Lily of Love Lane

by Carol Rivers

  Her mother put her head round the door. ‘You nearly ready, ducks?’ she called. Then when she saw Lily she came in. ‘You look lovely, Lily.’

  ‘Do I?’

  ‘That pink suits you. It makes your eyes bluer.’

  ‘As long as it don’t make me eyes look pink!’ Lily laughed.

  ‘That’s better. It’s nice to see you smile. It worries me that you don’t get the chance to go out and dress up like young girls should.’

  ‘I’m happy, Mum. You shouldn’t worry over me. I’d get meself a job in a factory, you know, if I thought it would keep Dad off the skin boats.’

  Josie smiled radiantly. ‘You won’t have to do that, love. You’ll be pleased to know he won’t be going on them any more.’

  Lily gasped. ‘I thought he wasn’t going to take any notice of what we said?’

  ‘You thought right, he wasn’t.’

  ‘What’s made him change his mind?’

  ‘Young Ben James.’

  ‘Ben?’ Lily frowned. ‘He persuaded Dad not to go?’

  ‘He got your dad the timber job.’

  Lily walked slowly towards her mother. ‘He did? How?’

  ‘The Good Lord only knows. But Ben called by this morning and took your father up to the yard and he was taken on.’

  ‘You mean Dad’s got the job?’

  Her mother nodded. ‘The wage mind, ain’t so good, just fifteen bob a week, but we’ll be fifteen bob better off with your dad breathing fresh air and not skins.’

  Lily grabbed her mother’s arm. Tears sprang to her eyes. ‘Oh, Mum, that’s wonderful.’

  ‘I hope you’ll remember to say that to Ben.’ Her mother smiled anxiously at her.

  ‘Of course I will. I’m very grateful.’

  ‘We all are.’ Her mother’s eyes were conveying a message. But Lily didn’t want to acknowledge it. She knew that her parents felt grateful to Ben for his good deed. They were hoping that tonight would make a difference to what she had said about her feelings for him.

  Lily turned away and picked up her purse. The tears of relief for her father had quickly evaporated as she began to think what this would mean to her personally.

  It was hot and stuffy on the town hall dance floor. Crowded with couples with their arms wound round each other, it was hard to breathe. So now they had come to sit down at the table and drink their lemonades.

  Lily had danced every dance, either with Reube or Ben. Once, when the boys had gone to buy drinks, she and Hattie had danced with strangers, two young men who were good at the waltz. They’d both giggled a lot afterwards as they sat in their seats.

  ‘Mine trod on me corn,’ said Hattie, rubbing her toe, trying to stifle her laughter as Lily nodded.

  ‘Mine had a grip like a vice. I thought he was glued to me hand,’ laughed Lily.

  When Reube and Ben returned, they pretended to get annoyed they’d been abandoned. Lily and Hattie said what good dancers the other two had been but couldn’t keep up the pretence as Reube and Ben had looked forlorn.

  It was now half past nine and the band had paused for refreshment. They had played a selection of boogie woogie and swing jazz tunes. Bodies had flown all over the place. Some couples had done the Lindy Hop from America and everyone had stood clear. Legs and arms went everywhere as the girls were thrown skywards and under their partner’s legs.

  The lights were up and the gleaming boards of the wooden floor were being cleared of any unwanted debris. As Lily and her friends laughed and joked, she thought of the good times they had always had together. She was lucky to have such a good dancing partner in Ben, he made every dance effortless, unlike the tailor’s dummy who had stuck to her like glue in the waltz. Reube wasn’t as smooth or talented with his steps, but he partnered Hattie perfectly who was very dramatic with her head, shoulders and facial expressions.

  The evening so far had been a success. They had travelled up in the charabanc, waving to the pedestrians as they passed. But parking had been a problem as Ben hadn’t quite got the hang of reversing. Ignoring the rude comments he’d drawn from his passengers, he had finally found a small stretch of wasteland close by.

