by Carol Rivers
But her daughter's once beautiful blonde hair was lank, without even the slightest wave. When Ethel was a kid, Lil had twisted it around her finger to make it curl. Like the little kids from the Ovaltineys advertisements.
And what had Ethel done to her figure? Talk about bag of bones! Had Lizzie not been feeding her? Well, of course she had, Lil answered herself immediately. Next to her own high standards, Lizzie's cooking came a close second. Was Ethel ill?
Lil smothered a wave of fear. If her daughter turned sideways, she'd be invisible!
'Come in, come in,' Lil invited eagerly. 'Leave that bag there, Lizzie. Doug will fetch it upstairs when he comes back with the newspaper. Now sit yourselves in the front room by the fire. Kettle's on the boil.'
Lil knew she was rabbiting but her nerves made her do it. All she wanted was to throw her arms around Ethel and hug the life out of her. She couldn't wait to hold her grandson. But Lizzie had warned her that Ethel would need patience and Lil had taken the hint. Though it was all she could do not to snatch the little boy to her breast.
'Something smells good,' Lizzie said brightly. Too brightly for Lil's liking, but she appreciated the effort.
'Thanks, love. We've got plum pudding for dinner as it's near to Christmas. It's the cinnamon you can smell. Used to be Ethel's favourite.'
She watched her daughter's unresponsive face and for the first time since Ethel had returned from Lewisham, Lil was beset not by anger but by a deep concern for her daughter's sanity. Lil had put the detachment down to having a baby. Lack of sleep could play havoc on the nerves. But now she could see there was more to the problem than that.
She gently touched Ethel's shoulder. But Ethel felt so rigid that Lil snatched her hand back. 'Lovely to have you home, ducks,' she said emotionally, trying to hide the catch in her voice. 'I've sorted out your room. Dad got hold of a lovely cot for Callum. Don't take up much space at all. We went up to Cox Street market and chose some decent nappies, a few woolly tops and some nice rompers. All a bit big but he'll soon grow into them. I know Lizzie let you borrow Polly's things, but there's plenty of choice in the chest of drawers upstairs.'
Once again Lil looked into her daughter's vacant eyes. The feeling of dread returned. There was nothing in Ethel's expression that she recognized. As if her girl, her beloved Ethel, had shrunken away from reach, leaving an outer shell.
'Shall I make a cuppa?' Lizzie asked as the kettle whistled in the kitchen.
Lil would normally have replied in the affirmative, but today she had to escape. She needed to pull herself together. Stop the shakes from taking over. She would have a quick fag and regroup, then return with the tea and a smile plastered on her face.
'No that's all right, love, I'll do it. Go in the front room with Ethel and have a chat.'
Tears were in her eyes as she hurried to the kitchen. That wasn't her Ethel that just walked in the door and the prospect terrified her. If only Doug would come in. He could always achieve miracles where Ethel was involved.
And Lil desperately needed a miracle now.
Chapter 18
While her son, Nelson Stanley Miller, was taking a nap upstairs, Flo Miller was waiting anxiously to greet her sister. She hadn't seen Lizzie for the best part of three months and had been robbed of the opportunity to show off Nelson. Their brother Bert had dropped by with armfuls of fruit and veg. But when push came to shove, it was Lizzie she needed to see in person.
What would she think of Nelson? He was growing fast. A lovely little toddler with a cap of shining brown hair, as straight as a dye. The dark eyelashes over his huge brown eyes were the replicas of hers but he had Syd's build; stocky and powerful. Though he had plenty of puppy fat, he was agile and loved to be chased around the house. He was the light of their lives, of her in-laws, too.
She had been wary of the Miller's involvement at first because of their notorious reputation. Even Syd had kept his distance while they were courting. But since Nelson's birth, they had turned out trumps.
In view of their generous spirit and Syd's new job at the Miller's scrapyard, Flo had revised her opinion of the Hoxton-bred family. It was true; the men had spent a good deal of time on their holidays. But she now believed Syd when he said their hearts were in the right place.
