by Carol Rivers
‘I said so, didn’t I?’
He was about to turn away when he stopped. ‘I know what I was, Lizzie,’ he whispered sadly, ‘a good-for-nothing phoney. I left you and Dad to fend for yourselves and then expected a cut of the profits. All I want to repeat is, I’m not the shyster I used to be. No reason for you to believe me of course, which is why I appreciate you letting me see Pol at Gertie’s. I tell you, gel, she’s the light of my life; I love that kid and I promise you, I’ll always do my best for her, and be there if she wants me.’
Lizzie stared at her husband coldly. ‘Words are cheap, Frank. And you’re a class act with the charm.’
‘I promise—’
‘Don’t waste your breath,’ she interrupted. ‘I’ve heard too many of your promises only for them to be broken.’ She walked to the door Flo’s stretcher had gone through.
What was happening to Flo? She had to find out.
‘I’ll go then,’ he called.
‘Don’t try to see Flo,’ she warned over her shoulder.
Lizzie’s mind was in turmoil. He’d said he was making his way home to his digs when he saw her. Did she believe him? He had thanked her for letting him see Pol. Was he genuine? Polly had said she didn’t mind seeing her Uncle Frank. They played dominoes with her Granda and Polly liked that. But would Frank soon tire of his better self? He hadn’t been there for the first six years of Polly’s life. Yet now he was claiming he loved her.
Lizzie didn’t know what to think. Her heart wanted to believe that good had triumphed over bad. But her head was warning the opposite.
Chapter Twenty-Two
‘Your sister had a narrow escape,’ Dr Shaw told Lizzie as she stood in the small office. The nurse who had been with Flo was writing in a book.
‘Is the baby all right?’
‘Yes, so far. But it was a close call. Had you delayed any longer getting here, she may have miscarried.’
Had Flo told the doctor she was unmarried? She wasn’t wearing a ring. ‘It was a long journey on the bikes,’ she said.
‘The bleeding may have nothing to do with exercise,’ the doctor explained. ‘Your sister is carrying her first child. Not all women have straightforward pregnancies. From now on she will need plenty of bed rest. She tells me she’s given up work, is that right?’
Lizzie nodded, although it wasn’t quite true. Flo had taken her annual two weeks’ holiday. She was going to give in her notice when she returned.
‘Good.’ Dr Shaw, a tall, stern-looking man in his fifties, gave Lizzie a brisk smile. ‘We’re going to keep her in of course, under observation. Tomorrow I’ll examine her again. We’ll know more then.’
‘Can I see her now?’
‘Yes, but only for a short while. And please try to keep her calm. She has a tendency to get overexcited. At the mention of remaining under my care, she protested loudly.’
Lizzie smiled. She knew the news of a hospital stay, however brief, would distress Flo. ‘When she was a child, Flo had scarlet fever,’ she explained. ‘And had to stay in a hospital for infectious diseases. Then she went to a convalescent home. She was away for months and hated it. Since then, she don’t like hospitals.’
To Lizzie’s surprise, the doctor nodded understandingly. ‘I see. Well, perhaps you can reassure her that we are not monsters here, rather medical staff who try very hard to put our patients at ease.’
Lizzie warmed to the soft chink in the doctor’s armour.
The nurse took Lizzie to see Flo who was now awake as she lay in the bed. Lizzie put her arms around her tenderly. ‘How are you feeling?’ she whispered.
‘Rotten.’
‘The baby’s all right though.’
‘Yes. So they tell me.’ A tear rolled down Flo’s hot cheek. Lizzie brushed her untidy dark hair into place with her fingers, and plumped up her pillow. ‘Lizzie, I don’t like it here.’
‘You’re in the best place. Remember, you have the baby to think of. And all the staff seem very kind.’
‘How did I get here?’ Flo mumbled.
Lizzie felt her face go red. She couldn’t tell Flo it was Frank who brought them in the car. Dr Shaw wanted her to be kept calm. ‘I found someone to drive us.’
‘I don’t remember anything. Only falling on the floor in the shop.’
‘You were delirious, saying something about the Missus and your wedding dress.’
‘I didn’t feel well before I left home this morning.’
