by Carol Rivers
‘You waited, then?’ Danny murmured, taking hold of her hands. ‘You waited all that time?’
She nodded, his warm, strong fingers around hers. Frank had robbed them of a life together. He had done it coldly, calculatingly. In that moment she hated Frank. He had used her. He had never loved her. He had only loved himself.
‘You know I named Tom after your dad, don’t you?’ Danny said softly.
Lizzie had guessed and she nodded, her heart full.
‘What are we going to do, gel?’ Danny asked her.
‘What do you mean?’
‘You didn’t answer my question.’
‘Frank is . . . still my husband.’
‘Lil said you ain’t lived with him for five years.’
‘It won’t make no difference. He won’t like you coming back.’
‘I ain’t bothered what he likes. I’m bothered about us.’
‘What about Elsa?’
Danny sat back, squaring his shoulders. ‘I told you, she died.’
‘You haven’t said much about her.’
There was a long pause before he replied. ‘There’s not a lot to know. Like I said, she was from Sweden and trying to make a new life in Australia. A lot of the immigrants suffered because of the heat, especially those from cold countries. She . . . she was. . . not very strong.’
‘Is that why she died so young?’
He nodded. ‘The climate didn’t suit her.’
There were so many things Lizzie didn’t understand. Danny seemed reluctant to talk about his life in Australia, especially Elsa. Had he loved her so much that even now he couldn’t bear to talk about her death? Then there was the letter. Even if Danny had believed the things Frank had written, he could still have come home to see for himself. If she meant anything to him, wouldn’t he do that? But she knew she was blaming Danny for Frank’s deception. Why shouldn’t he believe Frank? He was his brother, after all. Unlike Frank, Danny had a trusting nature.
‘Will you stay with Lil?’ she asked after a while.
‘Only until I can find a place. Lizzie, it’s not too late for us.’
He gripped her small hands in his large ones. She gazed into his deep blue eyes. Frank had robbed them of a past. Danny wanted to claim a future but she couldn’t bring herself to deceive Frank the way he had deceived her.
She slid her hands from his fingers. ‘I have to go now. I told Bill I wouldn’t be long.’
‘When will I see you again?’
‘I don’t know.’ She made herself walk away and tears filled her eyes. She still loved him, after all these years.
Lizzie was pleased when Christmas was over. Usually she loved it. But this year she had worried Frank would turn up. She opened the shop on New Year’s Day to the familiar sound of her customers’ complaints. Unemployment was rife. All day the talk in the shop was of the men threatening to demonstrate. The women were full of it. Yet another government crisis had provoked anger. ‘All we want is work,’ everyone said, ‘and a fair day’s wage and what do we get? Sod all!’
Most families on the island hadn’t had a shilling for the meter let alone money for Christmas. What little spare there was had been spent in the pub. The first day of January was cold and bleak in more ways than one.
At six o’clock they were closing up and the doorbell went. Lizzie was in the storeroom, sweeping the floor. Bill called out, ‘I’ll see to it.’
Lizzie was thinking of what she had to prepare for dinner. There was plenty of bubble and squeak left over from Christmas. She stretched her back, the strain on it from the day’s exercise seeming greater than ever. Perhaps it was the bitter cold. She had expected Lil to come by, but she hadn’t. Bert had said Danny was out every day looking for a place. Had he met Frank? No, he couldn’t have. He would have told Lil or Bert if he had.
Just then she heard Bill enter the storeroom. ‘I won’t be a minute,’ she called over her shoulder. ‘I’ll just put the broom away—’
‘Hello, Auntie Lizzie.’
She swung round, her eyes widening as she saw who it was. ‘Tom!’ Danny stood beside him, a big smile on his face.
Bill bent down to his grandson. ‘Well, this is a surprise, you coming to see yer old Grandad.’ The old man ruffled the boy’s untidy fair hair.
Lizzie stared at Danny, her heart beating fast. Her aching limbs and the pain in her back was forgotten. This was the Danny she used to know, dressed in working clothes, an open-necked shirt and jacket. There were streaks of dirt across his face and brick dust covered his trousers.
‘Happy New Year,’ he said softly.
She had almost forgotten what day it was. ‘Happy New Year, Danny . . . Tom . . .’ She bent down to give Tom a big hug.
