Lizzie's War (30 page)

‘What will happen when her husband comes home?' Beth's father asked. ‘It's all right you living there while he's away but he won't want you and the twins there when he gets back.'

Beth frowned. ‘I'm not sure, Dad, but I'll have a bit of money coming in by then and perhaps I'll find a house of my own. Who knows what might happen.'

‘It's a pity you didn't marry Tony,' her father said. ‘He's got that nice little shop of his with its own flat – but I heard he was going to marry the girl that looks after it for him…'

‘Yes, well, I expect they've grown close,' Beth said and swallowed the pain her father had unknowingly inflicted. ‘Besides, Tony made it clear that he didn't want me after I had the twins… he's even less likely to once he hears what kind of a man I married…'

Her father stared at her hard. ‘I'm sorry, Beth. I didn't know you still cared for Tony.'

‘I don't,' she said and blinked hard. ‘Of course I don't. I doubt if I could ever love or trust any man as a husband again.'

He touched her face gently, sympathy in his own. ‘If Bernie wasn't dead, I'd strangle him with my bare hands… I'm sorry I didn't look after you better, love.'

Beth sniffed and swiped her hand over her eyes. ‘Forget it, Dad. I'm not a child. I should've known better than to trust that worm…'

Her father nodded, then, ‘Well, I'm going to have a chat with Ed and then I expect we shall go the police with the evidence, so you're going to have to be a big girl, Beth, because it isn't going to be pleasant for a while for any of us. You'd better tell your mother, at least some of it, but spare her the sordid details, because it would upset her too much. Just let her know what to expect, because it isn't something we can keep a secret…'

*

Beth's mother wept when she retold the story she'd told her father, leaving out a few of the details she hadn't spared him, as he'd suggested. She groped for her handkerchief and wiped her face, and then got up and embraced Beth.

‘I'm so sorry, love. I should have thought more, because I suspected he was dabbling in the black market, but I was so worried about Mary and I thought you were lucky to get a chance for a new life – if I'd only known about the other stuff…'

‘You couldn't have known, Mum, no one did,' Beth said. ‘I didn't want to tell you any of it, but you have to know. Dad says we can't keep this quiet…'

‘No, we can't,' her mother agreed. ‘Nor should we try. You were blameless, Beth. Your husband was a scoundrel and I'm not going to pretend he was a hero just because he pushed those girls out of the fire.'

‘I can't pretend to mourn him or to think he was a hero either.'

‘Nor should you! To think of all the misery, he caused you, as well as Lizzie – and we all blamed Harry's uncle for what happened to her. Well, it just shows you can't judge a man by appearances. Who would have guessed what he was really capable of?'

‘We knew he must buy from the black market, Mum,' Beth said. ‘I suppose we should've been warned.'

‘Yes, but a lot of people buy an extra bit of sugar or dried fruit if they can,' her mother reasoned. ‘They aren't all bad, Beth.'

That was true and Beth didn't want to argue the point. She just wanted to forget her marriage had ever happened, but the police were going to want to question her, and if it all came out in the papers she'd be questioned by reporters and photographed in the street as the wife of the villain Bernie Wright.

Beth cringed at the thought, because she felt humiliated enough as it was and she didn't want people thinking she'd condoned Bernie's activities – but she didn't want them to pity her either.

She was on thorns until her father returned looking grim. The news he brought was worrying, because the police had not only believed her story but told her father that they'd been investigating Bernie for some time. They'd taken the notebooks and the money, listened to his story and told him that someone would come to interview Beth in the morning.

‘They don't want you to go down the station, Beth. You're not under suspicion, love, but they will ask you to confirm everything I've told them – and then we shall have to wait and see…'

‘I've been told not to leave London, as the police might want to interview me again,' Beth said to Lizzie the next afternoon when she arrived at the workshops after her visit to the police station. ‘They made me feel as if I'd done something wrong, though the Inspector did say that I'd acted properly in handing important evidence to the police.'

‘Oh, that's just their way, Beth. It isn't pleasant, but I suppose they have to be suspicious of everyone; it's their job.'

