by Carol Rivers
‘That’s how it seemed to you.’
‘That’s how it was.’
‘You could have made good. Same as Danny if you’d tried.’
‘I know, I’m just saying, I wouldn’t blame Danny if he didn’t call over. But I’d like him to.’
‘I’ll get Bert to pass on the message.’
Frank turned and flinched. ‘Don’t you see him?’
‘I’m too busy trying to make a living. There’s a crook trying to muscle into Ferreter’s shoes.’
Frank stared at her. ‘What’s his name?’
‘Leonard Savage. Do you know him? He seems to know you.’
‘No, honest to God, I don’t. What’s he want?’
‘Protection money, of course.’ Lizzie wondered if Frank was telling the truth. Could it be Savage’s men who’d attacked him? Had Frank done some running again and not paid his debts?
‘Lizzie, I swear I don’t know him.’
‘Have you done jobs on the side while you’ve been at the hospital?’
‘On my life, I haven’t.’
‘I’ve got to go now.’ Lizzie had heard all this before.
‘Don’t leave,’ Frank croaked, trying to sit up.
‘Why should I stay?’
‘Because I think a lot of you and want you to know I’m on the level.’
‘That’s not funny, Frank.’
‘The God’s truth is I knew you were special from the moment I saw you at the market. You didn’t see me. I’d just helped Danny fill up the barra and was on my way back to the shop. You was talking to Dickie Potts, the old bloke who sold newspapers. Danny told me who you were and I thought, that’s the girl I’m going to marry. But Danny got there first. I knew you’d never look at me. Not while Danny was in the picture. I—’
‘So you persuaded Babs to destroy Danny’s letters,’ Lizzie interrupted angrily. ‘How could you do such a thing? You told me he was marrying someone else.’
Frank licked his lips. ‘I know, I’m sorry.’
‘What good is sorry now?’
He dropped his head back on the pillow. His eyes still held hers. ‘I ain’t even told Dad this. But there’s something else. You see, I’d hear these voices inside me head. And I’d try my best not to listen to them. But they always won in the end. It wasn’t till I was in the nut house that they stopped.’
Lizzie frowned. ‘What sort of voices?’
‘Bad ones, telling me to do things . . .’ He stopped, his eyes staring vacantly. ‘That’s what the electric shock did. They shoved this needle in my arm and put an electric current through me. For months the torture went on. In the end I didn’t struggle. I let ’em do it. And I took the pills. And now there’s no voices any more.’
‘So you’re saying these voices told you to hurt people?’
‘That’s why I drank. To cover ’em up.’
‘So you’re claiming the liar, cheat and villain in you has disappeared? You ain’t the same man who waited in my shop to light a fuse – and if it hadn’t misfired the blast would have blown your own family to pieces?’ She hadn’t realized she was trembling as she gave vent to her feelings. ‘You robbed us of a life that might not have been perfect, Frank, but we could have made a home together. We could have had our own babies. Children to give our love to, as you now say you love Polly. If you’d got off your backside we could have made the shop turn a profit and Bill could have taken it easy. But you went your own way. A bookie’s runner was better than being a husband and father. When we got married, Frank, I put the past behind me and my feelings for Danny. You and me, we took vows. I kept them, because you were my husband. You forgot you had a wife.’
Lizzie stood up, marvelling at the fact he had so much pity for himself and had not a drop to give her.
‘Christ, Lizzie, what can I say?’ He tried to reach out.
‘I’m going now.’
‘Tell Danny, will you?’
She looked into his eyes. Then turning quickly she walked out of the room. Her legs were heavy, drained of strength. Why did Frank keep putting her through all this? Why did she allow him to get to her? Why hadn’t she walked out of the room before he’d started with all his excuses?
Slowly she made her way along the passage. For all her anger at Frank, there was Gertie and Bill to consider. They were trying to look after an invalid when neither of them was in good health.
Frank was like the proverbial cuckoo. He had come back to the only nest that would have him. And filled it.
Chapter Twenty-Six
‘What’s wrong with Uncle Frank?’ Polly asked when Lizzie walked into the parlour. Polly was sitting with Bill, playing dominoes. A currant bun was half-eaten on the table beside the small wooden bricks.
