Lily of Love Lane

by Carol Rivers

  Suddenly there was a tap at the front door. Lily jumped up. Was it Hattie? But when she got to the door, she couldn’t believe her eyes. It was Charles Grey.

  ‘Good evening, Lily,’ he said, politely removing his hat. Just beyond him she saw the ruby red car parked in the street.

  ‘Oh, Mr – er, Charles,’ she corrected herself, blushing.

  ‘I’m extremely sorry for intruding on your evening.’

  ‘Is something the matter?’

  ‘No, but—’

  ‘Lily, who is it?’ Her mother’s footsteps came down the hall. Lily heard a gasp.

  ‘Goodness gracious – is it your gentleman?’

  Lily blushed to the roots of her hair. She daren’t look at Charles. She knew that her mother had made a good guess from the description she had given. Before she could make introductions, Charles Grey had stretched out his hand.

  ‘I’m so pleased to meet you, Mrs Bright. And equally apologetic for disturbing your family at this time of night.’

  ‘You aren’t,’ said her mother, taking the outstretched hand. ‘We can’t have you standing on the doorstep. Come in.’

  ‘But you must be busy.’

  ‘Not too busy to forget me manners,’ Josie cast her daughter a reproachful glance. ‘Let me take your coat and come along into the warm.’

  Before Lily had chance to speak, Charles Grey had stepped inside. Her uncle was charging towards them and her mother was taking their visitor’s heavy overcoat and hat.

  Lily watched, breathless and shocked, her heart beginning to pound in the way it always did whenever she saw this man. If she was dreaming, she had better pinch herself and wake up soon.

  In the kitchen Lily watched her mother put aside the big pot of stew.

  ‘We’ll have it later, ducks.’

  ‘I didn’t know he was coming,’ Lily was flustered.

  ‘He’s more than welcome.’

  ‘I don’t know what he wants,’ Lily was all fingers and thumbs as she made the tea. She hadn’t told her family she was seeing Charles on Sunday. What if he told them?

  ‘Best china, Lily.’

  ‘Oh yes.’

  ‘Now, whilst you’re doing that, I’ll go and put on my other cardigan.’

  Lily watched her mother hurry off. Then she looked down at her own clothes. She hadn’t changed from her working skirt and blouse and well worn navy blue jumper. She was even wearing her old boots! The bootmender had stitched round the soles at least. Lily looked in the half mirror over the draining board in which her father and uncle shaved. It had been broken for years but no one had bothered to replace it. She tidied her hair, running her fingers through the waves. She looked very pale. It was probably the shock of finding Charles Grey on the doorstep!

  When she took in the tea Charles Grey had made himself comfortable on the couch. One long, tailored leg was crossed over the other and he smiled up at her.

  ‘You shouldn’t have gone to the trouble, Lily.’

  She gave him the white, bone china cup taken from the best set. Then handed a cup and saucer each to her father and uncle.

  ‘Thanks, ducks.’

  ‘Lovely, Lil.’

  Her mother came in the door. ‘Has everyone got a drink?’

  ‘Yes, Mum.’ Lily smiled. Her mother had taken off her turban and put on a neat cardigan.

  ‘We was just discussing the docks,’ said her uncle as they all made themselves comfortable. ‘And those ruddy skin ships.’

  Lily glanced slyly at Charles Grey. He hadn’t batted an eyelid at her uncle’s language. In fact he seemed as much at home in their front room as he had at Dewar Street.

  ‘These dreadful conditions should not be allowed to exist,’ he said as he gazed at her father. ‘Certainly they must explain this bout of ill health, Mr Bright.’

  ‘Without the skin boats I would be out of pocket,’ said her father weakly. ‘Me and other casuals who don’t have a permanent ticket.’

  ‘To be forced into such a diabolical situation is unthinkable.’

  ‘It’s been that way for years,’ dismissed Uncle Noah. ‘It’s all the island knows. The docks is like a living being; it thrives and it ails and I’m sorry to say in the Great Depression it ails more than it thrives.’

  ‘But surely the employers must take into consideration the health of their workforce?’ posed their guest.

  Bob Bright shook his head slowly. ‘They couldn’t give a monkey’s uncle, sir. In fact, our distress suits them. There’s always competition for the jobs and those that drop out ain’t missed. After the war, for those that came home, we’d lost our positions. We was termed as casuals, and that’s where we’ve been ever since.’

