Lizzie of Langley Street (42 page)

A family . . . yes, it was her dearest wish. But it was too soon . . .the memories too fresh in her mind.

He undid the turban round her head. Her black hair tumbled over her shoulders and her green eyes shimmered as she stared up at him. ‘That’s better,’ he told her. ‘This is
the girl I remember.’

She looked up into his dear face. She knew he loved her and that she loved him and they were now free to let that love grow. Love was a blessing she would treasure and never take for granted.
And whatever the future held, life would be rich with the fruits of that love.

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December 1932

It was a sunny winter’s morning and ladders of gold streamed in through the registry office windows. It was also the last Wednesday before Christmas and Lizzie rejoiced
in the fact that, at last, in her twenty-seventh year, she would be married to the love of her life, Danny Flowers.

The scene was set – low-key, no frills, just as she had wanted. Beside Danny stood Bert, her brother and best man. The ring was poised carefully between his great clumsy fingers, ready to
pass to the groom. Bert’s towering six-foot-four frame strained every stitch of his ill-fitting wedding suit, his presence giving her a feeling of reassurance. As did her good friends Lil and
Doug Sharpe, seated in the row behind, the only witnesses to today’s brief civil ceremony.

Lizzie looked into Danny’s clear blue eyes, spaced evenly in his handsome, weather-beaten face. A jagged scar on his forehead was still visible, the handiwork of her late husband, Frank,
Danny’s older brother. Thankfully, nature had healed the vertical slash of smooth, pale skin and Danny’s blond hair fell lightly across it, disguising any unsightliness. But the thought
of Frank and the violence he had been capable of still made her shiver.

Uncannily, a door ground open at the back of the room and her mother’s words flashed into mind. ‘
Someone’s just walked over my grave, Lizzie, girl. The hairs on my neck are
standing on end.’

But why had she thought of that now? Lizzie wondered as Danny took her hand in his. Frank was dead and buried; a swollen, almost unrecognizable corpse dragged from the River Thames seven months
ago, now laid to rest in East London Cemetery.

She and Danny were to be man and wife today. Nothing could spoil this moment. Not even those painful memories she had buried, sealed and locked away, and hoped would fade completely as the years
passed.

Danny moved closer. His tall, powerful figure was dressed impeccably in a hand-finished black suit and silk tie. Thick blond waves parted on his crown and a smile curved over his even white
teeth.

Lizzie’s heart lifted in anticipation. This was the moment she had dreamed of since Danny had sailed out of her life to seek his fortune in Australia almost twelve years ago. She had loved
him then. She loved him now. It was as if she had never lost him, never taken his brother for her husband.

And lived to regret it.

‘I love you,’ Danny whispered, tracing his thumb gently over her fingers. ‘Always and forever this time.

Her heart raced, missing yet another beat. ‘Always and forever,’ she repeated, her voice lost as the registrar, pasty-faced and squat cleared his throat noisily.

The door rattled again.

Danny held her gaze, as though forbidding her to turn around. She saw Bert pass Danny the ring and the golden band gleamed, poised to glide effortlessly over her finger.

But it was as if her eyes couldn’t help themselves. As if in slow motion, she turned, the minute details of the room imprinting themselves on her mind. The shabby wallpaper, the
well-thumbed reference books on the shelves, a vase of white chrysanthemums placed on a small table and a sprig of holly pinned precariously above the handwritten notice wishing the public at large
a Festive Christmas and Happy New Year.

‘Oh Christ, it can’t be,’ she heard Lil gasp behind her.

In that moment, Lizzie’s world began to crumble. The feeling of unreality she had been trying so hard to suppress all day now fully encompassed her. The man – the
intruder
– was walking towards them. A dark fedora shaded his eyes. A camel-coloured coat was buttoned over his chest. But it was the two-tone brown-and-white brogues that sent real fear throughout
her body. Shoes that were her late husband’s trademark in life.

And so – Danny had told her – in death.

Lizzie shook her head, refusing to believe what she saw. If this was a ghost, then everyone else was seeing it too. Lil and Doug stood open-mouthed, staring at the figure in the aisle. The
registrar frowned, a look of annoyance on his face at the interruption. But it was Danny who stepped forward and squared his shoulders, confronting the apparition. ‘Frank? But you’re
supposed to be—’

‘Brown bread,’ Frank acknowledged, his pale blue eyes moving uncertainly in their red-rimmed sockets.

