Again, he drew her to a halt. 'If I was—though it happens I'm not—I'd cancel whatever it was,' he promised. 'To tell you the truth, Amy, I don't think I can wait a whole week before I see you again.'
'Well, you'll have to,' she replied firmly. 'Saturday is the best time for me, so it's that or nothing.' 'Then it'll have to be Saturday,' he conceded. 'And will you change your mind about letting me walk you home?' She smiled. 'One thing at a time,' she mimicked, wagging a finger. 'Let's not run before we can walk.'
His face wreathed in a gentle smile, he nodded. 'You've got me there,' he acknowledged. 'Good night then, Jack.' Good night, Amy.'
As Amy turned away he laid his hands on her shoulders and tenderly swung her round. He didn't say anything and | neither did she, but she knew he wanted to kiss her, and she wanted the same.
When he bent his head towards her, for a brief moment she remembered the man who had kissed her and betrayed her, and she wanted to turn away, but a deeper instinct kept her there. She raised her lips to his and when the softness of his mouth was pressed against hers, she enjoyed the experience to the full.
When it was over, he dropped his arms to his sides, his voice tender. 'Good night, Amy.'
Amy nodded, and walked on, her heart beating fifteen to the dozen and her lips tingling from Jack's kiss. 'That was nice,' she murmured. But that's all it was, she thought. At that vulnerable moment the image of her ex-fiancé had come into her mind. She wasn't ready for a serious relationship just yet. She quickened her steps.
'AMY…WAIT!'
Coming to a halt she turned to see Jack running after her. 'I forgot to ask…where will we meet?'
She'd forgotten as well.I'll be up Corporation Park…about half-past two,' she laughed. 'Oh, and don't forget to bring a bag o' bread when you come.'
When he looked at her in disbelief she explained, 'We often feed the ducks on a Saturday, me and Johnny.'
'Who's Johnny?'
'A fella I know. Good-looking and fun to be with, he is.'
'And I'll get to meet him on Saturday, will I?' The tiniest hint of jealousy showed in his voice.
'You'll like him,' she went on. 'He's not the easiest of people to get on with. He's a bit wary of strangers, y'see? If he likes you, he'll be your friend for life. But if he doesn't take to you straight off, he'll have nothing to do with you at all.'
'Hmm! He sounds a moody sort of a fella to me.'
Amy left him wondering. 'See you Saturday,' she said, and hurried towards home smiling to herself all the way.
She wondered what Jack would think of little Johnny and, more to the point, what Johnny would think of him.
It had been a hot day and now the night was unbearably humid. Unable to sleep, Luke threw off the bedclothes and for a moment he just lay there, arms above his head, eyes closed, and the tiredness seeping through his every bone.
His mind, though, was alive with all manner of thoughts and emotions: pride in his work and the new contract he had managed to secure in spite of heavy competition; anxiety about Sylvia, who had been increasingly difficult of late. The dark, uncontrollable thoughts came with ferocity, lasted a moment or two and fell away just as quickly.
It pained him to see her suffering like that. He wanted to do more. He wanted her to be the vibrant, shrewd woman she once had been. But that woman was long gone, and he could do nothing to help her. No one could.
As always when he felt tired and lonely, his thoughts shifted to Amy. He recalled her warm, bright smile and those pretty eyes that twinkled even when she wasn't smiling. In his painting he had caught the very essence of that smile, and more, he had caught her spirit, strong and brave. 'Amy…' He relished the sound of her name. 'If only things had been different…if Sylvia and her lover had made a life together, you and I might have had a chance to get to know each other.' But things were not 'different', and they never could be.
Through the open window, he viewed the galaxy of stars and was mesmerised by their sparkling beauty. 'I wonder if she's looking at these same stars?' It was a curiously comforting idea that they could be sharing this view. Luke thought of his cabin in Bowland Forest, nestling in the shadows of the fells. The sky there would be darkest black, not faded by the reflection of any streetlamps, and the stars would be piercingly bright in contrast. How he longed to share that night sky with Amy—the lovely, laughing, spirited girl, not an oil painting. Seeing her on Tuesdays at Tooley's Cafe, then escaping to the peace of the cabin, he saw her as inextricably part of his private world. If only she could make the journey to the cabin too. Somehow, this would be so
right
.
