Lily of Love Lane (7 page)

Lily shook her head. ‘I ain’t in prison and I’m trying to get on with me work.’

‘You are ignorant of the way you’re being used,’ he boomed back. ‘Join us sister, and we’ll show you the way to freedom.’

‘I ain’t your sister,’ Lily replied, recoiling.

‘Leave her alone!’ Reube was beside her, poking the man in the shoulder. ‘Get orf, you bloody troublemaker. Can’t you see you’re losing us business?’

The Blackshirt began to shout at Reube and Ted came running up.

‘What do yer want round here?’ he demanded, waving his big fist. ‘Clear orf, the lot of you!’

But soon Mosley’s men had descended on them. One man pushed Reube who fell back on the stall. All the articles went flying. The china cups and saucers broke on the cobbles. There was
shouting and yelling and Lily’s wrist was grabbed by one of the Blackshirts. She tried to wriggle free but he wouldn’t let go.

She was so afraid she felt faint. She knew she should take the paper just to satisfy him. Then she saw Reube on the ground, with a man punching him. Ted was trying to drag him off whilst Florrie
and Vera were screaming.

Suddenly a figure appeared at her side. She looked up to see Charles Grey. Staring at the man who held her, he said quietly but threateningly, ‘You and your friends should leave before the
police arrive.’ He snatched the paper from the man’s hand and tore it in half. ‘Your leader won’t be too impressed to know that your antics here will cause him a great deal
of embarrassment. I believe he is conjuring hopes for a New Party?’ At these words, the man froze. ‘Go back to Mosley and tell him he has not yet penetrated the East End. Nor ever will
whilst you act like ignorant thugs.’

The man glared at him, joined by his companion who had disengaged himself from the fight. One by one they slunk off, casting disgruntled frowns over their shoulders. The market people began to
jeer them. As Reube rubbed his jaw, Charles Grey helped him to his feet.

‘The buggers,’ Reube growled, raising his own fist to the departing group. ‘Don’t you show yer ugly mugs round here again.’

‘I’m afraid they might,’ said Charles Grey.

‘Well, they’ll find us waiting next time,’ said Reube angrily. ‘Look what they done to me china.’ He bent down and began to pick up the pieces.

As the other stallholders came over to help Reube, Charles Grey took Lily’s arm. ‘Are you hurt, Lily?’

She smiled shakily. ‘No, I don’t think so.’

‘You’re still trembling.’

She didn’t know whether she was trembling because of the Blackshirts or because she was looking into the face that she had thought she would never see again. His dark eyes were concerned
for her.

‘What are you doing here?’ she asked.

‘I came to find you.’

Lily gasped. ‘Has the aspidistra died?’

‘No, in fact, it’s flourishing.’ The smile he gave her made her feel weak at the knees.

‘Oh, that’s a relief.’

He laughed softly and Lily’s heart went off at a tangent again. Why had he come to find her?

‘Lily . . .’ He moved her across the pavement to the shelter of the café which was now empty because of the disruption. ‘I wonder if you have the time one day to join me
on a trip to the city? I would like to buy some more pieces for the house. And would value your advice – and of course, your company.’

Lily stared up at him. The noise from the stallholders and shoppers was growing as the excitement of what had happened created a stir. Reube was busy telling the story of how he had sent them
off with a flea in their ear.

‘I . . . well—’ she stammered.

‘I shan’t be offended if you say no, of course.’

‘It’s not that.’

‘What is it, then?’

How could she explain that she didn’t have any spare time? How would a gentleman like him be able to understand that she was the breadwinner of the family?

‘I only have Sundays free,’ she said at last.

‘Oh dear. I was hoping to buy in the city and on Sundays the shops are closed.’ He glanced across at Reube. ‘Is this young man your employer?’

Lily nodded.

‘Would it be possible to ask him for a Saturday off?’

Lily felt disappointed. He was making it plain that their outing wouldn’t be a social one. ‘I could ask. Pedro might be able to take my place.’

‘And who is Pedro?’

‘Just a friend who helps out.’

‘I shall certainly recompense both you and he for your time.’

Charles Grey looked at her for a long while, then replaced his hat over his smooth black hair. ‘This Saturday would be most convenient.’

Lily wanted to accept. Would Reube agree? And even if he did, what would she wear?

But before she could decide on what to do, Charles Grey settled the matter for her. ‘It’s obviously not the right time to ask him,’ he smiled, looking once more at the noisy
group of stallholders talking about the Blackshirts. ‘But if you find yourself free next Saturday, at say twelve o’clock, I would be most pleased to meet you.’

