Somewhere, Someday

by Josephine Cox

Genres: General Fiction; Family Life; Historical Fiction; Sagas; Historical Romance

Synopsis

To find peace, she must come face to face with the tragedies of her past...

Somewhere, Someday is a heartfelt and breathtaking novel about learning to live with the past, from bestselling author Josephine Cox. Perfect for fans of Rosie Goodwin and Lindsey Hutchinson.

'Josephine Cox's novels satisfy the romantic in us all yet still provide a life-is-never-easy, gritty read. This is a heartstring-puller' - Next Magazine

Kelly knew that, although Barney would always love her, his restless soul would never allow him to stay, but she could never have envisaged how his leaving would alter her life. Alone once more, Kelly finds herself remembering the past: in particular, what happened in the autumn of 1877 and how it destroyed her family. Filled with regrets and wishes that life may have been different, Kelly begins to see that she must confront her past - and only then will she finally be free.

What readers are saying about Somewhere, Someday:

'Josephine Cox provides memorable characters that stay with you after the book has been read. [I] really cared about Kelly and Amy. As the plot unravels and family secrets are revealed the book is gripping... I was swept into the lives of the main characters'

'Another superb book that keeps you intrigued throughout, so much so I had difficulty putting it down. A really well written story with [both] heartache and love'

'This book has everything - five stars'

Release date: January 19, 2012

Publisher: Headline

Print pages: 259

Sample

For what seemed an age she lay still, her mind in turmoil, thinking about yesterday, fearing tomorrow.

When at last she turned away, he moved closer, awake now and, like Kelly, unsure of the future. ‘I’ll always love you,’ he murmured. ‘Don’t ever forget that.’

‘I won’t,’ she promised. In that moment, Kelly could not let him know how much she loved him. It wouldn’t change anything. His decision was made and she must abide by it.

Closing her eyes, she pushed away the heartache and let the tide of sleep envelop her.

But he didn’t sleep. Torn between his instinct and this woman whom he loved more than he had ever thought possible, he could find no peace. He knew that in the end, whichever way he turned, there would be a price to pay.

‘Everything as normal,’ she told herself as she busied about. ‘Mustn’t make him feel guilty.’ She had always known this day would come, but knowing didn’t make it any easier.

A short time later, when Barney made an appearance, she smiled as always and hid the ache in her heart.

Seated across the table from him she observed this man who would soon walk out of her life. Grateful for the time they had spent together, she counted herself luckier than most. It would have been cruel not to wish him well, for this gentle, darling man had given her so much.

Barney was not strikingly handsome; he wasn’t the cleverest person in the world, nor was he wealthy. To anyone but her, he was just an ordinary, unassuming bloke, with twinkling eyes and a gift of bringing laughter where before there was none. In the five years during which he had been her friend and lover, Kelly had learned to trust again. She had dared to love and, most of all, she had learned not to be afraid.

Since coming to live in Bedford town, Kelly had been more content. The demons that haunted her were quieter now . . . not gone for ever, because they never could be, but they were no longer destructive and that was because of him – like the ache in her heart now was because of him. Yet she understood.

‘I don’t blame you,’ she murmured. ‘You warned me from the start . . . but I just kept hoping you might change your mind.’

Anxiety rose in her. When he walked out of that door, she would be all alone again.

Concerned, he left his chair and came to where she sat. Gazing down at her for a moment, at that gentle, familiar face, he loathed himself. He saw how his decision to go had brought the sorrow back to those sincere brown eyes, and it pained him. But what could he do? If he stayed now, it would only postpone the day when he must go yet if he left now, would she be strong enough to keep the bad memories at bay?

How could he be sure?

He loved her more than he had loved any woman, but was Kelly’s happiness more important than his? Should he sacrifice his own dream for her? More importantly, would she thank him for it in the end?

For what seemed an age he continued to look on her, remembering how good it was between them. Filled with emotion, he couldn’t bring himself to speak, or tear himself away from those soulful eyes that gazed up at him with such understanding.

