Lily of Love Lane (37 page)

‘Yes,’ Lily nodded. ‘Mr Grey’s home.’ She didn’t know what to say to Mrs Brewer. She couldn’t tell her about the accident as Charles might tell her
something else. Lily looked up the stairs. Why had he rushed up there after the policemen had gone? All he had whispered was that he would explain everything later.

‘I’ll bet it was one of them daft dockers,’ said Mrs Brewer, not waiting for Lily to answer. ‘They came through Poplar on their way back. Stepney got a few bashed windows
and all. But it was Cable Street that got it worst, so everyone is saying.’

Lily nodded. ‘Did you see your daughter?’

‘No, more’s the pity. Tom went to work this morning wondering if there was going to be any damage. The big workshops are in Leman Street. He’ll get the truth from the Jews, but
the government won’t let on how serious it is.’

‘Why is that?’ asked Lily, confused.

‘Looks bad for them, don’t it? They can’t control the dockers and tailors, a small minority who defeated the fascists and the whole of the Metropolitan Police put
together.’

‘Is that true?’

‘Don’t know, ducks. We’ll have to see. Tom’ll come home with all the news, though the papers are bound to be full of it. Not that you can trust them either, as they give
us a lot of soft soap. Has Mr Grey had his breakfast yet?’

Lily shook her head. ‘No.’

‘I expect he’ll be upset about his car?’

‘Yes, he is.’

‘Anyway, I’ll get the fires going. It’s a cold wind outside. Then I’ll cook him a good bit of bacon to cheer him up.’

But Mrs Brewer was never to cook the meal. Ten minutes later, Charles hurried down, pulling on his coat, informing them that he didn’t want breakfast and was going out to see to the car
repairs.

Lily left Mrs Brewer to do the laundry. She didn’t want to answer any questions. She had enough of her own. Like why hadn’t Charles given her an explanation for his strange
behaviour? What was wrong? She had an unsettled feeling inside her, brought about not just by Charles’ lies, but also at the thought that the police might return and she’d have to lie
again.

I
t was late in the day when Charles returned. Lily was banking the fire as Mrs Brewer had left strict instructions to put on more coke at teatime.
Lily had just replaced the tongs when she heard a key in the door.

She rose to her feet expectantly. In the hall she found Charles. ‘Let me take your coat.’

He nodded silently and after hanging it up, Lily followed him in to the drawing room. He stood, gazing into the scarlet flames, one elbow propped on the mantelpiece. Lily could see that he
hadn’t shaved this morning, as a dark growth spread over his chin and his black hair fell in an unruly fashion down to his collar.

‘How are you feeling today?’ she asked. Even though she was upset at what he had expected her to do this morning, she couldn’t be angry with him for long. He looked tired and
weary.

‘I’m well enough, Lily.’

‘And your wound?’

He nodded. ‘That is the least of my worries.’

Lily clasped her hands together. She felt that he was on the brink of saying something. After a few moments she spoke. ‘I’ll go and set the table.’

But he looked up and shook his head. ‘I’m not hungry, thank you.’

‘But you must eat.’

‘I’ve no appetite yet. Perhaps later.’

Lily stood uncertainly. ‘I’ll put on the lights.’

‘No, leave them. The fire is sufficient.’

She looked around. ‘Is there anything I can get you?’

At first he shook his head, but then, sighing, he nodded. ‘A little brandy, Lily, to revive the spirits.’

She had never known him to drink before eating. Occasionally he would enjoy a glass of port after a meal, but that was only in the company of his guests.

She obeyed, going to the back parlour where a large cabinet was stocked with a variety of alcohol. She found the brandy and placed a large balloon glass on a silver tray. As she had never poured
this spirit before, she used the measuring cup. It smelt strong, but the amber colour looked warm and inviting. Perhaps it really did lift people’s spirits.

When she returned to the drawing room, he was sitting in one of the pink chairs, gazing into the fire. She sensed he had withdrawn into himself and didn’t want to talk. Curbing her own
need to discuss what had happened, she placed the silver tray on the small table beside him. Then, saying nothing, she was about to leave when he looked up.

‘Lily, you deserve an explanation.’

She kept silent, looking into his haunted eyes.