‘And yet you still rode your bike.’
Flo smiled weakly. ‘I thought it would do me good. I’ve been eating too much lately and put on too much weight.’
‘Did the doctor tell you that from now on you must rest?’
Flo wrinkled her nose in distaste. ‘He won’t see what I’m getting up to when I’m home.’
‘You’ll do as you’re told if you want to keep your baby.’
Flo sighed and dropped her head to the pillow. ‘Will they let me home tomorrow?’
‘We’ll have to see.’
‘Christ, this reminds me of when I was in—’ She stopped and screwed up her eyes. Another little tear escaped.
Lizzie leaned forward and wiped the tear away. ‘You’re a big girl now and responsible for two. Don’t worry, you’ll be home very soon. This isn’t anything like the sanatorium.’
‘I hope not. Will you tell Syd?’
‘Yes, of course.’
‘What about our bikes? Someone might pinch them.’
‘I’ll see to it, don’t worry.’
‘Time is up, I’m afraid,’ said the nurse, tapping Lizzie’s shoulder.
Lizzie kissed Flo’s cheek and smiled. But they were both tearful when she left. Lizzie caught the bus home. She sat quietly in the rear seat, deciding what to do. First she would send Bert over to the dressmaker’s for the bicycles. Then he could drive over to the garage and tell Danny what had happened. She knew Danny would be very angry that Frank had appeared to turn up in the nick of time. But, when all was said and done, it was Flo who mattered the most.
Lizzie thought about what Frank had said. He was grateful for seeing Polly. He’d assured her that Polly meant a lot to him, but should she have to believe what could be just more lies?
Then there was Syd to tell but he wouldn’t be home until after six. She would have to go over and break the news.
It wasn’t something she was looking forward to doing.
‘Whenever your husband turns up on the scene it’s bad news,’ Syd said, predictably angry.
‘I know. But Flo and the baby are all right.’ The more Lizzie tried to explain, the more Syd was getting distraught.
‘He’s working there – at the hospital, you say?’ Syd demanded.
‘Don’t worry. I’ve told him to stay away from Flo.’
Syd clenched his fists. ‘He’d better or else.’
‘I’ll drive you to the hospital, if you like.’ She hoped Syd would calm down before he saw Flo.
‘No, Doug will do the honours.’ Syd dragged on his coat.
They walked outside and stood on the pavement. ‘I didn’t tell Flo who took her to the hospital,’ Lizzie explained hesitantly.
‘Do you think I would upset me own missus?’ Syd snapped at her as he banged on the Sharpes’ door.
After Lizzie had explained everything to Lil and Doug, the men drove off to the hospital. ‘Come in,’ Lil said, raising her eyebrows, ‘and tell me what really happened.’
‘It’s true, every word,’ Lizzie said as she sat down on the couch in the front room. ‘Frank just appeared out of the blue.’
‘I don’t believe that.’
‘No, I don’t expect anyone would. But he said he was on his way to his digs.’
‘Working at the hospital?’ Lil muttered as she searched for her cigarettes and found them on the mantelpiece. ‘What’s his game? Pinching stuff and selling it on to the black market?’
Lizzie hadn’t thought of that. She shrugged.
‘Why would a big h
ospital like that employ the likes of him?’
‘He said he was given a letter of reference by the place he was in.’
‘Do you believe him?’ Lil said scornfully as she lit up.
‘I don’t see how else he could have got the job. Anyway, I was so worried about Flo I didn’t care who helped us.’
‘Does Danny know about this?’ Lil asked, blowing smoke through her teeth.
‘Yes, I sent Bert over to tell him.’
‘You know what I think?’ Lil arched her thin eyebrows. ‘It wasn’t a coincidence he turned up out of thin air. I think he was following you. Stepped in to make himself look good.’
‘How would he know that Flo and me would be in Poplar High Street this morning? I didn’t even know myself till Flo came over and asked me to cycle with her.’
‘He must have found out somehow.’
‘Can’t see that, myself, Lil. His answer was, when I asked him, that he’s got lodgings round the corner.’
Lil smirked. ‘He’s got you believing his patter again.’
