Lily of Love Lane Page 4

  When the girl had gone, Lily looked round again. ‘I didn’t know there was places like this around here.’ She walked to the window and looked out through the dirty panes of glass. She could see the road beneath and over the wall on the other side of the road, the backs of other houses. Some of the yards had small gardens and squares of grass, unheard of on the island.

  ‘Not a bad lookout, is it?’ Ben said as he came to stand beside her. ‘But they need their windows cleaning.’

  ‘You can still see the top of the Queen’s.’

  As a child, Lily had come up to Poplar with Uncle Noah on the rag and bone cart. They had often passed the theatre in the High Street. On Friday night, anyone could do a turn, enjoy the audience applause and become famous for five minutes. The Queen’s always held an air of excitement about it. On her fourteenth birthday, she had been treated to a night out at a musical revue. Her mum and dad and Uncle Noah had bought threepenny tickets for the ‘gods’. That night she had fallen in love with the main act, a man called Teddy Stream. He could sing and dance and made everyone laugh and cry. She had never forgotten it.

  ‘Is that the laundry over there?’ Lily indicated a tall chimney.

  ‘Dunno, why?’

  ‘Uncle Noah and me used to stop in Sophia Street. He collected the unwanted linen from the back doors. I used to look in and see all these poor women covered in sweat.’

  Ben nodded. ‘It’s a back-breaking job.’

  ‘Uncle Noah said the drying ovens can clog up your lungs and kill you off early.’

  ‘Well, someone’s got to do it, I suppose.’

  ‘Like me dad on the skin ships.’ It didn’t seem right that the poor were always given the worst jobs.

  Ben nudged her. ‘Right, where shall I put this? Here?’

  Lily turned round. The small and expensive-looking table had a shiny surface.

  ‘No, if the pot leaks, the table will be ruined.’

  Ben picked it up again. A large round circle had formed in the film of dust, showing the walnut grain beneath.

  They were staring at it when the doors opened again. Charles Grey stood there. Lily felt the colour rush to her cheeks. He was even more handsome than she remembered.

  ‘Good morning. How nice to see you both again.’ He walked towards them. ‘I’m sorry, but I don’t know your names.’

  Before Lily could speak, Ben answered. ‘The name’s Benjamin James and this is Miss Lily Bright.’

  Lily cast Ben a quick look. He was sounding very formal.

  Charles Grey held out his hand but as Ben was carrying the pot still, he turned to Lily. ‘I didn’t think you were coming.’

  ‘I wasn’t, but—’ she stopped, blushing under his dark gaze as for a moment he took her hand and held it. ‘I changed me mind.’

  ‘I’m very glad you did.’ He was still holding on to her hand, gazing deeply into her eyes.

  Ben coughed loudly. ‘Where do we put this?’

  ‘Ah yes, the aspidistra.’ Slowly, without looking at Ben, he let Lily’s hand go.

  Lily quickly remembered why she had come. ‘You said you’d like some advice on where to stand it.’

  ‘I would indeed.’ His smile was making her feel just as strange as it had when she first met him. He had very full lips, which made her want to look at them and their lovely curve. And when she lifted her gaze to his eyes, her heart turned over. They were inky dark, lustrous and so intense that it was hard to look away. She was glad when he spoke again.

  ‘Let me show you the house. Ben, would you like to give the plant to my maid?’ He pulled a cord by the mantelpiece and the young girl entered. ‘Take this to the scullery, Annie, whilst we find a suitable place for it to stand.’

  ‘Yes, Mr Grey.’ The girl quickly removed it and Charles Grey led them into the hall again. ‘I’ll show you upstairs first.’

  Lily and Ben followed up the red carpeted stairs. Lily’s fingers slid over the solid wooden stair rail as the gaslights flickered on the walls. Magically they spilled light into all the dark corners of the landing. There were many rooms on the first floor and Lily forgot after a while which order they came in. Each bedroom was very cold, as though it hadn’t been used for a long time, and each was equipped with a big brass iron bedstead and heavy, sombre covers over the thick mattresses. The curtains were like those downstairs and kept apart by big silk tassels.

  ‘I was wondering about in here?’ Charles said to Lily as he opened the final door. It led to the bathroom.

