Riches of the Heart (15 page)

The look of relief on his face was her reward. ‘I love you so much, Lily.’

‘I know. And I love you, Fred.’ It wasn’t a lie. In her own way she did love this man. Not in the way she loved Tom, but in her heart was a warm affection for Fred Bates. She would never leave him. How could she?

In court the next day, the magistrate sent Fred down for six months.

When Lily walked back into the house, it seemed empty, lifeless. She had been stunned to hear the sentence. Fred had looked at her with a tragic expression on his features. She’d smiled bravely across the courtroom at him, but was devastated when she saw him led away.

Looking in the larder, she saw she had enough food for a couple of days. Meagre offerings perhaps, but she remembered when such things would have meant a feast. There was no time to waste. If she was to survive, she would have to see Sandy. She would take herself off to The Sailor’s Return tonight.

Declan was the first to see her as she entered the bar, somewhat uncertainly. ‘Lily, me girl. How are you? Come on over here.’

Sandy was sitting talking to a young man at one of the small tables. He looked up when he heard Declan greet her, made his excuses to his companion and came over right away. ‘Hello, Lily.’ Something about her demeanour caused him concern. ‘What’s the matter?’

She gave a wry smile. ‘I always seem to meet you when I’ve got a crisis.’

‘Then perhaps we had better sit down. Let me get you a drink. What’ll it be?’

‘Half a bitter will be fine, thanks.’

He carried the drinks over and sat beside her in a quiet corner.

‘Fred’s in gaol.’

‘Oh dear.’ He frowned. ‘Been dipping again, has he?’

She nodded. ‘I’m afraid so. I have a roof over my head, but no money, so I need a job. You said if I wanted to sing around the pubs, you’d help me.’

‘I did and I will. But if you’re going to make a success of this, you need a bit of training. You come round to my place tomorrow and we’ll rehearse. I’ll set you up with the right gear, and we’ll go from there.’

‘How long will it take, Sandy? I’m broke.’

He fished in his pocket and produced two one-pound notes. ‘Here, this will keep you going for a bit.’

She put up her hand and shook her head. ‘I can’t take that.’

Tossing his hair back with a flourish, he said, ‘Now, dearie, don’t play the prima donna … that’s
my
role. You can pay me back later.’

With a thankful smile, she took the money.

‘Poor old Fred.’

Sandy’s sympathy brought tears to her eyes. ‘When they took him away, he looked awful.’

‘Well, being in the nick is no picnic.’ Sandy put his hand on her arm. ‘Don’t you worry now, pet. I’ll teach you everything I know. With me as your manager, you’ll be fine.’ He winked. ‘And I won’t expect to sleep with you. Your honour will be intact.’

The wicked twinkle in his eye made Lily chortle, despite her problems.

‘Look, I’ll write down my address,’ he said, ‘and you come round tomorrow afternoon. Best not say the morning in case I get lucky tonight.’ He looked across to where his boyfriend was waiting. ‘It looks quite promising. What do you reckon? … Good-looking, isn’t he? Think I stand a chance?’

‘I don’t know.’ Shaking her head, Lily said, ‘I refuse to get drawn into your love-life. I’ll see you tomorrow. And thanks.’

The following afternoon, Lily made her way to Bond Street, checked the number on the scrap of paper, then knocked on the door. Sandy opened it, a broad grin on his face. ‘Come in, dearie. I’m all ready.’

He was wearing a loose, brightly coloured silk shirt over his trousers, his cravat around his neck – and carpet slippers.

‘All you need is a feather boa, and you’ll do,’ said Lily, amused at his appearance.

‘Cheeky.’

He took her coat, and sat her down at the table in the middle of the room. Lily looked about her. The settee had bright cushions on it, the floral curtains were frilled and the rag rug was a riot of colour. ‘Are you sure you’re not colour blind?’ she teased.

‘Listen, darling, this bloody world is dark enough. This is my answer to it. Now, I’ve got a lot of sheet music here. We’ll go through it and see which numbers you know, then we’ll work out a programme.’

They pored over the music together; the songs Lily already knew were put to one side, while Sandy hummed the others to her. Those she liked they kept, and the rest were put away for the time being. Lily began to enjoy herself.

‘Right.’ Sandy clapped his hands. ‘We have to mix the tempo. Some jolly old singalongs, others that you can sell to them as a solo.’

‘What do you mean, sell to them?’

