by Carol Rivers
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.
‘It’s how we speak in Australia.’
Polly giggled. ‘It’s nice. I like it.’
Lizzie placed a slice of birthday cake in front of Tom, then picked up the teapot and began washing it. Danny rose from the table. He came to stand beside her and grinned. ‘You’re going to scrub the pattern off if you’re not careful.’
She realized what she was doing and stopped.
‘It’s a bit of a shock, me turning up, I suppose?’ He took the teapot from her hands and dried it with the cloth.
Lizzie nodded. ‘I’m sorry to hear about your wife.’
He hesitated as though about to say something, but then was quiet.
‘Was she ill?’ Lizzie asked.
‘Elsa died of pneumonia.’
‘Elsa? That’s an unusual name.’
‘Yes, it’s Swedish.’ He said no more, continuing to turn the teapot in his hands. After a while he spoke again. ‘We didn’t mean to interrupt your party. Dad wasn’t home. Then we heard all the noise coming from down here.’
Lizzie realized he didn’t want to talk of his wife. Perhaps it was still painful to do so. She poured hot water into the teapot. ‘Bill’s at Gertie’s house. They’ll be here soon.’ She looked up at him, unable to resist a smile as she thought of Bill’s reaction to seeing his long lost son. ‘Your dad’s going to have a shock when he sees you.’
Danny laughed. ‘Yeah, I ’spect he will.’ His smile faded as he looked into Lizzie’s eyes. ‘We’ve got a lot of news to catch up on.’
Lizzie didn’t know if he was referring to her or Bill. So many thoughts were milling about in her head. Tom must have been very young when his mother died. Had Danny raised him on his own?
Just then, Lil came into the kitchen. ‘As usual, I’m interrupting,’ she cackled, coughing on her cigarette. ‘Have you got somewhere to stay, yet, ducks?’
‘No, we’ve come straight from Tilbury,’ Danny replied with a shrug.
‘Well, I’ve just had a word with Bert.’ Lil puffed out a cloud of smoke. ‘He said he’ll kip on the mattress downstairs if you and Tom want his room for a couple of nights whilst yer looking for a place. C
ourse, you might want to stay with yer dad, but I thought I’d make the offer.’
‘Are you sure?’ Danny sounded relieved. ‘I don’t want to put you out.’
‘You won’t.’ Lil chuckled. ‘That boy of yours looks as though he’s getting on all right with our Pol.’
‘Yeah, he does, doesn’t he?’ Danny was grinning. Turning his back to the two children, he said softly, ‘Who does Polly belong to?’
‘She’s Babs’,’ Lizzie told him.
Lil raised her eyebrows. ‘Yeah, well, that’s a matter of opinion,’ she muttered under her breath. ‘Anyway, if you want to come home to us later, I’ll do you a bit of grub and fill the bath up for that boy of yours. He can have a good soak and then have an early night. Strikes me he’s about all in.’ Lil nodded to the teapot. ‘Why don’t I make the tea whilst you two have a chat.’
Lizzie blushed. She didn’t want everyone watching them; all eyes and ears seemed to be directed towards the kitchen.
‘To be honest, Lil,’ Danny said softly, ‘me and Tom are pretty bushed. I think we’d better leave the chatting to another day. And anyway, this is Polly’s party. We ain’t going to spoil it for her.’
Lizzie glanced at Danny gratefully.
Lil looked at them both and then at the children. Lighting up another cigarette, she nodded slowly, exhaling on a long breath. Finally she turned back to Danny. ‘Well, me and Doug will be leaving before it gets dark. You’re welcome to join us.’
Danny smiled. Lizzie saw his chest rise gently in a sigh. ‘Thanks, Lil, that’ll do fine.’
Lizzie knew it was a sigh of relief, because she felt that way too.
Lizzie was feeling very strange the next morning. She dressed quickly and prepared breakfast wondering if she’d dreamed all yesterday’s events. But Polly rushed into the kitchen in her nightdress, all her questions confirming it hadn’t been a dream.
‘Eat your porridge,’ Lizzie had told her firmly in the end. ‘You’ll be late and Flo won’t have time to drop you at school.’
‘I don’t want to go to school.’
‘Why?’
‘Uncle Danny and Tom might come round.’
‘No they won’t. They’ve got lots of other things to do. Now, let’s get you dressed.’
Lizzie took Polly into the bedroom. Her mind wasn’t on what she was doing. It was going over last night when Lil and Doug had left and Danny and Tom had gone with them. Danny had said very little. She had watched them leave, still unable to believe he was back in England.
Gertie and Bill had turned up late. Bill was overwhelmed when he heard the news. He didn’t seem to be able to take it all in. Gertie had poured him a stiff drink but for the next hour he’d been unusually quiet.
Flo took Polly to school and Lizzie washed up the breakfast things. When she went up to the shop, Bill was waiting for her. ‘Don’t turn the sign on the door yet. Leave it closed,’ he muttered. ‘I’ve got a message for you.’
Lizzie stared at the old man. ‘Who from?’
Bill led the way into the storeroom. He closed the door firmly. ‘Danny.’
‘Danny?’ Lizzie’s heart crashed in her chest. ‘When did you speak to him?’
Bill looked weary, a growth of grey stubble on his chin. ‘I couldn’t rest,’ he explained as he sat on a sack of potatoes with a long sigh. ‘I went to Lil’s late last night after I walked Gertie home. Me and Danny had a long chat.’
Lizzie didn’t know what to ask first. ‘Is he really coming back to live on the island?’
‘He wants to open one of these new fangled garages. When he was in Australia he learned how to mend all them big lorries that the mines own.’
‘But I thought he went out to Australia to look for gold.’
‘He did, but he never found any. Instead, he met a bloke who taught him all about mechanical engines. That’s what he’s been doing all these years.’ Bill sucked in a deep breath.
