Lizzie's Secret (40 page)

‘Then I hope you'll be very happy.'

He handed her a receipt for the thirty pounds. ‘Fred will come at about four this afternoon, if that's all right?'

‘Lovely,' Lizzie said, feeling the excitement bubble inside her as she wrote down her address.

‘Got your own premises, have you?'

‘Not yet, but I've only just started to think about it and I came here first, because Sebastian told me you could help.'

‘Well, this place is going cheap,' he told her. ‘I've got five years left on my lease – and the rent is twenty-five bob a week – and there's a small flat over the top. When my lease is finished they will double or treble the rent. Mind you, it isn't the safest place now, because a friend of mine in the next row lost everything last week in a raid– but that's a chance we all have to take these days.'

Lizzie felt a quiver of excitement because the rent wasn't much more than she was paying on her flat. If she moved in here she would be further away from Oliver's and all reminders of the past, but she would be close to her work and someone could come in to keep an eye on Betty for her.

‘Could I have a look at the flat? Would you mind?'

‘Come on up,' he invited. ‘You'll find it untidy because I've been packing, but we've always kept things in good order…'

Lizzie discovered that the rooms were slightly larger than she had now, but the decoration left much to be desired, as did the kitchen and bathroom. If she lived here she would have to spend money on making it decent. Her heart sank and it was on the tip of her tongue to turn him down, because she wasn't sure she wanted to live there.

‘Think about it and let me know. I leave at the end of the week…'

‘What would you want for the lease?'

‘Ten pounds,' he said. ‘I can't charge more because most people want much longer leases – besides, I'd like to do you a good turn. I had a good business here and I could let you have my client list. They would soon come back once you're up and running.'

‘Would you really? Oh, that is so kind of you and would help me no end.' She smiled at him in delight.

What did it matter that the bath had a rust mark and she would have to buy a new gas cooker? Everything she needed to begin her new life was right here. Lizzie made up her mind all at once.

‘Thank you,' she said. ‘I can pay you the money now – and Fred won't need to bring the stock round, because I'll be moving in as soon as you leave.'

‘I'll let the landlord know you've taken over from me, and I'll send you a letter to say that the lease is yours. They'll be glad to get you at a time like this, because a lot of folk are getting out,' Arthur said. ‘Sebastian was right. There's something about you Lizzie Larch – I almost wish I was going to be here to watch you make a success of the business…'

Lizzie was busy packing cardboard boxes when Beth came round that evening.

‘Mum wanted to know if you needed help, so I said I'd call in on my way home. I've been to see that flat, Lizzie. It's a bit bigger than this with two bedrooms, and I've decided to take it, if they will let me…'

‘Can you afford the rent?' Lizzie guessed her friend was both excited and nervous.

‘Just about – or I shall if you'll give me a few hours serving in your showroom when you open. Bernie has promised some part-time office work but the wage wouldn't cover everything.'

‘In time I'll have some bookwork for you as well. I'll pay you extra for that, Beth. I've been thinking that between us we can probably manage, babysitting for each other…' Lizzie drew her breath sharply. ‘I had a telephone call this morning about Harry. I can have the funeral towards the end of next week, so I've arranged for his body to be taken to a chapel of rest near here and the service for next Friday…I've written to Uncle Bertie of the arrangements but I doubt he'd want to do it for me now…'

‘It will be a relief to have it over, Lizzie. They've kept you waiting ages for the coroner's verdict…'

‘Yes, and then it was left open. Harry hasn't been branded a suicide, Beth, so I can have him buried in consecrated ground.'

‘I'm glad,' Beth said. ‘If there's anything I can do? Mum won't expect me back for a while…'

*

Betty had been grizzling all night. It was almost as if the child knew that the day of her father's funeral had come. Lizzie had been up and down, nursing her, and her eyes were gritty from lack of sleep.

‘Don't cry, little one,' she whispered. ‘Mummy has to get ready to say goodbye to Daddy.'

