A Winter Baby for Gin Barrel Lane

by Lindsey Hutchinson

  A Winter Baby for Gin Barrel Lane

  Lindsey Hutchinson

  For my agent, Judith Murdoch, who set me on the road to further happiness.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  References

  More from Lindsey Hutchinson

  About the Author

  About Boldwood Books

  1

  ‘You call the coppers and this little lady is dead!’ the man said as he held a knife to Dolly Perkins’ throat. He had grabbed her as she’d limped into the bar of Daydream Palace to light the gas lamps. The young woman had dropped her walking cane and was now trying to balance her weight on her good leg.

  ‘Steady now, don’t do anything rash,’ Billy Bickley said. He was a doorman at the Palace, along with his brother Bobby, but because he was big and lumbering he had not been quick enough and Dolly had been taken hostage. Billy edged forward as he tried to placate the knifeman. ‘Just tell us what you want.’

  The gin palace was packed to the gunnels with revellers but silence had descended and folk moved away from the scene unfolding before them. The owner of their favourite drinking den was at risk of death and everyone held their breath as Billy inched his way through the crowd.

  ‘What I want,’ the man said, ‘is some gin for my old mother!’

  ‘Well, that can be arranged,’ Billy said in a calm voice.

  Dolly felt the cold steel on her skin and she clenched her buttocks and prayed her bladder would not give way and embarrass her in front of her customers. She dared not move for fear of being cut and bleeding to death on the sawdust-scattered floor.

  ‘How? I ain’t got any money!’ The man’s eyes flicked from Billy to the knife and back again.

  ‘That don’t matter, mate. You let the boss go and she’ll give you a quart for your mum.’

  ‘If I let her go, you’ll jump me.’

  Dolly could smell the stale sweat emanating from her assailant’s body. He was standing behind her, his one arm around her, the other hand holding the weapon at her neck. She could feel him trembling and she was terrified the shaking might increase and cause the knife to prick her skin.

  ‘Nobody is going to jump you, pal, just let the lady go. Come and get your gin and go home to your old mum.’

  Bobby Bickley was threading his way around the room very slowly, trying to go unnoticed, but the man saw him.

  ‘You stop right there! Stop or I’ll gut your boss lady!’

  Bobby halted, holding up his hands in surrender.

  Dolly closed her eyes tight for a second as the man dragged her back a step.

  ‘My leg…’ she said quietly.

  The man nodded to a woman so drunk she could barely stand. ‘Pick up that cane and give it to her.’

  The woman bent over and grasped the cane and as she straightened up she began to sway.

  ‘Hand it over!’ the man demanded.

  ‘All right, hold yer horshes,’ the woman slurred. Taking a step forward, she lifted the cane as if to pass it to Dolly and the man’s eyes moved to Billy who simultaneously took a step. That was the man’s mistake.

  In an instant, the woman hefted the stick and swung it in an arc, catching the man sharply on the elbow. The sudden pain of the blow forced his arm down and away from Dolly’s neck, the knife falling from his fingers to clatter on the floor. He let out a howl and instinctively brought his other arm round to cradle the injury.

  In that same moment, Dolly lunged forward, dragging her crippled leg behind her. In her peripheral vision she saw Billy and Bobby dash to the man and retrieve the knife.

  The man’s assailant gave Dolly her cane and helped her back to her place behind the bar.

  Dragging the man along, Billy called out, ‘What shall we do with him?’

  Shouts and catcalls sounded as the crowd told Billy exactly what he could do with the man.

  ‘Bring him to the kitchen,’ Dolly said, then to Juliet, the barmaid, ‘and please fill that lady’s glass on the house.’

  ‘Ooh, ta!’ the woman said with a grin that showed her blackened teeth.

  ‘Thank you for your help,’ Dolly said before going through to the back room, her hands still shaking.

  The Bickley brothers pulled the knifeman through to the kitchen where they unceremoniously dumped him onto a chair.

  ‘Now then,’ Dolly began, trying to bring her emotions under control, ‘what the hell was all that about?’

  ‘I told you! I just wanted some gin for my old mother. She’s on her deathbed and it was all she wanted.’

  ‘You could have come and asked me for it, rather than…’ Dolly rubbed a hand across her neck where the sharp steel had rested.

  ‘Oh yes, and I suppose you would have given it free of charge, eh?’ the man asked sarcastically.

  ‘Actually, if you had explained properly, then I would have.’ Dolly watched the man’s eyes widen in disbelief and she nodded.

  ‘Look, I was never gonna hurt you – honest! I just wanted…’

  ‘Some gin,’ Dolly finished for him. ‘Tell me about yourself, Mr…?’

  ‘Whitehouse. Danny Whitehouse.’

