on the cards. Frank ain’t invisible and people will point the finger. If
Polly sees for herself that he means no harm, it don’t matter what any kid says.’ Gertie smiled encouragingly.
Lizzie shook her head. ‘I don’t know.’
‘There’s just a couple of weeks till Easter. Bring Pol round. An hour, that’s all. We’ll have something nice for tea. She knows no harm will come to her at her
Granda’s house. Frank will make an appearance, be on his best behaviour, and that’s a promise.’
Lizzie looked into Bill’s anxious face. The lines were deepening around his eyes and his hair was almost silver white. She loved him deeply and admired his sense of loyalty to Frank. But
this was asking too much.
‘Ain’t it worth a try?’ Bill persisted. ‘Better the child don’t live in fear and can answer up for herself at school. Frank’s back on the island with a view
to staying, Lizzie. He was born and bred here and is as much part of the Smoke as we are.’
‘As is Danny,’ Lizzie said pointedly. ‘This ain’t easy for him, Bill.’
The old man nodded patiently. ‘Danny should speak to his brother. Know his brother wouldn’t cross him.’
Lizzie sat with a heavy heart. Bill wanted the best for both his sons, but had too much happened in the past? Danny was in no mood to forgive and forget.
‘Frank don’t mean no harm, I swear it,’ Gertie said. ‘But then you’ve only got our word, ducks, and it ain’t going to be easy proving he’s no threat. He
was a sod once and is tarred by that brush.’
Lizzie stared pityingly at the old costermonger and his faithful partner. Her soft heart twisted as she listened to their words and saw the hope in their eyes. They were genuine in their
attempts to reunite this broken family. It was a last attempt, she knew. The years were no longer plentiful for Bill and Gertie. They were desperate for a result.
But was she?
Chapter Sixteen
Seated at the dressing table in Cal’s lodgings, a large, shabby room above a Cubitt Town café, Ethel lifted her fair hair from her bare shoulders and twirled it
into a knot at the back of her head. She had no need to pinch her pale cheeks or add mascara to the lashes of her blue eyes. Here in this funny little room, she was happy. Content to be with a man
who was Richard’s exact opposite.
She smiled at Cal as he stood behind her, meeting his gaze in the mirror. A lean, supple figure, he watched her with an animal’s wary eyes as she pinned her hair. The more she had of Cal,
the more she wanted him. His black hair fell to his shoulders, his beard had been shaved off but had grown again quickly. She loved its rough texture. Sometimes at nights when she lay by Richard,
she would think of Cal’s body and pretend it was him sleeping only a few inches away.
But why was she so excited by this quiet man? she wondered. She knew so little about him. But that didn’t seem to matter to either of them.
She leaned forward, placing her chin on her elbows, her eyes trailing up to a browned illustration on the wall. ‘What’s that?’ she asked curiously. ‘A dragon?’
Cal laughed as he strolled casually across the room. Wearing only his white pants, he stretched his brown body. ‘He’s the bunyip, a devil who lives in the rivers and billabongs. The
poor old fella’s blessed with a croc’s head and dog’s face. He’s got flippers and tusks and he’ll leap out of the swamp and eat you up.’ Cal caught hold of her
shoulders and she jumped.
‘Cal, don’t do that.’
‘He ain’t real.’ Cal kissed her gently on the neck.
‘Is that to kill the bunyip with?’ Ethel pointed to the long wooden shaft hung prominently on the wall above the mirror. She shivered at the sight of the vicious-looking blade driven
into the top.
‘It was my grandfather’s tribal club,’ Cal replied. ‘My ancestors used it in battle.’
‘Did he give it to you?’ Ethel asked, curious now.
‘Grandfather raised me and my
Polly sees for herself that he means no harm, it don’t matter what any kid says.’ Gertie smiled encouragingly.
Lizzie shook her head. ‘I don’t know.’
‘There’s just a couple of weeks till Easter. Bring Pol round. An hour, that’s all. We’ll have something nice for tea. She knows no harm will come to her at her
Granda’s house. Frank will make an appearance, be on his best behaviour, and that’s a promise.’
Lizzie looked into Bill’s anxious face. The lines were deepening around his eyes and his hair was almost silver white. She loved him deeply and admired his sense of loyalty to Frank. But
this was asking too much.
‘Ain’t it worth a try?’ Bill persisted. ‘Better the child don’t live in fear and can answer up for herself at school. Frank’s back on the island with a view
to staying, Lizzie. He was born and bred here and is as much part of the Smoke as we are.’
‘As is Danny,’ Lizzie said pointedly. ‘This ain’t easy for him, Bill.’
The old man nodded patiently. ‘Danny should speak to his brother. Know his brother wouldn’t cross him.’
Lizzie sat with a heavy heart. Bill wanted the best for both his sons, but had too much happened in the past? Danny was in no mood to forgive and forget.
‘Frank don’t mean no harm, I swear it,’ Gertie said. ‘But then you’ve only got our word, ducks, and it ain’t going to be easy proving he’s no threat. He
was a sod once and is tarred by that brush.’
Lizzie stared pityingly at the old costermonger and his faithful partner. Her soft heart twisted as she listened to their words and saw the hope in their eyes. They were genuine in their
attempts to reunite this broken family. It was a last attempt, she knew. The years were no longer plentiful for Bill and Gertie. They were desperate for a result.
But was she?
Chapter Sixteen
Seated at the dressing table in Cal’s lodgings, a large, shabby room above a Cubitt Town café, Ethel lifted her fair hair from her bare shoulders and twirled it
into a knot at the back of her head. She had no need to pinch her pale cheeks or add mascara to the lashes of her blue eyes. Here in this funny little room, she was happy. Content to be with a man
who was Richard’s exact opposite.
She smiled at Cal as he stood behind her, meeting his gaze in the mirror. A lean, supple figure, he watched her with an animal’s wary eyes as she pinned her hair. The more she had of Cal,
the more she wanted him. His black hair fell to his shoulders, his beard had been shaved off but had grown again quickly. She loved its rough texture. Sometimes at nights when she lay by Richard,
she would think of Cal’s body and pretend it was him sleeping only a few inches away.
But why was she so excited by this quiet man? she wondered. She knew so little about him. But that didn’t seem to matter to either of them.
She leaned forward, placing her chin on her elbows, her eyes trailing up to a browned illustration on the wall. ‘What’s that?’ she asked curiously. ‘A dragon?’
Cal laughed as he strolled casually across the room. Wearing only his white pants, he stretched his brown body. ‘He’s the bunyip, a devil who lives in the rivers and billabongs. The
poor old fella’s blessed with a croc’s head and dog’s face. He’s got flippers and tusks and he’ll leap out of the swamp and eat you up.’ Cal caught hold of her
shoulders and she jumped.
‘Cal, don’t do that.’
‘He ain’t real.’ Cal kissed her gently on the neck.
‘Is that to kill the bunyip with?’ Ethel pointed to the long wooden shaft hung prominently on the wall above the mirror. She shivered at the sight of the vicious-looking blade driven
into the top.
‘It was my grandfather’s tribal club,’ Cal replied. ‘My ancestors used it in battle.’
‘Did he give it to you?’ Ethel asked, curious now.
‘Grandfather raised me and my
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