Dolly shivered again as she willed the morning to come quicker.
It was very early and Dolly was downstairs first. She fed the range with coal and set the kettle to boil. Into a massive frying pan, she dropped the rashers of bacon taken from the cold slab in the scullery. It wouldn’t be long before the aroma of cooking food would bring the others from their beds.
By the time tea was made, Nancy and Nellie were in the kitchen with astonished looks on their faces.
‘I couldn’t sleep,’ Dolly said in reply to their surprise.
‘Why, gel? Is it cos you’ve a room of your own now?’ Nellie asked.
‘No, it was lovely of you to let me have it.’
Dolly smiled, passing the cosy-covered teapot to Nancy. ‘I was overheated in the night and I was about to open the window when I saw a man snooping around in the yard.’
‘You what?!’ Nellie almost gagged on her tea.
‘I guess he was trying to find a way in,’ Dolly added.
‘Bloody thieving—’ Nellie began. ‘It’s a good job all the doors were bolted. I wonder if whoever it was might try again. We’ll have to make sure everything’s locked up tight.’
‘You don’t think it could have been one of Ezra’s—?’ Nancy began.
‘No!’ Nellie cut her off mid-sentence, tilting her head to Dolly who was tending the bacon. ‘I suspect it was an opportunistic effort that came to nowt.’
Nancy also glanced at Dolly and nodded. ‘I expect you’re right.’
Poppy and Jack filed into the kitchen sleepy-eyed.
Nancy sliced bread to go with the bacon now on everyone’s plate and they all tucked in. Between bites of her breakfast, Dolly explained again what she’d seen the previous night.
‘You d’aint see who it was?’ Jack asked.
‘No, but – there was something familiar about him. I can’t put my finger on it, but I’m sure I’ve seen him somewhere before. It was dark, Jack,’ Dolly said apologetically.
‘What are we going to do, Mum?’ Jack asked.
‘Ain’t nothing we can do, lad, other than to make sure the place is locked up as tight as a duck’s arse,’ Nellie replied.
Dolly choked on her tea at the phrase and Poppy patted her back gently.
‘Anyway, I have to go out later so I’m relying on you lot to get the bar stocked and the doors open on time,’ Nellie added.
‘Where you going?’ Jack asked, eyeing his mother suspiciously.
‘I have to go and see Mr Morton about an extra delivery because we’ve been so busy these last weeks,’ Nellie lied.
Jack nodded. ‘Me and Poppy will…’
‘Poppy and I will…’ Dolly corrected him with a cheeky grin.
Jack sighed but with good humour. ‘Poppy and I will fill the shelves and Dolly can sweep.’
Titters were stifled then Nellie said, ‘Right, let’s get to it then,’ as she ushered them out of the kitchen. Turning back to Nancy she raised her hand and crossed her fingers. Nancy did the same with a nod of her head.
Nellie looked at the building in front of her – Ezra Morton’s brewery. Just off Nova Scotia Street, it occupied a massive piece of land. Here the workers brewed beer and distilled gin and Ezra supplied many landlords and owners of pubs in the area.
The smell emanating from the works was pungent and Nellie felt her stomach roil. She was nervous but knew she had to keep it in check; she could not allow Ezra to detect her fear.
Taking a deep breath, Nellie marched through the open wrought iron gates and into the red brick building.
‘Where would I find Mr Morton?’ she asked a man wearing a filthy apron who was sweeping the floor.
‘Through there, missus,’ he said pointing to a door.
Nellie nodded her thanks and knocked on the door. Without waiting for an answer, she strode into the office, her head held high.
Ezra Morton was sat behind a huge wooden desk and he looked up from his writing as Nellie walked in.
‘Well now, Mrs Larkin, how very nice to see you. Won’t you sit down?’ His eyebrows lifted in surprise at the unexpected visitor, and calling so early to boot.
‘Ezra.’ Nellie said as she took a chair facing him.
‘To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit, Nellie?’ Ezra’s honeyed tones were quiet as he leaned back. With his elbows on the arms of the chair, he plaited his fingers over his flat stomach.
