Sweethearts

by Emma Blair

Genres: Sagas

Synopsis

For Lexa and Cordelia Stewart the late 1930s bring changes that neither could have dreamed of. For as well as the onslaught of war, the death of their father leaves them ill equipped to run the family business. Cordelia falls recklessly in love with Joe Given, who is not only married but is looking elsewhere. Meanwhile, Lexa finds brief happiness with William until the war cruelly postpones their wedding. Will the Tarot card message read by her grandmother years ago finally come true? Will a 'cruel misunderstanding' stand in the way of Lexa and her longed-for marriage? Praise for Emma Blair: 'An engaging novel and the characters are endearing - a good holiday read' Historical Novels Review 'All the tragedy and passion you could hope for . . . Brilliant' The Bookseller 'Romantic fiction pure and simple and the best sort - direct, warm and hugely readable. Women's fiction at an excellent level' Publishing News 'Emma Blair explores the complex and difficult nature of human emotions in this passionately written novel' Edinburgh Evening News 'Entertaining romantic fiction' Historical Novels Review '[Emma Blair] is well worth recommending' The Bookseller

Release date: November 24, 2016

Publisher: Piatkus

Print pages: 384

Sample

Lexa Stewart opened her eyes, revelling in the warmth of her bed. She snuggled even further down under the covers, horribly aware that in a few minutes she’d have to get up for work and face a bitter, Scottish, January morning.

A glance at her bedside glass of water confirmed her worst fears: the water was frozen solid. She could hear her mother laying the fire in the front room, a job Alice did every morning before the rest of the family got out of bed, so that when she gave Lexa and her elder daughter Cordelia a shout they could hurry through and get swiftly dressed in front of the grate.

Monday. Lexa inwardly groaned. Her least favourite day of the week. The weekend was gone, and it was back to work again. Not that work was really all that bad – she actually quite enjoyed being behind the counter of her father’s fruit and veg shop. It could be quite fun at times when there was a bit of banter going on between her and the customers.

‘Lexa! Cordelia!’

Lexa took a deep breath, preparing herself for the massive effort of swinging her legs out of bed, collecting her clothes, laid out the previous night, and making a dash for the front room.

‘Lexa! Cordelia! Come along now, the pair of you.’

‘Damn!’ Lexa muttered. She’d have given anything for an extra half-hour. Or, better still, another hour. But that simply wasn’t on. She gasped when her feet slid out from beneath the bedclothes. It wasn’t just bitter, it was Arctic. ‘Oh, well,’ she sighed. It had to be done. There was nothing else for it.

It only took a moment to throw on her somewhat threadbare candlewick dressing gown, scoop up her clothes and rush to the front room, where the fire was already crackling cheerfully. A moment later she was joined by Cordelia, who was chittering with the cold. Neither spoke, being far too intent on getting dressed.

‘I’ll go and see to your dad,’ Alice said. ‘He had a bad night, tossing and turning. His indigestion must have been playing up again. Probably the cheese we had for supper.’

Lexa snapped her bra into place, then shrugged into one of the black dresses she wore for the shop. Cordelia was struggling into a similar one, her teeth still chattering.

‘It’s bloody cold,’ she complained, beginning to pull on her stockings. She checked her left leg for ladders, then did the same with her right.

Lexa was reaching for her own stockings when a terrible scream rang out. It was their mother’s voice.

‘Dear God!’ Cordelia exclaimed. ‘What’s up?’

There was a moment’s pause, then the scream was repeated. Cordelia and Lexa jumped to their feet and rushed to their parents’ bedroom. The door was ajar, and they hesitated outside.

‘Mum?’ Lexa queried in alarm.

A wild-eyed Alice, face drained of all colour, appeared. ‘It’s your father,’ she croaked.

‘What about him?’ Cordelia demanded.

Alice began to shake all over. ‘He’s ... he’s ... dead.’

Lexa felt as though she’d been hit on the head by the proverbial hammer.

Cordelia brushed past Alice and went straight to the bed where Jimmy Stewart lay with his eyes closed. Her mother was making a mistake, Cordelia told herself. Had to be. Her dad was as fit and healthy a middle-aged man as you’d find.

