Liza (34 page)

‘
I’d like to call on Iris Cruikshank,’ said Liza, ‘but that’s all.’

‘
I can drive you there,’ William offered, ‘and have a word with her myself. Would you like that?’

Liza had been looking forward to the walk but she said, without hesitation,
‘Yes, please.’

‘
Afterwards we can go down to the sea and stroll along the shore.’

That was better.
‘Lovely.’

They drove out in the Vauxhall in the quiet of a Sunday morning. The children were there as always, scattering before the car and running after it. When William braked outside the
tagareen shop they clustered together at a cautious distance. The neighbours had come to their doors, and Liza recognised the buxom Mrs Robson. She waved to her, and was acknowledged, after a moment’s shy hesitation, by a plump, red hand. Mrs Robson was a little overawed by the motor-car and William. The door of the shop was shut. Of course, it’s Sunday, Liza thought. But then Mrs Robson called, ‘Just a minute, Miss! Our Alice! Run upstairs and fetch that key off the nail by the door.’ Alice was a skinny girl of six or seven, in a brown dress and white pinny, with darns in her black stockings. She dived past her mother into the passage.

Mrs Robson hurried over to Liza and William.
‘Iris gave me a key so I could get in.’ Almost immediately Alice burst out of the passage, brandishing the key, which she handed to her mother. She unlocked the door and pushed it open. ‘There y’are, Miss — sir.’

‘
Thank you.’ Liza led the way into the shop, William at her heels. ‘I’ve come to see you, Iris,’ she called. Then she remembered. ‘It’s Cecily! I’ve brought Captain Morgan with me.’ All would be lost if Iris addressed her as Liza.

‘
Aye, come through.’

They obeyed, William ducking his head under the lintel of the kitchen door. Iris was baking, a floury board on the kitchen table and a bowl of dough left on the hearth to rise, covered with a clean teacloth. She still wore her black cap, now with a dusting of flour. She rubbed her hands on her white apron, then hugged Liza.
‘Sit yourself down and I’ll make you a cup of tea.’ She eyed William. ‘Have you come for an apology?’

‘
No. It’s water under the bridge now.’

‘
That’s true, but I’m sorry an’ all.’ Iris held out her hand and William shook it. She looked from him to Liza and back again. ‘I hope you’re being good to her.’

‘
I’m trying.’

Iris studied him for some seconds and he met her gaze. She nodded,
‘Aye,’ then set the kettle on the fire. Now then, we’ll have a cup o’ tea, and you can tell me all about your trip to London.’

Liza did, but only the events she could mention in front of William. Iris listened eagerly, nodding and smiling.

When they left Iris told William, ‘I’m pleased you came, and glad to have a crack wi’ you after all these years. Now go on, I want a word wi’ the lass.’ William ducked under the lintel again and she watched his broad back as he walked through the shop. ‘He’s a big feller.’

Liza grimaced.
‘He frightens me to death.’ And when Iris stared, she explained, ‘I’m afraid he’ll find me out. I can’t bear to think how angry he’d be. He wouldn’t strike me, there’s no question of that, but he’d give me a look that would shrivel me.’

Iris clicked her tongue.
‘Away wi’ ye. Ye’ve nowt to fear from him.’ Then, squeezing Liza’s arm, she added, ‘You’ve got a real man there.’

She blushed.
‘No.’

But Iris nodded.
‘We’ll see.’

Liza escaped, making a mental note that Iris saw too much that could not be and that she would not bring William again. She caught up with him at the door. They locked it and Mrs Robson came puffing for the key. Liza smiled and thanked her.

‘You’re welcome, Miss.’ And then, ‘Did she tell you about her turn?’

‘
No?’

