by Carol Rivers
'Did Frank tell you?'
'He said he's a smart dresser.'
Lizzie couldn't help herself and laughed. 'What Salvo Vella wears is the least of our problems.'
Gertie frowned as she sliced the fruit cake. 'The bugger sounds a handful. I hope Frank can handle it. He's not got a lot of bottle.'
'That's why I hired protection.'
'A bloke named Murphy?' Gertie asked, narrowing her beady brown eyes. 'The Irishman who got you and Danny out of hot water at Chancel Lane?'
'Yes, the very same.'
Gertie put down the knife and looked out of the window. Very slowly, she turned back to Lizzie. 'Straight up, gel, does this Murphy mean something to you? Is he the reason why our Danny strayed?'
Lizzie took a sharp breath. 'Whatever gave you that idea?'
'I put two and two together.'
'It's true I've done business with Murphy since Chancel Lane,' Lizzie admitted. 'Without his men, we wouldn't stand a chance of keeping the Mill Wall clean. Frank is vulnerable as both you and me know. But Murphy is a friend who I trust. And without Danny's help, I need one. So does Frank. Believe me, Gertie, whatever the grapevine says, you have heard the truth from me.'
Gertie nodded. 'That's all I wanted to hear, love.'
Just then Frank came in with Polly. Their faces were rosy and flushed. Lizzie found herself thinking for the first time, two peas in a pod. Polly, as a younger child, was like Babs, all big brown eyes and curly auburn hair. But now, as she was growing older, she was changing. Her expression was Frank's, his wide smile and charm. The resemblance was unmistakable.
'Who's for a game of hide and seek?' Frank said enthusiastically.
'Me!' cried Polly. 'Oh, Uncle Frank, I love it when we hide upstairs.'
Gertie chuckled as she looked across the table. 'First, sit down and eat your tea.'
Everyone gathered in the kitchen; the stout and sherry appeared from the cupboard. Glasses were filled to the brim, except for Frank's who drank lemonade with Polly.
Lizzie saw that Gertie was in a better mood now. Her eyes never left Frank, who was happy to be the centre of everyone's attention.
'Can we play hide-and-seek now, Uncle Frank?' Polly asked, as she finished eating. 'There's a lot of creepy, dark rooms upstairs.'
'Blimey, gel,' gasped Frank, downing the last of his lemonade, 'you'll have to hold me hand or I'll get the collywobbles.'
'Don't be daft, Uncle Frank!' Polly giggled until tears rolled down her cheeks.
Lizzie was looking at Gertie who couldn't take her proud gaze from Frank. Now she knew that her beloved boy had been accepted back in the family, she was content. In Gertie's eyes at least, he was a reformed character, and no one could tell her any different.
Chapter 30
Lizzie was sitting quietly in the kitchen at Ebondale Street. She was pleased to be home at last, after the long day at Bill and Gertie's. Bert had retired early and Frank had surprised her, calling by to say goodnight to Polly.
His deep voice echoed from the bedroom as he read to Polly and Lizzie's mind wandered. The peaceful atmosphere was very different to the past. There were very few happy memories of the time when she and Frank had lived here as man and wife. What little joy there was in the marriage, had soon vanished. For Frank's involvement with crooks and bookies had left them almost destitute. Had it not been for Bill standing by her, then she may not only have lost her livelihood but Polly, too.
Now, all these years later, it was difficult to believe that Frank was so changed. Not that she dared to trust him again. But seeing him through Polly's eyes, had allowed the bad memories to fade.
'Pol's nodded off,' a voice said, jarring her suddenly back to the present. She glanced up to see Frank watching her, hovering at the kitchen door. 'I better be on my way, I suppose?'
It was more a question than a statement. Lizzie nodded to the teapot. 'There's a fresh brew on the table before you leave, if you want one.'
'Never say no to a cuppa,' he replied and pulled out a chair.
Lizzie poured two cups and they sat without speaking. She wondered if her smiling husband could remember the unhappiness he'd brought to her here. Or if he'd turned a page on the past, rewriting history with his own version.
When at last she met his eyes, she saw a reflection of Polly again, and her heart softened. Yet a chill swept over her.
