Lily of Love Lane (47 page)

As Lily was walking back to the house, she saw a woman coming towards her. Quickly she crossed to the other side and kept her head down. Would she always be hiding from people? What about her
child? How could she tell him about Charles and how he had abandoned her? Even until now, she had hoped he would turn up. That one day, she would open the door and he would be standing there.

Lily hurried all the way back. She was sliding the key in the lock, when a voice stopped her.

‘’Scuse me, missy.’

Lily turned to find Mr Next Door beside her.

‘Got this fer young Ben.’ He pushed a newspaper in her hand. ‘Thought the young ’un would like a gander. It’s from the Mission Hall and a week old, but one bit is
well worth a read. About this bloke we’ve been keeping tabs on, who we always thought was a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Anyway, I can see you’re busy, so I won’t keep
you.’ He smiled. ‘Lovely day, ain’t it?’

Lily nodded, keeping her head down.

‘Take care of yerself, gel.’

Lily let herself in and hurriedly closed the door. Did he think she was living in sin with Ben? He hadn’t asked any questions, but she felt uncomfortable. Lily remembered the years of
anxiety her mother had suffered, worrying about what people might think.

Taking the paper into the parlour, she sat down. If only she was wealthy, like that aristocratic girl Hattie had told her about, who had been put in the family way. Her relatives had managed to
get her married and then sent her abroad. She had had her baby discreetly and no one had known any difference. But could an ordinary person do that? Would it be possible to find Charles if she
really searched? He had said he had offices in Westminster. Could she find them?

The newspaper slowly slipped to the couch as her thoughts went round and round in her head. Westminster was a big place. How many offices were there? Would Ben drive her up to the city?

Lily’s eyes fell on the newspaper. It had fallen open on a page with a circle drawn around a headline. ‘British Fascist Sympathizer Charles Grey Flees to Rome’.

She picked up the paper, unable to believe what she was reading.

Lily’s heart felt as though it was about to burst out of her chest. This couldn’t be
her
Charles – her baby’s father! She drew her hand over her eyes to clear
her sight. She read the article again and again.

Finally, she let the paper fall. All the strength seemed to seep out of her body as she stared blindly into the fire.

The bright lights of the West End were behind him as Ben dropped off his last fare. He was whistling and feeling pleasantly at peace with himself and the world.

The pocketful of heavy coins and notes, some of which were tips that his customers had given him, had provided a plump bird to cook on Sunday along with all the trimmings. Sausages, bacon,
stuffing – the goods were all tucked safely away in the boot and sitting behind the wheel, he listened to the slow, rhythmic beat of the engine as he followed the traffic and allowed himself
a sigh of satisfaction. He was going home to Lily. Now, wasn’t he a lucky man? All right, so she thought no more of him than a friend, but a man could live in hope. He opened the window of
the cab and rested his elbow on the ledge. He’d made a good return this week, thanks to them ladies outside Fortnum and Masons, all elbowing each other for a ride. And truth was, he’d
had a bit of a laugh with some of them as they’d sat in the back with their posh hair-dos and expensive purchases. A bit of the old verbal and a wink or two – it was all in the line of
duty. But now he was looking forward to getting home and looking into Lily’s lovely blue eyes, the only ones that mattered to him.

He couldn’t wait to see the expression on her face when she saw what he had for Sunday’s dinner. Not a bad day’s work when the country was down in the dumps and this talk of
war going on. With the Spanish unrest, many said it would only be a matter of time before conflict returned to England’s shores. If there was another war, would he put his hand up to fight
it?

Ben’s thoughts were disturbed as he turned into Aldgate and a fine mist crept down like a ghost. At first it didn’t look bad as it only obscured the tops of the smoke-blackened
buildings. But then it slid down their exteriors and crawled off the pavements and into the streets.

‘Sod it,’ he cursed. ‘Now I’m going to be late home.’

Sighing resignedly he brought the car to a halt. There he was, bumper to bumper with the Saturday traffic. Still, nothing he could do about that.

