said.
She cast a sideward glance at him. ‘There’s been the odd one or two who’ve been interested.’ A twinge of jealousy jabbed Patrick.
Don’t be a fool, why wouldn’t a pretty girl like Josie have young men queuing up to wed her. And none of them barge captains, that’s for sure.
‘I must visit Mattie. In fact I must come and see everyone, and very soon,’ Josie told him, her eyes sparkling with excitement. ‘Would your mother mind, if I called one afternoon?’
‘I’m sure she’d be right happy to see you,’ he replied, wondering what she would think of their home now. Even though she and her mother had lived two streets down from them, in one of the poorest cottages in the area when he and Josie were young, that was a long time ago.
Josie’s gaze ran over him slowly as her bright smile returned. ‘I can’t believe you’re here, and praise the saints you’re not dead, but Patrick, where have you been all these years?’
In that instant, he saw Josie - his Josie whom he had walked home from school and kissed inexpertly behind the gravestone in St George’s churchyard - and for a second the urge to kiss her, as he had done so many times before, surged up in Patrick. She was the same Josie he’d wanted for his wife.
Wife! Rosa!
‘It’s a long story,’ he replied flatly.
A hansom cab rolled around the corner, its iron-rimmed wheels grinding over the cobbles after its blinkered horse trotting down the street. The children by the kerb, searching for discarded vegetables for their supper, jumped out of the way as the conveyance screeched to a stop. While the driver quietened the horse, a lad, with a look of utter relief on his beardless face, jumped down.
‘Thank goodness you’ve come to no harm, Miss O’Casey,’ he said.
‘I’m fine, Sam,’ Josie said, glancing up at Patrick again.
The young man opened the cab door. Patrick helped her into the carriage. Despite her glove, his shirt and the jacket fabric, he felt her hand as if it were on his bare forearm.
Josie turned. ‘Oh, Patrick, I am so pleased you are alive.’
Patrick swallowed but didn’t answer. Josie stepped in; Sam closed the door and jumped up next to the driver.
Josie pulled down the window. ‘Tell your ma and Mattie I’ll call soon.’
Annie and Mickey! Alarm shot through Patrick and he grabbed hold of the cab’s brass door handle. ‘Will you send word when you’re going to visit? I don’t want to come home and find that I’ve missed you.’
How was he going to tell her about Rosa?
Josie’s eyes flashed, sending a bolt of the old excitement through him. The cab lurched forward. ‘I’ll send Sam to let you know when to expect me,’ she answered, and then she gave him a sideward glance from under her lashes. ‘And when I do, I want to hear that long story.’
Chapter Four
Josie repositioned the flannel over her eyes as the large clock in the hall downstairs chimed seven. She could hardly remember the journey home in the hansom because, the moment the carriage jolted forward, a hundred jumbled thoughts had sprung to mind. By the time they’d reached the front door she had a blinding headache and, after murmuring apologies to her mother, she had dashed upstairs. Since then, she’d lain on her bed with her head swimming and a red zigzag line dancing at the edge of her vision. She must have slept, for when she opened her eyes the pain had gone, though her troubled thoughts remained.
Well, two troubled thoughts, really. Where had Patrick been for seven years and why hadn’t he come back to her? During the drive home her euphoria at finding him alive had given way to bewilderment. Of course, she told herself, there had to be some perfectly reasonable explanation. It could be any number of things. After all, sailors were often stranded on the other side of the world for months before securing a berth home . . . but seven
She cast a sideward glance at him. ‘There’s been the odd one or two who’ve been interested.’ A twinge of jealousy jabbed Patrick.
Don’t be a fool, why wouldn’t a pretty girl like Josie have young men queuing up to wed her. And none of them barge captains, that’s for sure.
‘I must visit Mattie. In fact I must come and see everyone, and very soon,’ Josie told him, her eyes sparkling with excitement. ‘Would your mother mind, if I called one afternoon?’
‘I’m sure she’d be right happy to see you,’ he replied, wondering what she would think of their home now. Even though she and her mother had lived two streets down from them, in one of the poorest cottages in the area when he and Josie were young, that was a long time ago.
Josie’s gaze ran over him slowly as her bright smile returned. ‘I can’t believe you’re here, and praise the saints you’re not dead, but Patrick, where have you been all these years?’
In that instant, he saw Josie - his Josie whom he had walked home from school and kissed inexpertly behind the gravestone in St George’s churchyard - and for a second the urge to kiss her, as he had done so many times before, surged up in Patrick. She was the same Josie he’d wanted for his wife.
Wife! Rosa!
‘It’s a long story,’ he replied flatly.
A hansom cab rolled around the corner, its iron-rimmed wheels grinding over the cobbles after its blinkered horse trotting down the street. The children by the kerb, searching for discarded vegetables for their supper, jumped out of the way as the conveyance screeched to a stop. While the driver quietened the horse, a lad, with a look of utter relief on his beardless face, jumped down.
‘Thank goodness you’ve come to no harm, Miss O’Casey,’ he said.
‘I’m fine, Sam,’ Josie said, glancing up at Patrick again.
The young man opened the cab door. Patrick helped her into the carriage. Despite her glove, his shirt and the jacket fabric, he felt her hand as if it were on his bare forearm.
Josie turned. ‘Oh, Patrick, I am so pleased you are alive.’
Patrick swallowed but didn’t answer. Josie stepped in; Sam closed the door and jumped up next to the driver.
Josie pulled down the window. ‘Tell your ma and Mattie I’ll call soon.’
Annie and Mickey! Alarm shot through Patrick and he grabbed hold of the cab’s brass door handle. ‘Will you send word when you’re going to visit? I don’t want to come home and find that I’ve missed you.’
How was he going to tell her about Rosa?
Josie’s eyes flashed, sending a bolt of the old excitement through him. The cab lurched forward. ‘I’ll send Sam to let you know when to expect me,’ she answered, and then she gave him a sideward glance from under her lashes. ‘And when I do, I want to hear that long story.’
Chapter Four
Josie repositioned the flannel over her eyes as the large clock in the hall downstairs chimed seven. She could hardly remember the journey home in the hansom because, the moment the carriage jolted forward, a hundred jumbled thoughts had sprung to mind. By the time they’d reached the front door she had a blinding headache and, after murmuring apologies to her mother, she had dashed upstairs. Since then, she’d lain on her bed with her head swimming and a red zigzag line dancing at the edge of her vision. She must have slept, for when she opened her eyes the pain had gone, though her troubled thoughts remained.
Well, two troubled thoughts, really. Where had Patrick been for seven years and why hadn’t he come back to her? During the drive home her euphoria at finding him alive had given way to bewilderment. Of course, she told herself, there had to be some perfectly reasonable explanation. It could be any number of things. After all, sailors were often stranded on the other side of the world for months before securing a berth home . . . but seven
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