Lily of Love Lane (2 page)

‘I warned you not to use the latch, Noah,’ her mother was shouting, ‘when will you remember it sticks?’

‘I never touched it.’

‘And look at you, standing there in your underwear. You’ll catch your death.’

‘Uncle Noah’s going to cook breakfast,’ Lily interrupted quickly before the quarrel developed.

Josie Bright looked horrified. ‘Why should he want to do that?’

‘To help, that’s all.’

‘There’d be a fire before you knew it!’

Her uncle pursed his lips and raked his arthritic fingers through the thin grey strands sticking up from his bald pate. The cast in his left eye gave him the appearance of one large eye,
magnified by the pair of gold-framed pince-nez balanced on his bony nose. ‘Told you she wouldn’t,’ he muttered to Lily.

‘A nice piece of fried bread will do you both good,’ Lily said, taking her mother’s arm and nodding at her uncle. ‘He’s only got to put the bread in the pan and fry
it.’

‘I don’t know about that—’

Lily gave her mother another little push. ‘Now, I’ve lit the fire in the parlour and it needs a bit of encouragement.’

‘Yes, leave it all to me!’ her uncle called after them, lifting the big saucepan down from its hook. ‘Canteen’s open in ten minutes.’

‘He thinks he’s still in the army,’ sighed her mother as they went into the front room. ‘He’ll be having me out on parade soon.’

‘He’s only trying to help.’

‘He might burn the bread.’

‘I doubt it.’

‘Men are useless in the kitchen.’

‘Only because they aren’t given the chance to do something.’

Her mother sighed tiredly. Her once fair hair was scraped back in a bun, revealing fresh worry lines around her eyes. ‘You young women just don’t understand never having been
married.’

‘Well, I hope to have the chance one day.’ Lily didn’t add that looking after her family, and her work at the market, wouldn’t leave much time for a husband.

‘It would be lovely to have some grandchildren,’ Josie nodded thoughtfully. ‘A grandson especially. Your dad would have liked a boy.’ She sat by the fire and sighed
again. ‘But the Good Lord never sent us any more children.’

Lily knew her mum didn’t mean she was dissatisfied with her one daughter, but as a little girl she had had heard this phrase so often she’d tried to be a boy to please her parents.
She was always climbing lampposts and playing football in the street. In spite of this, her tiny frame and long plaits had always made her appear delicate. Eventually Lily had given up struggling
to prove she could do anything a boy could and begun to enjoy being a girl.

‘I’ll put your coat round you till the fire gets going.’ Lily made her mother comfortable in the big armchair. ‘You can give the fire a touch with the poker when
I’m gone.’

‘I wish you was staying home, love.’

‘You’ve got Uncle.’

Her mother smiled ruefully. ‘Indeed I have.’ Josie’s eyes had a twinkle in them as she murmured, ‘Your uncle is a bit of a mischief, ain’t he?’

‘Yes, and we wouldn’t be without him, would we?’

Josie took hold of Lily’s wrist. ‘You’re the only one who can do anything with him, Lily. You could twist him round your finger as a little girl and still can. Remember
when—’

‘Mum, I wish I could stop to talk, but I have to go to work now,’ Lily interrupted. Reube would think she wasn’t going to turn up for work at all.

‘I know. I know.’ Josie reluctantly released her daughter’s arm. ‘Someone in this house has to earn a few pennies and I’m sorry to say it’s always you, love.
You’re a good girl, our Lily. A real good girl.’

‘I’ll see you tonight, Mum.’

‘If I survive.’ But this was said with a smile.

Lily knew the minute she left the house, her mother and uncle would soon be finding ingenious ways to argue. It was an irony, but the two people she loved most in the world other than her dad,
lived to annoy one another. Her dad had always told her it was what kept them going.

Lily pulled her hat and scarf from her pocket. Carefully sliding the blue cloche over her hair, she glanced in the mirror. The cloche was old and she had steamed it back into shape more times
than she could remember, but the colour matched her eyes.

‘Bye, ducks.’

‘Bye, Mum.’

‘Who are you dolling up for, our Lil?’ Uncle Noah caught Lily at the front door. ‘Not some young terrier you’ve got hidden away?’

‘No, Uncle Noah. Just work.’

‘A prince wouldn’t be good enough for our girl. Not unless he had a nice ’orse and cart.’

Lily grinned as she stepped outside. ‘Not many princes own rag and bone carts.’

‘Then theirs is the loss, I say. Now take care of yerself.’