  Lily’s eyes nearly popped out. There was a deep, white bath with brass feet shaped into an animal’s claws. Beside this was a marble-topped washstand fitted with a gilt-edged mirror.

  Lily shook her head in wonder. ‘I’ve never seen such a big bathroom, or bath.’

  ‘You could put the pot there.’ Ben pointed to a piece of furniture in one corner.

  ‘The chiffonier,’ nodded Lily. ‘It’s beautiful.’

  ‘Do you like it?’ asked their host.

  ‘Yes, but should it be in the bathroom? It would look much better in the drawing room or even the back parlour. That is, if you have one.’

  He smiled, looking into her eyes once more. ‘I can see that you know quite a lot about such things. That must be from working at the market?’

  She nodded. ‘We have a lot of furniture go through our hands. The West End dealers come down especially to buy.’

  ‘And do you sell them a bargain?’

  Lily smiled shyly. ‘Of course. But Reube – that’s my boss – he’s not greedy. He likes to turn a profit and change the stock.’

  Charles Grey seemed unable to take his eyes from Lily. ‘How fascinating. What an interesting life you must lead.’

  Lily didn’t know what to say to that. She was a little embarrassed under his scrutiny.

  ‘What do you think of the bath?’ Charles asked Lily quickly. ‘It’s rather a nice piece, isn’t it?’

  ‘Does it have hot water?’ Lily asked, admiring the shiny brass taps. What would it be like to sit in that bath and be covered up to the chin by lovely warm water?

  ‘It’s fed by the range downstairs.’

  ‘We haven’t even got a bath,’ she sighed, ‘at least not a proper one like that. We have to bring the tin one in by the fire.’

  ‘That must be tiresome.’

  ‘Mum says her dream is to have a proper bath.’

  ‘Do you live with your parents?’

  Lily nodded. ‘Yes, and my Uncle Noah. He used to own a rag and bone yard. We’d come up to Poplar each month when I was young.’

  Charles Grey gave her a dazzling smile. ‘Is he still in business?’

  ‘No, the horse died and he retired.’

  ‘And you, young man, what do you do for a living?’

  Ben said a little stiffly, ‘I drive a lorry.’ Then he looked at Lily. ‘Which reminds me, I’ve still got a couple of deliveries left today. We’d better be going.’

  Lily was fascinated with the house and wanted to see more. She knew for a fact that Ben had nothing else to do today.

  ‘I mustn’t take up any more of your time.’ Charles Grey closed the bathroom door. ‘So, any ideas, Lily, for the position of the plant?’

  She walked to the banister and looked over. By the first stair was a small shelf and above it a lovely, ornate barometer. It was the perfect place for the plant. ‘Perhaps it would suit nicely just there?’

  ‘Yes, though there’s not a lot of natural light,’ said Charles hesitantly. ‘I’ve always intended to fill that spot, but thought it wasn’t right for such a delicate thing.’

  Lily turned to her companion and met his dark gaze. She had butterflies in her tummy as he smiled at her. His dark good looks, grey suit and silk tie made him look so distinguished in the soft glow of the gaslights. ‘You don’t need to worry about aspidistras being delicate,’ she told him. ‘They don’t mind gas fumes or draughts or even the dark. And all your visitors will have the pleasure of seeing it as they come in.’
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  Charles Grey’s smile faded. ‘I don’t have many visitors these days. Not since my wife died.’

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry.’

  ‘It was two years ago now.’

  Lily saw how upset he was and as Ben failed to comment there was a big gap in the conversation.

  ‘Before you go I must pay you for the delivery,’ Charles Grey said suddenly.

  ‘No, it’s on the house.’ Ben shrugged.

  Both men looked at each other. ‘In that case I’ll show you out.’

  It was a swift goodbye as he shook their hands at the front door and thanked them. Lily wanted to know so much more. And she was certain he would have told them had they stayed.

  Out in the cold air, Lily pulled her collar up. ‘You was in a big rush to leave,’ she said to Ben who had his hands deep in his pockets as they walked to the lorry. ‘Why did you say you had more deliveries?’

  ‘Because I thought we was gonna be there all day.’