Lizzie felt fingers of ice on her neck. Frank, her dead husband, was here, in this room. The same man Danny had identified in Limehouse morgue, back in May.

‘But it can’t be you,’ Danny said. ‘I saw you. Fished out of the river—

‘Not me,’ Frank replied softly. ‘Sorry to disappoint.’

‘Is this some sick joke?’ Danny demanded. ‘What are you playing at, Frank?’

‘This ain’t no game, Danny. I’m flesh and blood standing here. Same as you.’

‘But I saw what I saw,’ Danny insisted. ‘It was you—’

‘Floaters are ten a penny in the docks,’ Frank interrupted with a slight shrug. ‘You should have took a closer gander.’

Before Danny could reply, the registrar spoke. ‘Who are you, sir? This is a private ceremony, with invited guests only.’

‘You’d better ask her.’ Frank nodded at Lizzie.

But she was speechless; like Danny she couldn’t believe this was Frank. He was thinner and paler than he used to be, his cheeks sunken under his eyes. But he was still wearing his
trademark stacked-shoulders overcoat and ridiculous two-tone brogues.

‘Mrs Flowers?’ the registrar prompted. But Lizzie could only shake her head as she tried to speak.

‘I . . . I . . . don’t know . . .’ she mumbled at last, her voice a distant echo in her ears. ‘He was – he is—’

‘Alive and kicking,’ Frank said quietly. ‘Last time I saw you, gel, I was on my way out of this world. And no one is more surprised than me to be standing here in one piece.
But this time, you have my word I ain’t here to make trouble.’

‘Your
word
?’ Danny repeated incredulously. ‘Why the hell should anyone take your word? You’re nothing but bad news, Frank. And though you are family and in all
conscience I should be relieved that it wasn’t a brother of mine they fished out of the river, I am truly gutted.’

As the two men faced each other, all Lizzie could think was why in God’s name had she married a man like Frank Flowers? She could still smell his drunken breath on their wedding night.
Feel his hands ripping at her clothes. The dream had turned to a nightmare. She had been blind. Naïve. And worst of all, she had lost Danny.

‘Get out of here,’ Danny continued with quiet menace. ‘You ain’t welcome, Frank. This is my and Lizzie’s day. We are going to finish what we came here
for.’

‘Problem is,’ Frank said, slowly raising his eyes, ‘the law thinks different.’

Suddenly Lizzie understood what was truly happening. It didn’t matter where Frank had been or why he was here. The sad truth was there wouldn’t be – couldn’t be –
any marriage today. No blushing bride or wedding kiss after Danny had slipped the ring on her finger, no congratulations and confetti on the registry office steps. No wedding breakfast. Gone was
the planned knees-up, the tinkling of ivories and serious drinking until dawn. Frank had robbed her of happiness once again.

‘Come, come!’ the registrar exclaimed impatiently. ‘Please either leave or be seated, Mr— ?’

‘Flowers,’ Frank provided. ‘This lady here is my wife.’

The silence in the small room was deafening; Lizzie could hear her own heartbeat. No one moved, or drew a breath.

‘It’s true, ain’t it, Lizzie?’ Frank insisted. ‘You and me tied the knot – when was it? Must be all of seven years back.’

‘Wife?’ the little man repeated as he turned to Lizzie. ‘But you have applied as a widow to be married here today.’

Lizzie felt her face flush. She stared at Frank and into his expectant gaze. ‘Y-yes . . . I was,’ she faltered. ‘But there’s been some kind of mistake—’

‘Obviously,’ the official replied, and taking the ledger in front of him, he snapped it closed, pushing it to one side of the desk with an expression of undisguised anger.

A bead of sweat rolled down Lizzie’s back. Her two-piece suit, the perfect shade of green that she loved and only a shade lighter than her deep, sea-green eyes, was
clinging uncomfortably to her skin. Her jaunty, narrow-brimmed hat of the same shade, with a delicate three inches of embroidered veil felt a mockery now.

She heard Danny breathing hard, watching Frank as he stepped towards her. ‘You’re the one good thing that’s happened to me, Lizzie. And I’d cut off my right arm if I
could change what I did. I’ve seen the error of me ways and I reckon, if we gave it a shot, you and me could make a go of it. It’s never too late to change.’