‘Don’t forget to fry Mum some bread.’

‘I’ll give her an egg as well.’

‘We ain’t got none, at least till I’m paid.’

‘I told you we should keep chickens. Had ’em at barracks. Could do the same here.’

Torn between laughter and tears, Lily kissed him goodbye. Her dad had kept chickens in the yard until last year when her uncle had forgotten to lock them away one night. In the morning they were
gone and no one ever found out who took them, or more to the point, who ate them.

‘I’m going now. Goodbye, Uncle.’

Lily didn’t breathe a sigh of relief until she turned into Manchester Road.

Lily arrived at market out of breath. She had run most of the way and being Friday, it was very busy already. All the stalls were surrounded by shoppers. Cox Street Market was
the last port of call before Poplar, the tiny hamlet next to the Isle of Dogs. People were out and about after being confined to home over Christmas. The kids still hadn’t returned to school
and were playing amongst the stalls or gathered under the railway arches nearby. Since the end of the war in 1918, the market community at Cox Street had thrived.

But it wasn’t Reube James who Lily saw behind the stall this morning, it was Ben, his brother. His tall, slim figure, quite the opposite to Reube’s short and stocky build, was busy
putting out the items for sale. A large iron bedstead stood as a backdrop, in front of which were two brass candlesticks, half a dozen rolls of brightly coloured cloth, a battered brass coal
scuttle and fender and a dozen other objects piled beside it. The smaller items were placed on top of the stall: saucepans, tarnished silver cutlery, bone-handled carving knives, old leather boots,
a multitude of umbrellas, walking sticks and chinaware.

As Lily approached a young girl passed by, smiling at Ben. He was very quick to smile back, calling out, ‘Can I interest you in anything this morning, Miss? Got a lovely bargain here
– a quarter of the price to you.’ He held out a large feather duster, and the girl went away laughing.

‘A married man like you with six starving kids to feed should be ashamed of yourself,’ Lily teased as she walked up. He wasn’t married or even attached, but Lily enjoyed the
fun. They had known each other so many years, he was like her older brother.

Ben removed a carnation from his buttonhole and slid it under the ribbon of her hat. ‘I was just getting into me patter an’ all.’ He was over six foot tall and lean as a
beanpole. When he smiled, he showed lovely white teeth and employed his quick, cockney wit to charm the females. At twenty-six, two years younger than Reube, he drove a big, dirty lorry, delivering
to all corners of the country.

‘Get your beauty sleep, did you?’ he asked with a chuckle.

‘Sorry I’m late. Uncle Noah got stuck in the closet again. Dad hasn’t had time to fix it.’ This was half a truth as her father wasn’t very quick at repairs.

‘I’ll pop across with me tools. Won’t take long and it gives me a chance to see you.’ He winked flirtatiously, his grey eyes sparkling with humour as he took out a comb
and ran it threw his thick brown hair. As the James’ lived across the road, Ben often helped her dad out with repairs.

She touched the flower in her hat. ‘Don’t try your patter on me, it’s wasted.’

‘Why’s that?’

‘Your head is big enough. I can see it growing by the minute.’

‘Me?’ he spluttered. ‘I’m the modest type, I am.’ He elbowed Lily gently. ‘In fact I’m fading away from being ignored.’

‘You? Ignored? Don’t make me laugh.’

‘You’re lovely when you laugh.’

Lily rolled her eyes. ‘Why isn’t your brother here?’ Ben sometimes stood in for his brother if he wasn’t busy with his lorry.

‘He’s gone to buy stock. Hattie got the day off and went with him.’

Lily removed her hat and tucked it under the stall, shaking her hair loose. ‘She didn’t tell me she had a day off.’

Ben tapped the side of his nose. ‘She’s got a toothache. The sort that needs urgent attention.’

‘Oh!’ Lily smiled as the penny dropped. ‘That sort of toothache.’

Lily knew it was unlikely that Madame Nerys, Hattie’s boss, would be so generous as to give her a day off right after Christmas. Hattie worked in a prestigious dressmakers at Aldgate and
had a responsible job, cutting the patterns. Hattie was very good at this and Madame Nerys paid her well, but she made sure that Hattie worked hard for the money.

‘Anyway,’ said Ben, giving another wink to Lily, ‘Reube and Hat seem to be rubbing along all right, don’t they?’