Her voice gentled its way into his mind. ‘It’s all right,’ she breathed. ‘I do understand.’

Her words struck deep. Reaching down, he drew her to him, not tenderly as usual, but savagely, with a kind of desperation. ‘Oh, Kelly!’ Feeling her in his arms like this, with her hair brushing his face and the wetness of her tears on his skin, he wanted to stay . . . to be with her always.

But he couldn’t.

Already he had stayed too long.

Easing herself from his embrace, Kelly stood up, crossed to the dresser and reached into the cupboard. Taking out a small, worn portmanteau, she brought it to him. ‘I got this ready a week ago,’ she explained. ‘In here, you’ll find clean clothes and toiletries. And a small sum of money.’

He couldn’t believe it. ‘You’ve had this ready for a week!’ How could she have known? ‘But . . . I never said—’

‘You didn’t have to,’ she stopped him. ‘It was there in the way you looked at me, with that faraway longing in your eyes. Lately, I’d wake up in the early hours and you’d be standing at the window, gazing out at the night like a lost soul.’ Her voice broke. ‘I knew then,’ she confessed, ‘but I thought . . . hoped, it wouldn’t be this soon.’

‘It doesn’t mean I don’t love you, or that we’ll never see each other again.’

‘I know.’

‘What will you do?’

‘I haven’t thought about it.’

Troubled now, she dropped her gaze, trying not to show him how much she needed him to stay. His question echoed in her mind; it was the same one she had asked herself time and again. When he was gone, what would she do?

She had no plans. All these years she had lived from day to day. Always afraid. Always looking over her shoulder. Barney had helped her forget, but now he was going and she felt lost.

‘Kelly?’

Hesitantly, she raised her eyes, but said nothing.

Stepping closer, he put his hands on her shoulders. ‘Promise me that you’ll take care of yourself.’

Kelly nodded.

‘You know what I mean,’ he urged. ‘Don’t let the past overwhelm you. What happened was not your doing. You must never forget that.’

‘Barney!’ She didn’t want him to think she would fall apart the minute he was gone, nor did she intend to. ‘Don’t worry about me,’ she told him kindly. ‘I know things were bad when we met, but I’m stronger now.’

Torn, he gazed at her for a moment. ‘I need to believe you,’ he whispered. ‘These past years you’ve put it all behind you, and if I thought my going would bring it all back, I’d stay. Whatever it took, I swear to God . . .’

‘Ssh!’ Kelly put her finger to his lips. ‘I want you to go,’ she lied.

His eyes widened. ‘You want me to go?’

Smiling, she reassured him, ‘The sooner you go, the sooner you’ll be back.’

His eyes clouded over. ‘You know I can’t promise that.’

‘I remember . . . “No promises”.’ It was what he had said that very first night.

‘Five years,’ he murmured incredulously. ‘Who would have thought it?’

‘And now it’s time to go.’ The arrival of this single, agonising moment had always been the one certainty in her otherwise uncertain life. For so long she had dreaded its coming. Yet now the moment was here she felt calm . . . almost relieved. She loved this man, and always would. But his roving soul had never really belonged to her.

Confidently, she walked him to the door. They kissed and held each other, and soon it was time. ‘Away with you now,’ she told him, her smile as bright as the day.

As he walked down the street, she watched with a heavy heart. When he turned to wave, she waved back.

For a time, the clatter of his boots echoed along the flagstones. A few moments later the silence told her he was gone, perhaps for good. ‘Goodbye, Barney,’ she murmured. ‘God go with you.’

As she turned towards the front door, a familiar voice made her swing round. ‘Morning, dear,’ it said, and she groaned inwardly.

‘Morning, Molly,’ she answered resignedly. Molly Tamworth was a busybody, but harmless enough. Widowed these past ten years and childless, she didn’t have much of a life, so she eagerly followed everyone else’s, much to their annoyance. ‘Did you know Jack Pally at number three has been carrying on again?’ she asked in a lowered voice.

Kelly was in no mood for gossip. ‘I’m sorry, Molly,’ she said, ‘but I can’t stop just now.’

