after her daddy went away, and the arrival of her mother’s brother, Clem Jackson. She spoke of the way their lives had changed with the death of her granny, and her stillborn brother, and how she prayed every day that Clem would go away and they might find some peace from him.
There were many entries about John, and how they enjoyed each other’s company. I like him a lot, she had written. I think he likes me too. Girlish things. Simple and lovely. But there was little here to fire Jackson’s imagination.
Until he came across the latest entry.
‘By! This is a real eye-opener an’ no mistake!’ he declared, the slaver dripping from his mouth as he read aloud to himself:
‘Last night, John and I held each other. It was so good. He told me he loved me, and I said I felt the same way. Something wonderful happened then. He kissed me, not like a friend, but like a lover. I knew that he wanted more, and so did I. But I was afraid, yet oh so excited. I had such powerful feelings, I couldn’t stop trembling.
He touched my breast … it was a strange and beautiful feeling and I didn’t want him to stop. But he did, and when I asked him why, he said he didn’t know, except we shouldn’t go so far. At least not yet. He didn’t want to spoil me, or hurt me. He thought it was best if we courted for a while, and then we would both see how we felt.
I know he was right. In fact, I felt ashamed at my own part in it, because I must have led him on. It’s just that I do love him so. I know that now. Even if it takes years, it’s John I want.
If Uncle Clem knew we had been so forward, he would go mad. I know he would put all the blame on John, but I was as bad. Nothing happened though. John stopped it before we got carried away, and in a way I’m glad he did.
Clem says John is only after what he can get and that he has no respect for me. But now I know he’s wrong, and besides, I don’t care what my uncle says. He will never stop me from loving John. He makes me feel different – alive – like I’ve never felt before.
When he held me close last night, when he touched me, it made me shiver inside. We’ll do like he says, though. We’ll court for a while, then one day we’ll marry, and I’ll be his wife. John, and his children: that’s all I want, and I’ll be happy for ever.’
Lizzie was the first to see Emily running towards the cottage. ‘The lass is here!’ she called up to John, who was in his bedroom pacing the floor, deep in thought. ‘Best get yersel’ downstairs.’
When a moment later he emerged to see Emily coming down the lane, his first impulse was to go to her, but Lizzie reached out to restrain him.
‘Listen to me, son,’ she persuaded softly. ‘When my brother Petey was lost in the mine disaster, getting on for fifteen year ago now, and your mammy pined herself away soon after, you and me had nobody else but each other. I promised my sister-in-law I’d do my best to raise you as she and Petey would have done. I’ve loved you and cared for you, and you’ve been like my own son, and I thank God for every minute.’
‘I know that,’ he answered, and hugged her. ‘You’ve been like a mother to me, and I’ll always be grateful for that. But this time you can’t help me. I’m a man now, Auntie, and this is something I have to deal with myself.’
Though Emily was opening the garden gate by now, and he was aching to go to her, the urgency in his aunt’s voice made him pause.
‘In all these years I’ve never asked you to do anything against your nature,’ she said. ‘But I’m asking you now, and you have to listen, son … for your own good, and for the good o’ that dear lass.’
Tears filled her eyes. ‘Let things happen gradual between the two of youse. Don’t be too hasty and do something you’ll regret. You’re both so young – you’ve got all the time in the world.’
‘Don’t worry.’ Gently gripping her plump shoulders, he said, ‘Trust me. You know I’ll do what’s right by her.’
As he went out to meet Emily, Lizzie watched them fold into each other’s arms, and her heart sank. ‘By! It’s a bad bugger who’s took over Potts End,’ she murmured. ‘I don’t know what’ll become of the two of youse, but he’ll not let you have any peace, I’m sure o’ that!’
Her sorry gaze followed the couple as they walked away, towards the fells, where the canal rose and dipped through the lock-gates, and the skylarks sang their cheery song overhead.
It’s a lonely old world for such as me, Lizzie sighed. She recalled her own young love many years ago, and the rush of nostalgia brought a smarting of tears to her pretty green eyes.
Down by the canal, Emily chided John for having gone to see Clem. ‘If you’d told me what you meant to do, I’d never have let you go,’ she said. She was horrified by John’s injuries.
Drawing her down to sit next to him on the bank, John slid his arm about her shoulders. ‘I just wanted for you and me to have our courtship put out in the open,’ he explained. ‘I didn’t want us hiding round corners and being afraid at every footstep.’
She looked up, an appreciative smile on her face. ‘I know,’ she said, ‘but you can’t reason with a man like that.’
He studied her now; those intense nutmeg-brown eyes and that innocent smile. Today, her hair was free from its plaits and tumbled silkily onto her shoulders. His heart turned somersaults. ‘Emily?’
She looked up. ‘Yes?’
‘There’s something I have to tell you.’
Sitting round she looked him full in the face. ‘You’d best tell me then.’
Shifting uncomfortably he began, ‘Do you want us to get married one day?’
Her eyes opened with astonishment. ‘You know I do!’
‘That’s what I want too, sweetheart.’ Cupping her pretty face in the palms of his hands he studied her every feature. ‘Look, I’ve been thinking – about you and me, and our future. When we do get married, I want us to have the best wedding, one we’ll remember for the rest of our lives.’
‘That’s not important.’ Putting her finger to his poor split lips, she told him, ‘All I want is to be your wife. All the fancy trimmings won’t make any difference.’
‘I know that. But there are other things that do matter. I need to make you a home, and give you nice things, and later when we have children, we won’t want them to go without. You know what I’m saying, don’t you, sweetheart?’
‘I’m not sure.’ She shook her head, the beginnings of doubt creeping into her heart.
‘The truth is,’ he went on, ‘I have no savings, and precious few prospects.’
‘No! You have your work – every wagon round these parts has been either repaired by you, or built from scratch. You’re well respected hereabouts. Folk always call on you whenever they need a roof fixed, or other jobs done. There’s all sorts you turn your hand to.’
‘I won’t deny that, but it still makes me just a handyman. That won’t build us a house, or provide enough to give our children
