by Carol Rivers
‘None like you.’ Slowly he began to slide down the straps of her slip. In a rush of embarrassment, Ethel stopped him.
‘Cal, don’t. I’ve got to go.’
‘Why? You said you had all day.’
‘Yes, and the day’s almost over.’
‘What’s all the rush? Your kids are with their gran.’
Ethel rolled her eyes as she slipped her straps back over her shoulders. ‘Yes, but Timothy’s too old to stay the night now. And if he won’t stay, neither will Rosie. My mother-in-law don’t let them listen to the radio or go into Lewisham. She thinks they’ll get up to something.’
‘Like their mother.’ Cal grinned.
Ethel frowned. ‘Don’t rub it in, Cal. I feel guilty enough as it is.’
‘You shouldn’t, you’re entitled. I’ll run you home in the car. What’s an hour as the crow flies?’
‘I don’t want you anywhere near me house,’ Ethel threatened as she leaned her head to one side. ‘Not in that hearse you’re driving.’
‘It’s a damn fine Studebaker, imported from the US of A,’ Cal replied with amusement. ‘You appreciated it enough the other day when—’
‘All right, all right!’ Ethel blushed as she thought of the last afternoon they’d spent together. Cal had driven her out Bromley way and they’d parked in a secluded spot. She couldn’t believe that she’d let him make love to her in broad daylight on the big leather seats. Anyone could have caught them. Yet it had been their recklessness she’d found exciting.
‘Good memories,’ he whispered in her ear and Ethel shivered.
Ethel smiled sweetly as she reached for her blouse. But Cal dragged her back into his arms. ‘I don’t give up easy. You’re a little cracker, Ethel.’
‘Now you’ve messed up my hair.’
‘I’m gonna mess it up some more.’
Ethel knew this was wrong, but she couldn’t stop herself.
‘Kiss me again, girl,’ Cal whispered as he ran his hands over her, ‘or I’ll set the bunyip on you.’
‘You wouldn’t dare,’ she murmured, grateful for the fact that she had never been wanted like this before.
Soon Ethel had forgotten she had a home to go back to and only heard the sounds coming from outside; the gulls flying over the smoke-blackened boarding house above the café. The smell of the rope works and the pickle factory drifting in through the window. The shouts of the noisy kids in the street. She forgot about getting home for Richard’s tea. Another few minutes wouldn’t matter.
But Ethel regretted her decision as, several hours later, she flew off the bus and rounded the corner only to see Richard standing at the door of the house. He was dressed in the same suit he wore to the office every day of his working life, his angular face set in a scowl and the late afternoon sunshine reflected in the lenses of his spectacles.
‘Where have you been?’ he demanded as Ethel hurried up.
‘I thought you were at your mother’s tonight.’
‘She has a church meeting. I asked you, where have you been?’
Ethel shrugged, trying to push past. ‘Shopping, that’s all.’
‘What have you been buying this time?’ Richard’s pale hazel eyes narrowed spitefully. ‘Obviously something too big to bring home with you.’ He followed her in. ‘I told you, we have a perfectly comfortable suite.’
In panic, Ethel turned to face him. ‘That doesn’t stop me looking,’ she improvised, trying to look offended. ‘As a matter of fact I’ve seen a nice one at Harper’s in the High Street.’
‘Harper’s?’ Richard exploded, his sallow complexion turning red. ‘They charge a fortune for their furniture. I hope you don’t expect me to ask Mother for the money.’
‘Your mother again!’ Ethel exclaimed fiercely. ‘I might have known you’d bring her into this.’
‘And why not?’ Richard argued. ‘She bought our present sofa and chairs, which are still in perfectly good working order.’
‘They were our wedding gift, Richard,’ Ethel said helplessly, ‘well over fifteen years ago.’
‘And they’ll do for another fifteen in my opinion.’ Richard nodded and folded his arms across his chest.
‘Oh – oh, damn you and your mother, you’re both impossible!’ Ethel wailed, tears spilling over as she turned and ran up the stairs. Banging the bedroom door behind her, she threw herself on the bed.