The reality of what she was about to do hit Lizzie then. She was burying her husband, a man she'd loved when she married him – perhaps she still did a little, despite their estrangement. Her throat caught and tears pricked her eyes. They'd started out with such high hopes but it had all turned to ashes – except that she had her darling Betty and now she had a chance of her own business. Harry would have wanted her to make a success of it and she would…

Beth and her mother arrived and Beth settled her children in the sitting room so that the babies were apart and would not start each other off if one cried. Betty seemed much quieter and Lizzie hoped she'd panicked for nothing, just as the nurse said. She bent and kissed her cheek. Betty was a little warm but didn't seem in distress, so she left her with just a light cover over her tiny body.

‘She was crying all night, but I rang the nurse and she thinks it's just a tummy upset. I hope she isn't too much trouble for you.'

‘I've come armed with gripe water - and some powdered milk if she's hungry,' Mrs Court said with a smile. ‘Don't worry, Lizzie. I'm used to babies with tummy aches – Beth was the worst of the lot.'

That made the girls laugh and Lizzie went off to the funeral feeling better than she had for a while. She'd let Harry's family know about the funeral, but wasn't sure if anyone would be there. However, both his aunt, uncle and some cousins on his mother's side had turned up. The cousins and Aunt Miriam greeted Lizzie with sympathetic respect, but Uncle Bertie stared through her. It seemed he's decided to come even though he'd been so angry and ashamed when he accused her of being the cause of Harry's distress.

Lizzie's throat contracted as the simple ceremony commenced. Her eyes stung with tears but she wouldn't let them fall. If Uncle Bertie thought her a cold bitch, let him. She wanted nothing more to do with him. Lizzie placed her posy on the coffin. As the brief service ended and the casket disappeared behind the curtains as it was taken for cremation..

‘It's almost over,' Beth said. ‘We have to leave now…'

Outside, Lizzie hesitated for a moment, hardly knowing what to do because it had all been so quick and it seemed ridiculous that what had once been a living, loving man had been so easily lost. Gone like snow in sunshine, to remain only as a memory.

The vicar came to shake hands with her and offer his condolences. Lizzie thanked him in a small voice and turned away, clinging to Beth's arm – and then Aunt Miriam approached her.

‘We're having a little tea at home, Lizzie – if you and your friend would like to come?'

‘I'm sorry. I need to get back to Betty – but thank you for asking.'

‘I don't know why you've fallen out with Harry's family,' Aunt Miriam said, her eyes sad and reproachful, ‘but I hope you will let me see the baby sometimes?'

‘Of course – ' she said. ‘I can't come to you – ask your husband why. Ed will tell you where to find me, if you want to…'

‘I have asked Bertie but he will not answer me,' Aunt Miriam said. ‘If it's business, you shouldn't let it stand between Betty and her family…'

Lizzie felt Beth touch her arm, steadying her. ‘You and Harry's cousins are welcome to visit me. Now, if you will excuse me, I must get home…'

*

To Lizzie's relief her daughter was looking much better when she got home. Beth's mother had given her some gripe water when she woke grizzling and told Lizzie the most likely cause of the trouble was, as the nurse said, wind.

‘Babies get it all the time, Lizzie,' she said.

‘Well, as long as it's nothing serious,' Lizzie said. ‘Next time I'll come to you rather than bothering the nurse.'

‘Yes, you do that,' Mrs Court said. ‘I think you can call me Muriel my dear. I believe we're good friends and next to family, so I would much rather you didn't call me Mrs Court all the time.'

‘Thank you; yes, I should like that, Muriel.'

‘Oh, and before I forget, a letter came for you by the second post. It looks official, so I put it on the table in the sitting room.'

Lizzie picked up it up, slitting the sealed envelope. She scanned the message inside, finding it so shocking that she had to read it again before she could take it in.

‘You look upset,' Beth said. ‘Is something wrong?'

‘The letter is from Uncle Jack's solicitor. My aunt died a month ago. He has sent me a cheque for the rent due on my house and he says the present tenants would like to purchase the property…'

‘You didn't know your aunt had died, did you?'

