Lizzie's Secret

by Rosie Clarke

  ‘Mum will go back to endless stews,’ Beth said. ‘Sometimes there might not be much more than veg in them, but they always taste good with her fresh bread. Thankfully, Dad has always kept accounts, so he will still have a licence to buy and sell food – some of the lads on the barrows aren’t so lucky. They can’t get a licence and that means they can’t buy wholesale from the markets, well, not legally. Dad says it’s their own fault for fiddling on their income tax, but he’s sorry for them really.’

  ‘What will they do?’

  ‘Most of them are joining up,’ Beth said. ‘The older ones will have to go into the factories, I suppose.’

  Hurrying through the blackout, the girls laughed as vague shapes loomed up out of the gloom. It was becoming commonplace to bump into people and apologise but everyone was in the same boat and all they could do was smile and carry on.

  *

  Back at work, Beth became increasingly anxious during the next two weeks, when her period still refused to materialise. She was almost certain now that she was having Mark’s child and there was still no word from him.

  If she hadn’t loved Mark, she might have tried drinking hot gin sitting in a hot bath, though she’d heard other girls talk about it as an old wife’s tale as a way of getting rid of unwanted babies. However, Beth’s love for the father of her baby made her feel it would be wicked to try and miscarry it, even though she was terrified of the consequences.

  She was just going to have to carry on as best she could for as long as was possible.

  Chapter 31

  Lizzie looked about the crowded room and smiled. In the weeks she’d been coming here so much had changed, because what had started out as just a small gathering had grown, and since Christmas the place had been packed and the noise of the laughter and music made it difficult to hear what people were asking for.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Lizzie said, leaning nearer to the young soldier. ‘Did you ask for two sausage rolls?’

  ‘Yes, please, if that’s all right?’

  ‘Of course it is,’ Lizzie said and smiled at him. ‘The food is given by various friends. Everyone has been generous, sharing what they can, and we get extra coupons because it’s for our boys. After all, you deserve it…’

  ‘I’m not sure I do,’ the young soldier grinned awkwardly. ‘I’ve only just finished my training.’

  ‘Don’t worry, you’ll be needed soon enough,’ Lizzie said. ‘Besides, the rationing is getting worse all the time, so enjoy it while you can.’

  He nodded cheerfully and moved off to join the group around the piano, who were belting out some of the more popular songs. As yet they hadn’t experienced much of the war here and some people were calling it the false war, but at sea the merchant ships were being attacked, and, before Christmas, British ships had trapped one of Germany’s large battleships – the Graf Spee – in the River Plate, but instead of surrendering, the captain had chosen to scuttle his ship and take his own life.

  Lizzie knew that British planes were also flying into the danger zone on a daily basis, but so far Harry seemed to be surviving, thank God! He phoned at least twice a week and sent postcards now and then, but as yet there was no mention of him getting leave and Lizzie felt increasingly lonely in the evenings, which meant her time helping out at the club was a welcome change.

  Aunt Miriam had been collecting glasses on a tray. She brought them back to the counter where Lizzie stood, looking at her enquiringly.

  ‘You look a bit down, Lizzie.’

  ‘Oh no, I’m all right – just thinking, you know.’

  ‘You haven’t heard from Harry if he’s coming home?’

  ‘No, he hasn’t phoned for a while and . it’s nearly two weeks since he wrote,’ Lizzie felt an icy tingle at her nape. ‘I’d be worried if I thought…’ she shook her head. ‘No, if anything were wrong I should have heard by now.’

  ‘Yes, of course you would. He will probably turn up and surprise you.’

  Aunt Miriam took the tray into the kitchen and Lizzie took a cloth and went to wipe some tables down, clearing away the empty plates. She went to the kitchen and brought out two platters of fresh cut sandwiches, thinking that ham would be in short supply next month; it was a favourite with the men but getting more difficult to buy and next month it would be rationed.

