Lizzie's War (31 page)

She'd been to the doctor, explaining in confidence that she believed her husband had been with prostitutes, and asked him to make sure she didn't have a venereal disease. He'd done some tests and reassured her that she was perfectly healthy, but Beth couldn't help feeling unclean, even though she'd scrubbed the memory of his touch from her body. Bernie had sapped her confidence and made her feel unworthy, but she knew she had to fight those feelings, because her children depended on her and she had to be a good mother. She mustn't let Bernie's shadow spoil her life, if not for her own sake for that of Matt and Jenny.

Now that the news had broken, there was a lot of gossip concerning Bernie's secret life. People were shocked that a man who had seemed so respectable had owned and run brothels. It wasn't easy to accept the odd looks she got from women in the market when she went shopping, and more than once she heard herself described as being the wife of
that
Bernie Winters… the one that had died in the factory fire and had been involved with houses of ill repute…

However, it wasn't until the beginning of December that Beth was confronted by a woman in the street who demanded to know how she could live with herself, carrying on as if nothing had happened.

‘What do you mean?' Beth asked, startled and shocked by the woman's belligerence. ‘Why shouldn't I?'

‘Keeping a brothel that's what I heard… and you living off the proceeds. You should be ashamed of yourself.'

‘How was I supposed to know what he was doing?' Beth demanded hotly. ‘And the police have confiscated all of the houses so I shan't get a penny and I wouldn't take it if I was offered it…'

The woman looked at her in disbelief and stalked off, leaving Beth feeling shaken. There had been real malice in the woman's voice and her eyes were hard with hatred. Beth was on the verge of tears and knew she needed to sit down. A strong cup of coffee was in order. She walked blindly into the nearest café and sat down, ordering from the waitress when she came over.

‘I'd 'ave the tea, love,' she said. ‘The coffee is awful.'

Beth nodded her head. She didn't feel like talking and when someone came up to her table and asked if he could sit down she looked up with the words of denial on her lips, but there, looking much as he always had but stronger and older, was Tony.

‘Tony…what are you doing here?' she breathed his name, unexpected emotion blinding her eyes as she saw him wearing his uniform. ‘Yes, of course, if you wish.'

‘I'm on leave,' he said, his gaze narrowing in concern. ‘What's wrong, Beth? Has something upset you?'

‘Yes… a woman in the market. She was quite unpleasant… about Bernie…'

‘Your late husband?' Tony sat down and looked at her. ‘I've seen your father. He told me all about it, Beth. I'm really sorry for all you've been through. I'm not just saying that, love. You didn't deserve it after everything else.'

She hadn't expected him to show such sympathy and understanding, but he seemed different, older perhaps? Beth blinked back her tears as the waitress arrived with what looked more like dishwater than tea. Tony gave the girl sixpence from his pocket to pay for the tea and then stood up and took hold of Beth's arm.

‘Come on, I'll buy you a proper drink in the pub. It looks as if you could do with a sherry.'

‘If they've got any,' Beth said and gave him a wobbly smile. ‘Thanks, Tony. I could do with some company.'

‘I've got broad shoulders,' he said and grinned at her. ‘Come and tell me all about it…'

Beth liked the feel of his strong arm about his waist. Tony had grown up, become stronger and more decisive since they'd courted. It was clearly the influence of the Army and the things he'd seen. She rather liked him as he was now and found herself thinking regretfully of what might have been.

When they were seated at the table in the pub with their drinks in front of them, she looked at him thoughtfully. ‘Dad said you're engaged to be married. Is it to the girl who works in your shop?'

‘Yes. Vera has looked after everything while I've been away, kept it ticking over, though it isn't exactly a goldmine. I might have done better to wait for a while, until the war was over.'

‘Do you think it ever will be?'

‘In the end we shall beat them,' he said and there was a hint of steel in his eyes, which she found oddly reassuring. ‘I know things look black most of the time, but our boys are determined – whatever they do we shan't break. We'll beat them in the end – but we need the Yanks. Once they're in, the numbers will be on our side.'

‘If it ever happens.'

