Lizzie Flowers and the Family Firm: The long-awaited third book in the gritty Lizzie Flowers East End saga series.

by Carol Rivers

  Chapter 43

  The news that Lizzie was dreading came a week later. The same policeman who called before, arrived at the shop. He dismounted from his bicycle, strode in and took an official looking document from his breast pocket.

  'This is from the coroner's office,' he boomed.

  Bert peered over Lizzie's shoulder. 'What does it say?'

  'We have to attend an inquest,' Lizzie explained and sank down on a stool. Her knees felt very weak.

  'Why?' demanded Bert.

  The policeman shifted from foot to foot. 'The fire investigators have found some remains.'

  'Is it Madge?' cried Lizzie.

  'You'll have to wait till the inquest to find out.' The policeman snatched back the paper. 'Anyone who can shed light on the matter has got to give evidence.'

  'Did you ask Elsie Booth to attend?' Lizzie enquired.

  'She's been shown the letter, same as you. Maintains she wasn't at the bakery that day. We went after the missing son too. There's no trace of him either. As for the survivor in hospital, we took her statement, but that was no help as she don't remember nothing.'

  'It's a ruddy miracle she's even alive!' Bert cast the broom angrily aside. 'Don't go pestering my Jenny again!'

  'We are only doing our duty,' the constable answered fearfully, backing away from the threatening figure.

  'What if someone started the fire on purpose?' yelled Bert, his anger overwhelming him. 'You should be trying to find them.'

  'Are you making an accusation?' the policeman ventured.

  'What if I was?' Bert challenged. 'I might be!'

  'Then I suggest you come down the station and bring your evidence with you.'

  Bert looked so red in the face that the copper hurried out of the door and jumped on his bike.

  Lizzie sank down on the stool. 'Bert, you shouldn't have said that. Without Elsie voluntarily giving evidence, there's nothing we can do.'

  'I know. But I lost me rag.'

  Lizzie thought of the terrible death that Madge might have suffered. How would the coroner identify Madge? Would anyone ever know for sure?'

  'Listen, Lizzie,' Bert said desperately as he pulled up another stool and sat beside her. 'I've been thinking. Maybe Danny's got a point about leaving. No reason why we couldn't start afresh somewhere else.'

  'What, you'd leave the island?' Lizzie said in great surprise.

  'It's not too late to get shot of the Mill Wall.' Bert lifted his great shoulders. 'Or the shop. I mean, it's not out of the question …'

  'Do you really mean that Bert?'

  Suddenly he growled like a big bear and closed his eyes tight. When he opened them, Lizzie could see the hurt, anger and confusion in them.

  'Oh, Bert, don't be upset. If you want to leave the East End, then so be it.'

  'You'd do that for me?'

  Lizzie nodded slowly. 'You are the only one in the world I would do it for, if it means that much to you. We are brother and sister, but sometimes I think we're joined at the hip. We think and work the same way. You are my best friend and closest ally. There's never been an occasion that you've let me down.'

  Bert gave her a long stare, then slowly shook his head. 'I dunno what I'm saying, gel. Vella is messing with me mind. It's just that I can't get hold of him and knock seven bells out of the bugger. But I know I couldn't live with meself if I quit now.'

  'Are you sure?'

  Bert grinned and wiped the moisture from his eyes with his big fingers. 'Dunno what got into me. It's Jenny, I think. Seeing her in that 'ospital bed day after day, with all her lovely hair gone.'

  'She will get well, Bert.'

  'I know, gel. I want to make good for her. Settle down, have a family. And I want to do it here, on the island.' Bert tilted back his cap and looking directly at Lizzie, he said in a heartier voice, 'How much have we left in the kitty?'

  Lizzie shrugged. 'Enough for a rainy day.'

  'Let's get our thinking caps on. The bakery's a write-off. But that don't mean to say we can't try our luck with something else. And to hell with Vella!'

  Lizzie heard Maurice and Ron coming in from the backyard and whispered, 'we'll talk later tonight.'

  Bert nodded, a wide grin parting his lips.

  Chapter 44

  It was late at night and the interior of the shop was lit by Tilley lamps, shedding a glow over the crates of fruit and vegetables piled high against the walls. The blinds were lowered against the warm May evening and Bert had opened the storeroom door to allow in the breeze.

