Lizzie of Langley Street

by Carol Rivers

  ‘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.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Five 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.

  She glanced down at the tray she was carrying. Apple dumplings. They were tender and juicy, made from the cooking apples that Bert brought home from the shop. There were two slices of bread beside this and a scraping of jam. It didn’t look much, but it was filling and apple dumplings were Pa’s favourite.

  She knocked first before pushing open the door. He was sitting by the window in his chair. ‘Tea’s up, Pa.’

  ‘Leave it on the cupboard.’

  She went over and lowered the tray. ‘Don’t let it get cold, Pa. It’s your favourite, apple dumplings.’

  He turned to frown at her. ‘Who was that who called this morning?’

  ‘It was Reverend Green. He was only here a few minutes.’ She had hoped the visit had gone unnoticed.

  ‘What did he want?’

  ‘Miss Hailing asked him to call because it was Easter.’

  Her father pushed his chair from the window. ‘Well, you can give him his marching orders if he comes again. I don’t want no holy Joes coming round this house and trying it on.’

  ‘He was just being friendly. Giving us all a blessing.’

  ‘Let him go and bless the poor buggers waiting at the dock gates. We don’t want the likes of him round here. They’re only interested in one thing. Telling you how to live your life and charging you for it.’

  Lizzie looked at her father. The light shone on his hard, set face. There was no reasoning with him lately; he suspected everyone and trusted no one. Leaving the room, she stood in the passage and blinke
d back a tear. As she stood there, Flo came slowly down the stairs.

  ‘I’ll get you something to eat,’ Lizzie said.

  ‘I’m not hungry.’

  ‘That’s not like you.’ Lizzie went towards her. ‘What’s the matter?’

  Flo burst into tears. ‘I dunno. I got a sore throat and these . . .’ There were tiny red spots covering Flo’s neck. When Lizzie undid her blouse, Flo’s chest was covered in them.

  The ambulance had just left as Bert and Frank pulled up in the cart. ‘What’s goin’ on?’ Bert shouted as he jumped down. ‘What’s the ambulance round ’ere for?’

  Dr Tapper said quietly, ‘You’d better take your sister inside, young man.’

  ‘What’s wrong?’ Bert asked again as Frank joined them.

  ‘Go in,’ Lil told him firmly, ‘and she’ll tell you.’

  ‘I’ll be on my way, then.’ Dr Tapper clutched his Gladstone bag and pulled at the brim of his top hat.

  ‘Give us a shout if I can help,’ Lil called as she disappeared through her front door.

  Lizzie went to the kitchen and sat down. She looked up at Frank and Bert, who stood hesitantly in the doorway. ‘Dr Tap says Flo’s got scarlet fever.’

  ‘’Struth,’ breathed Frank, moving towards her. ‘Poor kid.’

  ‘How did she get it?’ Bert asked bewilderedly as Frank ushered them along the passage.

  ‘I don’t know, Bert. She was covered in spots. She might have got it at school. Miss Evans said there was one girl in Flo’s class who had it.’

  ‘Where have they taken her?’ Frank asked quickly.

  ‘To the Mile End Road hospital. There’s a special place there for people with infectious illness.’

  ‘Mile End,’ muttered Bert. ‘How are we gonna get up there?’

  ‘I’ll walk up to Poplar and catch a tram,’ Lizzie told him. ‘I’ve packed a few clothes, but she’s only got one good nightdress. I’ll have to get her another one from Cox Street.’

  ‘I expect they’ve got plenty at the hospital,’ Frank murmured.

  ‘Do you think so?’ Lizzie bit down on her lip. ‘She won’t like being away from home . . .’ Tears welled up in her eyes.

  ‘Hey, come on, now.’ Frank sat down beside her at the table, patting her arm. ‘She’s gonna be all right. You wait and see. I’ll take you over on the cart.’

  ‘Would you?’ She looked up at him. ‘But ain’t it a long way?’

  Frank shrugged. ‘I’ll give Benji a nosebag while you’re gettin’ ready.’ He stood up and went out to cart.

  ‘Do you want me to come too?’ Bert asked.

  ‘No, I’d rather you stay with Pa. He still ain’t come out of his room, though he must have heard all the commotion.’

  Bert nodded slowly. ‘I’ll tell him what’s happened.’

  Leaving Bert she went upstairs to the bedroom. The evening sunshine spilled through the window. Gathering Flo’s few possessions and putting on her coat, she went back downstairs.

  ‘Got everything?’ Frank asked as he came in the front door, rubbing the oats from his hands.

  ‘Yes.’ She looked up at Bert. ‘Look after Pa, won’t you? Lil’s next door if you need her.’

  ‘Yeah. Don’t you worry, gel.’

  They went out to the cart and Frank helped her up on to the seat. Taking his place beside her, he picked up the reigns. ‘Get on there!’ he shouted, shaking the reins.

  All the lights went on in the houses as the cart trundled along. When would Flo return home? she wondered. Could she be cured?

  Benji began to trot faster, the shadows settling over their path as they clattered along the empty street.

  Frank went the quickest way, through Limehouse. The last of the sun had disappeared and a yellow fog filled the streets. Even the gas lamps were indistinct as the mist crept around them, giving them an eerie glow. Frank stopped the cart and pulled a potato sack up from the back. ‘Put this over yer legs, gel. It’ll keep you warm.’

  Lizzie was grateful for the rough protection. She was shivering, though more from nerves than cold. Frank told her not to worry, that everything was going to be all right, and though the journey seemed endless they finally reached the hospital. Frank drew the cart up outside the front entrance of the big Victorian building. Light spilled out of the many windows. An ambulance was parked by the doors.

