Lizzie's Secret (7 page)

‘How kind,' Lizzie said. ‘Is there anything I can do for you before I start cooking?'

‘Oh no, Ed will do all that,' Madge said, looking shy. ‘Cooking will help him with the rest of it…'

‘I'll show you the kitchen and where the food is,' Ed said and led the way. One look told Lizzie that he hadn't had time to wash the dishes from his lunch and she made up her mind that as soon as she had the pie in the oven and the vegetables ready, she would do as much as she could before she went home. Rolling up her long sleeves, she set to with a will as Ed returned to his wife.

She'd finished most of her chores by the time Ed brought his wife's chair through. He saw what she was doing and shook his head.

‘You've done enough, Lizzie. I can manage now.'

‘Would you like me to give the bedroom a little polish before I go, Madge?,' Lizzie asked.

‘I'd be very grateful,' Madge said. ‘Ed has far too much to do and that polish smells lovely.'

‘I'll come again another time,' Lizzie promised and went into the downstairs bedroom. She would do this one last job before she went home, because the time had fled and her aunt was going to wonder where she was…

*

‘Where on earth have you been?' her aunt started as soon as she entered the kitchen. ‘We've been going frantic. Your uncle was about to go to the police…'

‘I'm sorry if you worried about me.' Lizzie apologised. ‘I went to Ed's house and helped his wife, because she's ill. He has so much to do and so I cooked their supper…'

‘You selfish, careless girl!' Aunt Jane said and slapped her face.

Lizzie recoiled, putting her hand to her cheek. ‘I was just doing a good turn for a friend…'

‘Jane, that wasn't necessary. Lizzie has explained why she's late. She didn't do anything wrong. It was good of her to help a friend who needed her,' her uncle exclaimed.

‘If she has time to clean for someone else she can do more here…'

‘Lizzie does her share. Besides, I fetched a pie and chips for us so we didn't starve. I didn't bring any for you, Lizzie, because I thought you might have eaten out.'

‘No, but a piece of toast will do for me,' Lizzie said. ‘If we've got some cheese or jam that will be fine'

Aunt Jane sighed with exasperation and went off into the sitting room, where her sewing machine was kept, and they heard the treadle going as she started work. Uncle Jack sighed and looked at her sadly.

‘She works too hard and it makes her tired, Lizzie. I'm sorry she hit you…'

‘It's all right. I didn't mean to worry you, but Ed is good to me and he needed some help,' Lizzie said.

No need to apologise to me. ‘

‘Shall I make you a cup of tea, Uncle Jack?'

‘Get your supper first, love. You'll be worn out…'

He sat back in his rocking chair by the fire, eyes closed. Lizzie felt a pang of fear as she looked at his face. His skin looked a putty colour and he looked so tired. She wondered what the doctors had told him, whether he'd had the results of his tests yet, but didn't want to ask, because he would tell her if he wanted her to know.

‘I'll make us a cup of tea first,' Lizzie said. ‘I can sit and eat my bread and jam with you – and then I'll make apple turnovers for tomorrow…'

Her uncle had his eyes closed. He looked exhausted and she knew the small argument had upset him. Had her aunt not noticed how tired he looked or didn't she care? Tears stung behind her eyes, but she mustn't let him know it upset her to see him this way. He needed her to be strong for him and she would for as long as he needed her.

Ed and his wife had their troubles and Lizzie would help them all she could, but in future she would make sure her aunt knew she would be late. She didn't want Uncle Jack being upset for no good reason… because she was afraid that his heart wouldn't stand the strain, and if she lost him – Lizzie couldn't even think about that…

She touched his shoulder, handing him his cup of tea and he smiled up at her.

‘You know I love you, Lizzie,' he said. ‘My life would've been hell without you, love. When I go, there will be something for you.'

‘Please don't,' she said. ‘I want you to stay here with me…'

‘I shall for as long as I can,' he said. ‘I'm sorry, Lizzie. It won't be much longer. When I'm gone, you should leave this house – make a new life for yourself elsewhere. I should have liked to see you wed, but I suppose…' He shook his head and sipped his tea.