Lily nodded as she reflected over the Christmas holiday. Apart from Christmas morning when the Parks and the Brights had walked to church together, she hadn’t seen much of Hattie. Reube
and Hattie had spent a lot of time going to the cinema to watch the new talkies. Living in the same road, she and Hattie and Ben and Reube had known each other all their lives. The James boys were
older by six and eight years, but not a lot wiser, her mum always joked. Reube and Hattie shared a mutual interest in the cinema whilst Lily occasionally accompanied Ben to a dance, but he was too
much of a flirt to take seriously. Now Lily wondered whether the reason Hattie was saving up so hard was to get married.

‘Here, take a gander at this,’ Ben lifted a large white chamber pot from under the stall.

Lily giggled. ‘Watch what you’re doing with that. You don’t know where it’s been.’

‘Matter of fact I do. I’ve just bought it from an old girl up Manilla Street. It was her dear departed hubbie’s. She said she wanted to get rid of it quick.’

‘Why’s that?’

‘It’s haunted. In the middle of the night she still hears him using it.’

‘You’re joking!’

‘Cross me heart, that’s no word of a lie. Said her hubbie had a bladder like an elephant.’

The two friends burst into laughter again. ‘Anyway, I ain’t heard a tinkle in the last ten minutes.’ Ben placed the pot at the front of the stall.

‘Where’s the handle gone?’

‘It’s broken off.’

‘What use is a chamber pot without a handle?’ Lily queried. ‘How much did you give her?’

‘Two bob.’

‘Daylight robbery.’

‘She was down on her uppers. I hadn’t the heart to say no.’

Lily frowned as she studied the broken article. ‘Let’s put this in it.’ She took a neglected looking aspidistra from a metal vase and lowered it into the chamber pot, arranging
the broad green leaves over the edges, she stood back. ‘What do you think?’

‘I think if what that old girl says is true, that aspidistra is going to grow into a tree.’

Laughing, Lily placed it in the middle of the stall. The next few hours passed very quickly as the customers seemed determined to start the New Year buying bargains.

Halfway through the afternoon a man came up and stared at the chamber pot for some while.

‘Can I help you?’ Lily asked eventually, noticing how good looking he was. He had very dark hair and wore a good quality overcoat. He smiled at her. ‘I need something for my
house, a touch of greenery to cheer it up after Christmas. The plant would do nicely, but that’s not a vase is it?’

Lily blushed. She wasn’t sure why, normally she would make a joke but for some reason she felt tongue-tied. ‘No, it’s a chamber pot but the plant goes very well inside
it.’

‘How much is it?’

‘Three and six.’ Lily calculated quickly. They would make one and six profit on the original two bob.

‘That’s reasonable.’ He smiled again and Lily felt his dark eyes rove over her.

‘You won’t be sorry, if you buy that,’ said Ben coming up behind her and placing his hands on her shoulders. ‘Nice piece of pottery that. Unique I’d call
it.’

Lily blushed again. She felt quite strange as she stood between the two men and they looked one another up and down.

‘I’ll take it, though I would like it to be delivered. I’ll pay for the trouble, of course.’

Ben was quick to agree.

‘Sunday will be a good time. My name is Charles Grey and I live in Poplar.’ He gave his address to Lily who jotted it down on a pad of paper.

Ben nodded. ‘There’s no market on Sundays, so I’ll drop it round.’

The man glanced at Lily, ‘Will you be coming too?’

This time Lily’s pale cheeks went very red. ‘I don’t think so.’

‘A pity, as a woman’s touch would be quite helpful.’

‘Haven’t you got a—’ Lily stopped, feeling as though she was being too forward in asking if he had a wife.

‘That’ll be three and six, thank you,’ said Ben loudly.

Their customer handed over the money. Gazing into Lily’s eyes once more, he wished them good day.

Lily watched him go, wondering who he was and what he did for a living. He was tall and upright, not as tall as Ben, but distinguished looking and much older. He had something about him that was
very mysterious. She would have liked to talk more and usually she would have, but Ben had been looming over her and she hadn’t felt quite at ease.

‘That was a good deal,’ she said to Ben, who was dropping the change in the cash box under the stall.

‘Not bad at all. Specially as it was broken.’

‘What time are you going on Sunday?’

‘I don’t know. Before dinner I expect. Why?’

‘Oh, I thought I might come with you after all.’

Ben frowned. ‘What would you do that for?’

‘Because I’m curious.’ He shook his head slowly. ‘I’ll never understand women.’

Lily laughed. ‘What makes you say that?’

‘It’s obvious he’s a bit of a charmer,’ Ben dismissed, ‘trying it on with that smile of his and long looks.’