‘Oh, I think you know as well as I do, Ezra Morton. You sent your bullies to scare me into paying you more money each week. Well, I’m here to tell you it ain’t gonna happen. What I need to know is just how much is left on my debt,’ Nellie said as she raised her eyebrows.
Ezra chuckled. ‘Always the strong one, ain’t you? I always admired you for that, Nellie. You’re about the only one who’s not afraid of me.’
You couldn’t be more wrong! Nellie thought but gave a confident smile instead.
Pulling open a drawer he took out a large ledger and flipped it open. Running his eyes down a page with her name written on the top he said, ‘Hmmm, it’s a lot, Nellie, and it’s my guess you don’t have it. So, what we have to decide now is – where to go from here?’
Turning the ledger so Nellie could see the total owing, he then snapped it shut and returned it to the drawer.
With all credit to Nellie she never batted an eyelid, even after seeing she still owed two thousand pounds.
‘Indeed Ezra, where do we go from here?’ she asked, a little smile lifting the corners of her mouth.
‘You’ve got a young lad, ain’t you?’ Ezra asked, matching her smile.
‘I have, and he stays with me. Don’t even think about drawing him into your web of dirty dealings.’ Nellie kept her voice even despite her heart hammering out of her chest.
‘I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,’ Ezra said, a grin spreading over his handsome face.
‘Look, Ezra, let’s not play games, eh? I owe you and I’m paying back each week. I’ve never missed a payment yet, not like others you deal with, and I only sell your muck – the stuff you have the nerve to call gin.’ Nellie sniffed.
To her surprise Ezra let out a great belly laugh. ‘I have to hand it to you, Nellie Larkin, you’ve got style. If you were a man, you’d have balls the size of mine.’
‘And if bullshit was music, you’d have yer own orchestra!’ Nellie countered.
Ezra’s booming laughter sounded again. Then leaning forward he said, ‘All right, how about this? You pay an extra sixpence a week and we’ll leave it at that – for now.’
Nellie stood and proffered her hand to seal the deal. They shook and she turned and left his office.
For a long time, Ezra stared at the closed door shaking his head. That woman had some nerve.
Nellie walked from the building quickly, a feeling of relief flowing through her. Two things had been achieved. Firstly, she had discovered the sum owed, and secondly, she had struck a deal which she could live with. Furious that she had only been paying off the interest, which was not what was agreed, Nellie determined to pay off the debit in one go as soon as she could. She congratulated herself on her calm dealings with the man everyone feared. Now she had to find a way of gathering two thousand pounds together, then she could visit Ezra again. She would present him with the money, get a receipt and tell him to shove his gin where the sun don’t shine. For Nellie Larkin, that day couldn’t come fast enough.
Whilst Nellie was bandying words with Ezra, Arthur Micklewhite was readying himself for a funeral.
The widow, Sylvia Chilton, would not know him, of course, but would accept that Arthur was a colleague of her late husband. It was a ploy he’d used time after time and it had never failed him yet.
Walking to the appointed place, Arthur scanned the crowd in order to identify the grieving woman and her daughter. There, in the middle of a huddle of black-clad figures was the person his eyes sought, and to his delight so was the daughter – and the man he presumed was her husband.
Arth
ur really did feel his luck was changing for the better despite his failure to break into The Crown Saloon the night before.
Going through the motions was second nature to him now and everything went smoothly. Gabriel Short was invited for afternoon tea the following week. No doubt the scowling daughter would be there too, but all he had to do was hold his nerve and charm them both.
Arthur returned home a decidedly happier man.
11
Ezra Morton was contemplating his meeting with Nellie Larkin when one of his men walked into the office.
‘I wish you would remember to knock!’ Ezra spat.
‘Sorry, boss,’ the big man said looking suitably chastised.
‘Now you’re in, what do you want?’
‘Erm… Mr Aldritch has just taken over The Comet Inn over at Cheapside, boss.’
‘And?’ Ezra asked with a sigh.
