by Rosie Clarke
‘Mary is missing her job,’ Beth said, sounding a little harsh. ‘She enjoyed nursing. She should go back to it once the child is born…’
‘And how do you think she is going to manage that, miss? I shan’t be able to have the child and she doesn’t get on well with Andy’s mother, as you very well know.’
Beth flushed as she heard the note of reprimand in her mother’s voice. Obviously it would be too much to expect her to care for four children every day; three was quite enough and Beth had noticed that her mother was looking a bit tired again.
‘Lizzie and me were talking. We might make other arrangements – for our children, at least sometimes… just to give you a rest.’
‘Were you now?’ Annoyance flickered in Mrs Court’s eyes. ‘And have I said it was too much for me, miss?’
‘No, but perhaps it isn’t fair to the others…’
‘Mary and Dottie both have husbands and they don’t need to work,’ her mother reminded her. ‘I don’t mind having their children now and then, but yours and Lizzie’s come first.’
‘We’re so grateful for it,’ Lizzie said and kissed her daughter. She placed her in the playpen Mr Court had made for the children. ‘Be good for Nanny, Betty love.’
Mrs Court had asked Lizzie to call her Nanny for Betty’s benefit and she was the closest thing to a mother that Lizzie had known since her own died. Her parents had both died of diphtheria when she was a small child and she’d been taken to live with her aunt and uncle. Lizzie’s memories of her mother were still hazy, even though she’d found a picture of her parents in a box of items belonging to Aunt Jane. They’d been in the loft and discovered when there was a small leak in the water tank. Lizzie’s aunt had put the things up in the attic years before and forgotten them, even though the photos and a few bits of old silver really belonged to Lizzie. Their discovery had been a joy to Lizzie and the photograph frame was now polished and stood in pride of place on her dressing table at home. It was wonderful to know that at last she had a few things that had belonged to her mother.
‘You needn’t worry, Lizzie,’ Mrs Court assured her, taking Betty in her arms, ‘your little love is never any trouble.’
It was a wrench leaving her daughter every day, but Lizzie knew she was lucky to have someone like Beth’s mother to look after her.
‘We’ll get off then, Mum,’ Beth said. ‘I might be a bit later this evening. Lizzie was followed to the tram stop last night, so we shall come home together – you won’t mind another half an hour?’
‘No, of course not – but, Lizzie, that’s awful; if it happens again you must go to the police,’ Mrs Court looked anxious.
‘I shall do,’ Lizzie assured her. ‘I could ask Ed to see me to the tram stop – but if he saw anyone following me, he would probably go after whoever it is and knock him down, and Beth offered to wait…’
‘I’ll keep them until you get here,’ Beth’s mother said. ‘Get off and open that shop of yours up, Lizzie – but don’t ignore this. If someone is threatening you, the sooner it’s dealt with the better.’
‘Yes…’ Lizzie hesitated, not wanting to bother Mrs Court with her other worries, but Beth came straight out with it.
‘A woman stole two hats from the showroom last night too. Lizzie went to fetch her a new one and when she came back the woman had run off with two hats.’
‘What are we coming to?’ Mrs Court exclaimed and shook her head. ‘I blame the war, you know – the restrictions are making people depressed and some will do anything. All these black market people, selling stuff under the counter – and where is the good in that I ask you? It has to be stolen stuff and that’s just not right. I don’t mind an extra bit of sugar or meat if I can get it from my regular grocer, but I wouldn’t buy pinched stuff.’
‘Dad would have a fit,’ Beth said. ‘I’m sure he gets offered pinched stuff on his market stall, but I know he won’t take it.’
‘No, he won’t, and you should hear him going on about those that do,’ her mother said. ‘He knew that butcher that got done for selling stolen meat last week. He said Alfie was a decent bloke before the war, but it’s all the extra profit that has corrupted him.’
The girls knew that Mr Court took the war seriously; he’d been turned down when he offered his services to the Army, but he’d been accepted as an air raid warden and went out six nights a week wearing a tin hat with ARP on the front; it was one of his jobs to warn people about lights showing through the blackout curtains and he spent a lot of time helping to pull the injured from bombed buildings.
