Our Lizzie
Authors: Anna Jacobs
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Contents
Acknowledgments
For Sharon Micenkoâa wonderful, steadfast friend and another of those writing women!
And I would also like to express my grateful thanks to Margaret Memdelawitz, who kindly lent me the World War I memorabilia of her grandfather Edward Peyton Whitfield that gave me such a vivid window on the times in which Lizzie lived.
Chapter One
September 1908
“Eeh, our Lizzie, don't do it! You'll get what for if Mam finds out.”
Her sister Eva's words were all Lizzie needed to push her into accepting the dare. She tossed back her straight dark hair, half of which had fallen out of its plaits as usual, and scrambled up on top of the wall which kept the end of their street from sliding down the hillâat least, her dad said it did. The wall was only three feet high, but the drop on the other side was about twenty feet and suddenly, as she stood there wobbling and staring down, she wondered if this was a good idea.
Glancing over her shoulder, however, she saw the triumphant expression on Mary Holden's face and gritted her teeth. She wasn't going to back out now, not when her arch-enemy had dared her to walk right along the top of the wall.
Straightening up, she spread out her arms. That felt better. Glancing back again at the other girl, who was watching her now with a tight, annoyed expression on her plump face, she jeered, “It's no worse than walking along the edge of the pavement. See! Easy! Your turn next.”
But it wasn't easy and Lizzie had a funny, shivery feeling in her stomach as she faced the narrow line of bricks. Taking a deep breath and keeping her eyes off the drop on her right, she began to walk slowly forward, one foot in its scuffed shoe edging into place in front of the other. There was nothing in the dare about doing it quickly, after all, just getting to the far end without falling off.
As Lizzie continued to move, her confidence rose. Ha! She would do it all right and then wouldn't Mary Holden look stupid? Because she wouldn't dare do this. She had a big mouth on her, but no guts. Five steps completed. Ten. It helped to count them, made her forget the drop tugging at her from the right.
Fifteen steps. Nearly halfway there. “Nothin' to it!” she jeered, but she didn't dare turn her head, not now. She could hear her sister's soft breathing over to her leftâwell, everything about Eva was soft and soppyâand she could feel the anger beating out from Mary behind her, as it had beaten at her many times before, for they'd been enemies from birth, even though their families lived opposite one another in Bobbin Lane. She let out her breath slowly, glad she'd made it a condition nobody spoke while she was walking the wall. That helped. A bit.
In the distance, she could hear the sound of clogs clattering over the cobblestones towards them. Oh, no! If it was a grown-up, she'd be for it. The sound kept coming closer, but although the footsteps slowed down at the corner, no voice called out to her to get off. Sighing in relief, she took another careful step forward.
Three-quarters of the way there now. She was going to make it. She was. But her legs felt stiff, sweat was trickling down her neck and she hated, absolutely
hated
, that drop. This was a dead stupid idea, but Mary had made her so angry, mocking the whole Kershaw family, especially Eva for being the teacher's pet! Well, Eva
was
a teacher's pet, but no one else was going to say that when Lizzie was around.
The footsteps had stopped now, but she didn't turn her head to see who was watching her. No one in her family, that was sure, for the Kershaws didn't wear clogs. Her mam took pride in turning out her children in proper shoes, even if they were bought second hand and pinched, as Lizzie's did, or let in water, as her younger brother Johnny's did.
Thirty steps. She wobbled, but regained her balance. “Thirty-three an' I'm there!” she called in sudden triumph as her toe touched the wall of the first house in Carters Row. Then she wobbled again and this time lost her balance as she tried to get off the wall. She shrieked in terror, sure she was going to crash twenty feet down to the cobblestones of Mill Roadâbut hands grabbed her, snatching her into the air, away from the drop.
Safe!
For a moment, she couldn't speak, couldn't breathe with the relief of it all, just held on to her rescuer for dear life, shuddering.
“You lost!” Mary's voice crowed behind her. “You lost the dare, Lizzie Kershaw. Now you have to carry my books to school.”
She came out of her brief paralysis, struggling to get away from the hands that were still holding her. “I did not lose! I touched that wall with my toe
and
my hand. It was only when I was jumpin' down that I lost my balance.”
“Did not!”
“Did so!”
“Be quiet, the pair of you!” roared a loud voice.
Only then did Lizzie realise who had rescued herâSam Thoxby, who lived in the narrow alley at the end of her street. He was only a bit older than their Percy, but he was a big fellow and she'd never seen him look so angry!
Even as she stared up at him, he took her by the shoulders and shook her hard. “Stay there, you! I'll skin you alive if you move one step!”