  ‘Hello, Lizzie Larch…’ the voice caused Lizzie to start and almost knock over a jug of milk she’d just filled. ‘I didn’t expect to find you here. I nearly didn’t come…’

  Lizzie looked at the man she hadn’t seen for months. He was wearing the uniform of an army officer and she thought his rank was that of a captain. The uniform suited him more than the severe suits he’d worn for business and there was a slight tan to his skin, as if he’d been in the sun. She knew better than to ask, because he probably couldn’t tell her.

  ‘Sebastian, how pleasant to see you again. Are you home on leave?’ Lizzie felt a little breathless. It was just such a shock seeing him here – and in uniform.

  ‘Just for a couple of days that’s all,’ he replied, smiling at her in a way that made Lizzie feel rather warm and a little uncomfortable. ‘How are you, Lizzie? Business doing well? I’ve seen your designs in Oliver’s window and I thought they were really stylish.’

  ‘I’m doing well enough,’ Lizzie said cautiously.

  ‘It’s a good thing Oliver thought to buy up so much stock while he could. You won’t find it easy to get supplies soon. Most of the factories are turning over to war production for the troops or essentials – and the special trimmings and silks from overseas will not be available. Shipping costs lives these days and other goods are more important.’

  ‘Yes, I know,’ Lizzie said. ‘Uncle Bertie is constantly complaining about deliveries. He’s on the priority list for his government contracts, of course, but even the essentials will become more difficult to source.’

  ‘The war has hardly got going yet,’ Sebastian replied. ‘Wait until the shortages really start to bite. I’m not certain of my shop’s future at the moment – but we’ll try to keep things going for as long as we can.’

  ‘Yes, you must,’ Lizzie said. ‘Can I get you a cup of tea – or something to eat?’

  ‘I’d rather you came out with me for a drink so that we can sit and talk ’

  ‘I don’t think I can do that,’ Lizzie said. ‘I shall be here until nearly eleven and then… well, I am married you know.’

  ‘I still want you to work with me one day, Lizzie. Even if I have to slow things down for a few years at the shop, I’ll have plans for the future. Oliver isn’t the only one to get in on government contracts, you know. I’ve taken over a boot and shoe factory. It’s army contracts, of course, but it means I’ll have a business to come back to when it is all over.’

  ‘Aren’t you in the army?’

  ‘In a manner of speaking,’ he told her and smiled. ‘You know what they say, Lizzie – careless talk. I find time to look after my own affairs, and I have people I trust in charge. Has my manager been buying from you as I instructed?’

  ‘Yes, a few hats each month,’ she said. ‘Not as many as you bought, but I may not have the right hats in stock when he comes. My customers take as many as they can in case stocks run out…’

  ‘Well, if you won’t come out with me this evening, I’ll call on you at the showroom tomorrow and have a look at what you have in stock. Take care of yourself, Lizzie…’

  Miriam came up to her as Sebastian wandered over to the piano to listen to the exuberant delivery of one of Vera Lynn’s popular songs. She was fast becoming a favourite with the forces and the public, perhaps because she was pretty and her songs gave people hope.

  ‘Who was that?’ Miriam asked. ‘I thought it was one of Bert’s customers… Sebastian Winters, but he’s in uniform…’

  ‘Yes, he was,’ Lizzie said and shrugged. ‘I don’t think he’s on active service though; he was talking about his new factory – makes boots for the army.’

  ‘Oh, o
ne of those honorary commissions,’ Harry’s aunt said. ‘I suppose it gets him out of being thought a conchie or something.’

  ‘Yes, probably,’ Lizzie said, because she wasn’t sure about Sebastian Winters. She’d thought he was doing war work for the Government, but now he was talking about boot factories and special contracts and she wasn’t sure what to think.

  Seeing him had given her a bit of a jolt. She’d been very tempted to go for a drink with him, but of course it was out of the question. If Harry ever discovered that she’d been out with another man, especially Sebastian Winters… she dared not think what he would do or say. His jealousy made it impossible for her to have a friendship with another man – and yet Lizzie’s feeling on seeing Sebastian was one of pleasure and, after all, what was wrong with having a friend?

