Lizzie's Secret (41 page)

‘You've got tenants there, haven't you?'

‘Yes, but if I want the house for myself or a relative I can give them a month's notice…'

‘I thought you hated it after your uncle died?'

‘It seemed big and empty and my aunt made it feel like a morgue – but with two women and three children it would be very different…'

Beth stared. ‘What are you saying? We could share the house – you and me, Lizzie? '

‘The house is in good condition. We might want to decorate, but most of it is good and I'll be able to do whatever needs doing. There's a garden for the kids. We can put the prams out there and when they're older – but if you've taken the flat it's too late…'

‘Oh, Lizzie, it's a wonderful idea. I went after the flat but they wouldn't let it to me because I'm a woman on my own with two kids and they thought I might not pay the rent. I could give you the same as they were charging – fifteen shillings a week…'

‘I don't want rent from you. We'll share all the expenses, electric and all the rest – and it will make things easier for both of us…'

‘Oh, Lizzie! I don't know what to say…'

‘You could say yes…' Lizzie laughed because Beth threw herself at her and hugged her, her baby squeezed between them.

‘But what about the flat over the workshop?'

‘I think I know someone who might like to rent it,' Lizzie said. ‘I'll go round later and speak to him – as long as you're happy with our arrangement?'

‘When can we move in?'

‘I'll telephone my uncle's lawyer and tell him to serve notice and as soon as he says the house is empty we'll go. It's a good thing I hadn't given notice on my flat just yet.'

‘I can't wait,' Beth said. ‘I'm glad I didn't say yes when Bernie asked me to marry him, Lizzie. I was in love with Mark, I still do love him, but I've accepted that he's gone, Lizzie. but you were right. I'm going to wait for the right man – a man I can love as I loved Mark.'

*

Lizzie telephoned the lawyer with her decision and he agreed that she had made a sensible choice.

‘I'm able to tell you that my client has accepted your terms on the cobbler's shop, Mrs Oliver. He is anxious to go ahead and I believe you will receive your money in about six weeks.'

‘Thank you. You will let me know when I can move into my house.'

‘Yes, of course.'

Lizzie's mind was busy as she made herself poached egg on toast. Ed was not happy in his lodgings and she believed he might be ready for a place of his own again, but she wasn't quite sure how to put the suggestion to him. It would mean a bus ride every morning and evening for him to get to Oliver's but she would charge him no more than ten shillings for the rent and she happened to know he was paying twice that for a room, breakfast and evening meal…

After the dishes were finished, Lizzie looked about her. She had half her stuff in boxes but she couldn't be bothered to unpack it all again, just the things she would need to see her through another month or so…

Remembering the letter her lawyer had given her, Lizzie took a cup of tea through to the sitting room and slit the envelope.
My very dear Lizzie,
Uncle Jack had written.

Lizzie closed her eyes, uncertain that she wanted to go on because her aunt had already told her in a way that had brought great distress. She wished that she'd been told everything years before, but it hardly mattered now. She was about to fold the letter and replace it in the envelope when the next sentence caught her eye.

Lizzie sat by the fire in the front room and picked up her sketchbook, but her eyes were moist and she didn't feel like working, because she just wished she could talk to her uncle tell him how grateful she was – how much she loved him. She was staring into space, half asleep when her front doorbell rang.

Who could that be at this hour? She was reluctant to answer, because it was getting dark and nearly nine in the evening, but it might be important… Reluctantly, she got to her feet and ran down the stairs, opening the door just as the man was turning away. She recognised him instantly and called to him, ‘Ed, is that you?'

He turned with a smile. ‘Forgive me for disturbing you at this hour, but I've only just learned what Oliver did to you…'

‘Come up into the flat, Ed,' Lizzie invited and made sure her blackout was in place before putting the light on. ‘I wanted to see you, but when you didn't come to see me I thought perhaps… you might blame me too.'

‘He ordered me not to, said you didn't want to see anyone. Then I found out he's finishing with the special hats and I demanded the truth. I told him he's a damned fool and I've left Oliver's,' he said, turning to her as she locked the door behind them. ‘It's obvious why you didn't tell him, because you wanted to spare them pain – and I don't believe for one moment that you would have cheated on your husband.'

‘I didn't,' Lizzie said. ‘Something happened – a quarrel that may have contributed to Harry's distress, but I had written to tell him I wanted him home so that we could start again.'

