Lily of Love Lane

by Carol Rivers

  Lily left Mrs Brewer to do the laundry. She didn’t want to answer any questions. She had enough of her own. Like why hadn’t Charles given her an explanation for his strange behaviour? What was wrong? She had an unsettled feeling inside her, brought about not just by Charles’ lies, but also at the thought that the police might return and she’d have to lie again.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  It was late in the day when Charles returned. Lily was banking the fire as Mrs Brewer had left strict instructions to put on more coke at teatime. Lily had just replaced the tongs when she heard a key in the door.

  She rose to her feet expectantly. In the hall she found Charles. ‘Let me take your coat.’

  He nodded silently and after hanging it up, Lily followed him in to the drawing room. He stood, gazing into the scarlet flames, one elbow propped on the mantelpiece. Lily could see that he hadn’t shaved this morning, as a dark growth spread over his chin and his black hair fell in an unruly fashion down to his collar.

  ‘How are you feeling today?’ she asked. Even though she was upset at what he had expected her to do this morning, she couldn’t be angry with him for long. He looked tired and weary.

  ‘I’m well enough, Lily.’

  ‘And your wound?’

  He nodded. ‘That is the least of my worries.’

  Lily clasped her hands together. She felt that he was on the brink of saying something. After a few moments she spoke. ‘I’ll go and set the table.’

  But he looked up and shook his head. ‘I’m not hungry, thank you.’

  ‘But you must eat.’

  ‘I’ve no appetite yet. Perhaps later.’

  Lily stood uncertainly. ‘I’ll put on the lights.’

  ‘No, leave them. The fire is sufficient.’

  She looked around. ‘Is there anything I can get you?’

  At first he shook his head, but then, sighing, he nodded. ‘A little brandy, Lily, to revive the spirits.’

  She had never known him to drink before eating. Occasionally he would enjoy a glass of port after a meal, but that was only in the company of his guests.

  She obeyed, going to the back parlour where a large cabinet was stocked with a variety of alcohol. She found the brandy and placed a large balloon glass on a silver tray. As she had never poured this spirit before, she used the measuring cup. It smelt strong, but the amber colour looked warm and inviting. Perhaps it really did lift people’s spirits.

  When she returned to the drawing room, he was sitting in one of the pink chairs, gazing into the fire. She sensed he had withdrawn into himself and didn’t want to talk. Curbing her own need to discuss what had happened, she placed the silver tray on the small table beside him. Then, saying nothing, she was about to leave when he looked up.

  ‘Lily, you deserve an explanation.’

  She kept silent, looking into his haunted eyes.

  ‘Without you this morning I would have been in trouble.’

  Alarm filled her. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Come and sit down.’

  She moved slowly across the floor to the couch.

  ‘No, not over there. Here in this chair beside me.’

  Feeling her cheeks warm, she did as he told her. The fire crackled and spat, but this was the only noise in the darkened room.

  Lily waited patiently. She had a feeling that what she was about to hear would turn her world upside down. And the first words he said, confirmed that.

  ‘Lily, I don’t wish to burden you with my problems, but in giving you a satisfactory explanation, you must be made aware of my situation.’

  Lily sat quietly, but her mind was in turmoil. She couldn’t imagine Charles in trouble, it was quite out of character. But then, before this morning, she would never have expected him to lie, much less ask her to lie on his behalf.

  Noah Kelly was restless. He wanted to get to his Monday meeting, but he’d been choked off by Josie last week after expounding on his beliefs. He wasn’t listened to at home any more. And yet it wasn’t just him that felt this way. There were others, old men perhaps, but they remembered the conflict, sensed the same vibrations floating over from Europe. It didn’t take a great brain to understand the turmoil. Much less to know that no country was safe whilst Germany was re-arming.

  Noah pulled on his coat and opened the front door.

  ‘Where are you off to, Noah?’ His sister came down the hall.

  ‘Going out for a breather.’

  ‘At this time of night?’

  ‘It’s only half six.’