‘If I'd been involved with Bernie's nasty little rackets I wouldn't have handed over the money I found,' Beth said bitterly. ‘I suppose I have to be thankful that they didn't come at one in the morning with a warrant to search the house.'

‘If the incident at the factory hadn't happened, it might very well have been their next step.'

‘Yes…' Beth shuddered. ‘I can still hardly believe what sort of man I married, Lizzie…'

‘You didn't know what he was,' Lizzie said but Beth still looked upset.

‘I didn't know some of it, but I did know he was into the black market,' she said at last. ‘It should've told me that he wasn't honest… I ought never to have married him…' Beth choked back a sob.

‘Oh, Beth love,' Lizzie comforted as best she could. ‘Try not to dwell on things, because there's nothing you can do now…'

‘I know…' Beth flicked the tears away with the back of her hand and picked up a sketchbook lying on the desk. ‘You've been busy I see…'

‘These are designs for my winter collection…' Lizzie said. ‘I draw whatever I feel like and then Ed helps me work out if they are possible. I miss him being here. If I could find someone else to look after Oliver's place, I would rather have Ed working with me.'

‘Couldn't you just sell Oliver's?'

‘That wouldn't be fair to Aunt Miriam. The workshop was left to me for a reason, because he wanted it to continue and grow – besides, one day I may need it.'

‘You mean if your designs become so popular that you can't manage all the production here?'

‘Something like that,' Lizzie agreed, and then hesitated. ‘I suppose basic hats will always be wanted, but I want to concentrate on designer hats – so I'll just let Oliver's go on with the Government contracts and have the more expensive hats here. And whatever I do, I want you to be a part of it, Beth.'

‘Thank goodness for you, Lizzie. I was feeling as if I wanted to tear my hair out when I came round, but I feel better now.'

‘It isn't going to be easy for you, love. Once the story gets out about Bernie, people will gossip – and you know what vicious tongues some of them have.'

‘Yes, I do, and I know what happened to your business when people saw the insults painted on your premises and Bert Oliver was spreading lies about you.'

‘Some of that was down to Bernie, though Harry's uncle did try to ruin my business.' Lizzie sighed and then brightened. ‘Well, that's over now. We've got the future to look forward to…'

*

‘How are you, love?' Lizzie asked when Beth entered her office, after a further meeting with the police a week or so later. ‘Has anything else happened?'

‘I've been warned not to say anything about Bernie or what he is suspected of having done. The police are investigating his affairs and they've uncovered a couple of houses that were being used for prostitution and gambling. Both have been closed down and the property confiscated by the Crown'

‘Oh, Beth, how awful. I mean the black market is one thing… but this other is nasty…'

‘It makes me feel dirty… to think that money paid for the clothes we wore and the food we ate…'

‘Will they confiscate everything – what about Bernie's house? Does that belong to you, Beth?'

‘It came to Bernie through his father and since there's nothing known about him it seems I could inherit the house – if I want it…'

‘Surely you can sell it? The money would be useful, Beth.'

‘That is what my mother says, but I'm not sure I want anything that belonged to Bernie, Lizzie.'

‘Well, that's up to you, but I think he owes you – even if you put the money away for the twins.'

‘I suppose I could do that,' Beth said. ‘Yet it goes against the grain somehow…'

‘You deserve something for what he did to you…'

‘I suppose so…' Beth said. ‘Sometimes I get so angry about it all – but that's a good thing. It stops me feeling sorry for myself.'

‘I think we all feel a bit sorry for ourselves sometimes,' Lizzie said and laughed softly. ‘What with rationing on almost everything, the awful news from the war in the papers – and everyone living in dread of a telegram, we aren't exactly having a good time, any of us. Even though the Luftwaffe have stopped bombing the hell out of us every night, we still get warnings and the occasional raid, if not in London on the coast somewhere. The threat is still there all the time…'

‘I suppose I have to think myself lucky we're all alive and have got a roof over our heads,' Beth said. ‘Would you mind if I moved in with you again soon, Lizzie? I won't live at Bernie's and don't want to live with my parents. I've been waiting until this business with the police blows over, but I think they're going to bury it in their archives.'