  Now, as Lily gazed at Hattie and Reube they looked in love. As the lights began to dim, they held hands, with eyes only for each other. Hattie had worn a beautiful calf length chiffon dress and matching silk shoes. Her dark brown hair had been cut carefully into her preferred Eton Crop. Reube was wearing a dark suit and dickie-bow tie. Lily always noted that when Hattie wore shoes with a good heel, as she did tonight, Reube pulled himself up straight to partner her. Ben, on the other hand, was so lean and lanky he towered above Lily. Tonight he looked dashing in light grey. His brown hair was combed back and Lily thought she could smell a certain pomade, an exotic lotion, as she danced with him. These were her friends, and she loved them. But she was not in love with Ben, as Hattie was with Reube.

  ‘Hey, Funny Face! What are you thinking?’ Ben was staring at her, his arm around the back of her chair. His light grey eyes were bright and sparkling.

  ‘I was thinking about what you’ve done for me dad.’

  ‘You mean the job at the timber yard?’

  ‘Course I do. We don’t know how to thank you.’

  ‘I didn’t do it for thanks.’

  As there was no music there was no need to shout for the first time in the evening. Lily knew she had to make him see how grateful she was. ‘I know you didn’t, but it means he won’t have to go back to the docks.’

  ‘No one should have to do what he did there.’

  ‘That’s what Mum and me said to him, but he wouldn’t listen.’

  ‘Well, he has now.’

  ‘You must have done something, Ben, as there had to be others after that job.’

  He smiled slowly. ‘I shouted “Fire” and the others ran away.’

  ‘Now you’re kidding me.’

  He laughed and leaned forward. ‘No, honest, it was just that we struck lucky. And bear in mind, the wage ain’t a fortune.’ He lay his hand on her shoulder and gently pressed it. ‘Now p’raps you can have a bit of time off yourself.’

  ‘I’ll think about it.’ Lily could feel the warmth of his fingers and the gentle, intimate pressure that was different from ever before.

  ‘You’re only young, Lil. I don’t like to see you working so hard. Now that your dad is fixed up, you could drop the Saturday afternoons at market and come out with me.’

  Lily sat back a little. Had that been his intention when finding the job for her dad? Had he said anything about this to her parents?

  ‘Would you come out tomorrow morning for a drive?’ he asked when she didn’t speak.

  Lily didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but she knew she must tell him about Charles. ‘I’m sorry, Ben, but I can’t.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘I’m going out—’

  ‘On a Sunday morning?’ he interrupted, his hand dropping away. ‘Where to?’

  Lily swallowed and mustered her courage. ‘Charles Grey has asked me to help him buy more things at Petticoat Lane.’

  Lily saw the change in his expression. She wanted to dispel the coldness that suddenly came into his eyes, but as she was trying to think of something, the band began to play again.

  Hattie jumped up beside her. ‘Come on, you two lovebirds, this is a good one,’ she called as ‘I Can’t Give You Anything But Love Baby’ resounded out.

  Lily blushed as she looked back at Ben. He was still sitting down, his eyes staring up at her.

  As everyone crowded on the floor, Lily waited. Slowly he got up and took her into his arms. But she knew as they danced in silence that she had hurt him deeply.

  ‘Have a good night, Lil?’ Uncle Noah stood in his dressing gown and slippers as Lily hung up her coat.

  ‘Yes, thanks. I’m not too late, am I? It didn’t end till eleven and then we had to walk to the bit of wasteland that Ben parked on.’

  ‘What’s the new motor like?’

&nbs
p; Lily followed him into the kitchen. ‘It’s not meant for around the town really. It’s so big. With thirty seats to fill you need a lot of space to turn it round.’

  ‘It’ll take a bit of practice no doubt.’

  ‘That’s what Ben said.’

  He picked up the kettle that had already boiled and half filled the teapot. ‘Here you are. It’s a bit stewed from before your dad and mum went to bed. I said I’d wait till you got in to bolt the door.’

  ‘Thanks, Uncle Noah.’

  ‘Well, I’m off to get me z’s. Dare say you need your beauty sleep too. Is it in the morning you’re seeing your gent again?’

  Lily looked up at her uncle and smiled. ‘We’re off to Petticoat Lane to look for a bargain.’

