Lizzie's Secret (8 page)

‘Of course we are,' he said. ‘But I was feeling low when you offered to help, Lizzie, and I'm truly grateful.'

‘Think nothing of it. I'll see you on Monday morning,' Lizzie said. ‘Bye for now – have a nice evening '

*

Lizzie's dress that evening was pale grey silky rayon. Her aunt had made it for her some months earlier but Lizzie had removed the little white collar that had made it look so school-girlish and altered the front so that it dipped in a sweetheart neckline. She'd taken the bodice in with darts that made it fit into her waist rather than blousing out and being caught in with a belt; it looked almost as smart as the black dress she wore for work. Lizzie would've liked something in a bright colour, perhaps pale blue, but she couldn't afford to buy a new dress.

She wished she'd got a locket or a necklace of some kind, but she'd never had one, and her mother's silver cross was too precious to be worn in case she lost it, but she had got her pearl earrings that Uncle Jack had bought her for her birthday. Her shoes were the good black suede ones she'd bought when she was still earning reasonable wages, and her uncle had kept them in good repair so that they looked nearly new.

Slipping on the jacket she used for work, Lizzie packed her nightdress and toothbrush and went out to catch the tram that would take her to Beth's home. She sat next to a window, looking out at the busy roads as the tram moved off, its bell making a clanging sound.

Getting off at the nearest stop to Beth's street, Lizzie walked past several grimy buildings, small manufacturers and a small corner shop, before turning into the rows of terraced houses. On warm days she fancied you could smell the docks from here, the stink of diesel oil and fumes lay heavy in the air and you could just see the tops of tall cranes on the dockside. A dog was hunting hopefully in the gutters, its tail wagging. A young girl was playing with hoops in the street and a man with a barrow was transporting a folded-up mattress and some bits and pieces from one of the houses, trundling down the cobbled street.

Lizzie smiled as she reached Beth's front door, which looked cleaner than any of the others in the street. Beth's mother welcomed her warmly, taking her upstairs to deposit her things and telling her that Beth had just popped out to the corner shop to get something for her.

‘She won't be five minutes,' Mrs Court said, leading Lizzie back down into the kitchen. ‘I'm just pressing Beth's dress for her. What are you wearing this evening?'

‘This dress,' Lizzie said, feeling a little uneasy as she saw the lovely yellow and white spotted voile dress Mrs Court had been pressing. Lizzie could imagine what Beth would look like wearing it and suddenly felt dowdy. ‘I don't have anything like Beth's dress…'

‘Beth is a lucky girl, because her father gave her some money towards this,' Mrs Court said, looking Lizzie over. ‘Your dress fits you nicely, Lizzie – but perhaps it could do with a brooch or a little necklace.'

‘I don't have anything…' Lizzie half wished she'd worn her mother's silver cross, but it meant too much to her to risk losing it.

‘Well, I'm sure I can find something you can borrow,' Mrs Court said. ‘I know! I've got a lovely blue silk rose; it would just give a touch of colour to that dress, Lizzie…'

‘Yes, it would,' Lizzie agreed. ‘If you don't mind lending it to me.'

‘I'll just fetch it…'

Within minutes she was back and she pinned the little arrangement of a blue silk rose, some veiling and a soft feathery thing, to the shoulder of Lizzie's dress.

‘Take a look in the mirror, dear…'

Lizzie did so and smiled. The flower arrangement made her plain dress look stylish and pretty.

‘It's lovely, thank you. I'll take good care of it for you.'

‘Nonsense, it's a little present,' Mrs Court said. ‘I never go anywhere to wear it and it suits your dress.'

Just then, Beth returned with some shopping for her mother. She smiled to see Lizzie, told her she looked nice and swooped on her own dress, carrying it off upstairs to change. Lizzie fastened the little buttons at the back for her and Beth sat down to fluff up her hair at the mirror. She sprayed some light perfume on her wrists and behind her ears and handed the atomiser to Lizzie.

‘Have a little if you like,' she offered. ‘Tony gave it to me for Christmas.'

‘Are you sure?'

‘Of course I'm sure,' Beth said. ‘We're friends and we share what we have, Lizzie.' Lizzie used a tiny drop of the perfume from the pretty atomiser. ‘Tony is paying for the tickets tonight. He can afford it; he's worked overtime every night this week and he's jolly well going to give us a good time this evening.'

