Josephine Cox

A Family Secret: No. 1 Bestseller of family drama


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forget, we planned to sneak away early tonight and there’s work to be done.’

      ‘D’you think I don’t know that?’ Big John spat on the ground. ‘You don’t need to tell me how it is and I know we should be grateful to have work to go to. I understand that.’

      ‘Good. And let’s not forget Blackpool in summer does have its compensations,’ Danny gently reminded him. He gave a wide grin as he stole a peep over the railings and down to the beach. ‘Hey!’ He pointed excitedly. ‘Take a look at that little beauty stretched out. There, the one against the wall on the pink towel!’ He made a whooping sound. ‘It’s a crying shame we’re not down there, taking it easy and chatting up these dolly birds.’

      John treated himself to a peek at the blonde and gave a cheeky wink. ‘Let’s not forget that we’re a bit long in the tooth for chasing the young’uns. It might improve our chances if we had money to throw about, but neither of us has ever been fortunate in that respect.’

      ‘That’s very true, more’s the pity,’ Danny sighed. ‘The sad truth is we’re meant to work till we drop.’ There was real regret in his voice as thoughts of various women who had passed through his life, and one in particular, crowded his mind.

      As his mood lowered, he forged ahead, calling back to his mate, ‘Move yourself, will you? And don’t think I can’t see you sneaking another glance at the half-clad women down there. We’re agreed we both need this job, at least for a few more years. So let’s get on with it …’

      John tried to raise the mood with some banter. ‘As for you, Danny Boy, you try to keep your eyes ahead, too. Forget the beautiful women, ’cos they’re not looking at you, are they?’ He gave a snigger. ‘While they would happily spend a night with a fine man like myself, I’m not altogether sure they would really appreciate a crinkly-faced little squirt like you.’

      Danny took the harmless dig in the spirit in which it was given. ‘I’ll have you know there’s a heap o’ life in this old dog yet. I’m nowhere near ready for the knacker’s yard.’

      John gave a mischievous wink. ‘Me neither. And though I say it myself, there is still a good tune left in this old fiddle.’ Giggling like two naughty schoolboys, they each recalled the wild and naughty antics in a misspent youth, when their manly prowess and lust for the girls was at full throttle. Life had been theirs for living to the full, and pretty girls had flocked round them like bees to a honey-pot.

      Eventually the big man broke the mood with a great sigh. ‘Well, Danny Boy, we really did have some great times back in the day, didn’t we, eh? How desperately I wish we were young and virile again!’

      Danny gave a sorry little snort. ‘You mean when we had more hair on our heads, and naughty tattoos proudly across our chests and a woman on each arm?’ He sighed at the memories. ‘Now the girls have moved on, and the tattoos are sagging.’ His voice dropped as he added sombrely, ‘Just like everything else if you know what I mean?’

      ‘Oh, but I do.’ John lapsed into silence. ‘I really am worried about the future,’ he admitted eventually.

      ‘How could we have been so stupid? We should have made plans for our old age. We’ve been enjoying ourselves too much, that’s why!’

      ‘We’ve only ourselves to blame. We’ve never earned much but what we had we spent. Still, what’s done is done and we can’t ever turn the clock back. It’s no use grumbling about it! Instead, we should be thanking our lucky stars that we’ve been able to enjoy life and still be as healthy as we are. Look on the bright side, we’ve got good jobs and a regular wage. And though we’ve left it a bit late we are now, at last, starting to think about the future.’

      ‘Not every working man is as fortunate as us. Look at poor Len Waterman. He’s a year or two younger than us, but he’s so crippled with arthritis he can hardly get along. Fate can be so cruel. If he hadn’t fallen off that roof, he might have been working alongside us even yet. But he seems to get worse as the days pass. More’s the pity.’

      ‘But by God, don’t the years just fly by. Even when we were in our forties we had enough knowledge to start our own business. We should have taken the bull by the horns back then,’ John said quietly. ‘You’re right, Danny Boy. We’ll just have to concentrate on what we’ve actually achieved and not dwell on what we’ve lost. Who knows, we might yet give another thought to the idea of setting up in our own business? We can make a success of it if that’s what we aim for. ’

      Both men felt uplifted to have discussed most of the matters that had been weighing heavily on their minds. They squared their shoulders and put a spring in their step as they continued along the Promenade, ready and raring to set about the day’s workload.

      Taking a grubby old handkerchief from his trouser pocket, John slapped it across his nose and blew hard. ‘Dammit, I reckon I’ve got a cold coming on.’ He moaned under his breath, before blowing his nose again. ‘Look there! Do you see that tired old woman across the way? Poor old bugger, she’s been lumbered with that huge bag … no doubt filled to the brim with kids’ stuff, all dumped on her by her family. Really struggling she is.’

      Danny stole a glance at the woman. ‘Bless her old heart. I’m sorely tempted to go and help her. She looks well and truly done in, so she does.’

      John produced from his overalls pocket a piece of paper on which was scrawled a list of tasks for the week, some already crossed off. ‘Come on, matey! We’d best crack on. No time for rescuing damsels in distress, and look her family are catching her now. I wouldn’t mind betting she’s got a little dram o’whisky hidden inside that bag. The crafty old devil.’ He gave a deep-throated chuckle, before waving the list under Danny’s nose. ‘I expect you’ll want to start on her first?’ He gestured in the direction of the Blue Bench. ‘She’s looking a bit weathered of late, don’t you think?’ John strode on, clutching his list and grumbling as he went to his own tasks, leaving the bench to Danny.

      He paused to admire her, ‘She’s like an old friend,’ he murmured, ‘this place would never be the same without her. And you’re right … she does seem to be looking a bit worse for wear, but you can’t blame the old girl for looking worn out. Not when she’s facing the elements twenty-four hours a day, year in year out.’ He chuckled loudly, ‘In some ways, she’s a bit like us, don’t you think? Forging onwards, whatever the weather throws at us, and just like her, we’ve learned to stand strong against the elements. I’d love to know what her story is.’

      When Danny looked up at the Blue Bench, his ready smile faltered and his heart seemed to flip over. It couldn’t be … Surely not! The lovely Marie Foster sitting on the bench – alone.

       CHAPTER THREE

      MARIE HAD ARRIVED at the Blue Bench very early this morning. After she’d received Eileen’s note she decided to skip breakfast at the hotel in case she bumped into Eileen and Tony in the dining room. Instead, she’d bought a cup of tea at a seafront stall and would have enjoyed the stroll along the Promenade had it not been for her nervousness.

      Why had she put off suggesting this meeting all these years? The longer she’d left it, the harder it had become to make this move. Even now she was halfway to thinking she’d just scarper and forget all about it, especially as Eileen’s note didn’t have what you might call a friendly tone.

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      Tony has agreed to meet you so I suppose I had better come along, too. I don’t know what your game is, Marie, but don’t you dare ever, ever tell him our secret.

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      Well, that left no room for doubt.

      And just what was her ‘game’, Marie asked herself as she sat down on the Blue Bench, clutching her