With thoughts of Amy came a warm feeling, and then tiredness began to swamp his consciousness. After a time he closed his eyes and drifted into a deep sleep.
He did not hear the door open, nor did he hear the soft tread of footsteps as they came across the carpet to his bed. When she leaned over him, he had no idea she was there. Even as she climbed into bed beside him, he did not feel her presence.
In his sleep he began to dream, and the dream was of Amy. One minute she was in the painting and the next she was stepping out, into his arms, the soft touch of her hand on his body making him tremble.
Beside him, Sylvia gently stroked her hand over him; touching the curve of his chest, savouring the feel of those strong vibrant muscles beneath her fingertips. Now she was reaching down, slipping her hand into the dip of his groin. When he seemed to respond, she pressed herself close to him.
'Love me,' she whispered, and as he turned to draw her closer, she gave herself up to him.
Greatly aroused he lay along her length, his member standing tall as he prepared to enter her. 'I knew you'd find me…' His voice softly caressing her, he slid his hands beneath her buttocks, tenderly arching her into him. 'You're lovely,' he kissed her neck, her ears, savouring the taste of her skin on his tongue, '…so lovely…" He wanted her with every fibre of his being.
In that moment she began screaming, shocking him awake. 'LEAVE ME ALONE! GET OFF ME!' As he rolled away, she leaped on him, her fists pummelling his chest and face. 'GET AWAY FROM ME, YOU BASTARD!'
There was no let-up, and he, reeling under the blows, could not seem to hold her off until, with one mighty effort he took hold of her arms and, swinging her away, rolled off the bed.
'SYLVIA!' Somewhere between dream and consciousness he had imagined it was Amy in his arms. 'What are you doing here?'
Suddenly she was like a child, desperately clinging to him. 'Don't punish me,' she sobbed. 'It wasn't me…I didn't do it.' Her fear was so real, he could almost taste it.
'I would never punish you. Be still. Ssh!' As he reached out to comfort her she drew away like some frightened animal to cower against the pillow.
'Where's Edna?' she said, her wide scared eyes scouring the room. 'Please…I want Edna.'
Trembling inside, his senses scrambled, he swiftly assessed the situation. It was clear she had wandered in here, looking for comfort…maybe even looking for love. After all, it wasn't all that long ago they had been man and wife in every sense.
Turning on the bedside lamp he grabbed his robe from the back of the chair and, slinging it on, tied it tight around the front. 'It's all right, sweetheart…' Holding out his hand he gave a sigh of relief when she took hold of it.
Sliding off the bed, she asked meekly, 'Will you get Edna for me?'
'In the morning,' he promised.I'll fetch Edna in the morning.' He lifted her gently into bed and covered her over. 'You'd best stay here tonight,' he said. 'I won't be far away.'
'You won't leave me, will you?'
'No, I won't leave you.'
He stayed by her as promised, moving his armchair beside the bed, while she lay, quiet now, slipping gently into a calming sleep. 'It's all right,' he said as she twice opened her eyes. 'I'm here.'
Soon she was sound asleep. 'Oh, dear God, Sylvia, what's happened to you…to
us?'
He looked on that beautiful face, and his heart went out to her. To his mind there was no point in apportioning blame; it had all gone far beyond that.
He thought of Amy again, and his mouth twisted in a smile.
Amy was his dream and Sylvia was his reality.
He was still thinking of Amy when the soothing waves of sleep overwhelmed him.
In the morning, while Sylvia was sleeping soundly, he got quickly dressed and summoned Edna on the telephone he'd had installed at her home.
'You can't go on like this,' Edna chided. 'Just look at the state of you! You look terrible—dark rims under your eyes and a haggard look about you that tells the world you've not slept a full night in goodness knows how long.'
'I'll be fine,' Luke protested. 'A bath and a good breakfast, and I'll be good as new.' Though having slept in the chair all night had not helped his poor bones, which ached in every direction.
Edna threw aside his protests. 'How in God's name d'you think you can run a factory without a good night's sleep, tell me that?'
'I do all right,' he answered. 'There's no need for you to worry on that score.'
'Oh, aye! You might well "do all right", as you say, but for how long, eh? How long will it be afore you fall ill, or your brain won't function because it's half asleep? What then, eh?'
'Stop nagging me, woman!' he groaned, but fondly. 'I'm fit as a fiddle, and my brain's as sharp as a tack. The factory will be fine and so will I.'