  ‘I don’t know if I’d ever have found it.’ Lizzie held on to his shoulders as he lifted her down. ‘Thanks, Frank.’

  He smiled at her, holding her gently. ‘Might clear up a bit by the time we go home.’ He took her arm and they walked up the stone steps.

  Inside it was warmer and the high ceilings gave off a clear, bright light. ‘Can I help you?’ A nurse came towards them along the corridor. She wore a white cap and a high, starched collar. Her long blue dress was almost entirely covered by a white apron.

  ‘My name is Lizzie Allen. My sister was brought in by ambulance at tea time.’ Lizzie glanced down the long corridor hopefully.

  ‘Was she involved in an accident?’ the nurse asked, looking them up and down.

  ‘No, she’s got scarlet fever.’ There was a tremble in Lizzie’s voice. ‘Her name’s Florence, but we call her Flo. The ambulance men said it would be better for me to wait till tomorrow to come over. But Flo don’t like being away from home.’ Lizzie clutched her small bag of possessions.

  The nurse, who had very dark, piercing eyes, glanced at Frank. ‘Are you a relative too?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Frank brought me here,’ Lizzie said quickly.

  ‘Well, I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to wait in the waiting room, sir. We have very strict rules for visitors. Especially for those patients who are being assessed.’

  Frank shrugged. ‘Fair enough. I’ll have to go out to the horse anyway.’

  ‘The horse?’ The nurse frowned. ‘You came on a horse?

  ‘Horse and cart,’ clarified Frank in a brisk tone. ‘It’s a long way from Langley Street, ’specially at night.’

  The nurse’s voice softened. ‘Well, in that case, perhaps we’ll be able to find you a cup of tea. Come into the waiting room when you’ve seen to the horse.’

  Frank smiled at Lizzie. ‘See you later. Give Flo me love.’

  When Frank had gone, the nurse crooked her finger. ‘Come along. We’re quite a way from the isolation wards. But as we go you can tell me what happened.’

  As they walked, Lizzie explained about Flo’s spots and sore throat, then Lil going round for the doctor and his diagnosis. Part of her was hoping the nurse would tell her it was wrong and that Flo was sitting up in bed, well again. But instead, the nurse, who was a sister, explained that all infectious cases were assessed in a special ward.

  The long, echoing corridors seemed never-ending. Some of the people they passed looked very sick. They huddled on benches and chairs and sometimes in Bath chairs, like her father’s. She saw several men missing their limbs and she thought of how Pa must have suffered during the long months in different hospitals.

  ‘Has Flo been ill for long?’ the sister asked as she pushed open an outside door and a gust of foggy air blew in.

  ‘She’s been a bit off-colour for a week,’ Lizzie told her as they walked across to another building and up a ramp. Inside, a gust of heat and strong disinfectant enveloped them. ‘She wouldn’t eat tonight and I knew something was wrong. She loves her food. Then I saw the spots.’

  ‘Does Flo take any medicine?’ They turned into a brightly lit room where a secretary sat at a desk piled high with papers.

  ‘Ma used to give us Galloway’s lung syrup and sometimes camphorated oil or wintergreen.’

  ‘Is that all? Cough medicine and balms?’

  Lizzie stiffened. ‘They always did us good. Ma was very particular about medicines.’

  ‘I’m sure,’ said the sister, quickly patting her arm.

  ‘It costs a shilling every time the doctor calls,’ Lizzie felt impelled to explain. ‘And there’s
five of us kids.’

  The sister smiled kindly. ‘It must be very expensive for your mother.’

  ‘She died last year,’ Lizzie told her. ‘It’s me that looks after everyone now.’

  ‘Oh dear. I’m sorry.’ The sister was quiet for a moment as they entered a small, warm room. ‘And your father?’

  ‘He lost his legs in the war.’ Lizzie was afraid to tell this woman too much, but in the circumstances what could she do?

  ‘Mary,’ said the sister to a girl sitting behind a desk. ‘A young girl by the name of Florence Allen was admitted this afternoon. Do you think we could arrange for her sister to see her? She’s come all the way from the island in this dreadful weather.’

  ‘I’ll ask the doctor,’ the secretary replied and hurried out of the room, her leather soles squeaking on the lino.

  There were six wooden chairs lined along the wall. The sister gestured to one of them. ‘Take your coat off and sit down, Lizzie. If they allow you to see Florence, you’ll have to wear some very peculiar clothes to protect against germs coming in or going out of the hospital.’

  Lizzie took off her coat. ‘Will Flo get better?’

  ‘She will have very good treatment here,’ the sister replied, adding quickly, ‘Is there an inside toilet or bathroom in your house?’

  Lizzie shook her head. ‘No, but we’ve got the shed. Me grandmother used to call it the closet. We wash out there and bring the tin bath in for a good soak.’

  ‘I see. Well, one of the things that we do to fight infectious diseases is to look at the problem of overcrowding. Some houses can also be insanitary—’

  ‘Ma always kept a clean house,’ Lizzie protested at once. ‘She made certain we all kept clean too.’

  ‘Yes, I’m sure she did. But the doctors ask a lot about their patients’ circumstances. As you are in charge of your family, I’m afraid you’ll have to be prepared for questions of this nature.’

  Lizzie sniffed. ‘Yes, I suppose so.’

  ‘You have a lot of responsibility on those young shoulders,’ sighed the sister, shaking her head slowly. ‘And the expense can be no easier for you than it was for your mother.’

  ‘Except that I’ve got a job now.’ Lizzie didn’t want the authorities to think she couldn’t afford to look after Flo.