The Fight for Lizzie Flowers (9 page)

‘Nah, mate, don’t worry, they couldn’t get past the shackle. Only you’ve got a key. And nothing, other than dynamite, would bust open that baby.’

Danny tried to move, but his instincts were alight with foreboding. He knew what his friend was telling him was true; the bar and padlock were a round cross-section of steel and could tether a
battleship. Danny had brought in a locksmith to make certain the store was impenetrable. He had secured the roof and the walls with cast iron. He was confident of every inch of it. He had to be.
Inside were the engine parts for his repairs. More valuable even than his tools. The latest horsepower engines for heavy-duty vehicles, camshafts, chassis and gearboxes. Every item of his stock was
an earner. He’d seen to that personally.

Now he just stared at the solid door, no more than his height and width. There was more chain and lock than there was wood. To the unsuspecting eye, it was exactly as he had left it last
night.

Danny forced himself forward, his heart pounding. Cal followed, his breath heavy in Danny’s ear. Danny reached out and drew his fingers over the smooth metal of the shackle. The mechanism
slid instantly from his touch. A glistening, spinning, hissing metal snake unravelled before his eyes.

He almost jumped back with fright. The coil of chain wound into the dust at his feet. They gazed down at the padlock, apparently untouched, sheared neatly across its diameter.

Lizzie was about to cash up; the Friday had ended on a high with customers enjoying the fine weather. She had sent Bert to buy the unsold fruit and veg from the market. A
practice that Bill had started years ago, and as successful today as ever it was. Knock-down Friday prices brought in the bargain hunters before the weekend. Once they were in the shop, their
purses opened.

Lizzie knew she could have had no better teacher than Bill Flowers. He knew every trick of the trade. The years of working at his side, and making contacts, had given her coster knowledge. The
traders of Cox Street market were her biggest rivals second only to Chrisp Street. But they were also her friends and saw to it that she was looked after.

At teatime today the women had flocked in, eager to grab their spoils. The smart ones had managed to rifle their men’s wage packets before the Friday night’s booze-up. Unless the odd
shilling or half-crown was set aside by the discerning housewife, Lizzie knew, all the weekly wage would be tipped down the ale-house drain.

She also knew that word went round. And like Bill, Lizzie never failed to meet her customers’ needs. The small change burned holes in their pockets and she was there to help them choose
wisely.

‘There ain’t much left now,’ Bert told her as he humped the last of the carrots on his back. ‘But I’ll weigh up what’s left and make penny bags for
tomorrow.’

‘Put in a few nice extras, Bert. Some of those Brussels will do. And maybe a spud or two.’

‘Right you are.’

‘Is Pol playing in the yard?’

‘Yer. With two of them kids from across the road.’

Satisfied Polly was close by, Lizzie continued to write up the day’s takings. Business was good all round. Her glass display cabinet was an eye-catcher. Well worth the money she’d
spent on buying it. Cakes, pastries, bread, toffee apples and bags of sweets were the most popular. The idea had come from Lil Sharpe last year and it was a cracker. Lizzie didn’t need to
take stock. Everything was gone before the next morning. She knew if she had more suppliers to buy from, she could make a real go of it. A kind of cooperative for women. She liked that idea. She
liked the idea even more of opening another shop. With the addition of groceries like bottled onions, gherkins and pickles, all-time favourites, there was bound to be a rapid turnover.

Lizzie rang up the last figure in the brass till. She was thinking about her idea when she heard the tinkle of the bell over the shop door. Danny strode towards her. He looked dirty but handsome
in his overalls and her heart lifted at the sight of him. Until she remembered that things between them were very different to how they had been before Christmas. Their dreams of a happy family had
all been shattered the moment Frank had walked into that registry office.

And yet, was Frank to blame for cheating death? she asked herself as Danny approached.

Now, as she smiled at Danny, she wondered how he could have been so mistaken in the identification of the corpse. Fragments from the interview with Bray were like pinpricks of doubt. ‘A
brother would know his own brother,’ the policeman had suggested.

Danny bent, and with gentle affection kissed her cheek. ‘How’s trade, kid?’

‘We’ve had a good day.’

He glanced at the empty glass cabinet. ‘I can see that.’ He looked over his shoulder and out of the window. ‘You got any late customers?’

At this suggestion she laughed. ‘Business is over for the day.’

‘I’ve got some bad news.’

Lizzie looked at him uncertainly. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘Have you seen Frank?’