'I've a suggestion to make,' she persisted. 'Let me move in.'
Taken aback he wanted to know, 'And what would poor Harry think about that?'
'He'd welcome it; says my snoring keeps him awake at night.'
Luke chuckled. 'So, you want to come here and keep
me
awake, is that it? I'm grateful to you,' he said, 'but there's really no need.' It seemed too extreme a measure.
Edna nodded. 'All right, if you're sure. But will you promise me…you'll ask me to stay if you're ever worried, or if she's disturbed your sleep too often?'
'She hardly ever disturbs my sleep, as you know, Edna. Once Sylvia goes to her bed, she usually sleeps soundly enough.'
'Not lately she hasn't.'
'She's going through a bad patch right now,' Luke said. 'I'm sure she'll settle down.' In fact things seemed to be getting worse, but he didn't want to worry Edna unduly.
'So, will you promise?'
He gave her a kiss on the cheek. 'You're a bossy devil and no mistake,' he said. 'And, yes, I promise, if I find I can't manage, we'll talk about you staying over. Now, is it all right with you if I go and get my bath? I don't want to be late this morning. We've a big delivery to get out to a new customer. It's a huge order and could lead to more business, so I'd like to oversee it personally.'
Edna was satisfied. 'You get yersel' ready,' she told him. 'Mrs Hammond's still sleeping soundly, so I'll start your breakfast. It'll be on the table when you come down.'
'What would I do without you?' he asked, and she replied, 'I've no doubt you'd manage. Meanwhile, shift yerself or you'll be late.'
As he went up the stairs he called out wryly, 'Sometimes I wonder who's the boss in this house, you or me!'
'It's
me,'
she called back, 'and just you remember that!'
Luke went into the bathroom, chuckling. 'Edna, you're a gem, what are you?'
She didn't hear him. She was too busy throwing the bacon into the pan; followed by a handful of sliced tomatoes and a couple of mushrooms.
Pretty soon the delicious aroma of bacon cooking filled the house. 'Yer may be short on sleep,' Edna chunnered to herself, 'but while I'm about, you can be sure of a good breakfast afore you leave this house. A man in your situation needs feeding up. Haunted at home, haunted at work…By, it's a wonder you're not stark-staring mad!'
'I hate Monday mornings!' Roy always started the day shivering, whatever the weather. 'Jesus! It's bloody freezing in here!' Having taken off his jacket he soon put it back on again. 'It's colder in here than it is outside.'
Jack looked at his mate, a small, shivering wreck. 'You could do with more fat on your bones,' he said. 'The sun's shining and it looks like another glorious day, and here's you shivering like a jelly. If you're that cold, run up and down for a minute or two,' he added with a grin.
Roy wouldn't have it. 'The boiler can't be on,' he argued through chattering teeth.
'Come here!' Like a mother-cat with a kitten, Jack got the little fella by the scruff of the neck and marched him to the wall. Pointing to the large, round meter attached to an army of pipes, he said, 'There y'are. Up and working and warming the place as we speak. Leave your coat on, give it half an hour, and you'll be warm as toast.'
Jack was right. Half an hour later the large open area was heated to the right temperature. The men were at work and Roy had taken off his coat and was looking much more comfortable.
From his vantage- point at the top of the stairs, Jack oversaw the workforce. To his left, the men were waiting by the lorries and to his right, the rows of machine-hands, producing the many different brushes to be quickly stacked, were ready for inspection.
Deciding to take another look at the production line, he went down the stairs and across the loading bay, to where Amy's father, Dave, along with two other drivers were waiting for the word.
'Ready when you are, Jack.' That was Dave. 'We're all back from the station run, and now we're waiting on the brush delivery. The wagons are swept out and clean. All we need are the loads on, then we'll be away.'
'You did well getting the distribution orders out on time,' Jack acknowledged. 'I know Mr Hammond appreciates you all turning in extra early to get it done.'
'So long as the appreciation shows up in us wage packets, that's all right,' Bert, Dave's friend, who was a loader, laughed.
'So, how long d'you think it might be afore we can be away with this new brush order?' Dave asked.
'Not too long,'Jack promised. 'Mr Hammond will be here shortly. As soon as he approves the quality, we'll have them packed and loaded.'