Molly appeared not to hear. ‘Shocking business if you ask me! His missus caught the two of ’em red-handed. She came home from church on Sunday, found the two of ’em in her bed, if you please!’ Tutting loudly, she rolled her eyes skywards. ‘It doesn’t take a genius to know what the buggers were up to . . .’

She might have gone on, but something in Kelly’s manner silenced her; only for a moment, though, until her quick little mind put two and two together. ‘All right are you, dear?’ Bursting with curiosity she edged closer. ‘Summat troubling you, is there?’

‘No, I’m fine, thank you Molly.’ Longing to get away, Kelly gave her short shrift. ‘Must go, though. I’ve got things to do.’

‘Only, well . . . I saw your Barney going down the street just now,’ Molly blatantly persisted. ‘You haven’t broke up, have yer? Oh, I hope not. He’s such a nice man.’

‘Look, I really have to get on!’

Kelly needed to be alone with her thoughts. There were plans to be made and much to do.

Before the other woman could protest, Kelly hurried into the house and closed the door. ‘Nosy old devil!’ She couldn’t help a wry little smile. ‘You have to feel sorry for her though. I expect she’s lonely . . . like me.’

The reality was only now beginning to hit home.

For the rest of the day Kelly busied herself, trying to postpone the minute when she must contemplate a future without Barney. It wouldn’t be easy, she knew. For five long years her life had revolved around him, and now she had only herself to worry about. Would she stay here, or would she go? And, if she did leave, where would she go?

Madly cleaning the house from top to bottom, she shut the important things from her mind. She didn’t want to think about them, at least not until she had to.

It was five o’clock when Kelly finally fell into a chair, exhausted. For a long time, she sat there, her face heated from the warmth of a newly lit fire, and her aching legs stretched out in front of her. ‘What now?’ she asked herself, and as though it had been brewing in her subconscious, the answer was suddenly stark in her mind.

‘Go home, Kelly.’ Surprising her, the words tumbled out: ‘It’s time to lay the ghosts.’

Restless, she took a box from the dresser and set it down on the table. It was an old shoe-box. At one time it had held new boots, but now it was stuffed with memories . . . both good and bad.

Seating herself before the box, she was still for a while, curiously gazing at it; knowing what was inside yet afraid to open it in case the memories escaped and were lost for ever.

Gingerly now, she removed the blue ribbon that held the tattered lid to the box. Laying the ribbon down she lifted the lid and put it aside. Another moment and she had the entire contents of the box spread out before her.

Kelly knew them all by heart. Every article – each damning word and picture – was etched in her memory for all time.

Trembling, she set them out in order.

First came the yellowing newspaper cuttings. These were the oldest and the most chilling of all, chronicling the tragedy as it unfolded . . . the brutal killing of ‘a good man’; the events leading up to it and the consequences that followed.

It was all there, too harrowing to read.

There were also two letters. The first one, dated four years before, was a brief outpouring from Kelly’s brother, Michael; the other, dated only months earlier than Michael’s, was a long and seemingly sincere letter from her mother. Both had been hidden away, out of sight but not out of mind.

Hesitantly, Kelly re-read the letters.

As always when she read Michael’s letter, her emotions were a mingling of love and disgust, for though she loved him still, she had seen a weak and cowardly side to his character that she never knew existed.

Her mother’s letter, while dealing with the same issue, was of a different nature. Sure and repentant, it betrayed the deeper feelings of a woman who had suffered and was suffering still.

Neither letter had ever been answered by Kelly.

As she read now, the tears flowed down her face. The pain had not gone away. It never would.

As you may or may not know, your brother did change his name, and was even more difficult to find. But then he was always weak, while you were strong. Changing his name was his way of hiding from what happened, and who can blame him for that?

My sources tell me that you and Michael have gone your separate ways and have not been in touch for some long time. Though I find that very sad, I do understand, especially as I, too, chose to isolate myself from those I love.

