The Price of Love Read online

  About the Book

  Lucy Collins and her brother Sam have lived side by side with the Tanner family all their lives. Lucy and Robert Tanner long for the day when they can marry, and the future is full of promise for all three.

  Until tragedy strikes when Lucy’s parents are killed in a car crash, and Sam is left gravely injured and in need of careful nursing. Sam’s girlfriend Patsy refuses to help, and Lucy has little choice but to postpone her wedding. Not only is she left heartbroken at the loss of her parents, but Lucy is then devastated to discover that Robert has betrayed her in the worst possible way.

  With little money and unable to earn a regular wage, Lucy and Sam are forced to move into the slums of Liverpool. As Sam’s health deteriorates and their life spirals into poverty and despair, Lucy wonders if she’ll ever find happiness again…

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  www.rosiebooks.co.uk

  About the Author

  Rosie Harris was born in Cardiff and grew up there and in the West Country. After her marriage she lived for some years on Merseyside before moving to Buckinghamshire where she still lives. She has three grown-up children, six grandchildren and three great-grandchildren.

  She writes full-time. To find out more about Rosie Harris visit her website at www.rosiebooks.co.uk

  Also by Rosie Harris

  Turn of the Tide

  Troubled Waters

  Patsy of Paradise Place

  One Step Forward

  Looking for Love

  Pins & Needles

  Winnie of the Waterfront

  At Sixes & Sevens

  The Cobbler’s Kids

  Sunshine and Showers

  Megan of Merseyside

  The Power of Dreams

  A Mother’s Love

  Sing for Your Supper

  Waiting for Love

  Love Against All Odds

  A Dream of Love

  A Love Like Ours

  Love Changes Everything

  The Quality of Love

  Whispers of Love

  Ambitious Love

  This eBook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

  Version 1.0

  Epub ISBN 9781409022749

  www.randomhouse.co.uk

  Published by Arrow Books 2011

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  Copyright © Rosie Harris 2011

  Rosie Harris has asserted her right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work

  This novel is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental

  This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser

  First published in Great Britain in 2011 by

  Arrow Books

  Random House, 20 Vauxhall Bridge Road,

  London, SW1V 2SA

  www.rbooks.co.uk

  Addresses for companies within The Random House Group Limited can be found at: www.randomhouse.co.uk/offices.htm

  The Random House Group Limited Reg. No. 954009

  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

  ISBN 9780099527459

  Contents

  Cover

  About the Book

  About the Author

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Also by Rosie Harris

  Acknowledgements

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  For my daughter Pamela Sak

  Acknowledgements

  With sincere thanks to my editor Georgina Hawtrey-Woore and my agent Caroline Sheldon for their continued help and support.

  Chapter One

  The horrendous scream that rent the misty November air in Priory Terrace sent a shudder through the group of young people gathered around the huge blazing bonfire.

  It also alerted their parents; men and women who were standing on their doorsteps enjoying the spectacle and at the same time keeping an eye on what was going on, ready to help, if necessary, should things get out of hand.

  The younger ones had been determined to make bonfire night the most exciting event of 1920 and they wanted to do it on their own. They’d spent well over a week collecting wood and anything else that would burn and building the biggest bonfire that anyone in the terrace had ever seen.

  Perched on the very top was a guy that Lucy Collins and Patsy Warren had made out of an old broom handle swathed in straw and dressed in a variety of old clothes they’d cadged from their families over the past weeks. He wore old brown trousers, a striped grey and white flannel shirt, a moth-eaten green waistcoat and a grey and black check jacket. Round his neck they’d tied a bright red muffler and even put an old bowler hat on his straw head.

  The ear-splitting scream was followed by pandemonium as most of the group pulled back from the huge bonfire in fright.

  ‘It’s Percy Carter … he’s fallen into the fire,’ sixteen-year-old Lucy Collins exclaimed in horror.

  Seconds earlier Lucy’s brother Sam and Robert Tanner, who were both eighteen and, along with several of the older boys, were in charge of the bonfire, had been letting off the fireworks which had been collected together before the bonfire had been lit.

  The big crowd that had gathered there had been cheering as Catherine wheels spun, thunder flashes exploded and silver fountains and golden rain rose into the night sky, filling the air with shafts of coloured light and brilliant sparks. These had been interspersed with small bangers and jumping jacks which were exploding all around them.

  ‘Out of the way, so that I can get to him,’ a boy’s voice rang out over the tumult.