‘It will. I'm sure it will one day,' he said, ‘but tell me what is upsetting you, Beth – what did that old harridan say to you?'

Beth explained and Tony's brow furrowed. ‘She had no right to attack you for what Bernie did. It's not your fault… Bernie's ill-gotten gains will be dealt with by the authorities. ‘Did he have any cash hidden away that you know of?'

‘What I found, Dad took to the police at the start.'

‘Then your conscience is clear.'

‘I suppose there's the house,' Beth said. ‘I've been told it is mine, Tony. It belonged to Bernie's family and there's no one else to inherit – but I don't want it. I don't want anything of his…'

‘You should sell it and put the money away for the kids, unless you need it?'

‘I might, but I live with Lizzie and I have a share in Oliver's old business, so I earn enough to keep them. It isn't a lot, but it makes the difference between having some savings and not knowing where the next penny is coming from.'

‘Yes, your father said you were an independent woman. I'm glad you've come through this so well, Beth. I'm proud of you for standing up to that monster – and I'm glad you're happy.'

‘I wouldn't say I was happy,' Beth told him. ‘I've got the children, my parents and friends… but…' she left the rest unsaid, because there was nothing she could say. It was better to end this now. ‘Thanks for the drink and for cheering me up and setting me straight. I hope you have a good life, Tony – and I'm pleased you've found someone to love.'

‘Beth…' Tony hesitated for a moment, seemed as if he wanted to speak and then changed his mind. ‘Yes. Vera is a lovely girl and we're getting married at Christmas. Good luck, Beth…'

Beth nodded, feeling wistful as she got up and walked away, because if she hadn't she would have let her feelings show too much. Tony had wanted her to help him with his shop when they'd been courting before the war. If only she'd agreed to give up her job when he'd wanted her to. Perhaps then she would never have felt the hurt and pain the last couple of years had brought her – but of course then she wouldn't have had the twins and she wouldn't change them for the world.

Lifting her head, Beth made sure she'd got her shopping and left the pub. It had cheered her up talking to Tony. Before he'd joined the Army, he'd been young and a bit on the selfish side, but now he was a man and she liked what she'd seen of him. Vera was a lucky girl. Beth knew that if she had another chance with him she would take it – even though the memory of what Bernie had done still sickened her.

Fortunately, he hadn't broken her. Perhaps if she'd been made differently he would have succeeded in breaking her spirit, but it was only bruised. Beth had been living under a cloud since her marriage, but now she saw the clouds could be blown away. It was up to her to get on with her life and that was just what she intended to do…

It was ten days before Christmas and Lizzie was at home with Beth. They were putting the finishing touches to various presents they were making for the children. Despite the doom and gloom that the war continued to cast, they had decided to make this a good Christmas for the little ones. In early December the Japanese air force had attacked Pearl Harbour, and because of it, the Americans had now joined the war effort. Everyone said that it was sure to make the difference and things would get easier now they were in. However, the news was increasingly bad from Asia and in other parts of the world. Churchill had decreed that the collection of scrap metal must intensify and everyone was asked to give what they could spare. Life was hard in Britain and it was impossible to buy new toys for the children, so they'd decided to make what they could themselves. And they were having Beth's family and Aunt Miriam to Christmas dinner, everyone contributing what they could to the meal. Hatty was spending Christmas with her daughter-in-law, even though she'd told Lizzie she'd miss being with them all.

Aunt Miriam was now working part-time for Lizzie three days a week in her showroom. She'd also joined an afternoon tea dance club for older ladies and went dancing once a week on a Thursday afternoon. She looked younger and happier and Lizzie wondered if she might have met a gentleman at the tea dances, though as yet she hadn't mentioned anyone.

‘I've finished Jenny's party dress,' Beth said and put down her sewing. ‘I think I'll put the kettle on…' A ring at the door interrupted her and she sighed. ‘Who can that be at this hour?'

‘No idea – perhaps Hatty forgot her key?'

