The Fight for Lizzie Flowers (40 page)

Syd’s skin was the colour of parchment and his hands were shaking as he made the tea. Even though they were not on good terms and hadn’t spoken properly since the
day of Richard’s funeral, Lizzie couldn’t help but feel sorry for him.

‘Shall I do that?’ she asked softly.

‘No, I’m better on the move.’

‘Syd, I know we haven’t seen eye to eye lately but—’

He looked up quickly and his face flushed. Tears filled his eyes and he sank down at the table, dropping his head to his hands.

Lizzie sat down too, waiting for him to speak. When he didn’t she asked quietly, ‘Syd, something’s wrong, isn’t it?’

Her brother-in-law nodded. ‘I – I done something bad. Very bad.’

‘Do you want to tell me what it is?’ Lizzie stared at the top of Syd’s bowed head. Why wouldn’t he look at her?

‘Everything started to go wrong when – when – Walter took Frank’s watch.’

‘What?’ Lizzie felt the breath knocked out of her. ‘It’s true then? You and Walter did beat Frank up.’

‘No, it wasn’t me,’ insisted Syd mournfully. ‘It was Walter and Clifford. I tried to stop them, but they just laid in to Frank. I didn’t even know Walter took the
watch till you pointed it out.’

‘But why?’ Lizzie demanded. ‘Frank didn’t do anything to harm them or hurt your family.’

‘I asked for their help. I wanted to frighten Frank off so he wouldn’t come sniffing around again. But Walter and Clifford, well, they just went berserk.’

‘They almost killed him,’ Lizzie said angrily. ‘How could you let them?’

Syd gave a smothered sob. ‘I tried to pull them off, but I couldn’t. I just wanted to help you, but it all went wrong.’

‘I told you I would take care of things in my own way. It wasn’t up to you to get involved with my affairs.’

‘I know. And I should have listened.’

Lizzie shook her head in despair. ‘Why didn’t you?’

‘It’s down to a bloke to provide for his family,’ Syd said in a bewildered voice. ‘And there was me. I couldn’t give Flo a nice house, or nice things. I
couldn’t even drive a car.’

‘No one is blaming you for that.’

‘I blamed myself. I was just a fish porter.’

‘Oh stop it, Syd. You had a good job and you could have done very well if you’d stuck to it.’

‘Walter said fish portering was a waste of time. If I went into the scrapyard they’d teach me to drive and I’d soon be earning big money.’ He gulped. ‘And I
am.’

‘Yes, and has it made you happy?’

Syd shook his head silently.

‘You don’t want to go to prison, do you?’

‘No, course not.’

‘If the law had followed up Frank’s case properly, all three of you could have been charged with attempted murder.’

Syd gave a low howl of pain. Once more he held his head in his hands.

‘Does Flo know what your brothers did?’ Lizzie demanded, though she was dreading his answer. She wouldn’t like to think that Flo had known about the beating, even agreed to
it.

‘No,’ Syd said heavily. ‘She hates Frank, but she’d never go along with what Walter and Clifford did.’

‘So why did you lie to me about the watch?’

He shrugged, his slumped shoulders making him look a beaten man. ‘I was ashamed. I knew Flo would go bananas if she found out. She didn’t want me to chuck in my job, but I convinced
her we needed the money. I’ve made a big mistake there. Walter and Clifford don’t have no scruples and are mixing with very dubious types up in Soho. I don’t like what I hear and
see when I’m around them. But I can’t turn the clock back now.’

‘So what are you going to do?’

‘Dunno.’ Syd stared bleakly into her eyes. ‘But I do know I’ll never let you down again.’

‘No you won’t,’ Lizzie agreed firmly, ‘because if your brothers ever wrong-foot Flo in any way, I shall hold you personally responsible. Everyone makes mistakes and you
deserve a second chance. You’re a good man at heart. You stood by Flo and me through those troubled years and I’m grateful for it. But you’ve put yourself in a bad position and
it’s up to you to think of a way out of it.’

‘I will. I promise.’ Syd nodded, but Lizzie could see the fear in his eyes. Though he was a loyal husband and good son to the Missus, he was weak when it came to his brothers. Walter
and Clifford were dangerous and, reading the expression on Syd’s face, she knew that he was thinking the same.

Just then they heard a cry from upstairs. Syd shot to his feet and chased out of the kitchen. They both ran up the stairs and, when they entered the bedroom, Flo was sitting on the edge of the
bed. ‘Me waters have broken,’ she gasped, staring down at her wet nightdress.

‘Is it the baby this time?’ Syd breathed, standing stock still.

Flo nodded, clutching her stomach.

