Lizzie's War (10 page)

‘Well, as I said, I think we've got someone up there looking out for us…'

‘I could do with his help now,' Lizzie said but she laughed. Sometimes she tended to forget the war when she got wrapped up in her own problems, and talking about it, remembering, and thinking of the men who were out there risking their lives, well, it did make her troubles seem almost trivial… A broken window was nothing compared with what many people had lost.

*

‘We'll ask one of our constables to walk past a couple of times on his beat,' the police sergeant told Lizzie when he came to interview her later that day. ‘But I'm afraid we haven't time to do more than that, madam. With the war on, we're at full stretch. All the best men are at the front and we have to make do with special constables, grandfathers what ought to be sittin' by their fires of an evenin'. We're supposed to be a reserved occupation. They don't 'ave to go, but there's no stoppin' them when they get the urge. Half strength that's what we've been for months.'

‘Yes, of course I understand and thank you for coming to see me,' Lizzie said. ‘I wouldn't have troubled you, but it isn't the first time.'

‘I dare say one of your competitors has it in for you,' the constable said. ‘We'll have a word with Bert Oliver – hear what he has to say…'

‘I don't think he did this. He's not really well. I'd rather you didn't upset him too much…'

‘We shan't do that, Mrs Oliver, but it sounds to me that he might have a grudge. A word to the wise could be all that's needed here…'

‘Yes, perhaps.'

Lizzie sighed as he left. She wished it hadn't been necessary to call the police. It was just too unpleasant and she didn't hate Harry's uncle – in fact she felt sorry for him.

*

Beth came through from the showroom that afternoon. From the look on her face, Lizzie knew something was wrong and her heart sank. Not another cancelled order!

‘It's Harry's Aunt Miriam. She is demanding to see you, Lizzie.'

‘Ask her to come through,' Lizzie said, wondering why Harry's aunt had decided to visit her. Surely she hadn't come to quarrel as well? She hoped not, because she'd had enough of it. ‘I'll talk to her in private.'

‘She's upset and angry,' Beth warned as she went back through to the showroom.

Lizzie prepared herself for the worst. Aunt Miriam's face looked pale, but there were red circles under her eyes and Lizzie knew she'd been crying. She'd hardly seen her since Harry's funeral and felt upset to see the woman she was quite fond of looking so distressed.

‘Come and sit down, Aunt Miriam. Jean, go and put the kettle on please – and knock before you bring the tea into the office.' She took the older woman's arm and led her through. ‘We can be private in here…'

‘Oh, Lizzie,' Aunt Miriam said and sat down in the comfortable old wing chair that Lizzie kept for visitors. ‘I thought you would be so angry, but I had to come. It wasn't Bertie that did all those things. I give you my word. I know he's put a few customers off recently by telling them things he shouldn't – but he was shocked and hurt when the police came. He would never do such a thing, Lizzie. He gets angry and says things he ought not, but he wouldn't harm you. I was upset when he sent you away. You know I think of you as family – and I love little Betty…'

‘Yes, I know you do,' Lizzie said and smiled at her. ‘I wish you could see her more often, but I didn't like to bring her round, because Bert would be angry. I didn't think Bertie was to blame for the red paint and the smashed windows, but really they aren't the worst of it – it's the customers leaving me because of his lies…'

‘I know and I'm sorry.' Aunt Miriam dabbed at her eyes with a large handkerchief. ‘It's very bad of him and I've told him not to do it. I'll make him stop, Lizzie – and I'll make him tell those customers that he was mistaken.'

‘I don't think he will listen,' Lizzie said, ‘and although I don't think he did this, others do. He seems to be the obvious one, because who else would want to ruin me?'

‘I don't know, Lizzie. You don't deserve it, no matter what anyone says – I know it wasn't your fault that Harry was killed, though I did blame you at the time, because he stopped coming home on leave. Why didn't he want to come home, Lizzie?'

‘It wasn't my fault,' Lizzie said. ‘If I told you the truth about why he didn't come, it would be a betrayal of Harry's memory. Please believe me when I say that it hurt me as much as it hurt him – or you.'

