The Children from Gin Barrel Lane

by Lindsey Hutchinson

  Ezra smiled and touched his hat with the silver topped cane to the people now muttering quietly.

  ‘Mr Morton, people are talking,’ Poppy said, taking a step forward.

  ‘Let them, Miss Charlton, I’m not worried by a little gossip.’

  Poppy sighed and continued to glance around as she walked through the throng of people.

  Seeing her discomfort, Ezra smiled in an effort to comfort her. ‘My apologies, Miss Charlton. It was not my intention to subject you to tittle-tattle.’ Cupping her elbow, he moved them further into the market.

  ‘Mr Morton, I’m not sure it’s such a good idea to be seen with you,’ Poppy began.

  ‘Why ever not?’ Ezra feigned a hurt look.

  ‘Well, I’ve heard – there are stories…’ Poppy was trying to dissuade him from accompanying her although her efforts were half-hearted. In truth, she was enjoying being with him, and the jealous looks of the women they passed. She felt important walking by this man’s side and loved the way the crowd parted to allow them through.

  ‘Ah yes, I’ve heard them too,’ Ezra said with a beaming smile. ‘It’s all a tissue of lies, Miss Charlton.’

  ‘What about poor Mr Pickles?’ She was unable to hold her tongue and her question was out before she realised what she’d said.

  ‘Let me tell you about that dear old man. Mr Pickles’ daughter was due to wed so he borrowed some money from me. After the wedding I learned the old fellow had become ill so I went to call on him.’ Ezra was looking Poppy directly in the eye and he saw she was hanging onto his every word.

  ‘So I heard! And that’s not all – it’s said you cut…’ She raised her hand and her fingers and thumb moved in a pincer movement.

  ‘I did, Poppy,’ Ezra said, daring to use her first name. ‘I did cut – his debt in half.’

  ‘Oh!’ Poppy’s cheeks burned with embarrassment.

  ‘All these tales about me are not true. However, I cannot deny it helps when collecting debts, but make no mistake – my men are courteous and helpful, I absolutely insist upon it.’

  Poppy felt relieved and was now more inclined to believe that the stories she’d heard about this handsome man were indeed all lies.

  The conversation halted while Poppy bought some vegetables and then she moved on, Ezra close by her side.

  ‘Miss Charlton…’ Ezra began.

  With a gentle blush, she turned to face him.

  ‘Miss Charlton, would you do me the honour of having dinner with me sometime soon? We could visit the theatre and dine at our leisure.’

  ‘I’m afraid I don’t have much time off from my work, Mr Morton,’ she replied, trying to recover quickly from the shock of his inviting her out.

  ‘I’m sure Nellie would give you an evening off if you asked her,’ he pursued.

  ‘I doubt it. The saloon is extremely busy just now,’ Poppy said with a sad look.

  ‘I understand, but I have to say I’m very disappointed. I was hoping to have the pleasure of your company, but I see I will have to eat alone – again.’ Ezra was pushing harder now for he desperately wanted her accept his invitation.

  ‘I suppose I could ask – but I can’t promise anything,’ Poppy relented.

  ‘Excellent! You can get word to me at the brewery. There’s always an urchin ready to earn a copper, which I will pay for of course. Thank you, Miss Charlton, you’ve made me a very happy man.’ Ezra silently congratulated himself as he bundled Poppy and her full basket into a cab. Kissing her hand, he then paid the driver to take the lady home.

  Ezra Morton had a spring in his step as he walked back to the brewery. The smile stretched across his face as he thought about the evening he felt sure he would be soon spending with Poppy Charlton.

  Nellie would be furious about Poppy agreeing to step out with him which pleased him immensely. It would most likely cause an enormous row between the two women and could possibly lead to Poppy quitting her job and walking out. In turn it would mean Nellie would lose a good barmaid and he would be held responsible. Then, when he’d had his fun with the girl, he would send her packing. Would Nellie take her back? A young girl used and tossed aside, one who would be unable to find a husband after he had finished with her. Could he do that to Poppy? Ezra grinned, knowing full well he could.

