The Fight for Lizzie Flowers (35 page)

Cal shook his head as he walked slowly to the wharf wall, his broad shoulders slumped. The words that Lizzie had said taunted him. Ethel blamed him for Richard’s death. He’d lost her
to something that had never got started. And he couldn’t deny it had been just a fling at first. But he’d soon begun to know it was more. He’d realized he was jealous of Richard.
Of every moment he spent with Ethel. Of the afternoons she’d had to hurry away to get her husband’s meals. Even of the tidy little suburban house that once, when he’d first come
to England, would have seemed like a prison.

Suddenly he’d wanted all that. And more. For the first time in his life he’d thought about kids. A woman to go home to. And bricks and mortar to live in. Not a dingy room over a
stinking café. And any female he could pay for when the need arose. No, there was no woman for him. Only Ethel.

A tap on his shoulder made him start. ‘You need some help today, mate?’

Cal turned to find Phil and Robert standing there. He tried to draw his thoughts back to the present. But all he could think of was Leonard Savage.

Cal nodded. ‘Yeah. Danny could do with a hand. I’m off now.’

‘Good day to skive,’ Robert agreed with a grin under his beard.

‘Oh, this ain’t skiving, it’s something I’ve got to do,’ Cal said, his voice threaded with anger.

‘What’s that, then?’ Robert enquired uncertainly.

But Cal only shook his head and turned away. He knew what he was going to do. Retribution had been a long time in coming.

But he was taking it now.

Through the shop window Lizzie was watching Polly and her friends in the street. Her long, skinny legs were going ten to the dozen as she jumped the chalked lines on the
pavement. It was a hot August Monday. There was no keeping the kids in the back yard now. There were too many in the school holidays to accommodate. But she supposed there was safety in numbers.
Polly knew if any unfamiliar vehicles appeared, she was to come in straight away.

As Lizzie listened to Fowler and Bert stack the vegetable crates in the storeroom, she saw a cab draw up. The kids all scattered, though when Gertie climbed out, Polly ran to her. Gertie was
soon followed by Bill, the three of them walking slowly across the street to the shop.

‘It’s Granda and Gertie,’ Polly announced excitedly. ‘Look what they give me. A quarter of bull’s-eyes!’

‘That’s nice.’

‘Hello, ducks.’ Gertie kissed Lizzie’s cheek, carefully moving her shopping bag from one arm to the other. ‘And here’s some sherbet dabs, Pol. Now scram and play
with your friends.’

‘It’s lovely to see you,’ Lizzie said as Polly raced back to Georgie March who, having spotted the sweets, was waiting outside. Gertie’s old black coat smelled of
mothballs. Her frizzy grey hair was tucked under a brown beret.

‘Yer, we thought we’d pay a visit.’

Bill greeted Lizzie with a warm smile. Lizzie saw he was wearing his old coster’s coat, tieless shirt and cloth cap. But Gertie must have insisted he wore his pressed suit trousers and
polished black shoes for the outing.

‘You’re looking better, Bill.’

‘I am,’ he replied wheezily. ‘Sorry to land on you like this.’ It had been all of six weeks since she’d last called by Gap End, a fleeting visit after school to
tell them how Frank was. Danny had broken the news about the garage, she knew. But it was rare that Bill and Gertie ever caught a cab and she looked at them uncertainly. ‘I expect
you’ve come to see Frank.’

‘That would be nice,’ Gertie said vaguely. ‘Up and about, is he?’

Lizzie nodded. Bill and Gertie glanced at each other.

‘Is something wrong?’

‘We don’t know. But we wouldn’t trouble you if it wasn’t important.’

‘I’ve got something you need to see.’ Gertie opened the straw bag and closed it again as two customers walked in. ‘Can we go upstairs?’

‘Yes, course. Frank will be pleased to see you. Get him to put the kettle on. When I’ve finished serving I’ll leave Bert and Fowler in the shop and join you.’

As Lizzie watched Bill and Gertie make their way over the shop’s freshly swept floor, she remembered the days when Bill, of a Monday morning, at the crack of dawn, would be heaving the
sacks in from the traders’ carts. It was no mean feat to haul them in at break-neck speed and arrange them in neat rows around the shop. Now she saw two small figures, stooped and
slow-moving.

What was important enough for them to make the journey over here by cab, she wondered?

By the time Lizzie got upstairs, Frank had made the tea. He was talking with Bill and Gertie as they all sat round the kitchen table.

‘You’ve done a fine job on this boy,’ said Bill with a rueful grin at Frank. ‘He’s never looked so good. What you been giving him?’