‘Well, it isn't my place to pry,' the older woman said and blew her nose on a large handkerchief. ‘I know you're busy, Lizzie, but I was wondering if you could spare one evening a week to help us out at the canteen – well, it's more of a social club, as you know. You could serve or just help make sandwiches if you wanted…' Lizzie had gone to help at the social club for servicemen regularly before she had Betty, but since then and the quarrel with Uncle Bertie, she'd stayed away, partly because she didn't have much time, and partly because she hadn't been sure she would be welcome.

‘I'll have to talk to Beth about it,' Lizzie said. ‘I can't expect her to look after Betty – but I should like to help. I enjoyed it before.'

‘Well, I was thinking about things…' Aunt Miriam's eyes were filled with longing. ‘I could come round and babysit for you both – and you two could have a night at the club. It would make a change for you, Lizzie – and I'd get to see you and Betty sometimes.'

‘What would Uncle Bert say?'

‘He won't have to know,' Aunt Miriam looked guilty but determined. ‘He'll think I've gone to the club – I've kept it up all this time, twice a week. Please say yes. It's tearing me apart, Lizzie, never getting to see you and the child. You're all I've got you know…'

The handkerchief came out again as Jean knocked and then brought in a tray of tea and some biscuits. The short interval gave Lizzie time to think; she and Beth could do with a change, and one night a week at the servicemen's social club would do them both good.

‘Yes, all right, I'll ask Beth. I think she will be pleased. We never get out because her Mum looks after the children most days so we can't ask her at night or the weekends. I know I can trust you with the children – they will sleep most of the time anyway.'

‘Yes, but I'll get to see Betty in the bath and if she wakes up I can nurse her, can't I? Just for a while…'

‘Yes, of course.' Lizzie made a mental note to find a way of seeing more of Harry's aunt. Because she had no family of her own, it was important that Betty should have a few people she could count as her own when she grew up.

Beth came in for her lunchbreak after Harry's aunt had gone. She was surprised when Lizzie told her about the offer she'd made.

‘Are you sure you can trust her?'

‘Oh yes,' Lizzie smiled. ‘She's all right really, a bit of a fusspot sometimes, but she would never harm the children – and she wouldn't neglect them either.'

‘What will her husband say?'

‘She isn't going to tell him,' Lizzie said. ‘What do you think – shall we take her up on it? It's nice at the club, Beth. The young soldiers are so grateful for all we do – and you might get asked to dance. You might meet someone, fall in love and get married…'

‘I doubt it, when they know I've got twins at home,' Beth laughed harshly. ‘But it would be fun – it's ages since we had a night out together, Lizzie.'

‘Well, we have to help out with making the sandwiches and serving the men, but we shan't be working all the time and it is a way of getting out…'

‘We'll do it,' Beth said and laughed in relief. ‘I thought she'd come to have a row with you – she looked so angry.'

‘Angry with her husband, not me,' Lizzie said. ‘Perhaps things will start to get better now. She said Bert Oliver had a shock when the police went there so perhaps he might stop telling lies about me…'

*

‘It will do the pair of you the world of good,' Beth's mother said when they told her about Aunt Miriam coming to babysit one evening a week. ‘You know I'd have done it if I could, Beth, but I couldn't manage evenings or weekends.'

‘We wouldn't dream of asking,' Lizzie told her. ‘We are so grateful for all you do, and I know I would prefer you to anyone else – but Aunt Miriam is to be trusted. She wanted children but couldn't have them and she adores Betty – she's more likely to spoil them than neglect them.'

‘Well, that would be easy enough to do,' Mrs Court said and smiled at her. ‘I popped in with the children to see Mary this afternoon. She was just sitting there staring at the wall, but she cheered up when she saw the children.'

‘That must have been hard work for you – pushing all three in the pram together?' Beth said and frowned.

‘I used to have three of mine in together when the twins were babies.'

‘You were younger then,' Beth objected. ‘You shouldn't wear yourself out like that, Mum.'

‘Well Mary carried Matt home in her arms because he was screaming,' her mother said, ‘it wasn't so bad – and it cheered your sister up a bit. You mustn't grudge her a little happiness, Beth.'

‘I don't,' Beth replied but she was uneasy.

Lizzie looked at her anxiously as they fed the children and then popped them into the bath before taking them up to bed.

‘You're worried about Mary, aren't you?' Lizzie asked.