Mrs Robson nodded knowingly.
‘I thought so. Well, it was last Thursday. It was just lucky that Ada — that’s Mrs Millan that lives downstairs from us — she looked in to see if Iris was all right and there she was, sitting at the bottom o’ the stairs, gasping for breath. Ada ran and fetched me and I sent Alice to the pub on the corner for some brandy. She came back and we gave Iris a drop and that brought her round, but she did look bad. And what was the first words she said when she could speak? “I’m canny now,” she said. She’s poorly and she won’t admit it. I thought she wouldn’t say anything to you.’

‘
Thank you for telling me,’ Liza said. Iris had talked of resting, but how could she after a lifetime of work? ‘I’ll talk to her next time I come.’

‘
I wish you would, Miss. She won’t listen to us.’

They settled into the Vauxhall and drove off up the hill, chased by a crowd of cheering children for the first hundred yards. Then they crossed the bridge over the river and went down to the sea. There they left the car and set off on foot along the shore. Liza kept her hat tied on because there was a blustery wind, and they walked from the pier to the fishermen
’s cottages at Whitburn.

‘
The word Iris wanted with you, is that a secret?’ William asked.

‘
Yes.’

‘
Something about me?’

‘
You’re fishing.’

‘
I am.’

They both laughed but he probed again:
‘Well? Was it about the feud? Or was she warning you about the sailor with a girl in every port?’

Liza decided this had to be stopped.
‘She was very complimentary, and I’ll tell you what she said a week today.’

‘
Why a week?’

‘
To test your control over your curiosity.’

He frowned.
‘Is this some game?’

Then a sudden gust blew her into his arms and they laughed
again. But he held her, gazing down into her face and she said breathlessly, ‘I’m all right now. Please.’

He released her reluctantly and they walked on, but now he kept her arm in his.
‘Very well, I’ll wait until Sunday,’ he said.

She knew that next Sunday she would be gone.

* * *

On Monday Liza and Elspeth worked ostensibly as pupil and teacher, but in fact they were a team. They were washing and polishing glasses in the crowded kitchen. The cook was preparing lunch, with the assistance of the scullery-maid and a lethargic Doreen, while Gibson and Cully, the gardener, had their mid-morning tea. It was a situation familiar to Liza from her experience in many such kitchens and she sank into it happily. Furthermore, her presence was now accepted by the others.

At one point she caught a sulky look from Doreen and murmured, ‘She doesn’t seem very happy today.’

Elspeth sniffed.
‘I’m not surprised. I gave her notice while you were away. She’s working it out, and doing as little as she can and still be paid.’

Liza bit her lip. She knew how it felt to be given notice; that was what had brought her to this place. She was sorry for Doreen, despite the hatred she knew the girl felt for her.
‘I hope it wasn’t my fault.’

‘
No,’ Elspeth said brusquely. ‘She’s nobody to blame but herself.’ She glanced at Liza. ‘When you run a house like this you sometimes have to dismiss a girl or a chap. It might be for laziness, incompetence or theft, but you still have to do it.’

‘
Yes, I know,’ agreed Liza, but was no happier about Doreen’s fate.

Now she had a trayful of sparkling glasses. She picked it up and carried it, balanced on one hand, through the
crowded kitchen to the front of the house to return them to the cupboard from which they had come.

*
* *

Elspeth watched approvingly, but then two creases came between her brows and she thought, That
’s strange — at which point Doreen shoved a pan carelessly on to the kitchen table. It slid off the edge and boiling water sluiced over the kitchen floor. Elspeth exploded: ‘For God’s sake, girl, can’t you do anything right?’ In the commotion she forgot what she had been thinking about.

*
* *

William came home in the early evening when Liza was bathing, preparing to dress for dinner. He rapped on her door.
‘Yes?’ she called.

‘
I’ve had enough for one day. Let’s go to a show and have some supper afterwards. Or are you too tired?’

‘
No!’ She was not tired at all now. ‘Let’s do it — please!’