The tears that fell on the bedcover were tears of guilt, frustration, disappointment and self-pity. Her self-centred, penny-pinching husband hadn’t given a single thought to the idea she might be having an affair. But rather, he chose to believe that she would happily waste time trawling around the shops with the intention of buying a three-piece suite that they couldn’t possibly afford.
She didn’t know who she despised more.
Herself, or bloody Mrs Ryde.
Chapter Seventeen
Easter had come and gone with record profits. Now they were at the end of April, and trade was still brisk. Lizzie was thinking about the new shop as she opened the books. It was time to invest her profits. What would Bert think of her plans, she wondered, as she watched him drag the sacks of vegetables across the shop floor.
‘Lil and Doug should be here soon,’ she said as she placed the price paddle in the sack of potatoes. ‘We could do with three times as many cakes from Lil.’
Bert straightened and rubbed his stomach. ‘Not half.’
‘Bert, what do you think of opening a new shop?’
‘What, like this one?’
Lizzie nodded. ‘Have you seen that shop near the school in Ripon Street? The empty one Mr James ran as a hardware store?’
Sweating, Bert nodded, his boot pushing a sack into position beside its neighbour. ‘Bit run down. Been empty a long time.’
‘Could do with a coat of paint. But it would scrub up well.’
Bert drew his forearm over his wet forehead. He blinked his bulging eyes free of moisture and took hold of the broom. Leaning his elbow on the handle he frowned. ‘What you driving at, gel?’
‘I wrote to the landlord and made an enquiry. I’m going there to have a look round.’
‘What for?’ Bert asked with an air of confusion.
‘If the rent is reasonable, I’d like to run it as a greengrocer’s, bakery and confectionery store.’
‘Blimey, are you serious?’
‘Why not?’
‘No one’s done that before.’
‘I know. But there must be other women like Lil who can cook as well as she can. We’ll ask around for home bakers. For those who can’t bring their stuff in, we’ll use the van to collect. We’ll order jam sponges, buns, toffee apples, fruit scones and individual apple pies like we do from Lil. And anything else that strikes a chord. Cheap enough for the factory workers and labourers on their way to the docks.’
‘We’ll have to keep the cakes out of the dust.’
‘Mr James’s shop is big enough.’
‘So what’s this shop gonna be called?’
‘It would be a sort of women’s cooperative.’
‘Would it make money, though?’
‘This shop is. We’d run it on the same lines. There must be lots of women who want to work from home.’
‘Yeah, but it’s usually washing and sewing, ain’t it?’
‘Yes, but why not something different?’
‘Dunno. Never give it a thought.’
‘Well, I have.’
‘Blimey, gel, you don’t let the grass grow under your feet! But who’s gonna run the new shop if you and me are here?’
Lizzie grinned. ‘I’ve already asked Ethel if she’d like to join the firm.’
‘Don’t she work at Rickard’s?’
‘She’s not there any more. Well, what do you think?’
Bert frowned at the worn handle of the broom, as if making a serious decision. ‘Sounds like you’ve already made up your mind.’
‘You’re in this business too.’
Bert look
ed pleased. ‘Whatever you say goes, Lizzie.’
Lizzie smiled with pleasure. She put on her leather apron and slid off the cover of the glass shelves. Their surfaces had to be kept clean for the stock that Lil and Doug were delivering.
When the door opened ten minutes later, she expected to see their first customers. Instead three strangers stood there.
‘Good morning, my dear,’ said the first, a short, well-built man wearing a fedora. He slid it off and ran a pudgy hand over his shiny, hairless skull. He was, Lizzie decided, in his late thirties. He wore a shoulder-padded overcoat that at once reminded her of Frank. The two taller men, similarly dressed, stood with their backs to the closed shop door.
Lizzie said nothing as he held out his hand. ‘Mrs Flowers?’
‘Yes?’
‘I’m Leonard Savage.’
Lizzie didn’t like the look of him or his pals. They had walked in her shop as if they owned the place.
‘What do you want?’
‘Just a word, that’s all.’
‘What kind of word? We’re not open till eight.’
Leonard Savage dropped his hand. ‘This won’t take a moment. You wouldn’t want us bothering you in working hours. I mean, this establishment is all nice and tidy. Shame to mess it up.’
‘No one’s messing up this shop, mister,’ Bert growled, stepping forward.
