Lizzie's War (11 page)

Beth's conscience wouldn't let her rest after her meeting with Mary. She told Lizzie that she'd come close to hitting her sister and they'd parted with harsh words, but Lizzie only laughed and shook her head.

‘You've got a temper too, love,' she said. ‘I tell you what, I'll pop round there and talk to her. We'll give her another chance, because she needs our help and support, Beth.'

‘Yes, I know,' Beth said and felt a bit ashamed. ‘I suppose sisters do quarrel a lot and there's always a certain rivalry – but she's right, I did land on my feet, and most of it is down to you, Lizzie.'

‘We're closer than sisters,' Lizzie placed an arm about her shoulders. ‘Whatever I've given you, you've given back, Beth. I couldn't manage without you. I mean that.'

Beth nodded and sighed. ‘Bernie wants to take me out shopping next Saturday. He wants to buy me a new coat and things for the kids – and he says we'll have something to eat. Would you mind if I went…? I know it lands you with the kids all day…?'

‘Ed asked if he could take us out. He'll come here and we can take the children to the park and feed them ice creams and then we'll have fish and chips and mushy peas. He's like an uncle to them and Matt loves him…'

‘I think I'd rather be with you,' Beth said and laughed. ‘But Bernie is so insistent and I don't feel I can say no again.'

Lizzie had better luck with Beth's sister than she'd had. Mary seemed a bit shamefaced and subdued as she invited Lizzie into her home. The sitting room looked almost as bad as if a bomb had hit it, clothes and shoes all over the settee and the floor.

‘I'm having a sort out,' Mary explained. ‘I can't afford much new, so I'm going to see what I can make out of my old clothes, because some of the material is still good…'

‘I think a lot of people are doing that now,' Lizzie said ruefully. ‘There isn't much in the shops these days, and what is available has no style. If you need help with anything, Mary, you could bring it round to us and I'm sure Jean would help. She's our seamstress and a lovely girl, though still learning herself.

‘You're always so generous,' Mary said but there was a hint of resentment in her face.

‘I like to help friends where I can.' Lizzie hesitated, then, ‘That's why I wanted to see if I could persuade you to come to the social club with us. The men are grateful for what we offer them, some nice food, a cup of tea and the piano. Usually they have a sing-song and sometimes they dance… it's all very informal. I used to go twice a week then stopped after I had Betty, but I'm pleased to be doing something useful again.'

‘I'll think about it,' Mary said. ‘Beth asked me but I got cross with her. She seems to think all she has to do is wave her finger and we all come running…'

‘That isn't very fair, is it, Mary?'

‘No, not fair at all,' Mary laughed harshly. ‘Beth always brings out the worst in me. I've never known why. I loved Dottie and my brother, but I never could take to her – perhaps because she was the baby and they all made so much fuss of her.'

Mary really was jealous of her sister and nothing Lizzie could do or say would change that.

‘Well, the offer is there and you would be welcome if you turned up, Mary.'

‘I'll think about it – but thanks for asking.'

Lizzie put Mary and her problems out of her head and went to work. She'd thought Mary might have been drinking sherry when she called, because she could smell it and there had been an empty bottle on the table with a used glass. Lizzie knew that drinking alcohol wouldn't ease Mary's pain, but she wouldn't listen to wise advice, from her mother or anyone else. There certainly wasn't anything more that Lizzie could do to help her.

She was surprised but pleased when one of her old customers came through to the workrooms that morning.

‘Mr Carter,' she said. ‘How nice to see you. I wondered why you hadn't been to order for – it must be two months now…'

‘Beth told me I could come through,' he said a little pink in the cheeks. ‘Truth is I've had a lot on my plate recently, Mrs Oliver – but things are sorted now and I'd like to place an order with you please.'

‘I have several new lines for spring and summer. If you would like to look at these examples Ed has been working on. We have a range of silk hats… well, it's artificial silk actually, because we can't get anything from Italy these days, and you know we used to buy a lot of our best materials from there. However, this is produced in England and it is such nice quality that only a true connoisseur would know. Besides, it's cheaper and that means more women can afford it… I can sell you all these lines at just twenty-two shillings each.'