‘Would you go up to the city anyway?’ Lily asked.

‘Yes, indeed I would. I’m very happy to collect you in my car – that is, if you can come?’

Lily didn’t want everyone peering out of the windows. She knew that a motor car of any description would draw attention, let alone someone of Charles Grey’s appearance climbing out
of it.

‘If Reube gives me the time off, I’ll walk up to the top of Westferry Road. You’d be going that way to the city, wouldn’t you?’

‘Yes, I would.’

‘I’ll wait on the corner.’

He frowned, then gave a slow smile. ‘As you wish.’

Lily could do nothing but nod, as he stared into her eyes, causing her to feel faint again. Giving her the briefest of bows, he turned and slipped quietly away.

Lily stood there, bewildered and excited. She could hardly believe Charles Grey wanted to see her again even if it was only in a business capacity! She just hoped Reube would allow her a whole
day off.

Lily turned back to the stall, Reube was still in full flow about how he had fought off the gang and given one a black eye. No one it seemed had heard what Charles Grey had quietly said to the
thugs.

The next day they replenished the stall with new stock, a few vases, a set of brass candlesticks and some small china ornaments. Reube had been talking non-stop about the fight
and had found a large stick to hide under the stall.

‘This’ll scare them off,’ he told her. ‘Just let them try threatening me again. If I knew where to send the bill I’d charge them for the damage.’ Reube smiled
at a woman who was looking at the candlesticks. ‘They’d look nice on your joanna, missus,’ he said, ‘a bit of class those are.’

‘I ain’t got a piana,’ the woman replied.

‘You’ve got a shelf, I’m sure.’

‘And it’s filled, ducks, I was only looking.’ She saw the box of broken china that Lily had managed to salvage.

‘You can have that lot for a bob.’

‘Sixpence and throw in that teapot.’

‘You drive a hard bargain, madam.’

The woman laughed, throwing a sixpenny piece on the stall.

Reube placed the teapot in the box with the china and handed it over. ‘You got a bargain there, as it was once bone china before them bloody Blackshirts broke it.’

‘I heard about that,’ his customer replied. ‘How yer fought ’em off after having badly damaged your ankle a week or two back. You’re an ’ero mate, you
are.’

‘Word gets round, don’t it?’ Reube said to Lily when she had gone. He looked very pleased with himself.

Lily smiled. ‘I suppose it’s no use me saying we should let the police know.’

Reube almost fell backwards. ‘Hey now, Lil, what you on about? The rozzers are worse than the gangs. We’ll handle things our own way.’

‘I hope they don’t come back again.’

‘Don’t worry, gel, I’ll be here to protect you.’

Lily wondered if Reube was beginning to enjoy his new status as a hero as he’d been round every other stall on the market and told his story, gaining new respect from the men.

Lily served an elderly gent with a set of tarnished teaspoons while Reube saw to another customer. Then, still smiling and with his usual light step, he went over to the café, bringing
back two chipped enamel mugs, filled with coffee.

‘Wet your whistle, Lil.’

They sat down on two small wooden stools. Lily had decided to ask Reube about next Saturday. Last night she had gone through all her clothes, which weren’t very many. All she had was her
best beige tweed coat and bar strap shoes which she had worn the day she had gone to Dewar Street. But she had found a small black fur on the stall and taken it home to sew on the collar.

Reube suddenly lent forward. ‘Here, who was that gent you was talking to yesterday?’

Lily knew this was the right time. ‘His name is Charles Grey. He’s the man who bought the aspidistra the day you sprained your ankle.’

‘Oh, that was him, was it? What did he want?’

‘He was looking for things for his house,’ she said, hoping this would satisfy Reube.

‘Did he see anything he fancied?’

‘No. Those Blackshirts didn’t help.’ She wanted to say that it was Charles Grey’s words that had scared them off. But now everyone thought Reube was the hero, she
couldn’t.

He considered this as he gulped his coffee. ‘You never know, he might come back. Got a few bob, so Ben said.’

‘He said he’s going up to the city next Saturday.’

‘What, to buy stuff?’

Lily nodded. ‘He asked me to go with him and help him choose.’

Reube lowered his mug and stared at her. ‘Why’s that?’

‘Because he liked what we sold him and where I said to put it.’

‘But you ain’t exactly an authority, gel,’ Reube smirked, shaking his head.