  ‘Remember when I used to take you up on the cart? How we’d drive past and I’d stop to see my old mate from the china stall? Don’t ’spect he’ll be there any more, but give the Lane a “hello” from me.’ He bent and kissed the top of her head. ‘Night, love.’

  Lily heard him climb the stairs. She sipped the warm, stewed tea and thought over the evening. Ben had said very little on the way home. Hattie and Reube had chosen to sit in seats at the rear. They hadn’t been aware of anyone but each other. When Ben had delivered them all safely, she and Hattie had watched Ben and Reube drive off to the Quarry. It was then that Hattie had landed her bombshell.

  ‘Lily,’ Hattie had said breathlessly, holding her arm very tightly. ‘I’ve got something to tell you.’

  The stars twinkled above them as Lily held her breath in anticipation. ‘What, Hat?’

  ‘Reube says he wants us to get engaged.’

  Lily could see her friend could hardly contain her excitement. ‘What did you say?’

  ‘I said yes, of course.’

  Lily had hugged her close. ‘Congratulations, Hat. You make a lovely couple.’

  Hattie wouldn’t let her go as they stood in the silent, dark street. ‘I wish we could make it a double engagement. Wouldn’t it be lovely if we could do it together? After all, Ben is crackers about you.’

  ‘Hattie, I don’t want to get married.’

  ‘Oh, Lil, it’s not that bloke again, is it?’

  ‘If you mean Charles, no, it’s not him. I just ain’t in love with Ben, that’s all.’

  Hattie had stepped back and sighed. Then shrugging her shoulders she had said goodnight and gone indoors. Lily had felt desperate. Why was everyone trying to pair them up? She didn’t want to lose her friends. But neither did she want to lose Charles.

  As Lily thought this over, she washed up her cup and saucer and made her way to bed. No matter what had happened at the dance, she wouldn’t trade being with Charles tomorrow for all the tea in China.

  It was, as Charles had promised, an early start. She heard his car arrive at eight o’clock and wondered, as she tiptoed down the stairs and opened the front door, if anyone was looking out from their windows.

  Charles opened the passenger door and helped her in. She soon forgot all her doubts and worries. His immaculate appearance was almost too much to absorb, from the way his dark hair was hidden under a smart brown felt hat and his overcoat in dark brown wool clung to his broad shoulders.

  Soon Love Lane was behind them and they were driving along the Westferry Road. The docks were still and only the seagulls screeched above them. The engine was a comforting purr and although it was cold, once again he provided a warm blanket.

  Lily had worn her one and only best coat that he had seen before and couldn’t be disguised, but she hadn’t worn a hat this time. At the crack of dawn this morning, she had washed her hair. The water had been freezing, but she had lit the fire in the front room and her hair had soon dried. No amount of trying to straighten it overnight had worked before and so she hadn’t even tried. After all, he had commented on its appearance on their trip up West. Whilst drying it she had placed her index and middle fingers in the waves, encouraging rather than trying to disguise its natural curl.

  Lily looked out on the morning, her heart beating fast. A streak of blue sky between the houses slowly filled with a blush. Like a lovely pink rose opening up, the day was beginning and she was eager to share it with her companion.

  There were so many clothes, Lily thought she was in heaven. No wonder Petticoat Lane was called what it was, and not Hog Lane as it had been called in the early 1800s! Stall upon stall of clothing, sold at knock-down prices, so that she wanted to stop at every one. The Old Girl’s Stall at Cox Street was nothing compared to this. Though she had come up to Petticoat Lane with Uncle Noah as a child, then with Hattie in later years, she had forgotten how busy it was. The last time they had ventured up it was raining and Hattie had bought an old umbrella. But it had blown inside out before they had got home and the spokes had poked through the cloth. They had had a laugh about it, but Lily reminded herself that today, she was searching for something of real value, not a frivolous amusement.

  Now, as she strolled beside Charles, the market was full of tantalizing colour and the sound of voices – some tongues were foreign and some were cockney. The air was filled with scents of perfumes and fragrances of food. Every conceivable article was on display. The stalls and boxes spilled with coats, dresses, underwear, stockings, shoes, trousers and jumpers, all of which were examined in detail by the throng of women who jostled and fought each other. A big man smoking a pipe pushed his way in to restore calm as a fight broke out over ownership of a pair of old riding breeches. Neither woman was prepared to let go, and Lily felt Charles laugh beside her. He steered her gently away, as the cursing and oaths became louder.

