Lily’s War (3 page)

Lily smiled. ‘You look different without the habit.’

‘So I keep getting told but it’s too Catholic for a meeting like this,’ he said ruefully. ‘You’d be surprised, though, how warm and comfortable it is for outdoor work.’ He released her hand. ‘I’ll have to go. I hope to see you later.’

Lily murmured agreement and watched his black-clad figure go to the front of the hall. There was nothing tall, dark and handsome about him but he definitely had something and she could agree with Mrs Draper about the voice. She was looking forward to hearing him speak.

First, though, they had to suffer the singing. A woman began to bash out music on an upright piano. ‘Jesus died for all the children, all the children of the world, red and yellow, black and white …’ Several sang louder than the preacher but Lily could pick his voice out. There were two more hymns and then Richard, the curate from the mother church, welcomed them all before introducing their visitor as a man who had been doing God’s work in southern India. There was an expectant hush.

Matt Gibson stood on stage and opened a black leather-covered Bible. ‘Though I speak with the tongues of men and angels and have not charity, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal. And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries, and all knowledge; and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains and have not charity, I am nothing …’

His voice had risen and Lily felt a delicious shiver run through her. This was sheer poetry! ‘And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor – and give my body to be burned, and have not charity, it profiteth me nothing …’ His tone was impassioned and had speeded up. ‘Charity suffereth long, and is kind, it beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things.’ His voice dropped to a silken whisper. ‘Faith, hope, charity … but the greatest of these is charity.’

His reading had set the mood and there was a breathless silence as he closed the Bible.

‘Is your neighbour hard to love?’

‘Not ’arf!’ exclaimed someone. ‘Him and her are always going at each other, fist and tongue!’

‘Shush!’ said several people.

Matthew smiled. ‘Well, sister, if you can’t love them I’m wasting my time here because you won’t be able to care for those in India.’ He paused. ‘India is a vast, beautiful country which has a population that runs into many millions. Many are poorer than any you might meet in the filthiest court in Liverpool. There are actually people called the Untouchables.’ He paused. ‘These are as much your neighbours as the person living next to you.’ His gaze reached out, seeming to touch them all, met Lily’s. She smiled without thinking and one corner of his mouth lifted. ‘Our Lord Jesus would touch them just as He did the lepers in with rags and sores. But He has passed into the heavens and we are his hands and feet on earth. It is our duty and privilege to take hope to others.’ His voice softened. ‘Which is why I am here to tell you how the church is doing just that in India.’ He jumped off stage. The lights dimmed.

He talked of the past and the Syrian church taking the gospel to India hundreds of years ago, just as the Jews took Judaism – and of the present, of Indian Christians taking over the leadership of the churches as the country strove for independence. His enthusiasm and knowledge stimulated interest and excitement but he did not forget the children and slotted in slides of monkeys, tigers, and elephants bathing. He spoke of Rudyard Kipling, telling funny stories that not only made the children laugh but the adults too. There was information about Hindu and Moslem ways of birth, marriage and death. It was all highly entertaining and when the collection plate came round it was obvious he had not wasted his time. He was thanked and clapped and it was over.

Lily did not move. Here was a different world, a different man. She glanced in his direction. He was surrounded by people. There seemed little chance of the pair of them getting to speak.

‘Well?’ Mrs Draper popped up beside Lily, her eyes sparkling beneath the brim of a black straw hat. ‘Wasn’t he wonderful? Didn’t he bring India alive? I could almost feel the heat and the flies!’

May opened her mouth but Lily clapped a hand over it. ‘I don’t want you saying anything about flies and dirt. You and Ronnnie go and wait by the door.’ For a moment she watched them dart among groups of chattering people before turning to the old lady. ‘Where is he staying? Will he be preaching on Sunday?’

‘He’s in great demand and so is off somewhere else. It’s not often you manage to get a speaker from India. Africa, now, that’s more common.’

Lily tried to conceal her disappointment. ‘I would have liked to hear him speak again.’

‘A treat, my dear. What a pity you missed him in church last Sunday.’ Mrs Draper moved towards the exit and Lily had no choice but to follow if she was not to appear rude. ‘He could be back,’ added the old lady. ‘His father was from Liverpool and he wants to trace an aunt.’

‘Can Anglican brothers marry?’

‘I think they can, my dear. Although most choose celibacy and dedicate themselves to God.’

