It Had To Be You by June Francis Page A

woman had called it her ‘Joseph’ shawl because Emma had used up oddments of leftover wool to crochet the garment. She had kept it for sentimental reasons and because it really was warm.
    She made a pot of tea and let the cat back into the kitchen. There was no fresh milk but fortunately she found a tin of condensed milk in the larder. Her granddad had been partial to it spread on bread, and Emma remembered her grandmother making coconut ice for the church fete. She was hungry and fancied some coconut ice but had to make do with a slice of stale bread toasted and spread with homemade blackberry jam.
    She poured herself a cup of tea and stretched out on the sofa. Instantly Tibby jumped on her lap. Emma was glad of her company. She had calmed down now but she could not forget what Mrs Ashcroft had said about her parents’ marriage or of her seizing hold of the first presentable man. She thought of Constable Marshall and felt a warm glow.
    Then she frowned. For all she knew he could already have a serious girlfriend. He could even be married, although she doubted that young married men went round giving girls rides on the crossbar of their bikes. What would it feel like to be kissed by him? She imagined the feel of his mouth on hers andrecalled the strength in his arms. Then she thought of all the jobs that needed doing in her cottage and how handy it would be to have a man about the place. How practical was her Liverpool policeman?
    She pulled herself together. What was she thinking? She must stop such thoughts right away. It was Mrs Ashcroft’s fault for putting romantic ideas into her head. She found herself wondering if Mr Ashcroft had been the first man to propose marriage to Lila’s mother when she was no longer a spring chicken, and she had accepted him because she was on the shelf. Or perhaps they had been in love and blissfully happy once upon a time, but the war had destroyed that happiness? She thought about what Mrs Ashcroft had said about her parents and her mother coming back home with her. What could have gone wrong with their marriage? How long had they been married before Emma was born? Where exactly had they tied the knot? Emma would like to visit the church or the registry office where they were married. No doubt, somewhere in Liverpool, there would be a record of the marriage and her birth.
    Emma knew she had to visit the city again but right now she must find more work and so needed to place an advertisement in the Clitheroe Advertiser and Times . Reluctant as she was to go out in the cold again, she must write a piece out today and post it, as well as do some shopping.
    * * *
    Emma was frying potato scallops that evening when she heard a rat-a-tat on the back door. ‘It’s not locked,’ she called.
    Lila opened the door and stepped inside. Her expression was a mixture of concern and excitement. ‘Are you all right? Mam said you’d hurt your ankle and spent the night in a police cell. What on earth happened?’
    Emma chuckled. ‘I tripped over in the fog, but fortunately this gorgeous policeman came to my rescue.’
    Lila’s eyes widened. ‘Gosh. What was he like? Tall, dark, handsome …?’
    An imp of devilry seized Emma. ‘Very tall. He made me feel like a shrimp. Especially when he swept me off my feet and carried me to the nearest shop,’ she said, her eyes sparkling. No doubt this information would find its way back to Mrs Ashcroft.
    ‘You’re pulling my leg,’ said Lila.
    ‘It’s the gospel truth!’ Emma was beginning to enjoy herself. ‘He even gave me a ride on his bike. I sat on the crossbar and I had to hang on to him very tightly in case I fell off. He was really strong. I’d never experienced anything like it. We could only see a few feet in front of us. It was thrilling, frightening and exciting all at the same time.’
    ‘How old is he?’
    ‘I’d say only a few years older than us.’
    Lila sighed. ‘Gosh, I wish we had a bobby like him around here.’
    ‘It would