  ‘And your union? What help do you receive from them?’

  ‘Bugger all,’ said Uncle Noah angrily. ‘They’re as bad as the PLA and the politicians. Them bosses line their own pockets first, always have done.’

  ‘It’s true,’ Bob Bright nodded, hitting his chest as his voice weakened, ‘in ’twenty-six we had the first general strike in history. The TUC was all promises to back the miners, and any of us that suffered repercussions from trade stopping,’ he paused, getting his breath. ‘We’ll give you food and see you through, said the union mouthpiece. We’ll see to it your families don’t starve and you don’t go cold. When the country seizes up, we’ll make sure you’re looked after. But what happened? The men, the workers, was hung out to dry.’ He rested back in his chair, breathing heavily. ‘Over six thousand of us went begging to the city wallahs, blokes I know who would’ve carved off an arm or a leg there and then to end the fiasco. But what happened? We lost our jobs after that, was thrown crumbs as we were so desperate and all because of promises broken. The unions, Baldwin, MacDonald, they’re all the same, don’t even breathe the same air as us. And you know what gets me, Mr Grey? We fought a war, was given exactly the same promises then. And what’s happened? We’re still starving. My daughter has to go out and work all hours to support a family that a man can’t. She’s twenty, a kid . . .’ Her father’s voice broke with emotion and he began to cough.

  ‘Shush now, Bob,’ her mother said, jumping up to help her husband drink water from a glass. ‘Mr Grey don’t want to know about our problems.’

  ‘On the contrary, Mrs Bright,’ Charles said gently, ‘your husband has enlightened me.’

  Lily looked at their guest. What would he think of them? Of her? He came from a different world.

  ‘So what’s your line of trade?’ Uncle Noah said in a suspicious tone, as he regarded Charles Grey.

  ‘I buy and sell furniture and interesting curios,’ Charles replied. ‘Some of which I export.’

  ‘You’re onto a good thing there.’

  ‘Yes, the profession can be lucrative.’

  ‘I was in the rag and bone business. Had a few nice pieces meself.’

  ‘Indeed, Lily has spoken of it.’

  Uncle Noah grinned. ‘She’s a Jill of all trades, our girl. Is a cracker on an ’orse too.’

  Once more Lily blushed. How could she expect someone like Charles Grey to be interested in her life?

  ‘She rode old Samson round the yard without a saddle, light as any jockey,’ her uncle continued to her embarrassment. ‘And could drive that cart as good as me by the time she was six.’

  Charles Grey looked into her eyes, ‘A young woman of many talents.’ He allowed his gaze to linger on her and then suddenly rose to his feet. ‘I’ve taken up enough of your time,’ he apologized in a sharp voice. ‘I do hope I haven’t worn out my welcome.’

  ‘You come in any time you’re round this way,’ Josie replied. ‘We shall always be pleased to see you.’

  ‘Don’t mind if I don’t stand up,’ said her father.

  Charles bent and took his hand. ‘It’s been a privilege to meet you, sir.’

  Lily watched as he did the same with Uncle Noah. ‘I’ll see you out,’ she said quickly, averting her eyes from his.

  At the front door, Li
ly helped him on with his coat. ‘It’s been a splendid half hour, Lily.’

  ‘All you’ve heard is our complaints.’

  ‘This is the real world and I am ashamed I have been ignorant of such hardship.’

  Lily opened the door and he stepped out.

  ‘Oh, I’d forgotten entirely what I came for!’ Charles exclaimed as his breath rose up in the cold air. His eyes were so dark and beautiful that Lily felt breathless. ‘I’m afraid on Sunday I’ve been called away on business.’

  Even though Lily was about to tell him that she, too, couldn’t keep their appointment, she felt disappointed. Had he decided that what he had seen of their home and her family was not good enough for him?

  ‘I’m so sorry.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter.’ She didn’t want him to see how much this hurt, and she wondered what he really thought of them.

  ‘Could we possibly meet the following Sunday?’

  Lily’s heart almost stopped. He wasn’t making an excuse; he did want to see her after all! ‘That is, of course, if your father is improved.’ His face was full of concern. He smiled and it was one of his wonderful smiles that seemed to light up even the road.