‘We’ve got to go, Mum,’ Beth said and kissed her cheek, then grabbed Lizzie by the arm and hurried her out. She grimaced when they were clear of the house. ‘Once she gets on her high horse there’s no stopping her. I know she’s right, but it’s so tempting and it’s not like stealing hats, is it? I mean if you’re offered a couple of sausages under the counter it seems like nothing. I used to go to Mr Henry and he was always slipping an extra chop in my bag – for the children he said, but they don’t eat much meat yet, unless it’s minced.’
‘I think he fancied you,’ Lizzie said and raised her brows teasingly.
‘He’s got a wife and two kids – poor woman,’ Beth said. ‘How must she feel, now that her husband has been given ten months in prison for receiving?’
‘Awful, I should think. You know how people talk; it won’t do his business any good, even though his wife has managed to keep it open…’ Lizzie glanced over her shoulder as they climbed on board the tram. The conductor was a young woman with brassy blonde hair. She churned the tickets out without a smile and passed on.
Beth looked at Lizzie thoughtfully. ‘You had a bad dream last night, didn’t you? I heard you cry out but I didn’t like to come in…’
‘I wish you had,’ Lizzie said and shuddered. ‘It was the old one I used to have. I hadn’t had it for ages, but after that incident last night… it got to me a bit. I woke up shivering and shaking… so ridiculous. It isn’t going to happen again.’
‘No, of course not, but it must have been horrid being followed,’ Beth said sympathetically. ‘You’ve had a lot to put up with, Lizzie. When I think about all you’ve been through, I consider myself lucky. I lost Mark but I have the twins – and Dad has almost forgiven me. I know he wishes I was married, but I’m still considering Bernie’s proposal. I’m not in love with Bernie, but I suppose he’s kind, and I know my family approve.’
Lizzie nodded and made an appropriate answer, but Beth had the feeling that she was preoccupied. It wasn’t surprising really after what had happened the previous evening. It was bound to play on her mind even if she tried not to worry about it.
Lizzie didn’t have a family to turn to. She treated Beth’s family as her own, but it wasn’t the same. It was rotten luck the way her parents had died when she was young, and then both her uncle and aunt had let her down – though her uncle had done what he could to make amends. Lizzie’s Aunt Jane had been a misery and she’d revealed the shattering secret of Lizzie’s past on the eve of her wedding. If she’d told her the truth years before perhaps Lizzie would have had time to tell Harry – and then he would not have discovered it on their wedding night…
Beth knew most of the story, though Lizzie had not told her everything about their quarrels. Yet she knew Harry had hurt Lizzie badly. He’d been jealous and cruelly suspicious of her. Lizzie hadn’t complained at the time, but Beth reckoned it had been rotten for her back then.
‘You’re living your dream now, aren’t you, Lizzie – you’ve got your chance to design beautiful hats like you always wanted?’
‘Yes, I’ve got the shop, and I’ve got you and my lovely little Betty…’ Lizzie hesitated for a moment, then smiled. ‘It’s what I wanted and I’m happy in my work, but…’ she sighed and Beth guessed she was thinking about Sebastian Winters. Lizzie hadn’t told her she was in love with him, but she’d seen it in her eyes when his name came up in conversation, as it did from time to time.
Sebastian’s manager was still one of their best customers, even though he hadn’t heard from his boss for months.
‘You don’t know where Sebastian is, do you?’ she asked and saw Lizzie frown. ‘Is he in the Army – or what?’
‘Sort of, I think,’ Lizzie said softly. ‘It’s not something I can talk about, Beth – you know what they say about walls having ears.’
Beth looked at the woman in the hairnet and wool scarf sitting in front of them. She was clearly listening to their conversation and Beth made a face at her back.
‘No, you can’t be too careful,’ she said and grinned at Lizzie. ‘They say spies are everywhere. Did you hear about that woman who got sent to prison for helping one? All she did was give him a meal and a bath… I think they might hang her…’
The woman in front was sitting to attention now, straining to hear, but Lizzie gave Beth a poke in the ribs, because she knew she was taking the mickey out of their eavesdropper.
