The Fight for Lizzie Flowers (34 page)

‘But you’re still only fourteen,’ Lizzie said, glancing quickly at Ethel. ‘I thought you was staying on at school for your exams?’

‘I’m fifteen next month,’ Rosie said with a half-hearted smile. ‘And I like fashion. I was getting bored at school, anyway.’ She looked down at Polly. ‘Come
on, let’s go upstairs.’

‘Tell your brother to come and see Lizzie,’ Ethel called after them as they ran through the hall and up the stairs.

‘How’s Timothy?’ Lizzie asked as Ethel took the kettle off the stove and poured hot water into the china teapot.

‘Distant,’ Ethel murmured as she placed two cups and saucers on the table. ‘I can’t get a word out of him.’

‘He misses Richard.’

‘Yes, although they were never close.’

‘Perhaps it’s the shock.’

Ethel glanced up, her blue eyes moistening. ‘Richard was too young to die.’ She picked up the full cups. ‘Let’s go and sit in the garden. It’s such a lovely
day.’

Lizzie followed Ethel out through the open kitchen door and into the bright sunshine. Compared to the yards of the island houses, this was paradise. A green lawn, flowers, a little wooden shed
and a proper path. Richard had been very proud of his garden, but it was very much his domain. Now it seemed almost forgotten. The grass was growing high, there were a few weeds in between the
paving which Richard would have pulled up immediately. The kids had left their bikes by the coal bunker, the tyres making ridges in the lawn. Richard would have hated that, Lizzie thought, as they
made themselves comfortable on the garden bench by the fence.

‘Tell me how you really are,’ Lizzie said as Ethel sat staring into space.

‘Not good, if you want to know the truth.’

‘You’ve got a bit thin, Ethel. You should be eating for two.’

‘Yes, but without . . .’ She paused, taking a deep breath. ‘Even though we’d drifted apart, the house don’t feel normal.’

‘How are you managing for money?’

‘We had some in the Post Office. I’ve been drawing on that. Richard would have a fit if he knew—’ She stopped, shaking her head. ‘I keep thinking he’s
here.’

‘It’ll take time to get used to things.’

Ethel played with her cup. ‘Somehow I’ve got to make ends meet. Once Mrs Ryde puts the house up for sale—’

‘When is that?’ Lizzie asked. Ethel had said last week that the house was to be sold but she had been hoping Mrs Ryde would change her mind.

‘She wrote and said she has a mortgage to pay. If I can’t find the rent then she has to sell it.’

‘But can she do that?’

‘It’s her house, not mine.’

‘Can’t she wait until you find a job?’

‘Where am I going to get a job with a salary to match Richard’s? He was earning good money. She’s given us a month before she puts the house up for sale. She wants me and the
kids to move in with her.’

By the expression on Ethel’s face, Lizzie could see that Ethel hated the idea. ‘Perhaps this is the right time to buy the leasehold of Mr James’s shop,’ Lizzie said
eagerly.

But Ethel bit her lip. ‘I’ve lost me confidence. I can’t seem to think straight. I’d be no good to you right now.’

‘I’m sure you’ll be fine but I don’t want to rush you.’

‘We’ve got to have a home. The kids need security. There’s so much to think of.’

‘Does that mean you’ll accept Mrs Ryde’s offer?’

Ethel paused, trying to compose herself. ‘It seems the sensible thing to do. She’s got a very big house. Four bedrooms of which three are empty, two downstairs rooms, a large parlour
and a dining room. There’s a sizeable kitchen and scullery and a vast garden, as she reminded me in her letter.’

‘Sensible perhaps, but will you be happy?’

Ethel shrugged. ‘She is their gran after all.’

‘Lil and Doug would have you.’

‘How can I, when Mrs Ryde has got such a big house?’

‘Does your mother-in-law know about the baby?’

‘No. And I’m not telling her, not until I have to.’

Lizzie looked sadly at her miserable friend. ‘It sounds like you’ve made up your mind.’

‘What can I expect of life after what I did?’

Lizzie touched her friend’s shoulder. ‘You’ve got to stop thinking like that.’

‘Richard’s death was my fault.’

‘It wasn’t.’

‘I was a married woman and went with another man. If I hadn’t, Richard would be here today. We could have got on with our lives as a family.’

‘Ethel, you’re forgetting how unhappy you were with Richard and why you went with Cal.’

‘I wish I’d never laid eyes on him.’

‘Don’t say that.’

‘It’s true.’

‘You took a chance to be happy. In your eyes it was a mistake, but people make lots of mistakes. You can’t spend your life punishing yourself at Mrs Ryde’s.’

