Rose of Ruby Street

by Carol Rivers

She smiled at the average-looking man sitting beside her in the comfortable rear of the car. Though Doug was in his sixties, his amiable face had weathered very well. Unlike her, he was free from those ravaging furrows of time; if it wasn't for the blessed Max Factor, she'd be in a fine state! Doug simply shaved and threw a handful of water across his face. He wasn't perturbed by his paunch or the fact that the last button of his smart waistcoats were left undone. At least she didn't have that bother; she was as thin as a rake, no doubt down to the fags and port wine that she relied on to settle her nerves. And as long as she had the wherewithal to purchase it, the bottle of henna in the cupboard was essential for her crowning glory.

  'I'm alright, cocker,' she assured her husband, raising her voice so that Bert who was driving, could hear every vowel. 'But I hope this ain't a storm in a teacup. I need to get back to me cooking. Why, it's December already and I'm not even started on me Christmas cakes yet.'

  'I'll have you returned in no time at all, Lil,' Bert promised over his shoulder. 'Nearly there now.'

  'I should hope so too,' Lil said grudgingly. She was not only house-proud but a stickler for routine. 'There ain't many people I'd down tools for. And more to the point, why all this secrecy? It ain't that flamin' ex-husband of hers, Frank Flowers, is it?' she demanded without giving the driver a chance to reply. 'What's the score on that blockhead? Still acting the grand man at Lizzie's pub? Like the Jonah he is, I wouldn't be surprised if those voices he says he hears in his head have given him directions all the way to hell and back.'

  'No, it ain't Frank,' Bert clarified in his deep voice. 'Lizzie says he's keeping his head down and making a go of being a landlord. Reckons he's even given up wearing his pinstripes and two-tones now, trying to look like he ain't a villain.'

  'Then he's onto a losing wicket,' Lil smirked, touching the end of her long nose. She sniffed disdainfully. 'Frank's a born loser if ever I met one. To this day, I can't work out why Lizzie married the geezer. It was – and still is – his brother she loves.'

  'Now, now,' Doug said firmly and patted her knee. 'All in the past now.'

  'Well if it's in the past,' Lil challenged, 'why don't Danny do something about the present? Everyone knows him and Lizzie were made for each other.'

  But Doug reminded her of the obvious. 'She's still married to Frank – legally.'

  'Why don't your sister get a divorce?' Lil addressed this comment to Bert, who merely gave a non-committal shrug of his broad shoulders.

  Lil had to smile; people might think Bert was all muscle and no brain but they would be wrong to underestimate him. He adored his sister and had stuck by her through thick and thin. Good riddance though, to Kate's youngest son, Vinnie, a petty crook with a vicious streak and Babs, a common tart who couldn't give a damn about Polly, her daughter. The youngest Allen though, Lil had all the time in the world for. Flo Allen still lived next door in the Allen's family home with her husband Syd Miller and their mischief of a son, little Nelson. They were good neighbours and Lil prided herself on their close friendship.

  'Here we are,' said Bert as he stopped the car outside the greengrocery. 'I'll help yer out, Lil.'

  'I ain't a bloody cripple, ducks.' Lil pushed the heavy door open, eager to get inside and get this storm in a teacup over and done with.

  Chapter 6

  'Oh, my God, it ain't my Ethel, is it?' Lil shrieked the moment she walked into Lizzie's bedroom and saw her daughter lying in Lizzie's bed. 'What's happened to my girl? And, is that what I think it is?'

  Lil's agonized plea twisted Lizzie's heartstrings and she reached out to support her old friend. Lil was rigid with shock and Lizzie knew it would be a long time before anyone could calm her.

  'Bert, put the kettle on.' Lizzie gave her brother the nod, which meant he was to make himself scarce and he duly complied.

  She ushered Lil and Doug to the wooden kitchen chairs she had placed beside the bed. It was clear that Lil was trying to make up her mind how to react. Her piercing dark eyes were flitting between her daughter who had not yet made a sound and Polly's crib in which Callum was asleep.

  'There's a lot to tell, Lil,' Lizzie began as she positioned herself by Ethel. 'I know it's been a while since we've all been together. From what I can gather from Ethel, she never intended to distance herself from you, or me come to that.'

  'You could have bloody fooled me!' Lil spluttered, staring accusingly at her daughter.

