seven thirty, washed, shaved and looking every bit the businessman, he went down the landing to check on Sylvia; she was still fast asleep, hair across the pillow and arms akimbo—like a child, he thought.

Half an hour later, just as he was clearing away his breakfast things, Georgina arrived, looking stunning in a dark green, tight-fitting two-piece and her hair superbly groomed and shining.

'You should have waited,' she chided. 'I would have cooked your breakfast, you know that.'