Lizzie didn’t want to argue. She knew Lil’s dislike of Frank would never change. ‘I’ll have to get back to Polly now.’
‘Did the poor kid see Frank at Gertie’s?’ Lil asked as Lizzie got up and went to the hall.
‘Yes. But he behaved himself.’
‘I should hope so.’
As she drove back to Ebondale Street, Lizzie thought about her conversation with Lil who had insisted Frank was playing more devious games. But Lizzie didn’t see how he could have known or even guessed that she and Flo would be cycling to Poplar that morning. The more she thought about it, the more she knew it wasn’t possible.
Her thoughts came to an abrupt end as the van turned into Ebondale Street. A group of children were playing in the road. One of them was Polly who was kicking a ball to Georgie March, a scruffy kid who lived in the next street. Bert was sitting on an upturned crate outside the shop, smoking.
Lizzie climbed out of the van and called to Polly. ‘Why are you playing in the street, Pol?’
Polly smiled breathlessly. ‘Our yard’s too small. And it stinks.’
‘They’re only vegetables. And there’s enough room to kick a ball.’
Polly’s mouth trembled. ‘I ain’t ever allowed outside. It’s not fair.’
Lizzie tried to take her hand but she snatched it away and ran back to her friend.
Lizzie walked over to Bert. ‘You know I don’t like Polly playing out here.’
‘I was watching out for her,’ Bert said with a shrug.
‘What if Savage turned up?’ Lizzie felt herself growing angry.
‘Elmo’s inside. The two of us would have seen him off,’ Bert replied, unconcerned. He stood up and put a large hand on her shoulder. ‘Take it easy, gel.’
‘How can I, with everything going wrong?’
‘That’s not like you.’
Tears threatened as Lizzie blinked. ‘Polly means everything to me, Bert.’
‘Yer, I know. I’ll get her in. Did you have a rough time with Syd?’
‘You could say that. No one believes Frank’s on the level.’
Bert raised his heavy eyebrows. ‘Do you?’
‘All I know is, we got Flo to hospital in time to save the baby.’ Up until this moment, she had believed the same as everyone; Frank Flowers’s priority was himself. And that would never change. But this afternoon, in the hospital, she had begun to wonder.
Lizzie called to Polly. ‘It’s time for tea.’
‘I want to play with Georgie,’ Polly called back.
Lizzie walked over to the little boy with a mop of curly dark hair and a runny nose. He took a step away and she smiled. ‘Do you want to come in for some tea, Georgie?’
‘What about them Commies?’ Georgie said, pushing back his untidy curls.
‘Do you know what that means?’ Lizzie asked him.
‘No, but me mum says to stay away from them.’
‘There’s no Communists in Polly’s home, Georgie. We just sell fruit and veg. And very nice cakes, of course.’
‘You got some for tea?’ Georgie licked his lips.
‘Yes, do you like apple pie and custard?’
Lizzie smiled as the two children ran into the shop. Though Georgie made sure he gave Elmo a wide berth.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Sydney Miller’s dander was up. Over the week he’d been visiting Flo, he’d come to the conclusion their troubles were all down to Frank Flowers. The lunatic, and yes, he truly believed Flowers was one, had the gall to lay his filthy hands on his missus under the pretence of taking her to hospital.
Syd was furious. He himself had never learned to drive. Yet, there was this scum, Flowers, acting like flaming Prince Charming. You’d think Lizzie had never undergone seven years of misery as his wife, the way she had told it. ‘And all I can do is ride a bike,’ Syd muttered to himself as he left the female ward in which Flo was recuperating.
He stood in the empty passage, trying to console himself. The visitors had gone a quarter of an hour ago. Flo had wept as he left her. She was a strong woman but she hated hospitals.
Were his two brothers outside as arranged? he wondered nervously. Clifford and Walter were not known for their punctuality. Syd was breaking a sweat under his collar. Despite his hatred of Flowers, the thought of what they were about to do was playing havoc with his guts.
Syd sighed heavily, walking slowly to the big doors. The trouble had started two nights ago when Flo had insisted he told her how she’d come to be at the hospital.
He’d evaded it for as long as he could. But Syd knew he wasn’t a good liar. And so did Flo. Sitting up in the bed, with the colour back in her cheeks, she’d said, ‘What’s going on, Syd?’