  'If you give Ethel a chance, she'll explain why she was forced to do what she did.'

  Lil took a breath but once again was prevented from speaking by Doug, who with tears in his eyes, walked forward and bent over Ethel. Placing his lips gently on her cheek, he murmured huskily, 'Hello my old china. How are you doing?'

  A very faint smile touched Ethel's lips, the briefest glow appearing in her faded blue eyes as she stared up at her father. 'Hello, Dad. I'm sorry…I'm so sorry.' The tears slid down her cheeks accompanied by sobs that were body-racking. While Doug squeezed Ethel's hand attempting to control his own emotions, Lizzie lifted the baby from the crib.

  'Here Lil, take your grandson.'

  'My God, my God,' was all Lil could breathe as Lizzie placed the child in her arms. 'Our grandson …?'

  'His name's Callum, Mum,' Ethel whispered as Lizzie helped her to sit up.

  'So, you were up the duff!' Lil cleared her throat with an effort. 'I wasn't wrong. But I didn't know it would be – that you'd have - '

  'Lil!' Doug prevented his wife from continuing as he released Ethel's fingers and pulled out one of the chairs. 'Sit down and let Ethel speak.'

  Lizzie watched his feelings play out on his face as he gazed down at his grandson. Less easy to read than Lil, he stared at the little boy, his forehead furrowing as Callum coughed in Lil's arms.

  To Lizzie's relief, Lil soon had the infant over her shoulder. 'One thing I can tell you,' Lil grumbled as she patted his back, 'he's got a bloody rotten chest. Have you had the doctor?'

  'It's a long story, Mum.'

  'I bet it bloody is,' Lil replied bluntly. 'Well, me and your father ain't going nowhere so if you have the stamina, we'd like to hear it.'

  Lizzie looked at Ethel and smiled. 'I'll go and see how Bert's doing with the tea, then.'

  'You do that, love. And no hurry,' Lil encouraged as she held her grandson out in front of her. 'Well, there ain't no mistake where this little fella sprang from, is there? He certainly ain't got Richard's fair looks and he don't have no bicycle clips round his ankles.'

  The comment was Lil down to a 'T' and brought a rueful smile to Lizzie's lips as she left the bedroom.

  Chapter 7

  It was late in the day when Lil and Doug joined Lizzie in the kitchen. Downstairs the shop was closing and Lizzie could hear the voices of the departing customers.

  She glanced at Lil who was now looking more her old self. Certainly a good deal better than Doug who sat at the big kitchen table, staring at the cup of cold tea in front of him. Lizzie's heart went out to the man who adored his daughter. He had been in deep distress at the story Ethel had told them.

  'The heartless old mare!' Lil expounded, as she sipped her second port wine from the bottle Lizzie reserved for emergencies. 'To think she forbade our own daughter from seeing us! And Rosie and Timothy, too. If only we'd known! I would have had Ethel and the kids out of there before you could say Jack Robinson. I think we should go over to Lewisham and bring them back to Langley Street where they belong.'

  'You heard what Ethel said,' Doug reproved. 'Rosie and Timothy are settled with Cora. We've got to face facts.'

  'What a load of rubbish!' Lil declared angrily. 'She's keeping them there – like she kept our girl – a prisoner.'

  Lizzie looked at Doug and knew that he had understood all his daughter had said. But Lil still refused to believe that her grandchildren had done nothing to prevent the ousting of their mother and stepbrother. It was this fact that had caught in Lil's craw. The unwelcome news that Rosie and Timothy preferred to live
with Cora than return with their mother, had made her blood boil.

  She was so furious, Lizzie realized, that she had completely let Ethel off the hook for sleeping with Cal Bronga. Lil had always suspected the affair, but now, in Lil's book, what was done was done. It was an anathema to her that her two grandchildren had disowned their own family, her and Doug included.

  Lizzie saw that Lil had readily embraced the new addition; Callum was her grandson and had the Sharpe blood running in his veins. From the moment she had set eyes on him after the initial shock, he was included as part and parcel of her world. What she couldn't accept was the fact that Rosie and Timothy had turned into strangers under the influence of Cora Ryde. And Lil's fury at this knew no bounds.

  'Now, now love,' Doug tried to placate his distraught wife. 'Let's go over the facts nice and calm like.'

  'What facts might they be?' demanded Lil, still fuming.