  Maurice and Ron had left and Lizzie paced slowly up and down, across the gnarled, uneven floorboards. The shop on the corner of Ebondale Street had been part and parcel of the island for over a century. She thought about her father-in-law and the many occasions they had sat talking after a long and tiring day's business. If Bill was here now, he would refuse to be beaten by the likes of Vella and she took comfort from this.

  Bert, with his big hands twisting the brown tobacco into thin papers, crooked an eyebrow as he followed her movements.

  'We can sit tight and wait for Vella's next move,' Lizzie suggested as she paused her movements. 'Or we can take action. You and me cut our teeth in the East End. We know that when one door closes another opens.'

  'I'm glad to hear you say that, gel.'

  '1935 is a good time to be in business,' Lizzie continued. 'This month the King and Queen are celebrating their Silver Jubilee. It's a very special year.'

  Bert's smile widened. 'I'm with you all the way, gel.'

  'Time to talk to family.'

  Lizzie had an idea forming. But it would take a great deal of planning with the help of those she knew she could trust.

  Chapter 45

  It was Monday 6th May and the King and Queen's Silver Jubilee. Bert was driving Lizzie and Polly to Langley Street to celebrate. On every street in the East End there was a party planned. The kids had been given a day off school while the men climbed ladders to string bunting from roof to roof. The women were setting out the buffets on the long tables beneath, shoved end to end and laden with food.

  Bert nudged the Wolseley into the gutter and Polly bounced excitedly on the back seat. 'Oh, Auntie Lizzie, I won't have to stay inside today, will I?'

  'No,' Lizzie assured her as they clambered out of the car. Every front door was open, spilling out children of all ages. Lizzie knew she couldn't keep Polly inside any longer.

  'Auntie Flo, when are we going to the party?' Polly asked when Flo appeared on the doorstep.

  'Very soon, ducks. Now run along to the front room with your Uncle Bert and see Nelson.'

  When they were alone Flo lowered her voice. 'Lizzie, I wanted to break the news to you the other day, but Syd said he told you already.'

  'Yes,' Lizzie replied in a hushed whisper. 'What was the doctor's verdict?'

  'I'm three months gone,' explained Flo. 'The baby's due in October.'

  'I'm very happy for you, Flo.'

  'But Syd is out of a job. He packed in the scrapyard, though the cops think he was doing a bunk after Walter and Clifford were collared.'

  'Have they questioned Syd?'

  'Yes. It was awful, but he'll probably tell you all about that. My big problem is we don't have no money coming in and we'll soon have another mouth to feed. Oh, Lizzie, it's all getting on top of me.'

  'It's not the end of the world, Flo.' Lizzie squeezed her sister's arm. 'I'll see you never go short. Now, come on, cheer up, you are a mother-to-be. What better news is there, than that?'

  Flo sniffed. 'Here's me, going on about my own troubles when what happened at the bakery was terrible. Is Jenny still in hospital?'

  'Yes, Bert visits every day.'

  'What about Madge?'

  'Still no news. They're holding an inquest soon as they've found some remains.'

  Flo gasped. 'How can they tell if it's Madge?'

  'I don't know. But who else can it be?'

  'She was such a nice little woman.'

  Once a
gain Lizzie felt guilty over Madge's death.

  'Let's forget about our troubles and put out the food,' Flo suggested eagerly. 'The King and Queen will be celebrating today and so should we.'

  It didn't take long before the Sharpes arrived with Ethel and Callum. They brought trays piled high with salt-beef sandwiches, pickles and crusty pies. Union Jack flags were stretched over the tables directly outside the front doors. One by one, the plates were added to the newspaper party hats and homemade crackers.

  Lizzie could barely hear herself think. The children's screams of delight were deafening. The racket echoed up to the rooftops, together with a pounding on an old piano that had been carted out into the street. The flags and bunting waved in the breeze as the nation celebrated twenty-five years of the King's rein.

  The beer flowed freely. More sandwiches were cut to replace the ones gobbled up by the kids. Then came the jellies, jam sponges, ice creams and lollies. Tummies were filled to bursting point.

  After bawling out, 'God Save the King' many times over, the men cleared the tables, leaving room for the dancing. More patriotic songs were belted out on the piano. The children hurled themselves into the fray and the adults began to drink in earnest.

