Lily of Love Lane (20 page)

Read Lily of Love Lane Online

Authors: Carol Rivers

BOOK: Lily of Love Lane
7.76Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

‘It was very generous of you to buy the clock.’

‘That’s because I shall make a lot more profit on it than you when it’s restored and sold to my client,’ he grinned and they both laughed together.

‘The reason I haven’t returned to see you,’ he said after a while, ‘is because I’ve been travelling abroad.’

Lily felt so happy that she could jump for joy. The reason he hadn’t come to see her was because he had been away. Not because he had no use for her or didn’t want to see her
again.

‘You see, I had something important to ask you on the day I came here. Unfortunately, due to the pressure of business I was unable to call again until now.’

Lily was so excited she almost didn’t feel a tap on her shoulder.

‘Ere, gel, whose are these choppers?’ demanded an elderly man as he examined the false teeth. ‘Do they work?’

Lily shrugged. Why wouldn’t everyone go away and let her talk to Charles?

‘You got another pair over there. What’s the bite on ’em like?’

As the man shuffled round the stall to examine them, Charles drew her to one side. ‘We can’t talk here, Lily. Would you come to my house? What I have to say may be of great interest
to you.’

Was he going to ask her to help him buy articles again? ‘When?’ she asked eagerly.

‘Sunday morning perhaps?’

‘Yes, that will be fine.’

‘I’ll come to collect you.’

She didn’t know what her parents would say. ‘It would be better if I could meet you at the top of Westferry Road as we did before.’

He looked at her with a frown. ‘As you wish, Lily. And the time?’

She intended to be out of the house early as she didn’t want anyone or anything to stop her from seeing Charles.

‘Is nine o’clock too early?’

‘Not at all.’

Suddenly a hand appeared in front of her clutching a pair of false teeth. ‘I’ll take ’em!’ cried the elderly man. ‘They’re a bit loose, but I’ll boil
’em up and shrink ’em.’

Lily turned and wrapped the teeth in newspaper. When she had put the money in the tin, she looked back for Charles. But he’d gone.

All afternoon she couldn’t stop thinking about him. She wouldn’t tell anyone she was going to see him as she was determined that this time she wouldn’t let others’
opinions influence her. As Uncle Noah had told her, she was old enough now, to know her own mind.

Lily was waiting on the corner of Westferry Road bright and early the next morning. She had hardly slept a wink, waiting for this moment to come. She had left early, telling
Uncle Noah, who was the only one up, she was going for a walk. She didn’t want to lie, but it was only a small one. She couldn’t wait to see Charles and discover what it was he was
going to ask her.

At nine o’clock on the dot, the ruby red car pulled alongside the curb. Charles jumped out and came round to open the door. Lily had nothing new to wear, but she had bought a beret from
Vera Froud last night, a pretty Tam o’Shanter style in a light fawn colour. On her collar she wore Hattie’s rabbit foot to bring her good luck.

‘I hope this isn’t an inconvenience, Lily,’ Charles said as he drove them along.

‘No. Now the weather’s better I often go for a stroll.’

‘Does your friend accompany you?’

‘Hattie? Sometimes in the afternoon. If her brother isn’t well though, she stays in to help.’

‘Ah yes. This is the young man who you told me was gassed in the war.’

Lily nodded. He had remembered so much of their conversations. She felt elated. Their meetings must have mattered to him, if only in a small way.

‘Is there any hope of his recovery?’ he asked after a while.

‘No one knows. The fits seem to come on after the nightmares that he still has.’

Charles nodded slowly. ‘I had many friends who died in action, and some of those who survived are still haunted as Hattie’s brother is. The memory of the conflict is hard to bear,
though I hear that medical science is discovering new treatments all the time. There are certain institutions that deal effectively with such cases like an officer friend of mine who has had some
success with his health.’

Lily shook her head. ‘Mr and Mrs Parks couldn’t afford to send him to such a place. And anyway, I don’t think Mrs Parks would let him go.’

‘And that is to be commended of course. But it must be a strain on the family.’

‘They’re used to it now. Every island family lost someone in the war or had someone injured. Like Mr James, Ben and Reube’s father who never came back from France.’

‘Was he a market trader too before enlisting?’

‘Yes. A family friend looked after the stall until Reube was old enough to run it.’

Charles nodded slowly. ‘Your island families are remarkable indeed.’

