Lizzie's War (21 page)

If she could find something – something that the law might want to know… perhaps she could force him to let her go…

*

Bernie stood on the corner of the street and watched the woman walk away. He'd known it was only a matter of time before that nosy bitch came poking her oar into his business. She was just like his sodding mother! He'd noticed that bossy manner the first time he'd met her. Bernie had hated and feared his formidable mother in equal amounts. She tyrannized him until he was old enough and big enough to teach her a lesson, beating him with a cane, forcing him to go hungry if he'd wet his bed and making him look a fool when he cried and begged for love. Once he was sure of his own strength, he'd turned on her like a cornered rat. She'd learned what it was like to be shut in a cold dark cellar with things crawling over her in the blackness, to be left until the hunger gnawed at your belly and your tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth because you were so thirsty you thought you would die. Oh yes, she'd learned, his sainted mother, with her prim mouth and her black clothes, and she'd never recovered from the shock, dying of the resulting pneumonia that developed once he'd carried her back to her room after she'd fallen unconscious.

And that snooty bitch who wanted to take his wife away from him would learn too! Norm had promised to scare her, but she was made of sterner stuff. She'd got friends and they'd protected her and she was doing better than ever. Once Beth promised to marry him, he'd told Norm not to bother with the bitch anymore, but now she was round here making trouble for him – and he'd bet she'd been trying to get Beth to leave him. Well, he'd make sure she had too much to worry about to poke her snout in where it wasn't needed in future.

He hesitated and then turned away. He'd been intending to get home early and take Beth out to the theatre or the flicks for a treat, because he knew he'd treated her badly. It wasn't that he planned to hurt her, but she made him lose his temper – it was the defiant way she looked at him, as if warning him that she wasn't broken yet. And throwing that water over him had made him see red.

What had made her do it? She must have known he would punish her – she knew the routine now. If she pleased him he gave her presents and if she didn't – he took a present for himself. An unpleasant smile curled over his thick lips. Bernie knew he wasn't handsome, but he wasn't ugly either – a lot of women would lick his arse if he gave them what he gave Beth, but she hated the things he wanted her to do. He'd thought she would learn after the first time, but she still looked at him in that defiant way, and he knew that although she was frightened of his brutality at times, she was still herself inside. It was as if she had armour round her inner being and he couldn't touch her.

He wanted to go back and teach her a lesson, but then he remembered it was the other one he had to see to – if she were out of the way, Beth would have nowhere to run. Bernie had his wife's parents eating out of his hand and he knew her father thought he was a decent bloke – which left only that snooty bitch. Yeah, if she was out of the way there would be nothing left for Beth but blind obedience and that was how he liked his women.

There were a few whores around who could've told Beth it was best to take everything he handed out and keep quiet, but she was different – strangely enough it was the difference, her pride, that had drawn him to her, but after all she was just another whore when it came down to it. A decent woman would never have given birth to twins out of wedlock and kept them with her the way Beth had – most girls who got caught had the kid adopted and tried to keep it a secret, but not Beth. She'd flaunted it, almost as if she were proud of being an unmarried mother.

Bernie wanted a son of his own; it was the only reason he'd married. One of these days Beth would give him one – and then he'd get rid of her other brats. A few more months and she wouldn't dare to do anything but obey him… and in the meantime he'd tell Norm to have a little fun with the other one.

Norm loved his knife. He'd been itching to use it on that snooty bitch, but Bernie hadn't wanted her dead then. Now he'd tell Norm he could do whatever he liked…

Lizzie thought long and hard before she went to the address on the card Sebastian had given her. It was meant to be used for her protection but Beth was in trouble and Lizzie didn't know who else to turn to for help. She chose to visit as she went into work the next morning, but her first attempt brought no answer. She looked at the card again and decided to come back on her way home that evening.

As she left the bus later that evening on her way back to the address, for the first time in weeks, Lizzie felt she was being watched. She glanced round once but saw nothing, and because there were several people in the street she wasn't unduly worried, and yet just as the bus drew away she thought she glimpsed him in the shadows – the man in the overcoat and trilby hat.