‘He is very kind and generous, but I'm happy to pay for myself.'

‘Next time, but this is Tony's treat,' Beth said. ‘I love your shoes. Are they new?'

‘No, they just look new because my uncle repairs them and brushes them to keep them nice,' Lizzie said and looked at her hair. ‘Should I wear it down this evening, Beth?'

‘Sit down and let me see what we can do.'

Lizzie obeyed and Beth wielded the brush. Lizzie's hair was shoulder-length and had a little wave when it was loose, but the ends were uneven, because her aunt usually trimmed it when it got too long. She watched wide-eyed as Beth brandished the scissors and started loping bits off. As a nicer shape emerged, Lizzie smiled in the mirror. ‘I like it, Beth. Cut a bit more off so it looks like a bob…'

‘Are you sure?'

‘Yes please.' Lizzie felt reckless; her aunt might grumble but suddenly she didn't care. She looked more attractive as her hair got shorter, more of a modern girl than the old-fashioned schoolmarm her aunt seemed to want her to be. When Beth had finished, Lizzie swung her head and her hair moved enticingly. She patted it with her hand. ‘I love it. It makes me feel different.'

‘You certainly look different,' Beth said. ‘Here, use a little of this powder on your cheeks – and this pink lipstick.'

Lizzie obeyed and laughed when Beth did a Wow. ‘I feel wonderful. Even my dress looks better now.'

‘Your dress suits you,' Beth said a bit doubtfully. ‘Next time buy blue or green or something brighter if you can.'

‘Next time is a long way off,' Lizzie said, ‘but I do like blue. Your dress is gorgeous, Beth.'

‘Dad gave me the money to buy it' Beth said. ‘It was for my birthday but I haven't worn it many times.' She glanced at the little watch she was wearing. ‘Tony will be here shortly. Come on, we don't want to miss anything…'

The big room was crowded; a sparkling ball hanging from the ceiling sent showers of a pinkish light over the polished wood floor. Lizzie had never been in a proper ballroom and she was impressed. The band was seated on a stage at one end and there was a room next door where a bar was open and some couples were already drinking wine.

‘We don't want anything yet,' Beth said when Tony offered to buy them drinks. ‘Later, after we've danced a few times.' She looked at Lizzie and smiled naughtily as Tony took her off to dance. ‘I'm not deserting you, love – look who's here waiting for you…'

Lizzie glanced round and saw Harry Oliver. He was wearing a smart navy suit with a little stripe in the material and a pale blue shirt with a navy tie; his black shoes were shiny patent and he looked so smart that she would have felt dowdy without her new hairstyle and the corsage pinned to her dress.

‘Lizzie, you look gorgeous,' Harry said, his eyes moving over her with approval. ‘You ought to wear blue. That flower is your colour… and your hair is wonderful. I never realised just how pretty you were.'

‘I'm not pretty,' Lizzie said, her cheeks warming.

‘Wrong word. You're bloody beautiful!'

‘Harry Oliver! There's no need to swear at me.'

‘I'm just stunned. You must admit you do look a bit stuffy at work – but that new style brings out the colour of your eyes. I never realised that your hair has red lights in it before, and your eyes aren't brown… they're hazel…'

‘Were you going to ask me to dance?' Lizzie said, embarrassed. ‘I've no idea how to do this one. Beth showed me a few steps, but I'm not sure…'

Harry grinned and took her hand possessively. ‘I'm a great dancer, Lizzie. All you have to do is follow me…'

Lizzie shook her head at his arrogance, but as he led her into the dance she discovered that he wasn't bragging. She relaxed, letting him direct her around the floor, sometimes by a whispered word and sometimes just by a flexing of his body. Harry told her the band was playing a Bing Crosby song.

‘The singer isn't a patch on Bing,' Harry said, ‘but he's the world's best crooner in my opinion. I love to listen to Bing on my gramophone.'

‘We don't have one, but I have heard this song on the radio.'

‘I'll show you my collection of records one day,' he promised, and pulled her in closer. ‘You smell wonderful, Lizzie. How about being my girl? We can go out for meals and to the flicks… and I'll take you on the Serpentine.'

