Lizzie of Langley Street (32 page)

‘Seen anything of Frank, dare I ask?’ Ethel asked tentatively

‘No – and I don’t expect to.’

‘He’s working for the bookie, is he?’

‘So I’ve heard.’ Lizzie hadn’t seen her husband more than a handful of times since Polly had been born. The fact that he avoided her made her even more certain he was
Polly’s father. She had accepted her marriage to Frank had failed, but the anger and hurt were still there, locked deeply inside her. He didn’t bother Bill for money any longer,
working, according to gossip, for Mik Ferreter. It was a fact that surprised no one, least of all Lizzie.

‘What about Babs? Still comes to see Pol, does she?’ Ethel ventured.

Ethel was the only one, apart from Flo, with whom Lizzie had shared the truth of the terrible night of Polly’s birth. Lil had a good idea what had happened, but Lizzie had always kept
silent on the subject of Polly’s father. Babs had never said who it was and Lizzie hadn’t asked.

Lizzie nodded. ‘She turns up every now and then. Takes Pol up Island Gardens or the market.’

‘What does Pol think of that?’

‘She don’t say much. When I ask if she has a nice time, she just nods and says yes. But I notice she’s never too keen to go.’

Just then Polly came running over. ‘When are Bill and Gertie coming, Auntie Lizzie?’ she cried excitedly, pink icing round her mouth.

‘As soon as they’ve finished dinner. Come here, young lady, and wipe your mouth.’ Lizzie bent down and dabbed Polly’s small mouth with a napkin.

‘Will Mummy be coming as well?’ Polly licked her clean lips.

‘She might. We’ll have to see.’ Lizzie knew that Babs couldn’t be relied on to turn up, despite it being Polly’s birthday party.

‘Thank you for my book, Auntie Ethel,’ Polly chattered on, luckily not discouraged by Lizzie’s answer. ‘I like fairy tales. My favourite’s when Beauty kisses the
beast. He’s not really a beast, but a prince. He had a spell put on him.’

‘I hope you enjoy it, darling.’ Ethel gave Polly a hug.

Lizzie picked up a knife and began to cut the cake. At the back of her mind there was always the worry that Babs would take Polly away. It wasn’t likely. She hadn’t wanted to in five
years. Why should she change her mind now? She had nowhere to take a child, much less provide for her. But the thought haunted Lizzie. Babs was unpredictable, her mood swings frequent. Lizzie never
felt at ease whilst Polly was out with her mother. She always breathed a sigh of relief when they returned home. What would she do if Babs demanded Polly back or just took her?

‘Want any help, sis?’ Flo came to stand at the table. She had changed into a pale blue dress that showed off her good figure and long legs. Her brown hair curled softly round her
face. To Lizzie’s relief, the kiss-curl had finally turned into a smooth, glossy wave. The engagement ring on her finger was from Sydney. He’d proposed in the summer and Flo had
accepted him. Next year they would be married.

‘No, but you could top up the drinks,’ Lizzie smiled. She watched Flo go off, happiness radiating from her sister’s face. Lizzie’s mind flew back across the years to when
that expression had filled her own eyes. Her heart gave a painful jerk as she thought of Danny. Did he ever think of her? She could still remember the deep sound of his voice . . .

‘You all right, love?’ It was Lil.

‘Yes. Want a piece of your cake?’

Lil burst into laughter. ‘Like taking coals to Newcastle, that is.’ Lil wound an apron round her waist. ‘I’m gonna start on them dishes in the kitchen whilst
everyone’s occupied. Fancy a chat?’

Lizzie nodded. A little reluctantly she followed Lil. She never quite knew what Lil would ask during one of her ‘chats’. In the kitchen they stood side by side at the sink. Lil ran
the water. ‘You were deep in thought, gel. Is it that bloody husband of yours again?’

‘No, not really.’

‘You ain’t seen him, I suppose?’

‘No.’

‘Well you wanna count yerself lucky.’

Lizzie didn’t know about that. She missed being cared for as Frank had done before their wedding, his love only to disappear quickly afterwards.

‘Good riddance to bad rubbish,’ Lil said, her voice hard. ‘Sorry, but you know how I’ve always felt about Frank.’

‘Yeah, Lil. I know.’ Lizzie pushed back her dark hair that had somehow managed to escape from its clasp.

Lil sighed as she washed the dishes. ‘Do you remember the old days? When we had to bring in all the water from a tap in the backyard. You remember how you was up at the break of dawn,
getting ready to push yer dad to market. I used to see you sometimes and think, poor little cow. And now look at you. A proper lady – and I mean that.’ Lil puffed on a cigarette,
somehow managing to keep it dry. ‘You’ve come on a long way since then, love.’

