The Fight for Lizzie Flowers (8 page)

‘You’ll have to wait and see.’

‘Tell me about the Christmas when Uncle Danny drove you and all the Allens to Granda’s for a party.’

Lizzie smiled as Polly’s head fell against her shoulder. ‘You’ve heard the story dozens of times.’

‘Tell it again, Auntie Lizzie.’

‘Well, it was Christmas afternoon as I’ve told you, a long time before you were born. Uncle Danny arrived at Langley Street where the Allen family lived and where Auntie Flo and
Uncle Syd now live.’

‘I’ve got a lot of uncles and aunties, ain’t I?’

Lizzie laughed. ‘Yes, the Allens are a big family. Now, it was the end of 1920 and Uncle Danny was about to leave England to seek his fortune in Australia. But before he left, your Granda
gave a big party at Ebondale Street, where he lived in the airey below our shop. All the market traders turned up and some of Granda’s friends and neighbours—’

‘And you all had a knees-up.’

Lizzie laughed again. ‘You know this story as well as I do.’

‘You taught me the words to the song you sang.’

‘Do you remember them?’

‘Yes, but you sing it better than me.’

Lizzie stroked Polly’s hair. ‘“If those lips could only speak, if those eyes could only see,”’ Lizzie sang softly and Polly’s little voice joined in. As they
sang together, the memory of happier times warmed her. The years before Danny had sailed out of her life and the Allens were all still living at Langley Street.

‘Was my mum beautiful, Auntie Lizzie?’ Polly asked when they’d finished singing.

‘Yes, very. As beautiful as you.’

‘I wouldn’t mind if she took me to the park again,’ Polly mumbled sleepily, ‘but she’d have to promise to bring me home. I don’t want to go back to that funny
house and sit with them ladies in their drawers again.’

Lizzie wrapped her arms tighter around Polly. This was a memory, thank God, that was growing vague in Polly’s mind. A drunken escapade, down to Babs and Vinnie, an event that Lizzie hoped
would dull with time. Polly’s stay at the brothel had been brief, but alarming. The hazardous ride afterwards in Vinnie’s car had only been brought to an end by Danny’s quick
thinking. Lizzie felt her skin grow clammy as she remembered how close Polly had come to disaster.

She listened to the sound of Polly’s soft snore lost in the rattling of the vehicle. What did the future hold for this child? How was she to protect her?

Three months later

Danny surveyed his kingdom: the garage and the forecourt that backed onto Morley’s Wharf. Beyond this, the eyesore of a derelict factory, occupied by a group of river
men. Danny liked to see the ragged children playing on the mudflats. He often threw them a tanner as they scampered over the dock walls. Sometimes, after he shut shop, there would be an accordion
playing or a mouth organ and he and Tom would join the community at their fire. They’d take bread and cheese and pickled onions with them. And in return, enjoy a mugful of hot broth, stewed
in a pot over the brazier. Tom enjoyed the freedom of being away from his lessons and playing on the wharf with the rag-tag children. Very soon friendships had been forged. The poignant strains of
the music would rise up under the deep blue sky and Danny would think of his youth as he gazed into the hot embers of the brazier. His life as a barrow boy had not been so different to this. The
law had moved him on more times than he’d had hot dinners. He’d been jeered at and ridiculed for his lowly trade. He’d had Bill pushing him one way and the coppers the other. But
he’d always kept his dream safe in his heart of one day making good.

And now that day had come. It had taken every penny of his capital to buy this pitch and make it his own. But he’d seen the potential and knew this land had been marked out for him.
Business was booming. He’d won a contract with the Port of London Authority and was making a name for himself.

He breathed in deeply, savouring the sights and smells of his turf. His patch. He’d spent ten years of his life in the dark of the mines, waiting for this. Not that he’d ever guessed
he was destined to own a scrubby patch of waterside land back in England!

Now on this late March morning, he couldn’t help thinking back to the events of Christmas last year. His brother returning to life. Their father’s sudden illness. And the distance
that had grown between him and Lizzie since.

And the law was still breathing down his neck. Bobbies passing his way and taking ganders at his vehicles. But what could Bray prove that wasn’t true? Nevertheless, the taste in his mouth
was bitter.

Danny’s eyes roamed over the scene before him. His ears caught the harmonies of the river; the hoots of the boats and barges and the grind and rattle of the cranes and factories. He felt
like a king here. It was only when he remembered his separation from Lizzie and Pol that his spirits sank.

