Lizzie's Secret by Rosie Clarke Page A

in the East India Docks area. I’ll give you instructions on the way…’
    Sebastian Winters’ driver had got out and opened the back door for her and she slid inside on the back seat. Lizzie had no option but to follow. She wasn’t sure why she was so nervous; she hadn’t been in the least nervous of Mr Winters in the showroom, but it might have been something to do with the dark street and the absence of other people – and those heavy footsteps. Something had made the back of her neck tingle, something that hovered just beyond that curtain in her mind. Glancing out of the window as she slid onto the back seat, she saw the dark shape of a man staring after them – a man wearing a long trench coat such as soldiers had worn in the last war…
    â€˜I don’t bite, Lizzie Larch,’ Sebastian Winters said and smiled at her, over his shoulder. ‘Your friend trusts me – surely you can?’
    â€˜Yes, of course. It’s just…’ Lizzie felt coldness at her nape. There was something about this lane – something that made her nervous. She was suddenly glad to be inside the luxurious car, her fear gone as swiftly as it had come. ‘Thank you, it’s very kind of you to stop for us.’
    â€˜The least I could do,’ Mr Winters assured her. ‘I’ve been thinking about you, Lizzie Larch. Perhaps we could meet for a coffee or a drink one evening…’
    â€˜Perhaps,’ Lizzie agreed, because she couldn’t confess to this man that her aunt expected her home at the same time every night.
    *
    Lizzie took her place beside Ed at his workbench the next morning. She was feeling happy. Beth’s parents had welcomed her the previous night as if she was one of them and she’d enjoyed sharing a room with her friend and talking about their visit to the pictures. After Beth had fallen asleep, Lizzie had lain wakeful for a while, remembering the irrational fear she’d had in that dark lane before Mr Winters had stopped for them. If he hadn’t come along when he did, would that man in the trench coat have attacked them? Something about his manner as she’d looked back at him had been menacing.
    Lost in her thoughts, she wasn’t immediately aware that Ed was very silent, working away at cutting some silk grosgrain and the stiffening needed to make it hold its shape, but then she noticed his frown.
    â€˜Is something wrong, Ed?’ she asked, and he nodded once, but still didn’t speak. ‘I haven’t upset you?’
    â€˜Lord no, Lizzie. It’s my wife. Yesterday evening, she was in a lot of pain. I didn’t want to leave her but we’ve got some big orders to fulfil and if I’m not here…’
    â€˜Surely Mr Oliver would understand if you needed an extra hour or so off?’
    â€˜He says margins are tight and he needs us all to put in maximum effort,’ Ed told her. ‘I’m sorry, Lizzie, I should have explained that this brim needs to be cut on the bias like this…’
    â€˜Yes, I saw what you were doing,’ Lizzie said. ‘Is that so that you can get the floppy look?’
    â€˜Yes, clever girl,’ Ed said approvingly. ‘Look, I’ve got all the hats I need from this roll and there’s only enough for one small cloche left… why don’t you try cutting out the shape?’
    *
    Lizzie stretched her shoulders at the end of what had seemed a long but exciting day. Ed had shown her exactly what to do and she’d seen her first cloche take shape. Using the steamer and the clamps and the moulds was frightening at first, but she’d soon got the hang of it and Ed had placed her finished hat with his to be trimmed by Tilly.
    â€˜Ed, is there anything I can do to help you?’ she said as he began to put away his tools for the night. ‘If you needed any help at home…’
    â€˜Well…’ he hesitated, then inclined his head.