if that’s the boy’s father,’ he told Jess as they strolled on, ‘but even if it’s not, Lucy seems content enough with him.’
Just then he heard a scream and on looking down again, he could see that Lucy had taken a tumble as she climbed the stile; he could see her lying among the big stones there and she didn’t appear to be moving. ‘Good God! Looks like she’s hurt!’ As he ran forward the dog bounded in front, ears pricked, sensing danger. Lucy wasn’t getting up! What the hell was the bloke playing at? Cupping his hands, Barney called out: ‘You there! Is she all right?’
As Barney drew nearer he could see how the man was standing still, looking down on Lucy and not making any move to help her. Suddenly he threw his kitbag over his shoulder and, with a backward glance at Barney, he began walking away, slowly at first then quickening his steps, and now with Barney less than fifty yards away, he bent his head, lengthened his stride and took off at speed. ‘I can’t help her, I’ve a ship waiting!’ he yelled as he ran. ‘I don’t even know the woman.’
Barney had a choice; he could either go after the man and teach him a lesson he might never forget, or he could help Lucy, who was lying in a crooked position with her head oozing blood against a boulder.
His choice was no choice at all. He had to help Lucy. By now she was groaning; trying to move but seeming unable to.
Coming nearer, he began talking to her, soothing her as he fell to his knees beside her. ‘It’s all right, Lucy,’ he said softly. ‘You’ve taken a knock to the head, but you’ll be fine, don’t worry. I’ll get you home to my Vicky. She’ll know what to do.’
When Lucy gave no answer, he continued talking to her in a quiet voice, at the same time gently sliding his two arms under her slight form and collecting her to his chest. To him, she was but a feather in his arms, for he was a man possessed of strength that came from a lifetime labouring in the fields.
The movement disturbed her. With dazed vision she stared up at him, her shocked eyes looking into his. ‘Where’s Edward?’ she asked brokenly, but her voice remained silent. Try as she might, she could not make her voice be heard. And now she closed her eyes and let herself drift. ‘Edward?’ Where was he?
‘Lie quiet, Lucy.’ Sensing her agitation, he guessed she was wondering about the cowardly man. ‘I’ve got you now,’ he told her. ‘You’ll have to trust me.’ All the way home, he kept reassuring her, until she was limp and senseless in his arms.
Barney was a fit man who would have normally taken ten or fifteen minutes to reach his home from that particular spot, but Lucy was now a dead weight and with his every footstep she grew heavier in his arms, until home seemed a million miles away. ‘Go in front, lass!’ he called to the red-setter. ‘Let her know I’m on my way.’
Vicky was taking in the washing when the dog came running up to nuzzle her legs. A small, golden-haired woman with soft grey eyes, she greeted the dog with a stroke of the head. ‘What’s the matter, girl, eh?’ she laughed. Jess was a devil for the play and leaping at her now, even though she had an armful of clean clothes. ‘No! Get off, you unruly hound.’ The setter had run a long way at a fast pace and now her tongue was hanging out and slaver running from her jowls. Vicky feared she might drop the washing, and then: ‘You’ll slobber on the clothes, and I’ll have to wash the blooming things all over again!’
When Jess continued to nuzzle her, Vicky dropped the clothes into the basket. Snatching it up into her arms, she chided the animal. ‘What’s got into you? Behave yourself!’
Now, as she turned, she caught sight of Barney out of the corner of her eye; a distance from the house and treading every step with care, he was carrying what she at first thought was a dead sheep. ‘BARNEY!’ Raising her voice, she ran forward. ‘WHAT’S HAPPENED?’
Encouraged by the sight of home and his beloved, Barney hurried to her as fast as he could. ‘It’s Lucy,’ he panted. ‘She’s taken a bad tumble. I reckon she needs a doctor and fast!’
Running before him, Vicky opened all the doors and in no time at all, Lucy was laid on the spare bed, with a blanket over her. ‘You fetch the doctor,’ Vicky instructed her husband. ‘I’ll get her out of these clothes and make her comfortable.’
And so, while Vicky set about helping Lucy, Barney rode into the village of Comberton on his bicycle to fetch the doctor.
By the time Vicky had bathed the wound on Lucy’s head, changed her into one of her own nightgowns, and tucked her up in bed, Lucy was more alert, though still dizzy and not yet able to focus properly. ‘Jamie!’ Her first concern was for her son.
Vicky quietened her. ‘He’s fine,’ she said. ‘If you want, I’ll ask Barney to go over and bring him to you, but for now, he’s safe with Tillie, isn’t he? She’s taking good care of him.’
Subdued, Lucy cast her mind back to when she fell. ‘I was running …’ she tried to explain. ‘Edward … he …’ She raised her head a short distance from the pillow and dropped it again as though it was too heavy for her shoulders. ‘He was behind me when I fell.’ She tried to look into the room. ‘Where is he?’
Vicky had no idea who this Edward was. ‘I don’t know,’ she replied kindly. ‘I expect he won’t be far away.’
Lucy despaired. ‘He’s gone, hasn’t he?’ she whispered sadly. ‘He’s gone – and he’s never coming back.’ In her deepest heart she had always known he would be gone at the first opportunity, but she had so much wanted to be wrong. Her heart and her head had been at odds about Edward from the day he had set his sights on her. It was so hard to give up hope, to see things as they really were.
‘I can’t answer that,’ Vicky answered softly. ‘We’ll find your Edward, I’m sure, the minute Barney comes back.’
However kindly her intention, Vicky’s assurances gave Lucy small comfort. Desolate, she closed her eyes and let the sleep roll over her. He was gone. Edward was gone; and it had all been too good to be true. He hadn’t even seen their son.
When Dr Lucas arrived he gave Lucy a swift yet thorough examination. ‘There doesn’t seem to be any lasting damage,’ he concluded, ‘though I would prefer her not to be too active, for at least a week.’
He handed Vicky a bottle of dark brown liquid. ‘Bathe the wound in this morning and night, but it must not be covered … fresh air is the best thing. Light food, and a little exercise, but she must rest. A week of that, and I expect her to be good as new.’ Having given his diagnosis and delivered the prescription, he bade them goodbye. ‘You know where I am if you should need me,’ he declared, in that abrupt manner of any good doctor.
Afterwards, while Vicky went downstairs to put the kettle on, Barney told Lucy what the doctor had said. ‘It might be best if you stay here with us for the week,’ he suggested, and Lucy thanked him. ‘If it isn’t too much trouble?’ she said tearfully.
‘No trouble at all,’ he promised. With a smile he added, ‘With three offspring and yon Jess, I can’t deny we’re a noisy family at times, but I’ll make sure you’re not too disturbed. One of us’ll nip over to the squire’s tomorrow morning and let ’em know you’ve had a little accident so they won’t expect to see you again for a few days, all right?’
Lucy thanked him again, and when he left her to rest, she cried until she thought her heart would break. Edward was gone, and with him, her own chance of a proper family. Her son would never know his father, and she would never experience the true happiness that she had witnessed between Barney and his Vicky.
Those two had something beautiful, a very special belonging that she could never even hope for.
IT WAS ONE of the happiest weeks Lucy had ever known. Having worked at the squire’s house for some time now, she had come to know