‘Put them over. You know, all soulful-like. Tear at their heartstrings. Like “Danny Boy”. When you sang that in the pub, you could hear a pin drop. Then a nice jaunty number. “A Little of What You Fancy Does You Good”, would be about right. You can be good and cheeky with that, you know, a nod and a wink here and there. Then perhaps a bit of raunch.’

Her eyes twinkled. ‘What’s a bit of raunch when it’s about?’

He frowned and scratched the back of his head. ‘Let me see, how can I make you understand? I know.’ Getting up from the table, he ran to the stairs. ‘Won’t be a minute.’

She gave a puzzled frown. What was the old devil up to now?

To her amazement, Sandy eventually appeared in a long evening gown, high-heeled shoes and a feather boa.

‘Tra la!’ He stood hand on hip, head tilted, a provocative expression on his face and started to sing: ‘After you’ve gone, there’s no use crying. After you’ve gone, there’s no denying …’ He really put his heart and soul into the number. He was amazing.

When he had finished, Lily applauded enthusiastically. ‘That was terrific! I think
you
should be the one singing.’

‘I’d be locked up. But you see what I mean?’

Lily looked perplexed. ‘I do, but I couldn’t do that.’

‘Listen, dearie, dressed in the right clothes you can do anything. Clothes give you a character. It’s like as kids we used to dress up to play games. It helps. Come upstairs and I’ll show you.’

When he opened the wardrobe door, Lily was astounded. There were several evening gowns and dresses, hats and shoes. ‘Are these all yours?’

‘Lovely, aren’t they, darling? Aren’t you just a teeny weeny bit jealous?’

Seeing the mischievous grin on his face, she shook her head. ‘You old queen, as a matter of fact I am.’

Taking out a red gown decorated with sequins he said, ‘This ought to fit you. Try it on.’

‘What, now?’

‘Of course now. I’ll wait downstairs. Here.’ He handed her a small black hat with an osprey feather across the front. ‘Put this on as well, and these.’ He passed her a pair of long black gloves.

‘Blimey, Sandy. I’ll look like a bloody toff in this lot.’

‘You will, my dear. You certainly will.’

Lily was thoroughly enjoying herself now. It reminded her of the days at Rachel Cohen’s shop when she used to dress up, all by herself. When she was ready, she walked carefully down the stairs and struck a pose, leaning against the door, puffing on an imaginary cigarette. ‘How will I do?’

Sandy, who had changed back into his trousers and shirt, smiled in satisfaction. ‘You look wonderful. I don’t think you know quite what a beauty you really are. You should always be dressed in beautiful clothes, you carry them so well.’

‘Don’t give me that old flannel.’ She was embarrassed by what she knew to be a genuine compliment.

‘Right. Then let’s get started.’

For the next three hours, Lily worked really hard. Sandy, she realised, knew his business and she listened and learned. At the end of the session, they were both exhausted and collapsed into a couple of chairs.

‘I need a pick-me-up,’ he wailed. He went into the scullery and returned with a couple of glasses and a bottle of Guinness. ‘Here, drink this. It’s full of iron – do you good. What am I saying? It will do us both good. Frankly, I’m knackered.’

After they’d taken a rest, Sandy said, ‘Look, love. If we work every day, we’ll start at The Sailor’s Return at the weekend. You were a hit the other time you sang with me. Think of it as practice. Then we’ll start moving around.’

Lily was suddenly overcome with nerves. ‘Do you really think I can do it?’

Placing his hand over hers he said, ‘Lily, my dear, I told you that first night. You’re a natural. You have a gift. All you need is a little polish to be like a professional, and I can give you that. Now off you go. Come back at the same time tomorrow.’

Whilst Lily was practising her routines, ready for the new start to her life, Mary Harris was planning the campaign to start hers, as Mrs Tom McCann.

Things were not going at all well. She couldn’t put her finger on the reason, but suddenly Tom didn’t seem quite so enthusiastic about naming the day. He kept making excuses as to why the time wasn’t right.

‘I need to save a little more money, Mary. I don’t want us to go into debt as soon as we get married. I want a small nest egg at the back of me.’

‘I have a little saved,’ she insisted. ‘What with us both working, and you earning good money, I don’t see what the problem is.’

He became irritated. ‘Now listen to me, you’d better get used to the idea that I’m the one who makes the decisions – now … and certainly when we get married!’