I have known your whereabouts for some time now. You see, for my own peace of mind I needed to watch you both from a distance – to know you were safe.

These past years have not been easy for any of us, but we were right to put the miles between us. I have not regretted that decision, even though there were times when I desperately needed you. However, common-sense prevailed and I kept away.

Now, though, in my sixty-fifth year, I feel the need to let you both know how much I love you. In case I might cross your mind now and then, you should be aware that I am well and financially secure.

Like you, I have many regrets, but I refuse to let the past destroy me. I pray that you too have put all the bad things behind you.

The future is all that matters.

Neither of you have anything to be afraid of . . . or to be ashamed of. Always remember that.

Remember, too, that you are in no danger. I am watching over you.

I know this letter will come as a shock, and I am aware that you might not thank me for reminding you of a time you would rather forget. But I need you to know that I love you still, and always will . . .

He has instructions and will carry them out to the letter. You have my word that your privacy and your past are protected.

Goodbye, Kelly. I’m always thinking of you,

There was a photograph, too, taken in the autumn of 1876, when Kelly was ten years old and her brother twenty. The picture portrayed a family much like any other: mother, father, and two children, dressed in their Sunday best and standing stiffly to attention.

A very ordinary picture, betraying nothing of the extraordinary events destined to happen a short time later; on a day when all their lives would change for ever.

Now, as the memories all became too much to bear, Kelly began to pack everything away, making the same bitter comment that she had so many times before: ‘It’s not much to show for four lives.’

Yet, though her ‘life’ had been bleak for a very long time, it had not ended there, because now she had other, kinder things to remember, all to do with Barney and the last five years.

In the shoe-box was a photographic portrait of Barney, showing his lopsided grin, and some of her, shy and happy as he trained the camera-lens on her. There were others of the two of them, laughing in the sunshine, obviously delighting in each other’s company.

Remembering, she traced the outline of his face with the tip of her finger. ‘I’ll miss you,’ she murmured, ‘but I don’t blame you. With your wandering, gypsy soul, I never expected you to stay for so long . . . neither of us did.’

Holding his picture to her heart, she went on: ‘I don’t suppose I’ll ever see you again, will I?’ Yet she knew that if he wanted to find her, she could move to the other end of the world and Barney would track her down. It was a comforting thought.

With great care, she replaced the final pieces of her life into the shoe-box and tied up the lid with the same blue ribbon that had kept it secure these many long years.

Returning the box to the dresser, she closed the door on it. ‘I won’t open it again . . . not for a while anyway,’ she mused. It was too painful, and anyway, if all went well, after today her time and energy would be taken up in a new direction; a direction which, strangely enough, would take her back, almost to the beginning. Because only then could she begin to go forward.

‘“Going home”,’ she breathed. ‘Oh Kelly . . . just think of it!’ And suddenly her heart was full.

A short time later, she locked up the house, put the guard in front of the fire and went to bed. But she didn’t sleep. Instead, she lay wide awake, looking out of the window at the stars and making plans.

The more she thought about it, the more she began to look forward. It wouldn’t be easy, she knew that, but, ‘Tomorrow will be the first step. After that, we’ll see.’

Folding her hands together, she said a little prayer: ‘Dear Lord, help me to be strong. Help me, and others, to forgive.’

So much to forgive and half a lifetime already gone. That was another sin. Yet, even now, there was still time to make amends. But where to start? How to find the courage?

‘There has to be a way,’ she whispered.

After a while, she closed her eyes and went to sleep, feeling calmer than she had done in a very long time.

The old man looked up. ‘Morning, miss.’ His toothless grin made her chuckle. ‘It’s five o’clock. Time to get yer pretty little arse outta bed.’

‘Thank you, Ned!’ Giving him a wave, she groaned to herself, ‘I forgot all about Ned.’

The five o’clock call was for Barney. Kelly herself didn’t usually rise until ten minutes before he went off to work, at about six-thirty. ‘Ah, well, as Ned so rightly says, it’s time to get my “arse” out of bed . . . though I’m not sure about the “pretty” bit.’

