The Children from Gin Barrel Lane

by Lindsey Hutchinson

  ‘I… my…’ Unable to find the words, Dolly burst into tears.

  ‘Oh crikey, now look what I’ve gone and done. I d’aint mean to upset you. It don’t matter – just dry your eyes.’ Jack passed over a handkerchief which was none too clean.

  ‘There, that’s better. Now then, what I need to know is – will anybody be missing you? Cos if not, you’d best come inside with me and have a bite of supper.’

  Dolly shook her head. ‘I have no family any more.’

  Hearing another sob, Jack decided not to probe further despite wanting to know more about the girl. He wondered what had happened to her family, and why she was hiding here in their yard. Risking a quick glance, he noticed she was very thin; how long had it been since she had last eaten? Rather than pry too deeply at this juncture, Jack said quietly, ‘I’m sorry to hear it, Dolly. In that case maybe you should come in and meet everybody. Firstly, there’s me – Jack Larkin – and Nellie, my mother. Then there’s Poppy Charlton the barmaid – oh and Nancy Sampson our cook.’

  ‘What about your mum? What will she say about me coming in?’ Dolly asked tentatively.

  ‘Well, she’ll probably say – “Jack, what’re you bloody thinking bringing me another sodding mouth to feed? Don’t I pay out enough already? What can she do to earn her keep?”’

  Dolly giggled, then said, ‘She’d be right though, Jack.’

  ‘So, what’s the alternative – leave you out here to starve? I don’t think so. It ain’t my way, Dolly, to ignore somebody in need if I can help. That being said, get yer bottom off that cold floor and come inside with me,’ Jack grinned as he got to his feet and stuck out his hand.

  Dolly grasped the lifeline held out to her and smoothed down her dirty dress. Grasping a walking stick she looked at Jack for his reaction to her being a cripple.

  A single nod and a smile from the boy who had rescued her told Dolly all she needed to know. Having a crippled leg would make no difference to Jack.

  In the warm kitchen, Jack introduced Dolly to their cook. Mrs Sampson was a big lady with a mouth like a navvy. Her arms had defined muscles from years of lifting huge heavy pans. Grey hair stuck out in all directions from beneath a mob cap and pale blue eyes gave the girl the once-over.

  What she saw was a stick-thin child of no more than thirteen years old leaning on a walking cane. A simple cotton dress, dirty and tattered, hung on her tiny frame, its hem at knee length showing her withered left leg. Her boots were almost useless, the uppers and soles held together by string wrapped around the whole foot. The girl’s dark hair was matted and would no doubt be alive with lice but her brown eyes were glistening like molten chocolate. Dolly also had the most infectious grin showing surprisingly clean teeth.

  ‘Right, put yer skinny arse on that chair and get this down yer neck!’ Nancy Sampson said as she placed a steaming bowl of mutton stew on the table.

  ‘Thank you, Mrs Sampson, but I don’t have any money,’ Dolly said as she stood quite still.

  Nancy harrumphed then the tirade began. ‘Money! Did I ask for payment? No, I bloody didn’t! Talk about ungrateful…’ The cook ambled away still muttering and came back with a bowl of stew for Jack. ‘Sit, the pair o’ you before I take that sodding cane to yer backs! And I want to see them bowls empty!’ Slicing fresh bread, she slapped a chunk next to each bowl before wandering away to make tea.

  Dolly and Jack grinned at each other before tucking into their delicious meals. They chuckled as every now and then another expletive would escape the lips of the cook.

  ‘Jack!’ Nellie’s voice came again.

  ‘He’s having his bloody tea, Nellie! Fer God’s sake give the lad a break – poor little bugger is worn to a frazzle!’ Nancy Sampson yelled back and then continued her mumbling as she pottered about the huge kitchen.

  The two youngsters giggled, then Jack whispered, ‘It’s always like this. Nancy and me mother shouting and swearing but they’m great friends really.’

  Dolly nodded and laid her spoon in her empty dish. ‘Thank you, Mrs Sampson, that was lovely.’

  ‘Good. Glad you liked it cos there’s a bloody great pan full there and you’ve got to ’ave some more!’

  Dolly nodded, her pursed lips holding back a laugh. Finally, their hunger sated, the children sat with a cup of tea and listened to the shouting match between Nellie and Nancy as the former called for help and the latter told her friend to go jump in the canal.

