A Glimpse at Happiness by Jean Fullerton Page A

years!
     
    She was truly thankful that he was alive, and quite willing to accept that circumstance had kept him from returning to her, but she felt that the least she was entitled to expect would be a proper explanation of where he had been for all this time.
     
    There was a faint knock on the door and, before she could answer, it creaked open to allow Ellen in.
     
    ‘Are you any better, my love?’ she asked.
     
    ‘A little,’ Josie replied. Ellen sat on the side of the bed and placed her cool hand on Josie’s forehead. ‘You don’t seem feverish, ’ she said, brushing a stray lock out of her daughter’s eyes. ‘I am supposed to be the one with headaches, not you. What’s wrong?’
     
    ‘I saw Patrick,’ Josie said, the words catching in her throat.
     
    Ellen patted her hand. ‘I know how difficult it is for you coming back after all this time. Only you and I know the painful old memories this place conjures up. I can’t help thinking of your gran, and how we used to scrub our knuckles raw in the washtub just to pay the rent, never mind putting food on the table. I understand how it must be affecting you because only yesterday, I thought I saw—’
     
    ‘No, Mam. I don’t think I saw Patrick, I did see him. I met him in the street and spoke to him.’ She spoke with a sob in her voice, which made her angry at herself.
     
    Startled, Ellen put her hand to her chest. ‘Patrick’s alive?’
     
    Josie nodded as a lump formed in her throat.
     
    ‘Oh, my poor darling . . . what did you say to him?
     
    Josie recounted the conversation.
     
    ‘But if he’s been alive all this time, why didn’t he come back, I wonder,’ Ellen said. ‘And for the love of Mary, where has he been?’
     
    ‘Apparently, he sent a letter to New York to explain everything, but we had already moved to Boston.’
     
    ‘What did it say?’ Ellen asked.
     
    ‘I don’t know,’ Josie replied, taking a deep breath to stop the wavy lines in her vision from returning.
     
    Ellen pressed her lips together. ‘I would have thought “where have you been for seven years, Patrick Nolan”, would have been the first words out of your mouth.’
     
    Josie’s head started to throb again. ‘They were, but he said it was a long story. Frankly, Mam, we were standing in the middle of Wapping High Street and all that was going through my head was that Patrick wasn’t rotting at the bottom of the sea.’ An image of Patrick swam into Josie’s mind as she remembered the sensation of his eyes on her. ‘I only just managed to ask about his family and what he was doing.’ She sat herself up on one elbow. ‘When he turned around and looked at me I was so shocked I couldn’t think straight . . . I just babbled on.’
     
    A faint smile crossed Ellen’s face. ‘I can understand why. What did he tell you about his family?’
     
    Josie recounted the Nolan family news, and then a smile lifted the corners of her mouth. ‘He looked just the same, you know. Tall as a tree and just as solid, but broader than I recall. That old scar on his chin has faded but he has a new one on his right cheek and he still has grand curly hair. He’s still Patrick.’ She caught her mother’s sharp look. ‘As I said, I was shocked, so it was only on the way home I started to think clearly about everything.’
     
    Ellen sighed. ‘I don’t suppose it matters very much, after all this time. It was so long ago and you were both so young.’ She patted Josie’s hand. ‘Now: you know I’ll always have a soft spot for Patrick for the way he saved our lives. If it wasn’t for his quick actions on the night Danny Donavan tried to murder me, both of us would have long been in our graves. But perhaps him not coming back was for the best. You’re in a different position now, Josie, what with Robert’s new post at the hospital and everything.’
     
    Josie nodded. ‘I may be, but I’m still the Josie who was best friends with Mattie. I’m going to visit