For the first time Lizzie took a long, studied look at her husband, who she suddenly realized had put on weight during his convalescence. He was wearing his vest and braces and the exercise in
the shop had broadened his shoulders and rounded the muscles in his arms. His skin had lost the yellow pallor that had made him look jaundiced. And his blue eyes were clear, rid of the dark, puffy
pouches that had added years to his appearance.

‘I been living a healthy life, Dad,’ Frank replied as Lizzie took the chair beside Gertie.

‘I’ll say it again,’ Bill continued, ‘you owe your recovery to this girl.’

‘Never a truer word,’ Frank agreed solemnly, glancing at Lizzie.

‘So you’ll be having your marching orders soon.’ Bill looked Frank up and down. ‘Going back to your rooms?’

‘I had to give ’em up as they was costing a fortune.’

‘What about your job at the hospital?’ Bill persisted.

‘Dunno. I ain’t gone out anywhere yet. Got to find me sea legs first.’

‘Well, you won’t find ’em under Lizzie’s feet, that’s for sure.’

Lizzie knew Bill was only trying to help. The old man hadn’t forgotten his son’s true nature. And neither had she.

Everyone fell silent and it was Gertie who spoke next as she opened her bag and drew out a parcel. She placed it carefully on the table.

‘What is it?’ Lizzie looked at the newspapers tied with string.

‘Don’t know.’ Bill shook his grey head. ‘It was delivered this morning by a gent who said he was a friend of yours and could we give it to you.’

‘When I asked why he didn’t deliver it himself,’ Gertie continued, ‘he said he was passing our way and knew where we lived. Then he shook my hand and Bill’s as we
stood on the doorstep. Said what a nice little gaff we had and rode off in his posh car.’

‘What did he look like?’ Lizzie managed to ask, despite the start of a sinking sensation in her tummy.

Gertie shrugged. ‘I’d have said, for all his finery, he was up to no good.’

‘Have you looked inside?’ Frank asked, reaching across and drawing the parcel towards him.

‘No, course not.’

‘Shall I open it?’

Lizzie stopped him. ‘We don’t know what’s in it.’

Frank pulled back his hands.

‘Whatever it is,’ Gertie sensibly commented, ‘it’s been up and down in me bag more times than a whore’s drawers. And it ain’t done me no damage.’

Bill pushed it around the table. ‘It only feels like papers.’

With unsteady fingers, Lizzie pulled on the string.

‘Christ almighty, what’s that!’ Bill exclaimed.

Lizzie stared at the opened sheets of newspaper revealing two buff-coloured envelopes. One held a letter, as yet to be read. The other, a handful of black hair.

‘Is it an ’orse’s?’ asked Gertie.

Lizzie picked up the long, silky strands. ‘I don’t think so.’

‘Then what is it?’ Frank said nervously.

‘It’s human hair.’ Lizzie dropped the hair as though she’d been burned. Even as she said the words, she realized her suspicions were true. The feeling of apprehension
when she’d seen Gertie and Bill arrive was now turning to dread. ‘There’s only one person I know with hair that colour, Cal Bronga.’

‘What, Danny’s mechanic?’ Bill said in surprise.

‘The Aussie?’ Gertie repeated. ‘Are you sure?’

They inspected the hair again. ‘The man who delivered this was Leonard Savage,’ Lizzie explained. ‘The villain who came to the shop and threatened me. The same man who burned
down Danny’s garage and killed Richard Ryde.’

‘So you think Savage has got Cal?’ Frank said in a whisper.

‘If this is Cal’s hair, he must have.’ Lizzie picked up the second envelope. ‘
For Danny Flowers
,’ she read aloud and, replacing it on the table, added,
‘and we’ll only know for certain when Danny opens this letter.’

Once again they all sat in silence, until Lizzie left the kitchen and went to the top of the stairs. ‘Bert, are you there?’ she shouted down. When Bert’s head appeared, she
lowered her voice. ‘Drive over to Danny’s. Tell him I need to see him straight away.’

‘But this is the busiest time of the morning,’ Bert protested.

‘Leave Fowler to serve the customers.’

Bert scratched his head, looking puzzled. ‘What’s all the rush?’

‘Just go, Bert. And on your way out, tell Pol to come in and bring Georgie March with her. They can play out in the yard.’

Bert reluctantly began to peel off his apron. ‘Don’t know what all this fuss is about,’ he muttered under his breath.

‘The quicker you go, the sooner you’ll find out.’

Lizzie walked slowly back to the kitchen. There was no murmur of voices or smiles from the assembled. It was finally dawning on everyone that Leonard Savage had something unpleasant in store for
them.