Ethel turned sharply and said, ‘If I have a black baby, what will everyone think? All its life it will be considered not only a bastard but a second-class citizen as well. How am I going
to live with that?’

‘Ethel, stop this! You’ll love your baby and so will everyone else.’

A tear stole its way down Ethel’s gaunt cheek. ‘I don’t know how I’m going to cope.’

‘You’ve got your children to help you.’

‘But will they? What will they think of their mother?’

‘They love you and will stick by you, no matter what. So will I. So will your mum and dad. And all your friends. You won’t be on your own.’ Lizzie put her cup down on the
grass, along with Ethel’s. ‘Come here. Give me a hug.’

They embraced and Lizzie said softy, ‘Cal is very worried about you.’

‘When did you see him?’ Ethel pushed her fingers over her wet face.

‘The day before yesterday. Though there’s no garage now, Danny and Cal have cleaned up all the mess and unearthed the tools. Luckily the fire didn’t get to them. All the
traders from Cox Street have been taking stuff over. Wood, tarpaulins, and sheet metal to form a temporary shelter. They won’t get buses or lorries underneath, but the cellar can still be
used as a workshop. And when they have a tall vehicle to mend, they can roll back the tarpaulin.’

‘That’s good.’ Ethel nodded slowly.

‘Are you sure you don’t want to see Cal? He asked me when I saw you to tell you he’s thinking of you.’

‘Is that what you’ve come here for, to run his messages?’ Ethel asked, hot colour flooding her cheeks.

‘No, course not.’

‘Then please don’t mention his name again.’

‘Sorry. It’s no business of mine.’

Ethel didn’t reply. Instead, she sat with her hands clasped, her fingers fidgeting again. Just then a tall figure walked from the back door and gave Lizzie a start. It was Timothy, but she
had thought for a moment it was Richard. He looked very much like his father.

‘Hello, Auntie Lizzie.’

‘It’s nice to see you, Timothy. How are you?’ She wanted to give him a hug, but knew he felt too old for that now.

‘Okay, thanks. I’m off out now, Mum.’

‘Where are you going?’ Ethel asked anxiously. ‘Dinner will be ready soon.’

‘I’m going out on my bike.’

‘Please don’t be long.’

Timothy took hold of his bicycle and, wheeling it out through the side gate, he didn’t turn round to say goodbye.

‘I’m sorry about that,’ Ethel said heavily. ‘He just won’t talk and it’s getting on my nerves.’

‘He’s a teenager,’ Lizzie said. ‘It’s understandable.’

‘He wasn’t like that once. He was a mummy’s boy.’ Ethel stared after him. ‘He just goes out and I don’t see him for hours on end.’

‘Grief takes us all in different ways.’

‘On top of losing Richard,’ Ethel said wearily, ‘I’ll have to break the news I’m expecting.’

On the drive home from Blackheath, Lizzie thought about what Ethel had said. Timothy had always been close; both mother and son were suffering from the burden of guilt that Richard’s death
had left them with. But what would happen when the new baby arrived?

It had been over an hour later by the time Lizzie could prise Polly away from Rosie’s company. ‘I want to be like Rosie when I grow up,’ Polly said now as she sat in the van.
‘A . . . a mi – minokin.’

‘A what?’ Lizzie asked with a frown.

‘A lady what walks up and down in shops wearing posh clothes.’

‘A mannequin, you mean.’

Polly nodded. ‘Rosie’s pretty, ain’t she?’

‘Yes, very.’

Polly sat on the edge of her seat. ‘Can we go to Uncle Danny’s and see the new garage?’

‘It won’t be finished yet.’

‘But Tom will be there. Mrs Williams couldn’t look after him today. She had to go and put flowers on the grave.’

‘Mrs Williams?’ Lizzie repeated with a curious smile.

‘The lady that looks after Uncle Danny and Tom.’

‘Oh yes, of course.’

‘She’s got to catch the train to go there as it’s a long way away. Tom asked if he could go on a train as he ain’t been on one much. And she said next time she went he
could go too.’

‘That’s very kind of her.’

‘Tom says Mr Williams is with Jesus, like Mr Ryde.’

‘So Mrs Williams travels by train to visit her husband’s grave,’ Lizzie repeated, realizing that Tom seemed to have told Polly quite a lot about this lady.

‘Yes,’ answered Polly with a firm nod. ‘He used to play football. But he got sick and couldn’t run about any more. Tom told her he’d like to be in a team too. So
Mrs Williams went up to his school and asked the teacher if he could be.’

