A Winter Baby for Gin Barrel Lane

by Lindsey Hutchinson

  ‘Thank you, Dolly, that’s the best present I could ever wish for, I love you so much.’

  Applause sounded again then they all went silent as Wyman hit one key on the piano.

  ‘I have a gift for Dolly and Jack and I’d like to play it now. I have named my new composition “Larkin’s Dream”.’

  No one spoke as Wyman sat at the piano. Pulling a sheet of music from his pocket, he propped it on the stand and then he began to play. There was absolute silence until he finished. With a flourish he pulled the sheet music from the stand and with a bow he presented it to Jack.

  The applause was deafening. Then pulling Jack aside he said, ‘The copyright for “Larkin’s Dream” belongs to you, Jack, but I would ask permission to play it in London in the New Year.’

  ‘Of course! Thanks, Wyman, I’ve never had such an unusual gift! What an honour.’

  ‘I am touring the great concert halls and would love for my audiences to hear it.’

  ‘They’ll love it, I’m sure. Wyman – what is copyright?’

  ‘I have registered it as belonging to you with myself as the composer. This means under the law, anyone wishing to play it must pay a fee, some of which will come to you and some to me. It won’t be a huge amount, but it all adds up.’

  ‘Surely folk will play it without paying a fee?’ Jack asked.

  ‘They could but they would be breaking the law.’

  ‘Thank you, Wyman,’ Jack said as he took the sheet music offered to him, ‘this is a very special gift.’

  ‘It’s my way of thanking you, Jack,’ Wyman said, then as Randall began tinkling, he winked. ‘Watch this.’

  Joining Randall, they each took an end of the piano keys and after a whisper from Wyman, the music flowed forth. Jack found Wyman a chair and the two pianists entertained the gathering for an hour or more, playing together and separately.

  Nellie was still sobbing at the news she was to be a grandmother, until Dolly said, ‘Nellie, you’ll have to get your knitting needles out now.’

  ‘Oh, blimey, that child will have so much stuff it will last until he’s ninety years old!’ Nancy said with a grin.

  Dolly laughed and thought how strange it was that people always thought an unborn child would be a boy. Perhaps she would have a daughter instead and surprise them all.

  At ten o’clock the cabs arrived to take everyone home and Dolly paid them well.

  Exhausted but happy, Dolly and Jack returned to the Palace to enjoy a good night’s sleep.

  Whilst the noise of the party was shaking the rafters at the Emporium, Ezra Moreton was sitting alone, feeling very sorry for himself. He had always spent Christmas alone, but this year was different. In previous years he’d been wealthy, now he was not and he was having difficulty coming to terms with the fact. He decided he would put two of his other pubs on the property market come the New Year. Could he wait that long? Should he do it just after Christmas? Maybe that would be a better idea, because the quicker it was known they were up for sale, the quicker he would be rid of them.

  Christmas came and went quietly for Ezra and on the first day of trading he went to find an estate agent.

  ‘I can put your pubs on my books, of course, but how soon they will sell is another matter entirely,’ the man behind the desk said.

  ‘Just do your best!’ Ezra snapped and walked out.

  The man grinned. You’ll be lucky!

  On his way home, Ezra felt a little better. The Navigation Street public houses now belonged to the bank and two more were on the market, which would give him some much-needed cash. That would leave him only two to bring in drips and drabs of coin for his personal use.

  Ezra was looking forward to the day his brewery would be functioning again. Then he would be back on top once more.

  In the meantime, Aggie was in the Palace, bustling her way to the counter.

  ‘Dolly! I have…’

  ‘I know, something to tell me,’ Dolly said with a laugh.

  ‘Ar, Moreton’s got two pubs up for sale!’

  ‘I thought the bank owned them,’ Dolly said with a frown.

  ‘Two of ’em yes, but the Old Guy on Mill Lane and the Royal George on Alison Street are now in the hands of the property seller!’

  ‘Goodness,’ Dolly said.

  ‘That only leaves him with the Three Tuns on Upper Mill Lane and the Old Red Lion at the Bull Ring!’

  ‘Do you think he’ll have to sell those too?’

