by Carol Rivers
Lizzie took a long breath. 'But someone must know who he is.'
Murphy's smile was without humour. 'If there is such a person, they will not survive very long.'
Lizzie felt her heart race at the thought of how close she had come to disaster. 'So that's why he believes the Mill Wall belongs to him?'
'Is that what he told you?'
Lizzie nodded. 'As he held a knife to my throat.'
Murphy's face fell. 'Lizzie, 'tis not good news you bring today.' He looked deeply into her eyes. 'This is not the place to discuss him, for he has spies in all directions.' He grasped his tankard and emptied it, his gaze quickly surveying the room. 'Come, Lizzie. Take my arm. Act as though we are lovers, enjoying our tryst. Which for me, is no great effort,' he teased, though his smile was fleeting.
Lizzie had barely touched her port; she had no desire for it now. Doing as he instructed, they left the Blue Posts and disappeared into the crowds of Soho.
Chapter 22
Lizzie watched Murphy and her brother carefully as they greeted one another in the shop. The smaller, leaner man held out his hand. 'Sure, it's good to see you again, Bert.'
'Likewise,' her brother acknowledged, returning the Irishman's warm greeting. 'What brings you to these parts, Murphy? Don't they keep you busy enough on the other side of the water?'
'Ah, too busy, in fact Bert.' Murphy grinned. 'Like yourself I suspect.'
'I thought you was meeting in Soho.'
'We've news to share, Bert,' Lizzie replied, eager to get down to business. 'Close the shop. Our customers will have to wait.'
Reluctantly her brother turned the sign on the door. Upstairs they seated themselves by the fire. 'Salvo Vella is known by his women as The Prince,' Murphy explained to Bert. 'He boasts blue blood. But he is no more royal than you or I. No one is sure who he is or where he comes from. It is thought his family - a band of circus performers - travelled from Europe, bringing their horses and whores with them. But Vella's interests soon turned to more lucrative business. The mask has never left his face and it's rumoured he revels in his disguises. An arrogant actor of many parts, he will stop at nothing to get what he wants.'
Bert's heavy brow creased in a frown. 'I ain't heard of him down our way before.'
'But you have never run a tavern before,' said Murphy shortly.
'But surely the brewery would have turned him out,' Lizzie protested.
'Not at all. It would be like trying to rid the sewers of rats.'
'Which is why we got the lease cheap,' Bert muttered and Murphy nodded.
'Frank said he hasn't seen Vella before,' Lizzie said in confusion.
'Why should he?' Murphy expounded. 'If your manager had left the women to their business, Vella would not have made an appearance.'
'Hah!' snorted Bert. 'A coward, then!'
Murphy shook his head slowly. 'For all his vices, he is not.'
'So, what do we do?' Lizzie was anxious to find a solution.
'How many men have you?' asked Murphy after a moment's thought.
'Not even a handful,' Bert admitted. 'Elmo and Fowler and meself.'
Murphy glanced at Lizzie. 'And that man of yours, Danny Flowers. Can we count on him?'
Lizzie shook her head sadly. 'No, Murphy. Not this time.'
'It was Savage that done for Danny,' Bert interrupted. 'He got shot of his land at Chalk Wharf and pulled in a big earner. Soon after he moved up to Euston and out of trouble. 'The Euston Showrooms' he calls himself and doing trade with gents now.'
Murphy's face showed surprise. 'Euston indeed?' he remarked, throwing up an eyebrow. 'Ah, so, I wish him luck. But trouble follows trouble as if waving hands were beckoning it! There's not a villain in the Smoke who doesn't know that Leonard Savage met his end by a Flowers. Danny is fair game now. He has a reputation, as you do, Lizzie.'
'There must be a way we can stop this chancer,' Bert said in confusion.
'Think back to the hostelry,' Murphy advised. 'Don't make the same mistake. You were outnumbered three to one there. You and Danny were disadvantaged from the off. So now, calculate! Have your soldiers ready, expecting attack. But I warn you, they will draw Vella's wrath.'
'When will he come?' asked Lizzie quietly.
Murphy sat back and lifted his palms. 'Maybe not this week. Or in six months. Or even a year. But come for sure he will.'
Lizzie felt a chill run through her. Could Salvo Vella really be as dangerous as Murphy insisted?
'I'll hire all the soldiers you have free,' she agreed. 'As many as you think fit.'