Lizzie hurried to her sister and, after removing the nightdress as Flo fought the pains that were coming hard and strong, she shouted over her shoulder to Syd.

‘There’s a nurse who lives in March Street. Mabel Cranfield her name is, I think. Mum used to know her and she helped a lot of women round here. Go through the alley to No. 54 at the
end of the terrace.’

There was no reply, just a crash of the door downstairs and the sound of Syd’s running footsteps through the open window.

Nelson Sydney Miller arrived in the world just thirty minutes later, slipping out from between his mother’s legs into Lizzie’s hands with an effortless cry. The
little boy was not so little, Lizzie saw delightedly, as she wiped the blood and mucus from his well-formed limbs and wrapped him in a towel.

‘You were right, love,’ Lizzie said as, after hugging the baby to herself for a few precious seconds, she laid him gently in Flo’s arms. ‘He’s perfect. And
I’ll bet he’s no less than a ten-pounder.’

Flo clasped the bundle to her breast, tears of joy escaping down her cheeks. ‘My baby, my beautiful son,’ she whispered over and over again.

Just then the baby opened his dark eyes and let out a yell at the same time as Syd entered the room. Close behind him, Lizzie saw a plump young woman wearing a blue uniform, carrying with her a
small brown case.

‘I’m Nurse Edith Cranfield.’ The nurse introduced herself breathlessly. ‘Not a midwife, although I’ve done my training of course. Mrs Miller, your husband says
you’ve had pains all night?’

Flo nodded, then smiled up at Syd. ‘It’s a boy, love. Nelson Sydney Miller. Just like we planned.’

Syd stepped slowly forward, his mouth hanging open. Lizzie slid her finger from the infant’s grasp, a strong, healthy grip together with a scream to match.

‘Well, we’ll leave you and your son for a couple of minutes,’ the nurse said, sounding a little put out. ‘But I must see to the cord. Your husband will have plenty of
time with the baby when you’re tidied up.’ Catching hold of Lizzie’s arm, the nurse ushered her out onto the landing.

‘From what Mr Miller tells me, his wife started labour yesterday,’ she said in an offended whisper. ‘Isn’t she booked in with Dr Shaw at the maternity ward of Poplar
Hospital?’

Lizzie shrugged. ‘You’ll have to ask my sister about that.’

‘Your sister?’

‘I’m Lizzie Allen, but you’re not Mabel Cranfield, are you?’

‘She was my aunt.’

Lizzie could see the resemblance. Edith was a smaller, younger version of Mabel. ‘We – that is, the Allens – used to live in this house and I remembered a nurse living in March
Street. So I sent Syd round to see if she was still there.’

‘My aunt wasn’t a real nurse, you know.’ Nurse Edith Cranfield frowned as she folded her hands under her ample bosom. ‘No, no, not at all.’

‘I didn’t know,’ Lizzie admitted. ‘But she did help a lot of people.’

‘She would be very old by now, if she had lived. I’m one of her many nieces and my husband and I took over the house after she died. Auntie was a bit of an eccentric. But I have to
admit, she did help many babies into this world, though her practices would be very frowned on now and, I assure you, we do things very differently these days.’ She paused, looking Lizzie up
and down. ‘Have you had any formal nursing training?’

Lizzie shook her head.

‘I see. Mr Miller told me his wife had problems during her pregnancy. In fact she almost miscarried.’

‘Yes, that’s true.’

Nurse Cranfield eyed Lizzie with suspicion. ‘The couple have a car, so he could have driven his wife to the hospital when she first started having contractions. Any complications that
might have arisen could have been avoided.’

Lizzie just smiled. Tell that to my sister, she thought.

‘Well, no time to lose.’ The nurse pulled back her shoulders. ‘If we have to ask the doctor to visit I’m sure Mrs Miller wouldn’t object to that!’

‘I’m sure she wouldn’t,’ Lizzie agreed, hiding her amusement.

The nurse sighed and glanced back into the bedroom. She gave Lizzie a little shove towards the stairs. ‘Now, be a dear and fetch me some boiled water, clean towels and sheets.’

As Lizzie hurried off to the kitchen, she thought of Flo’s prediction, that Nelson Sydney would be born safely and into Lizzie’s own hands. A dream or a visitation, it had certainly
come to pass.

Much to Lizzie’s own surprise.

Lizzie rolled up the waste in the newspaper and placed it in the bin outside. Returning to the kitchen she washed the china cups that just before Nurse Cranfield had left she
had filled with hot, sweet tea, to celebrate Nelson’s arrival. With her business concluded, the nurse had promised to call early the next morning, bringing the midwife and doctor with
her.