‘Ah yes, price always helps,' John Carter said and smiled at her. ‘Well, you've been busy – and I like all of what I've seen. I'm going to take three of each of those new styles, one in each of the colours you have on show – and I like the velvet bonnets too. No one else is producing anything like these.' He picked one up to admire it, because it was so unusual. There was a little poke brim, which gave it the style of a bonnet, but the rest was soft and squashy and sat on the back of the head like a little cap rather than an old-fashioned bonnet. ‘I'll try the red and the mauve in this one, just to see how it goes…'

‘Thirty-two hats?' Lizzie asked, a little surprised because his order was usually no more than ten or twelve at a time.

The colour rose up his neck and he couldn't quite look at her as he said, ‘Well, I've neglected my stock for a while and my manager bought some rubbish while I was out – we've still got it on the shelves after two months and its likely to be there next year unless I have a sale and get rid of it…'

Lizzie smiled but didn't comment, though she was fairly sure that Mr Carter had tried another supplier after listening to Bert Oliver's tales and discovered that he couldn't sell the stock the way he could sell the stylish hats he bought from her.

‘Well, I'm delighted to have you back,' Lizzie said. ‘I shall give your order priority and it will be ready by next Monday – will that suit you?'

‘Wonderful,' he said. ‘If you continue to design such lovely things I'm sure you will soon be a huge success.' He tipped his hat to her and went back through the showroom.

Ed came over to her when they heard the shop bell go and knew Mr Carter had left. He scratched his head and looked at her with respect.

‘That was masterful, Lizzie. I thought we were selling them for twenty-one shillings each?'

‘A little lesson for him,' Lizzie said and gave him a wicked look. ‘He left us in the lurch, Ed, and he's realized that a hat priced at around a pound or so here is a lot better than he will get from most places for that price. It seems that he has overcome his moral objections in favour of his pocket.'

‘Perhaps Oliver has relented and told him the truth. John Carter is one of Oliver's oldest customers and if he believed what he'd been told – well, I was surprised when he walked in.'

‘I'm just glad he did,' Lizzie said. ‘But we'll keep the price at twenty-two shillings now, for a while anyway.'

‘You know what Sebastian Winters used to say – he told you not to sell your work too cheaply. If he had his way, he'd be selling your lines at ten guineas a go in his West End store.'

The mention caused Lizzie a pang of grief, because it seemed so long since she'd seen Sebastian, and she hadn't forgotten that awful dream when he seemed to cry out for her, but she kept her smile in place as she said, ‘That reminds me; isn't it time his manager came for an order? I hope we aren't going to lose him too…'

‘Oh, no, that would be more than his job is worth,' Ed said with a knowing look. ‘Mr Winters would have something to say when he got back, and no mistake.'

Lizzie agreed and they began to plan the order for Mr Carter.

The mystery of why he'd come back to them was solved the next evening when Aunt Miriam came to their house armed with a bag of sweets and some cake she'd made for the children. She was obviously looking forward to having the care of them for the first time, and it wasn't until Betty was bathed and in her cot that she remembered to tell Lizzie.

‘I happened to see Mr Carter on Monday,' she said as Lizzie and Beth were putting on their coats. ‘I told him the truth – that Ed was just working for you and living in the flat because his house was burned down. And that you lived here with Beth and your children, and I hinted that Bert was overworking and might say things he didn't mean… did I do right, Lizzie?'

‘Aunt Miriam, you're a darling,' Lizzie said and gave her a big hug. ‘Mr Carter came and placed a huge order yesterday – the biggest he'd ever given me.'

‘Well, I never,' Aunt Miriam said and glowed with pleasure. ‘I shall have to see if I can happen on a few more of the old customers, Lizzie. Now off you go, and enjoy yourselves. The children will be fine with me, and you've shown me where the shelter is in case we get a raid.'

They thanked her and left, feeling excited and laughing over what Aunt Miriam had done.

‘I'm sure she waylaid him after he'd been visiting with Harry's uncle,' Lizzie said and hugged Beth's arm. ‘She did us a good turn, Beth. That order was the only one on our books when he placed it, though two smaller ones came in later – just repeat orders by the phone, but it means we shall keep going for another week or two.'