  'It seems Cora rubbed salt into the wound daily, causing our daughter to believe she was responsible for Richard's death. So she took her revenge by selling the Blackheath house that was never Richard's all along. The fact that it left Ethel and the kids destitute meant they would be forced to turn to her. A big house and all, in a nice area - how could we compete?' Doug shook his head solemnly. 'Unbelievable but true.'

  'Richard lied to Ethel all their married life,' Lil croaked. 'He didn't own the house they were living in. There was no mortgage to pay, no debt. It belonged to Cora all the time. He kept our Ethel short for no reason. She never bought herself anything new and the kids always wore secondhand. It wasn't until she got a job at Rickards that she managed to give them proper school uniforms.'

  'Perhaps it was his way of controlling their lives,' Doug reasoned. 'He was a stickler for things being just so.'

  'You can say that again,' chimed in Lil. 'I'm not speaking ill of the dead when I say he was a funny customer. He never spent time with the kids. He was always on at Ethel over money. And he certainly didn't like her coming to our place. She was always on edge to get home.'

  'That's true, but what I have trouble believing most,' Doug continued, 'is that Cora would try to get Callum taken away. Is that right do you think, Lizzie? I mean, in this day and age, that's outrageous.'

  Lizzie nodded in full agreement. 'It was a choice she gave Ethel to make in front of Rosie and Timothy.'

  'Christ, that's evil!' Lil stared open-mouthed at her husband. 'But Ethel only had to come to us! She knows we would have made room for them all and be happy to do so!'

  Lizzie had no intention of explaining to Lil that Rosie had refused point blank to return to Langley Street. She wouldn't understand that Lewisham, being the classy area it was, held a strong appeal for her grandchildren; houses boasting at least three bedrooms, some as many as five like Cora's, completely detached from their neighbours. All had leafy rear gardens and there wasn't a backyard, closet or broken shed between them. The two teenagers had their own rooms and as much freedom as they wanted. It was clear to Lizzie that Cora was using this to win over Timothy and Rosie. It was a crafty but clever move.

  'Well, I don't intend to let my grandchildren be influenced by a scheming old witch and her lolly,' Lil declared firmly.

  'Lil, Ethel is thirty-five, love, not thirteen,' reasoned Doug. 'She's a woman for heaven's sake. She don't want us to interfere.'

  'You can stuff that!' Lil exclaimed. 'Someone has to put Cora bloody Ryde in her place. My nature is to strike back at anyone who hurts me or mine. Gawd knows what she's planting into Timothy and Rosie's heads.' Lil slung the port down her throat and stared morosely at her empty glass.

  'Have you considered that a confrontation would play into Cora's hands?' Doug said after a moment's thought. 'Rosie and Timothy have a bit of nous for the nicer things in life. You know how Timothy takes after his dad; everything proper and in its place. While Rosie's got this job in Lewisham. The girl must have made friends and by all accounts is doing well. What have we got to offer as an alternative?'

  Lil's breath caught in her throat, her eyes a little glassy from the alcohol. 'Christ Doug, you make us sound like bloody paupers! Our grandkids ain't snobs, if that's what you're driving at.'

  'I'm not saying they are,' Doug retaliated. 'But Rosie and Timothy are being treated like royalty. They are also still grieving for their dad and angry at Ethel. Now, anything adverse you do or say in front of them will play to Cora's strengths. She will look the innocent once again.'

  'So, what do you suggest we do, brain-of-Britain?' Lil's black, pencilled eyebrows shot up fiercely.

  'My feeling is we need to get our timing right. Be patient, wait on the sidelines. Because there's sure to be an eruption one day. They're gonna miss their mum after the shine wears off. And, we'll be there for them when they need us.'

  'But they don't need us now. Is that what you're telling me?' Lil was close to tears once again. 'After all the years I've looked after them, changed their nappies and wiped the snot from their noses, you're saying we ain't good enough?'

  Doug put his arm around his wife and drew her close. Lizzie felt the tears spring to her own eyes. Like Lil, she was devastated to think that Rosie and Timothy were not here now, supporting Ethel no matter what she had done.

  Lil blew her nose on Doug's proffered handkerchief. She nervously touched her hair. 'I just feel so ruddy powerless,' she confessed. 'Our hands are tied. Having survived over half a century on this earth, that's a feeling I'm unaccustomed to.'