Syd's mother was known as the Missus and considered the head of the household. Syd's father, when not sleeping off the drink, spent most of his time at the tracks, drinking, smoking and generally enjoying an alcohol-fuelled haze. He reckoned he was quite an authority on racing anything with four moving legs. But he lost more money on his delusional fancies than he won. His family deliberately encouraged his mistaken belief in order to keep him out of their way.
The Missus loved her family with a passion. But Nelson was picking up bad habits, frequently using, 'arse', 'tits-up' and 'fanny' for starters. Not that anyone could understand his baby talk, but Flo knew that this was only the beginning.
Now as she looked from the kitchen window to the wooden half-fence in the backyard that Syd had erected complete with a gate leading to Lil's, Flo was proud of her husband's handiwork. The new timber was a vast improvement on the days when she had lived here as a child in this very house. She remembered clambering across the piles of trodden-down splintered wood that was the only barrier to Lil's yard.
That was the way of the East End in those days. Families grew up with nothing and expected nothing in return. It was share and share alike in Langley Street. No one had more than the other and the Sharpes and the Allens were no exception. As the oldest Allen girl, Lizzie had tried to support the family after their parents' deaths. And Flo loved her sister deeply for her efforts. But the rift had come when Babs and Vinnie had rebelled. And of course, when Frank the nutter had arrived on the scene. Or rather now, the reformed nutter – though Flo had reservations on that score. For all his supposed reversals, he was still not a man to be trusted, nor ever would be.
Not like her Syd who was salt of the earth. They were friends as well as mates. Syd had assured her that he would keep to the straight and narrow no matter what the temptation. And she believed him. The scrapyard had done well for them and his brothers had kept their promise to shield their young brother from trouble. There was money in scrap. It was a dirty trade but lucrative. What worried Flo most was the scandalous gossip about the Miller family.
Flo sighed deeply as she reflected on the current state of the Miller's domestic affairs. The Missus had assured her, that even if Syd had his collar felt, doing time often made a man of a boy. Well, that was of no comfort at all to Flo. Thereby she had warned the Missus that should her husband ever be put in harm's way, she would end their association forthwith. The Missus had swallowed on that, pointing out that her son, who had once been a lowly fish porter, had brought more to the table in six months than he had in the previous six years.
This fact was not to be argued with, Flo had decided. The Miller boys saw to it that their wives and children were always looked after. The Missus never went short as Flo had observed firsthand, since Nelson Stanley was often the beneficiary.
Thanks to the family, they now had a nice home. It was redecorated throughout in colours of her choice and furnished to her taste. Syd drove a motor car that was the envy of the street. All her clothes were either shop bought or made by herself on a brand-new Singer sewing machine from quality cloth. Nelson had the best in baby wear; not a stitch was secondhand. She had risen above the poverty of her childhood, thanks to the Millers.
Flo's heart leapt as she heard Lil's strident voice echoing from next door. She peeped through the kitchen window. Lizzie was making her way through the yard gate. Her glossy black hair was pinned to the top of her head. Her simple, tailored suit sculpted her neat figure perfectly, giving her an air of authority.
Flo braced herself for the meeting; she always felt she had to defend her corner where Syd and the Millers were concerned.
Which was why, Flo reflected anxiously, she would have preferred to enjoy this rare occa
sion together without having to deliver some news that would not be easy for Lizzie to hear.
Chapter 19
'Hello stranger. To what do I owe this honour?'
At the sound of her sister's welcome, Lizzie held out her arms. She drew Flo into a warm embrace, remembering as always, the days of their childhood. Despite the family squabbles, Flo was her baby sister and always would be.
To Lizzie she still looked like a young girl of fourteen. Flo wore her straight fringe and short, dark hair in a Dutch bob made famous by the exotic film star of the 1920's, Louise Brookes. As a teenager Flo had been determined to pursue both Syd Miller and her love of the cinema. She had won Syd's heart immediately and kept her sweetheart on the straight and narrow. Now a little more rounded after Nelson's birth, Flo's appearance had changed very little. Lizzie always marvelled at the fact that Flo still lived under the same roof that had been home to the Allens for as long as she could remember.
Lizzie smiled as Flo nodded to the kitchen table. 'Did Lil tell you I was calling today?'