‘You’re a wretch, Beth,’ Lizzie said when they got off the tram. ‘That poor woman will be dying to know what that was all about and no one can tell her because you made it up.’
‘Serves her right for listening to us,’ Beth said. ‘Did you mean it though – do you really think Sebastian may be caught up in something like that… spying – for us, of course.’
‘I don’t know, but it isn’t regular Army,’ Lizzie said. ‘I know he was concerned before he went away last time, but I’ve no idea what he does.’
‘He hasn’t written to you?’
‘Just postcards, and they don’t say much. I’m sure he would have written, if he could…’
‘Would you hear if…’ Beth hesitated as they paused at the edge of the path, looking for a way through the rubble that had appeared overnight as the result of what might have been a gas explosion. Men were digging in the road, clearly trying to repair the damage. ‘You know…’
‘I’m not his next of kin, but I’m sure he has made some kind of arrangement…’
Beth nodded. ‘What will happen when the war is over? Will you marry him if he asks?’
‘I don’t know,’ Lizzie said honestly, because of late the doubts had crept in again. Those few days at Christmas seemed so far away now. ‘I know I feel something for him, but until he comes back… I can’t be sure if it’s love.’
‘What is love anyway?’ Beth asked. ‘I thought I was in love with Tony but we fell out and then Mark happened and it was like a thunderbolt; I didn’t know what hit me until it was too late and they told me he’d died. Perhaps we expect too much of life, Lizzie. Mum seems content, but I’m not sure she was ever in love.’
‘Oh, I’m sure she was and probably still is,’ Lizzie said. ‘I’ve seen the way she looks at your father now and then. I know they argue – but I think the love is there beneath the surface. I should like my marriage to be like theirs one day…’
They had reached her shop and Lizzie gave a gasp of dismay as she saw that the large window at the front had been cracked, the glass falling inward amongst the display of hats; not as the result of an explosion, but from what looked like deliberate malice.
‘I’m so sorry, Lizzie.’ Ed came out to them, looking grim. ‘Someone must have used a hammer on it. I found it when I came back from the pub last night; it was too late to telephone you, because there was nothing you could do. I’ve already made arrangements and they will put a new front in this morning – and this time we’ll have stronger glass.’
‘Who would want to do such a thing?’ Beth demanded angrily.
‘Perhaps the man who followed me last night,’ Lizzie said and went white. ‘Perhaps someone is trying to warn me…’
‘What do you mean?’ Ed asked anxiously as they all went inside.
Lizzie explained about the man following her to the tram. He listened, his expression becoming grimmer.
‘I can only think of one person who would want to upset you, Lizzie. I knew he was mean and sharp-tempered, but I never thought Harry’s uncle would stoop to this.’
‘We don’t know it was him,’ Lizzie objected. ‘You can’t accuse him without proof, Ed.’
‘Can’t I?’ Ed looked stubborn. ‘I’ve got a gut feeling he’s behind this – and if he is, he won’t stop there…’
‘Oh, don’t let’s talk about it,’ Lizzie was close to tears. ‘I’ll put the kettle on. I could do with a cup of tea…’
*
Despite the upsetting start, the day began well for business because one of Lizzie’s best customers came to see her and placed an order for six bespoke hats that she wanted for the spring. The window had been swiftly repaired and it didn’t seem worth worrying about what might just have been someone’s spite.
‘I haven’t been in for a while,’ Mabel Carmichael said with a faint smile. ‘I wasn’t well after I had the baby and didn’t feel like going out much.’
‘I’m sorry you weren’t well,’ Lizzie sympathized. ‘I hope you’re feeling better now?’
‘Much better, and my husband says I need a whole new wardrobe, though I told him the clothes available now are awful, but I thought if I could get some lovely new hats the dresses I had before the utility look came in would do. I’ve put on a little weight, but I can get someone to remodel them for me.’
‘Do you have a good seamstress?’
‘Yes, I do actually. I’ve known her for ages – but no one makes hats like you do, Lizzie.’
‘Thank you,’ Lizzie laughed at her enthusiasm, because Mabel had been the first customer to order her hats straight from the drawing pad. ‘I’ve got a few new designs in my sketchbook and one or two hats I’m working on – why don’t you come through to the workshop and have a look?’