Drawing her nightgown tighter, she scrutinised her round, homely figure in the mirror. ‘Not bad for forty-three. Oh, but there was a time when I recall being slimmer and more fetching,’ she mused, ‘but them days are long gone – more’s the pity.’ These days she had more important things on her mind than her fading looks.

Kelly had no illusions about herself. She was no beauty and never had been. There was nothing exceptional about her. She had good legs and a passable figure – strong, thick hair, and eyes that Barney called, ‘brown and warm as nutmeg’. Nothing special; nothing to be conceited about. But Barney had loved her, and that was enough.

Impatient with herself, she snatched up her robe and went down to get the house warm. ‘October!’ She shivered. ‘The worst month of the year!’ It was the end of summer and the onset of winter, an ‘in-between’ month. A ‘nothing’ month.

A moment later, on her knees before the grate, Kelly was piling kindling on top of the crumpled paper when she suddenly realised something very curious. ‘My God! Why did I never see it before?’ Leaning back on her haunches, she shook her head. ‘Every big change in my life has been in the month of October!’

She recounted the major episodes. ‘When the family was split up . . . when I met Barney . . . and now he’s gone and here I am about to embark on the loneliest journey of my life. Every time my life changes direction, it’s always in October!’

She wondered if it meant anything in particular, but in the end decided it was just one of those peculiar coincidences. ‘When all’s said and done, it’s just another ordinary month,’ she declared philosophically and, pushing the observation aside, got on with the task in hand.

In no time at all she had the fire crackling away, the tea brewed and her brown earthenware mug standing at the ready. Set out on the table was a piping hot breakfast – two fried eggs, a slice of bacon, and a chunk of bread on a side plate, to mop up any fatty juices. ‘Just what the doctor ordered,’ she chuckled, settling down to the feast. The smell of the sizzling bacon and familiar aroma of freshly brewed tea had sharpened her appetite.

Later, when the last drop of tea was drunk and every morsel of food enjoyed, Kelly lost no time in organising herself for the day ahead. Fond of making lists, she made one now:1. Finish the dress for Mrs Cooper and take it back.
2. Let all the customers know I shall be closed for business from today.
3. Close up the house, give a week’s notice to the landlord, and talk to Jack Denby about shifting the furniture.
4. Take all my savings with me – enough for a deposit on a house, and enough to keep me going until I get work.


Barney had set out on his own adventure. Now it was her turn. ‘If you don’t do it now,’ she decided, ‘you never will.’

Excited yet apprehensive about her decision to confront the past, Kelly swiftly put her plan into action before she had a chance to change her mind.

By ten o’clock she had cleared and washed her breakfast things, dusted round and, using the sheets off the beds, covered all the soft furnishings. The curtains were left half-drawn, and the fire allowed to die right down; even so she put the guard in front.

‘Can’t be too careful,’ she murmured. ‘There were rogues and thieves even here.’

She then washed and dressed, choosing an ankle-length black skirt, with a brown woollen cardigan over her blouse, and strong, laced boots over thick dark stockings.

Next, she packed a small portmanteau, taking only the basic things – several changes of undergarments; toiletries and a warm jumper, her silver-backed mirror and hairbrush, and two pairs of serviceable, warm stockings. ‘That should be enough for the few days I’ll be away,’ she observed. After that, she hoped to put the final part of her plan into action, but for the moment she was stepping into the unknown. ‘God help me,’ she muttered. ‘If this is to work, I must burn all my bridges behind me, once and for all.’

Checking the portmanteau one final time, she closed the lid, clicked shut the hinges and carried it down to the front door.

Standing it on the mat, she lingered a while, staring down at the familiar, small brown case, recalling the day she had carried it over this very threshold. ‘Today is the first time in five years that case has seen daylight,’ she reflected.

Mentally shaking away the cobwebs, she returned to the parlour where she collected Mrs Cooper’s finished dress. It was a beautiful thing, a gown of emerald green, with cream lace at the wrists and neck. ‘I’ve done a right good job with this dress, even if I do say so myself,’ she declared proudly. Laying the dress into a fold of paper, she covered it with the leftover material and draped it carefully over the back of a chair, ready to take with her.

