Lizzie of Langley Street (17 page)

‘No. But he said he’d write.’

‘Yeah, he won’t let you down, gel, not Danny.’

Every morning, as soon as she woke, Lizzie wondered where Danny was and what he was doing. Had the boat got to Italy? Had he managed to find another one to Australia?

‘Well, I’d better get cracking,’ Lil sighed. ‘Ethel’s coming over with Tim and Rosie for tea. I’ll pop in and say hello to yer Pa tomorrow whilst yer at the
shop.’

Lizzie watched Lil go. A deep pang went through her for Ma. She missed the quiet chats they used to have and the stories Ma would tell her. She missed not being able to confide her feelings
about Danny. She wished that she could walk right back in and find Kate standing at the sink, telling her the kettle was on and it would soon be time for a cuppa.

Lizzie had plans for the afternoon. She was going up to the ladies at the House to ask about a wage for Babs. Talking to Lil had made up her mind. She wasn’t going to put
it off any longer.

Before she left, she took a tray of food in to her father. ‘I think Babs should be paid a wage,’ she told him. ‘I’m going up to have a word with the ladies.’

‘Take the key off the string,’ he told her. ‘I don’t want no one coming in.’

‘Why don’t you come with me, then?’

‘Me legs are giving me gyp,’ he muttered, turning his chair to face the window.

Well, it was up to him, she told herself as she plaited her thick black hair, put on Ethel’s hat and combed out the curls on her forehead.

It was bright and breezy outside; all the washing would be dry when she got back. What would Miss Hailing say when she asked for money, she wondered? She wasn’t asking for charity. It was
a puzzle as to why the ladies hadn’t offered to pay Babs before. Lizzie felt within her rights to ask, but even so, she didn’t like having to.

The gates of the rope factory were closed. A queue of men stood at the entrance waiting for work. Times were hard and the poor and hungry waited days on end for work. Bert was lucky to have the
job at the shop. Would she rather see Vinnie lined up here or working for the bookie? Ma had always said you couldn’t feed a family or pay the rent on principles. Was that why she had always
accepted Vinnie’s money?

Hailing House was a large red-brick property set back from the road. Twice weekly it opened its doors to the community. Men, women and children queued on the pavement outside for their bowl of
soup. ‘The Slummers’, as the ladies were known, returned to their country seats at the weekend, having done their good work.

Lizzie had gone to the House with Ma, to attend the sewing classes. It was a treat to be welcomed by Alice the maid and escorted to the sewing room at the back of the House, where all the women
of the island would gather for the busy sessions.

Lizzie walked up the wide, spotlessly clean steps. She gave two sharp raps on the brass knocker. When the door opened Babs stood there.

‘What are you doing here?’ Babs demanded. She wore a blue corduroy dress and a pair of shiny black patent shoes. Her red hair was pulled neatly back from her face and tied in a
ribbon.

‘I thought you helped in the kitchens,’ Lizzie burst out. ‘‘Why are you dressed like that?’

‘None of yer business,’ Babs retorted. ‘What do you want?’

‘I’ve come to see Miss Hailing.’

‘Well you can’t. The ladies are very busy.’

‘Well then I’ll wait.’

‘You can’t do that either. Not looking like that.’

‘What did you just say?’ Lizzie stared at her sister.

‘You’re a disgrace coming here,’ Babs hissed. ‘Look at the state of you. I could lose me job over this, you selfish cow.’

‘Elizabeth, is that you?’ A voice called from inside.

Babs spun round. ‘Miss Annabelle!’

Annabelle Hailing appeared, dressed in a fluffy grey jumper and cardigan. A row of pearls hung round her neck. She wore an elegant wool skirt over silk stockings and fashionable leather
shoes.

‘Lizzie ain’t stopping, Miss Annabelle,’ Babs said quickly. ‘She was just passin’. I happened to see her from the window and thought I’d say hello.’

‘I’m sure you’ve time for a cup of tea, Lizzie,’ Annabelle said, opening the door wide. ‘Please come in and leave your coat with Barbara.’

‘Oh, I won’t stop long.’

‘Barbara, tell Alice we have a guest. A pot of tea for two would be very welcome. Oh yes, and some of Cook’s excellent sponge cake, I think. We’ll sit in the drawing room by
the fire.’

Lizzie followed Annabelle, ignoring the look of horror on Babs’ face. Why had Babs said she had seen her outside? And what was she doing all dressed up in uniform?

The drawing room had high white ceilings and long, elegant windows. A red velvet couch stood in one corner. The deep red material was the same colour as the drapes. A rose-coloured rug lay over
the floor, its edges laced with a fringe. Lizzie thought it looked as though someone had carefully combed it out each day. The antique furniture was all highly polished and sparkling.