'Like old times,' he said, turning his cup on the saucer. 'Sitting here, in the kitchen with you.'
'When did you ever do that?' she asked. 'You preferred the whorehouse, the pub or the bookies.'
This stung and she saw him pale. 'Christ Lizzie, I'm sorry. You know I had a screw loose. It took all them months in the loony bin to get rid of the - '
'Voices,' Lizzie provided. 'Yes, I know, Frank. You've told me many times they were responsible for the bad things you did. But what if these voices of yours come back again? It's Polly I worry about.'
'I've got them conquered now. I take proper pills from the 'ospital. I've chucked the booze and the last time I went with a woman - '
'Frank, I want you to be happy. I don't ask you to live like a hermit.'
'That little girl in there is my daughter,' he said and cleared his throat. 'She's changed my life. And you have.'
Lizzie felt the tears sting. This man was her husband. She'd made her vows to him and had thought she could learn to care. But perhaps he had always known that she could never love him like she loved Danny.
'You're still the only gel for me,' he murmured. 'I know I've put you through hell and I don't expect you to understand why I lost me marbles. I don't even know myself. I'm a bloody freak of nature. Yet you've given me a chance at the pub and I'll not let you down. I'm no hero, but I want to do it right this time. I'm giving it all I got.'
For all his failings, Lizzie thought sadly, Frank knew himself and freely admitted his faults. Could she say the same of herself? She loved Danny but had never thought he would leave her. She'd imagined they would always be together. How wrong she was.
She smiled to herself at the ironies of life. Danny had gone and instead it was Frank who remained. Perhaps that was why she was sitting here now and why she had never divorced him.
'Frank, we were over after Polly was born.'
'I don't even remember when me and Babs - ' He stopped, shamefaced. 'I didn't know what I was doing.'
'But I did. I can forgive you for Polly's sake. Because you and Babs made a beautiful, innocent child who has given me so much happiness. But as for the past, I still can't forget.'
'I know. That's why I'm trying so hard … to prove to you - ' He reached for her hand and drew it towards him. 'To prove I love you.' Before she could catch her breath, he kissed her, a kiss that brought back so much and made her feel achingly vulnerable. A kiss that was not like the kisses he had once demanded at the start of their marriage, but now, a gentler, tender offering that made her shiver with regret.
She pulled away. 'Frank, I think you should go.'
'Let me stay a bit longer. I was someone else all those years ago. I've changed.'
'And I have too, Frank.'
'Is it still Danny?' he asked.
She did not answer and he nodded, heaving a sigh as he rose slowly to his feet. His blue eyes were full of remorse and his shoulders slumped. Then turning slowly at the door, he held out his palms. 'I've got nothing to offer you, Lizzie, not like Danny has. But I won't run out on you or the pub and that's a promise.'
'I'll expect you to keep it, Frank.'
His lips parted on a hesitant grin. 'You deserve your pound of flesh, and I'm willing to give it.'
She listened to his footsteps on the stairs and heard the click of the storeroom door below.
Her thoughts and body felt numb. Frank was a reminder of the past, for good and for bad. He was a man she kept at arm's length and yet in some way they were still attached.
Lizzie went downstairs and drew the bolt on the storeroom door. Then she returned to sit by the fire
. The Christmas decorations spread gaily around her, yet it was the end of another year. 1934 had brought many surprises, some welcome and some not. Was she so starved of affection that she had allowed Frank to kiss her?
Her thoughts turned to Salvo Vella. Was the danger over? A new year would soon be dawning. The year had ended without seeing Danny. Was the old saying true? Absence makes the heart grow fonder.
Her eyes closed in the warmth and she fell asleep.
Chapter 31
Christmas was over – almost – and Danny sighed with relief. Just one last excursion and it would all be over.
'We'll meet some very important people tonight, Daniel,' April enthused. 'I'm so proud of you. I want to show you off.' She was about to kiss him when Tom walked in.
'Can I stay home?'
'No, Tom,' April replied. 'Get dressed now.'
'Tom, go along, there's a good lad,' Danny urged gently for he knew how Tom must be feeling. Christmas had been a whirl of engagements with people they hardly knew.