  ‘Well, Danny, where do you live?’

  ‘Over in Lawrence Street.’

  ‘And what do you do for work?’

  Danny gave a tight laugh. ‘I ain’t working. I don’t know if you’ve noticed but there’s no jobs going out there!’

  Billy smacked him across the back of the head, saying, ‘Have some respect for the lady!’

  Danny rubbed his head and glanced up at the big man.

  ‘So, I take it you are living with and taking care of your mother?’ Dolly asked.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Is she very ill?’

  ‘Yes. She’s seventy-five and is bedridden. She’s eaten nothing for two days.’

  ‘Do you have food for her?’

  ‘Yes, but she won’t eat. She’s ready to die but just wanted a sip of mother’s ruin before she goes.’

  ‘I’m sorry to hear it.’

  Danny was again surprised at being treated so kindly after what he’d done.

  ‘Bobby, would you please fetch me a quart of the best gin – White Satin I think will do nicely.’

/>   The fellow nodded and lumbered away.

  ‘You gonna hand me over to the bobbies?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘What then?’

  ‘I’m going to give you some gin to take to your mother, then I’m going to offer you a job.’

  ‘You what?’ Danny could hardly believe his ears.

  ‘It appears I need more security in the bar so if you’re interested…’

  ‘Yes! Erm, yes please, miss,’ he corrected himself, with a glance at Billy.

  ‘Good. You can start whenever you wish. Ah, here’s your gin. Thanks, Bobby.’ Dolly took the bottle and passed it to Danny. ‘Boys, Danny will be starting work with you so I’d be pleased if you would show him the ropes.’

  ‘I know what ropes I’d like to show him,’ Billy grumbled.

  ‘Thanks, miss.’

  ‘Dolly’s the name. I hope that drop helps your mum.’

  ‘Me too,’ Danny replied before leaving sharpish via the back door.

  ‘You’m too soft,’ Billy said.

  ‘I know.’

  ‘He’ll bugger off and you won’t see hide nor hair of him again,’ Billy said.

  ‘You could have died out there!’ Bobby intervened.

  Dolly nodded. ‘I can’t deny I was scared out of my wits.’

  ‘Then you go and give him a job – the man who tried to hurt you!’ Bobby said indignantly.

  ‘I know he wanted to frighten me, which he did, but I don’t imagine for a minute he would have killed me.’

  ‘You had a lucky escape. One slip and you’d be in the morgue by now,’ Billy said.

  ‘His mum is dying, boys, so we have to show a little compassion. Now, back to work before that lot tear the place apart. Oh, and thank you both.’

  The two brothers shuffled back to the bar and Dolly finally sighed with relief.

  Were the Bickley brothers correct? Had she been too quick to offer her attacker a job? Something inside told her she had made the right choice, however. She had looked into Danny’s eyes and it was there she had seen utter desperation. She had been frightened for her life, but in the safety of the kitchen moments later, Dolly’s heart went out to the man who was trying to fulfil his mother’s dying wish. Would she have done the same for her own mother? Probably, yes, but certainly not in the same way.

  Holding out her hands, she saw they were still shaking. Rubbing them together she stood, picking up her trusty cane before she too went to the bar.

  Despite the large plate glass windows, the gas chandelier and wall lamps were lit in order to bounce the light off the huge mirrors behind the counter. Small casks stood in front of these mirrors, depicting the names of the different gins on offer. This was a ruse as all the alcohol was the same; it was only how much it was watered down that differed. The floor was covered with fresh sawdust to soak up the spills, not that there were many – gin was too precious to lose even one drop. The long counter was highly polished, beneath which sat the bottles within easy reach.

  As she glanced around the room, she smiled at the cheer which greeted her, and she hoped she’d done the right thing where Danny Whitehouse was concerned.

  She had been lucky these past years running the gin palace, but this incident had been a warning. There were bad people out there and now was the time to ensure she had some protectors in place. Knowing her friend Nellie Larkin would advise her, Dolly determined to seek that advice the following day.

  It was then that Aggie walked in. Well known by everyone in the town, Aggie was always dressed in tattered clothes, her grey hair piled untidily on her head. Her pink gums had long since lost their teeth but this did not impede her speech. She was quick-witted and outspoken to the point of rudeness at times, and she was the town gossip. Nothing happened in this part of Birmingham without Aggie knowing about it first. The information she gathered was then exchanged for a free tot in the gin houses so she rarely paid for a drink. The place erupted as the old woman lifted her skirts and began to dance. Aggie laughed loudly as she bent over, showing her bare bottom to everyone.

  Dolly sighed. Roll on tomorrow.