‘How is the family?’ Annabelle asked as they sat down in the large fireside chairs.

Lizzie explained about Pa’s depression and a little bit about Danny sailing for Australia and finally leading to her job at Flowers.

‘Oh, I can understand now why you and Flo didn’t come to the Christmas party,’ she said. ‘You must have been very busy indeed.’

Lizzie stared at Annabelle. They had never been invited to the party. Or had they?

‘Ah, here’s tea.’ Annabelle smiled. Though Alice had grey hair, she had a fresh, round face. On the tray were white bone china cups, saucers and side plates, silver forks and
spoons wrapped in napkins. On the silver stand was a delicious looking sponge cake.

When Alice had gone, Annabelle cut the cake. ‘I can assure you, Cook’s recipe won’t come anywhere near the high standards of your friend Lil.’

Lizzie wasn’t thinking about cake. She was furiously planning what she was going to say to Babs. It was because of Babs they hadn’t gone to the Christmas party. But what came next
was the biggest shock of all, as she heard Annabelle continuing, ‘As you know, Barbara has been asked if she would like to replace Alice, who is retiring. And because Barbara has taken so
well to the job, Felicity and I thought it only fair to increase her wage . . . perhaps another two shillings, to four shillings a week?’

‘J
ames will drive you home,’ Annabelle insisted.

Lizzie tried to smile but she was furious. Babs had been earning two shillings a week since Ma died. And she had never said a word. The devious cow.

‘I’ve two parcels for you,’ Annabelle was telling her. ‘My young nieces have grown out of their clothes. I thought they might be of some use.’ She rang the bell and
Alice appeared. ‘Tell James to bring the car to the front of the house, please, Alice.’

They walked to the front door. ‘James will carry the parcels for you.’

‘Thank you,’ Lizzie said as she left. James was waiting by the big black motor car. He opened the door and she climbed in.

Lizzie had never been in a car before, let alone one driven by a chauffeur. If she could stop being so angry, she told herself, she might enjoy it.

The seat was real leather. The windows were gleaming. The car didn’t seem to be moving it was so smooth. The streets went whizzing by. Everything smelled new.

‘Are you comfortable, Miss?’ James looked in the driving mirror.

‘Yes, thank you.’

‘If you want to open the window, you just turn that handle on the door.’

She wound down the window but soon closed it as the smell of the pickle factory poured in. The dock gates flashed by, then row upon row of dirty houses. When James brought the car to a halt
Lizzie glanced at the neighbours’ windows to see if anyone was watching.

James opened the car door and helped her out. ‘Where would you like the parcels?’ he asked.

‘Inside the front door, thank you.’

Just then Flo rushed out from the house. ‘Lizzie, who’s that? What’s he got? What’s in them parcels?’

Lizzie put her hands on Flo’s shoulders. ‘Some new clothes from the ladies.’

‘Did you have a ride in that car?’ Flo squeaked. ‘Can I have one too?’

‘No, you can’t.’

‘Oh, I think we could manage once round the block,’ James said with shrug.

Flo jumped up and down, clapping her hands.

‘Behave yourself, now. Sit nice and quietly. James don’t want a chatterbox putting him off his driving.’

James extended his hand and Flo went scarlet as he helped her into the rear of the car. Lizzie’s mind was on Babs as she waved to Flo. What if she had asked Annabelle about paying Babs a
wage? It would have been embarrassment all round.

‘Whose car is that?’ her father shouted as she walked in.

‘The ladies’, Pa. James gave me a ride home.’ Lizzie put her ear to the door. ‘Can I come in?’ She wanted to talk to him about Babs.

‘No, I’m trying to have a kip.’

She knew it was useless. It would be up to her to have it out with Babs. When the big black car came round the corner, Vi’s curtains were twitching and all the kids in the road were
staring.

‘How fast did you go, Lizzie? We went twenty miles an hour. We could have gone faster. But we didn’t case we ran someone over.’

‘Did you wave to everyone?’ They were up in the bedroom with the parcels and Flo’s cheeks were pink.

‘Yeah. Sammy Baker blew me a raspberry.’

‘Cheeky devil.’

‘I bet old Vi’s eyes popped out of her head when she saw me getting out of a posh car like that. When I grow up I’m gonna marry a sh . . . sho . . .’

‘Chauffeur,’ smiled Lizzie.

‘When he opened the door, he said, “Hup you go, miss.” I ain’t never been spoken to like that before. And nobody ain’t ever bowed to me. His eyes went all sort of
funny under that hat. Look, I’ll show you!’ Flo strode round the bedroom with stiff arms and legs.