  ‘Well, it’s cold out there. Not like a summer’s evening. What if there’s still rioters out? I read in the papers that eighty people were injured on Sunday and the Blackshirts threw a poor Jewish man and his son through a window.’

  Noah laughed as he pulled up his collar. ‘Well, they ain’t going to throw me through one.’

  ‘I don’t want you caught up in trouble.’

  ‘It ain’t the rioters you’ve got to worry about it’s them bloody politicians who are doing nothing to stop a far bigger crisis.’

  ‘Oh, you ain’t going on about them again, are you?’

  ‘What if I am?’

  ‘You are a crazy old man! The war is over. There ain’t going to be another one.’

  ‘That’s what you think.’

  Josie walked slowly up to him. She smelt of cooking, of the thick meat pie they’d just enjoyed, with mash and brussels sprouts. She represented the calm and orderly, and he envied her blind faith. ‘Noah Kelly, don’t you think you’re a bit too old to start a revolution?’

  ‘It’s no revolution. It’s fact. Europe’s on the move.’

  He stood uncertainly. He wanted to get his feelings off his chest, but Josie wouldn’t understand. She’d already accused him of being too old to think straight. Old he may be, but his memory wasn’t gone. And there was the rub, Noah thought to himself angrily. The country had come through one conflict this century, and refused to admit another. Seventeen years on and all Baldwin could do was sit in his ivory tower and twiddle his fingers. Yet right under his nose the insurgents were gathering force. They’d been stopped at Tower Hill, but it wouldn’t rest there. Laugh in his face, some might, when he foretold of another catastrophe but bloody Mussolini was gathering strength along with that fascist madman Franco. And Hitler, as bold as brass, had outright defied the treaty of Versailles and goose-stepped his way across the Rhineland. What use was the flaming League of Nations now? And here were the British government begging the French to give full consideration to the German High Command’s actions! It was unbelievable!

  ‘Noah, you’re not going up to the Mission Hall again?’

  ‘Yes, I am.’

  ‘They’re a lot of silly, cross old men.’

  ‘So you keep telling me. But we know what we know.’

  ‘You’ll sit there and catch your death.’

  ‘I’ll sit there and talk to me mates. Nothing wrong in that, is there?’

  Josie put her arm out. ‘I wish Lily was here. She’d talk some sense into your head.’

  He wanted to tell her it was Lily he was concerned about. Her most of all, but Josie wasn’t the person to tell. No, even Bob was past it now. Since he’d come off the jollup, he was content with his fags and the occasional ale. He didn’t want to remember the war, he had enough skeletons in his closet, he said, to sink a ship. There was Ben, of course, but the poor lad wasn’t to be involved. He’d done enough for the Brights in the past and had his own life to lead.

  Noah smiled gently at his sister. She was a good woman, but a blind one. ‘I won’t be late. Charlie’s giving me a lift on his cart. I’m meeting him at the end of the road.’

  ‘Well, have it your own way. You always do.’

  Noah let himself out and into the chill of the October evening. Digging his hands in his pockets, he stumbled along Love Lane towards the cart that was slowly drawing up on the cobbles.

  Lily looked at the man she cared for so deeply. She kne
w she could forgive him anything. This morning had come as a shock, but it was obvious he was troubled. She wanted to help if she could, and she knew she had to wait until he was ready to explain.

  ‘Lily, when we first met, I told you I bought and sold works of art, curios, furniture . . .’ He paused, then looked at her. ‘That was true at the time, but it wasn’t all of the truth. You see, I have a greater interest. One that is a passion and yet I have never been able to indulge myself fully in it’s precarious nature. That interest has grown considerably over the past two years.’

  Lily frowned. She had no idea what he was talking about.

  ‘Indeed, it’s not to my business in Shoreditch that I travel to each day, it’s into the city.’

  ‘The city?’ Lily repeated, frowning.

  ‘I have an office in Westminster as I need to be central to my real work. You may have guessed by now that I am involved in politics. This is the reason why I am away so frequently.’

  ‘But I thought you were travelling abroad to buy different things.’