Ben sat back and thought of Lily and his little house.

In spite of the weather conditions, he couldn’t help smiling.

It was gone eight when he arrived home. The mist was thicker in Stepney but it didn’t matter, he’d soon be inside and having a hot cuppa and he’d be telling
Lil all about them fares in the city, giving her a good laugh. It brought back the sparkle to her eyes when she laughed. And if it was only humour he could give her, then it was something.

Ben let himself in and whistled. She always came down the hall, her trim little figure just showing the babe. Sometimes she disguised the fullness with an apron, blushing as he gazed at her. If
only he could tell her that he loved to see her like that. In his opinion she’d never looked so beautiful as she was now.

Ben peered down the dark hall. His stomach lurched. It was too quiet. He shot in the parlour, glanced round the kitchen, scullery and yard and then flew upstairs. But he knew even before he
hammered on Lil’s door that she was gone.

Lily had lost her way. She thought she knew where she was, but her bag was heavy and the fog was so dense that she’d even stepped in the road, missing the passing
vehicles by inches, drawing loud toots and cries of annoyance. Although she had caught a bus on the Commercial Road, the cold and damp soon seeped into her as she left its cosy interior. If she
found the Queen’s, she’d be safe as Dewar Street was only a few turns away. She’d walked it often enough, but now she was confused, having turned off into a lane that looked like
Dewar Street. Taking another few steps, she began to cough. For a moment, she felt the baby move. It was the first time. Her hands went to her stomach as she leaned, panting, against the railings.
Coughing again, she let her bag drop. She was frightened and alone. Had Charles really married Mrs Covas and moved to Italy? She couldn’t understand much of what the newspaper had said. Was
it true that Charles was a fascist? It was an ugly word, but what did it mean? Charles had told her he had enemies. Was that why he had left the country?

The thought of her baby spurred her on. Her steps were slower now, as a pain went across her stomach. She felt sick and stumbled weakly along.

Ben sat in the parlour reading the newspaper article. Mr Next Door had circled it in pencil.

‘Oh, Lil,’ he whispered hoarsely. ‘Why did you have to find out like this?’

He cast the paper aside and pushed his hands over his face. Where could she have gone? In this fog an’ all. What had got into her head to go out in weather like this? Would she have gone
to her mum’s? Ben shook his head impatiently. No, that was the last place she’d go; she’d move mountains to keep her secret from Josie. Hattie and Reube’s, then? No, she
wouldn’t want to be seen in Love Lane.

Ben racked his brains, trying to think of an answer. He paced up and down, going over in his mind all the possibilities. But there were none he could believe – and then he froze. There was
one place!

Jumping back in the cab, he resisted the urge to accelerate. ‘Steady,’ he ordered himself as he peered through the sheets of greeny grey mist sliding over the bonnet. When he got to
Poplar, he found a brief clearing. Beyond the Queen’s, he turned into the narrow roads behind. Edging the car round into Dewar Street, he stopped outside number four. The house gave off a
faint glow.

Who was there? Was it the new people? Or was it Charles Grey back from Italy?

His heart beat fast as he leapt from the car and ran up the steps. He banged angrily on the knocker. Would it be Grey, turning up like the proverbial bad penny, who answered? If it was, what
would he do?

The door opened. His gaze fell on the figure of a plump, homely looking woman. The pleasant smell of cooking oozed out of the house.

‘Yes?’

Ben found himself mute for a moment. As the baby in her arms whimpered, he took off his cap. ‘I’m sorry to disturb you. I’m looking for a friend, a Miss Lily Bright. She used
to work here.’

He was surprised when she said, ‘You’d better step in, young man.’

Ben wiped his boots on the mat.

‘We’re new to the house,’ she told him, closing the door. ‘But we had another visitor a short while ago.’

‘You mean you’ve seen Lil – Miss Bright?’

‘She didn’t give her name. She just wanted to know if a Charles was here.’