Lizzie glared in disbelief at the man who had cheated on her from day one of their marriage. Not caring how much he hurt her or how deeply she had been humiliated. Staring into his face, she
felt the breath leave her lungs as she shook her head. ‘Listen to you, Frank! Listen to what you are saying! After all that’s happened do you really believe there could be a future for
us? Look at me, look at Danny, we’re here to begin a new life. A life that, until you walked into this room, we had intended to make together.’

‘But you can’t leave me now, Lizzie,’ Frank pleaded, opening his arms and gazing into her eyes. ‘Not now. Not now I’ve sorted myself out. And I have, honest to God,
I have. On my life, Lizzie, they only just unlocked the door. Can’t you see I’m gen this time?’

Lizzie’s head started to reel. ‘What door?’

‘I’ve been ill, gel. Really bad. But they cured me. They knocked the shit out of me in the hospital and it worked.

For one moment Lizzie wanted to laugh. She wanted to laugh long and deeply at the irony of such a statement. If only she could laugh! If only she could see the funny side of the ruination of her
wedding day.

‘You have got some nerve,’ Danny burst out, pulling his brother round to face him. ‘You turn up at the very minute we’re about to get wed and give us some sob story about
being in hospital?

‘It’s true,’ Frank said with a nod. ‘I was in a loony bin. Mad as the proverbial hatter.’

‘What’s new? You’ve never been the full shilling,’ Danny replied, pushing his brother away from Lizzie. ‘It takes a nutter to try and blow up his family and think
he can get away with it.’

‘I swear it’s the truth,’ Frank insisted as he shrank back. ‘That day I set the bomb off in Lizzie’s shop, I was out of me mind. I didn’t know what I was
doing. All I can remember is I heard these voices in my head. Voices saying I had to get rid of you to get my wife back. Then Ferreter turned up and it’s all a blank from there, till I woke
up, ranting and raving, in this hospital. I was out of my mind. I didn’t even know my own moniker. The shrinks put me behind bars with all these crazies. I thought I’d died and landed
up in hell. It’s been the worst six months of my life.’

Danny drew a breath and shook his head fiercely. ‘Pull the other one, Frank. Can’t you think up something more convincing?’

‘It’s the truth, Danny. I swear it.

‘Enough!’ Danny shouted, pushing his brother’s shoulder again, until he stumbled back and almost fell against a chair. ‘You are nuts, Frank. That’s old news. But
listen to me and listen good. Stay away from us. Stay away from Lizzie. Somehow you’ve managed to cling on to life. But enough is enough. You’ve had all your chances and blown them. If
I ever see you round here again I’ll personally put right what Ferreter failed to do.’

Frank looked at Lizzie. He said quietly, ‘Is that what you want too? Don’t you believe me, gel?’

Lizzie felt the tears very close as she stared at the man whom she had married and promised to love, honour and obey. Whose child she had adopted as her own. It wasn’t enough that Frank
had put her sister in the family way and out of it had come their one blessing in Polly, an innocent child whom Babs and Frank had heartlessly chosen to abandon. Now he was claiming that madness
had driven him to lie and cheat and almost kill his family. She shook her head slowly and whispered, ‘Danny’s right, Frank. You’ve used up all your chances.’

‘One more,’ Frank implored huskily, reaching out. ‘I can do it now. I can look after you and Polly like I should have. And Babs too. I can make things right—’

‘Get out, Frank!’ Danny shouted. ‘Get out before I lose my temper. You are on borrowed time, chum, do you hear me?’

Lizzie saw the understanding slowly settle on Frank’s face. His eyes were moist and suddenly devoid of expression. He swallowed, his breath flowing out of him as he pleadingly searched the
faces turned towards him. No one spoke; Lizzie knew they were all in shock and Frank’s shoulders slumped in resignation. Finally he turned, making his way slowly to the back of the room.

The door ground noisily on its hinges. Lizzie found herself staring at the empty space where a few seconds ago her dead husband had stood, alive and breathing and telling her he wanted her back.
‘The law is very strict about remarriage.’ The registrar’s voice broke into her tangled thoughts. ‘The law also frowns on threats and violence of any sort. This is a most
reprehensible state of affairs.’

Danny ignored him and pulled Lizzie gently into his arms. ‘Looks like we have to think again,’ he said in a choked whisper. ‘I don’t know what to say to you, except,
I’m sorry. Heart sorry he’s back in our lives again.’