Had someone hurt her badly? I’d tried to ask my mother about it once, but she had simply changed the subject. It was a part of the secret I had always known existed.
‘So what are you thinking now?’ Matthew’s question brought me out of my reverie.
‘Nothing much. When am I going to see you again?’
‘Not for a couple of weeks, Amy. I’ve got one of my big trips on again. The firm has a new customer from Manchester and they want me to set up the account.’
‘Couldn’t someone local do it?’
‘It’s important, Amy. If I do this right it may mean a chance for promotion.’
‘Yes, I know. You told me. It’s just that I shall miss you. I hate it when you go away.’
‘I shall miss you too,’ he said, and smiled as he pulled into the forecourt of what appeared to be a sixteenth-century inn. It was set back off the road amongst trees and had a pleasant, peaceful atmosphere, almost as if we had been whisked back in time. ‘I thought we would stop here for a drink and we might have a meal. I believe they do reasonable food here and it’s not too expensive.’
‘That would be nice.’ I leaned across to kiss him as he pulled on the handbrake, breathing in his fresh, clean smell. Matthew was wholesome and decent, and I loved him. ‘And I’m sorry if I was grumpy earlier. I do understand that we have to save. I’ll talk to Mum about going to work for Lainie. If I’m earning as well we can get things we want for the house that bit sooner.’
Matthew gave me an approving smile. ‘A year or so will soon go round,’ he promised. ‘Believe me, it’s even harder for me to wait than it is for you, love.’
I knew that it had sometimes been difficult for Matthew to call a halt when we had been kissing in the back seat of his car. We had reached the stage where I had allowed him to fondle my breasts, but Matthew himself had insisted that anything more was out for the moment.
‘If I touched you there …’ His breathing was heavy and he smiled in that self-mocking way that made me love him so much. ‘I don’t think I could stop myself going all the way, and we would end up having to get married. That’s the last thing we need, Amy – much as I want you.’
I didn’t want to have to get married either. For one thing it would hurt my parents, especially my father, and I wanted a special wedding with all the trimmings and lots of presents. In April, Lady Elizabeth Bowes-Lyon had married her duke, wearing a lovely gown, and I had already planned my own, which would be quite similar to the one she had chosen. So I hadn’t tried to persuade Matthew into something that we both knew was wrong.
‘We’ll wait,’ I said as he opened the car door for me to get out. I was hit by the smell of roses and stocks from the flowerbeds, and as we walked across the moss-covered flagstones towards the inn, I was conscious of the sun shining warmly down on us. ‘We’ll do things properly the way you want, Matt. As you said, it won’t be forever.’
‘I love you, Amy,’ Matthew said. ‘And one day I’m going to give you all the things you want.’
‘I know you will, but mostly I just want to be with you.’
I linked my arm through his, shivering slightly as we entered the cool of the inn, which smelled a little musty despite the copper bowls of dried rose petals that stood on an oak hutch just inside the door. It was foolish of me to be so impatient when I had so much.
I awoke with a start that night, shivering and slightly damp because I had been sweating. The room was in darkness and I was trembling as I reached for the switch, flooding the corners with electric light. I was so thankful that my father had had electricity installed when he did up the house. I was shaking too badly to have lit the paraffin lamps that most people in the lanes still used upstairs, though they had gas downstairs.
The dream had been so vivid this time, and it had changed. I was no longer a little girl but a woman. The man who had threatened me had had no face, but I knew exactly how his eyes would look – open and staring as if he were dead.
Getting out of bed, I pulled on my dressing gown and slippers. I would never rest unless I made myself a warm drink and waited for the dream to fade.
I was just making a mug of cocoa in the kitchen when my father came in, also dressed in pyjamas and a comfortable old robe.
‘Did I wake you?’
‘I wasn’t asleep. Some nights I don’t sleep much any more, then I come down and make myself a drink.’
I looked anxiously at him. He wasn’t ill, was he? ‘Have some of mine. I’ve made enough for two. In the lodgings I shared in Bournemouth there was always someone to share it.’
‘Are you missing that? I know there isn’t much for you to do here, Amy.’
‘I think I should get a job, Daddy.’
‘There’s no need for you to do that. Unless you want to?’
‘As you said, there isn’t much for me to do here.’
‘Your mother thought you might like to help with the flowers for her stalls sometimes, what with you being good at artistic things. She sells quite a few of her arrangements these days. People come from all over to buy them. She has made quite a reputation for herself. I’ve offered to set her up in a shop but Bridget has always liked market trading.’
‘Yes, I know.’ I smiled at him, feeling a warm affection for this man who loved us all so much. He was so very special. ‘I don’t mind helping while I’m here.’
‘You’re thinking of going somewhere?’
‘Lainie wants me to live and work with her. It’s just until I get married, and the money would help Matthew buy his house. It’s the sort of shop I would enjoy working in, Dad, with a good clientele, and I can work on my designs in the evenings sometimes. It would only be until Matthew can afford to get married.’
‘I’ve told you I shall give you both a good wedding present. Matthew could set himself up in the shop he wants now if he wasn’t so stubborn. I should count it a privilege to help that young man’
‘You know he won’t let you. He wants to do it by himself. He’s so independent!’
‘Can’t say I disagree with the idea, Amy. I started with nothing. It’s the right way to be, but if you are unhappy …’
‘I had the dream again.’ I paused to sip my drink. ‘It was the first time for ages. I think it’s being here in the lanes.’
My father looked worried, then annoyed. ‘It was Ernie Cole who frightened you, Amy. He was drunk and he shouted at you, but that’s all that happened. Besides, he’s dead now. He can’t hurt you or your mother any more.’
Ernie Cole had tried to attack my mother some months previously, but Kathy Ryan had stopped him. He’d turned on her then, beating her senseless, and she’d been in hospital for weeks. Thankfully she had recovered and now she was married to my uncle, Tom O’Rourke, and living in America. Ernie Cole had hung himself over the banisters in his home.
‘I don’t remember Mr Cole shouting at me, Daddy. I’m not even sure it’s anything to do with that – it’s just the man with the staring eyes. And it’s different now.’
‘In what way different?’
‘I’ve grown up in the dream, and I don’t think it’s the same man. I can’t see his eyes or his face now, I just know he’s going to hurt me and there’s nothing I can do to stop him.’
‘Perhaps you should see a doctor, Amy. I mean a special one who helps people who have bad dreams.’
‘I’m not ill, Dad. Most of the time I’m happy and