A Valley Wedding: Book 3 in the uplifting new Backshaw Moss series

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She’d tried to introduce Lucas to suitable young women, but he’d told her bluntly that he didn’t intend to get trapped in marriage because he was determined to become a doctor. That would take him years, so he wasn’t likely to marry till he was at least forty, if then. She wished he was at home to open the letter and put her out of her misery about when he’d be leaving. She shouldn’t begrudge him this chance and she didn’t, but these people would take him away from her, she knew they would, and things would never be the same. Three sons she had, all of them over thirty, and none of them had produced grandchildren for her to love. Well, during the past ten years when times were at their worst and little steady work available, how could they have married? As a widow, she’d often depended on their support. Arthur flushed, looking embarrassed. ‘I don’t have proper lodgings. You could leave a message for me at the church hostel in East Rivenshaw. I earn my night’s shelter there by doing some cleaning, and they let me leave my spare clothes in the cellar, but no one can stay there during the day so I never know where I’ll be then.’ Lancashire, 1936. With her son Gabriel finally married, and her youngest following his dreams of becoming a doctor, Gwynneth Harte finds herself with an empty nest – until a fire forces her to move in with Gabriel and his wife Maisie at their home on Daisy Street.

Well, it’s good that you can identify him yourself,’ Biff said. ‘That’ll save me one job. What do we need to do next, Mr Lloyd?’ Lancashire, 1936.With her son Gabriel finally married, and her youngest following his dreams of becoming a doctor, Gwynneth Harte finds herself with an empty nest - until a fire forces her to move in with Gabriel and his wife Maisie at their home on Daisy Street.I’m not. It’s the simple truth. She left houses to three of her distant relatives who’d fallen on hard times, people she thought deserved a helping hand.’ I’ve never met or communicated with anyone of that name. I’ve been sent by Mr Albert Neven, a London lawyer, to find Arthur Chapman who has been left a bequest by a distant relative.’ Henry Lloyd studied the man Biff Higgins had brought to see him. ‘You don’t need to prove who you are, Mr Chapman. I used to see you around town when you worked for Sam Redfern. After you lost your wife, you seemed to vanish, and when I wanted to find you, I couldn’t.’ After a moment’s thought, he snapped his fingers. ‘Ah. Dad’s second cousin on his father’s side. He allus spoke well of her. I didn’t think she knew I existed, though.’ Tears came into Arthur’s eyes and he blinked furiously. ‘I don’t deserve anything. I’ve made a mess of my life in the past two years.Yes, a right old mess, and all my own fault.’

After a slight hesitation the man took it, read it and dropped it on the table. ‘Has she set a detective on me now?’ Then, as life improved slightly and they were getting on their feet again, she’d fallen ill and nearly died, costing them a lot of money for an operation. Now, however, her two eldest sons were in employment and married, so surely there was hope that they’d start families? He sat down in a chair across the tiny table from the man, who seemed to be drinking lemonade, or was it water? If so, the barman must have taken pity on him and given him a drink so that he would have an excuse to stay and warm himself. Well, I could certainly do with a good meal, so I’ll thank you kindly for that offer.’ He stood up, leaving the rest of his drink, so Biff left his beer. It had served its purpose and he didn’t enjoy drinking in the daytime anyway.

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Aye, easy. I’ve lived in the valley all my life. There’s a dozen folk in Rivenshaw who’ve known me since we were childer together.’ She’d known her youngest lad was clever, but no one she knew had ever had a son go to a university.What would happen to him there? Would it change him, make him look down on the rest of the family? She paused, head on one side. No, not their Lucas. Their meal was served and Arthur proved how hungry he’d been by clearing his plate rapidly. He looked across the table apologetically as he laid down his knife and fork, because Biff’s plate was still half full. ‘Sorry for my poor table manners. I were famished.’