  ‘I’m afraid I encouraged that assumption. Many of my visits to other countries are to – shall we say – secure funds for my political interests.’

  ‘But when we first met—’

  ‘When we first met,’ he interrupted gently, neither of us knew each other very well . . . and it was only after a period of time that we became close friends. Is that not right?’

  She nodded slowly. ‘Did you really want my help to buy things for the house?’

  ‘Of course. That was entirely genuine. I missed Delia’s influence as I told you. And although I would have liked to take you into my confidence, I’d had a difficult experience with Annie; I was wary. As a new political group, our image must be untarnished.’

  ‘What is your party called?’ Lily asked.

  ‘We have no name as such yet. But we like to call ourselves new thinkers.’

  Lily was still confused. ‘I don’t know much about politics.’

  ‘All you need to know is that one day we intend to make a great difference to this country. Do away with oppression and provide work for men like your father who have been treated so unfairly.’

  Lily was filled with admiration. She might not understand much about politics but she understood the problems of the poor and needy. His voice was filled with passion as he went on. ‘The men who come here to speak with me are of the same mind. We have great plans for the future. For this reason we meet in private in order to pursue our goal.’

  ‘And you want it all kept secret?’ she asked, frowning.

  ‘Simply because, as a new party, others would try to discredit us. As I warned you once, discretion is an absolute necessity, especially at the more sensitive times, like now.’

  Lily sat quietly, absorbing all he had said. His eyes were filled with energy, his face alive with a burning enthusiasm. She had never seen him like this before.

  ‘This morning,’ he went on, ‘I left my office in the company of a prominent man, who is sympathetic to our cause. As we drove towards Tower Hill, we came upon the rioters who broke our windscreen. I simply had to drive on, knowing that if the newspapers got hold of the incident, they would distort the facts. My colleague holds a high rank and any connection with the riots – however innocent – would endanger his career. Therefore I was obliged to lie on his behalf to the police. I had to scotch any rumour. Unfortunately Lily . . .’ he reached across and took her hand, ‘I put you in an awkward position. All I can say is, I owe you a great debt, my dear friend.’

  Lily felt his strong hand tighten around hers. It was the first time he had ever touched her in this way.

  ‘I beg your forgiveness,’ he said huskily as he gazed into her eyes.

  Lily knew that she had forgiven him even before his explanation. But she wished he had told her some of this before. Even last night when he came home would have been better than now.

  ‘There’s nothing to forgive.’

  ‘And you understand my reasons?’

  She nodded slowly, her senses beginning to reel as he took hold of both her hands. He pressed them tightly to his chest.

  ‘Oh, Lily, my beautiful girl.’ His eyes glimmered brightly in the firelight as he pulled her closer. ‘You mean so much to me, Lily. As a dear friend, yes, but our connection is much more, don’t you think? We share something quite wonderful.’

  Lily swallowed. What was he telling her? Could she dare to hope that he returned her feelings?

  ‘We have a bond that begun the moment I saw you that day at the market,’ he told her eagerly. ‘A bond that has deepened over the years. When I saw you at the church, I couldn’t let you slip out of my life again.’

  Suddenly he swept her into his arms. He held her tenderly, then passionately. Drawing his hands over her face he looked into her eyes. ‘Oh, Lily, my sweet girl.’

  Lily thought she was about to expire with joy. So this was what it felt like to be in his arms, to be so close to him that she could feel his heart pounding. Her body trembled as he kissed her forehead. Slowly he drew her chin up and tenderly placed his lips over hers. Lily wondered if her heart would stop. Desire gripped her like an exquisite physical pain. She had never felt like this before. She knew she was in love and that whatever he asked of her, she would do.

  ‘Oh, Lily, Lily,’ he whispered, kissing her again. Then in the firelight, he began to unfasten the buttons of her dress.

  The meeting at the Mission Hall had followed its usual pattern. Someone had a complaint, then another trumped in. Noah Kelly was beginning to think his sister had been right. He was cold right through and he’d only joined Charlie in order to get out of the house for a few hours. But these were old men, past the age of action. The Prime Minister, Stanley Baldwin, was usually the first to be slated. But tonight it was the Jarrow marchers. The poor buggers were struggling all the way down from the north and intended to present Baldwin with their petition.