  Aggie gave a curt nod in thanks for her drink. ‘My guess? Yes.’

  ‘What will happen then?’

  ‘Moreton will be bankrupt!’

  Dolly shook her head and moved to serve other customers. It was a shame anyone could fall so low, but Ezra’s tumble had been by his own hand. Greed and spite had brought him to this point and now he was suffering the consequences. He only had himself to blame.

  As Aggie went from one gin palace to another, the news went with her and more than one person rejoiced at Moreton’s prospective downfall. The brewery giant was suffering and many thought it was not before time.

  A lot of people over the years had had dealings with Moreton. His lending of money and charging exorbitant interest rates had seen many at the gates of the workhouse. Now the thought that he could be facing that prospect himself was making countless people happy.

  The folk of Birmingham watched and waited to see how Moreton would fare. His private business was touted everywhere thanks to Aggie, although he had no idea it was she who was spreading the gossip.

  One day soon, Ezra Moreton might be penniless and that day couldn’t come soon enough for a great many people.

  48

  The weeks passed with no movement on the property market and Ezra was forced to try to sell his two remaining public houses as well. He was told by the estate agent there was little money around for people to buy property and that the market was deathly quiet, and Ezra despaired, but he put them up for sale nevertheless. He really had no other choice.

  Then, one day, he received another letter from the bank. His two ale houses repossessed by them had been valued and the resulting figure was insufficient to cover his loan. Therefore, they would be taking possession of the others held on the estate agent’s books.

  Ezra, in a fury, took a cab to the bank to see what on Earth Jonah Blessep was playing at.

  ‘You have to understand Mr, Moreton, the valuations have been made and are low due to there being no interest from possible purchasers.’

  ‘But that’s ridiculous! I didn’t borrow that much in the first place!’ Ezra slapped his copy of the mortgage facility on the desk. ‘I haven’t seen a penny of this either!’

  ‘You are forgetting the interest on the loan, Mr Moreton. Plus, the agreement was, and you’ll note it is written there,’ Jonah tapped a finger on the paper, ‘that monies would be paid by us to any builder who undertook the repairs to your brewery roof. Now, as I understand it, that has not come to pass.’

  ‘Not yet, but…’

  ‘I would also point out that you signed said agreement whereby your property or properties would become forfeit should you fail to honour your repayments.’

  Ezra sighed loudly. ‘Mr Blessep, be reasonable. I just need more time!’

  Blessep shook his head. ‘Mr Moreton, I’m afraid you are all out of time. Notices to quit and notification to the estate agent have already gone out.’

  ‘You can’t do this!’

  ‘Oh, but I can. It’s done, Mr Moreton. All of your property save the brewery now belongs to this bank. Therefore, our transaction is complete, the public houses have been received in full and final settlement.’

  ‘Mr Blessep, please…!’

  ‘Good day, Mr Moreton.’

  Jonah rang the hand bell on his desk and a teller came running. ‘Would you be kind enough to see Mr Moreton out, please?’

  ‘Certainly, sir,’ the teller answered with a grin.

  In the cab on the way home, Ezra’s melange of fee
lings fought each other for prominence. He was furious at Jonah Blessep for taking part of his livelihood and at himself for being so greedy and not wanting to spend money to save the brewery roof. He was angry at Dolly for not buying one of his properties in order to help him out. He was worried about having very little money coming in now to sustain his extravagant lifestyle. All that he earned now was the interest on a few loans he had agreed with folk who could not afford to repay him. He had no workers for he had no work to give them, and the builders were still unwilling to do his bidding.

  Ezra Moreton was at rock bottom as he sat by an empty fire grate in his living room. He knew everyone would know his misfortune in double-quick time, and his reputation would sink to that of a beggar.

  Not even able to summon the strength to kick the fire guard, Ezra fell into a deep depression.

  Whilst Ezra could not summon the will to move out of his chair, Aggie was dancing at the Emporium, her skirts up over her knees showing her bloomers to all and sundry. She could not have been happier. Ezra Moreton had got his comeuppance at last! He was on his knees financially and Aggie was revelling in his misery. She had known a lot of people who had been beholden to him, and she had seen the misery he put them through to get his money back from loans he had given. Now it was his turn to suffer.