‘If you quarrelled it was his fault; the lad always had a jealous streak and a temper like his father and his uncle. I know you, Lizzie, and I would trust you with my life.'

‘Oh, Ed, thank you,' she said, her throat catching with emotion. ‘It makes me feel so much better.'

‘What are you going to do now?'

‘Carry on as best I can,' she said. ‘I've bought some rolls of material from Arthur Stockton; he's gone to the country to be with his daughter – and I've taken over his lease. It's only for five years, but long enough to discover whether I can make a go of my own millinery business.'

‘At one time I thought of working with him – and I would have if you hadn't started designing for us… it's a pity he's gone.'

‘Yes, his hats were good quality.'

‘Better than some of Oliver's,' Ed said. ‘I'm going to work in a boot factory – but over the years I've acquired things I need for the hat making, which I kept in the shed outside. They weren't burned, Lizzie, and you can have them if they're of any use – and I'd be glad to help you on Saturdays and Sundays too, if that doesn't bother you – we could produce more of your special styles.'

‘Oh, Ed, that is the best news I've had in ages,' Lizzie said. ‘It would help me so much if you could produce a few new shapes each week for me to work on. I don't know how long my stock will last but…'

‘I might be able to help there,' Ed said. ‘I've made contacts over the years – with suppliers that Oliver wouldn't give a contract to because he said they were too dear – but their stock was the best, Lizzie. He's always bought overseas when he could, but I like local suppliers and I bought a few rolls of good quality velvet last year from a young lad just started up as a salesman. He told me that if ever I needed more supplies to come to him. Of course the velvet was lost in the fire but…' Ed paused for a moment, and then went on in a firm tone, ‘I can give him a ring and he will call to see you here. I know we have to comply with certain regulations, but that should be easy enough to work out – there isn't anything about Oliver's business I don't know, which is why he tried to hang on to me.'

‘Oh, Ed,' Lizzie said. ‘I bought a bit of velvet too. I've done some new shapes, tam-o'-shanters, caps and a soft turban which clings softly to the back of the head – it's the softer line a lot of women like at the moment.'

‘I think we'll find most of what we want right here in this country. Local factories making simple, good quality materials we don't have to import. Maybe we shan't find all the exotic bits and pieces we've been used to – but we probably don't need them.' His eyes twinkled. ‘They tell me there's a war on…'

Lizzie's eyes stung with tears because she'd been given fresh hope for the future. ‘You are so very kind…'

‘I like working for you and that's the truth. Bert Oliver treats his workers like he owns them; you treat us as individuals, Lizzie. I'll be glad to do what I can for you.'

Lizzie gave a scream of delight and hugged the older man. His plain, homely face broke into a smile and he gave her a quick bear hug back.

‘I was going to come round and ask if you'd like to take the flat over Stockton's workshops. I'm going to live in my uncle's house with Beth and the children – and I could let you have the flat for ten shillings a week.'

‘Offer it to me? That's really nice of you.' Ed looked pleased, and then a flicker of excitement showed in his eyes. ‘It's worth more than that, Lizzie. I'll give you fifteen. I've been looking for a place I can afford and that would be ideal, because I could work for you when I'm not at the boot factory.'

‘As soon as we start to get some customers for the workshop, you can work full-time if you want. If we can keep going long enough, you can be my partner and we'll make beautiful hats that everyone will want…'

‘That we will, Lizzie,' he said. ‘I've often thought of having my own workshops – and if you'd really have me as your partner, I'll put in a bit of my savings to buy us more stock.'

‘Of course I meant it,' Lizzie said, and suddenly her future seemed to be glowing. Somehow she and Ed would make it through the dark days of war; they would keep going for as long as they could buy stock and sell hats… Women loved Lizzie's hats, particularly the different and unusual styles she could produce with Ed's skill and her flair, and she knew she could sell them to her special customers. ‘What shall we call the new business?'

‘We'll use your name, Lizzie,' Ed told her firmly. ‘I'm a sleeping partner and we'll have a lawyer do it right, keep it fair, because you're the senior partner, Lizzie, and you should have the bigger share – but I promise you, I'll do everything I can to make this work for you.'

‘For us, Ed,' she said and smiled. ‘Life hurts, Ed, and we've both suffered, but together we'll get through somehow…'

 

 

 

~

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