  It was ridiculous, but sometimes she felt trapped. Uncle Bertie had absorbed her into his business, making her responsible for his whole production of ladies’ hats, and while she appreciated the extra money she made, sometimes she felt that he took her for granted. Because she was Harry’s wife, she was family and finding herself drawn more and more into their circle. Aunt Miriam had brought her into the social club and often walked home with her. It seemed to Lizzie that they were watching over her for Harry’s sake and although she appreciated their kindness, sometimes she would have liked a little freedom.

  *

  It was mid-morning the next day and Lizzie was just admiring a red cap she’d designed, which was rather like a soldier’s but with an embroidered design to represent the badge and a jaunty feather, when she heard the showroom bell behind her.

  ‘Very unusual,’ a voice said and Lizzie jerked round to see that Sebastian was standing watching her. This morning he was wearing his greatcoat over his uniform and he’d removed his cap. The light caught his dark hair and it looked almost blue-black for a moment. ‘Does it sell?’

  ‘We don’t know yet; it is a part of our new range of mannish hats for ladies. The trilby hat over there is already popular and the little bowler has sold a few, but this is a new idea. I thought it might appeal to someone…’

  ‘It appeals to me,’ Sebastian said. ‘Would you let me try it in my shop?’

  ‘Yes, why not?’

  ‘Thank you…’ He glanced around at the various stands. Lizzie had several of them now and they set the hats off so much more than the old way Oliver had of just piling them on the counter. ‘I like that white straw at the back.’

  ‘It’s an order for a wedding,’ Lizzie said. ‘All those over that side of the counter are orders. Everything in front of you is for sale.’

  ‘The pink one is rather nice – and that emerald green. I’ll take all of these felts, Lizzie, if that’s all right?’

  ‘Of course. Do you want to take them with you?’

  ‘I’ll ask someone to fetch them next week,’ he said, and then as Lizzie turned he caught her arm. ‘I think of you all the time… can’t get you out of my mind, Lizzie. Surely, you know how I feel about you?’

  Lizzie felt a spasm in her stomach and caught her breath. She’d always laughed his approaches off, but his tone told her that he was serious and there was something in his eyes, a need or longing, that touched her heart – but it was much too late.

  ‘No, Sebastian, I don’t know,’ she said and turned to face him. ‘I can’t know. I’m married to Harry and I love him. It’s too late for anything even if…’ the words caught in her throat. ‘I’m grateful for your friendship. I always have been, but I can’t offer you more.’

  ‘I don’t want gratitude,’ Sebastian said and looked angry. ‘Why don’t you trust me, Lizzie?’

  ‘I do trust you,’ Lizzie said awkwardly. ‘Perhaps at the start I didn’t, but that was ages ago – and I do like you. If I’d known you better, I…should probably have taken your offer to work for you. I’m sorry, Sebastian, but don’t you see…it’s too late now?’

  ‘You made a mistake marrying Harry Oliver,’ he said harshly. ‘You should have gone into partnership with me – and married me when you were ready. You were too young, Lizzie. I wanted to give you time. Oh, Lizzie Larch, I love you more than you could ever imagine…’

  ‘No, don’t say it…you can’t mean it…’ She’d always assumed he was just flirting that he was interested in having her work for him and perhaps a flirtation or seduction– but love and marriage? For a moment the suggestion just took her breath; he couldn’t mean it surely - but he wasn’t teasing her now.

  The appeal in his eyes, the way he seemed to catch his breath and the sheer need she sensed in him filled Lizzie with a longing to be in his arms, to be held and kissed. She was tempted almost to the point of giving in but then she realised where her thoughts were going and was horrified. No! She couldn’t betray Harry. She loved him and he was her husband. This was stupid, wrong and she was just feeling lonely – lonely and resentful of this war that had taken Harry away from her. Yet the thought that he might truly care for her somehow tore at her heart, causing her pain and regret.

  Why had he always seemed to be teasing and now suddenly sincere and urgent?

  ‘You know this isn’t right,’ she said gently, because something in her knew she was hurting him and she could feel his pain, echo it in her heart, and knew she was guilty of wanting what he was offering her. ‘I’m married, Sebastian. You mustn’t say these things to me.’