  ‘Sam, stop, you’ll get hurt,’ Patsy Warren’s high-pitched voice cut through the noise.

  Sam Collins paid no attention to her or to the many others who shouted warnings and gasped in horror as flames from the bonfire rippled up Percy’s back.

  Fortunately, Percy was wearing a heavy leather jacket and matching gloves and he appeared to
have clamped his hands over his eyes and face as he fell. He was now lying face down on the burning pyre and seemed unable to move.

  Ignoring the tongues of flame, Sam grabbed hold of the collar of Percy’s jacket and pulled him upright and started to drag him backwards into safety. The crowd of youngsters scattered, yelling excitedly as the guy toppled from his high perch and crashed down almost on top of the two boys, causing sparks from the bonfire to float high into the air and land everywhere.

  Grown-ups left their doorways and came hurrying forwards, seeking out their own children and shepherding them to safety.

  Brushing a lump of burning wood from her coat, Lucy Collins rushed forward to help Sam and Robert who were supporting an unconscious Percy. Very gently the two boys lowered Percy down on to the ground at a safe distance from the bonfire.

  ‘Someone’s already gone for an ambulance,’ a voice called out.

  ‘Better not touch him until it gets here,’ somebody else cautioned.

  Between them, Robert and Lucy tried to make Percy as comfortable as they could. When they gently moved his gloved hands away from his face they were relieved to see that it didn’t look as though the main part of his face had suffered any serious burns, although his forehead and around the edges of his cheeks appeared to be bright red and looked very sore.

  When Lucy turned round to see where her brother was she saw that Sam was bent over as if in pain, his hands clutched together between his knees.

  ‘Sam, what’s wrong? Are you hurt?’ she asked anxiously as she went to his side.

  ‘I’m all right, don’t worry about me. Go and see what you can do for Percy. My hands are stinging, that’s all. I think they’re burned a bit. Probably be all right in a minute.’

  Before Lucy could decide whether to stay and help Robert attend to Percy or see what she could do to help her brother, there was the sound of the ambulance approaching and of the crowd being moved back so that it could stop as close as possible to the spot where Percy was lying.

  It took several minutes to lift Percy on to a stretcher and load it inside the ambulance. As the driver was about to slam shut the rear doors, Lucy told him that the boy who had pulled Percy off the bonfire had burned his hands and she asked him if he would check to see if he was all right.

  The ambulance man took one look at Sam’s hands and the massive blisters that were already forming and said that Sam must go along to the hospital as well.

  Sam was reluctant to make such a fuss but both Robert and Lucy insisted that it was necessary and agreed that they would go with him, so all three of them were driven away in the ambulance along with Percy Carter.

  ‘I hope someone has let Mr and Mrs Carter know what has happened to Percy and that he is being taken to hospital,’ Robert said worriedly.

  ‘Don’t worry, someone will have told them and they will go straight there,’ Lucy assured him.

  Mr and Mrs Carter were already waiting outside the hospital as the ambulance pulled up; Mr Carter was wearing a long dark grey coat and black trilby and Mrs Carter was dressed in an expensive, well-tailored blue wool coat with a black astrakhan collar and a matching black astrakhan hat. They both looked anxious and rushed forward as the ambulance came to a stop and the men opened the rear doors and brought out the stretcher.

  Mrs Carter became hysterical when she caught her first sight of Percy and saw his badly singed clothes and the huge red wheals down each side of his face where he’d not been able to shield it with his gloved hands.

  His eyes were closed but he had regained consciousness and was moaning slightly. His mother bent over him to try and comfort him but one of the ambulance men laid a restraining hand on her arm.

  ‘Better not touch him,’ he warned. ‘Let the doctor have a look and put a dressing on his burns first; we don’t want him getting any germs in them now, do we?’

  Mr Carter put a protective arm around his wife’s shoulders and drew her away so that the men could carry the stretcher inside the hospital.

  It was then that Clarence Carter noticed Lucy, Sam and Robert.

  ‘Robert Tanner,’ he exclaimed sharply, ‘what happened? Were you and Sam Collins fooling around or something? Did one of you push Percy into the fire?’

  ‘No, Mr Carter, we most certainly didn’t,’ Robert hastened to assure him. He felt angry that Percy’s father should think that they would contemplate doing such a stupid thing but he was careful not to let his feelings show.