Lily sat quietly, his interest in the island impressed her. Although he was, as Uncle Noah had pointed out, an outsider, his concern seemed genuine. Even though he couldn’t understand true
poverty, she was sure he didn’t look down on them.

At last they came to Dewar Street and Lily’s heart leapt at the sight of the terraced houses. Number four was exactly as she remembered, a tall, slim building with long windows and black
railings outside. The white steps led up to a grand front door with a brass lion’s head knocker. Her heart banged fiercely against her ribs. She had thought she would never see this place
again!

But Lily was disappointed when they went in. The house looked even emptier and was dark and cold. On her previous visit it had seemed a little neglected, but now all the drapes were half closed
and darkness filled the hall. She couldn’t even see the aspidistra at the bottom of the stairs.

‘I’m afraid I’ve had no time to light a fire,’ Charles said as he escorted her into the drawing room. ‘I breakfasted rather late. Please sit down, Lily.’

She chose one of the silk-covered chairs by the window. Charles drew the heavy green curtains wide apart failing to secure them with the tassels as he removed his heavy coat at the same time. He
disappeared from the room one moment and was back the next. Lily looked for the young maid, but she didn’t appear.

‘I shall make tea,’ Charles said, as he looked around him. ‘Although I’m not quite certain if I can offer you milk.’

‘I’m not thirsty,’ Lily replied, feeling more awkward by the moment. ‘Please don’t trouble.’

‘Lily, you must forgive this disorder,’ he gestured to the table that had once had a polished surface covered in dust. Now it supported a large dirty plate with the remains of food,
a knife and fork, and cup and saucer. Beyond, the fireplace held ashes which had spilled out of the grate. Gone was the decorative fan and scattered over the carpet were a large number of
newspapers and periodicals.

Lily looked at the general disarray. On her previous visit, the house had at least looked clean and tidy. Now it felt abandoned. Was it because he had been away? She looked on the walls for the
painting they had bought at Petticoat Lane. Could it be in another room? The statuettes and rug were also missing, but perhaps he had chosen not to put them in here?

Her heart sank. Had the purchases not been to his liking after all? Lily was dismayed and confused, she couldn’t imagine what he would want to ask her?

‘May I take your coat?’ He was not sitting down but pacing uneasily from window to window.

‘No, thank you. I . . . I can’t stay very long.’ She felt like an intruder.

He suddenly stopped. ‘Lily, you must have wondered why I came to the market that day and failed to return? I told you I have been travelling . . .’

She nodded as he began to pace again.

‘Before I left England a problem arose. It was very upsetting and I had urgent need of – of specific help. That was why I came to see you.’

Lily was mystified. Other than helping him to buy things for the house, how could she help him?

‘You see,’ he went on hesitantly, ‘my young assistant, Annie, was . . . er . . . called away, that is to say, she was . . .’ He stopped, turning to look at Lily, then
suddenly he collapsed into a chair close beside her. Drawing his hand over his face, he gave out a long sigh as though he couldn’t bear to continue.

‘Are you feeling well?’ Lily asked. She was beginning to think it was a mistake to have come here on her own. Doubts began to flood into her mind as she looked into his unhappy
face.

He slowly met her gaze. ‘I cannot deceive you, Lily. I must tell you the whole truth. It is still very difficult, I’m afraid, for me to talk about my late wife.’

Lily felt a sudden relief. His unhappiness was connected with his wife! She sat back a little, waiting, as he composed himself.

‘You see, Annie was . . .’ he shook his head sadly, ‘was not the honest young woman we thought she was. She came to assist my wife shortly before she died of consumption. It
was a sad time as you may imagine.’

Lily nodded silently. He had suffered greatly and her heart went out to him again.

‘Delia was the kindest of souls and being delicate, the girl became her confidante and nurse – everything!’ He lifted his hands slowly as though tormented by memories.
‘After Delia’s death, I began to find things disappearing. Small things at first – there were many trinkets still left from my wife’s possessions – then money. I
confess to leaving coins in places they should not be. But I’m lazy as you can see,’ he gestured to the dirty china on the table, ‘and after a good cigar and glass of port at
night, or perhaps a game of cards with a friend . . .’ He frowned at her. ‘Do I make myself clear, Lily?’

‘You mean, Annie stole from you?’