‘He’s dead, I tell you.’ Alice joined her at the bedside. ‘He isn’t breathing and there’s no pulse.’

Cordelia bent and listened at her father’s nose. Nothing. She pulled the bedclothes back and stared at his chest, which was quite still. There was no sign of movement whatsoever.

She looked at Alice, then at Lexa. Large tears appeared and rolled down her face. ‘I think he is,’ she said slowly, in a quavering voice.

Lexa reached her mother just as, with a sigh, Alice began sinking to the floor.

Lexa couldn’t think straight, unable to take in what had happened. Her dad dead! It ... it just couldn’t be. And yet it was. She was stunned. Like Alice, now sobbing piteously in the wicker chair to which Lexa had guided her, her head in her hands and her long black hair falling forward over her shoulders, Lexa had begun to shake.

‘What do we do?’ Cordelia asked wildly.

Lexa forced herself to think. ‘Go for the doctor, I suppose,’ she replied eventually.

That made sense to Cordelia. ‘You or me?’

Lexa shrugged. ‘I don’t mind.’

Cordelia’s eyes strayed to the bedside alarm clock. ‘The surgery won’t be open for a couple of hours yet, so we’ll have to wait.’

Lexa nodded her agreement. ‘What about the shop?’

Cordelia had forgotten all about that. ‘Out of the question. At least for now. It’ll have to stay shut.’

‘And the deliveries we’re expecting?’

Cordelia suddenly felt weary way beyond her years. It was as though a huge responsibility had settled on her shoulders. ‘There’s nothing we can do about them,’ she declared. ‘The suppliers involved are bound to understand when they find out why we aren’t there.’

Lexa glanced at her father’s corpse. How calm he looked. How serene. As if he was merely asleep and having a wonderful dream. Despite herself, she shuddered.

Cordelia went to Alice. ‘Would you like a cup of tea, Mum? I know I would.’

‘Tea?’ Alice repeated, as though she’d never heard the word before.

‘That’s right, tea. A good strong cuppa.’

‘Tea,’ Alice repeated again. ‘That would be nice.’

‘Right then. I’ll put the kettle on.’

‘I’ll do that,’ Lexa declared. ‘You stay here with Mum.’

Alice dropped her head again, but the sobbing had ceased, much to her daughters’ relief. ‘He was such a good man,’ she mumbled after Lexa had left the room. ‘I couldn’t have asked for a better husband.’

Cordelia gently patted her mother on the back. ‘I know, Mum.’

‘He was a real gem, that man. Never gave me a moment’s grief. Not once. I’ve always counted myself lucky to have married him.’

‘I’m sure he’d have said the same about you.’

‘Dead,’ Alice said in a hollow voice. ‘Why, only last night he ...’ Her voice tailed off, leaving Cordelia wondering what she’d been about to say.

Dr Berryman, the family physician, pulled the bedclothes up over Jimmy’s head while Alice, Cordelia and Lexa looked on. ‘I’m afraid I have absolutely no idea what the cause of death was, Alice. From what I can make out it could have been any one of a number of things. If I was to make a guess I’d probably say heart attack. But, as I say, that would only be a guess.’ He came to his feet from where he had been sitting on the edge of the bed. ‘That being the case, I’ll have to inform the police.’

Alice’s hand went to her mouth. ‘The police. Whatever for?’

‘That’s the rule, Alice. They’ll call and ask you a few questions.’

‘Is that absolutely necessary?’ Cordelia queried, thinking of the extra strain it would put on her mother.

‘I’m afraid so. It’s procedure.’

‘You don’t think there’s anything untoward, do you?’ Lexa demanded.

Berryman shook his head. ‘Not at all. It’s simply that the cause of death has to be established. After the police have been, Jimmy will be taken to the morgue where a post-mortem will take place. Again, procedure.’

Alice staggered, then sank into the wicker chair she was standing beside. ‘Does that mean they’ll cut him open?’

‘Yes, they will, Alice.’