‘But why didn’t he write, why didn’t he—’
‘I dunno, gel. You’ll have to ask him.’ Lizzie stared at her father-in-law. He didn’t seem to want to look her in the eye. She knew Bill knew something that he wasn’t telling her. ‘He said he’d see you up Island Gardens at twelve o’clock. You can have a bit of peace and quiet up there, with no one around.’
Lizzie sat down on a sack. Her legs suddenly felt lifeless. She felt as though she was doing something wrong. Going off up the park to meet Danny seemed underhand.
Bill was watching her. ‘Now, listen to me, gel, you don’t owe Frank nothing, not after the way he’s treated you.’
‘He’s still me husband.’
Bill shrugged. ‘Please yerself, but Frank’s gonna find out about Danny coming back. He ain’t gonna welcome him with open arms, is he? I tired to tell Danny what a sod Frank is. . . how he’s mixed up with a load of villains and, most important of all, that he don’t have no time for his brother. But Danny’s got a blind spot when it comes to Frank. So that bit’s up to you, love, I’m afraid.’ Bill stood up. ‘Don’t forget, twelve o’clock.’
Bill’s words went through her mind. She didn’t know what to do. She wanted to see Danny again. She wanted to look at him, to listen to his voice, to look into his eyes. And yet how could she feel this way when all those years ago he’d let her down so badly? Besides, for better or worse, she’d married Frank.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
She walked down the path to the river. The breeze blew across the park and a ship’s hooter sounded. The sun sprinkled its light on the water, a sun that was more summer than winter. Bill was right. The place was deserted. All the kids were at school. Everyone else had better things to do on a Monday.
Would Danny be there on the bench where they used to sit, she wondered? Pulling the soft fur collar of her coat up to her neck she hurried on. The small path gave way to green and the low well of the sand pit.
The park bench came into view. Her heart leaped. Danny was sitting there dressed in the coat he’d worn the day before. His elbows were on his knees, his head bent. When he heard her footsteps he looked up.
She looked both ways. Still there wasn’t a soul about.
‘I wasn’t sure you’d come,’ he greeted her, rising to his feet. ‘Sit down, get yer breath back.’ His accent was still cockney. It gave her a thrill of pleasure to hear it.
They sat down, saying nothing. Danny’s big blue eyes were staring at her. ‘You haven’t changed.’
‘I must have. I was only a girl then.’
‘You look the same to me.’
Lizzie turned to stare at the patch of green in front of them. ‘Why have you come back, Danny?’
‘Why do you think?’
She kept her gaze ahead. ‘Did you make your fortune?’
‘No. But I learned a lot.’
‘Is learning enough to live on?’ She looked slowly back at him.
‘I’m gonna give it a try. Open a garage. Build up me own business.’
‘A garage? You mean for motor vehicles?’
Danny nodded. ‘That’s me trade now. I learned out there, in Australia. Mending the big lorries that cart the rubble away from the mines. It’s big business keeping them monsters going. A good bloke taught me. I’d never have got a trade if it wasn’t for him.’
Lizzie looked at the man whom she had known as a boy. She hardly knew this stranger. He had spent eleven long years away. They had changed and they both knew it.
He looked down at his big workworn hands. ‘Lil told me a lot last night. Then Dad came round and added his bit. But I’d like to hear it from you.’
‘What do you want to know?’
He turned slowly, his eyes full of confusion. ‘What are your feelings for Frank?’
She wasn’t ready for that question. It was the last thing that she was thinking of. She didn’t know if she’d ever loved him. It was a terrible admission, but it was true. She had married him for security and because he had asked her, as she had once confided to Ethel.
‘Lil told me something,’ Danny went on when she didn’t answer. ‘She said you never received my letters.’
‘What letters?’
‘The ones I wrote to you from Australia.’
‘Well, none ever came.’ Was he telling her the truth? Or was it just an excuse?
‘I sent the first one from Sydney. I arranged with the post office to send any that came for me to Adelaide, where I was going.’
‘But I . . . I never received any. I waited . . . and waited. Months, years. . . but a letter never came.’
‘I kept going back to the post office. The only letter that came was from Frank. He said I shouldn’t write again to you. He said I should write to him, that he’d let me know how things were going.’
‘Why would he say that?’
‘You mean you didn’t know?’
She shook her head. ‘When was all this?’
‘Christmas, nineteen twenty-one. I drove in from the bush to Adelaide and there was this letter from England, waiting for me. I thought – at last – it was one from you. But it was from Frank. He wrote you’d got engaged in the summer, that you were marrying in spring. He said you had asked him to write and tell me. I couldn’t believe it. I read it a dozen times over.’
‘But it wasn’t true,’ Lizzie said in bewilderment. ‘It was nineteen twenty-five when we married.’
Danny stared at her. ‘You mean . . . three years later?’
‘And our engagement was only for nine months.’
His face went ashen. ‘So . . . Frank lied,’ Danny whispered, his breath hushed. ‘Me own brother . . . lied to me . . . deceived me. But why – why would he do that? He knew you were my girl, that I was coming back for you . . .’
Lizzie felt sick. The years rolled away. There she was, sitting on a bus beside Frank. It was in London, 1921, and they were on their way to visit Flo. Frank had put his arm along the seat behind her. ‘I wouldn’t give you a shilling for the likes of Sydney,’ he had said. She had asked him why he had said ‘Sydney’, thinking he might have heard from Danny. And the truth was, he had, only the letter was meant for her and somehow he had got hold of it and—
Lizzie closed her eyes. Oh, why hadn’t she known? Why had she allowed herself to be fooled? Frank had lied not only to Danny, but to her, and she had believed his lies. She didn’t know what had happened to Danny’s letters. But she believed he had written them.