'Tom's been left to run wild,' April complained when they were alone. 'Although you are a very capable father, he needs a firm hand.'
Though Danny didn't regret for one minute his decision to adopt and raise Tom, at times he had felt inadequate as a father. Though there had been Lizzie and Pol. Had things been different, they would be a family by now.
Danny pushed the thought from his mind. Putting on his coat he waited alone in the car, soothed by the familiar leathery smell of the interior. Yet much to his annoyance he couldn't escape the memories of Christmases past.
Half an hour later they arrived at the Murdoch' house in Granter Square. He shook hands with any amount of Gerald Murdoch's colleagues all of who worked in the City. Stockbrokers, bankers and investors, financiers who gave a wink and nod over their whisky. Most of the exchanges had gone over his head. Even the expensive wine at dinner had not eased the boredom.
We could be a million miles away from home, he thought as he watched Tom perched on a seat in the corner. The Murdoch's boy, Ralph, was standing a few feet away with his friends. Every now and then Tom met Danny's gaze with an imploring look. It took all his willpower to resist making an excuse to leave the Murdoch's. But how could he let April down?
At last the guests began to leave. But not before Gerald Murdoch insisted on giving them a tour of the house. Up and down all five floors they marched, with an anecdote on each!
Finally, it was time to go. Danny saw that April was flushed with excitement as she sat beside him in the car. She looked a picture of elegance in her long dress, with her crepe-de-chine stole folded over her shoulders. She gazed up at him with such gratitude that this seemed to make all the effort worthwhile.
'What a wonderful evening we spent at the Murdoch's,' she cried. 'Edith has promised to give me the name of her decorator when we move to our new house. We're sure of a discount if Edith puts in a good word.'
'A little way off yet,' Danny replied amiably. 'But yes, it was kind of her.'
'Dad,' said Tom from the rear seat, 'I don't want to move.'
'We shan't yet, son. Not for a while.'
'Tom,' said April firmly, 'don't pester your father.'
Danny looked in his driving mirror at the pale face solemnly regarding him. 'Really, Tom, nothing is settled yet.'
'I don't want to go to boarding school either,' pleaded Tom. 'Especially the one that Ralph and them kids go to.'
At this, April interrupted. 'Ralph Murdoch was very kind to you, Tom. He included you with his friends – his manners are impeccable. Edith thinks he is very bright and might even go to Oxford.'
Tom mumbled under his breath. 'They said they're gonna keep me under a cold shower till I freeze.'
'Tom,' laughed April dismissively, 'it was only a joke. It's upper-crust humour, that's all. You'll soon get to understand, my dear.'
Tom wriggled to the edge of the seat. 'Don't send me away, Dad,' he begged. 'I promise to mind me manners.'
'We'll discuss this later,' said April curtly. 'Now sit back on the seat or we'll have an accident.'
Danny heard the choked sob of his son. He knew that he would have to harden his heart and hope that as time went on and Tom would adapt to their new way of life. He'd brought Tom up on the land, living rough and ready and without the respectability that gave a man his standing in society. April was right. He could no longer let Tom run wild. His life would take a different turn when he left Ebondale Street and Danny knew it would not be easy at first. But with April's guidance his son would have the education and standing that would make him a good fit in society.
He glanced at April now and saw the clean cut of her face. Neither handsome, nor plain, but proud and resilient. It could not be easy for her to take on another woman's child. She was trying her best, he knew.
After supper, when Tom had gone to bed, April kissed Danny lightly. 'I think I shall retire too,' she told him. 'Tomorrow there's early communion. I think I shall go. Will you and Tom come with me?'
Danny held her in his arms and smiled. 'Yes, why not?'
'Don't stay up too long, Daniel.' She kissed him again, fully on the mouth and pressed herself against him. 'I've turned down your bedcovers.' She looked into his eyes and stroked the hair from his forehead, her fingers glancing his scar. 'Sleep well, dearest.'
'April - '
She placed her fingers over his mouth. 'Hush. Not tonight Daniel.'
He sighed, for he had been about to dip in his pocket for that velvet box.