'They will be armed,' he warned her. 'A man cannot defend himself or his investment without a weapon.'
Lizzie fell silent at the thought. Weapons were not a prospect she cherished. Yet there was no choice if she wanted to fight The Prince. Without Danny by her side, it was only Murphy's men who could help her.
Chapter 23
It was Christmas morning and Lizzie was stringing Polly's homemade paper chains across the front room. Despite the chilly day outside, the fire was roaring and filled the upper rooms above the shop with a hazy glow.
Lizzie awaited Polly who had gone to change into her new frock. Bert, was still down in the airey - his basement quarters below the shop. He was recovering from his late night at the tavern. Trade at the Mill Wall had passed peacefully enough and Lizzie had been tempted to return Murphy's men in the new year. Bert was more cautious. 'We'll do as Murphy suggests,' he had persuaded her. 'Let's see how it goes.'
'Perhaps Vella has given up,' Lizzie had suggested. 'And has other fish to fry.'
But Bert had shaken his head. 'No sense in taking chances. We'll keep two blokes on here at the shop. Put the other four with Frank.'
'It's six more wages to pay.'
'Every penny is worth it.' Her brother had not forgotten the moment that Vella had held a knife to her throat. And if she was honest, neither had she.
Now, as she basted the chicken to a golden brown and slipped it back into the oven of the black-leaded range, she was relieved that Christmas Eve had passed without incident. She could enjoy the festivities wholeheartedly. All the vegetables were peeled and steaming. The fruit pudding awaited its dousing in brandy. There was nothing left to do except enjoy their meal in peace.
'Auntie Lizzie, I'm hungry.' Polly appeared, her copper ringlets bouncing on her shoulders. She was wearing her new pink party dress delivered by Father Christmas overnight.
'We'll eat when Uncle Bert arrives.'
'When are we going to Langley Street?'
'Later this afternoon.'
Polly was full of questions. 'Are we having a knees-up at Auntie Lil's?'
'It wouldn't be Christmas without a party.' Lizzie sat down on the settee and opened her arms. 'Come here and give us a cuddle. You look so pretty I could eat you. But I don't want to spoil me dinner.'
Polly fell into her lap, giggling and squirming. Then planting herself amidst the cushions she pointed to a bedraggled shrub that stood in an enamel pot. 'That tree Uncle Bert brought home ain't a real Christmas tree.'
'I know. But real Christmas trees are scarce.'
'Because of the Great Depression,' Polly volunteered with authority. 'Mrs Price said rich people can afford them, though. Ain't we rich, Auntie Lizzie?'
'We are rich in love, monkey, and that's what counts.'
Polly considered this carefully. 'Well, anyway, I got my dress. Father Christmas even knew my size. For a man, he's quite clever.'
Lizzie chuckled. 'Mrs Christmas might have helped him.'
'Or you did!' Polly laughed.
Lizzie laughed too, for she knew that Polly was a very grown-up eight.
'I'll bet Uncle Bert pinched our tree from the park,' Polly said after getting her breath back.
'I wouldn't be surprised.'
'It ain't got many branches.'
'You found your dress under it, so that's what counts.'
Polly jumped up, the tree quickly forgotten. 'Will we see Uncle Danny and
Tom at Auntie Lil's?'
'I don't know, Pol.'
'I want Tom to see my new dress.'
'I'm sure Nelson and Callum will like it.'
'They're just babies!' Polly protested. 'Rosie and Timothy won't be coming neither. Auntie Lizzie, why don't my mum ever visit? I don't even remember what she looks like. I bet she'd walk past me in the street.'
'Oh, Pol, don't be upset.'
'She can't love me, I know she can't!'
'Of course she loves you,' Lizzie insisted, taken aback.
'Then why don't she send me a card?' Polly cried.
Lizzie drew Polly close. A torrent of tears and sobs followed. When at last they subsided, Lizzie said softly, 'I love you, monkey.'
'And I love you, Auntie Lizzie.'
'I know you do, Pol and we shall always love each other. But it's only natural you miss your mum. I miss her too.'
'Is she on her adventures?'
'Yes, that's it.'
'I 'spect she'll come home one day.'
'Yes, but for now we just have to trust it's all for the best.'
'That's what Mrs Price says about Jesus. That we have to trust in him.'