‘You’re a card, Flo Allen.’ Lizzie laughed. ‘You should be on the stage.’

‘I’m gonna be.’ Flo threw herself on the bed. ‘I’m gonna be an actress, or a singer or a dancer.’

‘And don’t forget to marry a chauffeur too.’

‘Yeah. And I’m gonna have a car like that one day. When I get as famous as Charlie Chaplin, I’m gonna buy a house of me own. Over the water in Blackheath where Tim and Rosie
live. You and Babs can come for the ’olidays. Just as long as you all mind yer ps and qs.’ Flo bounced up and down beside the parcels. ‘Go on, open it quick, Lizzie.’

Lizzie untied the string, and dresses, jerseys, skirts, underwear, stockings and blouses spilled out. The next half hour was spent trying them on. A blue dress with a lace collar and a party
frock of white linen with leg of mutton sleeves and a wide blue cummerbund were both Flo’s size. Two warm winter jerseys, a long skirt of blue serge and a grey wool coat fitted Lizzie. She
undid the row of grey buttons down the front. The smooth black velvet collar matched the turned back cuffs.

‘Look what I’ve found,’ cried Flo. ‘Just what I always wanted. Shoes with straps.’ She kicked off her boots and slid on the black patent shoes. ‘They’ll
fit perfect with a bit of newspaper down the front.’

Lizzie shook out a yellow dress. ‘This will fit Babs.’

‘She don’t like yellow,’ Flo said darkly. ‘It don’t go with red hair.’

‘Well, it’s the right size.’

‘Look at all these,’ Flo gasped as she pulled out knickers, pink flannel stays and long woollen stockings.

‘Just what we could do with.’ Lizzie held up a cotton petticoat. ‘All washed and ironed, too.’

‘I ain’t bothered what I got on underneath, no one sees me drawers.’ Flo pranced around the bedroom in her party dress, tossing back her hair and wiggling her bottom. They were
laughing so much, no one noticed the door open.

‘What’s going on here?’ Babs came in, her face flushed. ‘Who do all those clothes belong to?’

‘Do you like me party dress?’ Flo shouted. ‘Miss Hailing gave ’em to us.’

Babs glared at Lizzie. ‘So, that’s what you turned up for today!’

‘It wasn’t,’ Lizzie said angrily. ‘It was to ask the ladies about giving you a wage.’ Lizzie didn’t mention the party, not whilst Flo was there.

Babs’ face went red. ‘You what?’

‘You heard. And then I find out they’ve been giving you two bob a week since Ma died.’

Babs lifted her chin. ‘And what if they do! You don’t go short. Bert and Vinnie give you all that money.’ Babs’ eyes narrowed as she stepped forward. ‘You even got
yerself a job at the shop. Danny ain’t been gone five minutes and yer makin’ up to Frank.’

‘That ain’t true and you know it,’ Lizzie shouted. ‘Frank offered me the job. Danny told him to.’

‘Well you would say that, wouldn’t you?’

‘It’s the truth—’

‘I see Frank looking at you,’ Babs yelled. ‘And you make the most of it.’

Lizzie stepped forward, dropping the petticoat. ‘You’re a liar, that’s what, Babs Allen.’

Flo grabbed her clothes and ran from the room.

‘Now look what you’ve gone and done,’ Lizzie cried angrily. ‘Why didn’t you tell Flo and me about being invited to the Christmas party?’

‘I would have thought that was obvious,’ Babs said coldly. ‘It was about time I had something nice to meself. When Ma was alive I was always getting ticked off and you was the
goody goody. Well all that’s changed now. I’m keeping what I earn for meself.’

Lizzie shook her head slowly. ‘Oh no you’re not. You’ll pay your way like everyone else.’

Babs smiled. ‘Not if I’m not here I won’t.’

‘What do you mean by that?’

‘Exactly what I said. Soon as I get the chance, I’m off’ Babs shouted as she turned and ran down the stairs.

Lizzie rushed after her, leaning over the banister. ‘Where are you going?’

Babs glared up at her. ‘Somewhere me company is appreciated.’ The door slammed and the house was silent.

Lizzie went back into the bedroom. Where was Babs going? Did she really mean what she said about leaving? Feeling sick, she sat down on the bed in a daze.

F
ive o’clock had just passed and Lizzie was taking the tray to her father’s room. What could she cook for tomorrow, Good Friday, she
wondered, to make the day a bit special? A cake would go down well for tea, but for dinner she could cook a meat pie. There was some mince left over from last night’s meal. That, and a thick
gravy with roast potatoes.