A little shiver went through her. Why had it started up again? Lizzie was sure she hadn't been followed for weeks – since just before Beth got married. It took a few minutes for the significance of that to sink in and at first she just refused to believe it. Bernie couldn't have had anything to do with all that … the attacks on the shop, the broken window and the red paint – the threats. Why would he?

An explanation presented itself, but she dismissed it as being too fanciful. Surely Beth's husband wasn't the kind of man who would do something like that just because he thought Lizzie might encourage Beth to stand up for herself – and yet who would have suspected that he would hit Beth?

A horrid suspicion entered Lizzie's mind. If Bernie was behind the attacks and they'd started again, he must have reason to believe that Beth was thinking of leaving him and running to Lizzie for help. For months Beth had told him she couldn't marry because Lizzie needed her. Was that the reason he'd arranged to have her threatened and caused trouble for her at the workshops? Surely not, yet it fitted neatly enough, if you accepted that Bernie Wright – a seemingly meek-mannered man who worked hard for the war effort – was actually a mean and vindictive bully. A man moreover, who had access to violent criminals…

No, it wasn't possible. Lizzie dismissed the idea as ridiculous, but then little things began to make sense. Bernie always seemed to have money to spend, far more than most men who worked in a factory, even as the manager. He always had petrol to run Beth wherever she wanted to go… and there was the strange look in his eyes when he'd stared at Lizzie on the day of the wedding.

It wasn't much to make a case against him, but added to the bruise on Beth's cheek and the change in her, Lizzie felt it meant something – and if she were being followed again, it was a good thing she'd decided to ask Sebastian's friend for help.

She hurriedly walked to the house, knocking firmly this time. It was opened by a young woman dressed in slacks and a man's sweater, her hair cut short and swept back behind her ears. She was wearing spectacles with thick rims but took them off to peer at Lizzie.

‘Yes?'

‘I was told I could find Jack here if I needed help.'

‘Who are you?'

‘My name is Lizzie and I was given this address by Sebastian.'

‘You'd better come in,' the woman said and invited her into the hall. She led her through into the kitchen where something that smelled delicious was cooking. There was no sign of anyone else and Lizzie frowned as the woman invited her to tell her story.

‘Is Jack here? I would rather speak to him.'

‘I'm Jack,' the woman said and laughed as she saw Lizzie's face fall. ‘Don't worry, there are others – we're all Jack. It's safer that way. You can tell me what's wrong and leave it with me.'

‘What do you mean?'

Jack stirred her stewpot. ‘We'll take care of things but you won't see or hear from us – and you never come here again. This is an emergency address. I'll give you a number to ring if you need us again – but I doubt you will.'

Lizzie felt coldness at her nape. Something about this woman unnerved her and she almost wished she hadn't come, but Sebastian had told her to if she needed help and she was pretty certain she did.

It took a few minutes to tell her story, because Jack kept asking her to explain various details over and over again and she made notes on a pad in squiggles that Lizzie didn't understand but thought must be some kind of code.

‘Is that it?' Jack asked at last. Lizzie nodded. ‘OK, time to go – and remember don't ever come here again. In fact, give me that card please.'

‘What if I need you?'

Jack wrote a telephone number on a scrap of paper and Lizzie tucked it into her coat pocket. ‘Thank you,' she said and was shown to the door without another word. Jack – whoever she really was – didn't have a lot to say and she wasn't in the least comforting or friendly. Lizzie could only hope she really would be able to help her.

She left the house and saw a tram standing just down the street. Jumping on it, she discovered that she was shaking. Lizzie wasn't sure why the encounter with Jack had upset her, but perhaps it was just the whole business – which seemed sordid and unpleasant.

It was comforting to enter her house and be greeted by warmth and the smell of baking. Hatty had fresh scones and her delicious fatless Victoria sponge on the side cooling, and there was the smell of a pie baking in the oven.