'And do you?'
Polly looked into Lizzie's gaze and shrugged. 'I like real people. Ones I can see.'
'That's a very grown-up answer.'
'Uncle Frank said it.' Polly blushed, then gave a giggle. 'But I do say my prayers.' She bounced to her feet, once again her old self. And when Bert appeared, suited and booted, she ran into his open arms.
But Lizzie knew that, although here, in the bosom of the family where there was more than enough love to go round for Polly, a mother's love was what she lacked – if only Babs had been able to provide it.
Chapter 24
The air in Lil's front room was thick with cigarette smoke. Lazy clouds of nicotine hung in the air as Lizzie sat watching Polly. Her niece was playing with fourteen-month-old Nelson and Callum, a few months his junior. The children had made their camp under the extended dining table. Polly looked happy now, but Lizzie was concerned by her outburst this morning.
She was a dear little soul. Happy-go-lucky and eager to please. But now it seemed to Lizzie that as Polly grew older, there would be many such questions about her mother to which Polly deserved truthful answers.
'A penny for your thoughts,' a soft voice said in her ear.
'Oh, Ethel! Come and tell me your news.' Lizzie patted the settee. To her left sat Jenny and Madge, in conversation with Lil who, on Christmas Eve had visited the bakery. She had invited them to join the party since everyone now thought of Jenny and Madge as family. Lizzie could hear Madge and Lil discussing their ailments. Jenny was all ears, hoping to hear Bert's name dropped into the conversation.
Ethel nodded to the children. 'As you can see, Callum is spoiled rotten.'
'He's a bonny lad now.'
'Yes, I suppose so.'
Lizzie looked into her friend's eyes. 'You aren't still worried about his chest, are you?'
'No. It's not that.'
'What is it, then?'
'This morning I bumped into Edna Adams across the road. She looked into the pram and slammed her door shut. As if we was spreading the plague.'
'I hope you took no notice.'
'Mum was over there like a shot. Told her what she could do with her opinions. But it does upset me.'
Lizzie saw the hurt in her friend's eyes. 'There will always be tongues that wag.'
'I should have got used to the nudges and winks,' Ethel confessed. 'My baby is a different colour to all the rest, so what can I expect?'
'Have you heard from Rosie and Timothy?'
'A card arrived from Rosie. Didn't say much. Just sent her good wishes.'
'At least it's something.'
'Yes, a few crumbs to keep me happy.' Ethel's blue eyes looked wistful as though she was searching for something she'd lost. Lizzie noticed the dress she wore was rather staid, a dour grey and brown wool that didn't do her fair complexion justice. It was as if Ethel was still in mourning, afraid to let herself go.
'Ethel, have you thought of going to work?' Lizzie suggested. 'I'm sure Lil would look after Callum.'
'But who would have me? I've got no skills.'
'Jenny needs help at the bakery.'
But Ethel shook her head. 'I'd be useless talking to customers.'
'You liked working at Rickards.'
'That was different. I'd known Mr and Mrs Rickard for years.'
'Ethel, it would be good for you to get out and about.'
'Callum's too young to leave yet,' Ethel said at once. 'And Rosie and Timothy might turn up one day. I don't want to miss seeing them.' She quickly stood up. 'Let's help Flo with the food.'
Lizzie followed her friend to the kitchen. It was as if Ethel refused to start living again until Rosie and Timothy appeared. But Lizzie knew that all the wishing and hoping wouldn't bring her children back. Not if they didn't want to come.
'About time, an' all!' Flo scolded as they arrived in the kitchen. Her straight dark fringe was askew and her cheeks red. 'Have you two been at the port?'
Lizzie laughed. 'Chance would be a fine thing.'
Just then, they were joined by Jenny and Madge. 'Can we help?' Jenny asked shyly as she pressed down her pretty green dress. She glanced through the kitchen window, to the backyard where Bert stood smoking with the men.
'No ducks, it's your day off,' Flo insisted. 'Come and join the women of the family. You'll see your man soon enough.'
Jenny went bright red. Lizzie noticed that she had taken great care with her appearance. Her light brown hair was combed softly in waves around her face. She had tied a slim leather belt around her small waist and had replaced her lace-ups with fashionable court shoes.
'How did you manage to escape Mum?' Ethel teased. 'I'm sure she wanted to know all about you and Bert.'