‘Did Frank send you?’ Lizzie demanded.
‘No one sent me,’ the man replied calmly, his lips turning up in his fleshy, round face. His light brown eyes were watching her carefully under their hairless eyebrows. ‘Certainly not your husband.’
Lizzie started. ‘How do you know Frank’s my husband?’
‘I know everything, my dear.’ The bald stranger walked slowly to the cabinet. Glancing over his shoulder, he nodded to the big man on his right. ‘Nice bit of tat this, Albert.’
The man grunted in reply.
‘Glass can break, unfortunately.’
Bert pushed Lizzie to one side. He raised the broom and pushed the handle into Leonard Savage’s chest. ‘Get your mitts off there, pal.’
Before Lizzie could speak the man called Albert put his hand under his overcoat. ‘Get back,’ he ordered, pointing a gun.
Lizzie froze. The gun was aimed straight at her. She knew Bert was staring at it too.
‘You call that a weapon?’ mocked Savage, snatching the broom from Bert. ‘You’ll need more than a stick if you’re to insure your premises against damage, Mrs Flowers.’ He broke the broom in two across his knee and threw it at Bert’s feet.
Lizzie felt an ice-cold chill on her back. She was being threatened and there was nothing she or Bert could do about it.
‘That’s better.’ Leonard Savage tilted his head. ‘You can’t always be a winner in this life, my man. There are the leaders and the followers. Brooms are not for the major players in business.’ He jerked his hand to the gun. ‘As you can see.’
Lizzie felt her heart beating so fast it hurt. How dare this thug walk into her shop and threaten her!
‘This is my card.’ Savage reached into his pocket. ‘I’m in security and credit brokering. My offices are in Aldgate as you will read. Leonard Savage is the answer to all your problems, your guardian angel, Mrs Flowers. I help keep the streets clean and safe for hard-working shopkeepers like you. The East End being what it is, a lady like you is vulnerable. As you found out last year when someone decided to blow out your windows.’
‘So you do know Frank?’ Lizzie felt the blood drain from her face.
‘I answer to no one but myself, dear lady,’ Savage repeated. ‘You are looking at the main man. I’m visiting your drum personally, so we can become acquainted. The money you’ll be weighing out will be for legit reasons. Isn’t that right, Albert?’
The big man holding the gun nodded.
‘So, my dear, you’ll be relieved to know that after my initial inspection I accept your custom. It’s obvious these premises . . .’ he looked around slowly, ‘earn a good wedge. There are bad people in the world today. Hungry bastards. And it could be seen as a weakness that a woman on her own is running the show. Yes, you have one man here, but does he earn the respect of three, when he is equipped with only a broom?’ Leonard Savage turned round laughing. He indicated to his men that they should laugh too. They did so accordingly, until the bald man put up his hand and they stopped. ‘My heart bleeds for you, madam. I am a perceptive man, having great respect for the fair sex. I see your problem. More, I can rectify it. As of this moment, you are under the care and protection of Leonard Savage.’
‘I don’t want your so-called protection.’ Lizzie stared at the man who held the gun. ‘Do you intend to shoot me in front of all me customers?’ She nodded to the road where Doug’s green Singer had just drawn up. Lil was climbing out.
‘The lady’s got a point,’ Savage said, waving his hand. ‘Put it away for now, Albert.’ He moved to join his men. ‘Business for today is concluded. Mrs Flowers has sensibly agreed to the contract terms. If you value your nice glass shelves and new windows, then next time we meet, I’m sure our conversation will be more cordial. And we can settle the terms in hard cash.’ He stared into Lizzie’s eyes. ‘Give my regards to the other Mr Flowers, won’t you?’
Lizzie’s heart jumped again. ‘I don’t know who you mean.’
‘Just pass on this message,’ Savage muttered. ‘Tell Danny Flowers a sensible man like him should seek my protection too. After all, he don’t want no more of his Crown Jewels lifted, does he?’
‘What do you know about that?’ Bert burst out. His fists were clenched as he pushed past Lizzie.
‘Bert, no!’ Lizzie pulled him back.
There was a grin of triumph on Leonard Savage’s face. ‘Well, we must be on our way. Nice doing business with you, my dear.’ Savage politely raised his hat as Lil walked in the shop.
