Free Escape by Moonlight by Mary Nichols Page B

‘Goodbye for now, my gentle Lucy.’
    She ran from him, struggled a few moments with the door and then next moment was on the lane and hurrying towards the station and home where she hurried up to her room to pin her hair up properly.
    Frank Lambert propped his fishing rod against the wall of the Nayton Arms and went inside. The bar parlour was crowded with working men, enjoying an hour or two of leisure, while their womenfolk cooked the Sunday dinner. For some, whose employment warranted a good wage, there might be a roast, for others a mutton stew or perhaps a poached rabbit. No one in the bar parlour of the Nayton Arms that Sunday was talking about their dinner; they were all discussing what the war might mean and someof the younger men were talking of joining up and seeing something of the world.
    Frank was not interested in anything like that. He would go on as he always had, looking after the signal box and doing a bit of fishing and shooting. Most of the time he went alone, being of a solitary disposition, but his widowed mother, who had given birth to him when she thought her time for child bearing had long passed, was getting old and complained frequently that she was not long for this world and if he didn’t want to end up alone for the rest of his life he ought to do something about finding a wife. ‘And one who’s capable of looking after me when I can’t get about anymore,’ she had added. ‘You don’t want to see me in the workhouse, do you?’
    He had thought about it long and hard and had come to the conclusion he could do no better than Lucy Storey. She was robust and healthy and wasn’t afraid of hard work. She made his loins churn whenever she was near and he was convinced she would, given a little persuasion, come to think the same way about him. Her only fault, that he could see, was a certain independence, a flash of spirit and a light in her eye which attracted other members of the male sex beside himself, men like that bastard, Jack de Lacey. But as long as she remained faithful, he might even be proud to own a wife that other men coveted. They would soon learn he was not to be trifled with and so would she.
    He found Bert sitting at a table in a corner, almost hidden from the crowd in the main part of the room, where he was enjoying a tankard of ale and the company of Molly Parsons. When Bert was with that buxom lady, he was usually affable and he could hardly deny Frank a pleasure he so patently enjoyed himself. Besides, Frank had oncedone him a huge favour and he could always call it in, but not in front of Molly.
    ‘Hallo Frank, what brings you here? Nothing wrong is there?’
    ‘No, naught wrong at all,’ Frank said, wondering what Bert would say if he told him that he had seen Lucy and Jack de Lacey going arm in arm into Nayton wood for a second time in a week. But that titbit of information could keep until it served a useful purpose. ‘I was goin’ fishin’.’
    ‘Good luck to you, then. Want a tankard of ale afore you go?’
    ‘I’ll get it,’ he said quickly and then to Molly, ‘What are you drinkin’ Mrs Parsons?’
    ‘I’ll have a gin and orange, Frank. And you can call me Molly.’
    As she was no older than he was, married and widowed all in one year, he could see no reason why he should not, though Bert looked none too pleased. ‘Right you are, Molly, a gin it shall be. And another beer for you, Bert?’
    ‘So, if there’s nothing wrong, what can I do for you Frank?’ Bert asked, when the drinks had been fetched and Frank had seated himself opposite them.
    ‘I’ve been thinkin’ it’s time I took a wife.’
    Bert chuckled. ‘So wha’s put that notion into yar head?’
    ‘Me ma. She says it’s about time I took the plunge. She i’n’t gettin’ any younger and so I thought …’ He paused and grinned. ‘I was thinkin’ of your Lucy.’
    ‘My Lucy! Well, I’m blessed. What does she say about it?’
    ‘I hen’t asked her yet.’
    ‘What are yer