‘What do you mean?’ he’d replied innocently.
‘You ain’t been right all week.’
‘I miss you.’ He’d tried to flatter her but Flo was having none of it.
‘Come on, Syd, spit it out.’
‘It ain’t nothing, honest,’ he’d lied again and badly.
‘I’m getting the hump,’ Flo had said. ‘No one will tell me the truth. I asked Lizzie when she visited, but got the same story. This someone did the deed. Like a ghost he must have been for the invisible part he played. Then I remembered something. Going fast in this car. And the driver shouting out to hold on. I recognized the voice. It was like a bad dream.’
Syd knew he had been rumbled. When he’d finally admitted the name of Frank Flowers, Flo had erupted. The doctor had been called and he’d given her a jab. It was late and when he’d gone back to her bedside she just had this sad look on her face.
‘Why weren’t you there when I needed you?’ she’d asked him.
‘I ain’t got a car, love.’
‘No, but that imbecile had.’
The insult had hurt to the quick. Why did it have to be Frank Flowers of all people who demeaned him? Any other bloke and he could have taken it on the chin.
As far as Syd could understand it, Flowers was responsible for all the aggro in the family. And that was when he’d made up his mind to talk to his brother. Walter would know how to help him. And even if their relationship wasn’t close, Walter was a businessman. Well, he ran the family scrapyard and had his head screwed on right.
After downing a few pints too many at the pub, Syd had cycled to Mile End. In the afterglow of the brew, he’d come to the decision that a fish porter like him would never amount to much in his wife’s eyes. His standing in the family needed re-evaluation. And it was only Walter who could help him there.
‘For a start, you’ve got to chuck in your job,’ Walter advised. ‘You’re beginning to smell like a gorilla’s armpit each night. I can even niff it now.’
‘But I’ve portered since I left school.’
‘Time for a change, boy. A clean shirt and a good barber.’
‘Walter, we’ve got a kid on the way.’
‘Yeah, but Billingsgate is dea
d-end,’ joked Clifford, his younger brother, who had turned up at the meeting.
‘Not many blokes have a licence,’ Syd had argued mildly.
‘And look where it’s got you.’ Walter wagged his fat finger as he polished off his chaser. ‘Come into the firm, Sydney. I’m on the lookout for a driver.’
‘I can’t drive,’ Syd admitted guiltily. ‘That’s the problem.’
‘Driving’s a doddle,’ Clifford had assured him. ‘Even for you.’
‘Come on,’ chivvied Walter, smiling that smile of his that caused his sweating round face to look faintly agreeable. ‘If you don’t make the jump now, you’ll be wiping the scales from your mitts by the time you get to Dad’s age.’
Syd thought fleetingly of his father. Walter Miller senior was rarely present at family conferences. The Missus usually headed the table. A potent mixture of brown ale and gout took their dad off to his bed. At sixty he was an eighty-year-old, thought Syd sadly. Was Walter insinuating that he was to turn out the same?
‘We’ll teach you to drive,’ Clifford assured him. ‘There ain’t nothing to it. You’ll be ducking and diving round the East End like an old-timer. We’ll take you out in the scrapyard lorry, right? There’s just two gears, forward and reverse. Well, nearly. After a couple of weeks you’ll be flying, right?’
‘Dunno,’ he’d resisted for all of ten seconds.
‘Your old lady will respect you,’ Walter had concurred. ‘Especially when you tuck a twenty in her palm for the kid.’
‘A twenty?’ Syd had repeated. Twenty quid was more than he earned in a month.
‘Sovs,’ added Clifford with a nod.
‘Your old lady has a right to be gutted,’ continued Walter in an intimate tone. ‘I wouldn’t want Flowers’s filthy hands all over me when I was out of it. That’s taking a liberty, that is.’
‘All the more reason to give her a nice surprise when she comes out,’ Clifford insisted.
‘Look, take this.’ Walter had squeezed two notes into his hand and they weren’t pounds. ‘This is up front. You’ve earned this, mate.’
‘I ain’t done nothing.’
‘You’ve come to us. You done the right thing.’