‘I know. But it’s a woman’s touch he wants I suppose. He’s a widower, ain’t he?’

‘Course! I’d forgotten.’

‘So I can go then?’

‘You’d be losing money not working. And you only just started Saturday afternoons.’

‘He said he’d pay us for the trouble.’

A glint suddenly appeared in Reube’s eyes. ‘He’d pay, eh?’ He tilted back the peak of his cap with his mug. ‘I dunno if I’ll manage on me own. Ben’s all
taken up with this new motor of his.’

‘Pedro would help out.’

‘Yer, I ’spose. How much did he say he’d pay?’

‘He didn’t, but he’s not the sort to skimp.’

Reube knitted his brow. ‘Well, it might be beneficial to us, seeing as he’s got this house to fill. I ’spect it was only the Blackshirts that put him off. You could tell him
we’re getting in a lot of new stock, even bring him back here to have a look.’

Lily nodded. She was beginning to feel a small thrill inside her that was making her quite light-headed.

‘All right then, I’ll fix next Saturday up with Pedro.’

‘Thanks, Reube.’

‘Just as long as he pays for your time and my loss, mind,’ Reube warned her, but as the customers began to take his attention, the subject of Charles Grey was forgotten.

As she worked, Lily’s thoughts turned to next Saturday, wondering where they would go and what they would buy. Would she be able to choose the most tasteful things for the house? She could
recall every inch of it; if she were to live there she knew exactly what she would put in it!

As she sat on the stool beside Reube, with the winter sunshine falling on their heads, she thought about Hattie. Should she tell her friend about this tomorrow?

Only last night the doctor had to give Sylvester an injection of morphine. Hattie said he’d been very poorly and she didn’t think she could get out for a walk tomorrow.

Lily felt sorry for Hattie, but she was selfishly excited about her own good fortune. She went to sleep thinking of the tall, dark and unsung hero at the market.

‘Why didn’t you ask him to fetch you?’ her mother enquired a week later. Saturday morning had arrived and Lily was dressed and ready to go out. ‘He
could have come in and had a nice cup of tea.’

‘I thought it better to meet him on his way to the city. After all, if Reube didn’t have Pedro to help him, I wouldn’t go.’

‘Well, you’re in luck with the weather, love,’ Lily’s father glanced over his newspaper. ‘It’s nice and sunny.’

‘But there’s a wind,’ chipped in her uncle.

‘I’ll enjoy a brisk walk.’

‘Do you want me to stroll up with you?’ her dad asked.

‘No, it’s all right, Dad.’ Being escorted by her father was the last thing Lily wanted to happen. She loved her family dearly but wished she could have gone out without so much
fuss.

‘Where do you think you’ll pick up these pieces?’ her mother asked as she sat down in the armchair and began to crochet.

‘I don’t know, Mum. I’ll leave that to him.’

‘Funny he should ask you,’ commented Uncle Noah as he took his place by the fire. ‘And not Reube.’

‘I do know a little about furniture.’

‘Yes, course you do,’ agreed Bob Bright frowning at his brother-in-law. ‘You’re a bright lass.’

‘And you look very nice, dear.’ Her mother’s eyes went over her critically. ‘Where did you get that bit of fur round your neck?’

‘From the stall. It was left over from something or other. Reube didn’t want it.’

‘Well, you’ve made a nice job of doing up that old coat.’

Lily smiled uncertainly at the backhanded compliment, did her coat look old? She hoped that the beige tweed wouldn’t be recognizable to Charles Grey with the fur collar she had attached to
it. And on an inspired idea, she had removed the petersham trim on her hat, replacing it with the blue band from her old cloche.

‘I’d better go now.’ She was eager to leave, but apprehensive that Charles Grey might not remember their appointment. Was meeting her just something he had said on the spur of
the moment? Would she be waiting for hours on a chilly corner?

‘Have you got a clean hanky?’

‘Yes, Mum.’

‘Well, have a lovely time.’

‘I’ll see you later.’ Lily opened the parlour door and smiled at the three faces looking up at her. They were all a little baffled as well as curious. ‘I won’t be
late.’

As she walked down Westferry Road she wondered if Hattie had seen her walk past.

Lily quickened her steps. Her heart told her that whatever price she paid to meet Charles Grey, it was worth it. Her head was instructing her not to forget her friends or family, Charles Grey
had only said he needed her advice. But he had also added that he would like her company too!