‘That’s who she worked for,’ Ben nodded urgently.

A boy and a girl came running down the stairs, yelling and shouting.

‘Quiet, you two, we’ve got another caller.’

The three of them looked up at him.

‘What happened then?’ Ben asked.

‘I told her I didn’t know who lived here before, as my husband had dealt with the purchase of the house.’

‘Did she look all right?’

‘No, as a matter of fact, she didn’t. I asked her to come in and take shelter from the fog but she refused.’ The baby began to cry and the woman held it over her shoulder,
patting its back. ‘Then she just seemed to drift away.’

Ben felt the panic rise in him. What had Lily been thinking when she’d come to Dewar Street? She must have thought like him, there was a chance Grey had returned. How had she felt when she
found the new family here?

‘Thanks,’ he nodded and rushed out. He drove the length of Dewar Street once more, up to the laundry and back, his eyes alert for any movement. Suddenly he saw something on the
ground. It was Lily’s bag!

Stopping the car, he picked it up. It must have been too heavy for her to carry. He looked around him. ‘Lil, Lil, it’s me, Ben,’ he cried, but only an echo returned.

After a while he drove on again. In Poplar High Street he looked this way and that. Should he get out to search? She couldn’t have gone far. Was it likely she had returned to the island?
By the time he drove into Westferry Road, he had broken out in a sweat. The docks were treacherous in these conditions; one false move and you were in the drink. With the fog obscuring the wharves,
their slippery edges and sharp declines, a person could be lost, never to be found again.

Ben pounded the wheel in frustration! Where was she? He passed Cuba Street and Manilla Street and was at the beginning of Tiller Road when he jammed his foot on the brake. A figure appeared. It
seemed to hesitate in his path, not knowing whether to advance or retreat.

‘Christ almighty!’ His heart almost jumped out of his chest.

Had he hit it?

He leapt out and caught the shivering bundle in his arms. It was Lily who clung tightly to him.

Lily looked into Dr Tapper’s face. He was sitting on the chair beside her bed in Ben’s house and his kindly eyes under his bushy grey eyebrows were regarding her
steadily.

‘You gave us all a scare,’ he told her sternly. ‘In particular the young man waiting downstairs in the parlour. He thought he might have run you over.’

‘I couldn’t see in the fog.’

‘Lily, do you realize that you have put yourself and your baby at risk?’

She sat up. ‘Is it all right?’

‘The stress and shock you’ve been through caused you to lose some blood. But I think we’ve avoided by a whisker the miscarriage you would have had, had you not been found in
time.’ The elderly man put away his things in his Gladstone bag and stood up. ‘Now, I have left instructions that you are on no account to exert yourself over the next few
days.’

Lily nodded silently.

‘I’ll come to see you again soon. Then we’ll decide on whether or not you can move around a little.’

‘Doctor Tapper?’

‘Yes?’ He paused at the door.

‘Does me mum know?’

‘Have you told her?’

‘Not yet.’

‘Then if you haven’t, she is obviously unaware.’ He smiled. ‘Now, goodbye and make sure you do as I say.’

Lily heard him go down the stairs. A tear slipped slowly down her cheek. Why had she gone off like that? The pain in her stomach had been the baby in distress. She couldn’t bear to think
of what might have happened if she’d lost it. She knew she wanted this little life more than anything now. More than Charles even.

Suddenly there was a tap on the door and Ben came in. ‘Now then, cheer up.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘What for?’

‘Everything.’

‘Well, I’m sorry that you felt the need to run away.’

‘I read that newspaper article that Mr Next Door sent in. It was about Charles and Mrs Covas. I couldn’t believe it at first, and I thought he might still be there, at Dewar
Street.’

‘So you went off in a pea-souper, when you was only just getting stronger after the hospital? Well, Lily Bright, this can’t keep happening, you know. I enjoy you falling into me
arms, but I want you fit and well when you do it.’

Lily looked down at her hands on the sheet. ‘Is it true what the newspaper says, about him and her?’