She moved across the room and stood behind his chair, putting her arms around his neck, snuggling her cheek into his. ‘Of course you are, darling,’ she wheedled. And was put out when he pushed her away.

‘What’s got into you, Tom?’

‘Nothing’s got into me,’ he snapped. ‘What are you on about?’

Mary gave a childish pout. ‘These past few days, you’ve been acting very strange. You’ve been almost distant. You’ve hardly kissed me.’

‘Don’t be so bloody ridiculous!’

Mary’s green eyes deepened in anger. ‘There’s no need to swear. It’s common.’

Getting up from the chair, he said, ‘For God’s sake leave me alone, woman. You’re turning into a right nag – and I won’t put up with it.’ He grabbed for his coat, lifted it off the hook behind the door and walked out, slamming the door behind him.

Storming off down the road, Tom felt a stab of guilt. Mary was right, of course. Ever since he’d seen Lily, he’d been cool with his fiancée. He couldn’t get Lily out of his mind; Mary had become an irritation. She wanted to get married and soon. All of a sudden he wasn’t so sure. There was and always would be only one woman for him, and she’d turned him down … twice. First by running away and now by living with another man. That still stuck in his craw, but in his heart Tom knew that if she changed her mind tomorrow, he would take Lily back.

When Declan told him that night over a pint that Fred had been sent down for six months, Tom’s first thoughts were of Lily. How would she manage? He left his drink on the counter and walked out of the bar without a word. Declan looked on in amazement.

Knocking on Lily’s door, Tom found his heart was pounding. The very thought of seeing her again sent the adrenalin surging through him.

‘What do you want?’ demanded Lily when she saw him standing there. ‘Come to insult me all over again?’

But this time, there was no anger in his eyes, only concern. ‘No, Lily, I promise. Can I come in for a moment?’

Reluctantly, she stepped aside. She’d been shocked to see him at the door and didn’t think she could bear to have him in the house, so near to her. She had to be on her mettle. ‘Well?’

‘Look, tonight Declan told me about Fred. I’m really sorry and I wondered how you would be able to cope without his money coming in. Can I help in any way?’

Her heart was bursting with happiness. Tom wanted to help her. He must still love her. But she remained distant. ‘No, thanks. I’m going round the pubs with Sandy, singing. He thinks I should do all right.’

The wonderful spark in her eyes … It was still there. He caught hold of her arm. ‘Is it really too late for us, Lily?’

Lily wanted to die. All she wanted was Tom, but again she’d have to turn him down. ‘I told you before. It’s over.’

There was a sudden flame in his eyes. In a low, husky voice he asked, ‘Is it, Lily? I don’t believe it is.’

Before she knew what was happening, he pulled her to him, held her firmly in his arms and kissed her. His lips traced the shape of her mouth, exploring it gently, making her legs tremble. At first she fought against him, but as his mouth moved over hers, opening her reluctant lips, exploring her mouth with the tip of his tongue, she couldn’t help herself. She kissed him back with all the love that she felt for him and had to deny.

‘Oh Lily, Lily,’ he murmured against her cheek, before again searching for her mouth. His hands slipped beneath her jumper, caressing her back, sending tingles down her spine. He kissed her eyes, her neck. ‘I want you, Lily,’ he whispered against her throat. ‘Let me make love to you. I need you. God! I’ve been crazy all these months thinking you were dead. Then to find you. I want to make love to you – now. Don’t deny me. Please.’

How could she deny him? The fire of passion was building inside her; she wanted him too. Taking his hand, she led him upstairs.

‘Not in his bed,’ said Tom sharply.

‘No,’ she said, ‘in here.’ They went into the spare room. Lily closed the curtain and turned to face him.

He drew her slowly towards him and slipped the jumper she was wearing over her head. Her exposed breasts filled him with an even greater desire. He cupped them gently in his hands and kissed them.

Lily moaned with delight.

Tom slid the skirt from her rounded hips and removed her undergarments. Picking her up, he laid her on the bed. ‘You are so beautiful, Lily. I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve dreamed of this moment.’

‘Tom. Oh Tom,’ she groaned as he explored her body with his sensitive fingers, probing, stroking until she thought she’d go crazy.

He slipped his own clothes off and lay beside her.

She felt the hardness of his manhood pressing into her side, sending shivers of expectancy through her. She caressed his broad shoulders, kissing his chest, nibbling his ear. Ran her fingers through his auburn hair, calling his name as he brought her to the point of ecstasy.