'It's very kind of her to have invited us.' Jenny's gaze flew to the window again. 'Although there's nothing much exciting to tell. I wish there was.'
'Ain't he asked you out yet?' Flo demanded.
'Well, not in as many words. But he did come and pick me and Madge up today in the car. I felt like royalty sitting in the back.'
'Never had a ride in such a grand vehicle before,' said Madge, her gold tooth sparkling under the big smile on her plump face. She elbowed Jenny in the arm. 'I told you to sit in the front and show a bit of knee, but you wouldn't have it!'
Once again Jenny blushed to the roots of her hair. 'I don't even know if Bert likes me.'
There was a chorus of 'oh yes he does' and Jenny was showered in compliments.
'Well, he's only got to ask,' she said shyly.
'The world and his wife want to find Bert a nice little wife, just like you love,' said Lil, puffing away on her cigarette. 'But you might have to give him encouragement.'
'If it was me,' said Madge, with authority, 'I'd cook him a nice steak pie with plenty of veg. We all know he likes his spuds.'
'Luckily, I can make pies in me sleep.' Jenny blushed once more and Lizzie saw her steal another glance at Bert. Her brother did look very handsome as he chain-smoked with Doug and Syd in the cold winter's air.
'Well now, in anticipation of wedding bells, let's drink to the future.' Flo slipped a bottle of gin from a cupboard. 'Syd brought this home from the scrapyard. There's lemonade and sliced fruit on the table. Bung it all in together, Lizzie, and give it a good stir. We'll make ourselves a posh cocktail.'
'How much gin to lemonade?'
'On second thoughts, just make it gin and fruit,' Flo said thoughtfully. 'Save the lemonade for the kids.'
When the mixture was ready, Madge was given the big kitchen ladle. She expertly spooned the cocktail into the tumblers.
'To us,' said Lil and they all drank in one gulp.
'Christ, this has a kick on it!' Flo exclaimed.
Ethel gasped. 'I don't want to get too merry.'
'Why not?' asked Jenny, licking her lips.
Lizzie refilled the glasses.
'To a bloody good knees-up,' said Lil, coughing as she tried to smoke and drink at the same time.
'To Lil and your family, love,' wheezed Madge, thumping her chest with her fist to clear her indigestion. 'Thanks for making us welcome.'
'Yes,' whispered Jenny hoarsely, 'and thank you to everyone for being so … so well, nice to me and Madge. We ain't never had ...' She paused her eyes filling with tears.
'Blimey, love, drink up,' blustered Lil, a little teary-eyed herself. 'Or you'll get us all going.'
The gin continued to flow and Lizzie was drifting into a pleasant haze when Flo asked the inevitable. 'Has that foreigner turned up at the pub again?'
Lizzie shrugged. 'No, and I hope he don't.'
'Who's this foreigner?' Jenny asked curiously.
'A right bugger,' Flo enlightened her.
'Really?' Jenny was wide-eyed.
'I hope you're not relying on Frank to protect the pub,' Flo giggled. 'He's about as much use as a sore bum without any lav paper.'
At this, everyone burst into laughter. 'I have Murphy to do that,' Lizzie replied with an easy shrug.
'Murphy?' Ethel asked blankly. 'Who's Murphy?'
'Get with it, Eth,' Flo chided. 'He's the Irishman who saved Lizzie last year from the jaws of death. Her knight in shining armour.'
'I thought Danny was.'
'So did we all,' Flo slurred. 'I mean, she is still Danny's girl by rights. He ain't done the deed with April Williams - yet.'
'Flo!' Lizzie went scarlet.
Lil smothered a giggle. 'We're only teasing you, love. But none of us wants to see you die an old maid.'
'Well, we're all gonna die sooner or later, ain't we?' Madge said, saving Lizzie's blushes. 'Now, while I'm a bit merry, I'll tell you all this. If ever I gulps me last breath, I don't want no bloody black 'orses. Or folk sobbing their hearts out around me grave. No, I don't want none of that. I'd prefer a good party like this one. As long as I've got a clean pair of drawers on in me box, I'll be happy.' She tossed back her drink, smacked her lips and fell back onto the kitchen chair. Her full breasts heaved and her double chins wobbled. 'Oh, bugger, I've got one of me dizzy spells coming on. But sod it, I'm going to enjoy meself while I'm still breathing.'