  Lizzie watched Polly as she played with the other children. She looked so pretty in her pink party dress with her long copper ringlets bouncing over her shoulders. Nelson, up to mischief as usual, seemed to be twice as wide as he had been only a week ago. He was pushing and shoving with the best of them, using his strong arms and sturdy legs to fight off the competition. Callum at fifteen months was as tall as Nelson but very slight. He sat on his grandmother's doorstep, his big, dark eyes fixed on the children at play. Every now and then Polly would run up and cuddle him as Nelson received more than one clout round the ear from his mother.

  It was late afternoon by the time the women left the kids to enjoy themselves. The men soon followed and tea was served indoors.

  Lizzie was joined by Ethel on the settee, who gave a noticeable sigh. 'It worries me that Callum doesn't join in with the other kids.'

  'He's just a toddler yet.'

  'I forget his age because he's so tall,' Ethel agreed wistfully.

  'Just like his father,' remarked Lizzie. 'Have you thought about writing to Cal?'

  Ethel shrugged. 'What good would it do? If he was interested, he would have written to me. I wonder if Rosie and Timothy are celebrating like we are?'

  Lizzie couldn't help but grin. 'I can't imagine Cora enjoying a knees-up.'

  This brought a reluctant smile from Ethel.

  Just then, Lil called from the kitchen. 'The booze is served! We'll toast the King and Queen again before we go out.'

  The off-the-back-of-a-lorry bottles of stout, sherry and gin flowed into glasses, mugs and any free receptacle.

  'To King George and Queen Mary!' everyone shouted, after which they all sat down again, exhausted.

  'Well, Syd,' said Doug after a brief respite, 'did you have any luck at Billingsgate?'

  'I asked for my old job back, but they knew about my brothers. It was like I had the plague. Everyone steered clear of me.'

  'That don't seem fair,' said Bert staunchly. 'It wasn't you who clocked the guard.'

  'Course it's not bloody fair,' agreed Flo plonking herself down beside Ethel. 'But Syd is tarred with the same brush as the rest of the Millers. If he had stayed away from his perishing family, none of this would have happened.'

  Syd looked critically at his wife. 'You didn't complain while I was bringing in the money.'

  'No, because it made up for my rotten in-laws.'

  'Have they charged Walter and Clifford?' Lizzie asked.

  'Yes, with burglary and GBH,' growled Syd. 'They've been refused bail as the guard is fighting for his life.'

  'That's the kind of people Syd's relatives are,' said Flo accusingly. 'We were foolish enough to believe they were going straight. When all the time they were using Syd as a front.'

  'I'm sorry, Syd,' Lizzie said genuinely.

  'And that's not the end of it,' Flo continued relentlessly. 'Tell 'em, Syd.'

  Syd gazed down at his empty glass. 'They found more loot hidden at the scrapyard.'

  'Did you know it was there?' Lil shouted from the settee as she puffed on her roll-up.

  'No, 'course not,' Syd replied indignantly. 'But that didn't stop the law from carting me down to the station.'

  'It's true,' Flo nodded with tears in her eyes. 'They turned up in a van and shoved Syd inside. I was left to face all the nosey parkers. He should have got out of the Missus's grasp before it was too late.'

  'I tried,' Syd insisted. 'There was always some reason she needed me. But when she told me to lie to the cops and say Clifford and Walter were with me and Flo on the night of the robbery, it was the end of the road.'

  'Christ lad, you wouldn't do that, would you?' said Doug in alarm.

  'No, Doug, 'course I wouldn't. I'm not that much of a sucker.'

  'She wanted to have a hold on us,' Flo said angrily. 'Draw us in so we could never get away.'

  The room fell silent as everyone thought of the outcome of such a possibility.

  'If you don't go back to portering,' Lizzie said, 'what will you do?'

  'I tried the docks,' Syd replied half-heartedly. 'But I'd have to sign on as a casual. The work is very limited.'

  'There's always the factories,' suggested Lil.

  Syd shrugged. 'I went to the rope works and the boiler makers, but they only need skilled workers.'

  Once again, the room was hushed.

  'In that case, I do have an idea,' said Lizzie, breaking the silence.

  'He ain't doing pub work,' Flo cried before Lizzie could explain. 'So, if you're thinking of offering him a job at the Mill Wall - '

  'No,' Lizzie interrupted. 'I wouldn't do that.'

