The Fight for Lizzie Flowers (31 page)

‘Did the law find out who done him?’

‘No. Whoever it was has vanished.’ Frank returned his attention to the till and pressed a key. A tray sprang out with a tinkle, neatly proportioned into coins and notes. He licked
his lips at the enviable sight. Then recalled Lizzie’s words to him the night before.

‘I’ve counted every penny in that till, Frank. I know how much there is to the last farthing. And I’ll expect to see all your sales written down in the book. So don’t try
having me over, because you’ll be out on your arse if you do.’

Frank smiled. His girl was a real goer. He wouldn’t be tempted, no sir. But he could look, couldn’t he?

‘What’s the score then?’ Fowler asked as he hoisted a sack of potatoes onto his shoulders. ‘The missus giving you the thumbs-up?’

Frank warmed to the fact Fowler had referred to Lizzie as his missus. ‘First day in the shop and it’s good to be back,’ he lied half-heartedly.

‘Yeah, this trade ain’t a bad lark,’ agreed Fowler. ‘I never earned a straight wedge before.’

‘What’s your line, then?’ Frank enquired curiously. He’d never had a real conversation with Fowler before.

‘This and that.’

Frank nodded knowingly. ‘Been around, have you?’

‘You could say that.’

‘You ever used that iron bar?’

Fowler frowned and lowered the sack carefully. ‘Once or twice. Why?’

‘No reason, mate. Just wondering. I like something a bit more substantial myself.’

‘Like what?’

Frank hesitated, trapped between the impulse to brag that in another life he had been a seasoned villain and admitting those days were over. ‘I just wondered,’ Frank said, trying to
behave himself, ‘how it works when the opposition has got an unfair advantage. This Leonard Savage is a maniac. He’s tooled his crew up to the eyeballs. You can only swing that bar and
no doubt it would do the job. But someone shafting you with a bullet . . .’ Frank shrugged, watching the cast turn in Fowler’s eye as the big man slowly smiled.

‘Yeah, well, a bar’s not all I’ve got.’

Frank felt his insides start to warm. His face took on an expression of anticipation. ‘Really?’

Fowler glanced furtively over his shoulder. ‘Only don’t tell no one.’

‘On me life,’ vowed Frank, flattening the palm of his hand over his heart. He waited, breath held, as Fowler seemed to pause, weighing up how much he could reveal.

‘Your old lady don’t want no guns.’

‘No. But she’s a woman, ain’t she?’

‘They don’t think like men.’

‘Too right,’ Frank agreed. ‘But what was you saying?’

Fowler jerked his head and moved as stealthily as his bulk would allow him into the storeroom. He waited until Frank shuffled to join him. When Fowler was certain they couldn’t be
overheard, he undid his flies and his leather belt and began to peel down his trousers.

‘Hold on a minute, old son,’ Frank began, but then stopped, his eyes almost popping out of his head. Strapped to Fowler’s muscular left thigh was a small leather pouch. Fowler
gently lifted his tackle a few inches to access what was in the pouch.

‘Pint-sized but lethal,’ Fowler told him as he drew out the small revolver.

‘Christ,’ breathed Frank. ‘What’s that?’

Fowler grinned. ‘A Smith & Wesson derringer.’

‘I’ve heard the Yanks use them.’

‘Yeah, nice bit of hardware, ain’t it?’

Frank nodded, unable to tear his eyes away from the unassuming weapon that he’d heard was a favourite of the Mob.

Fowler returned the gun to the holster and did up his trousers. ‘Small but lethal and no one sees what you’ve got strapped to your leg.’ Fowler chuckled. ‘Takes a bit of
practice, mind. When we’re quiet one day, I’ll show you how it works.’

‘I’ll take you up on that.’

Frank watched the big man stride into the shop and sling the spuds over his shoulder. He stood for a while mentally reviewing the information he’d just gleaned. That nifty piece of
hardware is just up my street, he thought enviously, making a mental note to take Fowler up on his promise.

Lizzie knew from Ethel that the Lewisham church where Mrs Ryde worshipped was only ten minutes’ walk away from her house. But Richard’s mysterious death with its
unanswered questions had required more investigation. Finally, bearing no fruit, it had been referred to the coroner.

So it was on an overcast morning at the end of July that Lizzie sat with Polly, Tom and Bert, together with Danny, Flo and Syd, Doug and Lil at the back of the Lewisham Church of England church.
They were watching the solemn procession of mourners file into the pews to the left of the light oak coffin resting in the aisle. On its surface were floral tributes, Mrs Ryde’s at the head,
a wreath decorated with red ribbons and lilies. The floral spray at the foot was Ethel and the children’s. Lizzie’s was a small, discreet posy of violets, next to Lil and Doug’s
white chrysanthemums.