‘I’m afraid so.’ He sighed heavily again. ‘One day I left a small brooch that I had bought from an auction house in the chiffonier in the bathroom. There is an empty
drawer there and I thought perhaps I would make some use of it. When I went to retrieve it, the brooch had gone.’

‘And Annie took it?’

‘There was no one else in the house at that time.’

‘Did you confront her?’

He nodded. ‘I did. The very next day she disappeared. Her room was empty, her belongings gone. There was no note. And so I must assume the girl was guilty and fled before I pressed more
questions.’ He cleared his throat. ‘If she had given me a good reason for the theft, I would have made allowances.’

Lily shook her head. ‘I don’t know if there is a good reason for stealing.’

He shrugged. ‘Who knows.’

Lily looked at his handsome face and the slight growth of dark stubble on his chin and jaw. His hair, she noticed, was not in its usual style, but had fallen across his forehead. ‘Why did
you think I could help?’ she asked uncertainly.

He sat back, his eyes intent on her. ‘Lily, my profession demands a high degree of discretion. You see, I entertain many of my clients here. Our business is conducted, as many lucrative
ventures are, within the comfort and security of four walls. Some of the merchandise is very valuable. My clients come to me in the strictest of confidence. Much of what I sell is transported
abroad. Gems, for instance, to the United States. Paintings too, and very often gold in one form or another. So you see, it was not the value of what Annie took that distressed me, it was the fact
she might have been indiscreet or even . . . unaware of just how much I rely on complete honesty within my business. Now I have explained, do you have some idea of what I am about to ask
you?’

Lily shook her head slowly. ‘No, I don’t.’

He smiled. ‘Lily, I’ve come to know you as an honest and hard-working young woman. You have all the qualities I admire; a good head for business, excellent taste and a charming and
attractive disposition. I would consider it an honour if you would come to work for me. I must fill Annie’s position and there is no one I could think of more suited to it than
you.’

Lily didn’t say a word. Was he really asking her to work for him?

‘Your duties would include managing the household,’ Charles went on. ‘I shall employ a scullery maid to light the fires and clean. I am away frequently and have no time to
organize all this. As you know, I have often remarked this house needs a woman’s influence.’ He paused, smiling hopefully at her once more. ‘Annie’s rooms, which would be
yours, command a wonderful view over London and are comfortable, with their own toilet facilities. Perhaps we could come to an arrangement by which you took leave to see your family at the
weekends?’

‘You mean I would be expected to live here?’ Lily almost gasped.

‘It would be very tiring for you to travel each day and at night. Sometimes I would ask you to act as hostess at my business meetings of an evening – some of which can end quite
late.’

‘But I wouldn’t know how to do that,’ Lily said, her imagination unable to stretch that far. She didn’t have any idea of entertaining, or how things should be done in the
proper way.

‘I will teach you.’

‘But even if . . . if I wanted to, I’ve got a job already.’

‘Of course, and I am well aware of this. But after the conversation with your family I am also aware that you have been the breadwinner for some time. I am prepared to offer you a generous
wage, Lily, of five guineas a week, with a commission on the business that you can arrange for me.’

‘Five guineas,’ Lily whispered. It was a fortune. Almost three times as much as she was earning with Reube.

‘You will have the weekends free to see your family and friends, take your outings with Hattie. I shall be most happy to provide the transport to anywhere you should wish to go.’

Lily could only sit there. It was her dream come true. Yet, how could she agree to it?

‘I couldn’t let Reube down.’

‘He would find someone else. This other man who helps . . .?’

‘Pedro,’ Lily said uncertainly.

‘Quite. Or if not him, I am sure there are others. And Lily it was you yourself who told me that you had no intention to work at the market for ever. A family you said, ultimately you
would like a family of your own. So would it not be in your own interest to better yourself and invest in the future? Perhaps save a little money and prepare to make your dream come
true?’

Lily felt her heart flutter as he painted the picture, his dark eyes glimmering as he talked and she began to imagine herself being here in this lovely house. But could it really happen? What
would her family say? She would be expected to move away from home. Her mother wouldn’t like that idea, nor her father. And Hattie would probably never speak to her again.

Other books

Extrasensory by Desiree Holt
Escape from Saigon by Andrea Warren
Desert Devil by Rena McKay
Witch Hunt by Ian Rankin
Sweet Tooth by Ian McEwan
By Hook or By Crook by Linda Morris