All that remained to do now was to check through the house once more, and ensure that she had all her savings intact. These were kept in a small cash tin behind the horse-hair settee.

She counted the money out. ‘Six pounds in all.’ It was a respectable amount, painstakingly earned from her dressmaking skills, but, ‘What with moving all my things and paying rent in advance, it won’t last long if I don’t get work fairly soon.’

At the front door, she gave one last glance round. ‘Well, Kelly, my girl, you’ve taken the first step, but it won’t be the hardest one.’ A shiver of apprehension rippled through her. ‘You’ve made a start though, and come rain or shine, there’ll be no turning back now!’

The hearty chuckle made her swing round. ‘Talking to yourself is the first sign of madness, did yer know that?’ It was Molly Tamworth. ‘I heard you mumbling to yerself,’ she went on, ‘but I couldn’t quite hear what you were saying.’ Slightly deaf, she cupped her hand round her ear, obviously expecting Kelly to enlighten her.

Instead, Kelly gave her a smile. ‘Morning, Molly.’

Ever alert, Molly’s quick eyes spotted the portmanteau. ‘Off on a holiday, are yer?’

‘Not a holiday, but yes, I expect to be away for a few days.’ Or if things took a turn for the better, she might not come back at all.

‘That’s nice, dearie. I expect yer meeting that fella o’ yourn?’

Kelly thought it best to play along. ‘There’s not much you miss, is there, Molly?’

‘I’m a nosy old bugger, that’s why. I ain’t got nowt else to do with me time.’

There was something very sad about the poor thing, and Kelly was moved to offer, ‘Would you like to earn a shilling?’

‘All depends what I’m asked to do for it.’

‘Keep an eye on the house while I’m gone?’

Molly’s eyes lit up. ‘Money in advance?’

‘If you like.’

‘Done! Give us yer shilling then.’

Digging into her purse, Kelly gave her the shilling. ‘I’ll be gone a few days . . . a week at the most.’

Pocketing the money, Molly held out her hand again. ‘I’ll want the key.’ Her eyes glittered with anticipation. There was nothing she liked more than rooting about amongst other folk’s things, whenever she got the chance, that was.

‘You’ll not need the key,’ Kelly assured her. ‘Everything is secured, I just want you to see who comes and goes and to frighten anyone away that you don’t like the look of.’

‘Oh, I’ll do that all right, don’t you worry!’

Thanking her, Kelly said goodbye.

Walking down the street she had to smile. ‘I can rest assured that the house will be in safe hands anyway,’ she chuckled. ‘What! Even a pigeon won’t be able to settle on that roof without her knowing it.’

Her first call was to Mrs Cooper, a rather large, well-endowed lady of ample fortune. ‘Oh, it’s beautiful!’ She was so thrilled with the dress that she gave Kelly an extra two shillings; though her smile dropped when Kelly informed her she would need to find someone else to make and mend her clothes in future.

All Kelly could do was apologise. Mrs Cooper had been one of her best customers.

Apologies over, she made her way to the local grocery store where she paid to have a message pinned on the noticeboard. ‘Are you going away for good then?’ Mr Noble was a dear old soul. ‘Only the notice says you won’t be dressmaking any more.’ His old eyes spotted what she was carrying. ‘And I see you’ve got your case packed for off.’

Having no heart for explanations, Kelly bade him farewell. ‘I expect I’ll see you in a few days,’ she said, and quickly made her getaway.

The next stop was her landlord’s office. A lumbering giant of a man, he spent his days in a dingy back-room office. The place smelled of camphor and linseed. ‘State your business!’ Impatient and busy, he hardly ever looked up at his visitors.

Kelly’s voice rang out loud and clear. ‘I’ve come to give notice.’

He shuffled aside his papers and peered at her through tiny rimless spectacles. ‘You’ve what?’ Shaken by her announcement, he left his mouth h. . .