Lizzie's War by Rosie Clarke Page A

Lizzie said, ‘and although I don’t think he did this, others do. He seems to be the obvious one, because who else would want to ruin me?’
    â€˜I don’t know, Lizzie. You don’t deserve it, no matter what anyone says – I know it wasn’t your fault that Harry was killed, though I did blame you at the time, because he stopped coming home on leave. Why didn’t he want to come home, Lizzie?’
    â€˜It wasn’t my fault,’ Lizzie said. ‘If I told you the truth about why he didn’t come, it would be a betrayal of Harry’s memory. Please believe me when I say that it hurt me as much as it hurt him – or you.’
    â€˜Well, it isn’t my place to pry,’ the older woman said and blew her nose on a large handkerchief. ‘I know you’re busy, Lizzie, but I was wondering if you could spare one evening a week to help us out at the canteen – well, it’s more of a social club, as you know. You could serve or just help make sandwiches if you wanted…’ Lizzie had gone to help at the social club for servicemen regularly before she had Betty, but since then and the quarrel with Uncle Bertie, she’d stayed away, partly because she didn’t have much time, and partly because she hadn’t been sure she would be welcome.
    â€˜I’ll have to talk to Beth about it,’ Lizzie said. ‘I can’t expect her to look after Betty – but I should like to help. I enjoyed it before.’
    â€˜Well, I was thinking about things…’ Aunt Miriam’s eyes were filled with longing. ‘I could come round and babysit for you both – and you two could have a night at the club. It would make a change for you, Lizzie – and I’d get to see you and Betty sometimes.’
    â€˜What would Uncle Bert say?’
    â€˜He won’t have to know,’ Aunt Miriam looked guilty but determined. ‘He’ll think I’ve gone to the club – I’ve kept it up all this time, twice a week. Please say yes. It’s tearing me apart, Lizzie, never getting to see you and the child. You’re all I’ve got you know…’
    The handkerchief came out again as Jean knocked and then brought in a tray of tea and some biscuits. The short interval gave Lizzie time to think; she and Beth could do with a change, and one night a week at the servicemen’s social club would do them both good.
    â€˜Yes, all right, I’ll ask Beth. I think she will be pleased. We never get out because her Mum looks after the children most days so we can’t ask her at night or the weekends. I know I can trust you with the children – they will sleep most of the time anyway.’
    â€˜Yes, but I’ll get to see Betty in the bath and if she wakes up I can nurse her, can’t I? Just for a while…’
    â€˜Yes, of course.’ Lizzie made a mental note to find a way of seeing more of Harry’s aunt. Because she had no family of her own, it was important that Betty should have a few people she could count as her own when she grew up.
    Beth came in for her lunchbreak after Harry’s aunt had gone. She was surprised when Lizzie told her about the offer she’d made.
    â€˜Are you sure you can trust her?’
    â€˜Oh yes,’ Lizzie smiled. ‘She’s all right really, a bit of a fusspot sometimes, but she would never harm the children – and she wouldn’t neglect them either.’
    â€˜What will her husband say?’
    â€˜She isn’t going to tell him,’ Lizzie said. ‘What do you think – shall we take her up on it? It’s nice at the club, Beth. The young soldiers are so grateful for all we do – and you might get asked to dance. You might meet someone, fall in love and get married…’
    â€˜I doubt it, when they know I’ve got twins at home,’ Beth laughed harshly. ‘But it would be fun – it’s ages since we had a