  Suddenly Nellie was in the doorway, her hands on her hips. ‘Jack – come on!’ Then her eyes locked on young Dolly. ‘What the…? Who’s this?’

  ‘Mum, her name is Dolly and I found her in the back yard,’ Jack explained.

  ‘Found her, did you? Well you can damn well un-find her! I can’t take in every waif off the street!’ Nellie yelled.

  Jack glanced at the young girl saying, ‘I told you.’

  ‘What? What did you tell her?’ Nellie enquired, directing her gaze back to her son.

  ‘Look, Mum, Dolly ain’t got any family and she was starving—’ Jack proceeded to explain.

  ‘Jack, it doesn’t matter. I’ll be on my way.’ Dolly turned to the cook. ‘Mrs Sampson, thank you for the delicious supper, I’m very grateful.’ Again, to Jack, she went on, ‘Maybe we’ll meet again, Jack Larkin, I thank you for your kindness.’ Grabbing her cane, Dolly limped towards the back door.

  ‘Mum! You can’t turn her out!’ Jack protested as he jumped from his seat.

  With an explosive sigh, Nellie relented as she heard the calls from the bar. Poppy was run off her feet and desperately needing help. ‘All right! Dolly, if I take you in – and I ain’t saying I will – but if I do, you would have to share a room with Poppy. As for work, you could fill the bottles and Jack would fetch them up from the cellar. I wouldn’t be paying you a wage, but bed and board would be in.’

  ‘Oh, thank you, Mrs Larkin!’ Dolly said on a grateful breath.

  ‘Don’t be getting your hopes up yet, young lady, I’ll want to know much more about you before you get to live in this house.’

  ‘Nellie!’ Poppy’s voice filtered through to the kitchen.

  ‘I’m coming!’ Nellie yelled back as she grabbed Jack’s arm, ‘and so are you, young man. Dolly, you can help Nancy in the kitchen for now.’

  Dolly exchanged a grin with Jack as he was hauled away to the bar, and she felt blessed to have met him.

  After her mother’s passing, her step-father had voiced the notion of Dolly taking her place both in the home and in his bed. It was the day of the funeral, following the interment, that Dolly had run away. That had been three months ago and she had scavenged to survive ever since.

  Now her luck had turned and Dolly Perkins felt safe for the first time in a long while. The family who might take her in off the street were a little rough around the edges but they appeared honest and hard-working. She felt sure she could fit in well once she came to terms with all the bad language. She smiled as she recalled her mother telling her it was a trait of Black Country women to cuss constantly. Dolly didn’t care, for she would be eternally grateful to these warm-hearted people for saving her from the workhouse, should she be allowed to join their coterie, of course.

  Leaning her cane against the sink, Dolly set to washing the dishes, humming a little tune as she did so.

  Nancy Sampson watched and thought to herself, ‘Poor little wench. She ain’t got anything but a gammy leg and yet she’s happy to wash dishes. God bless her!’

  ‘Thank you, Dolly, that’s saved me a job I hate,’ Nancy said, ‘now come and sit down and tell me all about yerself.’

  Plonking herself on a kitchen chair, Dolly related how she’d come to be in the yard of The Crown Saloon.

  3

  ‘So why are you called Dolly Daydream?’ Nancy Sampson asked.

  ‘My mum used to call me that on account of me daydreaming about the faraway places like in the books we read together,’ Dolly answered.

  ‘What sort of books?’ Nancy was imp
ressed the child could read and her interest perked up.

  ‘I love atlases best, showing all the places in the world on the globe. They all seem so mystical and exotic,’ Dolly said with a smile.

  ‘Did you go to school, then?’ Nancy asked, surprised at the girl’s use of such fancy words.

  ‘No, my mum taught me at home,’ Dolly said sadly.

  Seeing the distress that crossed the girl’s face, Nancy decided it was best not to pursue the matter further for now.

  ‘My mum told me my dad died of the consumption when I was about twelve months old and within a few months she married Arthur Micklewhite. He was horrible to us, Mrs Sampson; he used to hit my mum, and then he started to hit me too when Mum wasn’t about cos I wouldn’t…’ Dolly’s eyes filled with tears at the memories.

  ‘You poor little thing. What did your mum say about that?’ Nancy probed.