‘Without you this morning I would have been in trouble.’

Alarm filled her. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Come and sit down.’

She moved slowly across the floor to the couch.

‘No, not over there. Here in this chair beside me.’

Feeling her cheeks warm, she did as he told her. The fire crackled and spat, but this was the only noise in the darkened room.

Lily waited patiently. She had a feeling that what she was about to hear would turn her world upside down. And the first words he said, confirmed that.

‘Lily, I don’t wish to burden you with my problems, but in giving you a satisfactory explanation, you must be made aware of my situation.’

Lily sat quietly, but her mind was in turmoil. She couldn’t imagine Charles in trouble, it was quite out of character. But then, before this morning, she would never have expected him to
lie, much less ask her to lie on his behalf.

Noah Kelly was restless. He wanted to get to his Monday meeting, but he’d been choked off by Josie last week after expounding on his beliefs. He wasn’t listened to
at home any more. And yet it wasn’t just him that felt this way. There were others, old men perhaps, but they remembered the conflict, sensed the same vibrations floating over from Europe. It
didn’t take a great brain to understand the turmoil. Much less to know that no country was safe whilst Germany was re-arming.

Noah pulled on his coat and opened the front door.

‘Where are you off to, Noah?’ His sister came down the hall.

‘Going out for a breather.’

‘At this time of night?’

‘It’s only half six.’

‘Well, it’s cold out there. Not like a summer’s evening. What if there’s still rioters out? I read in the papers that eighty people were injured on Sunday and the
Blackshirts threw a poor Jewish man and his son through a window.’

Noah laughed as he pulled up his collar. ‘Well, they ain’t going to throw me through one.’

‘I don’t want you caught up in trouble.’

‘It ain’t the rioters you’ve got to worry about it’s them bloody politicians who are doing nothing to stop a far bigger crisis.’

‘Oh, you ain’t going on about them again, are you?’

‘What if I am?’

‘You are a crazy old man! The war is over. There ain’t going to be another one.’

‘That’s what you think.’

Josie walked slowly up to him. She smelt of cooking, of the thick meat pie they’d just enjoyed, with mash and brussels sprouts. She represented the calm and orderly, and he envied her
blind faith. ‘Noah Kelly, don’t you think you’re a bit too old to start a revolution?’

‘It’s no revolution. It’s fact. Europe’s on the move.’

He stood uncertainly. He wanted to get his feelings off his chest, but Josie wouldn’t understand. She’d already accused him of being too old to think straight. Old he may be, but his
memory wasn’t gone. And there was the rub, Noah thought to himself angrily. The country had come through one conflict this century, and refused to admit another. Seventeen years on and all
Baldwin could do was sit in his ivory tower and twiddle his fingers. Yet right under his nose the insurgents were gathering force. They’d been stopped at Tower Hill, but it wouldn’t
rest there. Laugh in his face, some might, when he foretold of another catastrophe but bloody Mussolini was gathering strength along with that fascist madman Franco. And Hitler, as bold as brass,
had outright defied the treaty of Versailles and goose-stepped his way across the Rhineland. What use was the flaming League of Nations now? And here were the British government begging the French
to give full consideration to the German High Command’s actions! It was unbelievable!

‘Noah, you’re not going up to the Mission Hall again?’

‘Yes, I am.’

‘They’re a lot of silly, cross old men.’

‘So you keep telling me. But we know what we know.’

‘You’ll sit there and catch your death.’

‘I’ll sit there and talk to me mates. Nothing wrong in that, is there?’

Josie put her arm out. ‘I wish Lily was here. She’d talk some sense into your head.’

He wanted to tell her it was Lily he was concerned about. Her most of all, but Josie wasn’t the person to tell. No, even Bob was past it now. Since he’d come off the jollup, he was
content with his fags and the occasional ale. He didn’t want to remember the war, he had enough skeletons in his closet, he said, to sink a ship. There was Ben, of course, but the poor lad
wasn’t to be involved. He’d done enough for the Brights in the past and had his own life to lead.

Noah smiled gently at his sister. She was a good woman, but a blind one. ‘I won’t be late. Charlie’s giving me a lift on his cart. I’m meeting him at the end of the
road.’