Danny watched her leave the room. The light from the lamp flickered over her straight-backed figure, her elegant poise and composure. Listening to her footsteps, he heard her go up the stairs. Did she think of her late husband, George, when she lay alone in bed?
Danny admired and respected her. He was grateful for the guidance she gave to Tom. For Danny felt himself ignorant in the world of educated men and women. Wealth had brought him many opportunities, but if he were not to take them, then what would his struggles have been for. April fitted well into this new way of life. For Tom's future, Danny wanted more than he had ever wanted for himself.
He eased himself into the comfortable fireside chair and stared into the dying embers of the fire. The soft orange glow gave the room a solid feel; carefully arranged drapes and embroidered soft furnishings were all of April's choosing. He thought again of his predecessor George Williams. An older man, he had been an executive with the railways. Danny knew that April had suffered when he'd lost money in the Depression. Forced to sell their Hampstead home, they had moved to the better part of Poplar and this villa. But the couple remained childless. April had never spoken of wanting a family. Yet Danny hoped for children to complete his family. He yearned for the close ties that he'd had with Lizzie and Pol.
'Dad?' The soft whisper came as the door opened. 'I can't sleep.'
Danny's heart clenched as he saw his son's pale face and hollowed eyes. 'Tom, my boy, what's up?'
'Has Aunt April gone to bed?'
'Yes, she has.'
Tom stumbled over and Danny reached out, hauling him into his arms.
'Can I stay with you for a while?' Tom curled himself into Danny's lap.
'Is something worrying you?'
'Are you going to work tomorrow?'
'Perhaps, in the afternoon.'
'Can I go with you? I could wash the cars like I did at the garage. Bring 'em up all nice and shiny. That's what I want to do when I leave school Dad, sell cars like you.'
Danny pushed back his unruly blond hair that April insisted on combing neatly with a centre parting. 'Selling cars is not a sound job, Tom.'
'But you like it.'
'I can do nothing else.'
'You can mend engines,' Tom said proudly. 'You taught me to mend 'em too, remember? I don't have to go to boarding school for that.'
Danny pressed the damp hair away from Tom's blue eyes and grinned. 'We're both a bit out of our depth in these new circles.'
'I didn't like i
t at the Murdoch's, Dad.'
Danny heaved a soft sigh. 'Aunt April is trying her best for us.'
'I wish we was at Auntie Lizzie's,' said Tom holding his arms tight around Danny's neck. 'It don't seem like Christmas without Pol.'
Danny threw caution to the wind and said, 'Chin up now. I'll take you to Island Gardens tomorrow, after communion.'
'Do we have to go to church?'
'Best we do, Tom.'
Danny held his son closely, feeling the bump on his hip of the small velvet box in his pocket, that he had yet to give to April.
Part II
April 1935
Chapter 32
Lizzie was standing in the snug of the Mill Wall as Bert restored order to the public bar. The broken chairs and tables had been thrown out, and most of the shattered glass and sawdust was swept into soggy piles. After the long quiet of three months, Salvo Vella had left his calling card.
'We was caught unawares,' said Frank beside her, with one eye completely closed under a purple swelling above his bloodied nose. He looked downwards to pull together the torn sides of his jacket.
'Are you hurt?' she asked in concern as a thread of blood oozed from his ruffled hair.
'The buggers did us over,' he growled as he inspected his buttonless waistcoat. 'This suit cost me a fortune.'
Lizzie she felt a moment's sympathy as he dabbed at his head with a bloodied handkerchief. Even though Whippet had pedalled as fast as he could to alert her, Vella's thugs had long since departed.
'We wasn't expecting it,' he continued wearily. 'There's been no trouble since last year; not what you'd call trouble. Just incidents, like. A few tarts try their luck and before you know it, they're on the pull. Then there's he usual effing and blinding when they're shown the door. But not real aggro.'
'Are you certain they were Vella's women?' Lizzie enquired.
'Not stab-meself-in-the-heart certain,' replied Frank, running his tongue of his swollen lip. 'But they are crafty as a cartload of monkeys. They snuck in today when the geezer on the door was having a pee. Now, if I was a betting man, which as you know, I ain't, I'd put a pound on them watching this place.'
