The Fight for Lizzie Flowers (22 page)

And somewhere along the line, he, Syd Miller, had not only lost his beloved job, but also was learning the age-old skills of shafting punters and flogging old tat.

Syd looked into his brothers’ florid faces. They were sinking as much booze as they could lay their hands on. In their cheap suits, they thought they looked the bee’s knees. They
gave him hearty slaps on the back and knowing winks. Syd looked round to see if anyone was watching.

To his dismay, someone was. Syd offered Lizzie a weak smile. He regretted having spoken the way he did to her. Guilt had made him aggressive.

Syd tried another smile, deliberately tuning out Clifford and Walter’s voices. He widened his eyes and raised his glass.

But Lizzie just stared at him.

Ethel finished making the tea and sandwiches, wondering just how quickly she could make her escape. She’d left the bowl and jug full of warm water, a flannel and soap on
top of the bedside table. All Frank had to do was wash himself. That wasn’t much to ask. She hadn’t fancied helping him to do that. And to be honest, Frank had seemed happy enough to be
left to his own devices.

She lifted the tray and made her way back to the bedroom. Frank was sitting where she had left him, but he’d still not finished with his ablutions.

‘Come on, let’s get you tidy.’ Reluctantly Ethel put the tray on the bed.

‘Don’t trouble yourself. I can manage.’

Ethel saw he’d taken off his shirt and vest and loosened his braces. His movements were slow as he tried to put his shirt back on. Wincing, he pushed the cloth over his skinny chest. He
wasn’t complaining and, if he had, Ethel suspected she would have told him what to do with his aches and pains.

She found a clean shirt in one of the drawers. ‘You’d better put this on.’

Ethel looked at his skinny chest and protruding ribs. There was a bandage around the top half of him which she realized must cover the wound.

‘You’re dead lucky,’ she told him again as she took away the old shirt and helped him with the new.

‘More dead than lucky, you mean.’

‘Don’t start that.’

‘There was three of them. I could have handled one.’

‘And you really don’t know who it was?’

‘No. Don’t think so. But . . . maybe the voice. It rang a bell.’

‘Did you tell Lizzie that?’

‘No. I kept shtoom.’

She helped him to link his cuffs. ‘Frightened to put a foot wrong, eh?’

‘You could say that.’

‘Listen, Frank, if you want my advice, get better quick.’ She let him button up the front. ‘Then leave Lizzie alone to get on with her own life. You’ll stay friends a lot
longer that way.’

At this, he stared up at her, his blue eyes pale and watery. ‘I don’t want to be friends. I want to make up for the past and—’

‘Don’t even go there,’ Ethel cut in, quickly taking away the bowl. ‘You have to make a new life for yourself. It’s the jam you got yourself into. And let’s
face it, you’re off your trolley half the time.’

Frank gazed up at her, like a dog, she thought, about to be whipped. ‘I’ve got me tablets now. I’m not going crazy again. Look at me. This is what I am, a bleeding cripple. But
I’m on the mend. And I want a chance to give her a better life—’

Ethel put the basin down on the dressing table. ‘Listen, Frank, you’ve got to stop this.’

‘If you was to tell her I’ve changed, she’d believe you.’

Ethel laughed. ‘You crafty sod. That’s what you’re after. Me on your side, cos you know Lizzie and me are best mates.’

‘No, honest, Ethel—’

The shop bell tinkled and startled both of them.

‘I must have forgotten to lock the door.’ Ethel looked round. ‘Someone thinks we’re open. Now eat your sandwich. And when I come back I don’t want to hear a word
more from you. Lizzie’s better off without you and you can take that as my confirmed opinion.’

Ethel hurried along the landing and down the stairs. She wasn’t about to start serving spuds, not in this get-up. Whoever it was would have to catch the market before it closed. There was
still time—

Ethel gasped as a tall figure loomed before her. ‘Cal, my God! You gave me a fright!’ She put her hand on her racing heart. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘What do you think?’ He put his arms around her. ‘I took Tom over to Flo’s and Lizzie said you was here.’

‘Did Mum see you?’

‘No, course not.’

‘Thank goodness for that. I couldn’t stand more questions today. Not with this headache.’

‘Come closer and let me get rid of it for you.’

‘You’re a cheeky sod, do you know that?’ Ethel felt a shiver of delight as he rubbed her back.

‘You seem to like it.’

Ethel grinned. ‘You don’t have a care in the world, do you?’