‘And what happened?’

‘They said he could be next term.’ Polly sucked in a quick breath. ‘So can we go to the garage?’

‘All right. But we won’t stop long.’ Lizzie reflected that Danny rarely spoke about Mrs Williams. When he did, he always referred to her as ‘our landlady’. But, by
the sound of it, this young widow seemed to mean a great deal more to Tom than Lizzie had realized.

Danny was standing at the top of a ladder when Lizzie drove up. He’d been working in the fresh air since the garage had burned down. His forearms were browned by the sun
under his rolled-up shirtsleeves and his hair had turned to the colour of wheat.

Lizzie saw the shelter had taken shape since she visited last week. The sheet-metal walls were now nailed to new timber uprights. A green tarpaulin acted as roof and was stretched across from
one vertical post to the other. The light breeze was shaking one corner of the rough cloth, the area that Danny was working on. When Lizzie and Polly walked up, he let it go and it flapped again,
until taking a nail from between his teeth, he hammered it home.

‘Very nice,’ Lizzie said as she stood, looking around.

‘It’s like the camp me and Tom built in the yard,’ Polly said to Danny, ‘only bigger.’

Danny came down the ladder. ‘Thanks, Pol. It should do, as long as we don’t have a storm.’

‘Where’s Tom?’ Polly asked.

‘Round the back with one of Mary’s sons. They’ve been down on the river.’

‘Can I go too?’

‘Not dressed in your best clothes you can’t,’ Lizzie said.

‘When can I then?’

‘We’ll have to see. Now go and find Tom.’

Polly ran off, jumping the newly scrubbed cellar boards laid out in the sun to dry. To the rear of the shelter Lizzie saw the old wooden bench. All the tools on its surface looked clean and
oiled. ‘We have to pack the tools up each night and take them home,’ Danny told her. ‘There’s no security here now. So we’ve moved all our spares from the hut to a
lock-up under the railway arches. We’ll work on the larger vehicles in the open and make the most of the daylight hours. When it rains we’ll pull over the tarpaulin.’

‘I’m glad to see Leonard Savage hasn’t got his way.’

‘No,’ said Danny with a frown. ‘But that don’t mean he’ll stop trying.’

Just then Tom and Polly and another boy appeared. ‘Is that Mary’s son?’ Lizzie asked.

Danny nodded, grinning. ‘Yes, they both like football.’

‘Polly told me Mrs Williams went up to the school and Tom’s in the team.’

‘Yes, he is,’ Danny said as he looked at the boys. Turning his attention quickly back to Lizzie, he asked after Ethel.

‘She’s still very upset.’ Lizzie wondered why Danny hadn’t said anything about Mrs Williams.

‘Has Ethel settled the problem of the house?’

‘Mrs Ryde wants it sold. She’s offered to have Ethel and the kids.’

He looked surprised. ‘Wouldn’t Ethel be better off with Lil and Doug?’

‘Yes, but their house is too small.’

‘So why doesn’t Ethel find a job?’ Danny asked with a frown. ‘She could get a good one after years of experience with Rickard’s.’

‘It’s a home she needs first,’ Lizzie said, though she had been thinking the same herself.

Danny rubbed his chin thoughtfully. ‘She should talk to Cal. Try to work something out. Richard’s dead and buried. Going to live with his mother won’t bring him
back.’

Or the affection, Lizzie thought sadly, that Ethel once had for Cal.

There were still the odd flurries of ash that blew across the forecourt and Cal watched them now, as he paused, hidden behind the tarpaulin. He could hear Lizzie and Danny
clearly and had been going to go round to greet her. But when Ethel’s name was mentioned, he came to an abrupt halt. It was a quiet day, on the whole, and a sweltering one. He could see the
heat rising up on the horizon in a wavy mist. Even the noises from the river traffic and the whirring and clanking of cranes seemed softened in the high temperatures.

He wiped the sweat that beaded his forehead with the back of his arm. Then, unable to listen to the conversation any longer, he turned away. If what Lizzie said was true, and he didn’t
doubt it, then Ethel really was lost to him. He’d still held out hope for them on that fateful day she’d come to the garage. He’d wanted to face Richard and tell him that he was
in love with his wife. Even though Ethel was trying to end their affair, he’d been sure she would change her mind, once she was away from her husband.

She was the only woman he’d ever loved. He wanted to look after her and protect her. To give her what he’d never had in his own life, true commitment to another person. Then Savage
came along. Everything had changed from the day Leonard Savage walked into Lizzie’s shop and scared the hell out of Ethel.