‘Who told you that?'

‘The Inspector,' Beth said. ‘He says that they've gone as far as they can in the circumstances, but since Bernie is dead there's no point in bringing a case against him.'

‘So that's the end of it.'

Beth frowned. ‘Do you recall that man they fished out of the river several weeks ago – had his head bashed in?'

‘Yes…' Lizzie frowned, ‘Why?'

‘Inspector Groves told me believes Bernie killed him. A witness has claimed he saw it happen but was too frightened to tell them at the time…'

‘Bernie killed him?' Lizzie felt a cloud of doubt lift; she hadn't been responsible for a man's execution as she'd feared when she'd asked Jack to help her get rid of her shadow. ‘Are you sure?'

‘So the Inspector said, and I suppose he knows. He told me I wasn't to speak of it – but you're not going to tell anyone, are you?'

‘Of course not.' Lizzie felt relief flood through her. ‘If Bernie hadn't died in the fire he might have been tried for murder. I'm glad that didn't happen, love. It's so much better this way.'

‘Yes, it is,' Beth nodded. ‘It has all been hanging over me like a dark cloud these past weeks, but now it's lifting. I think we have something to look forward to at last, Lizzie.'

‘Yes, thank goodness,' Lizzie gave her a hug. ‘We'll give the children a lovely christening party next weekend and forget all about this nastiness as much as we can…'

*

It was cold in church, rain hitting the stained glass windows, but Lizzie was determined the raw early November weather wasn't going to spoil things for any of them. All three children objected noisily to the ceremony and Matt screamed his way through it, though Jenny and Betty were soon all smiles again.

Soon they were back at the house, enjoying the hot vegetable soup, sausage rolls and cheese pastries that Hatty had provided. She'd managed a large and delicious sponge filled with strawberry jam and fresh cream – that Lizzie had somehow charmed out of their milkman for the occasion – corned beef sandwiches and buns for the kids. Mr Court had supplied them with some oranges and apples, and there was a big apple crumble with custard to finish the treat.

It was all washed down with cups of tea and a few glasses of wine – wine that Sebastian had bought before he left and had remained untouched in the pantry. Lizzie had fetched it out, deciding the grown-ups needed a treat as much as the children, and watching Beth's twins, Betty and Tilly's little girl playing together was a delight in itself.

Tilly put a hand to her aching back and smiled. ‘It was good of you to ask us, Lizzie. Sally doesn't get cake or fruit very often…'

‘Mr Court supplied the fruit from his stall, but Hatty chipped in her own rations to make the cakes for the children.' She smiled as Tilly sighed. ‘Back aching? I know mine was constant when I was at your stage.'

‘Just over two months to go…'

‘I expect you'll be glad when it's over. Having babies isn't much fun…' She looked lovingly at Betty. ‘But children are their own reward…'

‘Yes, I know, and I can't wait to hold my baby. I'm all right really. I like working for you – I can come back for a few hours when I'm over it, can't I?'

‘You know I'll always be glad of your skill…'

‘Oh, look at Sally! That's the third bun she's had…'

Lizzie smiled as Tilly went off to stop her little girl stuffing the cake into her mouth all at once. Her gaze travelled round the room; all her friends were here, all the people she cared about except one…

Even in the midst of the chatter and laughter, Lizzie knew a pang of loneliness. She was happy with her friends and the people she thought of as her family, but where was Sebastian. Without him, her life could never be complete…

Beth kept her cheerful face in place when she was serving customers and talking to Lizzie. It was better living with her and Hatty, because her parents treated her as if she were made of fine china and might break. Especially her mother, who blamed herself for Beth's unhappy marriage.

Beth could only feel relieved that it was over and try to forget the past. Unlike Lizzie, she didn't suffer from nightmares, but sometimes the thought of Bernie, what he had been and what he'd done to her, caught her out and made her shudder.