With a gasp, Mary turned to flee but Sam caught hold of her skirt and dragged her back to his other side. “You, too, young lady! You can stay right here till I've done with you. An' you,” a nod across at Eva, “had better not move, either!”
Lizzie saw how frightened her sister looked. Though even now, after a whole day at school, Eva's dark, wavy hair was neat and tidy and there was hardly a speck of dirt on her pinny. It wasn't fair how pretty and tidy she always looked.
A heavy hand on each girl's shoulder pulled them round to face one another. “You two are going nowhere,” another shake, “till you've promised me never,
ever
to try that stupid trick again.”
Mary stopped struggling to smile up at her captor, her voice soft now. “I won't if you say not to, Sam.”
Lizzie closed her mouth firmly.
She
wasn't going to promise him anything. He might work with her brother, but he wasn't family and he had no right,
no right at all
, to interfere.
His fingers dug into her shoulder. “I'm waiting, Lizzie Kershaw. An' I'm not moving a step till I hear you promise.”
She scowled up at him. “Shan't, then.”
He gave Mary a push. “I shall know if you break your promise. Get off home with you.” The look he turned upon Lizzie was severe in the extreme. “You could have been killed, you silly little fool.”
“What have you been doing now, our Lizzie?”
Oh, no! Their Percy would have to turn up. He was always trying to boss her around. If she had to have a big brother, why couldn't she have a tall, good-looking one like Peter Dearden, who gave his little brother sweets from the shop and never had a cross word for anyone? Lizzie scowled at Percy, who looked so thin and faded next to other men, especially a huge fellow like Sam Thoxby.
“What have you been doing now, Lizzie Kershaw?” he repeated, catching hold of her arm.
“Nothin'.” She tried to twist away, but was held fast between the two men.
Sam's fingers tightened. “You can stop that wriggling, young lady. You're going nowhere till you've promised.” Without taking his eyes off her, he said to Percy, “She were walking along the top of that there wall. If I hadn't caught her, she'd have fell down on to Mill Road.”
Lizzie saw Percy turn pale. He was nervous of heights, always had been. “It was a dare,” she explained sullenly. “An' it was Mary Holden what dared me, not me her, an' I'm not letting her tell folk I'm afraid of owt, 'cos I'm not. An'âan' you're just a big bully, Sam Thoxby. Let
go
of me, will you?”
But the fingers were still digging into her shoulder and she couldn't shake them off, though her brother let go of her when she pushed at him again.
Percy turned to his other sister, still hovering nearby. “You should have run to fetch someone when this started, our Eva.”
“We don't tell on one another.” She hunched her shoulders and walked off down the street.
Lizzie glared up at Percy. Same features as Eva, same dark wavy hairâbut he always looked worried about something, sighing over his tea, poring over his books. She knew he was a good son, because people were always saying so, but she just wished he wasn't so
soft
.
“If you don't promise me an' Sam not to do it again,” his voice sounded thin and weary, “I'll have to tell Mam about this. Or Dad.”
Tears came into Lizzie's eyes. She was always in trouble with Mam and Percy knew it, though Eva was Mam's pet. And their dad worked so hard at the brewery he was tired out by evening and didn't need extra worries. But if she promisedâand she always kept her promises, alwaysâMary Holden would crow at her and goad her. “I hate you, our Percy!”
“Promise!” Sam gave her another little shake.
“Oh, all right, then. I promise I won't do it again.” They let her go, but she waited till she was a few paces away before yelling, “Yer a pair of silly bloody sheep, you two are! So there!”
“I'll wash your mouth out with soap when you come home, Lizzie Kershaw!” Percy roared, ashamed of being shown up in front of his workmate.
She danced around, pulling faces at them. “Ya, ya, ya! You'll have to catch me first, won't you?” And when he took a step towards her she was off again, running down Bobbin Lane, as lithe and graceful as a young colt Sam had seen frolicking in a field on the last works picnic.
Percy sighed and turned to the man next to him. Sam was older, twenty-three to his twenty, and towered over him by a good six inches, for none of the Kershaws was tall. “Thanks for stoppin' her.”
Sam watched the child disappear round a corner, admiration on his face. “She's a lively one.”
“Too lively. There's only Dad can keep her in order an' he's been so tired lately. That new manager at the brewery's a right slave-driver.”
“Your Lizzie's going to be pretty, too, when she grows up.” Sam frowned. “No, not pretty exactly, but she'll attract the fellows, you'll see.” She attracted him, if truth be told, for all her scrawny child's body. She had such bright eyes and she was so alive compared to other lasses. He had seen her several times lately; seen and stopped to watch.
“Our Lizzie? You've got to be joking! It's Eva as is the pretty one.”