‘We don't really know one another…' Dancing with Harry was like a dream for Lizzie. She'd never expected to feel like this but she wasn't sure whether it was the thrill of being here or being held in his arms.

‘If you don't say yes we never shall. I'm leaving at the end of next month to join up. Things are warming up and everyone in the know says there'll be a war by the autumn. If I'm away flying kites for the RAF, I'll want someone to write to… and I really do like you, Lizzie.'

Harry could be so persuasive. She knew he was lazy at work, arrogant and sometimes careless of others, but deep down she rather liked him – and, like her uncle said, it was time she went out and had fun…

‘All right, I'll come out with you on Saturdays, and we can have a coffee on Wednesday nights. I visit Ed and his wife then and you can meet me afterwards and walk me home – if you want.'

‘Well, that will do for starters,' Harry nuzzled her neck. ‘I'm falling for you, Lizzie Larch, and one day you'll know we were made for each other.'

*

‘Your friend's all right,' Tony said as he led Beth into the waltz. She's loosened up a bit as the evening's gone on. I think that chap of hers has been buying her gin and orange all night.'

‘I doubt if Lizzie would drink gin. It's just that she was nervous at first. I think she was afraid she was going to sit around and watch us all the time – but when I told Harry she was coming he jumped at the chance. I think he's sweet on her, though he's a bit arrogant; boss's nephew and set to inherit the business.'

‘Lizzie should grab him while she has the chance then,' Tony said. ‘I've seen another shop I like. The other one was useless because the rooms were so tiny, and I want it to be our home until I can afford a nice house with a garden.'

‘I still think you would be better to leave it for a while. Everyone thinks a war is coming despite what Mr Chamberlain says…'

‘I know I'll be called up, and that's why I want to get a place of my own. If your father sees me as a serious businessman he'll let us get married sooner, Beth. We've got to make him see sense, because if there is a war, I could be killed and we would never have…'

Beth was silent, because a part of her agreed with every word. She'd heard her parents talking about the war and the fact that her brother would have to go and Dottie would lose her husband to the war too, Mary as well if she was married by then. They'd spoken of heartbreak and the pain they'd experienced in the last war – and Beth didn't know what she'd do if Tony was killed.

‘At least we can save Beth from that,' her father had said. ‘Dotty and Mary will be married, we can't change that, and the lad will have to go – but Beth is too young to go through it. If Tony comes back and she feels the same, fine, but if he doesn't…'

‘You don't think it's a little unfair to deny them a chance of happiness?' Beth's mother replied.

‘A brief happiness that could lead to Beth being a widow, with a child before she's hardly married? No, that's not my idea of happiness, love.'

‘Well, you can ask,' Beth said to Tony now, remembering that conversation, ‘but I don't think Dad is going to change his mind.' Her father was trying to protect her but didn't seem to care how she felt or that she was unhappy.

Their dance ended and Beth went off to the cloakroom to freshen up and get her emotions under control.. When she returned, she looked for Tony. He was standing at the entrance to the bar talking to a flashy blonde – Sylvia Butcher. Beth's nails curled into her palms as she saw the way the other girl fluttered her long lashes at him. Sylvia was wearing far too much make-up in Beth's opinion, and her hair wasn't natural blonde – and that dress revealed too much of her bosom. If he was taken in by that cheap tart… she felt her temper rising but controlled it as she made her way to join Harry and Lizzie. They were watching as the next dance began. It was a military two-step and more complicated than some of the others.

‘This is one of my favourites,' Beth said as she joined them.

‘Mine too,' Harry said. ‘Lizzie didn't fancy trying – how about you, Beth? You don't mind, Lizzie?'

‘Of course not. Go on, Beth. I'll watch you and memorise the steps so I can have a go next time.'

Beth let herself be swept away into the lively dance. Harry was a marvellous dancer, much better than Tony, and she was soon enjoying herself. Towards the end of the dance they passed Lizzie, who was now standing with Tony. ‘I'm really glad you asked me to come this evening,' Harry said as their dance ended. ‘Lizzie looks great, doesn't she?'

‘She's always been pretty,' Beth said. ‘It's the awful clothes her aunt makes her wear and the way she scraped back her hair. Anyone would think she wanted to look plain, but I know Lizzie longs to have fun – her aunt's so strict…'