  ‘I was only curious.’

  ‘So was he. About you.’

  Lily looked at her friend. ‘Do you think so?’

  ‘Yes, I do.’

  Lily felt hot colour sweep into her face. She could see Charles Grey now; he had something about him that unnerved her and excited her at the same time.

  What had his wife died of? Was that why the house had looked neglected? She wondered if he would put the aspidistra where she had suggested.

  Once seated in the lorry, Ben looked thoughtfully up at the house. ‘He didn’t say what he did.’

  ‘You didn’t give him much chance.’

  ‘There was something about him I couldn’t put me finger on.’

  ‘It was nice of you to let him off the delivery charge.’ Lily had been impressed by that.

  But Ben spoilt it by adding, ‘I didn’t like the way he looked down his nose at us.’

  ‘He did no such thing. He was the perfect gentleman.’

  ‘Maybe it was me, then.’

  ‘Yes, it was.’

  Lily was annoyed with her friend. She had enjoyed the morning so much looking round that lovely house. Why had he ruined it?

  They drove in silence until Ben narrowed his eyes and said slowly, ‘I know what it was. The house didn’t look lived in. Didn’t see no shoes or clothes about in them bedrooms. Not even a fire in the grate and no umbrellas in the stand. Did you notice there wasn’t a jug and basin in the bathroom? No razor or cupboard to put personals in. How does he wash and shave?’

  ‘In the bath?’

  ‘A bit luxurious that, ain’t it?’

  ‘Well, he’s a man on his own.’

  ‘So he says,’ Ben muttered darkly.

  Lily decided enough had been said about Charles Grey. Ben was determined to pick holes in an otherwise enjoyable outing. Perhaps he was jealous of him? Though it wasn’t usually in Ben’s character to find fault.

  She couldn’t help wondering whether she would ever see Charles Grey again. She felt downhearted at the thought she might not. If Ben hadn’t hurried her off like that, she would have found out more about him. Was his wife beautiful? There had been no photographs on the wall that she had noticed. Perhaps he had taken them down in his grief.

  ‘What did you say his name was?’ Uncle Noah asked for the third time that evening.

  ‘Charles Grey, Uncle Noah.’

  They were sitting in the parlour in front of a roaring fire. Her parents and uncle were listening to her account of that morning’s visit to Dewar Place.

  ‘Don’t ring a bell to me. What does he do?’

  ‘I don’t know. I didn’t ask.’

  ‘Must be a professional fella,’ said her father as he placed his tobacco tin on the arm of the big fireside chair. Lily knew he wanted to smoke, but would have to go out in the yard. Her mother didn’t like him or her uncle to smoke indoors, although if she was out, they always did.

  ‘He’s a well-dressed gent. He could work in the city,’ Lily suggested.

  ‘You say he’s a widower?’ Josie glanced up from her crocheting.

  ‘His wife died two years ago.’

  ‘Poor man.’

  ‘Yes, it must have been very hard.’

  ‘She was young, then?’

  ‘He didn’t mention her age.’

  ‘What did young Ben think of him?’ Bob Bright changed the position of the tobacco tin yet again.

  ‘He put a bit of a damper on it, actually.’

  ‘Why’s that?’

  ‘I don’t think he liked him.’

  ‘Did he say why?’

  Lily wasn’t going to go over that. ‘Not really.’

  ‘So where did you suggest the plant went?’ Josie began to crochet again.

  ‘In the hall under the barometer, where it could be seen by visitors.’

  ‘He’ll have to make sure he hides the broken handle.’ Her mother lifted one eyebrow.

  ‘As long as the man that owned it doesn’t return to use it,’ Lily laughed.

  Uncle Noah chuckled. ‘Charlie boy will get his money’s worth if he does.’

  Lily’s father stood up. She knew he couldn’t go a moment longer without a smoke. He pressed down his waistcoat and rocked on his heels. The one day of the week when he dressed in a suit was on Sunday. Her mother insisted on him looking respectable even though they didn’t often go to church. ‘Sunday best’ was a tradition on the island, no matter how poor or religious you were or weren’t.

  ‘Just going out the back,’ he said, coughing and banging his chest with his knuckles.