‘Do you know Ma’s been gone eleven years and Pa five?’ Lizzie murmured distractedly. ‘Don’t reckon we’ll ever know what really happened to Pa.’

‘No, you’re not wrong there.’ Lil busily scoured the dishes. At fifty-seven, her brown hair was streaked with grey, her face thinner, but she was still the same old Lil.
‘I look at your old house sometimes and wonder where the time’s gone.’

‘Who’s in there now?’ Lizzie had lost count of the women moving in and out. There had been so many.

Lil sniffed. ‘Well, that brassy bit of stuff, Lena, has stuck her heels in; no one’s gonna move that cow in a hurry! The others come and go like bad pennies. Your brother turns up to
collect the takings for Ferreter and he pays Symons.’

‘How do you know all this?’ Lizzie asked in surprise.

Lil smirked. ‘When Lena’s had a few up the pub she tells everyone her business. She’s got a mouth as big as the Blackwall Tunnel.’

‘And the police know?’ Lizzie always felt angry about this. ‘Why don’t they do something?’

‘Because the coppers get a back hander.’ Lil puffed hard on her cigarette. ‘The country’s in such a state everyone’s out for themselves, even the Old
Bill.’

There was silence then and Lizzie guessed what was coming.

‘Where’s Babs today, then?’ Lil asked.

Lizzie shrugged. ‘Don’t know.’

‘Dunno how she could show her face.’

‘I hope she comes, for Polly’s sake.’

‘Probably better if the kid never saw her again.’

Lizzie gave a gasp. ‘Lil, don’t say things like that.’

Lil pulled out the plug with a vengeance. ‘Well, she don’t treat that kid right, never has.’

‘I don’t want Polly to ever think she wasn’t wanted.’

Lil turned to smile at Lizzie. ‘You won’t have to worry about that. You’ve given her all the love of a mother and more.’

‘But it’s not the real thing, is it? I’m not her mother. And she’ll start to ask questions as she gets older.’

‘You worry for nothing,’ Lil said kindly. ‘You know, I used to worry meself sick about our Ethel. There was I fretting over our Rosie and Timmy drifting off and us never seeing
them again. But it’s all come around the other way. The more hoity-toity the other half of the family gets, the more the two kids wanna come over to see us. You know, they’re dead
curious when I tell ’em the stories of their mum when she was a little girl and her two brothers who fought in the war. They like to hear about their two uncles who died for their country.
They was heroes, our Greg and Neil, and the kids love that.’ They stood quietly for a moment, each deep in thought. Then Timmy came running into the kitchen. ‘Auntie Lizzie,
there’s someone at the door.’

‘It’s probably Bill and Gertie, Tim. Could you let them in?’

Lizzie was thinking about what she and Lil had been talking about when Flo came rushing towards them

‘Blimey, gel, whose house is on fire?’ Lil joked.

Flo stared at them, her face pink all over.

‘What’s the matter?’ Lizzie asked, her heart racing. ‘Is it Babs?’

‘No, it ain’t,’ Flo sputtered. You’ll never guess who it is.’

Lizzie glanced over Flo’s shoulder. Two figures stood in the doorway; a tall man with his hand resting on a small boy’s shoulder. The boy had a mop of sandy coloured hair and huge
blue eyes that seemed to fill his face as he looked up. The man beside him stood without smiling, until meeting Lizzie’s gaze his lips parted briefly, hesitantly, in a manner that Lizzie had
only recalled in her dreams and had never dared hope to see again in reality.

‘I
thought you’d have a surprise.’ Flo shook Lizzie’s arm, getting more excited by the minute. Danny was surrounded, the
questions pouring at him from all angles.

‘Blimey.’ Lil’s voice was a shocked whisper.

Polly came running down the kitchen steps. ‘Who is that man, Auntie Lizzie? Is he coming to my party? He’s got a boy with him—’

Lizzie closed her hand tightly around Polly’s.

‘Give yer Auntie Lizzie a chance now, love,’ said Lil firmly, recovering quickly. ‘Let her get her breath.’

‘I thought it was a ghost,’ Lizzie breathed, staring at Danny, unable to believe what she was seeing.

‘No, he’s real enough.’ Lil nudged her arm, a grin spreading across her lips. ‘Handsome bugger still, ain’t he?’

Danny wore a suit under the heavy travelling jacket. His hair had turned a golden blond and was brushed back behind his ears. He seemed taller, Lizzie thought, and broader. She tried to tear her
eyes away, but she couldn’t.

‘Shouldn’t you go and speak to him?’ Lil gave her another nudge.

‘I . . . I dunno what to say.’

