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Authors: Carol Rivers

Lizzie of Langley Street (38 page)

BOOK: Lizzie of Langley Street
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She felt her heart flutter. What was he going to tell her? Had he decided it was better to go back to Australia? She couldn’t blame him. They couldn’t live their lives like this. She
had that dreadful feeling inside, an ominous dread, and she sat back, closing her eyes for a moment to block out the pain. She didn’t want to hear what he said.

‘Lizzie, Elsa and I were never married.’

It wasn’t what she had expected to hear. Her eyes flew open. She stared at him. ‘What? But you said your wife—’

‘I never said she was my wife. I told you Tom’s mother’s name was Elsa, that she was Swedish and she died of pneumonia. And that’s all true.’

‘But Tom said . . .’

‘Tom thinks we were married. I’ve never told him otherwise.’

‘I don’t understand,’ Lizzie said helplessly.

Danny looked down at his hands, smoothing his thumb distractedly over the cuts and scrapes on his knuckles. ‘Tom isn’t my son. I’m not his father.’

She held her breath, attempting to understand, to fit the pieces together.

‘There were emigrants on the boat going over,’ Danny continued. ‘Sven and Elsa were from Sweden; just married—’

‘You mean Elsa was married to someone else?’

‘Yes. Sven was a motor mechanic, hired by the gold-mining company I was going to work for. I met them on the boat going to Australia. Whilst at sea he showed me his books and diagrams.
They were all about fuel pumps, carburettors, and other new parts for engines. Sven was going to fit them to the vehicles used for hauling the gravel. The old trucks had gravity feed mechanisms.
The gold-mining companies wanted to find out if they could work with the new carburettors. On the journey to Australia I began to learn about my future trade – although at the time I
didn’t realize it.’

‘What happened when you got to Australia?’

‘I went to Sydney, attempting to get the postal arrangements sorted out. Then I met Elsa and Sven at the gold-field town of Castlemaine. Sven was working on the big trucks. I had a job
underground, in the mine. On my time off I helped Sven in his workshop. He said the motor engine was the gold I was looking for. He suggested I should change jobs. He put in a word in for me with
the company.’ Danny looked into the fire, his eyes distant. ‘One day, I persuaded him to come down the mine, to see my world. I suppose it was a bit of bravado.’ Danny swallowed,
lowering his head, his hands clenched together. ‘That day, the mine flooded. Eight of my mates got drowned. Sven and I were swept into a cavity, an air pocket. He was unconscious, but I
managed to hold on to him. It took them two days to get us out. By the time they brought us to the surface it was too late.’

The fire crackled. The room seemed very still. After a while he continued. ‘Elsa was pregnant with Tom. I didn’t know how to face her. She didn’t like Australia or the climate.
She was very homesick. And with the shock of Sven . . .’ It was another long moment before he looked up. ‘Elsa got sick. When the baby came, it was touch and go. For two years I looked
after them. Tom became like my own son.’ He looked into Lizzie’s eyes. ‘I got an apprenticeship in the workshop with the company. I never went underground again. Elsa never blamed
me. She didn’t need to. I blamed myself.’

‘No, Danny,’ Lizzie protested. ‘You couldn’t have known the mine would flood.’

‘If it hadn’t been for me, Sven would be alive today. That’s why I’ve never been able to tell Tom.’

Lizzie said gently, ‘You will one day.’

‘I don’t know. What will he think of me?’

‘He’ll understand. He’ll always love you.’ She asked softly, ‘Did you write all this, in your letters to me?’

He nodded. ‘After Sven’s death, I had to stay. But I’d made my promise to you and I hoped you’d understand what was keeping me from returning. Later, when Elsa died, I
sent a cable to Dad explaining I intended to come home but it would take me a while to save the money to get our passage back and have enough to set up my own business. I hoped that, even if you
couldn’t forgive me for not returning, there still might be a chance . . .’

‘Bill never received a cable as far as I know. If he had, I’m sure he would have told me.’

Once more they were silent, reflecting on the twists of fate that had kept them apart. Frank’s intervention had set the seal on her future. Sven’s death had determined the course of
Danny’s life.

The silence was suddenly broken as a clatter of feet down the airey steps told them the others were back. Flo, Syd and the children burst in through the front door. They were full of the games
they had played at the park. As Polly sat on Lizzie’s lap, chattering away, Lizzie looked at Tom. Sitting by the fire, his fair hair gleaming, no one would have ever doubted that he was
Danny’s blood.

There were tears and tantrums the following week. On Tuesday, after school, Tom and Polly sat at the tea table with long faces. Tom and Danny were leaving that day. ‘I
don’t want Tom to go.’ Big, wet drops rolled down Polly’s cheeks.

