Lily of Love Lane (4 page)

‘You said she wanted to go to his house with you. That’s the same thing, ain’t it?’

‘I wish I hadn’t mentioned it now.’

Reube sighed loudly. ‘Do you realize you get the hump when anyone tries to get off with her.’

‘I never do!’ Ben slipped off his suit jacket and cast it aside.

‘See? You’ve got the hump now.’

‘No, I haven’t.’

‘You never chuck your stuff about like that. You always put your jacket straight on a hanger and hang it in the wardrobe. Drive me nuts you do, being so fussy.’

After dragging a woollen jumper over his head, Ben threw a pillow at his brother. ‘Don’t think you can insult me just because you’re at a disadvantage.’

‘Only me body is, me mind is firing on more cylinders than a number fifty-six bus. Can’t help it if I’m the brains of this outfit.’

‘You’d better shut up or I’ll twist your toes,’ Ben was quick to respond, attempting to deflect the interrogation about Lily. He did his best to act the local Romeo and
this fooled most people who thought of him as the island’s likely lad. But Reube knew him well and it was difficult to keep his intimate thoughts and feelings private. He had always told
himself he believed in safety in numbers and if he wanted to build up his transport business, as a single man he was free of responsibility. Lily was his friend and she could take a joke; insulting
one another was a way of life. It was how East Enders managed the ups and downs of everyday life. And there had been plenty of those whilst growing up on the island. Their six-year age gap meant he
had spent most of his teenage years kicking a ball around with her. She was like his kid sister, his partner in grime as they used to say. He felt protective of her, but no more than he did for
Hattie. They always teased him about being a Romeo. They knew he had no intention of settling down, not until he’d made his fortune. Which was coming by way of a classy looking charabanc he
had seen for sale up Aldgate. He could fit thirty passengers in at a time. The perfect vehicle for club outings, weddings and the occasional funeral if they didn’t mind the colour beige.

‘It’s a wonder there ain’t a string of blokes outside her door,’ his brother was saying.

Ben frowned, tuning back into the present. ‘Whose door?’

‘Lily’s, of course.’

‘She’s only a kid.’

‘In case you ain’t noticed, Valentino, she’s all grown up now.’

‘What are you talking about, you daft prune?’

‘I’m talking about the girl who is right under your nose, yet you don’t seem to see her. There’s all manner of women out there that you flirt with and right old boilers
some of them. But Lily is in a class of her own. She’s got manners and good taste, which is probably why she can’t see you, either.’

‘Here, watch it, matey! I’ve got taste and I know me p’s and q’s. Anyway, I don’t think of Lil like that. She’s like me little skin and blister, sort
of.’

Reube smiled knowingly. ‘You take my advice and put a ring on her finger.’

‘Aw, shut that big gob of yours and concentrate on your paper. Ignorant blokes like you need to learn a bit about what’s going on in the world.’

‘I know enough,’ Reube sniffed. ‘More than you think.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘You can’t fool me, Ben James. You’re—’ Reube went to sit up and yelled in pain. ‘Bloody Norah, me foot!’

‘I thought it was your ankle.’

‘I tell you what, wring that rag out, bruv, and shove another wet one on it, would you? In fact, better go down and bring up a bowl of cold water.’

‘Yes, m’lord, anything else, your highness,’ Ben muttered, whipping off the cloth and making his brother yell out again.

‘That hurt!’

‘All right, all right. I’ll be back in a minute. Lay back and think of England.’

Ben went downstairs where his widowed mother Betty and her old friend, Pedro Williams, had just finished a game of backgammon and were now playing gin rummy. Pedro was so called because of his
little black moustache that curled up at the ends.

In the scullery, Ben rinsed the rag under the tap. He liked Pedro who had run their dad’s stall when Ben and Reube had lost their dad in 1916 until Reube was old enough to take over.

The water was freezing as it filled the bowl. Ben was deep in thought once more, wondering about Charles Grey and why he disliked him. He didn’t even know the man. But the more Ben thought
about him, the less he found to like.

On his way back upstairs, his mother shouted, ‘How’s the patient?’

‘Still clinging to life,’ Ben replied.

‘I heard voices outside, you know.’

‘The Angel Gabriel calling from heaven, I ’spect.’