‘Looks like a bonza day, mate.’ Cal Bronga approached, having parked his vehicle beside the garage. Cal grinned, showing his even white teeth. ‘And the ockers told me it always
rained on the other side of the world.’

‘The East End is the best of British, Cal. Anyone who denies it is a fool,’ Danny agreed. He gestured to the towering vehicle he had just parked on the forecourt. ‘Let me
introduce you to London Transport’s S-type double-decker. Open top, bit of a wreck. She needs new tyres and a full service.’

‘We taking the whole fleet?’

Danny laughed. ‘We’d be set up for life if we did. No, this old girl is out of action for the general public. We’re to fit her up before they use her to mend the trolleybus
overhead wires. Her bosses may even turn her into a canteen.’

‘Why choose us?’ Cal asked with a frown.

‘I gave the omnibus company a quote. We came out the cheapest. And we have the facilities.’

‘First bus I’ve worked on. I hope we know what we’re doing.’ Cal gave a low chuckle. ‘Cos I don’t know one end of her from the other.’

Danny clapped his friend on the back. ‘We’ll soon find out. And hopefully, she’ll be the first of many. Come on, we’ll get changed into our togs and sort her
out.’

Cal looked at Danny as they walked across the gravel to the doors of the workshop. ‘You heard from your old man?’

Danny’s face clouded. ‘In the pink since Frank’s been visiting.’

Danny regretted the dismay in his voice, but it was hard to disguise. They walked into the interior of the warehouse and towards the wooden staircase that led up to the office. Danny jumped two
stairs at a time, hoping Cal wouldn’t press the subject. He knew Cal’s interest in Bill was genuine. But after Christmas things had headed rapidly downhill. The long-lost son had
returned, reformed in every way.

Danny reached up for the key to the office, balanced on the ledge above the door, and let them in. He peeled off his donkey jacket and shirt. He knew Cal was staring at him curiously, so he
turned, heaving a sigh of resignation. ‘I reckon Gertie bungs Frank a few quid. She says he’s got rooms in Poplar.’

‘Ain’t that asking for trouble?’ Cal remarked.

Danny grunted his agreement. ‘As long as Frank stays out of my way, I’m happy.’

Cal put the kettle on to boil and placed two chipped enamel mugs side by side on the shelf. ‘You should move in with your girl.’

‘I would, if it was down to me.’

Cal placed two steaming mugs of tea on the desk between the overflowing piles of paper. ‘You seen that copper’s motor again?’

Danny nodded. ‘Once or twice.’

‘He couldn’t make the frame stick as much as he tried.’

‘Yeah, but he’s done enough damage,’ Danny pointed out. ‘Me and Lizzie ain’t been the same since. It’s like he put the mockers on us. Saying we was out to get
Frank and planned it all.’

‘Give her time, mate.’

‘Yeah, but how much?’

‘What’s your dad’s take on all this?’

Danny gave a low sigh as he shook his head. ‘He’s rewriting history. Convinced Frank’s a changed man. In Lizzie’s eyes it makes me look as though it’s me in the
wrong.’

‘She knows better than to believe that.’

Danny shrugged. ‘Does she? I don’t know any more.’

‘Man, you’re letting this get to you.’

Danny looked up under his pleated blond eyebrows. ‘You might be right. But I can’t get Lizzie to talk to me. Not about things that matter. When I ask her what she wants to do, she
says we’ll wait. See how things work out. Well, I know how they’ll work out if we don’t do something to change the situation. Lizzie and Pol will live over the shop. Me and Tom
will stay at Terrace Street. I asked her to come away with us next month so we could spend some time together. But she says she can’t afford to leave the business.’ He shook his head in
puzzlement.

‘She’s not had hassle from Frank, has she?’

‘Not that I know of Danny took a heavy breath. ‘Anyway. Enough of my troubles. Let’s get down to business. Move the motors around downstairs.’ He gave a rueful smile.
‘We’ve still got the bills to pay.’

Cal reached for the vehicle keys that were hanging on the row of nails driven into the office wall. Running back down the wooden stairs, Danny heard his friend start up the first vehicle parked
over the inspection pit.