  Aggie had told Jack the news and when the music ended she made her way out of the door. Now to tell Nellie and Dolly.

  Walking through the town, Aggie’s face was lit up by her grin, one which would last a long time.

  Entering the Palace, she pushed through to the counter.

  Dolly saw her coming and beat her to it. ‘You have something to tell me.’

  ‘Oh, I have! But first, congrat’lations on having a babby.’

  Cheers and applause sounded as the crowd overheard her words and Dolly laughed.

  Once the noise had died down, Aggie related the sorry update to the tale of Moreton and his lost pubs. Silence descended as she spoke, everyone eager to hear what Aggie had to say.

  ‘It’s strange, though, nobody has seen hide nor hair of him for weeks. Even I can’t find out what’s happened to him!’

  The shocked hiss of indrawn breath sounded loud in the quiet of the bar before Aggie continued. ‘He ain’t been to the bank, he ain’t been to see the property developer, Eli Hodges ain’t seen nothin’ of him neither!’

  ‘What about the runners, ain’t they discovered anything?’ someone asked.

  Aggie shook her head. ‘No. It’s a bloody mystery! I’ll tell you summat else an’ all, it’s a mystery I intend to solve one way or another!’

  When she had finished, a buzz of conversation ran round the bar.

  Slurping her free drink, Aggie’s cackle was loud as she clapped her hands.

  Dolly couldn’t help but smile at Aggie’s antics, although she did feel a little sorry for Ezra. She knew the rumours about his bully-boy tactics but she also knew nothing was ever proved. People were too afraid to inform the police evidently.

  She wondered then what the bank would do with six empty public houses. Would they be able to sell them on now Ezra was no longer involved? For a moment she wished she had the funds to buy at least one of them, but quickly pushed the thought away. Hadn’t it been greed that was the cause of Ezra being where he was now?

  Dolly had enough on her plate for the time being. Being the proud owner of the Emporium and co-owner of the Palace with Nellie, as well as being pregnant, would keep her busy for years to come.

  According to Aggie, Moreton’s brewery still lay untouched and Dolly wondered what would happen to it. Time would tell. It would be a shame to watch it crumble into dust.

  Dolly ambled into the kitchen where she sat to rest and convey the gossip to Sadie and Alice.

  The weather began to improve and the puddles dried up. The wind was still fresh, but a weak sun threw out its much-needed rays, lifting everyone’s spirits. Spring was on its way and snowdrops wilted as crocuses began to bloom in tiny gardens. The trees and bushes formed buds and birds chirped loudly. The winter was receding and businesses everywhere began to flourish. The weeks seemed to fly past and Dolly found herself feeling more tired at the end of each day. She needed to take things easy as her birthing time was not so very far away.

  One pleasant morning, Aggie rushed into the Palace, yelling for Dolly.

  ‘Important news!’ she called out.

  Dolly sighed and left her seat by the range.

  ‘What is it, Aggie? I was having a rest.’

  ‘Ezra Moreton has been found dead!’ Aggie’s words stopped all conversation in the bar.

  ‘Ezra’s dead? Are you sure? Oh dear! How? When?’

  Aggie took a breath then let it out slowly.

  Dolly filled a glass and waited while Aggie slurped. She noted all ears in the room were attuned to the old woman now.

  ‘I told you I’d find out, d’aint I? Well, it seems there was a ghastly smell coming from his house over in Drury Lane and the neighbours reported it to the council.’ Aggie paused to empty her glass, which Dolly then refilled. She was known to enjoy dragging out a tale and the crowd began to shuffle impatiently. ‘Any road up, the council went to investigate, and they found him in his chair, dead as a doornail.’

  Dolly instantly recalled the odour emanating from the wall in the Emporium on discovery of the body and her stomach roiled.

  Chatter began in the room at this news, and after yet another refill Aggie continued. ‘They fetched the police in and my sources tell me he had started to melt into his armchair.’

  Dolly gagged. ‘Enough with the details, Aggie,’ she said as she grimaced at the thought of the grisly scene.