  ‘Let’s hope our bargain doesn’t have to be fought over,’ he said as they approached a long bench piled high with all sorts of curios. Lamps, crockery, ironmongery, toys, pots, pans, furniture, food, delicacies and, of course, dozens of umbrellas. Beyond were flower sellers, a pie and mash stall, a fish stall and hot baked bread vendor, competing for business with the pastries, sweets and toffee apples. As far as the eye could see, there were articles of every shape and kind. They stopped next at a shelf piled high with Eastern jewels and mystic stones. Little trinkets hung from above against the gaudy silks. Beads, necklaces, bracelets and scarves were entwined as a thick, sultry smell filled the air.

  A dark-eyed, brown-skinned woman called out to Lily. ‘Come along, dear, and try one of these on your pretty finger.’ From a plump purple cushion she lifted a large ring. ‘A real ruby this one, just what you’ve always wanted.’

  Lily paused to admire the glistening stone. The woman pounced on her lifting her hand to slide on the ring.

  ‘A ruby indeed,’ said Charles smilingly as they gazed at its false brightness.

  ‘To you sir, just three bob. Now what do you say to that?’

  Charles cupped Lily’s elbow with his hand. ‘It’s my young friend’s decision,’ he said quietly. ‘Though to my mind a stone of this poor quality does nothing to justify the beauty of the hand it adorns.’

  Lily looked up at her companion. In the hustle and bustle around them, the world seemed to stop still. Her blush was almost as deep as the colour of the ring.

  ‘Your gentleman has a way with words,’ said the woman, giving Lily a narrowed glance.

  ‘It’s a lovely ring,’ Lily said politely, slipping it off and handing it back. ‘But not for me, thank you.’

  ‘It would have brought you luck,’ the woman cried after them. ‘Come back and I’ll halve the price.’

  Charles slid his arm around her waist to guide her from the path of a man carrying a tray of hot bread on his head. ‘A bargain of sorts?’ he said wryly and they laughed.

  ‘If she had been a true traveller and the ring had been a sprig of heather, I would have accepted as it’s considered unlucky to refuse a gypsy,’ Lily said.

  ‘Do you really believe that sort of thing?’

  ‘I don’t know if it’s true. But yes, in a way I do believe.’

  Charles nodded slowly. ‘Then the next heather
sprig I see, I shall buy it for you. I should like us both to have good luck, Lily. In fact, I should like our friendship to prosper in every way.’

  Lily looked up at him. Her tummy turned a summersault as his dark eyes looked intensely at her. She felt bewildered. What was he saying? That he wanted their business arrangement to prosper? Or was it – dare she even think it? – something of a more personal nature?

  The painting was leaning against the wall, hidden by a heap of clothes and women’s boots. To the side of it was a large stand of many types of nuts that was looked after by a boy of no more than about nine. He was spooning the nuts into the open bags of the women who paid him and patted him on the head. The walnuts and Brazil nuts and furry-coated coconuts were hidden in a cloud of dust each time he shook the sacks in which they were stored. Lily saw he was a street urchin, dressed in rags, but with the bright, shrewd eyes of a dealer set close together under a shock of black hair. His smile was instant as they approached.

  ‘Here y’a missy, open yer bag for a penneth o’ nuts.’

  Lily smiled politely. ‘No thank you, but I am interested in that picture behind you.’

  ‘It ain’t mine,’ the boy shrugged. ‘You sure you ain’t wanting some o’ these?’

  ‘I’m sure.’ Lily squeezed past him and bent down to the picture. It was in a terrible condition but there was something about it that she liked.

  ‘Who does it belong to?’ she asked as she rubbed away the dirt with her handkerchief.

  ‘What’s telling worth, then?’

  Lily smiled. ‘Sixpence, if you can run and find the owner.’

  The boy closed the sack with his filthy fingers, looping the string into a light knot. ‘Give us the sixpence first,’ he demanded, holding out his black palm.