They had a light meal, then drove into town and settled, just in time, into the stalls at the Empire. Later they had supper at the Palace Hotel, then walked on to the bridge and leaned on the balustrade, looking down on the river. The shipyards were still and silent now, the coal staiths standing gaunt against the sky.

‘Will you leave us when you inherit?’ William asked.

Liza had not been ready for that.
‘I don’t know. I haven’t given any thought to it,’ was all she could say. Anyway, she was going perforce.

He turned her to face him.
‘I would like you to stay. I—’

‘
Don’t say any more, please. I’ll answer any question you like next Sunday.’

His brows came down.

‘Will you wait? Please?’ she whispered.

‘
Very well,’ he agreed reluctantly, but she shut his mouth with her own, on tiptoe and clinging to him, arms round his neck. Then she broke away and he followed her back to the Vauxhall.

*
* *

Before he slept William recalled their conversation of the previous day and wondered if the new Cecily was reverting to her old ways and toying with him. He had dealt with that two years ago when he had bundled her out of his room, and would again if need be. He would be no woman
’s poodle. He would have answers on Sunday or they would go their separate ways.

*
* *

Liza stared at the ceiling. She had struck a bargain with Cecily in gratitude for her life, and had paid her debt. She would leave this man and this house because she must, and Cecily would claim the place that was rightfully hers.

* * *

The train pulled into the station in the dusk and a porter strode along the platform, bawling,
‘Monkwearmouth! Monkwearmouth!’ It was in Sunderland, on the north shore of the river Wear. Jasper Barbour emerged from the train, materialising out of a cloud of smoke and steam like an evil genie. He was bearded now, his coat collar turned up. Flora Gibb was by his side, in a cape with a fold of it across her face. They escaped the porter’s notice and carried their own luggage — they had between them only one small case and Jasper’s new Gladstone bag. Outside the station, with its Greek columns, Jasper growled, ‘Now, where’s this house you’ve rented?’

Flora hurried along by his side.
‘Across the road and down Barclay Street. Just a couple of minutes’ walk.’

They found the villa, walked up the path through the little garden and let themselves in with the key. Jasper glanced
around perfunctorily, then passed through the narrow hall and out of the kitchen into the yard. There was the usual lavatory and coal-shed with a wash-house in one corner. He ignored them. There was also a strip of garden some eight feet by four, and he thought he would find a use for that. He opened the gate and stepped out into the cobbled back lane. It was dark, without a light except for the gas lamp that stood in the street running across the end of it.

At his side Flora asked,
‘Did I do right? Is it how you wanted?’

‘
Perfect. You can get a body in and out of here without a soul seeing you.’

‘
A body!’ Flora gasped. ‘Oh, Jasper, I wish—’

‘
Just a manner o’ speaking. I’m talking about her, Cecily Spencer that sent me down. And don’t you worry, I’m only going to give her a leathering, like I’ve told you before.’

‘
But how will you do it?’ Flora persisted. ‘There’ll be police all over and they’ll know who did it.’

‘
I’ll find a way,’ he told her impatiently. ‘Now, get that bottle out o’ the case. We’ll have a drink and then you can earn your keep.’ He pushed her ahead of him towards the house. He knew that she believed him — if only because she wanted to.

*
* *

On Tuesday morning Liza ran down the stairs in time, as usual, to join William for breakfast before he drove to his offices. He looked up from his newspaper and grinned.
‘Ah! The celebrity.’ He held up the paper. ‘Last night’s
Echo
.’ She saw that
The
Times
had been laid aside. ‘I brought this home last night but never read it. I fear Jock or Mrs McAvoy has told the press of your exploits, probably a reporter from one of the Newcastle papers and they passed it on to the
Echo
. There you are.’ He pointed to a paragraph headed: ‘Young Lady’s Sea Adventures’. Liza read. It was all there, how Miss Cecily Spencer had crossed to the
Frances
Hopkinson
to assist the tearful Bridget McAvoy, and later plunged into the sea in an attempt to rescue Mickey from drowning.