Relieved that all major decisions were now being taken by those who knew best, Lizzie returned the china to the cupboard. The stew she had prepared was cooking on the stove and the house was
quiet. Lizzie glanced around the kitchen, satisfied all was in order. She couldn’t wait to go home and tell Polly she had a new cousin. Syd, the proud father, was eager to let the Missus
know, but Flo had been reluctant to have visitors just yet.

With a sense of exhausted relief, Lizzie gazed out of the kitchen window to Flo’s and Lil’s back yards. Lil’s washing was drying in the bright September sunshine, a clothes
prop in the middle where the tails of Doug’s shirts flapped in the breeze. Very soon, mused Lizzie, there would be rows of fluffy white nappies pegged to Flo’s line and Lil and Flo
would join each other at the fence, indulging in a few moments’ peace as the baby slept in the pram.

Lizzie’s thoughts inevitably drifted to Ethel. Her friend had moved to her mother-in-law’s in Lewisham, so Bert had said after his visit to Danny’s last week. Not that
he’d found Danny very talkative, but more distressed at Cal’s imminent departure from Tilbury to Australia. Cal had recovered now from his ordeal at the hostelry, but had given up hope
of a future with Ethel. Lizzie knew that Danny would be very sorry to see his close friend leave for such distant shores.

A soft rumble met Lizzie’s ears and, following it, she found Syd in the front room, sprawled out on the armchair, snoring loudly. She smiled at the prone figure. His sleepless night and
the excitement of the day were catching up with him.

Quietly, Lizzie went upstairs. She fully expected Flo to be sleeping too as Nelson had been fed before Nurse Cranfield had left. But Flo was sitting up, her dark hair drawn behind her ears and
her eyes fixed wistfully on the crib beside the bed. Flo beckoned her and Lizzie tiptoed in, to sit in contented silence, gazing at the new arrival: a chubby pink face, ebony half-moon eyelashes
and a head full of dark fluff. Miniature fists peeping out from a white-knitted shawl.

‘Ain’t he handsome,’ Flo whispered. ‘A real boy.’

‘Just as Ma said,’ Lizzie replied softly.

‘Now do you believe it wasn’t a dream?’

Lizzie nodded, but so much had happened that she didn’t really know what to think. What was important was that the baby had arrived safely in this world.

‘Talking of which, where is Syd?’

‘Taking a cat-nap downstairs.’

Flo chuckled. ‘Poor sod didn’t get much sleep last night.’

‘And he won’t tonight. Not if Nelson has anything to do with it.’

‘Lizzie,’ Flo said quietly, ‘I don’t know what I’d have done without you.’

‘Just don’t ask me to deliver the next one.’

‘Sorry, gel.’ Flo looked down. ‘I shouldn’t have sprung that on you like I did. You’ve had enough on your plate without me to worry about.’ Flo’s eyes
suddenly had a mischievous glint. ‘Can’t wait to tell Nelson when he’s old enough that it was his Auntie Lizzie who brought him into this world, the same auntie who faced up to a
rotten crook who got his just deserts at the bottom of a well.’

‘Shh!’ Lizzie put her finger to her mouth. ‘I promised Murphy I’d never repeat to anyone what happened at the inn.’

Flo pouted. ‘I can keep a secret. Do you think Murphy left Leonard Savage in the well?’

Lizzie shivered at the thought. ‘I haven’t asked him.’

‘Have you seen him, then?’ Flo’s eyebrows shot up.

‘Who, Murphy?’ Lizzie shrugged. ‘He’s called by the shop a few times.’

Flo’s mouth opened on an indrawn breath. ‘Oh, I see!’

‘No you don’t. He was just seeing we was all right, that’s all.’

‘If you say so.’

Lizzie sat up straight, eager to change the subject. ‘Flo, all I want now is to forget the past and for us to get on with our lives.’

‘Does that mean you’re ready to move in with Danny?’

‘It means,’ said Lizzie firmly, determined to avoid any more leading questions, ‘that I’m going to open Mr James’s old shop as a cooperative for women.’

Flo’s frown deepened. ‘A cooperative?’

‘A shop where women can bring their goods and put them on sale. We’ll take a percentage, or buy from them immediately if they’re hard up.’

‘No one does that around here.’

‘Well, I’m going to.’

‘You might lose a lot of money.’

Lizzie nodded. ‘Or I could make us all some too.’

‘But what about your love life?’ replied Flo reproachfully, unwilling to be sidetracked. ‘You could lose Danny if you’re not careful. According to Polly, he’s well
in with his landlady, Mrs Williams.’