  'It would be like jumping from the frying pan into the fire.'

  Lizzie looked hard at her sister. 'Flo, it don't help you keep criticising. I'm trying to clean up the Mill Wall.'

  'No chance with Frank at the helm,' Flo muttered under her breath.

  'Now the bakery has gone,' Lizzie continued, ignoring the insult, 'me and Bert have decided to start again. Why don't you come in with us, Syd?'

  'We ain't got a penny to spare,' complained her brother-in-law. 'I'm flogging the motor next week just to get us by.'

  'You can chip in later,' Lizzie offered. 'It's manpower we need. Look, we are family. We trust each other. But it's your choice. I'm not twisting your arm.'

  At this, Flo began to look interested. 'What have you in mind?'

  'A decent gaff,' Bert began. 'That we can do up.'

  'A shop, I suppose, to flog more bloody spuds and bananas,' moped Flo.

  'No.' Bert raised his eyebrows. 'A factory.'

  'What!' everyone cried.

  Lizzie turned to Syd. 'You once said if you had the chance you'd leave the scrapyard.'

  'Yes, but I didn't think you took me serious,' Syd protested.

  Lizzie leaned forward. 'It would be a business we could all invest in. If we found an old place near the docks big enough to accommodate equipment.'

  'What sort of equipment?' queried Flo.

  'I'm not sure,' Lizzie said thoughtfully. 'But whatever it is, we need the accounts kept. When you met Syd, you were a clerk at the pickle factory.'

  Flo nodded hesitantly. 'Yes, but I'm a bit rusty on figures.'

  'First I've heard of it,' grumbled Syd. 'There ain't a day goes by without you totting up our expenses.'

  'What about Nelson?' Flo asked ignoring her husband. 'I couldn't let him run loose in a factory. He'd have the whole lot arse upwards.'

  'I'll help,' said Lil suddenly. And everyone turned to stare. 'I mean, Callum and Nelson get on like a house on fire. They'd be no trouble at all.'

  'And if there was any way I could help …?' Ethel murmured.

  'Gawd blimey,' gasped Syd, 'I never thought I'd get a chance like this. Are you sure, Lizzie?'

>   'I wouldn't make the offer, otherwise.'

  'You and me, Syd,' said Bert eagerly, 'we'll do the labouring. If things go well, we'll take on more hands. Doug, would you be up for a few hours supervising?'

  'Me?' said Doug, looking surprised. 'What good would I be?'

  'You're still as sharp as you were when you worked for the PLA. You knew all the rules of the docks. You could liaise with their offices for us. In a sort of advisory capacity. Make sure we keep to the straight and narrow.'

  'Well, I never did,' laughed Doug. He turned to his wife. 'What do you think, Lil?'

  'It would get you out from under my feet for a few hours,' Lil chuckled. 'But where is all this big business going to take place?'

  'The East India Docks,' suggested Lizzie. 'Somewhere like Chandler's Wharf where's there's a lot of factories and warehouses standing empty. It will take time to find the right one. But if everyone is on board, then Bert and me will start looking.'

  'Well now,' said Doug, grinning. 'This is a cause for celebration.'

  'Too true,' cried Lil exuberantly. 'We'll drink to the family firm. Who knows where this could lead?'

  'As long it ain't up the garden path, who cares?' Cried Flo, refreshing the empty glasses.

  'To a new start,' said Syd, lifting his beer.

  'To prosperity and good health,' said Doug.

  'To the family firm,' said Bert and polished off his beer in one.

  After which, everyone else followed suit.

  Lizzie smiled for this was a new start; Salvo Vella had not weakened their spirits, he had strengthened them. Prosperity and good health would not come easily, she knew, but today everyone was happy.

  Chapter 46

  It was early on a fine May day when Danny strolled along the pavement outside his showrooms, nodding to the passers-by as he went. Some of the faces he knew well and after a few cordial nods and greetings, he returned inside, studying the line-up of cars that were now on display. The festivities of the Silver Jubilee were over but there was still a feeling of excitement in the air and the public's mood was buoyant.

  His gaze lingered on a two-tone Cabriolet with a full-length roll-back fabric sunroof that would knock the socks off any competitor's stock in this vicinity. Beside it was parked a sleek tourer, fitted with a twin overhead camshaft and a four-cylinder engine that was top of the range.