‘It's rabbit pie again,' she said. ‘I'm afraid it was all I could get – but I'm sure it will be delicious and I've got some fresh runner beans and jacket potatoes to go with it.'

‘How lovely,' Lizzie said. ‘Did you have to queue for long to get them?'

‘As a matter of fact Mr Court brought them round earlier. He wanted to see you – about Beth, I understand…'

‘Ah yes, I see,' Lizzie said. ‘Has Betty been good today?'

‘She always is,' Hatty replied and smiled. ‘I don't think I've ever known such a contented baby, Lizzie. She took her first steps today. It only lasted a moment because she sat down again almost at once, but by the weekend she'll manage a few more, I should think.'

‘It's the one thing I regret about working,' Lizzie felt a flicker of disappointment. ‘I am going to miss those first moments – but at least she is safe and happy with you and that's what matters.'

‘She'll be running around and talking before you know it,' Hatty said and then gave her a long look. ‘You look tired, Lizzie?'

‘Yes, I am a little. We're busy at work, but it isn't that – just a little problem I need to take care of.'

Sebastian had told her she could rely on Jack, but from what she'd seen the woman hadn't seemed interested.

Lizzie sighed. Perhaps she ought to give Beth's father just a hint of what she suspected if he returned that evening.

*

Mr Court did not return that evening and it was not until the following day that Lizzie learned why. Janet came rushing into the showroom and asked to see her. Lizzie was smiling as she went to greet Janet, thinking she'd come to tell her some news about the social club, but one glance at her face warned her that it was serious.

‘I don't usually gossip,' she told Lizzie, looking grave, ‘but I wanted to tell you what I've just heard – it concerns that friend of yours that came to the club with you a few times.'

‘Beth,' Lizzie said.

Janet nodded. ‘Well, I've just heard some terrible news. A man down the market said that Beth's sister had died – the one who is a nurse…'

‘Mary is dead?' Lizzie stared at her in shock. ‘I don't understand. Do you know how it happened?'

‘That's what upset me,' Janet said. ‘I'd been to the undertaker's; the old lady I used to look after has died and I had to arrange things for her funeral because her nephew is away fighting – and it was while I was there that I heard him say the funeral he was arranging was for Derek Court's daughter Mary. They were discussing the arrangements and I heard the undertaker's assistant say that if the coroner decided it was suicide it would be better to have a cremation, because they wouldn't let him bury her in the churchyard…'

‘Oh, Janet, that's terrible,' Lizzie said and shook her head in disbelief. ‘I knew Mary was desperately unhappy – but suicide…?'

‘Well, I don't know for sure, but I'm sure that's what I heard the assistant say…'

‘I shall have to go and see the family,' Lizzie said. ‘I don't suppose you could give us a hand for an hour or so, Janet? Tilly will tell you want she wants you to do and Jean will go in the showroom –we're working on a big order but I ought to go round at once.'

‘Of course I will, if you think I can do it.'

‘Tilly will help you. It's just the same as usual, but I can do with extra help today.'

She left Janet to take her hat and coat off and then set off to catch her bus in a hurry. It was broad daylight, a pleasant summer day, and Lizzie didn't even bother to glance over her shoulder. Her shadow only came out at night.

She was feeling tense and upset as she paid her fare and looked out of the window at the busy streets. Things were getting back to a kind of normality since the heavy bombing had stopped back at the end of May, but the scars of the Blitz were everywhere. Large gaps where shops and houses had been; the rubble had been cleared in some cases, but the gaps were a reminder of all the horror. Lizzie sometimes wondered why she had been so lucky, both her home and her business had survived – as had Beth's home. Yet perhaps both she and Beth had had more than enough tragedy in their lives without being bombed…She pushed the thoughts from her mind as she saw they were coming to the stop she needed.

A short time later, she stood outside Mrs Court's house and hesitated, knowing how devastated the family must be, and then knocked the door. Dottie answered and looked relieved to see her.