‘He’s not very well.’
‘Has he got a cold like I had?’
‘Something like that.’
‘Can I go and see him?’
‘Next time,’ said Bill before Lizzie could reply. Looking into her eyes the old man asked, ‘Did he tell you anything?’
‘Not really.’ Lizzie took the plate with the bun and gave it to Polly. ‘We have to go soon. Ask Gertie to put this in a bag for you.’
‘We ain’t finished our game.’
‘Granda will keep the dominoes on the tray for you.’
Polly did as she was told and, when Lizzie was alone with Bill, she said quietly, ‘Are you all right, Bill?’
‘Not so bad, thanks.’
‘And Gertie?’
He sat back with a sigh. ‘She’s up and down them stairs all bleedin’ day.’
‘Bill, do you have any idea who could have done it?’
‘Do you know they left him for dead?’ Bill said, breathing hard.
‘Frank says he’s legit, but can that be true? Does he owe money? Is he back in the rackets again?’
Bill shook his head fiercely. ‘He’s shook off his past, but look what’s happened to him. It just ain’t right, it—’
‘Don’t upset yourself.’
‘Can’t help it. The cowards.’
‘What can I do for you and Gertie?’ Lizzie asked.
‘This ain’t your lookout, gel.’
‘He’s still my husband, whether I like it or not.’
For a while the old man was silent, chewing on his false teeth. Then pushing the tray of dominoes across the table, he heaved a sigh. ‘You know, when the two boys was young they were solid. But as they grew older, I knew something was wrong. Up here.’ Bill tapped the side of his head. ‘My father would have said Frank was a schlepper. That bad blood ran in the family as it had with my uncles when they scarpered with the family fortune. And for a while, as you well know, Frank proved him right. You and me both suffered at Frank’s hands. And perhaps we can never forget. But if it’s within my power to forgive before I leave this mortal coil, then I must try. For the sake of my own soul. As well as his.’ Rubbing the cuff of his woollen cardigan against his cheek he said in a pained whisper, ‘Not that I ask it of you, my dear.’
Lizzie heard voices in the passage. ‘I ate all me bun,’ Polly called as she bounced into the room.
Lizzie kissed Bill’s cheek. ‘We’d better be going.’
He looked up at her with sad eyes.
As they walked home, Lizzie was listening with one ear to Polly. But Bill’s words were going round and round in her mind. They wouldn’t go away. Bill had confided he was trying to forgive Frank for the sake of his own soul as well as his son’s.
But was true forgiveness possible?
‘Tell me you’re kidding,’ Bert spluttered that evening as Lizzie served up his meal. ‘This is a joke, right?’
The shop was closed, Polly was asleep and Lizzie had come to a decision. ‘There’s nowhere else for him to go.’
Bert pushed away his plate and took a long gulp of his ale. ‘Why should we have him?’
‘Because Bill and Gertie can’t manage.’
‘Frank wouldn’t lift a finger to help you if you was in
trouble.’
‘I know.’
‘Don’t do it, gel. You’ll regret it.’
‘It will only be until he’s back on his feet.’
But Bert was shaking his head firmly. ‘You ever seen a pig fly?’
‘I need your help to bring him over.’
Bert’s shocked brown eyes rolled up to the ceiling. ‘And how we gonna do that?’
‘In the van.’
‘But you said he was flat on his back.’
‘He is. But you and Danny will manage it.’
Bert gawped at her. ‘Danny? Now I am laughing, Lizzie.’
She took Bert’s hand. ‘Can I count on you?’
Bert stared out from his hang-dog eyes. ‘Dunno what Danny will have to say about all this.’
‘Frank claims he was set up. He swears he’s on the level. Something ain’t right here, Bert.’
‘Yeah and it’s Frank.’
‘Danny should hear him out.’
Bert looked at his supper on the table before him. ‘I’ll think about it,’ he grumbled as he stuck his knife into the cold chicken pie. He began to eat ravenously and Lizzie smiled as she hurried downstairs. She knew that with a little more persuasion Bert would help her.