Danny took a deep breath, searched in his pocket for his cigarettes and remembered he hadn’t stopped to buy any. Going to the small cupboard on the wall, he pulled out his tobacco tin and
papers. As he rolled himself a smoke his thoughts went to Lizzie again. Then his dad and inevitably to Frank. They chased round in his head until they collided in one big cloud of anxiety. He
didn’t believe a leopard could change its spots. No more than an evil man could become a saint overnight. Judas had proved that point and he had been Jesus’s best mate. But his dad
believed the story Frank had concocted about a stint in an asylum. The miracle cause of his redemption. The old man now insisted that, given time, Frank would turn into the son he had always
believed Frank could be. But in Danny’s book, it was some rare form of electrocution that could cause a man to repent and change his lifelong characteristics.

He placed a thin roll-up between his lips, lit up and closed his eyes as he inhaled. Frank had always been lazy, dishonest and two-faced. But Danny had accepted this as a kid. He’d tried
to steer Frank away from the trouble he courted. Why in heaven’s name then, Danny thought for the hundredth time, had he believed Frank would do the right thing by Lizzie while he was in
Australia? Madness, that’s what it was. Or perhaps – and more honestly – he had deliberately turned a blind eye to Frank’s potential for mischief.

Just then, Danny heard a shout from downstairs.

He moved quickly to the interior window. Below, Cal had driven the two motors parked over the pit to the rear of the garage. The timber boards covering the cellar had been lifted away. A dull
light gleamed.

‘What’s up?’ Danny yelled as he left the office to lean over the balustrade of the wooden stairs.

Cal emerged slowly from the cellar. ‘Our tools have gone walkabout. Someone’s cleaned us out!’

Danny’s jaw fell open as he stood in the musty-smelling cellar they used as a workshop. It was empty. From the smallest of items fitted to the shelves lining the surface of the bench to
the floor. His lathes, drills, braces and vices were gone. His entire booty from Aussie. His hard-earned investment. His wherewithal to perform his work. Every tool, freshly coated with oil and
grease, had disappeared. Down to the last screw. To the last tack. Even the engine hoist, its chains and couplings.

‘They’ve nicked everything,’ Cal said unnecessarily, his voice full of incredulity. ‘I couldn’t believe my own eyes.’

Danny stared at the naked walls, the oily sawdust on the floor. The sight was unbelievable. They had been robbed, overnight, of everything vital to the business. It was as if someone had sucked
up every item and replaced the thick timber boards overhead, leaving no indication of a wholesale robbery.

‘It’s not some chancer,’ Danny decided. ‘Whoever it was, they planned it. They had to move the two vans to get down to the cellar. How the hell did they do
that?’

Cal shook his dark head. ‘The keys were locked in the office. You saw me take them just now.’

‘Whoever they are, they’re clever.’

‘And found the key on the ledge above the door.’

‘Yeah, but they’d have had to get in the garage first. And only me and you can unlock the big doors.’

Danny was trying to think rationally, but he was consumed with anger. There had to be a motive, other than thievery. ‘An amateur would have used a crowbar to get in, smashed the motor
windows and pushed them off the boards. This job was so neat and tidy it looks as if they’ve swept up behind them. Why bother to put the timbers back and reverse the motors into
place?’

‘You’re right,’ Cal agreed after some thought. ‘It’s like someone’s sending a message.’

‘This has Ferreter’s trademark.’

‘But he’s banged up,’ nodded Cal.

‘Must have been a few of them,’ Danny murmured. ‘The engine hoist alone needs muscle.’

‘Have you checked on the store out back?’

‘Jesus, no!’

Danny leaped the steps of the cellar, his head and heart banging like drums. He was drowning in sweat. The thought of someone getting into his store was almost more than he could bear.

They reached the rear of the garage together but it was Danny who was first to climb through the small opening to the store. He’d locked the Nissen hut with a heavy chain
that secured the iron bar. But something looked wrong. It was as if there was one small detail of the picture that he didn’t see. A detail that sent a message to his brain and forced
adrenalin through his veins.

The muscles in his legs felt like wood. His stomach turned with force as Cal paused breathlessly beside him.

‘Something’s wrong,’ Danny said, narrowing his eyes.

‘The lock’s
in situ
,’ Cal replied with clear relief. ‘No one’s got in there.’

‘It’s wrong,’ Danny insisted, staring at the chain that he himself had padlocked the night before. ‘It looks wrong.’