Lily of Love Lane (28 page)

Lily felt a shiver of cold down her spine. ‘What happened then?’

‘The old Chinese gave him something else.’ Noah Kelly sank back on the couch. ‘Something stronger.’

‘What’s that?’

Her uncle sighed. ‘It was laudanum.’

Lily blinked. ‘But that’s what the doctor gives Sylvester.’

‘Yes, gel, I know.’

‘It stops his bad dreams and calms him.’

‘Well then,’ said her mother, her eyes suddenly wide as she sat on the edge of her chair, ‘it can’t be so bad, can it, that your dad takes it once in a while for
relief.’

‘But it’s not once in a while, is it, Mum?’ Lily jumped to her feet. ‘I wondered why we weren’t managing. We’re always short. We’ve run up more on the
slate again. With all the overtime I do, we should be all right.’

‘I know, Lily, and I’m sorry.’

‘Do you know where Dad’s gone?’

Josie wrung her hands together. ‘To buy it himself I should think.’

‘Did he have any money?’

‘He took all I had in me apron pocket.’

Lily sniffed back her tears. ‘We’ll have to find him.’

‘Not at night we can’t,’ objected her uncle. ‘Not up there. After dark you’d take your life in your hands. It’s risky enough in daytime when I get a lift up
with the coalie.’

Lily tried to think what to do. She loved the good and gentle man who had provided a roof over their heads when she was a child. He had always been there for her and now she must help him. She
had to make him see that the drug he relied on was slowly killing him.

‘We’ll leave it till morning,’ she said at last.

‘It’s me that will go,’ protested her uncle. ‘Those places ain’t no place for a woman.’

‘He’s me dad, Uncle Noah,’ Lily replied. ‘We’ll go together.’

‘But what state will he be in?’ protested Josie, clenching her hands once more. ‘And how will you bring him back? The coalie don’t work on Sundays.’

Lily looked at her mother and shrugged. ‘We’ll find a way. And when he comes home, we’ll call in the doctor.’

‘I don’t want him told,’ said her mother, looking alarmed.

Lily knew that her mother was worried what the doctor would say. People who lived in poverty were the first to be ashamed of their circumstances. If the fact could be hidden or disguised, women
would go out of their way to do so. But worrying what other people might think is what had begun the trouble in the first place. She had grown up with the shame of poverty instilled into her. Now
nothing mattered more than bringing her dad home and making him well again.

Ben stretched and heard a loud creak. Flexing his arms and rolling his neck, he realized his head had been at an angle overnight. He’d slept so soundly that it would take
more than a Sunday dinner and trot down the pub to cure his stiffness. A stride out, that was what he needed. Or maybe he’d give the charabanc a good wash?

He eased himself up and glanced at the empty bed beside him. He hoped the lucky bugger who’d slept beside him for the past thirty years was enjoying himself. A smile touched his mouth as
he thought of the boarding house he’d delivered the pair of lovers to. There was a bit of an old dragon inside, who had barked out orders as they’d heaved up the two suitcases to the
third floor. But the room had been large and the bedclothes looked clean. And from the look in Hattie’s eye anyway, it wasn’t those sort of details she was interested in.

Ben pulled on his trousers, thinking of what he would do after a wash and shave. First he’d begin to clear his clothes out of the wardrobe and take them upstairs to the top room. There
wasn’t a great deal of stuff as he’d trimmed down over the last few weeks. It wasn’t going to be long before he, too, was off. Mum still hadn’t agreed to wed Pedro, but she
had Hattie and Reube to look after her.

Rubbing the stubble on his chin, he made his way downstairs. It was a bit quiet, with just him and Mum at home. But when Hattie and Reube were back, they’d soon cheer it up. He glanced
through the lace at the lorry outside. He’d been too damned tired at three o’clock this morning to park at the Quarry. Next week he’d start looking round for that four-seater, an
Austin or Hillman perhaps. Whistling his way to the kitchen, he put on the kettle.

He was ruminating on the day ahead, when he heard the knocker go. Glancing at the mantel clock, he saw it was eight on the dot. Early for Pedro. But then the poor bloke was probably eager,
without half of the family around.

But when he opened the door, he found Lily there. ‘Blimey,’ he said hesitantly. ‘Lil! What are you doing up and about this early on a Sunday?’

‘Can I come in?’

‘Course you can.’ He stepped back, self conscious of his appearance. He hadn’t washed or shaved or even brushed his teeth.

