Sweetie by Jenny Tomlin Read Free Book Online Page B

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    gold flamenco dress together with another ornament depicting a shepherd and his lamb. On the wall, and just slightly off centre, hung a spiky brass sunray clock that ticked away the seconds loudly. Next to it was a bamboo-framed picture of a bronzed South Pacific beauty, smiling back demurely at all who gazed on her. The swirly-patterned carpet was thread bare in places but swept by hand every morning with a dustpan and brush.
    Now a widow, Lizzie kept herself busy with relentless cleaning and regular sessions at the Bingo hall on Hackney Road. Since her husband’s death two years earlier, she had enjoyed a welcome renaissance in her relationship with her son. Her husband Ted – a man of fierce prejudices and an insatiable appetite for drink – had made family life impossible. The days since his death had been bliss.
    No more empty bottles to take back to the off-licence or green Rizla fag papers scattered around her clean front room. No more loud racist abuse, booming out when he came home pissed and feeling aggressive.
    No, Lizzie lived life on her own terms now.
    When Ted was alive, he’d kicked up something alarming after Paul and Michelle had got together.
    How could his son love a black woman? It was just disgusting; Ted didn’t know how he was supposed to hold his head up amongst the blokes he worked with at the paint factory. None of them lot liked the niggers. They had all had family killed in the war, 46
    and saw immigrant labour as another threatened invasion. Spades, they called them. Just fucking apes, weren’t they, swarming all over his country and taking all the jobs? They had bad habits, they smelled, and were thick and lazy to boot – but they always seemed to have the latest gear, fast cars, and a white woman on their arms! Many a young girl who crossed the line and went with a black man was bashed up by her dad or brother! If Paul was stupid enough to take up with one of them that was his look out, but as far as the outraged Ted was con -
    cerned he no longer had a son. He had to keep face with his mates. How could he be expected to support his son’s taste for a bit of dark meat?
    Of course, Lizzie had had to stand by her husband.
    It was what you did, wasn’t it? She would try from time to time to talk about Paul and persuade Ted to keep up with the times, but her husband was an old-fashioned, ignorant man, and his word was and always had been law in their little world. In the two years since his passing from a massive stroke, things had changed very much for the better. For the first time in her life, death had brought rebirth to Lizzie who redoubled her efforts to be a good mother and grandmother, and was now leading the charge to find out who had done this to Chantal.
    The girl might not have been her grand-daughter by blood, but Paul had loved her as if she’d been his own and that was good enough for Lizzie. Just seeing 47
    them together had made her happy. She’d loved to see them giggle and laugh, and her heart had finally been stolen when Chantal had made her a special card, reading ‘Nanny, I Love You’, on her birthday.
    No matter what, she’d loved that kid and was going to miss her, and now she had the job of trying to help her boy come to terms with that baby’s death. Some sick evil bastard had taken that kid’s future, and Lizzie was determined to get to the truth and find the person responsible. Years of living with an abusive drunk had made her bullet-proof. She had no fear whatsoever, of anyone or anything, nor time for hand-wringing over moral dilemmas: in her opinion the guilty deserved to be punished.
    Lizzie was holding a coffee morning to talk about the recent events. Nanny Parks was there, looking tense and angry and ready for anyone who dared to contradict her. She needed to offload, and a morning with the girls was just what the doctor had ordered.
    Sue Williams, perhaps the most enthusiastic vengeance-seeker of all, was in fact a faithful