  2

  Dolly Perkins threw open the doors of Daydream Palace early to allow the fresh air to flush away the stink of unwashed bodies and the stale air of the previous night’s drinking. She stood outside on the street with a cup of tea in hand and soaked up the rays of sunshine. Nodding to people passing by, Dolly pondered her life.

  At thirteen years old she had taken refuge in the yard of the Crown Saloon across the road from where she now stood. Found by Jack Larkin, she had been taken in by his mother Nellie, who owned the Crown. She had run away from home after the death of her mother; her stepfather wanted her to fill her mother’s shoes in more ways than one. He had later been found dead by the railway line, suspected of being hit by a steam train whilst drunk.

  Nellie Larkin and Dolly had worked together to buy an old public house and transform it into the glittering gin palace she now co-owned. Already her mortgage to the bank was almost paid off since the business had done remarkably well.

  During the last seven years, Jack, who was now eighteen and still her best friend, had come to see her every day, despite living at the Crown Saloon. It had been thought for a long time that the two might marry, but Dolly saw Jack as a friend, not a husband.

  Grabbing her walking cane, which she’d leaned against the wall, Dolly limped back inside to help with the cleaning. Born with a withered leg, Dolly had never allowed it to hold her back and consequently she achieved everything she set out to do.

  Inside, Juliet Jenkins was already well into sweeping up the sawdust so it could be replaced by a fresh supply.

  Dolly smiled her thanks and took her cup back to the kitchen. Before long, she heard the voice of Janice, Juliet’s sister.

  Janice had married Matt Dempster, who worked the bar for Nellie and they had twin boys who were now three years old and quite a handful.

  Pouring tea, Dolly took it into the bar for Janice.

  ‘You’re looking flustered this morning. Here, sit down and drink this.’

  ‘Thanks, Dolly. The twins had me run ragged. As fast as I dressed Ben, Ethan was stripping his clothes off! It was all I could do to get them to the child-minder and get here on time.’

  ‘Couldn’t Matt help?’ Juliet asked.

  Janice laughed. ‘You must be joking. He just encourages them, they can do no wrong where he’s concerned. I do love them all, but my God they frustrate me!’

  Dolly grinned but deep inside she was envious. She was twenty-one now and had never had a sweetheart. She longed to be wed and have kiddies of her own, but the gin palace took up all of her time. Besides, she felt her gammy leg would put young men off wanting to court her. No man in his right mind would want a cripple for a wife, no matter how much she was worth. Dolly had long since resigned herself to the fact she would never be married or have a family, but sometimes the thought saddened her.

  Just then, a man stumbled in through the open doorway.

  ‘We’re not open yet, Stanley, give us an hour and come back then,’ Juliet said.

  ‘Bloody hell! What am I to do for an hour while I wait for you to finish cleaning up?’

  ‘Go home and sleep it off,’ Janice answered, aware he was still drunk from the night before.

  ‘Bugger it, I’m going to the Crown. Nellie will serve me!’ With that, Stanley staggered away, doing the tipple two-step. Given the nickname by the serving staff, the walk of two steps forward and one back looked like it ought to be a dance.

  ‘I’m going over to see Nellie too, but I won’t be long,’ Dolly said.

  ‘We’ll stock the bar and have the place all clean and tidy for when you get back,’ Juliet said.

  Stepping out into the sunshine again, Dolly counted her blessings as she watched horse-drawn carts roll by.

  Birmingham in 1864 was an industrial town, its dirty streets spreading out like a spider’s web. It boasted a railway station, a huge market with ove
r six hundred stalls, a town council, Bingley exhibition hall, a lunatic asylum at Winson Green, a prison, and a public bathhouse. It also boasted the imposing St Chad’s, which was named a cathedral by Pope Pius IX. It had a park, a workhouse and the Birmingham mint was the first metal-working company to be contracted to produce coins of one pound sterling. It was a very busy place with people milling about at all times of the day and night, most of whom were out of work. The level of poverty was incredibly high and families were living on the heath under tarpaulins. They were starving and only when they could bear it no longer would they accept a ticket into the workhouse, knowing they would never be able to sign themselves out – a sad life with an even sadder ending. Dolly knew that could have been her fate and thanked her lucky stars that she had escaped the worst Birmingham had to offer.

  She heard the noise before she walked in through the back door. Nellie Larkin and her long-time friend Nancy were exchanging un-pleasantries at full volume, as was their wont.

  ‘Where’s our Jack?’ Nellie called out.

  ‘He’s in the cellar with Fred. They’re taking out the empty casks like you told them to,’ Nancy answered.

  ‘That was an hour ago! If that little sod is…!’

  ‘Nell, Jack’s eighteen now, he ain’t a kid any more! Oh, hello Dolly,’ Nancy said as she saw the young woman enter the kitchen.