can call me Ben.’ Though he had impulsively invited Amy and the boy to his sanctuary, he wasn’t yet ready to let his name be known. ‘I’m quite amiable, and I really do make the best cup of tea in Lancashire. Moreover, I’ll have you both back here so you’ll still have time to do your shopping and see your friend Daisy. But, it’s up to you. If you agree to come along, that would be wonderful. If you refuse, I would understand, and there would be no hard feelings.’
‘Are you sure it would be all right for me and Johnny to come to your cabin?’ Amy asked worriedly. ‘What would people say?’ She was thinking of Jack and Daisy in particular.
‘None of their business,’ he answered firmly. ‘Besides, you and the boy are the only two who know about my hideaway, and I would ask that you don’t divulge it to anyone.’
Amy readily agreed to that. ‘As you say, it’s none of their business. In any case, from what you say, I expect we should consider ourselves highly honoured. Should we?’
When she softly laughed he laughed with her. ‘You most certainly should!’ he declared. ‘And when you see my humble cabin, I hope you’ll give me your honest opinion.’
His laughter felt companionable to her and, warming to him by the minute, she conceded, ‘All right! Me and little Johnny would be happy to come with you, as long as you get us back here within two hours.’
‘Agreed.’ His whole face lit up and Amy knew he was genuinely delighted. Gesturing towards the perimeter of the marketplace he told them grandly, ‘Your chariot awaits.’
As they climbed into the car, Johnny was excited, and Amy was amazed at such luxury: smooth carpet and red leather seats, and even a soft blue rug to cover their knees. She’d already begun to realise that Luke was not in any way an ordinary working man, despite his workaday clothes. His voice was a bit posher than her father’s or Jack’s, and his hands were smooth, with neat nails.
‘This is a lovely vehicle,’ she said. Making sure Johnny was comfortable in the back, she climbed in beside him and wrapped the rug round them both. ‘Sit tight, sweetheart,’ she told him, ‘and don’t touch anything.’ She had frightening visions of him opening the door and falling out.
‘Ready, are you?’ Disappointed that she had preferred not to sit in the front with him, Luke switched on the engine and slipped into gear. A gentle touch on the accelerator and they were away down the street.
When, a short time later, they began passing familiar sights to leave Blackburn behind, Amy couldn’t help but feel excited. The industrial outskirts of the town grew less dense, the streets were wider and already the air was cleaner.
As if concerned that she might be uneasy, Luke slightly turned his head to ask, ‘You’re very quiet back there. You’re not sorry you accepted my invitation, are you?’
‘No, course not!’ Amy was quick to reassure him, ‘I’m just wondering how far it is now, that’s all?’
The gloomy, overcast day was quickly sliding into a kind of twilight. A moment ago they had turned off into a country lane; unlit and eerie, it made her nervous, though Johnny appeared to be loving every minute of the ride, with his nose stuck to the window, while giving her a detailed account of everything he could see.
‘There’s lots of water,’ he told her now, when they were speeding along through the countryside. ‘And stones and trees, and everything.’ He laughed with excitement. ‘I’d like to play down there.’
‘That’s the brook,’ Luke enlightened him. ‘It means we’re only half a mile from the cabin, but you’ll not be able to see very much from here on as the woodland thickens, so much so that the daylight is shut out in places.’
‘I don’t know if I like the sound of that,’ Amy said. ‘It must be gloomy in winter.’
‘I love it,’ he told her, ‘but you needn’t worry. I created a large clearing before I began to build. There’s plenty of sky and space immediately round the cabin.’
Amy was impressed. ‘You mean you built the cabin yourself?’
Luke smiled at her through the rear-view mirror. ‘Isn’t that what men do … build things?’
Amy gave a cynical little laugh. ‘Not the men I know.’
Intrigued and a little perturbed by her remark, he asked, ‘And how many men have you “known”?’
Amy explained. ‘None to speak of. There’s my father, who’s the loveliest man in the world. He can drive a wagon and sell snow to Eskimos, but I doubt if he could ever build a cabin. Then there’s the only other man who ever seriously meant anything to me, and he would tell you himself, he couldn’t even build a fire.’
Her mind went back to the days when she and Don were happily making plans to be man and wife, and all too soon those plans lay in ruins. ‘No. You’d never see the day when Don Carson would tackle building a cabin.’ Suddenly she wanted to talk about Don to this kind, gentle man who had invited her to share his private place. It was a way of finally exorcising Don from her life as a bad thing and turning him into a bit of a joke, a harmless, slightly foolish figure without the power to hurt her any longer.
One small memory made her chuckle. ‘He once put up some shelves in my parents’ shop. When it was finished, our mam put a few containers of biscuits up there and the whole lot fell down, taking half the wall with it.’
In a quieter, more serious voice, she revealed, ‘Me and Don were to be wed, but he backed out at the last minute.’
Not knowing what to say, Luke answered limply, ‘I’m sorry.’
‘No! It’s all right.’ Mortified at having confessed to something so private, Amy replied in a brighter voice. ‘Happen it was just as well. I’m not sure I’d like shelves and cupboards falling down round my ears.’
They laughed at that, and then fell silent.
Amy considered herself fortunate to have got over the trauma of what Don had done to her. She had learned to be philosophical about it. What was done was done, and there was no changing it now, even if she wanted to, which she didn’t. In some ways, she thought, she had had a lucky escape. She’d loved Don, yes, but she’d never quite been comfortable with him. It was as if she had felt he was holding something of himself back from her. And now, of course, she had her romance with Jack, who was open and honest as a man could be, and with whom she felt entirely comfortable – although not deeply in love.
Concentrating on skirting the many puddles in the lane, Luke reflected on what she had told him. He had no right to feel envious of this man Don Carson, but he did. In fact he thought the man was a fool for not going ahead with the marriage. To his mind, Amy was the loveliest person he’d ever met and, given half a chance, he would have been proud to take her as his wife. While Amy’s face was open and honest and readable, Sylvia could, even before her illness, be such hard work. She liked to manipulate and her motives were often unclear. She was intriguing, beautiful and never dull, but nor was she, increasingly since he’d married her, entirely comfortable to be with.
‘Well, here we are.’ Slowing the car to a crawl, Luke manoeuvred down the narrowing trackway, and the further he went, the further behind them seemed the daylight skies.
Above them, the isolated pockets of light flickered through