  Mr Carter owned the garage where both he and Sam were apprentices and Robert knew how important it was that Mr Carter didn’t get the wrong idea about what had happened. ‘In fact, Mr Carter, Sam—’

  ‘Sam was the one who pulled Percy off the bonfire, Mr Carter, and his hands have been badly burned. He needs to have them looked at right away,’ Lucy interrupted indignantly.

  Mr Carter stared at her, frowning, almost as if he didn’t believe what she was saying.

  ‘Well, you’d better get someone to see to him then,’ he said briskly.

  ‘Yes, Mr Carter,’ Robert said obediently.

  ‘Perhaps we could come and find out how Percy is after we’ve done that?’

  ‘Don’t worry about Percy; we’ll be staying at his bedside until we know how he is.’

  ‘Should we come back a bit later on?’

  ‘I’ve already said that there’s no need. I’ll tell you tomorrow if there is anything that I feel you should know,’ Mr Carter told Robert dismissively.

  ‘And make sure you’re not late in the morning after all the shenanigans that have gone on tonight. Even if it is Saturday and you finish at twelve, I still expect you to do a full morning’s work, remember. And that goes for you too,’ he added, looking at Sam.

  ‘It all depends on how badly his hands are burned, whether or not he will be fit to come to work,’ Lucy muttered, putting her arm around Sam’s shoulders and propelling him towards the desk where she could see a uniformed nurse.

  Robert hesitated for a moment, wondering if he should apologise for Lucy’s manner. Mr Carter was their boss so it was important that they stayed in his good books.

  He was still trying to decide what to do when Mr Carter said sharply, ‘Well, run along, then, Robert Tanner, there’s nothing more you can do now. Make sure that Sam Collins gets home safely after he’s had his hands attended to and, as I’ve already said, I expect you both to be at work on time tomorrow morning. I’ll be speaking to you then about this matter.’

  Before Robert could answer Mr Carter had turned on his heel and hurried away.

  For several minutes after the ambulance had pulled away there was an uneasy atmosphere in Priory Terrace. Normally it was a very quiet, respectable street in the middle-class district of Anfield. The women didn’t congregate, apart from an exchange of greeting if they met as they went in and out of their houses, or when they were cleaning their front doorsteps or windows. There was no gathering in groups on the doorstep to exchange gossip as there was in other parts of Liverpool.

  The younger children were allowed to play out in the evenings but they were always called in for bed long before it got dark and they never played rowdy games or swung from ropes tied around the lamp posts.

  Mostly the girls enjoyed skipping while the boys played marbles or played with their whipping tops. Hopscotch was forbidden because marking the pavement was unsightly, and if they played rounders or cricket, they had to do so without any screaming or shouting and to take great care that no windows were broken.

  The men kept their front gardens neat and grew vegetables in their back gardens but if they wanted to chat to each other it was usually over a quiet bevvy in the local pub.

  Then the arrival of a fire engine on the scene brought them all to their senses. As if awakening from a trance, everybody began to insist that the children, who were still outside and were mesmerised by the roaring fire as it flared up into the night sky, lighting up the entire street and casting weird shadows as well as throwing out an incredible heat, went i
ndoors for greater safety.

  ‘Come on, if you get this smoke on your chest, you’ll be coughing your lungs up all night,’ one mother scolded.

  ‘You can watch from the window,’ another consoled her youngster who seemed to be reluctant to leave the bonfire.

  One or two of the older men moved over to the bonfire and kicked at it with their feet as if to dismantle it but the pyre had a life of its own and flared up at them, sending out spurts of flame that licked at their boots or caught at their flapping trouser legs, filling the air with the smell of singed cloth.

  As they retreated backwards there was a gigantic explosion. A rainbow of colours hit the night sky as the fire reached the large box of fireworks which Robert Tanner had been in charge of and caused the entire contents to ignite.

  The noise of exploding bangers was like a series of guns going off and it struck fear into the hearts of many of the men who were there and who not long before had been in the army and under fire while serving in France.

  By now the firemen were in action and were ordering people to take shelter as they unwound their hoses and connected up to the nearest hydrant.

  A couple of the men had gone into their garden sheds and were now armed with shovels and spades. They began attacking the burning mass, beating down the flames, hacking at the structure. The bonfire was so sturdily built that their onslaught proved to be completely ineffective and, rather officiously, the firemen ordered them to get out of the way before anyone else was hurt.

  As the firemen turned their massive hoses on to the bonfire in no time at all they had doused the flames and the centre of the massive pile of flaming wood disintegrated until it was no longer a danger. Only the glowing heart remained, still hissing and spitting as the water reached it.