‘I got to talk to you, Ben.’

He led her into the parlour. ‘Sit down, take the weight off your feet.’

She perched on the edge of a chair, her blue eyes staring up at him anxiously. For a moment he wondered if this had something to do with what he’d seen at the church. He’d been a
fraction away from thinking they could pick up the broken pieces of their friendship in a more intimate way, when that fella had appeared. What was his name? Grey . . . Charles Grey! He’d
seen the way she looked at him and knew that it still wasn’t over between them. Yet, it wasn’t the look of love in her eyes right this moment. It was more like fear.

‘I saw your lorry,’ she said, her face parchment white.

‘Yeah. Got back late from Brighton,’ he nodded. ‘Was too tired to park it up. So I left it outside. Now how can I help?’

‘I need a favour.’

He shrugged. ‘Anything, Lil. Just name it.’

‘It’s me dad . . .’

He frowned, shaking his head. ‘Is it his cough? Shall I come over?’

‘No, it’s not his cough. When we was at the wedding, he went off somewhere and he’s still not back.’

Ben waited, a troubled feeling growing inside him. ‘You mean he’s been gone all night?’

‘Yes.’ Her eyes were full of sadness. ‘Me dad’s sick, Ben. But not with his cough. He needs something else to help him . . . not regular medicine . . . something not easy
to stop.’

For a moment he drew in his breath. In his mind’s eye he saw Noah Kelly in the cart, riding beside the coalie. The cart had always turned out from Limehouse.

‘You’d better tell me what’s going on,’ he said.

Slowly, as she spoke, the puzzle all fell into place.

‘You stay with your mum,’ he told her as he quickly pulled on his jacket. ‘Your uncle and me will find the place.’

‘Me dad might need me,’ she said and he shrugged.

He wanted to take her in his arms and protect her. What had Mrs Bright been thinking of? Her daughter working all hours that God sent. An old man, running the gauntlet to Limehouse. Proper barmy
that was. No wonder the Brights were always hard-up. The poppy didn’t come cheap. No wonder Bob Bright was half the man he used to be.

Ben growled softly to himself as he took Lily’s arm and led her out to the lorry. He should have guessed. The times he had spotted Noah on the cart and the strange decline in Bob Bright.
He should have seen signs! There were men he’d known who’d taken to drink, but this habit took a toll of a man’s brain as swift as it emptied his pocket.

‘I’ll fetch your uncle,’ Ben said as she sat in the cab.

At the back of the lorry he reached under the canvas. Sliding the wrench under his belt, he went quickly across the road.

The door of number thirty-four opened. Noah Kelly frowned up at him. He looked older than Methuselah, Ben thought in dismay.

‘She told you, then?’

‘She did, Mr Kelly.’

‘It was all me fault.’

‘It don’t matter whose fault it was. We’ll bring him home, don’t worry.’

Noah Kelly nodded slowly. ‘Thank you, son.’

Five minutes later they were driving up Westferry Road. The lorry rattled and shook but this was the only noise. His two passengers sat silently beside him.

The best form of defence was attack, he could remember his old man saying. He wished his dad was here now to lend a hand.

But uppermost in Ben’s mind was one question. Bob Bright was a grown man. If they found him here, would he willingly return home?

B
en turned the lorry into Limehouse and Lily felt a shiver go through her. The roads had been deserted, but one or two figures now emerged amongst
the dilapidated buildings.

‘It’s Chinese round here,’ said Ben as he pulled on to the waste ground.

‘Merchant seamen from the East,’ nodded her uncle as a tall man and oriental woman came their way. ‘Lascars. They settle on the banks, don’t go far from the
river.’

‘Where is me dad?’ Lily gazed in dismay at the half houses and roofless cottages.

‘The place we want is over there,’ Noah pointed to a tumbled dwelling that seemed deserted to Lily. There were boards across the windows and weeds grew tall outside. She could hear
the chatter of the couple passing by, a foreign language, with glances thrown slyly towards the lorry.

Ben sighed as he turned off the engine. ‘Well, Mr Kelly, it ain’t the most salubrious place in town.’

The old man heaved a sigh. ‘You’re right there, boy. I would cut off me arm if I could turn back the clock and change things but then I thought I was doing him a turn, temporary
like, to give the poor bloke a bit of relief.’

‘Is there anyone else inside, except the woman you’ve told us about?’ Ben enquired.

‘One fella,’ nodded Lily’s uncle. ‘And he’s twice the size of you, boy. If they’ve got Bob in there, he’s not likely to be above ground, but below
stairs.’