‘And – do you want me to pay a visit?’ The big man was shuffling uncomfortably from foot to foot.
‘Yes, Frederick, please do that,’ Ezra replied.
The man nodded and left his employer’s office quicker than he entered.
Frederick Dell was a giant of a man and Ezra likened him to a big stupid dog, always at his master’s heels, but he was handy to have around. People walked around him rather than tangle with him and Ezra had been glad of him more than once. Having been threatened with violence on occasion he had been happy to let Frederick step up and protect him.
Ezra liked this huge dim-witted fellow despite his having to explain every little thing over and over to ensure Frederick understood. Now he was off to visit a new landlord to explain the lie of the land – protection offered for a small fee each week and the offer of a refurbishment loan.
Rubbing his hands together, Ezra knew by the end of the day he would have another ‘tied house’.
Donning his bowler hat and grabbing his silver topped walking cane, he decided it was time to see just how good business was for Nellie Larkin at The Crown Saloon.
Hailing a cab Ezra climbed aboard calling out the address. As they rolled along, he stared out of the window at the dirty streets with poverty-stricken people ambling about aimlessly. He shook his head at seeing beggars standing on the street corners – someone should do something about all this – but he knew it would not be him. Ezra Morton enjoyed his money too much to be spending it on improving the town; that’s what the council was for. Despite the sun shining down, the dirty grey smoke emitted from factory chimneys hung low over the town, the pall giving the whole area a look of dirty degradation.
They passed The Gaiety Palace where Ezra had spent many happy hours. He was fond of attending the shows and socialising. The clip-clop of the horse’s hooves on the cobblestones echoed off the buildings lining either side of the road and the bouncing carriage rattled his bones. Shanks’ Pony would have been kinder on his body, but it would not do to be seen walking – not a man of his status.
As the carriage drew to a halt, Ezra looked out onto the façade of The Crown Saloon whilst waiting for the jarvey to jump down and open the door.
Alighting, he slipped half a crown into the man’s hand.
‘Thankee, sir!’ the coachman said, tipping his hat, his eyes as wide as saucers at the incredibly large tip.
Ezra stood a moment looking at the frontage of the building as the carriage rolled away. Nellie Larkin had done wonders in turning her old pub into such a showpiece. Plate glass windows, gas lamps, a new sign depicting a golden crown.
Stepping through the open doorway, Ezra couldn’t believe his eyes. It was wall to wall with bodies. Revellers singing and dancing, some debating what they felt to be important topics, such as the strength of the gin. The odour of unwashed bodies caused him to wrinkle his nose as he parted a way through the crowd with his walking cane until he reached the counter. There he found himself staring as Poppy Charlton smiled at him.
So far nothing had been as he expected, but for a moment this beautiful young woman had taken his breath away.
‘What can I get you, sir?’ she asked.
‘Nothing, thank you,’ Ezra murmured.
‘Sorry, mister, but if you ain’t drinking then make way for them as is,’ Poppy tempered her words with another dazzling smile.
‘C’mon Poppy!’ a customer called.
‘All right, keep yer hat on,’ she yelled back as she moved to serve the impatient man.
Poppy! What a delightful name!
Ezra felt his heartbeat increase a little hearing the girl’s laugh, and again when she glanced back at him. He watched her laugh and joke with those on the other side of the counter.
‘When you gonna marry me, Poppy?’ an old man with a grizzled expression called out.
‘Not until you’re a millionaire, Mr Cartwright,’ Poppy answered jovially.
‘Oh, bugger!’ the man replied as he was jostled in fun by those around him.
The girl certainly was a blonde haired beauty with eyes the colour of cornflowers. She had a sense of humour too. Ezra continued to stare, unaware that Nellie had spied him and was now glaring at this man who had the audacity to be checking out her business, as well as her bar staff, for that was surely why he was here.
‘Mr Morton! To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit, Ezra?’ Nellie used the words he had said to her earlier that day and she saw him smile.
‘I was curious about what you’d done with this place. I haven’t seen it since you renovated. Very nice, Nellie,’ he said, glancing around but then his eyes lingered on Poppy.