His mother appeared at the parlour door, her dark brown hair was hidden under a furry type of hat that resembled a deceased animal. She wore the hat winter and summer alike, pleating her two
heavy eyebrows underneath it. ‘I pulled back the curtain,’ she told him, ‘and saw Lil and Hattie. Strikes me they was having a good old laugh about something.’

‘Well, even if it’s the Aga Khan come to pay her a call with five hundred of his camels and a wagonload of dates, that ain’t our business anyway.’

His mother blinked at him through the spindles of the banister. ‘What’s up with you, son?’

‘Nothing.’

‘I was only saying, ducks. You don’t have to bite me head off.’

Ben was immediately contrite. ‘Sorry, I’m just a bit done in, that’s all.’

‘Have an early night, dear. Your brother needs one too if he’s to rest that ankle.’

He muttered something inaudible and went on his way. Now he was certain to get another quizzing from Reube who must have overheard all that. You couldn’t bloody well take a leak in this
neighbourhood without someone knowing.

As he entered the bedroom, he shouted at his brother, ‘And don’t you start or you’ll get this lot over you.’

‘I never breathed a word,’ Reube said innocently.

But Ben knew what his brother was thinking, it was written all over his face.

‘And by the way,’ Ben said quickly, ‘Lily asked me to ask you if she could work Saturday afternoons.’

‘Why?’

‘Her dad’s out of work again.’

‘Charming, ain’t it? The bloke is only trying to do an honest day’s toil for an honest day’s pay.’

‘Like hundreds of others on the island,’ Ben nodded. ‘He’s even considering a skin boat.’

Reube shuddered vigorously. ‘He’s gotta be desperate then.’

‘So what shall I tell her?’

‘If she wants the hours she can have them,’ Reube shrugged. ‘Pedro offered to come and give me a hand whilst I got me limp, but he don’t need the money like
Lil.’

‘I’ll tell her yes then, when I see her on Sunday.
If
I see her on Sunday.’

‘Ain’t you gonna take her then?’

‘Don’t know, do I?’

Reube smiled as he shook out the newspaper and raised it. ‘Don’t worry, bruv, Charlie boy will be a five-minute wonder.’

But Ben wasn’t so sure. Lily seemed to have taken a shine to the man or she wouldn’t have asked to go with him. And he couldn’t think of any way he’d be able to stop
her.

Lily was up early on Sunday morning. She wanted to look nice today. Ben had arrived to mend the latch and was now sharing a pot of tea with her mum and dad. Lily had put on her
best beige tweed coat with a dropped waistline and exchanged her blue cloche hat for a brown one with a black petersham band above the small brim. Did she look smart enough, or had she overdressed?
Then she remembered how nice Hattie had looked. Every once in a while it was good to dress up. She always had to wear warm clothes for the market and her boots. Now she could put on her bar strap
shoes, ones she’d had for years, and the only other pair she possessed.

Ten minutes later, Ben was helping Lily into the lorry. He had put a sack over the seat to keep her clothes clean.

Lily smiled as she made herself comfortable. ‘I feel like Lady Muck sitting up here.’

He grinned. ‘You wait till you see me new motor.’

‘What sort is it? Another lorry?’

‘Not on your Nellie. It’s a charabanc.’

‘One of those things that are a cross between a car and a bus?’

‘That’s right.’

‘A lot of people sit in it, don’t they?’

‘Yeah, this one’s got thirty seats. I’m going to take out groups: women’s institutes, the girl guides, the football and billiards clubs, anyone who wants to hire
me,’ he told her as he drove.

She had to shout as the engine was noisy. ‘Will you wear a uniform?’

He nodded. ‘A proper chauffeur’s outfit with leather boots and a flat cap.’

‘Where are you going to park such a big thing?’

‘Ernie Roper, the landlord of the Quarry says I can use his yard. He can get me a bit of business from the customers too.’

‘Well, don’t let them Blackshirts see it. I heard they bashed someone’s windscreen out up Hyde Park.’

‘Just let ’em try,’ said Ben, squeezing the horn as a horse and cart blocked the way. The cart stopped and Ben drove round it, yelling out a thank you from the open window.

‘Well, I wish you luck, you deserve it.’ Lily suddenly remembered that Ben was going to ask about Saturdays. ‘How is Reube’s ankle?’

‘Oh, on the mend.’

‘Did you ask him about me working on Saturday afternoons?’

‘Course I did and he said you’re welcome.’