  ‘I know.’ He looked rueful, and just for a moment vulnerable, and then the old confidence was back and she thought she’d imagined that moment when he’d seemed to need her so much. ‘It was worth a try. One of these days I’ll get you, Lizzie Larch, so don’t expect me to stop trying.’

  Lizzie laughed and leaned forward, giving him a gentle kiss on the cheek and retreating swiftly before he could grab her and kiss her properly. She was still smiling as he left the showroom, understanding that she liked him far more than she would have believed possible when he first approached her to work for him months ago. Then she’d thought him a shallow flirt and the kind of man a girl ought to be careful of, but now she knew Sebastian went much deeper than she’d believed – and she would have liked to know more of him, but she mustn’t think that way. It was wrong and much too late.

  Chapter 32

  Lizzie checked her store cupboard and realised she needed to do some shopping. She’d hardly bothered recently, grabbing some chips on the way home or making do with toast and tomatoes, or cheese if she could get it. Spam and corned beef were usually available and Lizzie liked both, cooking a few mashed potatoes when she wanted a proper meal, and of course she ate with her friends once or twice a week. She knew Aunt Miriam had been hoarding sugar and tinned foods, and when she saw in the paper that one woman had been prosecuted for buying a huge amount of sugar before rationing started, she dropped a word of warning in Miriam’s ear.

  ‘Oh, she was foolish, buying all that from one supplier. I go to lots of shops, Lizzie. You should listen to Bertie, because there will come a time when you may not be able to get what you want in the shops.’

  Lizzie had bought a few extra things, storing them away for when Harry came home, but when he was away she didn’t use that much anyway.

  ‘It’s no good,’ Lizzie said aloud. ‘I need to go shopping…’

  Picking up her purse and her ration card, Lizzie saw that her meat ration hadn’t been used for two weeks. She decided that she would treat herself to a joint and do a nice roast. Perhaps she would ask Madge and Ed to come and share it on Sunday. She reached for her coat and scarf, because it was cold, picked up her basket and went out. She would pop round to Ed’s later that evening and extend her invitation…

  It was late afternoon when Lizzie returned home to the flat. As soon as she let herself in, she sensed something and, as she got to the landing, she saw the light on in the living room. She gave a little scream of delight and rushed into the room.

  ‘Harry! Why didn’t you let me know? I had no idea you were coming home…’

  ‘I wa
sn’t sure until the last minute,’ Harry said. ‘I thought you would be pleased with the surprise…’

  ‘I am, of course I am,’ Lizzie said and put her arms around him, hugging him. He didn’t respond immediately, and then he pulled her in so tight that she struggled to breathe. ‘I’m so pleased I went shopping. I can get you something to eat – you can have bacon and egg or a cheese sandwich…’

  ‘A sandwich will do. I ate on the train coming down from…’ Harry broke off and shook his head. ‘Not supposed to say where I am based or what I’m doing… damned ridiculous but best not…’

  Lizzie went into the kitchen and put the kettle on, then got out the fresh bread, butter and the small slab of Cheddar cheese she’d bought. It was carefully wrapped in greaseproof paper and, sliced thin, would normally last her a week for sandwiches, because she didn’t eat much in the middle of the day, especially when she was busy.

  ‘I must have known you were coming,’ Lizzie said as Harry came through and picked up the first round she cut. ‘I bought a small joint of brisket and I haven’t done that in ages. I was going to invite Ed and Madge, but of course I shan’t now.’

  ‘You sound disappointed. Perhaps you would prefer I hadn’t come and you could have a cosy evening with your friends?’

  ‘Harry, don’t be ridiculous! I was just saying. It seemed a good idea, and if I didn’t invite my friends sometimes, I’d go mad sitting here alone every night.’

  ‘Well don’t look so bloody miserable about it,’ Harry said, clearly angry. ‘If this is what coming home is like after all this sodding time I’m not sure I’ll bother again.’

  ‘Harry!’ Lizzie cried, shocked by his sudden attack. He didn’t often swear and she didn’t like it. ‘What have I done wrong? Why are you so angry with me? Of course I’m glad you’re home – it’s just that I thought it would be nice to have friends round, because you haven’t written for ages and I didn’t think you were coming…’