‘Perhaps I might get wed if I could go out with friends,' Lizzie said. ‘There's a man where I work – Mr Oliver's nephew – Harry has asked me to the flicks twice but I had to say no. He seems to like me. And Beth wants me to go to a dance with her and her boyfriend If I went I might find someone…but Aunt Jane makes it so difficult.'

‘It isn't fair to you. I know Jane must seem unreasonable, but she believes she is protecting you,' he sighed. ‘Why don't you just tell her you're going to dinner at Beth's house and want to stay the night so that you can spend the evening with your friend?'

‘It would be lying…'

‘Only a little white lie,' her uncle patted her hand. ‘If it keeps the peace why not tell a few white lies, my love? I should be happier if I knew you were secure before I go…'

‘I'll just tell her I'm going to Beth's on Saturday then…'

The narrow alley seemed endless and it was so dark. She ran as fast as she could, the sound of her footsteps echoing in her ears as her breath came in short pants and her chest hurt. She couldn't run any faster and she knew he would catch her. The fear was almost suffocating and she could hardly breathe. He was just behind her now. Glancing back, she saw the dark outline of a man – a man in a long trench coat – but it was too dark to see his face. Fear swept through her and she renewed her efforts to escape, but it was no good; he was catching her. She could hear the ragged sound of his breathing and then she felt his strong hands on her shoulders, dragging her down…

Lizzie woke with a start, sitting bolt upright in bed. She was cold, covered in a fine sweat, and shaking. Her head was filled with such vivid pictures of herself running down a dark alley. The fog was curling in from the river, filling the streets, filling her lungs with its foul taste. She could still hear those footsteps pounding after her and in the distance the hoot of a ship's horn and a tram rattling by. The fear was still with her as she struggled to shake off the awful dream.

It was the first time she'd looked back in her dream; the first time she'd seen him… a man in a long trench coat similar to those worn in the Great War. Was her dream a memory or was it just a nightmare? Everyone said that she'd had an accident when she was fourteen, but what had caused it?

It was just because of that man she'd seen following her the night that Sebastian Winters picked her and Beth up in his car. Just a silly dream! She wouldn't think about it any more.

It was six o'clock. Lizzie's little alarm clock beside her bed was set to go off at half past, but she moved the lever so that it wouldn't ring. Pulling on her dressing gown, she went down the hall to the toilet, thinking how much luckier they were than most people who still had to go out to the backyard or use a chamber pot under the bed.

She had a strip wash in the basin; because Aunt Jane said a bath more than twice a week was a luxury they couldn't afford, shivering a little in the cool air. It was June now but still not really warm enough to be called summer. Or was it just that the house always seemed cold? Aunt Jane kept the range going in the kitchen, but she seldom lit a fire elsewhere, except in the worst of the winter.

Lizzie went downstairs to finish the ironing she hadn't got done the previous night because she didn't want Aunt Jane nagging her today. She worked from eight until twelve on Saturday mornings, and then she was going home with Ed to help him with a few chores. She'd made up her mind to wash the kitchen floor and then go upstairs and clean the bedrooms.

Ed had told her that he was using the single bed in the back room because Madge had been too ill for him to share their double bed. Lizzie knew that the large front bedroom did not have a bed, but she would sweep and perhaps clean the floors, polish the furniture and, if Ed wanted, change the sheets on his bed.

As they worked at their bench that morning, Ed told her that Madge was looking forward to having a chat to her, and the hours went so quickly that it seemed hardly any time at all before they were getting ready to leave. It was just as they were tidying up the bench that Mr Oliver came up to them. Lizzie got a little shock as she saw he was carrying the sketchbook she'd given him days ago when he'd asked for examples of her designs.

‘I shan't keep you long, Lizzie,' he said and opened the book. ‘This hat – it looks good on paper, but how would you make it up?'

Lizzie hadn't known how to make the hat when she'd drawn it, but two weeks of Ed's tuition had taught her enough to describe exactly how she would like to see the hat made up.

‘The shaping is similar to a boater,' she said and he nodded, because that much was obvious. ‘But the hat is made from two layers of stiffening and covered with silk grosgrain. The brim material is pleated and goes right over the stiffening, sewn inside and finished with a ribbon to cover the stitches, and the brim is puffed and soft, apart from the stiffening that forms the crown beneath. It is trimmed with silk roses at the front.'