‘Dear God in heaven.’

‘Part of the problem is, to my knowledge anyway, Jimmy had no history of illness or anything that might have led to his death. In fact, he was so healthy I hardly ever saw him in the surgery, as you probably well know.’

Alice nodded. Berryman was right about that.

‘And what happens after this post-mortem?’ Lexa queried.

‘The body will be released to the undertaker, at which point everything should be straightforward.’

‘You mean we can arrange the funeral?’ Cordelia demanded.

‘You can start arranging that as soon as you like,’ Berryman replied. ‘But it might be best to wait till the body’s released, then you’ll know exactly where you are.’ The doctor looked at Alice, aware how hard she was taking all this. However, that was hardly surprising in the circumstances. ‘I’ll come back early evening, if you don’t mind, and give you a sedative, Alice. It’ll help you get through the night.’

‘Thank you, doctor.’

‘Is there anything else I can do for any of you?’

Lexa glanced at Cordelia, who shook her head. ‘I don’t think so, doctor. But thank you for offering,’ she said.

He took a deep breath. ‘Then all that’s left is for me to say how truly sorry I am.’

‘I’ll show you out,’ said Cordelia.

‘Remember, I’ll be back early this evening, Alice. In the meantime I’ll notify the police.’

Alice ran a hand over her face, then crossed to the bed to sit where the doctor had been. ‘If you don’t mind I want to be alone with your father for a wee while,’ she said to Lexa. ‘Just the pair of us.’

Lexa gave her mother a peck on the cheek before following Cordelia out of the room, closing the door firmly behind her.

It was PC Sanderson, the local bobby, who turned up a few hours later. Lexa ushered him through to her parents’ bedroom, where Alice was still sitting with Jimmy.

‘You have my condolences, Mrs Stewart,’ Sanderson sympathised. ‘This must have been quite a shock.’

‘Just a bit,’ Alice replied drily, now fully composed.

‘Would you like a cup of tea, constable?’ Cordelia asked from the doorway.

‘If it wouldn’t be any bother.’

‘None at all. And you, Mum?’

‘Aye, I would.’

Sanderson produced a notebook and pencil. ‘I believe Dr Berryman explained I have to ask you a few questions, Mrs Stewart. It’s just routine and I’ll try to make them as brief as possible.’

‘Thank you, constable.’

He cleared his throat. ‘Now then.’

He was gone in under fifteen minutes. Some time later an ambulance arrived to take Jimmy’s body to the morgue. Alice broke down again and became almost hysterical, both Cordelia and Lexa having to restrain her in case she did herself an injury.

‘My poor man. My poor Jimmy!’ she wailed.

‘I know, Mum. I know,’ Cordelia crooned, her arm round her mother’s shoulders.

‘He was far too young to die. D’you hear? Far too young. He should have had years left in him.’

Cordelia didn’t know how to reply to that. Just then there was a knock on the front door. ‘You get that, Lexa,’ she said.

It was Mrs McAllister from across the landing. ‘What’s going on?’ she asked. ‘I saw the police here, and now an ambulance.’

‘It’s my dad. He died during the night,’ Lexa told her. ‘The ambulance was taking him away.’

Mrs McAllister shook her head in horror. ‘How’s your mum?’

‘In a terrible way, I’m afraid.’

‘Is there anything I can do?’

Lexa considered that for a few seconds. ‘I don’t think so. Not for the moment anyway.’ Then she had a thought. ‘You might tell the rest of the neighbours, though. Up and down the close, that is.’ The close was the communal stairway which separated the six flats, or houses as Glaswegians tended to call them, in their part of the tenement.

‘Aye, right. I’ll do that.’ Mrs McAllister hesitated. ‘If you want me just chap the door. Understand?’

Lexa nodded.

‘And tell your mother how sorry I am. She must be in absolute pieces. This is so unexpected, after all.’

‘I’ll tell her.’

Lexa briefly closed her eyes. What a day. What a nightmare. She’d never have guessed when she’d woken up that morning what was to follow.

A nightmare right enough.