‘I’ve found a place at Morley’s Wharf,’ Danny told her.
‘Morley’s Wharf by the bridge?’ Bill asked.
‘That’s right. An old warehouse. I’m doing it up. Tom and me moved in today.’
Lizzie glanced at Bill, whose face told her that he, too, was shocked at the news. ‘It’s cold in here,’ she said quickly when she saw Tom shiver. ‘Let’s go downstairs.’
Bill nodded, looking brighter. ‘Right you are. I’ll just get me baccy tin.’
‘Is Polly home?’ Tom asked eagerly as they all left the shop and Bill locked up for the night.
Lizzie nodded. ‘She’s going to be surprised when she sees you, young man.’
‘I want to tell her I’m starting school soon.’ Tom looked up at his father as they stood in the cold, dark street. ‘Aren’t I, Dad?’ he said proudly.
Later that evening, Polly and Tom were playing dominoes by the fire. The four adults were sitting at the kitchen table, talking quietly. Lizzie had made a meal of cold meat and crusty slices of white bread. The dirty plates were piled on the draining board. Flo was smoking a Woodbine, her elbows on the table. Danny was sipping his tea. Bill sat next to his son, his gnarled old fingers drumming on his baccy tin.
The talk had been of all that had happened in the years since Danny had left. Danny told them about Australia and his work with the mining company.
‘Well, I hope you’ve considered yer brother,’ said Bill at last as he rolled another cigarette. ‘He tried to stop you coming home once before. Likely he’ll try again.’
‘I’ll face that problem when I come to it,’ Danny replied tightly.
‘Frank’s in with a rough bunch.’
‘This is me home, Dad. And Tom’s, too.’ Danny looked down at the mug in front of him. ‘Frank owes me an explanation.’
‘Well, you can talk to ’im,’ Bill interrupted again. ‘But it won’t do you no good. Just watch yer back, son. That’s my advice.’
‘Is there a place to sleep in this ’ere warehouse?’ Flo changed the subject and puffed a cloud of smoke into the air.
‘There’s an office.’
‘What, you’ll sleep in an office?’ Lizzie exclaimed in horror.
‘It’ll do us for a bit.’
‘Blimey, you ain’t joking about all this, are you?’ Flo croaked.
‘No, I’m not,’ Danny replied. ‘I’ve found the right place. There’s even a hole in the middle of the floor where they stored the grain. Once we’ve got rid of the rats, it’ll do for an inspection pit.’
‘Rats!’ shrieked Lizzie and Flo together.
Danny laughed. ‘The rat catcher’s coming tomorrow. Then Tom and me will make a start on the mending. Some beams need replacing.’
‘How are you gonna find business, son?’ Bill asked. ‘There ain’t much doing in the docks.’
‘Not on the boats, Dad, but the factories run lorries.’ Danny’s voice was filled with enthusiasm. Everyone stared at him. ‘Tom and me did the rounds. I’ve talked with the bosses. They send their wagons up to the city or beyond for repair. I’ve told them I can do the work in half the time, at half the price, once I’ve bought me tools and got the place set up.’
‘Blimey, that was quick work.’ Bill spluttered on hi
s cigarette.
‘It’s what I want, Dad. I know I can make a go of things. I also know what you’re all thinking. That I’m asking for trouble. That I should disappear again. Well, I’m sorry you all feel that way. But you don’t think I came all the way back from Australia just to leave again, do you?’
Bill gave one of his loud sniffs. ‘It’s just that things have changed.’
‘The island is my home,’ Danny replied. ‘Now it’s Tom’s. I’ve told him all about England since he was old enough to understand. After Elsa died, I promised meself I’d provide him with the two things his mother didn’t have, a future and a family. Elsa had no relations in Australia and very few in Sweden. So I decided Tom’s future was here, on the island, where I grew up. If he takes a shine to mechanics, he’ll come into the business with me. He looked round the table at each one of them.
‘I wish it was that simple, son,’ Bill sighed.
‘Yeah, you don’t know yer brother.’ Flo stated what they were all thinking.
Lizzie was afraid, not for herself, but for Danny. He didn’t know the kind of person Frank had changed into. Just then the two children ran into the kitchen.