  Dolly shook her head and lowered her eyes.

  ‘You didn’t tell her, did you?’ Nancy was horrified that this little one had suffered her abuse in silence for fear of upsetting her mother.

  ‘She lost a baby and I don’t think she ever really got over it. Then a few months ago my mum died and after the funeral I ran away. I couldn’t stay in that house with him, Mrs Sampson, I just couldn’t!’

  Nancy sighed loudly before an expletive left her lips; one casting doubt as to Arthur Micklewhite’s parentage.

  A giggle from Dolly caused Nancy to let out a loud belly laugh. ‘I know I’ve got a bad mouth, but it ain’t no wonder living here with Nellie Larkin. That woman fair rubs me up the wrong way at times I don’t mind telling you!’

  ‘Jack said you were friends,’ Dolly said.

  ‘Oh, we are, but that don’t mean she don’t get on my last nerve. She could make a saint swear could that one, but she’s been good to me over the years.’

  ‘Don’t you have any children, Mrs Sampson?’ Dolly asked innocently.

  ‘No lass. I was pregnant once – a long time ago. My husband, Cecil, was robbed and murdered on his way back from work. They beat him badly and left him in an alley to die. It was all too much for me and I lost the babby. I ain’t had anything to do with bloody men from that day to this.’

  ‘I’m sorry to hear about your husband and baby, Mrs Sampson,’ Dolly said, a feeling of guilt coming over her for asking the question in the first place.

  ‘Ar well, as I say – it was a long time ago,’ Nancy re-iterated, but Dolly saw the grief still evident in the pale blue eyes and her heart ached for the woman – and herself.

  Dolly felt keenly the loss of her mother, but she couldn’t imagine what it would be like to lose a child. It wasn’t the natural order of things – surely it was supposed to be that older people passed first. This woman had lost her child even before it had been born; it had had no chance of a life. Mrs Sampson had been robbed of seeing her son or daughter grow, get married and have a child of their own, and Dolly felt the heartache as she looked at the woman inwardly mourning her baby. Was there anything Dolly could do to lessen the emptiness she could see Mrs Sampson was suffering? How could she make the woman feel a little better? Then an idea jumped into her mind, but how would Mrs Sampson view it? Would she think Dolly was feeling sorry for her? Would she see it as an act of charity? Dolly weighed up the questions in her mind before reaching her decision. Should she voice the notion now as she might not otherwise have the confidence to do so?

  But before she could speak, the conversation swerved in another direction as Nancy told her all about the saloon and its patrons.

  ‘You wouldn’t believe the sort we get in ’ere,’ she said, rolling her eyes. ‘Their kids are running around in rags with bare feet but they still find the money for their gin. Some blokes have jobs but their wives spend their hard-earned coin in here.’

  Dolly listened quietly, trying to understand why people would live like that.

  ‘It’s a mystery ain’t it?’ Nancy asked, as if reading Dolly’s thoughts. ‘They have a house and babbies to look after and what do they do? They come in this place and drink that shit which will eventually rot their guts. It’s a strange old world, ain’t it?’

  ‘It is, Mrs Sampson,’ Dolly concurred and nodded as Nancy held up the teapot. ‘I always wonder why it is the good die young and those who care nothing for others appear to lead long and reasonably nice lives.’

  ‘Well now, that’s a deep thought for one so young,’ Nancy commented as she poured boiling water over the tealeaves in the pot.

  ‘My mum told me I should think things through from every angle before I make a decision or open my mouth to voice it,’ Dolly said with a sad smile.

  ‘Now that’s a piece of advice Nellie could benefit from at times. That bloody gob of hers is gonna land her in trouble one day. I keep telling her – Nellie, I says – shut yer trap and give yer brain a chance. The problem is, I don’t think her brain works at all half the time.’ Nancy gave a little laugh as the fondness she held for her friend showed on her face.

  ‘I think Mrs Larkin is very astute,’ Dolly said.

  ‘How come?’ Nancy asked, her interest sparked.

  ‘Well, she runs a business – a very good one by what I’ve heard. She works her staff hard but no more than she does herself.’

  ‘You’m quite erstoot yerself gel, to have noticed all that in the few hours you’ve been here,’ Nancy said, wiggling her silver-grey eyebrows.

  Dolly smiled warmly. ‘You all seem really very nice.’