Lexa came into the front room carrying two glasses of whisky. ‘Mum’s still fast asleep and I can only hope she’ll stay so till morning. The sedative Dr Berryman gave her must have been a strong one.’ She handed Cordelia one of the glasses.

‘Dad’s whisky?’ Jimmy had always kept a bottle in the house, though he hadn’t been all that much of a drinker. He did like a dram on occasions, however – particularly Ne’erday, or Hogmanay.

‘What else? I thought we deserved some.’

Cordelia let out a long, heartfelt sigh. ‘I can certainly use this. And maybe another one after.’

‘Our own type of sedative, eh?’ Lexa smiled, attempting a joke which didn’t quite come off. She sat down facing her sister. ‘I still can’t believe it, can you?’

Cordelia shook her head. ‘No.’

‘It was so sudden. So unexpected. No hint whatsoever.’

Cordelia stared into her glass, seeing a picture of her father in its contents. All sorts of memories flooded through her mind. She felt a choke rise into her throat.

‘I’ll miss him terribly,’ Lexa said softly. ‘I mean, he’s always been there. Every day of my life he’s been there. And now ...’ She trailed off.

‘And now he’s gone,’ Cordelia finished for her.

‘Aye, gone.’

‘How do you feel, sis?’

‘Completely and utterly washed out. Drained. And a bit sick.’

Cordelia nodded her head. ‘Me too.’

‘And ... well, grief-stricken I suppose you’d call it. But that’s in the mind. My body just feels as if it’s taken a terrible battering.’

They sat in silence for a few seconds, each lost in thought.

‘I half expect him to come walking through that door and we’ll find today’s been nothing more than a terrible dream,’ Cordelia said eventually.

‘Same here.’

‘But it isn’t a dream. And he’ll never walk through that door again. What we’ve been experiencing is reality. Bloody, awful reality.’

Lexa gazed into the blazing fire. ‘The question is, what happens now?’

Cordelia frowned. ‘You mean the funeral?’

‘No, after that. The shop, for example.’

Cordelia was at a loss. ‘I haven’t thought that far ahead, Lexa. Dad only died today, after all.’

‘Well, it’s something we’re going to have to think about. And soon. We’ll still need money coming into the house. We can’t do without it.’

‘I suppose ... I suppose we’ll just have to run the shop between us. There’s nothing else we can do.’

‘Do you think we’re up to it?’

‘I don’t see why not. We’ve both been working there since leaving school.’

‘True enough,’ Lexa agreed. ‘But only behind the counter serving customers. We’ve never been involved in the other side of it. Dad did all the ordering, don’t forget. And the accounts. I’ve no idea how either of those two things work.’

‘Me neither,’ Cordelia admitted.

‘Then there’s the lifting. Dad never let us carry any boxes, saying they were far too heavy for lassies. He did all that himself.’

‘In which case we’ll just have to learn the things he did, including the lifting. I’m stronger than I look. And so are you.’ She regarded Lexa shrewdly. ‘You’re the one good at sums and the like, so maybe you can do the accounts.’

‘And you?’

‘The ordering. I know Dad kept a record of what was ordered, and returned. Presumably I won’t go far wrong if I keep to what’s gone on before.’

That made sense to Lexa. ‘The other thing is, what about money? We’ll need to pay deliveries. And our own wages. Have you anything put by?’

Cordelia shook her head. ‘I’ve got a couple of quid in my purse, and that’s it. You?’

‘The same. I’ve never seen the need to save.’

‘Nor me. Here today, gone tomorrow, so to speak.’

Lexa was beginning to feel more relaxed. ‘We’re going to have to speak to Mum about the money thing. She must know what the situation is.’

‘I only hope she does,’ Cordelia mused.

‘She’s bound to. There must be a bank account somewhere, though I’ve never heard her, or Dad, mention one.’

‘Well, we can’t speak to her yet. Not while she’s the way she is. I doubt we’d get any sense out of her even if we did.’

They continued talking for a while before finally going to bed, where the whisky worked as they’d hoped it would.