‘Don’t go,’ Polly pleaded as Danny got up. ‘We ain’t finished our dominoes yet.’
He ruffled her dark hair. ‘We’ve got a long walk back.’
‘I’ll take you on the cart.’ Bill rose creakily to his feet.
‘You need a motor van, Dad,’ Danny grinned. ‘I’ll fix one up for you.’
‘How the ’ell am I gonna drive one of them things!’ exclaimed Bill.
‘Easy, Grandad,’ giggled Tom. ‘I’ll teach you.’
‘Can he drive?’ Flo stared at Tom.
Danny laughed. ‘You bet he can.’
‘Well, I’ll be blowed.’ Bill grinned, pushing back his cap. ‘Tell me, lad, how much hay does one of these ’ere motor vans eat?’
Everyone burst into laughter. Despite her worries, Lizzie joined in. A happy family – the kind that Danny had imagined for Tom – was something she, too, had always dreamed of. She had first stood in this kitchen eleven years ago when Danny had told her he was going to Australia. Now he was back again. But what did the future hold, she wondered anxiously?
It was a freezing cold Sunday at the end of February. Lizzie sat next to Bert on the cart. She was shivering, even though she’d put on her warmest coat, her brown leather gloves and woollen scarf.
‘I said we wouldn’t be too long,’ she shouted at Bert above the clatter of the wheels. ‘Flo’s keeping an eye on Pol till we get back.’
Bert nodded, his forehead creased in a deep frown. ‘Yeah, all right. The old boy ain’t so fast these past few weeks, though.’
Lizzie knew Bert was worried. Benji had been off colour, his movements slow and laboured. He refused his nosebags and didn’t want to leave his stable in the mornings. ‘What’s wrong with him?’
‘Dunno. Getting old I s’pose. Must be gone seventeen now.’
Lizzie nodded, recalling that Benji had looked ancient even twelve years ago, with his grey-brown shaggy coat and huge ragged hooves.
Last night Bert and Bill had been talking about retiring him. The subject of a motor van had arisen. ‘See Danny in the morning,’ Bill had decided. Glancing at Lizzie, he had added, ‘You’d better go with Bert. He’s the one who’ll be driving it.’
She hadn’t seen Danny since New Year’s Day, but she got all the news from Bert. Danny had been teaching him how to drive. Surprisingly, Bert had taken to it like a fish to water.
Lizzie was curious to see what this place of Danny’s was like. Even Flo had been over to see it, Lil and Doug, too. But Lizzie was still worried about Frank. No one had seen him for months. She had even wondered if he had gone to prison and no one had told her.
‘That’s it.’ Bert nodded to a large, ramshackle warehouse standing on the wharf. It had a small door set in the wall and a lot of the windows had fallen out. There was a pile of old junk outside.
Bert reined Benji in. ‘’Old yer breath when you go inside,’ he warned Lizzie. ‘It stinks a bit.’ He helped her down from the cart and pushed open the small door. Petrol and oil fumes rushed out at her. Lizzie blinked, holding her breath. How could Danny work in that smell all day?
Bert pointed to the pair of legs under a lorry. ‘’Ello, mate!’
Danny emerged, wiping his face in the crook of his arm. His cheeks, nose and overalls were black with grease. He rested his elbow on his knee, blinking his eyes. He grinned when he saw who it was.
‘We come over about the motor van,’ Bert told him.
Lizzie tried to hide her embarrassment as she looked at Danny. ‘You did offer.’
‘Course I did. I’ve been giving Bert lessons in my old motor car, but I’ve got an engine that I’m doing up, just right for the shop.’
‘Could I drive it too?’ Lizzie asked boldly.
Danny scrambled to his feet. ‘All you need is a couple of lessons. There ain’t nothing to it, is there, Bert?’
Bert shook his big head, looking pleased with himself.
‘Well, do you want the grand tour?’ Danny asked.
Lizzie nodded. They walked the length of the warehouse, right to the end. ‘Those big doors there are where the trucks picked up the sacks deposited from the holds of the ships,’ Danny explained. ‘They’re big enough to let in the kind of lorries I’ll be repairing, like the one I’m working on today.’