  ‘The coroner scooped him up…’

  ‘Aggie!’ Dolly snapped.

  ‘Sorry,’ the old woman said sheepishly.

  Dolly gave her a last free gin and as Aggie went to the fireplace to divulge the details to an eager audience, Dolly returned to the kitchen, where she shared the news rather more sparingly.

  ‘He must have just sat there and died,’ Sadie said.

  ‘It’s so very sad,’ Dolly said quietly.

  ‘You’re one of the few who believe that,’ Sadie said.

  ‘I know he was not well liked but…’ Dolly began.

  ‘Dolly, he was hated!’ Sadie snapped.

  Dolly nodded, knowing it to be the truth. ‘Even so, to die alone and not be found for weeks…’ A shudder overcame her as she spoke.

  ‘The fates can be a bitch,’ Alice said and the others nodded. Dolly wondered what else they might have in store for them all.

  49

  That evening, Jack and Dolly discussed the demise of Ezra Moreton and the fate of the public houses held by the bank.

  ‘It’s a damned shame we can’t afford to buy one of them,’ Jack said.

  ‘I thought the same, but I need to clear our mortgage first and that will take years,’ Dolly replied.

  ‘He was a nasty piece of work, was Ezra, but I wouldn’t wish that sort of death on anyone.’

  ‘Nor me,’ Dolly said with a shudder. Then suddenly she said, ‘Jack, feel this!’

  Jack laid a hand on her stomach and was startled to feel the baby move.

  ‘Bloody hell! Don’t that hurt?’

  Shaking her head, Dolly said, ‘No, it feels wonderful!’

  ‘I’m glad you’re taking more rest, Mommy.’

  Dolly laughed and said, ‘I am, Daddy.’

  Jack beamed. ‘I still can’t believe it. We’re having a baby!’

  ‘I’m having a baby,’ Dolly corrected him and they burst out laughing. All was well with their world and they went to bed hand in hand.

  The following week, Ezra Moreton was buried in a pauper’s grave and only the vicar was in attendance, although the burial drew a crowd who stood on the road to watch. The brewery and his house stood empty as he had no family to leave them to. It was not long, however, before the house was looted and all his remaining possessions were stolen.r />
  The six public houses were still owned by the bank and, despite being put on the market, they had not sold. Although the asking price was very low, there were few who could afford to take them on, and those who could didn’t want to.

  Aggie trundled into the Palace one afternoon with yet more news.

  ‘It’s about Ezra,’ she said to Dolly after accepting the customary free gin. ‘As you know, nobody saw him for weeks before he croaked…’ Seeing Dolly’s frown she corrected herself. ‘Before he passed on, so no one knew he’d gone. Anyway, the word is summat in his brain went wrong.’ She halted for a quick slurp. ‘When they found him, he was slumped down in his chair as if the whole of the left side of his body had died first.’ Aggie took another sip then emptied the glass. She gave her usual dry cough.

  Dolly sighed and filled the glass yet again.

  ‘His face was sagging down on the one side an’ all.’

  ‘How awful, I wonder what caused it,’ Dolly said.

  ‘Apoplexy, the doctor called it.’

  ‘When my time comes, I’d like it go in my sleep,’ Dolly said with a shudder.

  ‘Wouldn’t we all?’ Aggie picked up her glass and wandered into the crowd to re-tell her gossip to eager listeners.

  Dolly knew this piece of gossip would be talked about for a very long time.

  Over time, the gin palaces continued to conduct a strong trade and with each passing week Dolly’s stomach swelled. She was a picture of good health but her back ached and she grew tired quickly. Each afternoon she took a nap and every evening she retired early. This having a baby lark was taking its toll on her. Only having a tiny frame herself and with her crippled leg, she was finding it difficult to get around, but she persevered.

  The doors of the Palace were propped open as the weather improved and spring became the summer. The sun shone down full and strong, and trees and bushes were heavy with leaves. Birds called and swooped, some enjoying riding the thermals as the heat increased. Children ran around barefoot with barely a stitch of clothing on as their mothers sat on chairs outside their front doors, passing the time by sharing gossip.