‘Sounds complicated and expensive,' Mr Oliver said. ‘I want it costed properly and the details on my desk first thing Monday morning.'

‘Yes, sir,' Lizzie felt a twist of excitement inside.

‘Well, that's a feather in your cap, Lizzie.' Ed took the book from her, scrutinising it for a moment. He questioned her on the size of the brim, and Lizzie showed him the pattern she would use in his book. He did a couple of sums on his pad and nodded. ‘If you use the best silk it would cost thirty shillings to make up, which means it would have to sell for nearly two pounds five shillings… too much to be practical, Lizzie, at least that's what he'll say.'

Lizzie thanked him, but kept puzzling over it in her own mind. Perhaps there was another way to make the hat a bit cheaper, because she knew none of their regulars would pay over two pounds for a hat. Their own customers probably couldn't afford to pay nearly four pounds, which it would have to be in a retail shop – but she had more important things to think of today.

Firstly, she was going to help Ed clean house and then she would go home and change before meeting Beth. Her tummy was filled with butterflies at the thought of the evening to come. It was the first time she'd been to a dance and she could hardly keep her excitement inside…

*

‘You've got the house looking much better,' Madge said when they sat down to have a cup of tea and a slice of the seed cake Lizzie had made. ‘Everywhere smells so nice and I know it was getting bad, but I couldn't ask Ed to do any more. He works so hard.'

‘Yes, he does,' Lizzie said. ‘Yesterday we had a huge order and Ed said it would have taken him three days alone. We finished it this morning – and Mr Oliver was pleased, even if he didn't say much.'

‘Bert Oliver is a slave driver.' Madge broke a piece of the cake to pop in her mouth. ‘This is so delicious, Lizzie. You're a girl to be proud of…'

Lizzie blushed with pleasure. ‘It's nothing. I like coming here and I'll come one evening a week and sometimes on a Saturday too. It seems a shame to have that lovely big bedroom upstairs empty though…'

‘Yes, it is a lovely room, and I'd rather have my sitting room for sitting in, but I can't manage the stairs with my back.' Madge sighed. ‘Perhaps one day I will, but until then…'

‘Yes, I know,' Lizzie said. She'd wondered if Madge and Ed could earn a little extra money by taking in a lodger, but she didn't say anything because it wasn't practical. They couldn't manage to look after themselves, let alone have a lodger – unless of course the person they took in was willing to do a bit about the house…

‘I've so enjoyed having you here,' Madge told her. ‘I'm feeling a little better again. I think it was just a chill… and sometimes things seem so hopeless. I've watched my Ed get more and more tired… but since you started helping us, well, it's given us both some hope again.'

‘It's been lovely for me too,' Lizzie assured her. ‘I like doing what I can to help – you won't think I'm rude, but you're just the sort of person I've imagined my mum would have been.'

‘Don't you remember your mother, Lizzie?'

‘Not well,' Lizzie said. ‘I think I was quite small when my parents died – and then, when I was fourteen, I was ill and lost quite a chunk of time. The doctor said it was amnesia due to a bang on the head…'

‘Oh, my poor Lizzie.' Madge reached across the table to squeeze her hands. ‘I'd love to have you as my adopted daughter.'

‘I feel as if you and Ed are family.' Lizzie kissed Madge's cheek. ‘I'm just going to wash up these cups and then I have to leave. I'm going to stay with my friend Beth this evening – we're going to a dance…'

‘You'll enjoy that, Lizzie. I remember when my Ed first took me to the Pally. I was really excited and I had a new dress for it. It was pale blue silk – artificial silk, of course – and the sleeves were short and puffed. I still have it in the wardrobe upstairs.'

‘That sounds lovely. I don't have a special dress for dancing. I'll just wear my Sunday one.'

Lizzie washed the cups but Ed came in and took the drying cloth. ‘You've done more than enough, Lizzie,' he said. ‘I don't know what we can do to thank you.'

‘I don't need thanks,' Lizzie said, feeling a little shy. ‘I don't have much family, and I'd like to think of you as my very good friends.'