‘Oh, I’d love to,’ Mabel agreed. ‘I haven’t seen where you work since you started up on your own, have I?’
‘No, probably not,’ Lizzie said and smiled at Beth who was serving one of their regular customers with hats at wholesale prices. Mabel paid more for hers, but still found them much cheaper than buying from the West End stores.
Mabel spent an hour looking through the new designs and then purchased three hats that Lizzie was working on and ordered another four from the drawing pad.
‘When will they be ready?’ she asked as she prepared to leave.
‘On Monday I should think. Yes, Monday,’ Lizzie said after consulting her order book. ‘I’ll make sure they’re ready for you.’
Just as Mabel was leaving, the door opened and Beth’s elderly grandmother entered looking very upset. She’d been very ill the previous year and they’d wondered if she would pull through, but she’d recovered and now lived with Beth’s parents though she spent most mornings in bed. Seeing her looking so anxious and upset made them realize that something was very wrong.
‘You’ve got to come home, Beth,’ she said. ‘Mary’s been taken bad and your mother is in a state. She needs to go to the hospital to see your sister and she can’t leave the children.’
‘Yes, you must go straight away,’ Lizzie said, immediately concerned, especially when she saw the old lady’s hands shaking. ‘I’m so sorry you’ve had to come all this way.’
‘Bless you lovey; Beth’s mother said we should telephone from the box on the corner, but I took a cab and it’s waiting outside to take us back. I’d have looked out for the babies, but your mum said Betty and Jenny would probably sleep through until their feed, but Matt has been playing up all day again, and he would be too much for me.’
‘It isn’t fair my going off and leaving you in the lurch,’ Beth said but Lizzie gave her a little push towards the back room.
‘Get your things and go. Your mum needs to get to the hospital, I can see to things here.’
‘All right, thanks, Lizzie. I’m sorry…’
Beth had grabbed her coat and she went out, throwing Lizzie a look of apology mixed with distress. Lizzie knew that Beth wasn’t on the best of terms with Mary, but she still cared for her and none of them would want Mary to lose
her baby.
Lizzie took over the order Beth had been preparing. The customer looked at her hesitantly, and then decided to speak.
‘I was in two minds whether to order from you today, Mrs Oliver,’ he said. ‘I’ve been warned that you might be closing down soon…’
‘I don’t know who told you that, but it isn’t true.’ Lizzie frowned ‘If someone has been trying to stop you coming to me it is for the wrong reasons, Mr Harris. I’ve no intention of closing.’
‘I’m glad about that, because Oliver told me he wouldn’t serve me if I continued to buy from you. However, he doesn’t sell what I need these days, I’m afraid. I should be very sorry if you let me down too.’
‘Oh…’ Lizzie bit back the angry retort that sprang to her lips. ‘That is rather unfair of him – but I know he is angry with me.’
‘He tried to tell me some cock and bull story,’ Mr Harris said, ‘but I don’t hold with that kind of thing – and a person’s private life is their own – but some folk wouldn’t think that way. I’m afraid you might lose some of your customers if he continues…’
Lizzie felt a sinking sensation inside. She had half a dozen good clients who had been regulars with Harry’s uncle until he cut back on everything but his Government orders and she’d started up her business. They’d come to her and been pleasantly surprised to see her stylish hats, transferring their custom immediately.
‘I hope you’re wrong, Mr Harris. I couldn’t afford to lose too many customers.’
‘Well, I hope so too,’ he said and took his wallet out to pay her. ‘As I said, I don’t take notice of nasty talk like that, but some will. Thank you – I’ll call again next month. You’ve got some nice new lines in and if they go well in the shop, I’ll be ordering more.’
Lizzie thanked him and watched as he left the showroom. He’d been honest enough to tell her that Bert Oliver was trying to put some of her customers off buying from her. She’d known Harry’s uncle was angry with her. He’d jumped to conclusions and blamed her for making Harry miserable and causing him to take his own life, which some people had suspected at the time – until the car was discovered to have been faulty.