Lexa was first up next morning and decided to lay the fire to save Alice a job. She had just got it lit when Cordelia joined her.

‘How did you sleep?’ Lexa asked.

‘Like a top. You?’

‘The same.’

‘What shall we do about breakfast?’ Again, that was normally their mother’s province.

‘I couldn’t eat anything yet. Maybe in half an hour or so. I could murder a cup of tea, though.’

‘I’ll put the kettle on, then.’

Cordelia was about to head for the kitchen when Alice came through the door into the front room. The girls stared at their mother in shock. Alice’s hair, which the previous evening had been a lustrous black, had turned snow white.

‘I know,’ Alice said huskily. ‘I’ve already seen it.’

‘Oh, Mum,’ Lexa cried, tears coming into her eyes.

Cordelia could only think that her previously attractive mother now looked old – if not positively ancient.

‘Are you ready?’ Cordelia asked.

Alice took a deep breath. ‘As I’ll ever be.’

‘Then we’d better be moving.’

The post-mortem had established that Jimmy had died of a massive, and unforeseeable, heart attack. The body had been released to the family for burial, and now the hearse and hired car were downstairs waiting. It was time to go to the cemetery.

There was a good turnout at the funeral, many neighbours and friends, not to mention relatives, coming to pay their respects. To Cordelia and Lexa’s surprise Alice remained composed throughout.

Later, during the wake, which Mrs McAllister and other women up the close had organised, Lexa noticed that her mother had disappeared from the gathering. Guessing where she had gone, she looked into her parents’ bedroom and saw Alice standing staring at a photograph of her dad taken several years previously, her features contorted into an anguished mask.

Thinking it the best thing to do, Lexa turned round and rejoined the wake.

The stench that hit Lexa and Cordelia when they opened the door was almost overpowering. It was the first time the shop had been opened in three weeks.

Lexa wrinkled her nose in disgust. ‘I never thought it would be this bad.’

Cordelia went inside and flicked a switch, and electric light flooded the interior. Everywhere were boxes of rotting fruit and vegetables, most in an advanced state of decay. ‘Bloody hell!’ she muttered. This was going to take some cleaning up.

‘The whole place stinks,’ Lexa declared.

‘You can say that again.’

Both girls stared around them in dismay. Where to begin?

‘The normal delivery people won’t take this lot away,’ Cordelia commented. ‘And I can’t say I blame them either.’

‘Well, we’ll have to get rid of it somehow.’ They puzzled over the problem. ‘I’ve an idea,’ Lexa said at last.

‘What?’

‘Let’s get Campbell the carrier to do it for us. That horse and cart of his will be ideal.’

Cordelia couldn’t think of any other solution. ‘Let’s just hope he’s free and amenable. Who’ll go and enquire, you or me?’

‘I’ll go. I shouldn’t be long.’

‘You do that, and I’ll look round the back shop to find the accounts and ordering books. You know where his stables are, don’t you?’

‘Of course. Behind Barry’s Garage. Isn’t that right?’

‘Don’t forget to impress on him it’s an emergency. We desperately need him.’

‘I won’t. Ta-ra, then.’

‘Ta-ra!’

Cordelia watched her sister hurrying off up the street. What a mess, she thought, turning into the shop again. A lot of work was going to be needed before they opened for business once more.

‘Hello! Is anybody there?’

Cordelia came out from the back shop where she’d finally located the ordering book, though so far not the accounts one, to find it was Mr Burnside, their main supplier, who’d shouted. He was an incredibly fat man with a stomach so large it was bigger than many pregnant women’s at full term.

She smiled. ‘Hello, Mr Burnside.’

‘Where in the hell’s Jimmy?’ he demanded angrily. ‘This is the third time I’ve called with your order. The last two the shop was shut.’ He glanced about him. ‘What’s going on?’

‘My father died three weeks ago,’ Cordelia informed him. ‘The shop has been shut since.’

Burnside was immediately sympathetic. ‘I’m terribly sorry to hear that. I had no idea. What did he die of?’

‘A heart attack in the middle of the night. There was no warning. He seemed healthy enough going to bed, then simply died. It was a terrible shock to all of us.’