Mrs Ryde, a tall, extremely thin woman, with Richard’s gaunt face and slight stoop, sat with her sister in the front pew. Ethel, Rosie and Timothy joined them, but throughout the service,
Lizzie watched Mrs Ryde dab a handkerchief at her eyes. Never once did she glance at Ethel who sat with her head bowed.

When the funeral service was over, Richard’s coffin was carried by the pall bearers into the hearse waiting outside. Mrs Ryde drew a black lace veil attached to her hat over her face.
Together with Ethel, Rosie and Timothy, she was escorted to another black limousine. Lizzie looked for Ethel’s and the children’s faces as the car drove past, but none were visible.

‘Are you going to the cemetery?’ Flo asked as they stood in a little group outside the church.

Lizzie nodded. ‘I’d like to be there for Ethel and the kids.’

‘Yes, course. You don’t mind if Syd and me don’t go, do you? I’ve got a doctor’s appointment as me ankles are like balloons,’ Flo said from under the small
black hat she was wearing. She was very big now. Syd stood with his arm supporting her, dressed smartly in his dark suit. He hadn’t said much to Lizzie; she couldn’t help thinking when
she looked at him of Frank’s watch on Walter’s wrist.

‘Thanks for coming,’ Lizzie said, giving her sister a hug.

‘Poor Ethel, don’t know how she’s going to cope.’ Flo said goodbye to everyone.

As Flo and Syd walked over to their car, parked beside the church, Lizzie thought of her visit to Flo’s last week. The house had changed considerably since Syd had started work with his
brothers. Flo had everything she wanted. A brand-new pram for the baby. All its white and lemon knitted clothes laid out in a drawer in a chest beside the cot in the small bedroom. Syd had painted
the room in rainbow colours. They’d bought an expensive set of cuddly toys from Oxford Street, a journey made in their brand-new Morris. Flo hadn’t said how much anything had cost. Nor
had she admitted to the price of the three-piece suite in the front room. But it was clear she was very proud of her new lifestyle as she praised Syd’s job.

‘Are we going to see the coffin go in the ground?’ Polly asked as she stood in her dark blue summer dress and two black ribbons tied in her hair. Lizzie had worn dark colours too: a
black jacket with a velvet collar and a grey pleated skirt, with a discreet black cloche over her hair.

‘Yes, we are.’ Lizzie looked at the sombre faces around her. Danny, Bert and Doug all wore dark suits and ties. Tom was wearing his school uniform and Lil had chosen a close-fitting
black suit and shoes, attaching a little black lace cap to her up-drawn hair.

‘We’d better go then,’ Lil said, nudging Doug. ‘And get it over and done with.’

‘Is Mrs Ryde holding a wake?’ Lizzie asked as they walked towards Doug’s and Danny’s cars parked close by.

‘Yes, but me and Doug ain’t invited.’

‘Why’s that?’ Lizzie asked as the men and children climbed into the cars.

‘Ethel said the old girl wants a word with her and the kids on their own.’

‘What does Mrs Ryde mean by that?’

Lil narrowed her eyes. ‘It’s all about money with Mrs Ryde. And what she’s going to do with the house.’

‘What house?’ Lizzie asked in surprise.

‘The house my daughter calls home.’

‘But I thought Richard bought it. What’s it got to do with his mother?’

‘Turns out he borrowed her money and put her name on the deeds, not Ethel’s.’

‘What!’ Lizzie stared at Lil. ‘Why did he do that?’

‘Probably cos his mother insisted.’ Lil gave a mirthless smile. ‘If you ask me, that old bat can do anything she pleases now she’s got the upper hand. Which, of course,
is always what she wanted.’ Lil glanced at Danny’s car. ‘Call back at our place after it’s all over for a drink if you like. We can have a bit of a natter.’

‘I’m glad that’s over,’ Lil sighed tiredly as she put on the kettle. ‘I feel sorry for Ethel and the kids having to suffer the rest of the day in
Lewisham.’

‘How’s Ethel getting home?’ Lizzie asked.

‘Doug told Ethel he’d call for her but she said they’d get the bus. She didn’t know what time they’d leave. Now take these ham sandwiches in to the men.
They’ll go down a treat with the beer. Meanwhile I’ll give the kids some sponge and lemonade out in the yard. It’s a lovely day and they seem happy enough to play out
there.’

Once everyone had something to eat and drink, Lil and Lizzie sat down at the kitchen table. Lizzie ran her hands over its scrubbed wooden surface. She could remember the times as a child she had
sat here next to her mother. Lil and Kate had shared many secrets over the years. It was always nudges, winks, and laughter erupting. But during the war, Neil and Greg had died and it had all
changed. Lil had gone into herself, hiding her grief, even from Doug. But Kate Allen hadn’t been deterred for long. She’d eventually pulled Lil from the doldrums. Lizzie realized with a
start that, in a strange way, history was repeating itself. Now it was Ethel who needed help.