Lizzie had grown very fond of Tom. Through him, she had come to know his parents. Tom’s blond hair and fair skin were not Danny’s, as everyone had assumed, they were from his
Scandinavian parents.

‘Tom has to go,’ Lizzie told Polly.

‘When it was my birthday and I made a wish,’ wailed Polly, ‘it was for someone to play with. And it came true.’

Lizzie sat beside Polly. What could she say to comfort her? ‘You can still play at school.’

‘It’s not the same. Why can’t he stay?’

‘Because he has to have a home too.’


He
’s
on
l
y got a landlady
i
n Nap
i
er
Road.’’

Lizzie smiled. ‘Isn’t it much better that Tom only lives a few streets away, rather than in Australia?’

‘I s’pose so.’

‘When are we going, Auntie Lizzie?’ Tom, always hungry, bit into a slice of Lil’s sponge. His large blue eyes stared up at her.

‘After tea. Your dad took your things to Napier Street this morning. Uncle Bert’s driving you over to the workshop.’ Danny had packed their few belongings and come up to the
shop to say goodbye. She had tried to pretend she was happy for them, that things were returning to normal. But inside she felt as unhappy as Polly.

‘I’m not going to wash tonight,’ Polly stated rebelliously.

‘You’ll stink if you don’t,’ Tom giggled. Suddenly there were smiles again. Tears and laughter mingled as the children finished their tea.

They waved goodbye to Tom as he sat in the van beside Bert. Tom’s pale face peered out of the window. Polly ran to the bedroom in tears. Lizzie went after her, pausing at Danny and
Tom’s bedroom as she passed. She could still smell them there. It hurt.

The days passed and April arrived. Lizzie hadn’t seen Danny and she missed him. Polly brought home bits of news from school. According to Tom his dad was very busy at the
workshop. He was getting lots of work from the factories. There was no mention of trouble and Lizzie wondered if they had all been wrong about Frank trying again.

It was a bright spring Saturday when a big black car pulled up outside the shop. A man was driving it, a woman sitting beside him. Lizzie’s mouth fell open as Babs climbed out. She was
dressed in a bright red coat with a black feather boa. Her high heels clattered as she entered the shop. All the customers turned to stare. A waft of cheap perfume floated in.

Bert dropped a sack with a thump on the floor. Babs swaggered past the queue. A lady with a baby in her arms shouted, ‘’Ere, we was ’ere first. You wait yer turn.’

‘Keep yer hair on,’ laughed Babs. ‘I ain’t come here to stand in a bloody queue, missus. ’Ello, then, gel.’ Babs sounded as if she’d seen Lizzie only
yesterday.

Lizzie’s heart pounded under her coat. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘Charming, I must say.’ Babs looked Lizzie up and down.

‘Why didn’t you let me know you were coming?’

‘Why the bloody hell should I?’ Babs ran her tongue over her teeth. ‘Anyway, I didn’t know, did I? I got a friend to drive me over at the last moment.’

The shop was all ears. All heads turned to look at the car.

Lizzie didn’t want half of the island hearing. ‘You’d better come out the back.’

Panic was welling up in her as she entered the storeroom. What did Babs want after all this time?

‘Christ, this gives me the creeps,’ Babs muttered as she walked in. ‘It’s so bloody cold in here. And that stink of veg! Knocks yer blooming socks off!’

‘What do you want?’ Lizzie demanded again. She looked at Babs with contempt. Why had Babs stolen those letters that Danny sent? Was it because Frank had persuaded her to do so? Babs
had only been a girl then, not even sixteen. Still, she had been a worldly wise one. Frank must have bribed her to do it. What did he use? His charm? Money? Promises? Whatever it was, Babs had
aided him in his plans to keep Danny away. Lizzie could never forgive her for that. Babs didn’t have the right to walk back into their lives whenever she felt like it. But, forcing down the
urge to challenge her, Lizzie said nothing, for Polly’s sake.

Babs walked around the room. ‘I’ve come to see me daughter.’

That was the worst news Lizzie could have heard. ‘You haven’t shown any interest in years. You didn’t even come to her birthday party.’

‘I couldn’t. I was ill.’

‘Why didn’t you send her a present or a card?’

‘I was in hospital, that’s why. I got a touch of TB.’

Lizzie was shocked. ‘Oh, I’m sorry.’

‘They put me in one of them places our Flo was in.’

‘Quarantine, you mean?’

‘Yeah. Don’t worry, I’m all right now. You won’t catch anything.’ Babs shrugged. ‘So, you see, I just want to say hello to me girl. Any objections?’