‘I can imagine.’

Cordelia spotted his van parked outside. ‘I’m afraid I can’t take any deliveries for the moment, Mr Burnside. As you can see, we’ve got this lot to clear away first.’

A look of irritation flashed across Burnside’s face. ‘Aye, I suppose you have. However, don’t for one moment think I’m taking returns. Not on this scale I’m not. This stuff’s putrid.’

Cordelia didn’t like his tone. So much for the sympathy – that hadn’t lasted long. ‘We don’t expect you to. My sister and I are making other arrangements.’

‘Just as well.’ He eyed her speculatively. ‘Are you and your sister thinking of running this shop yourselves?’

‘That’s correct.’

He almost laughed, but managed to contain himself. ‘A couple of lassies in business? I’ve never heard the like.’

‘Well, you have now,’ she replied coldly.

‘It’ll never work.’

‘And why not?’ she demanded.

‘It just won’t, that’s all.’

‘Lexa and I think otherwise.’

‘Think all you want. I tell you straight you’ll fall flat on your pretty faces.’

‘Our pretty faces, as you call them, have absolutely nothing to do with it.’ She was inwardly raging. How like a man. Or some men, anyway. Her father had never been patronising towards women just because they were female. Quite the contrary.

This time Burnside did laugh. ‘A feisty little thing, aren’t you?’

She glared at him. ‘If I have to be.’

His enormous stomach wobbled as he laughed again. ‘Well, good luck to you, hen. You’ll need it.’

She had an almost uncontrollable urge to punch him in the belly to see how he liked that.

‘If you don’t want your order today, then when?’ he asked, when he had stopped laughing.

‘I don’t know yet.’

He raised an eyebrow.

‘It depends how long it takes us to clear away this mess.’

‘Then I’ll wait to hear from you.’

‘You do that, Mr Burnside. Now good day.’

‘Good day, Miss Stewart.’

She’d show him, Cordelia thought angrily as he waddled from the shop. She and Lexa. By God and they would.

Lexa arrived back a few minutes later. ‘Campbell will be here first thing the morn’s morn,’ she announced.

‘Why were you gone so long?’

‘He was out on a job so I had to hang around the stables until he returned. His son Billy was there, and he told me that his father was out with the cart, but would be back any time soon. The any time soon turned out to be longer than Billy thought.’

‘First thing tomorrow, you say. Was he quite amenable?’

‘Not to begin with. Didn’t fancy it at all. So I’m afraid I had to offer him a pound more than the going rate to get him to agree. There was no other way.’

‘A whole pound!’ Cordelia exclaimed.

‘It was either that or find someone else. Did I do wrong?’

Cordelia shook her head. ‘Probably not. I’d no doubt have done the same thing in your shoes.’

‘So what do we do now?’

‘Find the accounts book, then lock up and go home again. There’s nothing else we can do here until tomorrow.’

Cordelia and Lexa were exhausted. Campbell had arrived as promised, with his son Billy, and together all four of them had loaded the rotten fruit and vegatables on to his cart. It was back-breaking work, at least for the girls, and had taken far longer than they’d anticipated.

To their surprise they’d found they couldn’t move a full box on their own. Jimmy had been right about how heavy they were, so it had been a case of the pair of them moving one box at a time. Even then it had been a struggle. Cordelia might have said they were stronger than they looked, but neither of them was strong enough to move one of those boxes on her own.

After Campbell had gone they’d set to with buckets and mops to clean up the shop, which in itself had taken quite a while.

‘I’m starving,’ Lexa declared, slumping into a chair in front of the fire.

‘Me too,’ Cordelia agreed. ‘I was going to have a look at the ordering book tonight, but I doubt I’m up to it. It’ll be an early bed for me.’

‘And me. I’m completely done in.’

Their kitchen was a small one, so they ate in the front room where there was a substantial table and chairs. The table was already laid.

Alice appeared carrying two steaming plates. ‘Here you are,’ she said, putting their meals down in front of them before disappearing off to get her own plate.

Lexa stared in . . .