Josephine Cox - Live the Dream

Opening the door, he offered, ‘I’ll have a word with Edna … see if she wouldn’t mind me running you home.’

But Georgina would not hear of it. ‘No. I’ll get a cab. I’d prefer that.’

‘All right,’ Luke conceded, ‘if that’s what you want.’

Going to the hallstand, he took down two coats: a long dark, woollen coat with belt and deep pockets, and a black astrakhan three-quarter one with black bone buttons and fur collar.

First helping her on with the astrakhan, he then shrugged on his own coat. ‘I’ll walk you to the bottom of the street. We’ll flag down a cab there.’

It was a matter of only five minutes or less, before a cab pulled over. ‘Mind you go straight indoors once you get home.’

‘It’s all right,’ she answered with the sweetest of smiles, ‘I know how to look after myself.’

Helping her into her seat, he kissed her dutifully on the cheek. ‘Good night, Georgina.’

Before settling back into her seat, she clung to him a moment longer than he was comfortable with. ‘Good night, Georgina!’ Taking her by the shoulders he gently but firmly pushed her away and closed the door. ‘Eighteen, Park Street.’ He thrust a handful of coins into the driver’s hand. ‘There’s a bit extra there,’ he pointed out. ‘Mind you wait until she’s safely inside.’

A smile from her, a wave and she was gone.

Somewhat dejected, Luke made his way back to the house. ‘I’ll never understand it,’ he muttered. ‘How could two sisters be so different?’

But then he reminded himself of how Sylvia had been having an affair with Arnold Stratton, before they found her beaten and battered in the alley.

It had been the worst shock of all, and even now Luke found it hard to believe that she had deceived him with another man. He had adored Sylvia since the first day they met; with every fibre in his body. Without question or reservation. Time and again, she had told him how she never wanted or needed anyone else, and he believed her.

In the early years theirs had been the ideal romance, the meeting, the courtship, the sharing and growing together. Then the cracks had begun to show, with Sylvia’s waywardness and selfishness. She was bored; she didn’t want Luke to go to the factory; she wanted to travel … She started spending every evening out – with friends, but they were not friends he knew – and she was drinking a lot. Luke tolerated all this because he still had his dreams of their growing old together, with maybe a son who would one day take over the business from him. Then Sylvia met Arnold Stratton …

Luke still loved her now in spite of her cheating, but not in the way he had loved her before. Not with his heart and soul. Not blindly. But he had made his vows and he held her close to his heart. She was his wife, his responsibility and he would take care of her until the end of her days … or the end of his! Whichever came first.

His thoughts returned briefly to Amy as he had seen her that evening – young, care-free, laughing in the street. She was his dream, but Sylvia was his reality.

The portly cab driver was a chatty sort. ‘I’ll soon have you home, miss,’ he assured Georgina proudly, ‘safe and sound, just like the good man wanted.’

Deep in thoughts of a devious kind, Georgina didn’t hear him.

‘Decent fella … seems concerned to keep you from harm,’ the cabbie went on. ‘Your intended, is he?’

Coming out of her reverie with her mind made up, Georgina didn’t catch his last remark. ‘What’s that you say?’

Half-turning his head, the cabbie apologised. ‘Sorry if I offended you. I were only asking if the fella was your intended?’

Georgina smiled. ‘Not officially,’ she answered coyly, ‘I mean, he doesn’t know it yet, but I intend for us to be man and wife one day.’

The cabbie laughed out loud. ‘You women!’ he chuckled. ‘Once you get your claws into us men, we’ve got no chance at all.’

He was only minutes from Park Street when she instructed, ‘Turn down the next street left.’

Confused, he advised her, ‘But that’s Johnson Street. I were told you wanted Park Street.’

‘Well, now I want Johnson Street!’ she snapped. ‘Keep moving until I tell you when to stop.’

Swinging the vehicle into Johnson Street, the cabbie was guided by the streetlamps. ‘What number?’ He peered at the door: ‘This is fifteen … seventeen …’ As instructed, he moved slowly on.

‘Here!’ Perched on the edge of her seat and ready to open the door, she screeched at him, ‘STOP HERE!’

Made to halt in a dark, shadowy spot between two streetlamps, he wondered what she was up to. ‘Do you want me to wait?’ he asked as she climbed from the cab.

‘Well, of course I want you to wait,’ she replied impatiently. ‘The trams have stopped running and I certainly don’t intend walking home in the dark.’

He nodded. ‘How long will you be?’

‘I don’t know,’ she snapped. ‘Anyway, what does it matter to you?’

‘Well, if it’s only a few minutes it’ll make no difference. But if it’s gonna be some time, then I might have to charge you a bit more.’

Georgina rounded on him. ‘You’ll do no such thing!’ she told him. ‘I saw the handful of coins he gave you, and it was more than enough. You’re getting no more – not even if I’m in there till morning!’

‘I see.’ He had taken a real dislike to her. ‘And are you likely to be in there “till morning”?’

‘Well, now …’ giving a sly little wink, she leaned towards him, ‘… we’ll just have to wait and see, won’t we?’ With that she sauntered off, glancing up at the house numbers as she went.

Curious, he watched as she knocked on a door. Smartly groomed and dressed in expensive clothes, she was quite an eye-opener, he thought. But it didn’t always follow that what looked good on the outside was good on the inside.

A naturally wary man, he decided that when she came back out, he would take her home quick as he could, and never a word of conversation between them.

Cabbies should keep their traps shut and just do their job, he decided, or who knew what trouble they might find themselves in.

After a few moments the door opened. Casting a glance up and down the street, she hurried inside.

The cab driver also glanced up and down the street. ‘It’s a far cry from Park Street,’ he muttered thoughtfully.

A long meandering street on a deep slope towards the town, Johnson Street was typical of the roads in those parts. It was the kind of ordinary, serviceable place where folks like himself lived out their days – hard-working, God-fearing folks who worked long, back-breaking hours in the cotton-mills or the nearby factories.

One thing was certain: it was nothing like the beautifully kept, wide open streets, with their big posh houses, that ran up alongside the park. Those were reserved for wealthy folk – employers, bank managers, that kind of contented, fortunate soul.

He settled himself into the seat, closed his eyes and yawned. ‘One thing’s for sure, she’s up to no good.’ He thought about the man who had paid for her cab. ‘Some women don’t know when they’re well off!’ he muttered. ‘That fella seemed a decent sort, but if he’s not careful, he’ll find himself hooked up to a bad lot, an’ no mistake!’

Georgina followed the man into the sitting room.

‘I didn’t expect you tonight, Helen. What you doing ’ere at this late hour anyway?’ A rough-looking fellow, but well-endowed, clad only in underpants he made a fetching sight to her eager eyes.

‘Aren’t you pleased to see me?’ A flush of disappointment coloured her face, but she pouted seductively and slowly slipped her coat off, her eyes full of suggestion.