She found Fowler sprawled out on the settee in the storeroom, snoring loudly.
‘Wake up, Fowler.’
‘What?’ The big man blinked. He grabbed the iron bar beside him. ‘Is it the opposition?’
Lizzie shook her head. ‘No, but where are the night shift?’
‘Elmo’s gone for ’em.’
Lizzie watched Fowler as he pulled on his jacket. ‘Where do you know Danny from?’ she asked.
He looked startled, peering out from his long hair. ‘Why’s that?’
‘I’d just like to know, that’s all.’
Fowler stared at her slyly. ‘We have a drink together now and then.’
‘Is that all?’
‘Yeah. What’s on your mind?’
Lizzie walked round the storeroom thoughtfully. She stopped and turned slowly towards him. ‘From now on, I’ll pay your wages.’
‘They’re taken care of,’ he protested at once.
‘Tell Danny you’re on my books. And if he has any complaints he can talk to me. You see, Fowler, I don’t want anyone else giving you orders.’
Fowler looked at her apprehensively. ‘I’ll have to see about that.’
‘When you come in tomorrow, I want to know that you and Elmo are working for me. That you’ll do what I say, when I say. If the arrangement doesn’t suit you, I’ll understand. But I can offer you permanent employment. Not just a casual back-hander down the pub. That goes for Elmo too.’ Lizzie watched him thinking, looking her up and down as if he’d never been spoken to like this by a woman before.
‘What about the night shift?’ he asked after a few moments.
‘I don’t need them. Bert can take care of that. So, Fowler, I’m either your boss or not. Which is it to be?’
‘Danny won’t like this.’
Lizzie nodded. ‘You’re not wrong there. He ain’t going to like much about the next few days.’ She took six pounds from the till, her week’s takings, and counted it out under his nose. ‘Two pounds severance pay for your pals. Four pounds between you and Elmo for starters. I don’t know how much Danny is paying you, but I’ll match every penny.’
The big man just stared at her. She kept her eyes on him, wondering what he would do. The money had caught his attention but was it enough to make him see that she was serious?
After a few seconds he shrugged. Pushing the money into his hip pocket, he nodded.
Lizzie held out her hand. ‘Agreed?’
Once again, he hesitated. Reluctantly he took her small hand in his. She gripped it as hard as she could. If trouble followed Frank here, she would be ready for it. But she had to be sure she could trust the people around her. Even if she couldn’t trust Frank. This was her way of doing things. She was tired of people telling her she would live to regret her decisions. The choices in her life were hers to make. And good or bad, she would make them.
That was how it was going to be.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
It was early in June when Lizzie next took Polly to see Flo. Lizzie knew telling Flo that Danny and Bert were going to move Frank to Ebondale Street would be the hardest part of all.
‘Can I go in to Auntie Lil’s?’ Polly asked as they arrived in Langley Street. ‘Rosie might be there.’
‘Yes, play in the yard. I’ll call you when Auntie Flo makes tea.’
Rather than knock on the door, Polly dashed round to the lane to climb over Lil’s wall. Lizzie saw Flo’s front door was open, so she went in. ‘Anyone home?’
‘Come in, stranger,’ a voice shouted. ‘We’re in the parlour.’
Lizzie was welcomed by smiles from Flo who sat in the armchair with her feet up on the pouffe. Syd stood at her side. A flush of red was on his round face as he drank his beer.
‘I’m glad to see you’re following doctor’s orders,’ Lizzie said as she bent to kiss her sister’s cheek. ‘How are you feeling?’
‘Fed up,’ sighed Flo, waving to the chair. ‘Sit down and make yourself comfortable. Where’s our Pol?’
‘She’s gone to see if Rosie’s next door.’ Lizzie took the chair nearest the window.
‘I was wondering when you’d call round.’
Lizzie was reluctant to explain about Frank so she looked up at Syd and asked lightly, ‘Is the patient behaving herself?’
Syd nodded, giving Lizzie a nervous smile.