Lily sighed softly. ‘That’s a relief. I’ll start next week if that’s all right.’

‘Do you need any money till then?’

Lily blushed. Ben and Reube were always generous, but she didn’t want to have to ask for help, as she had done so before Christmas. She’d paid back the small loan, but it had left
her short even though she had got her wages yesterday, most of which she’d given to her mum. ‘No, that’s all right, thanks.’ She peered through the dirty windscreen and
changed the subject. ‘Do you know where to go?’

‘Course I do. Dewar Street.’

‘Is the plant in the back?’

‘Yes, in the pot.’

‘It won’t slide about and break, will it?’

‘No, I’ve wedged it in with some bricks.’

‘I hope he likes it.’ Lily felt quite nervous. She wondered what advice he would want from her. And could she give it?

‘Sit back and relax,’ Ben told her. ‘It’s only a broken po!’

But to Lily it was more than that. She had butterflies in her tummy and she was very apprehensive, now that she’d come here, wondering what she’d say to Charles Grey. And what if he
didn’t even remember her?

F
our Dewar Street had a tall front door and long, Georgian windows. It was the second house of a terrace that stretched behind the High Street.

‘I’ll knock, shall I?’ Lily hesitated as they stood outside on the white steps.

‘He won’t know we’re here by guesswork,’ Ben grinned.

Lily stepped up to the big lion’s head knocker and rapped. Very soon a young girl appeared. She was dressed in a long black skirt and white apron. ‘Oh, it’s the
delivery,’ she said, frowning at the plant.

Ben nodded. ‘You’re not going to tell us to go to the tradesman’s entrance, I hope.’

‘No, ’cos we ain’t got one. Anyway, you’re expected. Come in.’

Lily stepped inside with Ben. To her surprise, the house was much larger than it looked from the road. Past the big, dark hall was a staircase winding up to the next floor. A rather worn carpet
led to all the rooms. There was no furniture in the hall except a large umbrella stand.

‘Follow me,’ said the girl, leading the way through a set of large wooden double doors. As they entered the room, Lily saw a very grand fireplace, the mantelpiece of which was the
same height as her, deep green drapes hung either side of it. Sadly there was no fire alight in the big hearth, instead there stood a large oriental fan, opened to its fullest extent. Scattered
around the room were upholstered armchairs. Lily recognised the material as watered silk. They had sold some last year from the stall, though they were not nearly as nice as these. Either side of
the four long windows were heavy brocade curtains, complete with silk tassels.

‘Crikey,’ muttered Ben beside her, ‘this is a sight for sore eyes, ain’t it?’

‘Beautiful,’ Lily agreed, her eyes wide as she gazed around.

‘Mr Grey will be with you in a minute. He said make yerselves comfortable.’

When the girl had gone, Lily looked round again. ‘I didn’t know there was places like this around here.’ She walked to the window and looked out through the dirty panes of
glass. She could see the road beneath and over the wall on the other side of the road, the backs of other houses. Some of the yards had small gardens and squares of grass, unheard of on the
island.

‘Not a bad lookout, is it?’ Ben said as he came to stand beside her. ‘But they need their windows cleaning.’

‘You can still see the top of the Queen’s.’

As a child, Lily had come up to Poplar with Uncle Noah on the rag and bone cart. They had often passed the theatre in the High Street. On Friday night, anyone could do a turn, enjoy the audience
applause and become famous for five minutes. The Queen’s always held an air of excitement about it. On her fourteenth birthday, she had been treated to a night out at a musical revue. Her mum
and dad and Uncle Noah had bought threepenny tickets for the ‘gods’. That night she had fallen in love with the main act, a man called Teddy Stream. He could sing and dance and made
everyone laugh and cry. She had never forgotten it.

‘Is that the laundry over there?’ Lily indicated a tall chimney.

‘Dunno, why?’

‘Uncle Noah and me used to stop in Sophia Street. He collected the unwanted linen from the back doors. I used to look in and see all these poor women covered in sweat.’

Ben nodded. ‘It’s a back-breaking job.’

‘Uncle Noah said the drying ovens can clog up your lungs and kill you off early.’

‘Well, someone’s got to do it, I suppose.’

‘Like me dad on the skin ships.’ It didn’t seem right that the poor were always given the worst jobs.

Ben nudged her. ‘Right, where shall I put this? Here?’

Lily turned round. The small and expensive-looking table had a shiny surface.