Lily glanced over in Brother Matthew’s direction but there was a number of women crowded round him. No hope for her, she thought wryly, and made for the door where May was hopping about just inside and people were having to dodge around her.

‘Can’t you behave for five minutes?’ Lily seized hold of her and cast a last glance the preacher’s way.

Mrs Draper chattered all the way to her front door but Lily hardly heard a word. Her thoughts were in India. The sight of Daisy dancing in the street with a young man brought her back to the present. ‘What d’you think you’re doing?’ She eyed the young man who hastily removed his cloth cap.

‘We haven’t been here long, Lil,’ said Daisy. ‘Cyril just brought me home from dancing class and we were practising the foxtrot.’

‘This isn’t the Grafton, you know,’ she said with mock severity to the young man. ‘Don’t keep her out here long or she’ll catch her death.’

As Lily and the children entered the kitchen Ben lifted his dark head from a book. ‘Dad’s gone out. Frank Jones came to see you and they went out together.’

The magic of the evening evaporated and Lily slammed her handbag on the table, her mouth tightening. ‘If he comes in drunk, I’ll have Frank! If I’ve told him once I’ve told him a dozen times that getting round Dad won’t make a pennyworth of difference to me! I’m not at my last prayers and I’d rather go out with a toad than him!’ She shrugged off her coat, put on the kettle and took a nightdress and a pair of pyjamas from the cupboard next to the fireplace, hanging them over the fireguard. ‘You didn’t tell him where we’d gone?’

‘Dad did and they both agreed they didn’t want to go and listen to any prissy-voiced missionary.’ Ben yawned. ‘Their words, Lil. Was he any good?’

‘You’d have found it interesting,’ she said blandly.

‘We saw elephants,’ said Ronnie, rubbing his hands on the warm fireguard. ‘They were spouting water from their trunks. He’s ridden on one.’

‘What’s prissy?’ asked May, pushing Ben’s book aside and climbing on his knee.

‘Hard to explain, Maysie. Your face is cold.’ He hugged her to him. ‘Did you like the elephants?’

‘I liked him. His voice was nice. Sometimes it reminded me of bells and sometimes water. It rose and fell and sometimes stayed in one line.’

Ben caught Lily’s glance as she spooned cocoa into a jug. ‘He’s made a convert.’

‘Probably made more than one.’ Her voice was offhand. ‘He’s been shot at, caught up in a riot and nearly trampled to death.’

‘Sounds an adventurous life for a missionary.’

Lily caught the envy in his voice and she said hurriedly, ‘You wouldn’t go off like some and fight in Spain just for a bit of adventure, would you, Ben? Thousands have died out there.’

He yawned. ‘Not on your life! I get all my excitement in the Territorials. Besides, how would you cope without me?’

‘I couldn’t!’ Lily kissed the top of his head, wondering if he ever resented taking on the job that had been their father’s. Albert was still supposed to handle the reins for Ben, making the job of carting foodstuffs for cattle and horses easier, but too often he was left alone to cope. ‘What did Uncle William say about Dad not turning up again?’

‘Made allowances for him as usual.’ He put on a deep voice. ‘Can’t be much fun having one leg, lad. Tell him the horse is missing him and that should get him here.’

‘And did you?’

‘He brought out a photo of a horse and cart all decked up for the May Day celebrations. Quite cheerful for him for once. Not that it lasted. Next moment he’s going on about this horse he’d seen drown in mud at Passchendaele.’

‘I hate mud,’ chipped in May, her voice drowsy. ‘And sand down me drawers.’

‘Shush,’ said Lily, easing her sister to her feet. ‘Ben, did you put the oven shelf in?’

He nodded as the door opened and Daisy entered, bringing a breath of cold air with her. ‘He’s gone.’

‘I didn’t think he’d still be hanging about outside,’ said Lily. ‘Where did you find him?’

Daisy grinned. ‘I know he’s not much to look at but he really can dance.’ She placed a cup next to the ones Ronnie was filling with cocoa and sighed soulfully. ‘He’s got this brother who’s an absolute dream but can’t dance for toffee. He’s asked me out to see Freddie Bartholomew at the Hippodrome. What am I do do, Lil?’

‘Don’t ask me!’ Lily smiled. ‘It’s obvious you can’t prefer one over the other or you wouldn’t be asking such a question. I’d find someone else.’