‘Who was that?’ Lil asked as they watched the three men make their way past Doug and cross the road to their large green-and-black car.
‘A man called Leonard Savage.’ Lizzie felt her knees shake. She sat down on the stool.
‘Are you all right, love?’
‘I will be in a minute.’
‘They was slime-ball villains,’ Bert growled as he craned his neck to peer at the departing vehicle. ‘Protection, my arse.’ He stood at Lizzie’s side. ‘You all right, gel?’
Lizzie nodded, but she wasn’t.
‘What did they want here?’ Lil demanded, frowning in concern at Lizzie’s anguished expression.
‘He’s after money, just like Ferreter was,’ Lizzie said bleakly.
‘And we thought we’d seen the last of the gangs,’ Doug said as he stood by Lil. ‘Didn’t they think twice when they saw Bert?’
‘They broke me broom and pulled a gun,’ Bert growled angrily.
‘A gun?’ Lil repeated, an incredulous look on her face.
Lizzie just nodded.
‘They had the drop on us,’ Bert complained, pacing the floor and glancing out of the window.
‘Christ, that’s worrying,’ Doug said, putting his hand on Lizzie’s shoulder. ‘No wonder you’re shaken up.’
‘What exactly did he say?’ Lil asked.
‘He said he was my guardian angel.’
‘More like Satan if you ask me,’ Lil burst out. ‘Ain’t it time to call in the coppers?’
‘Like Charlie Bray, you mean?’ Lizzie replied with scorn. ‘A bent copper, out to prove me and Danny are troublemakers.’
‘Danny has to know about this,’ Doug said firmly.
Lizzie agreed. ‘Savage threatened Danny too. And he knew about the robbery.’
‘How did he know about that?’ Lil looked puzzled.
‘He said he knows everything. And by the way he talked about Frank and Danny, I don’t doubt he’s done his homework.’
‘What are we going to do?’ Lil said, looking from one to the other.
Lizzie picked up the card. ‘This is what Savage left.�
��
Lil read aloud. ‘Leonard Savage & Co. Security and Credit Brokers.’ She frowned. ‘What does that mean?’
‘Posh words for extortion and money-lending,’ said Doug on a sigh.
‘Chancel Lane, Aldgate,’ Lil continued. ‘Never heard of it.’
‘So what else did he say?’ Doug asked.
‘He said Danny should get his advice if he didn’t want any more burglaries.’
‘What!’ Lil screamed. ‘So that means it was Savage who did the burglary.’
‘Looks like it,’ Lizzie agreed.
‘And we all thought it was Frank,’ Lil said, a shocked expression on her face.
‘I’ll drive over to the garage now.’ Bert fumbled in his pocket for the van keys. ‘Give Danny the nudge.’
‘No, Bert, you’d better stay here,’ Doug said thoughtfully. ‘Not that it’s likely, but Savage might turn up again.’ Doug looked at his wife. ‘Let’s unload the cakes. Then we’ll drive over to Danny’s and put him in the picture.’
‘Don’t like to leave Lizzie,’ Lil said with concern.
Lizzie stood up and smiled at her friend. ‘Doug’s right, Lil. Danny needs to know what’s happened. Leonard Savage won’t call while me customers are about.’
‘Yeah,’ said Bert. ‘I’ll have to buy another broom.’
Everyone managed to smile. But Lizzie knew that a broom wasn’t going to be of any use if Leonard Savage did show up again.
Chapter Eighteen
Danny listened to what Lil and Doug had to say, then, looking at Cal, who had joined them in the office, he said, ‘This sounds like a new crew moving in.’
Cal nodded. ‘But who is this Leonard Savage?’
‘Whoever he is,’ Lil said, glancing at Doug who sat beside her, ‘pulling a gun like that he put the wind up Lizzie and Bert.’
Doug nodded. ‘Only to be expected.’
‘You’ve got to give it to the girl,’ Lil added with a grin. ‘She told him what she thought of him and his so-called protection.’
‘But why the shop?’ Cal questioned, leaning against the wall and scratching his head. ‘And the garage?’
‘He has to start somewhere,’ Doug said quietly. ‘Maybe he’s taking over where Ferreter left off.’