Flo nodded, pulling out the chairs from under the table. 'So Ethel has come home after all?'
'Well, you could say that I suppose.'
'Poor cow,' Flo sympathised as they made themselves comfortable. 'But she's got her little boy. I can't wait to see him. Nelson's going to have a playmate at last. There's not many kids round here of his age. They're mostly all at school.'
Lizzie looked across to the stove. 'Do I get a cup of tea?'
'I would have thought you'd had enough in Lil's with all the gassing you two do.'
Lizzie laughed. 'As a matter of fact, you're right. I was wondering how many more cups I could drink. Lil was so anxious she was making tea every five minutes.'
'She's a bag of nerves,' Flo agreed. 'Every time she came back from your place after seeing Ethel, she was either on cloud nine or so down in the dumps that she polished off more port wine than monks in a monastery.' Flo chucked at her own joke. 'I don't know how Doug has coped. He loves both the women in his life and yet Lil and Ethel have always been opposites. The poor bloke has always had to referee. If his two boys had survived the war, it would have been different. The women would have sided against the men.'
'If Neil and Greg had lived,' Lizzie agreed wistfully, 'Lil would be a different person. After they went she was so scared of losing Ethel, she never let her out of her sight. Our mum was the one who helped Doug pull Lil through her depression. That's what made them such good mates.'
'Yes, but Ethel got the backlash,' Flo replied with a sniff. 'I always reckoned she married Richard to escape. He was her route to the big wide world.'
'And look how that turned out.'
'If Lil hadn't kept her on such a short leash - '
'But who can blame Lil?' Lizzie puzzled. 'The war took her two boys and it very nearly took her.'
They sat quietly reflecting for a few minutes. Lizzie looked admiringly around the kitchen. 'You've done this place up really nice, Flo.' She ran her hands over the varnished wooden table that had replaced its worm-eaten predecessor.
'I couldn't throw away Ma's old table,' Flo said, following her gaze. 'I use it for me sewing in the front room. Every time I sit there I think of how she'd sit sewing until the early hours, trying to make a few bob. With Pa the way he was, no legs and all, she must've wondered where the next penny was coming from.'
'She hated me pushing Pa to market,' Lizzie agreed. 'It was like asking for charity in her eyes.'
'She was proud, was Ma.'
Lizzie thought of the many hours she'd spent helping her mother in this kitchen; Kate Allen had always provided a daily hot meal, though God alone knew how she did it on the pittance their father brought in. Confined to a wheelchair, their father's only means of earning a living was selling souvenirs and in Kate's eyes that was begging. They had lived each day from hand to mouth and no one had suffered the humiliation more than their mother.
'If you're wondering where Ma's old rocking chair has gone, it's in the nursery.' Flo's voice broke slightly. 'So I had Syd put it by the crib.'
'Just where it should be,' Lizzie murmured. 'You can sit in it and tell him stories, just like I did with you. Remember them nights when you wouldn't sleep?'
Flo's face softened. 'They was the good old days, Lizzie.'
'There are some better ones to come,' Lizzie said with genuine feeling. 'Nelson will grow up without the prospect of war.'
'Don't know about that,' Flo said doubtfully. 'There are some scare stories circulating. That Nazi Adolf Hitler, announced himself as the head of Germany. Churchill warns we could be attacked.'
'That's just rumour.'
'It says so in the newspapers.'
'Don't read them for all the bad things they say. We've got enough trouble in the here and now without worrying about what's to happen in the future. Now, when can I see my nephew? I want to give him a hug.'
'He'll be awake soon,' Flo said with a smirk. 'I told him his Auntie Lizzie was coming – at last.'
'I'm sorry it's been so long.' Lizzie leaned forward to take her sister's small hand. 'I've no excuses, love. But with the bakery and the pub - '
'They're as good excuses as any I suppose.' Flo lifted her chin and shrugged. 'We're all busy these days, myself included.'