Daisy sat near the fire. ‘How did your evening go? Was the preacherman worth listening to?’

‘You missed a treat.’

‘You’re having me on.’

Lily smiled and folded May’s clothes. Then she remembered her father and went through into the street but there was no sign of him.

No sooner had they drunk their cocoa and Ben had vanished upstairs with the younger children than there was a commotion outside. The sisters hurried to the door.

‘Pack up yer troubles in yer old kit bag,’ mumbled Albert from a sprawling position on the pavement.

Frank tried to lift him but to no avail. There was an apprehensive smile on his moonlike face as he relinquished his hold on Albert and gazed at Lily. ‘You’re looking pretty tonight, Lil.’

She felt irritated. ‘I don’t need any flannel from you,’ she hissed. ‘And keep your voice down or you’ll have the neighbours out!’

‘His leg just slid out from underneath him,’ he whispered. ‘It’s not my fault!’

‘Of course it’s your fault! What were you thinking of, taking him out? You’ve got more money than sense!’ She bent over her father.

‘I felt sorry for him,’ he said placatingly. ‘But I bought him only one drink. It was some of the others who got him legless. Ooops! Sorry, Lil.’

She bit back a fiery retort. ‘His artificial knee’s probably locked. You get his legs. Me and Daisy’ll take his head and shoulders … and don’t drop him!’

Frank complied quickly. ‘No, Lil. I only had a couple of halves.’

‘You don’t have to go on making excuses. Just lift.’

‘Up and over. Keep yer head down,’ mumbled Albert, sagging heavily in their grasp.

They carried him inside and set him down on the sofa. Lily straightened. ‘Thanks, Frank. But if you ever get him drunk again, don’t dare put your head through our door. Now out!’

‘Not even a cup of tea, Lil?’ He twisted his trilby nervously between his hands. ‘I did want to speak to you.’

‘I’ll make a cuppa,’ offered Daisy.

Lily frowned at her sister. ‘We’ve got to see to Dad.’

‘Sorry.’ Daisy smiled at Frank to soften the blow. ‘I’ll see you to the door.’

He sighed, placed the trilby on his thinning mousy hair and followed her out.

Lily turned to her father and experienced an unfamiliar sense of helplessness. If only her mother had lived, she just knew he would never have got into this state. She began to unbutton his trousers.

Daisy re-entered the room. ‘You are cruel to Frank. I’m sure he wants to marry you.’

‘So he does but I don’t want to marry him. Besides his mother would never allow it while she’s alive. She’d sell the fruit shop first so he wouldn’t have a penny to bless himself with.’

‘She’s an old bitch. I feel sorry for him.’

‘He should stand up for himself,’ said Lily firmly, undoing the straps around her father’s shoulder and waist that held the artificial leg in place. Blood showed through the sock on his stump. ‘Poor ol’ thing,’ she said softly. ‘He’s been going it too much.’ Removing the sock she ordered her sister to get the medicine box. ‘He’ll have to leave his leg off.’

‘At least it’ll stop him wandering.’

Lily chafed her father’s cold hands. ‘Here we go round the mulberry bush, the mulberry bush, the mulberry bush,’ he mumbled.

The two sisters exchanged looks. ‘You wonder what’s going on inside his head,’ said Daisy, opening the box.

‘Nothing that does him any good. Once I’ve put something on that sore we’ll leave him here. I’m not struggling upstairs and I don’t want to disturb Ben.’

Daisy fetched a couple of blankets. Lily sprinkled boracic powder on the sore and bandaged it before covering her father with a blanket and making sure the fireguard was secure.

As Lily said her prayers Brother Matthew was in her thoughts. If they met again she would have to make him sit up and take more notice of her. She snuggled up to May and when she fell asleep, dreamed of riding a bejewelled elephant with her arm around the preacher’s waist.

Albert was driving Lily mad. His sore stump was taking its time healing because he had defied her more than once by strapping on his leg and going to the pub. Even with only a few pence in his pocket he managed to get drunk. While the effects of the drink were on him the pain did not seem to bother him but the next day he was full of moans. Last night she had hidden his leg.

‘Where is it?’ Albert banged his fist on the shop counter.

‘Where’s what?’ said Lily, wide-eyed and innocent-looking. She removed a tray half-filled with eggs from near his hand.

‘My leg, damn you! Don’t come that with me, girl. I’m still your father and I’ll have some respect!’