‘It depends.’ Lizzie didn’t trust Babs. She wasn’t just going to arrive out of the blue and see Polly, even if she was her mother. Did she know what Frank had done to
Danny? Was she just keeping quiet in order to see Polly?

‘I don’t want Polly upset,’ Lizzie said firmly.

Babs glared at her.
‘You
don’t want her upset. She’s
my
bloody kid.’

There was movement at the door and Polly stood there. Lizzie’s heart sank. If Polly hadn’t appeared there might have been a chance of getting rid of Babs.

‘Hello, Mummy.’ Polly was dressed warmly in a green jumper and tartan skirt, her long dark hair tied in two neat plaits. She held a pencil in one hand and a book in the other.

Babs plastered on a smile. ‘’Ello, Pol, love. What you been doing, then?’

‘I’ve been drawing with Auntie Flo. She’s gone out with Uncle Syd.’

‘Uncle Syd, eh?’ Babs cast a smirk at Lizzie before bending down. ‘Come and give yer mother a kiss.’

Polly walked slowly towards her. ‘Do you like my picture?’ Polly showed her the drawing book. Babs forgot about the kiss when she saw it and jabbed the paper with a red fingernail.
‘Who’s this supposed to be, then?’

‘My cousin, Tom. He’s riding a horse like he did in Australia. And there’s me sitting in a car. It’s my Uncle Danny’s car.’

‘Your Uncle Danny, eh? I remember him. Went all the way to Australia. Left yer Auntie Lizzie to go and look for gold.’ Babs pushed the book back into Polly’s small hand.
‘You gonna come out with Mummy?’

‘Where?’ Polly asked curiously. Lizzie’s heart sank even further. She wouldn’t have the heart to stop Polly if she wanted to go. When Polly asked about Babs,
Lizzie’s stock reply was ‘She’ll call one day.’ Well, this appeared to be the day.

‘Up the park,’ Babs replied. ‘And maybe we’ll go for something to eat after. Make up for me missing yer birthday.’

Polly smiled brightly. ‘All right, then.’

‘Hurry up, gel. We’ll have a nice day all to ourselves. That is, if yer Auntie Lizzie don’t put the mockers on it.’ She gave Lizzie a black look.

Lizzie didn’t want to let Polly go. But how could she prevent it? Babs was Polly’s mother. How could she explain to Polly her distrust of Babs? She had always tried to hide what she
truly felt for the child’s sake.

‘What time – exactly – will you bring her back?’

Babs shrugged. ‘Dunno.’

‘You must have some idea.’

‘Oh, flaming heck!’ Babs burst out. ‘After tea. Does that satisfy you?’

‘Polly’s bedtime is eight o’clock.’

‘Yeah, I know that. It’s burned into me brain.’

‘Fetch your coat and gloves from downstairs,’ Lizzie told Polly. ‘If Auntie Flo has gone out, she’ll have left the door on the latch.’

Whilst Polly was gone, Babs opened her bag, took out a packet of cigarettes and a lighter. She lit one, inhaling deeply. She had a smile on her face, as though she was keeping a secret.

Polly’s eyes were bright with excitement when she came running back in.

‘Auntie Flo and Uncle Syd have gone out,’ she chattered breathlessly. ‘But I’ve got my things, even my gloves.’ All her clothes were bundled in her arms.

Lizzie dressed her and gave her a big hug. ‘Be a good girl now.’

Polly nodded and slipped her hand through her mother’s. It broke Lizzie’s heart to see the little girl walk out so trustingly. She prayed that Polly would remain safe.

By nine o’clock that night, Lizzie was desperate. She was pacing the floor, berating herself for letting Polly go. Her heart was jumping around in her chest. Where were
they? Why hadn’t they returned?

Lizzie burst into tears when Flo came back from the pub.

‘What’s the matter, what’s happened?’ Flo asked.

‘She’s not back!’ Lizzie wailed. ‘I should never have agreed to her going out. Who was that man in the car? They could have gone anywhere. Polly could be miles away by
now. I might never see her again!’

‘Don’t panic’ Flo tried to calm her. ‘Look, you know what Babs is like. She’s got no idea of time.’

‘I told her Polly goes to bed at eight.’

‘Yeah, well, Babs dunno eight from midnight, does she?’

Lizzie put her hands over her face. ‘Something’s happened, Flo. I know it. Oh, Polly, why did I ever say yes?’ Lizzie sank down on the couch, the tears flowing.

‘I’ll make you a cup of tea.’ Flo turned to Syd, who was standing there with his coat on. ‘’Ere, Syd, make yerself useful and talk to her, will you.’

BOOK: Lizzie of Langley Street
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