Lil sliced the sponge, put down the knife and sat down with a sigh. ‘I know Ethel has been having it off with that mechanic.’

Lizzie opened her mouth, then shut it.

‘I saw them one day,’ Lil continued, sipping from the generous glass of sherry she had poured herself. ‘It was months ago. They were out in that Yankee motor of his.’

‘And you didn’t tell Ethel?’ Lizzie said in surprise. She didn’t think Lil was capable of keeping something like that to herself.

‘No, I didn’t.’

‘Why not?’

Lil’s eyes were distant. ‘Because she was happier than I’d ever seen her.’

‘And you thought it was because of Cal?’

‘I’d be daft if I didn’t,’ Lil said, coming sharply back to the present. ‘You’ve known too, haven’t you? You must have.’

Lizzie nodded slowly.

‘Don’t worry, I’m not going to have a go,’ Lil assured her.

‘Ethel found something with Cal she didn’t have with Richard,’ Lizzie replied. ‘I’m not saying it was right or wrong, but it happened. And Ethel must have had a
reason.’

Lil nodded. ‘I don’t like to speak ill of the dead but it was me and Doug who pushed Ethel into marriage. Ethel and Richard was too young to know any better. Nor did we, as
grown-ups, it seems.’

‘Lil, we all make mistakes. But Ethel has two lovely kids, something she don’t regret.’

Lil gave a tight smile. ‘She’s brought them up nice, too. Given them a bit of freedom. I always kept Ethel on a short leash. Doug said I’d pay the penalty and I have. Ethel
don’t confide in me. Not the important things.’ Lil turned the glass slowly between her fingers. ‘And I can see why. I’ve got strong opinions and I voice them. But losing
Greg and Neil together like that – well, I was never the same woman again. It ain’t no excuse, but I was always worried that I might lose Ethel.’ She gave Lizzie a sad smile.
‘I’m still human, though. I need a daughter’s love as much as any mother.’

‘And you’ve got it. Ethel thinks the world of you. We all do.’

‘Ta, love. You’re a pal.’ Lil sighed and stood up, going to the sink and staring out into the yard. ‘Don’t look as if Flo and Syd are back yet.’

Lizzie took her mug to the draining board. She wondered if she could share with Lil her worries about Syd and the watch. As if reading her thoughts Lil turned and frowned into her face.
‘You look a bit peaky, love. Is something wrong?’

‘No, not really.’

‘You ain’t up the spout too, are you?’ Lil said with a wry smile.

Lizzie shook her head and smiled. ‘I hope Syd and Flo are all right.’

‘What do you mean? Cos they had to go today?’

‘Well no, not really.’

‘Is it Syd and all his new airs and graces?’

Lizzie stared at Lil. ‘So you’ve noticed something?’

Lil rolled her eyes and grinned. ‘Come on, it’s about time we had a good gas.’ She grabbed Lizzie’s arm and wheeled her back to the table. ‘Now sit down and this
time you will have a sherry. It’ll lubricate your throat muscles, gel.’ She took a clean glass from the cupboard and put it on the table, filling it to the brim.

‘You know, I’d never have had Syd down for a snob,’ Lil said as she lit yet another cigarette. ‘But it gets me goat the way that job at the scrapyard
has changed him.’

‘Have you seen much of him lately?’ Lizzie sipped slowly at the sherry.

‘I see him drive off in the mornings.’ Lil topped up her glass.

‘Have his family been round?’

‘Yes, they do think a lot of Flo.’

‘I’m sure everything’s all right, but—’ Lizzie said, on the point of telling Lil about the watch when Lil started to cough. She went to the sink and poured a glass
of water, drinking it quickly.

‘Sorry about that,’ Lil said, returning to her chair, wiping her lips with her hanky. ‘It’s these damn fags, I’ll have to cut down. Now where were we?’

‘I was saying about Syd—’

‘That’s right, you was. And I couldn’t agree more. Ever since he got that car, it’s a case of one-upmanship. He parks it next to Doug’s which is half the size and
last week he hit our bumper. He said to Doug, could Doug please park up the road a bit, as he didn’t have enough room outside his house. I ask you! There’s all the street to park in.
And we were here first. And have you seen what they’ve bought on tick? A new three-piece suite and the old one had good wear in it. Flo used to come in for a cuppa every day, but all
that’s stopped now, as if she hasn’t got time for her neighbours. She says she’s knackered carrying the baby, but walking ten feet into my front room ain’t going to kill
her.’ Lil stopped, finishing her drink. She blinked at Lizzie. ‘Sorry, ducks. I wasn’t going to say nothing. But you brought it up.’