  Poppy alighted from the cab outside the saloon and thanked the driver before stepping inside. She was excited at the prospect of having dinner with a notorious man like Ezra, but she was also worried about what Nellie would say. She was certain Nancy and Nellie would warn her off the man yet again, but Poppy felt it was time now to make her own decisions. She was eighteen years old after all and a lot of girls her age were already married with children of their own.

  Unpacking the shopping in the kitchen, Poppy didn’t hear the banter between Jack and Dolly – her mind was on Ezra Morton and what he could do for her. He could take her from the back-breaking work at the saloon; maybe he would set her up in her own little house somewhere. He might even propose marriage and then she wouldn’t want for anything if she became Mrs Morton.

  Making tea without thought for what she was doing, Poppy then considered the other side of the coin. Nellie Larkin had taken her in off the street when she was starving. She had been given a job and a place to live and drawn into the small family unit without question. Could she go against Nellie’s advice which would surely hurt the woman who was like a mother to her? Could she risk the possibility she would be alienated by the others just to have an evening out with Ezra?

  Then again, it would just be the theatre and dinner.

  All she could do was ask Nellie for the night off. She didn’t have to say why, or where she was going, or who with. Poppy made her decision – she would make her request at the end of the night when the saloon had closed up.

  At midnight, everyone sat around the kitchen table supping tea. Matthew and Noah Dempster joined them before taking up their night guard work.

  ‘Nellie, I’d like an evening off,’ Poppy said in a rush before her confidence left her. She had deliberately asked in front of everyone in the hope they would support her request and so make it more difficult for Nellie to refuse.

  ‘What for?’ Nellie asked with a tired sigh.

  ‘I want to get out of that bar for a few hours. I’m sick of seeing the same gin-sodden faces and hearing the same old drunken songs – I need a break,’ Poppy answered, ignoring everyone watching the exchange.

  ‘Poppy, I understand, but we’re so busy right now, I ain’t sure I can spare you—’ Nellie began.

  ‘I’m entitled to a night off – even if it’s only once a year!’

  Nellie stared at the young woman, wondering what had sparked the outburst.

  Poppy raged on. ‘I never go anywhere – like the music hall or theatre! As much as I love your cooking, Nancy, it would be nice to eat out on occasion!’

  Suddenly Nellie knew – Poppy had been invited out by a young man. With a smile she asked, ‘Do we know him?’

  ‘Who?’ Poppy asked.

  ‘The young fella who’s asked you out,’ Nellie qualified.

  ‘Bloody hell! It’s like the Spanish Inquisition here! It’s my business, Nellie, and I shouldn’t have to share it with all and sundry!’

  Nellie’s face fell. ‘Oh, Poppy – please tell me it ain’t who I think it is.’

  ‘I can go out with whoever I want, Nellie, I’m old enough now.’ Poppy stood her ground.

  ‘Yes, you are, Poppy, but – Ezra Morton? For God’s sake have you forgotten what we told you?!’ Nellie was exasperated.

  ‘It’s all lies, Nellie, he told me so!’ Poppy’s bravado began to crumble as she spoke.

  ‘When did you speak to him?’ Nellie demanded to know.

  ‘In the market today,’ Poppy answered.

  Nellie dragged her hands down her face and sighed audibly. ‘I can see you’re determined so I’ll say this. Go out with him if you must, but be careful. Just know, if it goes wrong, we’ll all be her
e for you.’

  ‘Oh, thank you, Nellie!’ Poppy said, giving the woman a hug. Then she said her goodnights and skipped off to her bed.

  ‘Nell, I’m worried for her,’ Nancy said.

  ‘So am I, Nance,’ Nellie concurred.

  ‘Nellie, can I make a suggestion?’ Noah Dempster asked, his blue eyes twinkling in the gas light.

  ‘Yes, lad, go ahead,’ Nellie said.

  ‘One of us,’ he jerked his thumb between himself and his brother, ‘could follow Poppy – discreetly of course.’

  ‘I could do that!’ Fred said sharply, feeling a little pushed out.

  ‘No disrespect, big man, but with your size you’d be spotted right away,’ Noah replied.

  ‘Besides, Ezra knows you,’ Nancy said, laying a hand on his arm.