‘You mean there’s a cellar?’

‘As black as Hades it is too.’

‘That’s comforting,’ said Ben as he opened the door slowly.

‘Say it was me that sent you. Let her think you’re a customer,’ warned the old man beside him. ‘Watch every move she makes, lad. She looks like a harmless old girl, but
she’s as hard as nails, a real pro.’

‘I’ll bear that in mind,’ Ben nodded as he slung his legs out of the cab and jumped down. He looked quickly back. ‘You stay right where you are an’ all, Lil. You
and your uncle don’t move, right?’

Lily nodded although it was hard for her to just wait. She felt the tension tightening in her stomach. Her heart jumped into her mouth as she saw him bang his fist on the door. Was he in danger?
And if her father was inside that hovel, how would Ben get him out again?

Ben’s heart was hammering as he stepped inside and heard the door close behind him. It was dark as he took a breath and felt his head swim with foul and pungent air.
Coughing, he put his hand to his mouth, then managed to breathe again.

A figure moved in front of him. Bent and tiny, she flitted across his vision to stand by a lamp. Her green gown glowed and above it, he could see an ancient face with almond eyes.

‘What you want, nice-boy?’ Her voice was as inquisitive as a child’s.

‘What have you got to offer?’ Ben glanced quickly round. He couldn’t see the guard but to turn and look behind him would show fear.

She gave a birdlike twitch. ‘How you know Mai Chi?’

‘A friend sent me. Noah Kelly.’

‘Ah . . .’ She closed her small hands together. ‘Kelly-Kelly ol’ friend of Mai Chi.’

‘So I understand.’

‘Kelly-Kelly sent you have good time with Mai?’

Ben nodded abruptly. ‘He did that.’ Was Lily’s dad here? he wondered. What if, instead, Bob Bright had taken a drink to ease his troubles? Had old Mr Kelly put the wind up them
all for nothing?

Ben frowned into the darkness. He could see nothing in this pig sty that resembled a man.

‘You want smokey-smokey?’

Ben nodded once more. The woman gave a gentle chuckle and crooked a finger. A man appeared from the shadows. Ben caught his breath at the sight of the tall figure. The Lascar’s black face
glistened in the lamplight, his muscles bulged as he folded his arms.

‘Nice boy follow Mai.’

Ben felt his blood quicken as she led him down the rickety stairs. Grasping the rotting walls, his fingers slid helplessly against damp and filth ingrained in them.

‘This way, velly nice boy.’

Ben blinked, trying hard to adjust his eyes. He felt swallowed up by the thick, dope-filled air. A candle flickered from a corner and she turned

‘You lay here, Mai make you happy.’ She pointed to a mattress on the floor.

Ben felt his stomach heave as he sat gingerly down. A mist curled before his eyes like a thin curtain and the stench became putrid. In the darkness he was left alone.

Slowly, his vision became clearer. He saw another mattress and on it lay a figure. Ben rose stealthily and went over. Shaking the limp shoulder, he took a sharp breath as a pair of watery eyes
gazed up at him.

‘Mr Bright!’ he exclaimed.

‘Who . . . who is it?’

‘Ben James, sir.’

A hand clutched him tight. ‘Get me out of here, lad.’

‘Can you walk?’

‘I dunno. I can’t feel me legs.’

‘Sling yer arm round me shoulder and we’ll try for those stairs.’

Ben lifted the fragile weight, shocked at the change in the man. If only they could get up those stairs . . .

‘Where you going with old man, nice boy?’

Ben froze. The woman appeared out of nowhere. In her hand she held a pipe, long and smoking. The smell that exuded from it made his stomach revolt.

‘I ain’t staying, and nor is he,’ Ben said, unable to hide his disgust.

‘You try smokey-smokey,’ she whispered, pushing the pipe towards him. ‘You come, sit with Mai. You forget all troubles.’

‘The only trouble I got, is getting up them stairs,’ replied Ben as he shambled himself and his burden forward. ‘Now let me pass.’

Quickly she laid down the pipe and sprang on him. ‘You not go till you give Mai money!’

‘You’ll be lucky, you evil crone. After what you’ve done to me mate, you’re lucky I ain’t calling the coppers.’

Her almond eyes were like fire. ‘You threaten Mai Chi?’

‘Get out of me way.’ He was on the stairs now and his grip on Bob was tight. But there was the Lascar to deal with at the top.