‘No, why should I have?’ She hesitated, frowning. ‘You know he won’t turn up here.’

‘That’s exactly what he might do. Someone’s cleaned out the workshop.’

‘What!’

He smiled without humour. ‘A puzzle, ain’t it? Coincidence, Frank showing up and all my stuff is nicked. Everything down in the workshop.’

‘And you think it’s Frank?’

‘Well, it ain’t Ferreter. He’s in the jug.’

‘But what proof have you?’ Lizzie asked in confusion. ‘Did anyone see him?’

‘No, but who else has it in for me?’

‘Danny, it don’t sound to me as if Frank would do that. Your dad says he’s done with his bent days—’

‘How would Dad know –
really
know – what Frank’s intentions are?’ Danny broke in. ‘Frank will have told him what he wants to hear.’

‘Bill is no fool,’ Lizzie protested. ‘He’s forgiven but not forgotten the punishment Frank put him through.’ She saw the fear now in Danny’s face and the
changed man he was becoming. It was as if Frank’s return to life had drained Danny of his own. ‘Danny, I can’t keep living in fear of the past. And neither should you. Who else
would want to burgle the garage?’

‘That’s just it. There ain’t no one.’

‘There must be.’

‘It sounds like you’re defending Frank.’

‘No, why should I?’

‘That’s what I’d like to know.’ His eyes were full of reproach.

‘Danny, we can’t go on like this.’

‘Then move in with me.’ Danny took hold of her, drawing her close. ‘Let’s do as we planned. Set up home together. I’ll sell up, if I have to. We’ll have
enough behind us to go somewhere we ain’t known. Start afresh as Mr and Mrs. We’ll leave the memories – and Frank – behind us. You’ll have all the time in the world to
sit back and enjoy yourself. Be a real mum, look after Polly and Tom.’

‘You want us to run away?’

‘I’d call it making a fresh start.’

‘But I’ve worked hard for this shop. As hard as you have for the garage. You don’t want to sell up, no more than I do.’

‘I’d give it all up if you asked me.’

‘I would never do that.’ Lizzie looked into his unshaven face. A face she loved so much and yet he felt like a stranger. ‘Running won’t help,’ she whispered.
‘Mud sticks wherever you go.’

‘So you’re going to stay married to Frank forever?’

‘I’m not saying that.’

Danny threw back his head. ‘I’m supposed to kick my heels in the meantime?’ He stared at her, adding in a low voice, ‘For twelve long years I dreamed of you and me, from
back in the day, when I asked you to go with me to Aussie. I lost you then and I’m losing you now.’

Lizzie was silent, her thoughts in turmoil. As much as she loved him, she had carved a life out of her misery and won her right to live the way she wanted with Polly. There wasn’t anywhere
they could run to. Frank or no Frank, this was her and Pol’s life and she cherished it. If only Danny could understand that.

There was resignation in his face now. He shrugged and, turning, walked to the shop door. ‘I’ll see you around.’

‘What are you going to do now?’ She followed him.

‘Find myself some tools. Whoever cleaned me out won’t stop me from running my business.’

The bell tinkled and Danny’s tall figure strode across the street. He climbed in the parked truck and drove away.

Was losing Danny the price of Frank’s return? Lizzie wondered sadly. She hadn’t meant to defend Frank, but why would Frank steal from the garage? If what Bill said was true about
Frank’s change of heart, his making an enemy of Danny just didn’t add up. Frank needed all the friends he could get, including his brother.

So what was she to believe?

It was the last Sunday in March and Lizzie was sitting with Flo on the bench in Island Gardens. Polly was with her Uncle Syd and Lil, back at Langley Street, and she and Flo
had snatched an hour to themselves.

‘Well, you’re the first to know,’ Flo announced with a wry smile, as she settled herself on the hard wooden slats. ‘I’m in the family way.’

‘You’re expecting?’ Lizzie gasped.

‘The doctor examined me.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes, course. I’m feeling sick as a dog, can’t face breakfast and I’m having to force down dinner.’

‘Flo. A baby! Come here and give me a hug.’ Lizzie pulled her sister into her arms.

‘Dunno what the neighbours will think.’ Flo grimaced. ‘It won’t take long to get round the street.’

As they sat in the pale spring sunshine, Lizzie’s glance went to her sister’s full breasts. Her well-proportioned figure was hidden under her herringbone wool wrap-over coat. Flo had
always been well-endowed and she looked no different today. But her deep brown hair seemed thicker and glossier and her cheeks had the fresh blush of health. ‘I’m three months gone
already.’