‘It looks like Cal’s,’ Danny confirmed, staring down at the hair.

‘But what’s it doing in them newspapers?’ Bert said with a frown.

‘Ain’t it obvious, you dumb cluck?’ Gertie snapped. ‘It’s come off his head.’

‘It’d take a bit of manpower to nobble a strong bloke like Cal,’ Bill pointed out.

‘When did you last see Cal?’ Lizzie asked Danny.

‘Yesterday morning, before you arrived. Then, after you left, Phil and Robert turned up to help. Robert said he saw Cal who told them he was pushing off early cos he had something to do. I
was so busy I didn’t think much of it at the time. But God help him if he was off to confront Savage.’

‘Not on his own, he wouldn’t, would he?’ Frank said doubtfully. ‘I mean he’d have to be an idiot not to take muscle.’

Danny stared at his brother. ‘Cal ain’t an idiot. He’s a proud man, a brave one. If he had a grudge to settle he would square it himself.’

‘I’d like to know how this villain found my place,’ Gertie said curiously.

‘He said he knew everything about us,’ Lizzie replied. ‘And that must have meant you and Bill too.’

‘But I’ve never seen the geezer before.’ Bill offered round the wafer-thin cigarettes he’d made. ‘Or that posh motor of his with the cracked windscreen.’

‘Cracked windscreen?’ Danny repeated.

‘Yeah. Like it had been clobbered with a hammer.’

‘When the car hit Richard, its windscreen broke,’ Lizzie said quietly, staring around at the startled faces.

‘Look, this is getting us nowhere.’ Bill waved his hand impatiently. ‘Danny, read the letter, son, and put us all out of our misery.’

Danny opened the buff-coloured envelope. Inside were two sheets of paper. He read from the first. ‘
Flowers, this is my final offer. If you want to see your man again, accept my price
and bring the deeds of your property to my office tonight at ten. Leonard Savage.
’

‘What does he mean by that?’ Bert asked.

Danny unfolded the second sheet. After reading it, he raised his eyes slowly. ‘It’s a contract of sale for the garage. He’s offering me three hundred pounds.’

‘Three hundred!’ everyone repeated.

‘Twice what he offered before.’

‘But you ain’t got no garage now,’ said Bert. ‘He burned the bloody thing down.’

‘He doesn’t want my garage. Like Lizzie says, it’s the land.’

‘He writes it’s his final offer,’ Bill said slowly, ‘and you have to admit, boy, it’s a generous one.’

‘Oh, it’s generous all right. But he could double it or treble it for all I care. I’m not selling.’

‘But he’s got Cal,’ Bert said through the smoke that was polluting the air.

‘That’s blackmail,’ Bill said indignantly. ‘He’s trying to force your hand.’

Danny stared at the paper in front of him, then dropped it to the table. He leaned back against the chair and said, ‘He’s trying all right. That’s why he knocked on your door
and asked you to give the parcel to Lizzie. He wanted to let me know that you and Gertie and Lizzie are in as much danger as Cal. It’s blackmail and he has all the cards.’

‘We can’t let him do this, Danny.’ Lizzie was fighting the anger that, after the shock, had begun to fill her.

Danny stood up and slowly paced the kitchen. Then suddenly he stopped. ‘I’m going to meet him tonight.’

‘What?’ Bill stared up at his son in surprise. ‘You’re selling?’

‘No, Dad. Not if I can help it.’

‘Then what’s your plan?’ Frank asked.

‘I’ll say I want double that figure.’

‘What, six hundred quid!’ Bill exclaimed. ‘That’s a fortune.’

‘If he wants it that bad, he’ll pay up. Remember, he knows quite well that with my signature on that document his ownership can’t be contested. I’ll tell him to come over
to the shelter tomorrow night with Cal and the cash. We’ll make the exchange and he gets what he wants – or so he thinks.’

Once again, no one spoke.

‘So what happens then?’ Lizzie finally asked.

‘I’ll be waiting, but not on my own. First thing tomorrow I’m going to Limehouse to see my friend Bray.’

‘What? You’re going to the law?’ Bill said disbelievingly.

‘I’ve got evidence now, Dad. Hard evidence.’ Danny waved the letters in the air. ‘Savage made a big mistake. He’s admitting in writing to extortion and blackmail.
And the cash in his pocket will be the icing on the cake.’

‘Do you reckon the copper will listen?’ Bill asked doubtfully. ‘He ain’t been no friend to you.’

‘No, but when he knows I can give him Savage on a plate and provide the proof for a long stretch, he’d be a fool to refuse.’