‘It seems she left no instructions that I should be informed. She was cremated without fuss and only a witness from the home she'd been living in was present.'

‘Why on earth didn't she let people know that you were her next of kin? We could have gone to the funeral…'

‘My aunt hated me, Beth.'

‘She was an unpleasant woman, bitter and twisted. You shouldn't grieve for her, Lizzie.'

‘I don't think I feel grief – just sadness that she lived the way she did, not giving or receiving love…'

‘Bad news?' Beth's mother said. ‘I've got the toast under the grill, Lizzie and I've grated the cheese for our tea…'

‘I've left you to do all of it,' Lizzie said. ‘I'll come and help…'

‘Lizzie's aunt is dead,' Beth said. ‘She never even told them to let Lizzie know about the funeral, Mum.'

‘After the way she behaved on your wedding day, I dare say she thought you wouldn't want to know.'

‘Yes, perhaps…' Lizzie nodded, ‘It means Uncle's house comes to me now. It has been let to tenants and the lawyer says they've made an offer to buy it – and the cobbler's shop next door as well.'

‘Does it say how much they've offered?' Beth asked.

‘No, he wants me to go in and talk to him.'

‘Well, take my advice and think about it,' Beth's mother said. ‘Property like that can be worth a lot of money.'

‘Thank you for coming to see me, Mrs Oliver,' the lawyer shook hands. ‘Please do sit down. I was very sorry to pass on the news of your aunt's death. Unfortunately, I did not receive notice in time to tell you before the funeral.'

‘My aunt was a difficult woman, Mr Broad. It was her choice that I should not be told and we did not truly get on well. My uncle and I were very close…' She sighed. ‘I still miss him…'

‘In that case I have something you may well wish to have,' Mr Broad said and handed her a sealed envelope. ‘This was found amongst your aunt's things – but it was addressed to you. I believe it is in your uncle's hand…'

Lizzie looked at the envelope. ‘Yes, I think it is.' She opened her bag and put it inside, closing it with a snap. ‘Was there anything else, sir?'

‘Yes. It concerns the proposed sale of your property, Mrs Oliver. I have received an offer of twelve hundred pounds for the house and eight hundred for the smaller property on the side, presently let as a cobbler's shop with accommodation over the top.'

‘It is just one bedroom and a sitting room over the top, and a kitchen behind the workshop,' Lizzie said uncertain whether it was a good price. ‘Suitable only for a man living alone, or perhaps a couple. As you know, I get one pound a week for the rent – but that comes in useful…'

‘You could get thirty shillings for the house or perhaps as much as two pounds if the present tenants moved out,' Mr Broad said, ‘but it wasn't let on a proper lease and if the tenants wish to stay on I doubt you could get a rent rise just yet. Selling to a sitting tenant is not always the best, but it is difficult to get them out – unless you needed the house for yourself or a relative. In that case you could give them a month's notice…'

‘You don't think I could get more for either the house or the workshop?'

‘I think the man who wishes to purchase the workshop might go to nine hundred pounds at a push, but I doubt the sitting tenants in the house would offer more.'

‘May I have a few days to think it over, sir?' Lizzie had no idea of property prices and thought it best to ask for a little independent advice.

‘Yes, of course. Property is not perhaps the investment it might be, given that we are in the middle of a war. If the property was to be bombed, you could lose everything.'

‘Yes, I had considered that,' Lizzie said. ‘I believe I would sell the shop if you can get nine hundred for me – but I might keep the house…' She was just beginning to get an idea but she'd need to talk to Beth before she decided…

*

Lizzie caught her bus to Beth's house. If Beth had already taken the flat she'd spoken of, Lizzie couldn't afford to live in her uncle's house on her own. Together, they could make it work and it would be better for both of them if they shared a house.

Beth welcomed her in, one of the twins in her arms. ‘Matt is asleep in his cot but Jenny has been fractious all morning. How did you get on, Lizzie?'

‘Oh, I've been offered twelve hundred for the house and eight hundred for the shop. I've told him I'll sell the shop if I can get nine hundred – but I've had an idea about the house…'