‘Was it getting that bad, Lizzie?'

‘Not quite,' Lizzie said ruefully, ‘but if more customers stop coming it could be soon. Ed would put money in if I asked, but that could go the same way if things didn't pick up.'

‘Oh, Lizzie, all your bright dreams – smashed by a vindictive old man…'

‘No, you mustn't call him that,' Lizzie said. ‘He's hurt and he's lonely – and probably frightened. He's finding it difficult to cope these days. He took on all those Government contracts, but so many of his staff have left for one reason or another – and he couldn't find anyone as skilled at cutting as Ed. Aunt Miriam said he's gone back to cutting himself, which means he'll have to work longer hours to get the paperwork done. I imagine he was bitter about that and he took out his anger and frustration on me.'

‘Well, I still think it was mean of him – but good for Aunt Miriam; if she has her way we'll get most of the customers back again…'

‘Let's forget our troubles for now,' Lizzie suggested. ‘The men we're going to be looking after tonight have suffered more than we can even guess, Beth. We've had bombs, rubble and dirt everywhere, but some of these men have been to hell and back. We've got to be bright and cheerful and make them feel relaxed. At least the constant raids have stopped now, so we shan't have to make a dash for the shelters…'

*

Lizzie looked round the crowded room. There were far more servicemen here than there had been when she'd come the first time, but that was more than a year ago and the war had only just started. Everyone had been optimistic then about the outcome, but recently the news in the papers hadn't been good. The Allies were fighting on several fronts and if something went well in one area, it was sure that somewhere else there would be nothing but bad news.

‘Hello, darlin',' a soldier with a cheeky grin came up to Lizzie as she took her place behind the serving counter. ‘I'll 'ave a cup of rosy lee and one of them sausage rolls…'

‘All right.' Lizzie smiled back. ‘Do you like milk and sugar in your tea, sir?'

‘As much sugar as you can spare,' he replied, giving her a wink. ‘Afore the bleedin' war I had four teaspoons in a mug like that, but now I 'ave to make do with one if I'm lucky.'

‘Well, tonight you can have two,' Lizzie said and poured two heaped spoons of sugar into his mug and then passed it to him with a plate and a sausage roll.

‘Cor lovely,' he said as he took a sip and then arched his brows at her. ‘This is me lucky night – don't suppose you'd make it even better and let me walk you home?'

‘No, I'm afraid not,' Lizzie said but laughed softly to show she wasn't offended. ‘Enjoy your tea, soldier.'

‘Me name is Alfie, darlin',' he winked and went off chuckling.

Lizzie was amused, because she knew that wouldn't be the last time she was chatted up that evening, but it went with the job and she could handle cheeky but friendly young men like Alfie.

It was getting on for nine thirty when Mary walked in. Lizzie saw her first and was surprised when she walked up to one of the airmen at the piano and spoke to him. He nodded and started to play an American jazz number. Almost immediately three airmen got up and started to jitterbug with one of the girls who had come with them.

‘What does she think she's doing?' Beth hissed to Lizzie as she brought a fresh pot of tea through from the kitchen. ‘She was asked to help out not to be in charge of the entertainment.'

‘Leave her alone,' Lizzie murmured. ‘At least she's here.'

‘Wonder where she got that outfit…'

‘I think she remodelled it from old clothes,' Lizzie said, eyeing the bolero and skirt with appreciation. Mary had added a strip of contrast material to the flowered skirt to give it length and bound the short sleeves of the bolero with the same contrast braid. ‘She obviously has some talent with her needle…'

Beth sniffed and went off to pour tea for three young sailors who had entered together. Lizzie smiled as Mary came up to her.

‘I'm glad you came, Mary. Do you want to take over from me and I'll go to the kitchen and help out? We need more sandwiches. You'd think some of this lot hadn't eaten in a month.'

‘They eat better than we do most of the time,' Mary said, eyeing the food caustically. ‘Yes, all right. All I have to do is pour tea and hand out the food, isn't it? Is it rationed?'