  ‘Let’s join ’em when they arrive,’ several old boys up the front shouted. ‘They’ve got the same troubles as us, with their shipbuilding and steel works in the grip of depression. They’ve got mouths to feed and want jobs as bad as we do. Let the East End dockers meet up with ’em at Hyde Park and put our four penneth in.’

  ‘Like we did at Cable Street?’ cried another contemptuously.

  ‘Our blokes was infiltrated there,’ someone replied, ‘by the commies and fascists. Cable Street was a fiasco and everyone knows it.’

  Noah knew that all this talk was ineffective hot air. The men filling this smoke-filled hall could hardly wield their walking sticks, let alone muscle at Hyde Park. He couldn’t distinguish one grey head from another, except for the odd balding pate like his own.

  A bent figure in the next row finally spoke some sense. ‘Oh sit down and shut up. How is a lot of old codgers going to help them poor sods from Jarrow? Our time is over.’

  ‘They should go to the horse’s mouth, Baldwin himself,’ was the vehement reply.

  ‘Baldwin will snub ’em!’

  ‘Labour won’t let him!’

  ‘Labour won’t do nothing except sit on the fence!’

  ‘The King might. He’s off to Wales to see the jobless.’

  Noah sighed to himself as the voices grew louder. He’d heard it all before, in other words, with different faces, but now every bone in his body ached. He wanted to go home where there was a hot cup of tea and nice fire and time to nap.

  Then a voice made him sit up and take note. ‘I heard the commie’s have a welcome in store for the Northerners! Me son-in-law works in city town hall. He’s heard they plan to accompany the lads from Jarrow when they march on Downing Street.’

  At this, the small, smoke-filled room was filled with a new and energetic exchange. Charlie next to him, nodded fiercely.

  ‘I told yer, Noah.’

  ‘You think they’re going for another Cable Street?’

  ‘Why not? Baldwin fears a civil uprising and that’s what the subversi
ves are after.’

  ‘I haven’t forgot what you told me.’

  ‘Your girl don’t want to be involved in any of that.’

  Noah shook his head firmly. ‘It’s how to tell her that’s the problem.’

  ‘Just keep your ear to the ground for now.’

  Noah glanced at his friend and decided to keep his seat a while longer. He wanted to hear what more was going to be said on the theme of anarchy. He had a vested interest in its outcome. So, stamping his feet on the flagstone floor, he took out his tobacco and carefully rolled a thin smoke, turning his better ear to the next speaker.

  Lily lay next to the man with whom she had fallen in love on the first day she had seen him, six years ago. Now she had surrendered her body. Charles’ lovemaking had been the most thrilling thing that had had ever happened to her. She was a woman now and it was Charles who had taken her to this place of self-discovery. He had seemed shocked as she had cried in pain the moment he entered her.

  ‘Lily, I’m your first!’ he’d whispered huskily. ‘I had no idea.’

  Lily hadn’t known what to say. She was frightened and excited all at once. She loved him and wanted to make him happy, but she didn’t know how. Then as he swept her away on a wave of emotion, all her worries had disappeared. She had never felt a man’s naked body beside her and Charles was the most beautiful of men. His lean, muscled frame, long limbs and strong hands were like a work of art. He had aroused her until she had cried out again, but this time with a wanton desire. The need inside her became all consuming and she couldn’t deny it.

  Now she lay listening to his rhythmic breathing. He had brought her here, to her own bed, to make love to her. This was the only regret she had. Was Delia’s memory never to be forgotten? She had felt his wife’s ghostly shadow for just a few moments, but as he had made love to her, that had soon passed.

  How wonderful had been that moment in front of the fire! He had been a gentle lover at first as he removed her clothes. His dark eyes had been filled with hunger as he’d gazed at her nakedness. She had felt self-conscious and tried to hide her fear, but sensing her embarrassment, he had taken her hands and shown them where to explore.