  ‘Oh, yeah,’ Fred said with a little grin.

  ‘I don’t know…’ Nellie began.

  ‘Have a think about it and let us know,’ Noah said, ‘for now we have a job to do. Come on, brother – time to check doors and windows.’

  They left Nellie pondering the suggestion as they ensured the building was locked up tight.

  23

  Ezra Morton was in a good mood having sent a note via the string of urchins to Poppy arranging to meet her later. Sitting in his office sipping his morning tea, he was looking forward to her reply.

  After a quick knock, the door opened and one of Ezra’s men strode in. ‘There’s nothing to be found on Nellie Larkin, boss.’

  Ezra frowned. ‘Nothing?’

  The man shook his head.

  ‘What about a husband?’ Ezra asked.

  ‘No sign of one. Maybe he was sent to the Crimea and died there,’ the man suggested.

  ‘Maybe, but where was he before that?’

  ‘Nobody knows, boss.’

  ‘Nellie has a lad – ten years old – no husband that can be found…’ Ezra paused, running a thumb nail over his bottom lip as he thought out loud. ‘It’s all very suspect if you ask me.’

  ‘Yes, boss,’ the man said, then at the flick of Ezra’s fingers, he turned and left the office quietly.

  Thinking over what he knew about Nellie, Ezra was puzzled. Left the pub by her parents, she and Nancy – a widow of many years – began the restoration of the place with money borrowed from him. Nellie quite suddenly pays off her loan so – where did the money come from? She takes in waifs and strays, as well as the unemployed, and he thought of Fred. She has no husband but has a son. How old was Nellie? Whatever her age she must have had that boy late in life.

  With a frustrated sigh, Ezra determined he would quiz Poppy later to see what else he could learn about the enigmatic Nellie Larkin.

  Over at The Crown Saloon, Fred was re-arranging the cellar in readiness for the next delivery of gin. Poppy and Dolly were working the bar with help from Jack, and Nellie was having a conversation with Nancy in the kitchen.

  ‘I’m going to ask one of the Dempster boys to follow Poppy,’ Nellie said.

  ‘Thank Christ for that! It’s a good idea, Nell,’ Nancy concurred.

  ‘Bloody Ezra Morton! That man will be the death of me!’ Nellie rasped through her teeth.

  ‘I’m worried for Poppy – she’s so innocent. Pound to a penny he’ll turn her head; she’ll fall for him, Nell, and then God knows what will happen!’ Nancy was twisting her apron in her fingers, and her eyes held fear.

  ‘I know, Nance, but I don’t know what we can do about it. She says he’s taking her out tonight and she’s very excited about it,’ Nellie said, finishing with a long drawn out sigh.

  ‘Of all the men in the world – it had to be him!’ Nancy snapped as she threw her apron away from her.

  It was then that Jack joined them saying, ‘I just found out – it’s Dolly’s birthday on Friday, she’ll be fourteen!’

  ‘So I take it we should have a little celebration?’ Nellie asked with a smile.

  ‘Can we? I wish I could buy her a present,’ Jack said dreamily.

  Nellie reached into the table drawer and drew out three pounds and passed it to Nancy. ‘Get some bits and pieces – and will you bake her a cake?’

  Nancy nodded as she took the money.

  ‘Give Jack five bob so he can get her a gift.’

  ‘Ooh ta, Mum, I thought I’d get her a book,’ Jack enthused.

  Nellie nodded. ‘Nance, see if you can get her a coat – from all of us – cos winter will be here in no time.’ Turning to Jack she said, ‘You go with Nance and I’ll tend the bar. Let’s keep all this a secret from Dolly until Friday.’

  Jack gave a whoop and headed for the back door.

  The weather was sunny but the autumn chill managed to wrap itself around Jack and Nancy as they walked briskly to the market. The sun glinted off the morning dew which layered the cobblestones in the road, giving them a glassy sheen, and the brightness made Jack squint. The air was damp and seemed to force itself through their clothes, making them shiver. In the Old Square a brazier was burning and was surrounded by men warming their hands. These were the unfortunates – the ones with no jobs, and every day, come rain or shine they stood waiting for someone to give them an opportunity to earn a wage. It was known as the bread line and these queues of men could be seen on street corners everywhere – such was the poverty in certain areas of the town.