  She nodded, but even as she did so, she was not sure whether he really meant what he said.

  Chapter Seven

  On Sunday, Bob Bright got dressed. He shaved his growth of beard and sat downstairs in his chair, reading the newspaper.

  ‘I’ll be as right as rain tomorrow,’ he told Lily, who, with her mother, made him promise to rest for a few more days.

  ‘So when are we going to see Mr Grey again?’ asked Lily’s mother at the end of the day. The men had gone to bed and the two women were sitting in the parlour by the dying fire. They hadn’t spoken again of Charles Grey’s visit and Lily was surprised at the question. Had her mother been biding her time till now?

  ‘He wants me to go to Petticoat Lane next Sunday.’

  ‘What does he hope to find there?’

  ‘A bargain, I expect.’

  Josie was wearing her dressing gown and had her hair in pins. She raised her eyebrows as she picked up her knitting. ‘A lot’s been going on in your life, young lady.’

  Lily smiled. ‘Just work as usual.’

  ‘You know what I mean. What does this gent want with you? Why does he need you to buy things?’

  ‘Because I’m quite good at it.’

  ‘Don’t get too big for your boots now.’

  No one seemed to give her much credit for her knowledge, Lily thought despondently. Even her parents took for granted what she did for a living.

  Her mother sighed. ‘Like your dad says, it don’t do much for your pride when your daughter has to bring in the money.’

  ‘Pride’s expensive, Mum. It’s a home to live in that counts.’

  ‘You’ve got an old head on young shoulders, love.’

  Lily laughed. ‘I hope it don’t look that old.’

  Her mother looked up, her faded blue eyes on her daughter. ‘If you did, Mr Grey wouldn’t be asking you to work for him.’

  Lily frowned. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘If you were old and grey I don’t suppose he’d want you.’

  ‘If I was old and grey I wouldn’t want his job.’

  Josie smiled. ‘You ain’t going to answer my question are you?’

  Lily smiled back. ‘Which one?’

  ‘What if he wants more?’

  Lily felt a flush flow up her neck and into her cheeks. ‘Mum, he ain’t from our world. If you saw his house, you’d know.’

  ‘Lily, he’s a single older man and you are a beautiful young woman. And he’s lonely . . .’ Her mother looked deep into her eyes. ‘Just a small word of advice, ducks. If he’s a true gent, he’ll make things proper. He won’t—’ she paused as she chose her words, but ended with, ‘try it on.’

  Lily laughed. ‘Course he won’t, Mum!’

  ‘Men are the same the world over no matter who they are.’

  ‘Mum, he’s a gentleman!’

  ‘As long as he remembers he is.’

  ‘He wouldn’t “try anything on”.’

  Josie folded her arms. ‘I’m just saying, as you’ve never really had a boy, only Ben.’

  Lily laughed even more. ‘Ben is like me brother.’

  ‘Well, if you say so. To my mind – and your father’s – we’d always hoped that marriage might be on the cards for you two.’

  Lily didn’t laugh this time. Her mum was serious. ‘Ben ain’t ever been romantic, Mum. I’ve always pitied the girl he’d end up with as he’s such a flirt.’

  Josie’s eyebrows went up again. ‘He may only be a flirt in front of you. What does he think of your Mr Grey?’

  Lily shrugged. ‘It’s not his business.’

  Josie sat back in the chair and sighed. ‘Just make sure that you always remember you’re a lady. And that’s with a capital “L”.’

  As Lily lay in bed that night, she recalled the praise that Charles had given her in a business sense. It was nice to be told you had a talent. She wondered if he really would call for her next Sunday. Lily shivered as she thought of how she was beginning to feel about him. The notion of seeing him again made her feel alive and joyful.

  Her thoughts drifted to Ben. Was her mother right? That he pretended to be a flirt to hide his feelings for her? But Lily couldn’t believe that; they had known each other too long to feel anything more than brother and sisterly love.

  She drew the covers over her as she imagined Charles Grey and his lovely dark eyes. It was a long while before she fell asleep.

  It was Wednesday when Ben called round. He showed her four tickets he had bought for a dance on Saturday.

  ‘I know it’s a bit short notice, but I’ve just managed to get hold of them. Nudge, nudge, wink, wink, if you know what I mean.’

  ‘Who from?’