‘Well, have it your own way. You always do.’

Noah let himself out and into the chill of the October evening. Digging his hands in his pockets, he stumbled along Love Lane towards the cart that was slowly drawing up on the cobbles.

Lily looked at the man she cared for so deeply. She knew she could forgive him anything. This morning had come as a shock, but it was obvious he was troubled. She wanted to
help if she could, and she knew she had to wait until he was ready to explain.

‘Lily, when we first met, I told you I bought and sold works of art, curios, furniture . . .’ He paused, then looked at her. ‘That was true at the time, but it wasn’t all
of the truth. You see, I have a greater interest. One that is a passion and yet I have never been able to indulge myself fully in it’s precarious nature. That interest has grown considerably
over the past two years.’

Lily frowned. She had no idea what he was talking about.

‘Indeed, it’s not to my business in Shoreditch that I travel to each day, it’s into the city.’

‘The city?’ Lily repeated, frowning.

‘I have an office in Westminster as I need to be central to my real work. You may have guessed by now that I am involved in politics. This is the reason why I am away so
frequently.’

‘But I thought you were travelling abroad to buy different things.’

‘I’m afraid I encouraged that assumption. Many of my visits to other countries are to – shall we say – secure funds for my political interests.’

‘But when we first met—’

‘When we first met,’ he interrupted gently, neither of us knew each other very well . . . and it was only after a period of time that we became close friends. Is that not
right?’

She nodded slowly. ‘Did you really want my help to buy things for the house?’

‘Of course. That was entirely genuine. I missed Delia’s influence as I told you. And although I would have liked to take you into my confidence, I’d had a difficult experience
with Annie; I was wary. As a new political group, our image must be untarnished.’

‘What is your party called?’ Lily asked.

‘We have no name as such yet. But we like to call ourselves new thinkers.’

Lily was still confused. ‘I don’t know much about politics.’

‘All you need to know is that one day we intend to make a great difference to this country. Do away with oppression and provide work for men like your father who have been treated so
unfairly.’

Lily was filled with admiration. She might not understand much about politics but she understood the problems of the poor and needy. His voice was filled with passion as he went on. ‘The
men who come here to speak with me are of the same mind. We have great plans for the future. For this reason we meet in private in order to pursue our goal.’

‘And you want it all kept secret?’ she asked, frowning.

‘Simply because, as a new party, others would try to discredit us. As I warned you once, discretion is an absolute necessity, especially at the more sensitive times, like now.’

Lily sat quietly, absorbing all he had said. His eyes were filled with energy, his face alive with a burning enthusiasm. She had never seen him like this before.

‘This morning,’ he went on, ‘I left my office in the company of a prominent man, who is sympathetic to our cause. As we drove towards Tower Hill, we came upon the rioters who
broke our windscreen. I simply had to drive on, knowing that if the newspapers got hold of the incident, they would distort the facts. My colleague holds a high rank and any connection with the
riots – however innocent – would endanger his career. Therefore I was obliged to lie on his behalf to the police. I had to scotch any rumour. Unfortunately Lily . . .’ he reached
across and took her hand, ‘I put you in an awkward position. All I can say is, I owe you a great debt, my dear friend.’

Lily felt his strong hand tighten around hers. It was the first time he had ever touched her in this way.

‘I beg your forgiveness,’ he said huskily as he gazed into her eyes.

Lily knew that she had forgiven him even before his explanation. But she wished he had told her some of this before. Even last night when he came home would have been better than now.

‘There’s nothing to forgive.’

‘And you understand my reasons?’

She nodded slowly, her senses beginning to reel as he took hold of both her hands. He pressed them tightly to his chest.

‘Oh, Lily, my beautiful girl.’ His eyes glimmered brightly in the firelight as he pulled her closer. ‘You mean so much to me, Lily. As a dear friend, yes, but our connection is
much more, don’t you think? We share something quite wonderful.’

Lily swallowed. What was he telling her? Could she dare to hope that he returned her feelings?

‘We have a bond that begun the moment I saw you that day at the market,’ he told her eagerly. ‘A bond that has deepened over the years. When I saw you at the church, I
couldn’t let you slip out of my life again.’