‘I’ll show you how much I care.’ He put his lips down hard over hers. ‘Have I ever told you you’re a beautiful Sheila?’

‘Lots of times. Now stop this. You’d better come out the back.’ She took his hand and led him through to the storeroom. But she was in his arms again almost before she could
breathe. ‘Cal, not here.’

‘Where then?’

‘I’ve got to go over to Mum’s. They’ll wonder what’s happened to me. And I still haven’t finished feeding the patient.’

Cal frowned at her. ‘Is he giving you trouble?’

Ethel shook her head in amusement. ‘Frank couldn’t pick a fight with a paper bag. I found him on the kitchen floor unable to get up.’

‘I’ll help you.’

Ethel pushed him away. ‘No you won’t. You’ll stay right here. And wait for me.’

‘Just one kiss to keep me sweet, eh?’ He drew her against him and Ethel’s resolve disappeared. Cal was the best kisser she’d ever known in her life. Not that she’d
tasted many men’s kisses other than Richard’s. She’d had a few boyfriends when she’d left school, but it was always more of a grope and a hurried one at that. Lil had
watched her like a hawk even then. And seeing as her two brothers had died young men, Ethel had accepted Lil’s reasoning. She had one child left from three. She knew the pain her mum had gone
through.

‘I want you, Ethel, you know that, don’t you?’ Cal began to unbutton the top of her dress.

‘We can’t. Not here.’

‘Why not? It’s the perfect place.’

‘Someone might come in – and what about Frank?’

‘He can wait. He’ll have to.’ Cal slid the soft material from her shoulders. Ethel knew resisting was useless. Her insides were pulling together, as if they were calling out
for him. Her breasts were on fire.

She fumbled for his belt and loosened it as he kissed her. Neither of them heard the shop bell tinkle until it was too late.

‘Christ, who’s that?’ Cal demanded as in the midst of their fumbling a louder noise followed.

‘They must be nicking something!’ Ethel hissed, quickly pulling down her skirt.‘Stay here, I’ll see to it.’ Cal struggled with his clothing and then took a silent
step to the storeroom door.

Lizzie was talking to Flo, but her attention was on Walter Miller. He was talking to Syd and Clifford across the room. She couldn’t take her eyes off Walter’s arm
as it went up and down, conveying the glass of ale to his mouth. Below the cuff of his jacket he wore a wristwatch.

She’d seen the same watch many times over the years, its unmistakably large face splattered by potato dust, or carrot tops. A family heirloom that had never left Bill Flowers’s
possession. Not until he’d decided to give it to Frank.

‘Lizzie, are you listening to me?’ Flo shook her shoulder.

Lizzie nodded. ‘Yes, course.’ She knew Flo had been talking but her sister’s words weren’t registering.

‘You weren’t thinking about
him
, were you?’ It was an accusation. Lizzie saw the annoyance sparkle in Flo’s dark eyes. Flo had changed into a pretty pale blue
dress that she was going to wear for her honeymoon, two nights up West, bed and breakfast.

‘If you mean Frank, then no.’

‘Well, what’s your answer?’

Lizzie tried to wrench her eyes back to Flo but they kept straying over to the men. ‘About what?’

‘There, you see, you ain’t been listening. I was asking what name you liked best. It’s a toss-up between Kate after Ma if it’s a girl. Or Lillian after the
Missus.’

‘I didn’t know Lillian was the Missus’s name.’

‘Everyone will shorten it to Lil.’

‘What if it’s a boy?’

Flo smiled proudly. ‘Nelson Sydney after Syd’s grandad. I don’t fancy Walter or Clifford, the other names put forward.’

‘Flo, does Syd see much of Walter and Clifford these days?’

Flo looked puzzled as she stared at Lizzie. ‘That’s a funny question to ask now Syd works at the scrapyard.’

‘They seem to be getting on well,’ Lizzie said quickly. She couldn’t bring herself to ask outright where Walter had got the watch. Or could she? The fact Walter had
Bill’s watch on his wrist could only mean one thing. He’d taken it from Frank. And Frank hadn’t given it away. It had been stolen in the attack. Lizzie’s stomach did a roll
as she thought of the possibility that Walter and perhaps Clifford – even Syd, had been Frank’s attackers.

‘The Millers have been very good to us,’ Flo said defensively. ‘We haven’t gone short of a penny. But I can see on your face you disapprove of them.’

‘No, it’s not that.’

‘What is it then?’ Flo’s dark eyes narrowed.