Nellie’s stomach turned over as she saw the look on his face. Oh no! Not Poppy! Somewhere deep inside she knew her plea would go unheard. If Ezra Morton set his sights on something – he usually got it. And if she was not mistaken, what he wanted now was Poppy Charlton.
‘Was there anything else?’ Nellie snapped, bringing his focus back to herself.
‘No, only – who is that girl?
‘She’s my barmaid and I’ll thank you to get yer beady eyes off her. She ain’t for you, Ezra.’ Nellie’s voice sailed across the room and heads turned to listen in to the conversation.
Seeing the warning in Nellie’s eyes, he smiled. ‘We’ll see,’ he said as he tipped his bowler and shuffled out through the throng to hail a cab again.
Nellie sighed with a relief which she guessed would only be temporary for she was certain they would be seeing a lot more of Ezra in the near future.
Answering a shout with an expletive, Nellie returned to her work but her mind was on how to shield Poppy from Morton’s attentions.
That night when everywhere was securely locked up, Nellie related her account of her meeting that morning.
‘So now you know where I went and what for,’ she said.
‘Two thousand pounds! Blimey, Mum, that’s a fortune!’ Jack gasped.
‘I know but the sooner we get it, the quicker I’ll be out of Morton’s clutches. So, I need some ideas as to how to raise that much money.’ Nellie laid her hands on the kitchen table they were all now sitting around.
‘I’ll work for free, Nellie,’ Dolly piped up. ‘After all, you were good enough to take me in off the streets. You saved my life and it’s the least I can do to repay you. Bed and board is enough.’
Nancy’s eyes brimmed with tears at the girl’s thoughtfulness.
‘Me an’ all, Mum,’ Jack said, following suit.
‘Me too, even though we’ve only just started to get paid,’ Poppy added.
‘I will as well,’ Nancy said finally.
‘Thank you, but I fear it won’t be enough, so you all keep your money. I do thank you very much for the offer though. We have to find a way of getting all that cash together in one go so I can tell Morton to shove it up his—’
‘What about a bake sale?’ Nancy put in quickly.
‘Ar, it would help,’ Nellie agreed. ‘What else?’
Heads shook as silence fell and tired brains worked hard but produced no answers.
‘Right,
let’s sleep on it then,’ Nellie said and with that everyone retired to their beds feeling thoroughly exhausted.
Despite being desperately tired, Dolly spent long hours thinking about the discussion around the kitchen table. Nellie was in great need of funds and there was a way Dolly could help. Staring at the moonlit ceiling she murmured, ‘Nellie has been so very kind to me these last weeks, what would you do, Mum?’
As if in answer, a gentle wind took up outside and rattled the window. Dolly smiled into the shadows. She knew now what had to be done, and the sudden wind on such a balmy night – to her at least – was an omen. It was her mum’s approval on the decision made.
12
Dolly was up early the following morning and was out before anyone else roused. She was on a mission. Limping down Corporation Street her eyes searched each building. The place she was looking for was on this major thoroughfare somewhere. Then she spotted it – the Abyssinian Gold Jewellery Co. Ltd. Stopping to stare into the window through the wrought iron shutters, she was mesmerised by the gold glinting in the sunshine. It was not open yet and Dolly waited patiently by the door for someone to arrive. Leaning on the doorframe to ease the burden of her weight on her good leg, she heard the church bell strike eight.
Just then a tall thin man walked up to her. ‘Be off with you, you can’t beg here!’ he snapped as he unlocked the door.
‘I’m not a beggar, I was waiting for you,’ Dolly replied.
Casting an eye over her old clothes he shook his head. ‘My dear girl, I’m certain there is nothing in this establishment you could possibly afford!’
‘My dear man, I’m not here to buy!’ Dolly said with her nose in the air.
‘Oh,’ he said as he pushed open the door.
‘Indeed.’ Dolly followed him inside and again waited while he opened the shutters.
The Children from Gin Barrel Lane Page 6