Beth was on her feet. ‘I'll go…'

Hatty had gone visiting with one of her daughters-in-law and wasn't expected back until later. Lizzie snipped her cotton and held the dress she'd made for Aunt Miriam's Christmas gift up to look at it. She'd sewn tape to the hem to make it hang better, as the material available wasn't as good quality as she would've liked, but Miriam would be pleased.

‘Lizzie…' Beth had returned to the sitting room looking strange. ‘There's a man at the door. He wants to speak to you – says he has a message for you; he wouldn't give it to me…'

Lizzie felt a chill at her nape. She rose and went through to the hall. Outside the door, a man wearing a raincoat and a trilby pulled low over his forehead reminded her of the man who had once threatened her and she hesitated, half afraid of his intentions. But as she reached him, he spoke and she was reassured.

‘I'm Jack,' he said. ‘I've got news for you, Mrs Winters and it isn't good.'

‘Won't you come in?' Lizzie asked, beginning to feel shaky at the mention of that name. Sebastian had told her to go to Jack if she needed help, but only in an emergency. Why had he come now? She felt frightened as she saw the serious expression on his face.

‘What is it…what's wrong?'

He stepped into the hall but avoided moving into the light. ‘Sebastian made me promise that I would tell you myself if the news was bad. Something went wrong with his mission and he disappeared – about three months ago. We hoped he might turn up somewhere but he hasn't. I can't offer you proof that he's dead, but neither can I offer you hope that he's alive…'

‘I see…' Lizzie swayed, reaching out for the wall. Three months back was about the time she'd had that dream, the strong premonition that Sebastian was hurt and calling for her. A firm hand took hold of her arm and for a moment she looked into a pale face with piercing grey eyes. ‘But you don't know for sure either way?'

‘I know that it isn't like him to break contact for this long,' he said. ‘I can't tell you anymore and I must ask you not to talk about what I have told you – but your husband is a brave man.'

‘I know,' Lizzie said and the silent tears were streaming down her face.

‘You have a friend here with you?'

‘Yes…'

He nodded, went out and closed the door behind him. She wanted to scream at him to stop, to demand to know all the details he hadn't told her, but she didn't. She felt numbed, drained of emotion, empty.

Lizzie sank to her knees, covering her face with her hands. It couldn't be true – Sebastian dead? No, she wouldn't believe it, didn't want to believe that she would never see him again. The tears were slipping down her cheeks as the numbness began to wear off and she felt the pain strike at her heart, and a cry of despair left her lips.

‘Lizzie… Lizzie love, what is it?' Beth was suddenly there with her arms about her, holding her as she wept, sobbing wildly now as the grief poured out of her.

‘He said Sebastian is missing presumed dead…'

‘Oh, Lizzie…' Beth's lips were on her hair, her arms tight around her as they rocked together in grief. ‘No, it's not fair. You've suffered enough; it can't happen… not again…'

Lizzie didn't know how long they stayed there on their knees, Beth holding her, sharing her grief, doing what she could to comfort her. In the end her grief wore itself out and she stood up, pulling her friend to her feet. She found a handkerchief and wiped the tears from her cheeks.

‘I'm not going to accept it,' she said. ‘I know every woman who gets this sort of message refuses to believe it at first, but I can't… I can't….'

‘I felt like that when Mark went missing,' Beth said, ‘but his ship was lost at sea and after a few months I knew he really was gone and I had to accept it – but perhaps you'll be luckier…' She frowned and looked puzzled. ‘Why did he come to the house instead of sending a telegram?'

‘He told me that he'd promised Sebastian that he would tell me if anything happened. Apparently, Sebastian has disappeared.'

They were back in the kitchen now. Lizzie put the kettle on automatically. A cup of tea wouldn't change things, but it was the first thing that came to mind when you'd had a shock. She knew that she was probably letting herself hope for no good reason, but something inside her just wouldn't let go.

Beth folded up the piece of sewing she'd finished and then looked at Lizzie doubtfully. ‘Will you go on with the Christmas party now?'

‘Of course,' Lizzie said. ‘I can't let everyone down, Beth. Aunt Miriam is looking forward to it and your mum and the children. I'll get through it and I'll get through the days and months ahead – until I know for certain that Sebastian isn't coming back to me.'