  ‘A mate of mine. They were two and six each to him, but I got him down to a bob. Anyway, the evening’s on me and Reube, you girls are in for a treat.’

  Lily looked away. ‘I wish you’d asked me first, Ben.’

  He frowned as they stood in the hallway. ‘Why’s that?’

  ‘Well . . .’ She was trying to think of an excuse. On Sunday morning she was going to Petticoat Lane with Charles and had planned to wash her hair on Saturday night and iron out her clothes. But instead she murmured, ‘Dad’s not gone back to work yet.’

  ‘Is he still ill, then?’

  ‘No, he’s a lot better, but I think I should stay in.’

  Her mum came out of the kitchen. ‘Hello, son. It’s nice to see you. How are you doing?’

  ‘Fine thanks, Mrs Bright.’ He shifted from foot to foot. ‘Er, I was just asking Lil if she’d come to a dance on Saturday at the town hall but she’s worried about her dad.’

  Josie Bright smiled at her daughter. ‘You go and enjoy yourself, love, you’ve not been out at all lately.’

  ‘But Mum—’

  ‘Your dad would be upset if he thought you refused because of him.’

  ‘I’ll give you a ride in me new motor,’ said Ben, sticking out his chest proudly.

  ‘Have you bought it yet?’ asked Josie.

  ‘You bet!’

  ‘Well, we’ll all want a go in that. Do we have to book seats?’

  Ben laughed. ‘Course not. You and Mr Bright are welcome to come for a spin any day of the week.’

  Josie chuckled. ‘I’ll keep you to that as soon as my other half is better.’ She went back into the kitchen.

  ‘So that’s settled then!’ Ben exclaimed. ‘We’ll pick you up at half six. Doors open at seven.’ He went to rush off then stopped, raising his hand to his head. ‘I’ve just had a thought! Tell your dad I heard of a timber yard job going this morning. I’ll make enquiries to see what it’s about and let him know later.’

  ‘Oh, all right. Thanks.’

  He gave her a wink as he left.

  Lily closed the door and leaned heavily against i
t. How could she have refused going to the dance without offending him? And why had her feelings changed? Dances were always enjoyable with her friends, but now, after what her mum had said, it seemed different.

  ‘Who was that?’ her dad asked when she went in the parlour and sat down.

  ‘Just Ben.’

  ‘Nice youngster that,’ said Bob Bright.

  ‘He said he’s going to ask after a job for you with the timber people.’

  Bob Bright lowered his newspaper, looking suddenly like his old self. ‘A timber job, you say?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘They don’t come up very often. That’s good of the lad.’

  ‘What would you have to do?’

  ‘Stack all the timbers, I expect.’

  ‘That’s a heavy job, Dad.’

  Bob Bright laughed and patted his daughter’s hand. ‘You women are never satisfied. What would you like me to do? Work in a stuffy old office all day?’

  Lily wanted to say that was exactly what she wanted, somewhere nice and warm and far away from the infected carcasses of the skin ships.

  ‘That boy’s a good ’un,’ remarked Bob Bright, giving her a knowing look. ‘The type of lad I could look on as a son.’

  Lily looked into her dad’s hopeful eyes. How could she tell him that she wasn’t interested in Ben that way?

  It was Saturday night and Lily was pleased with her appearance. She had been reluctant to go to the dance, but now, as she looked in the mirror, some of the old excitement had returned. They had left market early as Reube wanted to wash and change too. Now Lily was dressed in a deep pink georgette dress, with a twenties style dropped waist. She had bought it second-hand years ago, but after adding three strands of beads, all in different shades of grey, and a deep grey chiffon scarf, it looked quite attractive. Although she had no matching footwear, her bar strap shoes went well enough. Having washed her hair the night before, Lily had tried to straighten it overnight. Carefully dampening it and tying on a scarf, it had been much straighter this morning. But later, in a brief shower of rain, it had sprung back into its bouncy waves. Borrowing a thin strand of pink silk from an under bodice, she looped it across her forehead and tied it at the back of her head. The idea had been fashionable in the twenties, but was it now? What would Hattie wear? The last time the four of them had been out together was late summer. The dance had been held at the Dockland Settlement, a club for the young people of the island. It had been a wonderful evening. She’d last worn this dress then, but had teamed it with a blue overblouse. Would anyone recognize it tonight?