‘You could start with hello,’ chuckled Lil.

Everyone was talking at once. Danny was walking towards her. Lizzie stepped forward, Polly at her side.

‘Hello, Lizzie.’ Danny’s voice hadn’t changed. It was still deep and warm, and her heart raced up into her throat as she heard it.

‘Hello, Danny.’ Words failed her. There was a pounding in her ears that seemed to be getting louder.

Boston Brown clapped Danny on the shoulder. ‘Where’ve you been all this time, you rascal? We thought we’d seen the last of you, you know!’

‘Been living well by the looks of you,’ shouted Reg, joining them. He slapped Danny on the back. ‘Must be eating all them Australian cows the size of cartwheels.’

‘And who’s this?’ cried Fat Freda, pushing her way through the men and looking down at the boy. ‘Is this yer lad?’

Danny nodded. ‘Tom, these are my friends from market, the ones I told you about.’

The boy stared up under his blond fringe, his blue eyes moving slowly over the gathering.

‘You’re the image of yer old man.’ Freda attempted to soften her loud voice. ‘How old are you, then?’

‘I’m eight,’ Tom replied quietly.

‘Knew yer dad when he was your age.’ Boston bent down and ruffled the boy’s hair. ‘Blimey, you are his double, mate, aren’t you?’

The boy stared at the strange, coarse faces gathered round him. The freckles across his nose were like dots of brown paint sprinkled on his fair skin. He was dressed in a jacket and long
trousers and was, Lizzie thought as she gazed at him, as Boston had remarked, the double of Danny.

‘It’s me party today.’ Polly stood in front of Tom, who was a head and shoulders above her. ‘I’m five. It was me real birthday yesterday, but the shop was open so I
had to have it today. Would you like a piece of me birthday cake?’

Tom nodded slowly, his pale cheeks flushing.

Lizzie looked into Danny’s smiling eyes and away again.

In the kitchen, Lizzie pulled out a chair. ‘Sit down here, Tom.’

‘I’ll sit next to you.’ Polly scrambled into the chair beside him. ‘We’ve got lemonade or cream soda or ginger beer.’ Polly reeled off the drinks.

‘Could I have some milk?’

‘The milk’s in the pantry in a blue jug, Pol. Find a clean glass and fill it up for Tom.’

Whilst Polly went to get milk, Danny sat down at the table, pushing his golden hair back from his face. He looked very tired suddenly.

‘It’s been a long trip,’ he said apologetically. ‘We left Freemantle four months ago. Our ship had to pick up passengers at ports along the way. We docked last night, at
Tilbury.’

Everyone had gone back into the front room, leaving them alone with the children. Lizzie couldn’t stop looking at Danny. His skin was brown and weathered, making his eyes seem even bluer
than ever. He wasn’t the young boy she had known, but a fully grown and very handsome man. Had he made his fortune as he’d said he would? Why had he returned to England? And, the
question she wanted to ask most, where was his wife?

Polly returned to the table, a glass of milk in her hand. ‘Where’s Fr . . . Fr . . .’ she began, frowning at Tom.

‘Freemantle.’ Tom gulped down the milk. ‘It’s a town in Australia.’

‘Where’s Australia?’

‘On the other side of the world.’

‘Did you live there?’

Tom nodded, glancing at his father. ‘But we’re going to live in England, aren’t we, Dad?’

Danny didn’t reply. Lizzie clutched the teapot. They were coming to live in England! But where? And why? Her mind was whirling.

‘I’ve just blown out me candles,’ Polly told Tom and Danny in a sing-song voice. ‘I made a wish. But Auntie Lil says I can’t tell no one what it is.’

‘No, course not,’ agreed Danny softly. ‘That would spoil it.’

‘My mummy might come,’ Polly continued as though she had known Danny and Tom for years. ‘Or she might not.’

Lizzie quickly made the tea. It hadn’t taken Polly very long to break the ice.

‘Where does she have to come from?’ asked Tom.

‘Up Poplar. She lives with my Uncle Vinnie. She works a lot. She don’t get much time to come round here.’

‘Oh.’ Tom took another gulp of milk.

Danny looked up at Lizzie. This time she didn’t look away, but she didn’t offer any explanation either.

‘Where’s your mummy, then?’ Polly was off again.

‘She died,’ Tom told her, licking the milk from his lips.

Lizzie felt her insides go cold. She turned and stared at the little boy.

Polly leaned her elbows on the table and stared into Tom’s face. ‘That makes us nearly the same, ’cos I haven’t got a daddy.’

‘Did he die too?’ Tom asked.

Polly nodded. ‘Why do you talk that funny way?’ Polly asked suddenly.