  'You'd fight to the death to protect your family, we all know that,' said Lizzie soothingly. 'But I have to agree with Doug and Ethel on this one.'

  The room was quiet once again, with only the noises of the shop drifting up from below.

  'My poor bleeding Ethel,' Lil sniffed. 'She had so much to give to the world once. Now look at the poor bitch. Saddled with a fatherless kid and an old woman in looks. Where did life start to go wrong for her? Was it me? Did I push her into marrying Richard? Was it my fault things have turned out the way they have?'

  'Course not, love,' Doug replied firmly. 'After we lost Neil and Greg, perhaps we loved her too much. Worried too much. We thought marriage to a boy she'd grown up with and who we knew well, was safest all round. But maybe we didn't give Ethel a chance to try to find her feet in the world.'

  Lizzie admired Doug's reasoning and it seemed to have a calming effect on Lil, too.

  'It's your new grandson who needs you now,' Lizzie pointed out. 'He's sick, but if I call the doctor, I'm afraid of upsetting Ethel all the more. As you know, she's terrified the authorities will take Callum away from her.'

  'Over my dead body,' said Lil, perking up.

  'They can't do that,' Doug muttered indignantly. 'Not without good reason. Ethel might have made a mistake in her marriage but that don't mean she's a bad mother. Now, either we've got to call the doctor in without her knowing or think of something pretty quick to get that little boy back to good health.'

  Lil grabbed hold of Lizzie's arm. 'You said you've given Callum a dose of the Friar's Balsam. Is it helping?'

  'I think so.'

  'That's good. Now, there's an old trick that me and your mum used for you kids,' Lil reflected. 'Whenever you had a cold we'd give you a couple of drops of raw onion juice added to a teaspoon of cod liver oil.'

  Lizzie smiled. 'Now you mention it, I remember. It tasted vile, but Ma swore by it.''

  'And there's another thing we can do …' Lil slipped into her natural nurturing role, reeling off the remedies that they might attempt before calling in the doctor.

  Whether or not they would work, was anyone's guess, but Lizzie was happy to try. Lil was in her element. And that was good news all round; especially for Ethel.

  Chapter 8

  Polly was sitting on the edge of Ethel's bed as she held Callum, running her fingers through his abundance of silky black hair. This performance was a morning ritual now as Ethel prepared his breakfast in the kitchen. For the past two weeks Polly had been inseparable from Callum and Liz
zie knew their bond was deepening. Polly was up early every morning before school to nurse him and when she came home, she gave him small amounts of mashed food for his tea. Polly's love and attention knew no bounds and the little boy had responded.

  From under her mass of tumbling auburn curls, Polly looked up at Lizzie with wide, turquoise-blue eyes. 'Callum's nearly better, Auntie Lizzie. Can he live with us?'

  Lizzie sat beside her niece and smiled. 'Lil and Doug want their grandson home.'

  Polly sighed. 'I love babies.'

  Lizzie watched as Callum clutched Polly's finger and blew bubbles. His huge dark eyes were fixed on the little girl who adored him.

  'Was I as small as him once?' Polly asked curiously.

  'You were - and very beautiful.'

  'Then why did my mum go away? Auntie Ethel wouldn't leave Callum, would she?'

  Lizzie slipped her arm around her ward's shoulders. Polly was growing fast. In December she would be eight but revealing the truth of her mother's rejection was more than Lizzie could ever bring herself to do. If only Babs had tried harder to care for Polly who had turned out to be the spitting image of Babs. Like her mother, Polly had masses of copper-coloured curls bouncing over her shoulders. Even the freckles sprinkled over the neat little nose, reminded Lizzie of Babs. But Polly had inherited her father's blue eyes and when they looked at her, Lizzie could see the man that Frank might have been, had he stuck to the straight and narrow. Polly had always known him as her 'Uncle Frank', thankfully unaware of the fact that Frank and Babs's wild affair many years ago had resulted in her conception.

  'Your mum left you in our care,' Lizzie answered, careful to choose the right words. 'That is, me and your Auntie Flo and Uncle Bert. She knew we would look out for you while she was away.'

  'Will she ever come back?'

  'I hope so,' Lizzie replied as she had many times before, though now the question was coming more frequently. 'But sometimes people have to follow their dreams.'