‘Syd’s been a real tonic,’ Flo said hurriedly, ‘turning his hand to the cooking and all sorts. He’s even got the wedding service sorted at the Friends’ Hall up Mile End, near his mum’s. It’s booked for the 1st at eleven o’clock; the minister don’t mind that we’re not religious. He says he marries all sorts.’
‘Does he know about the baby?’
‘He will on the day.’ Flo giggled as she looked down at her bump. ‘Syd’s paid him up front for his trouble. A generous handshake that will keep him sweet as a nut.’ Flo laughed, catching Syd’s glance, and he laughed quickly too.
‘Have you sent out any invitations?’
‘I’m not bothering,’ Flo replied with a shrug. ‘After all, there’s only our families coming. The Missus says not to waste our money and save up for a party to wet the baby’s head.’ Flo looked up at Syd again. ‘We’ve been given a crib by Clifford. And Walter’s wife, Gladys, turned out all her old baby clothes, as after their last kid, the sixth, the doctor told her it’s unlikely she’ll have any more.’
‘Is there anything else you need for the baby?’
‘Only a pram. But that will have to wait till I can go out shopping.’
‘Mum says we can have hers,’ Syd said quietly. ‘It did for all of us and me brothers’ kids too.’
‘That’s why I want a new one,’ Flo told him shortly.
‘But we could save—’
‘Mrs Davies delivered my wedding dress.’ Flo gave Syd a black look. ‘She made a big fuss of me and put an extra bit of lace trimming on the veil.’
‘She was very worried when you passed out in the shop,’ Lizzie said, wondering if this was the time to mention Frank. But as she was about to speak, Flo rushed on.
‘Do you think Danny will give us a car for the day?’
‘I’m sure he will. Flo, there’s—’ Lizzie began but Flo was into her stride.
‘Does Pol still want to be my bridesmaid? If so, she’ll have to have a dress and, as I can’t get out to buy one, I’ll have to leave that to you. Pink or yellow would be nice. Whatever you can buy at the market. Then there’s the ring. Have you still got Danny’s?’
This took Lizzie by surprise. ‘No. Of course not.’
‘Do you think he’ll need it?’
Lizzie shrugged. ‘I don’t know.’
‘It’s a shame to waste it.’
Lizzie looked at her sister
in dismay. Flo could be very tactless when she wanted something. ‘The ring won’t be wasted.’
‘Oh, so you two are still on?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well,’ Flo said calculatingly, ‘a little bird told us your old man was moving back in again.’
‘Who told you that?’
‘Syd was up the market doing the shopping and bumped into Gertie’s next-door neighbour.’
‘What did she say?’
‘Only that Frank had an accident, was off his feet and that Gertie had been looking after him. But you was going to take over the job.’
‘News travels quick.’ Lizzie didn’t like the way Flo was speaking. Her tone had become aggressive as it always did when she had something to say and hadn’t yet said it.
‘I was hoping you’d tell me yourself,’ Flo said grudgingly.
‘This is the first chance I’ve had.’
‘Or was you going to do the deed and tell me after?’
‘No,’ Lizzie said, glancing at Syd and hoping for his help, but he ignored her. ‘I wanted to talk about your wedding first.’
‘What’s Frank got to do with my wedding?’
‘Nothing. But you mentioned Frank—’
‘I was talking about the ring,’ Flo interrupted. ‘Not him.’
‘Did the neighbour also tell you that Frank nearly died?’
‘What do you mean nearly?’ Flo said sarcastically.
‘Some thugs gave him a vicious beating then knifed him in the shoulder.’
‘A pity it wasn’t his heart.’
‘Flo, I don’t like hearing you talk that way.’
‘What do you expect?’ Flo demanded, sitting forward and going red in the face. ‘To hear third-hand my sister is going to take back her lying, fornicating, thieving criminal of a husband was a shock.’
‘For a start I’m not taking Frank back,’ Lizzie said patiently, afraid that Flo was getting distressed. ‘I’m only trying to help out Bill and Gertie. And second, I’m here today, aren’t I? I’m not trying to keep anything from you.’
‘Haven’t you enough to keep you busy with the shop to run and Polly to look after? Frank is dead-weight. A time-consuming liability. Why should you care if he lives or dies?’