  ‘We am cocka! We’m bostin!’ Nancy let out a howl of laughter which echoed around the kitchen.

  Having met for the first time only hours ago, the two had bonded like it was meant to be. Nancy set the pots and kettle on the range to boil some water for the girl to have a bath. Clattering cups on saucers she marvelled at how the fates stepped in when the need was greatest. Before long Dolly was luxuriating in the warmth of the bath.

  Nancy had been secretly dwelling on her lost child for some time and now Dolly had come into her life. A thirteen year old with a crippled leg might just be able to save her from going mad with grief despite the years gone by. Every now and then, the loss weighed desperately heavy, and Nancy Sampson had often contemplated joining her loved ones in heaven. It was only the love of her friends in The Crown Saloon that had prevented her throwing herself in the canal. Now she had someone to take care of, to love and be loved by, if God saw fit to grant it. Nancy had always adored Jack but had constantly wished for a child of her own. She doted on the boy and now there was another to share her affections. Her thoughts were interrupted a moment later when Poppy staggered into the room.

  ‘Phew! It’s insane out there!’ Poppy Charlton said as she dropped onto a kitchen chair and began to rub her aching feet. ‘Hello there, Dolly, I’m Poppy. Jack told me about you. Nice to meet you.’

  Dolly smiled and returned the greeting shyly. ‘Mrs Larkin said I was to share a room with you, if she takes me in that is. I hope it doesn’t put you out.’

  ‘Not at all, sweetheart, it will be nice to have some company,’ Poppy said as she gratefully accepted the tea offered by Nancy.

  ‘Thank you, but Mrs Larkin hasn’t made up her mind yet – about whether I stay or go,’ the girl answered with a little smile.

  ‘I expect Nellie will be wanting a meeting after closing time – she’ll want to know the ins and outs of Meg’s arse!’ Nancy said with a sigh.

  Dolly burst out laughing at the turn of phrase which caused the others to join in.

  It was gone midnight when Nellie closed the saloon, her podgy arms pushing the last customers out of the door before shooting the bolts top and bottom. Turning off the gas lamps, she and Jack wandered wearily into the kitchen for a much needed cup of tea.

  After a long interrogation from Nellie Larkin, Dolly was told she would be allowed to stay provided she behaved herself.

  ‘I ain’t having you and Jack messing about,’ Nellie said, ‘you’ll work same as we do. Now if I find out you’ve b
een lying to me about having no family and what happened to you before you came here, I’ll throw you out meself. Do you understand me?’

  ‘Yes, Mrs Larkin. I haven’t lied to you, nor will I. You have been very kind to me and I wouldn’t repay that kindness with lies or deceit.’ Dolly spoke in a serious tone to ensure Nellie understood she was indeed telling the truth.

  ‘Right, you girls get off upstairs. I want you up bright and early tomorrer.’ Nellie said with a perfunctory nod.

  Then with grateful thanks she and Poppy retired to bed.

  ‘Come on, Dolly, I have a nightgown you can wear,’ Poppy said as they left the kitchen.

  Jack followed suit shortly afterwards leaving the two women to discuss what they had learned about the young girl found in their yard.

  ‘Nell, I’m ever so glad you took young Dolly in,’ Nancy said.

  ‘I d’aint have much choice, did I? What with Jack’s begging and you feeding her up, what was I gonna do? I couldn’t chuck her back onto the streets, poor little bugger,’ Nellie said with a shake of her head.

  ‘What I was thinking…’ Nancy paused, unsure how to say what was on her mind.

  ‘Go on then let’s have it,’ Nellie said with a tired sigh.

  ‘What if… well, I wondered…’

  ‘Will you get to the point before Hell freezes over?!’ Nellie’s patience was fast running out.

  ‘Dolly could be my little wench!’ Nancy snapped back.

  Staring at the woman who had been her friend for many years, Nellie couldn’t believe what she was hearing. ‘What?! Nance, you can’t be serious!’ Nellie said at last.

  ‘I am so don’t you be poking yer nose in my business!’ Nancy retaliated.

  ‘She could be lying through her back teeth about having no family! What will you do if somebody comes looking for her?’ Nellie asked.

  ‘Look, you’ve got Jack, but I ain’t got nobody. Surely you can see the poor little mite needs somebody to take care of her.’ Nancy said, taking umbrage.