Lizzie knew that it was pointless to voice her suspicions. Flo would get upset if she thought Syd was being criticized. And Walter and Clifford were now his best buddies. Flo wouldn’t hear
a bad word about the Millers. They were her family now and had gone from sinners to saints in Flo’s mind. But nothing could change the fact that the leather-strapped watch on Walter’s
wrist once belonged to Bill who had given it to Frank.

‘Come on, you two.’ Danny came to stand at Flo’s side. ‘Lil’s not got the patience of a saint as we all know.’

Flo looked across at Syd. ‘You’d better fetch me husband too.’

Lizzie wanted to tell Danny about the watch. But how could she with Flo listening?

Flo took Lizzie’s arm. ‘What was you going to say?’

‘Only that your honeymoon dress looks lovely.’

Flo grinned. ‘I can’t wait for our first night up West. It will be funny to do it legit as Mr and Mrs.’

Lizzie smiled. ‘No worrying about the neighbours now.’ She glanced back to Syd and his brothers. The only person she could confront about the watch was Syd. But after their last
meeting, their relationship had been strained. He’d blow his top if he thought she was accusing his brother of stealing.

All Ethel could see as she stepped into the shop was two figures rolling about in the wooden crates. Fruit and vegetables were flying everywhere. The man who Cal was throwing
punches at was dressed in a fawn overcoat. There were already stains over it where they had rolled in the spilled tomatoes and oranges.

Ethel jumped back as they fell towards her. The next thing she saw was a tangle of arms and legs bouncing against the glass cabinet. Lizzie’s neat rows of toffee apples fell from their
shelves. A splintering noise came from the glass but neither of the men stopped fighting. Punching and struggling, they landed on the sacks of King Edwards that Bert stood by the shop door.

Ethel wanted to help Cal somehow; the other man, who towered above him, lifted a wooden box and brought it down on Cal’s shoulder.

‘Leave him alone!’ Ethel shrieked and ran forward, pounding the man with her fists. Without even glancing at her, he pushed her aside. The blow sent her reeling and she ended up on
the floor.

Before she could get up, Cal landed a punch on the man’s nose, then another. The man fell to his knees, groaning loudly.

Wiping the blood from his mouth, Cal hurried over to her. He lifted her up gently. ‘Are you hurt, Ethel?’

‘No.’ She pushed her hair from her eyes. Her legs felt like buckling. ‘Who is he?’

‘I caught him with his fingers in the till.’

Ethel gave a little moan as she rubbed her sore head.

‘You sure he didn’t hurt you?’ Cal asked again as he took her shoulders.

‘N—’ ‘No,’ she had been about to say, but over his shoulder she saw a frightening sight. The man had recovered and was back on his feet. His fleshy round face was
full of anger and pain.

‘What the—’ Cal began as he turned round.

‘Think you’re a big man, eh?’ demanded the thief as he levelled the gun at them. ‘Well, let’s see how big you are when I pull this trigger.’

Ethel screamed. She knew there was no escape.

Cal pulled her behind him as a shot rang out. And Ethel slid to the floor.

The mantel clock in Lil’s front room said it was a quarter to five and there was no sign of Ethel. Lizzie was worried. Had Frank caused trouble somehow? Had he fallen and
Ethel been unable to pick him up? But Cal would have helped her. What if Ethel and Cal had decided to do some romancing on the way home? Where would they have gone? Back to the garage?

Lizzie tried to think. But the noise was deafening, what with the singing, dancing and merrymaking, something the Millers were expert at. Flo’s friends from work had already left, politely
making their excuses. It was clear the Miller clan had every intention of celebrating late into the night. The empty plates were piled up in the kitchen. Meanwhile the Missus had sent Clifford to
the pub off-sales for more beer. Lil and Doug had driven to the East India Dock Road to buy fish and chips for an army.

Just as Lizzie was wondering if she should slip out to look for Ethel, there was a tap on her shoulder.

‘Where’s Ethel and Cal got to?’ Danny asked, raising his voice above the racket.

‘Perhaps they’ve gone to the garage.’

‘No. Don’t reckon they would.’

Lizzie shrugged. ‘Then they must be at the shop.’

Danny’s face darkened. ‘It’s got to be Frank. What else could it be?’

Lizzie knew that she had to find Ethel. ‘I’d better go over there.’

‘I’ll drive you,’ Danny said abruptly. ‘Where are the kids?’

‘They were making a racket and Lil sent them up the park. I was going to fetch them before Flo and Syd left.’

Danny nodded. ‘We’ll tell Timothy and Rosie to do that.’