  Her father, at fifty-six years of age, rarely got angry or impatient with his family, but his financial worries had turned his thick dark hair iron grey. Lily noticed that, like her mother, the worry lines around the corners of his eyes had increased recently.

  ‘You coming too, Noah?’

  ‘Don’t mind if I do.’

  ‘It’s parky out there. Better put our coats on.’

  Lily saw her mother glance after them. She said nothing as the two men went out, closing the door behind them.

  ‘His cough is worse this winter.’

  ‘Does he rub in the wintergreen the doctor gave him?’

  ‘He says he does, but it doesn’t seem to help much.’ Josie laid down her crocheting again. ‘Good job your father has Uncle Noah to talk to.’

  ‘He’s got you as well.’

  ‘I know, but men see things differently. A woman tends to nag or worry or both.’

  ‘Are you worried about him, Mum?’

  ‘I am a bit.’ Josie sank back on the chair. ‘He got a job yesterday. Was waiting on the stones for hours before one came up.’

  Lily realized that this was not good news. ‘You mean it was a skin ship?’

  ‘Yes, I’m afraid so.’

  ‘Oh, Mum, I wish he wouldn’t take it.’

  ‘So do I, but what choice do we have?’

  ‘I told you I would work Saturday afternoons. Reube said I can.’

  Josie’s pale blue eyes looked sad. ‘Lily, ducks, with all the goodwill in the world, it’s not enough.’

  ‘But couldn’t we manage?’

  ‘We have been managing, putting things on the slate. Last week I went up to Mr Gane’s. He said he was very sorry, but he couldn’t let me have any more groceries till I paid the arrears.’

  ‘I thought his bill was settled.’

  Josie sighed and shook her head. ‘I was going to, but we had no coal. The coalman wants his money the minute he delivers. So the grocery money went to him.’

  ‘You should have told me.’ Lily saw the strain on her mother’s face and her heart ached for her family.

  ‘What good would it have done, Lily? I was hoping not to tell you. But it all just got worse.’

  ‘I would have asked Reube for a loan.’

  ‘You did before Christmas.’ Josie shook her head. ‘As good as Reube is, we ain’t a charity case. Your father’s got his pride too. I don’t tell him about going to the pawnshop, mind. That�
��s a secret only you and me share, ducks.’

  Lily had been entrusted many times with a journey to the pawnshop. It was always done in strict secrecy. She had to make sure no one saw her go there, which was not difficult in the dark evenings, but very awkward in the lighter ones. It was becoming harder to raise a good price on the sheets, linens and personal effects as the pawnbroker had so many families on his books who were desperate. But as time had gone on and hopes of regular employment for her father had faded, it was the only alternative left. Lily knew her mother was borrowing from Peter to pay Paul, and they were still getting deeper and deeper into debt.

  Lily thought of the lovely house she had visited this morning. It wasn’t very far from her home, but it seemed as though it was on another planet. She could imagine what it would be like if Charles Grey’s house was really loved and cared for. She was now certain that when Mrs Grey had died, her husband had just given up! He’d taken down the photographs so he wouldn’t be reminded of his beautiful wife. And he didn’t bother about lighting fires or making the place cosy. His heart simply wasn’t in it.

  Life was strange. There was Mr Grey with an abundance of money and a desirable home, but he wasn’t happy. Lily had seen the sadness in his eyes. Grief was the clue there, she was sure of it now. Then there was her own family who were as poor as church mice but were happy because they had each other. It seemed you had either one or the other, not both.

  What would she do if she was wealthy? She could think of a thousand things, the list would be endless. The first and most important action she would take, would be to settle the family’s debts. Then she would buy a bath like the one she had seen today, but then she would have to have a bathroom to put it in. And a large range to heat the hot water. In fact, one thing led to another. She would have to move to a bigger house altogether. Was that what she wanted?

  Lily’s imagination was working overtime as usual. It was as though she had a cinema in her head, showing all the films, with her family and herself taking the leading roles. She could put the characters anywhere she wanted, give them anything they wanted. Often at market she found herself daydreaming. Sometimes it was a shock to come back to earth and find herself still here.

  ‘Lily?’

  ‘What? Oh, sorry, Mum.’