‘What does Syd have to say?’

‘Oh, he’s talking names already.’ Flo rolled her eyes. ‘You’d think we’d won a fortune on the gee-gees. He don’t seem to be bothered I’ll have to
pack in work as soon as I start showing. Lucky enough I’m on the big side anyway and no one has said anything yet. My boss won’t like it, of course. I only just had the promotion at
Christmas. And there goes our posh honeymoon. All our pennies will have to be spent on the baby.’

‘Yes, but you’re having the family you always wanted.’

‘It wasn’t supposed to happen so quickly.’

Lizzie smiled. ‘That’s what comes of having a lodger.’

Flo blushed hotly. ‘Syd wanted us to get married last year. I should have taken him up on his offer.’

‘You can still be married in white if you do it soon.’

‘Yes, provided me dress covers the bump.’

‘You should be celebrating. I’m sure Syd can’t wait for the day when he can slip that ring on your finger.’

‘Nor can his mum.’

Lizzie took in a breath. ‘Have you told her?’

‘I went to meet the family last Sunday. Syd said it was time I did. As you know I’ve been keeping my distance as the Millers have got a bit of a rep in the East End. But this baby
changes everything. They will be its only grandparents.’

‘What are they like?’

‘Syd’s mum, the Missus, has worked all her life as a char but three of his brothers are doing time. Syd’s old man lives for the gee-gees and his tipple. Walter and Clifford run
a scrapyard when they’re not on their holidays. How my Syd ever turned out the sound sod he is, I’ll never know. The family live in a three-up, two down over Mile End. Sons, wives,
girlfriends and the grandkids.’

‘A bit crowded then. Do they know you’re in the family way?’

‘Not likely. I found myself mute after listening to the accounts the women gave of each birth.’

Lizzie laughed. ‘At least you’ve broken the ice.’

‘Yes, a day with the Millers is memorable.’

‘You’ll soon be the Missus’s daughter-in-law.’

‘I just hope Syd can steer clear of Walter and Clifford. They kept trying to talk him into the family business.’

‘What does Syd have to say about all this?’

‘Oh, you know Syd.’ Flo wrinkled her nose under her fringe. ‘He sees a redeeming feature in each one of his brothers. And only puts distance between them and us because he
knows I won’t go along with any old hanky-panky. But the baby coming along means that not only will we have to get spliced, but I’ll have to swallow my pride too.’

‘If you love a man, then you love his family.’

Flo’s curved dark eyebrows arched sharply. ‘Like that, is it? Love one, love ’em all?’

Lizzie frowned at her sister. ‘What do you mean?’

‘From what you’ve told me today you sound as if it’s all happy families with Frank again.’

Lizzie knew that Flo was not going to let her off lightly. She’d tried to tell Flo in as few details as possible about Frank’s return to the fold. But Flo was like a dog with a bone.
‘Bill has given him another chance is all I said.’

‘And you’re siding with Bill?’

‘I didn’t say that. Bill’s made up his own mind.’

‘You know you’re asking for trouble, don’t you?’ Flo’s look of disgust was plain.

‘After what you’ve told me about the Millers, I’d say the pot was calling the kettle black.’

‘Syd is a good bloke, unlike your husband. Do you really believe this cock and bull story about a loony bin?’

‘I don’t know what to believe. But Bill has been like a father to me. And he’s happier than he’s been in a long while. When he calls in the shop, it’s just like old
times. He cracks a joke and talks to the customers as if he was still running the business. Gertie is willing to believe what Frank says, because he is having a healthy influence on his
dad.’

‘Do you want my opinion?’ Flo asked impatiently.

Lizzie thought she knew Flo’s opinion but she wasn’t prepared for what her sister said next.

‘I think you’re still Mrs Frank Flowers at heart. Frank is a shrewd operator. Always was. I remember how even I was taken in as a kid. Until the night of Bill’s Christmas party
before Danny went away. And then I saw what you didn’t see. Or perhaps you didn’t want to see. I saw him looking at Babs in a way that he never looked at you. Unlike you, our Babs was
easy but she was lazy. Whereas Frank saw the potential in you, a hard worker and good earner. Now he appears again like the Angel Gabriel, his debauched and villainous nature having undergone a
miraculous change. He’ll have polished his fallen halo until it blinds you and you forgive him everything.’