‘Yes, because… she's not right,' Beth said and shook her head. ‘I don't mind her helping Mum with the children sometimes, but I'm nervous of what she might do if she was alone with them. She's so intense, Lizzie.'

‘Beth! You can't think she would hurt your babies? She's grieving because she lost hers, but that doesn't make her a monster.'

Beth nodded but she turned away and didn't answer.

Later, when she was in bed she dwelled on the answers both Lizzie and her mother had given her. They both seemed to think she was being unfair to Mary, even though Lizzie had understood how she felt. Beth's mum was bound to feel for Mary, because she'd lost her baby – Beth was sorry for her too, but she didn't quite trust her sister. She couldn't have said why, but when Aunt Miriam came to babysit for the evening, she would make certain she knew never to leave Mary alone with them. If her sister called round on some pretext, she wasn't to be left with the children…

*

‘Why don't we ask Mary if she'd like to come to the social club too?' Lizzie said as they travelled to work the next morning, after a night that had been remarkably quiet. The sirens had gone but they hadn't heard any bombing and then the all-clear had sounded. No one believed it meant the blitz was over, but perhaps they were going to get a bit of a rest; it was certainly needed, because the fires were still burning from one of the worst nights London had ever seen. ‘It might take her mind off her loss and perhaps she would enjoy it… it could be her salvation, being around men who've endured hell…'

‘We could ask her I suppose,' Beth said, still feeling a little dubious. ‘She's not easy to understand. Mary's always gone her own way in the past…'

‘Yes, I know you don't always get on with her, Beth, but she must be going through her own private hell. If it helps a bit, perhaps she'll come out of her misery… I know you're worried about her, but giving her some help might be better than treating her like a leper.'

‘I haven't! I don't…' Beth was indignant, but she knew Lizzie's words carried some truth. She would have much preferred it if she didn't have to ask her sister to go with them, but she couldn't refuse because Lizzie would think she was being mean.

Mary shook her head when Beth told her about the club and asked if she'd like to help out. ‘You'd be with us and I'm sure they would be glad of the help, Mary.'

‘What would my husband think if he came home and heard I was out at some club? I've just lost his child – do you think I want to go dancing and drinking?'

‘You don't need to do any of that,' Beth said. ‘You could help with the food and perhaps serve if you wanted. There may be music and dancing, but you can just listen and watch.'

‘It's all right for you,' Mary said, her mouth twisting with scorn. ‘You've no husband to worry about. It's just like you to carry on with men you don't even know. Everything goes right for you, doesn't it? Dad thought you were a little tart when you got pregnant by that toff – but you soon got round him and Mum. Now you're living in a posh house with that friend of yours – and she's making lots of money with her hats…'

‘Lizzie works hard for what she gets and it isn't easy. She makes a living but she isn't rich…'

‘No?' Mary looked at her with dislike. ‘Who else do you know who could afford to give you presents like she does? You're getting above your stations, Beth. One of these days you'll take a tumble…'

‘Oh, Mary…' Beth sighed, holding on to her temper. ‘I don't know why you've taken against me. I'm sorry you lost the baby. I know what it is like to lose someone you love, but you're so bitter and jealous—'

‘I'd like you to leave,' Mary said. ‘And don't bother me again. I've got more to do with my time than run after servicemen…'

Beth left her to it. She was angry that she'd wasted precious time, time she might have had with her children. Weekends were very precious for both Beth and Lizzie, because it was the one chance they got to take the children to the park or out for an ice cream at Lyons. They were all a bit young to appreciate the treat yet, but they loved being all together with their mums and Beth loved it too.

It was one of the reasons she'd kept refusing Bernie. It was comfortable living with Lizzie, sharing the bills and their rations, and she knew that if she'd been managing in one little room in a lodging house she would probably have taken him long before this, but she'd been lucky, just as Mary claimed. Her father had disowned her for a while, but he'd come round after the twins were born, and she was lucky to live in Lizzie's house. Lizzie's uncle had been well off in his own way, even though his wife had behaved as if she hadn't a penny to her name, but after her death Lizzie had come into quite a bit of money as well as the house – and she'd shared her good fortune with Beth – just as Beth helped her when she'd been more or less thrown out by her aunt. And it was better for both of them to share pool their resources.