'I think of you and Nelson and Syd every day. You're my family, my nearest and dearest. But the shop don't run itself. And the bakery is only just finding its feet. As for the Mill Wall - '
'As for your pub,' Flo interrupted cuttingly, 'I suppose you know what you're doing, trying to turn a pig's ear in a silk purse. But I wouldn't mind betting that good-for-nothing husband of yours has already lumped you with trouble.'
Lizzie's expression hardened but she kept silent, aware that Flo was eager to express her irritation.
'Why for God's sake, don't you get rid of him, Lizzie? He's a bloody pariah. He'll drag you and the Mill Wall down with him. Frank will never change even if he swears his own life on it. Which I'm sure he's done many times over.'
Lizzie sighed softly, withdrawing her hand. 'It ain't a question of winning or losing. You know why he's in my life, Flo.'
'Because of Polly,' Flo stated flatly as if she had heard the excuse many times over. 'Well, for what it's worth, I believe you've persuaded yourself that Polly needs him. But she's got you and that's enough.'
'If Pol was to remain a child, I would agree with you,' Lizzie replied carefully. 'But she's growing up fast. Soon she will have to know the truth. Do I tell her that Frank, the uncle she has grown to love, is her father? Or do I say that Frank is the madman who once blew up me shop and did the dirty on me with her mother?'
'Our Babs had a choice,' Flo protested. 'She could have refused Frank. Instead she opened her legs for him.'
'And you recommend I tell Polly that?' Lizzie said in an astonished tone. 'When I've spent all these years encouraging her to believe in the goodness of her family.'
'I respect you for that, I do,' insisted Flo. 'But when it comes to families, you are quick enough to condemn my Syd and the Millers. Even though they've not put a foot wrong in my case.'
'Why should they?' Lizzie questioned. 'You are a beautiful and honest addition to their ranks, together with a grandson for the Missus. And I haven't condemned Syd, not at all. We've had our differences in the past, but they are outweighed by the happiness he's brought you.'
'I hope you remember that.'
'Why shouldn't I?'
'Because of Frank bloody Flowers always getting 'round you, that's why!' exclaimed Flo passionately.
Lizzie closed her eyes briefly. 'Listen Flo, Frank took a beating from Syd's brothers, Walter and Clifford. It was two against one and the odds were weighted against Frank. I don't doubt he deserved the hiding, but it was what they did afterwards that upset me. Walter stole Frank's watch, a family heirloom. I saw him wearing it.'
'Syd didn't know, I swear.'
'Which was why I asked Syd to stay out of my domestic upheavals.'
'You know what Syd is,' Flo defended. 'He's protective. Don't forget I have been witness to Frank's character since I was a kid. I had to watch my big sister being hoodwinked, swindled and abused. He stole you from Danny and made you his wife under false pretences. He tried to get me an' all, but I sussed him out from the very beginning when I had scarlet fever and was put in the isolation hospital. He was round you like a swarm of bees after honey. But I could see he was up to no good. I prayed you'd never fall for his lies. I told God I'd rather die of the fever than see you wed to Frank.'
'In which case, I'm glad God didn't listen,' Lizzie tried to joke.
'And you're still defending him to this day,' Flo continued, her pale cheeks glowing red as she spoke. 'I don't blame Danny one bit for going with another woman.'
Lizzie stared at her sister. 'What did you say?'
Flo's face fell. She looked down and twisted her fingers.
'Come on, Flo. Out with it.'
'Me and my big mouth. My feelings always get the better of me when I think of Frank.'
'I want to know about Danny, not Frank. What do you mean, another woman?'
Flo looked up from under her long, dark lashes. 'It's April Williams.'
'Danny's landlady? What about her?'
Flo paused, waiting for her meaning to sink in. 'I saw Danny in his car down by Island Gardens. He stopped and we sat on a bench for a while. Me with the pram. Him all done up in a bloomin' great coat that must have cost a fortune.'
'What did you talk about?'
'He wanted to know how things were.'
'What things?'
'You, of course.'
'What did you tell him?'
'The truth. I said I hadn't seen you in three months. And that if he wanted to know more he should go to the shop and ask you, personal like.' Flo straightened her shoulders indignantly. 'Course, I had to say about the pub and Frank. That in my humble opinion hell would freeze over before you dumped him.'