‘What’s up there?’ Lizzie pointed to a narrow flight of wooden stairs. At the top was a door.
‘The office. I lock all me tools in there at night. Tom and me have got lodgings now, a few minutes away.’
‘What are you going to call yerself?’ Lizzie asked as they walked back down the warehouse.
‘Flowers and Son. Repairs and Reconstruction for all Motor Vehicles,’ Danny said proudly. ‘Got a sign I’m putting up next week.’
‘Tell her what that is, Danny.’ Bert pointed to a large chain hanging over a rafter. The end had a hook on it that dangled over the lorry.
‘It’s an engine hoist. Secured to this mechanical wheel, I can raise any size engine without help. And this is my inspection pit.’ He kneeled down and began to lift the loose planks that formed a square in the floor. ‘The rats have gone now, at least the big ones have.’ Below was a dark hole. Lizzie shrank back. She didn’t want to see a rat.
He looked up at her and laughed. There was a sparkle in his eye and she smelled the oil and grease on his skin; the heat rose from his warm body under the overalls. His hair was streaked with oil and dirt; he pushed it back from his face with a motion she recalled so well, and her heart missed a beat.
‘When are we gonna see the van?’ Bert asked, making her jump.
Danny replaced the boards in the floor. ‘It’s out the back, Bert. Go and have a look.’
Bert hurried off eagerly. Danny rose to his feet. ‘I’m glad you came. I was beginning to think you never would.’
‘Benji’s getting old,’ she said, staring after Bert. ‘We need to replace him.’
‘Was that the reason you came?’
She wanted to say that seeing Danny was the only reason she had come. He was looking into her eyes to search for the truth. She knew he could read her thoughts. It hadn’t changed between them. It had always been like this. They didn’t need words. Slowly he drew her towards him.
‘I want to be with you and look after you,’ he told her then. ‘I want you and Polly to live with me and Tom.’
She was already shaking her head. ‘I can’t.’
‘Why not? What are you going to do when Dad retires? When Flo and Syd get married? Why shouldn’t our lives change for the better, too? I want to take care of you and Polly. I love, you, Lizzie, I always have.’
All these years and now he was offering her a future. It was all she had ever dreamed of. It was all she had ever wanted. Even the scandal she could bear if it was just herself. But there were the children to consider; Polly and Tom wou
ld be ridiculed, made fun of at school. Winks and nods would follow them.
‘I know I could make you happy, Lizzie.’
Could she be happy, a married woman living with another man? Some women attempted it. But for her there was always the guilt, the knowledge that Frank had been right – that she had never stopped loving Danny.
Just then Bert shouted from the top of the warehouse. They broke apart as they heard his footsteps hurrying towards them.
‘It’s a little cracker, Danny,’ Bert shouted as he neared, out of breath. ‘Does it go?’
Danny looked away, running his hand through his hair. ‘Yeah, it goes, Bert.’
‘Can I start it up?’
Lizzie watched Danny pull a bunch of keys from his overall pocket. Then, giving a soft sigh, he nodded towards the door.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
All the bitterness rose up in him. It swelled in his throat, like bile. Frank clenched his hands into fists and let the anger grow.
‘I don’t like all this hanging around,’ Vinnie muttered. ‘What we waiting for?’
Frank stared through the windscreen, his pale blue eyes darting from the figure of his brother stooping over the van’s engine to the tall, ungainly form of Bert Allen. ‘We’re waiting for the right moment. I ain’t held off all these months just to go and rush things.’ Frank wanted to savour his revenge. He wanted the odds in his favour. So far, his plans were going well; it was a bit of luck – her coming to Morley’s Wharf.
Frank relaxed back on the front seat of the large black car. He had parked it on the waste ground by the bridge. Used as a rubbish tip by the locals, it made the perfect cover.
Frank narrowed his eyes. ‘We’ll wait till they leave. Then go in.’
‘What if the Old Bill show up?’
‘Why should they? No one’s gonna know what’s happening in there. It’s simple. We go in and do the business.’
‘Well, I don’t like it.’
Frank’s eyes were cold as he glanced at his brother-in-law. ‘And I ain’t liked what you’ve lumbered me with over the years, either. So we’re quits, ain’t we?’