  With his five shillings in his hand, Jack sped off after arranging to meet Nancy later, back at the entrance. With that much money he could buy Dolly lots of books and he knew just what she’d like.

  The market was set out in rows with small aisles between them and Jack’s eyes darted this way and that as he hurried along. As he went, he heard the calls of the vendors over the hubbub of shoppers. There was a smell of flowers as he passed a stall full of colourful blooms, which was replaced by the odour of fresh fish further along.

  Jack halted to listen to the banter taking place between a man selling meat and a woman in the crowd.

  ‘A pound of sausages and I ain’t even asking a quid,’ the man shouted as he laid them on a huge set of scales.

  ‘I should bloody think not!’ the woman yelled back.

  ‘Indeed, missus. Add to that a pound of bacon.’

  ‘Still daylight robbery!’ the woman heckled again.

  ‘Ar, but what if I slapped a bit o’steak on the top, eh? That would be worth a quid of anyone’s money,’ the butcher said.

  ‘Stop clarting about and give us a price for yer trotters,’ the woman called.

  ‘Me trotters are me own, but I do have some pigs’ for you right ’ere.’ A ripple of laughter ran through the throng of women standing waiting in the hope of a bargain, and Jack smiled before he set off in search of a book stall.

  Further down he heard gasps from another crowd gathered and he stopped to investigate. A man was catching dinner plates thrown by his assistant and laying them along his outstretched arm. Tea plates came next, followed by saucers, and the man swung his arm for all to see. Tilting his hand down, the crockery slid into a neat pile which he laid down on the stall. Cups came sailing over which he deftly caught, building them into a tall stack which he deliberately wobbled before placing them down.

  Jack grinned at the vendor’s antics and tore himself away from the amusing spectacle.

  At last he found what he was looking for, a stall covered with books. Now he could take his time, he wanted to get just the right thing to please Dolly.

  Nancy raked through the clothes on the stalls searching for a coat for Dolly, but there was nothing that was nearly good enough.

  ‘Don’t maul the goods if’n you ain’t gonna buy!’ the vendor shouted.

  ‘Goods! This is a load o’rubbish!’ Nancy yelled back and nodded as others around her mumbled their agreement.

  ‘I d’aint ask you to come and shop on my stall!’ the woman said.

  ‘No, and I won’t be coming no more! That ain’t no way to treat perspective customers!’ Nancy retaliated.

  Few realised the word she should
have used was prospective but they kept their counsel as they watched the contretemps continue.

  ‘I can do without customers like you and that’s a fact!’

  ‘Well, you’ll bloody well have to now, won’t yer? I’ll tell you summat else an’ all – I’m gonna let everybody know what a nasty bugger you am! I’ll mek sure the market inspector ‘ears about this as well, you mark my words!’ Nancy harrumphed and turned to face the crowd. ‘If you’ll ’scuse me I have money to spend elsewhere.’

  Remembering there was a little shop close by, she strode away to investigate what was on offer. The shop was a front room affair, run by the woman who lived there.

  Nancy stood staring at the window display. A red woollen coat with an attached shoulder cape was on show. The collar, buttons and cuffs were black and a wide brimmed hat accompanied it.

  Stepping inside, Nancy asked to see the item which had captivated her. The woman reached it from the window and Nancy felt the quality between her fingers. Good and thick, she knew it would fit Dolly a treat. She had a surprise when the woman lifted the short shoulder cape and fastened it at the front with a button so it acted as a muffler.

  ‘How much?’ Nancy asked.

  ‘Two pounds, ten shillings,’ the woman replied.

  Nancy blanched. ‘Blimey! It would have to be med of gold for that much!’

  ‘It’s worth it,’ the woman said.

  ‘Ar well, you’d have to say that to get the sale,’ Nancy replied. The woman made to put the coat back in the window but stopped when Nancy spoke again. ‘I’ll take it!’

  The woman smiled warmly and folding the coat carefully she placed it in a box which she tied with string. Finding a small round box, she packed the hat.

  Nancy left the shop feeling very pleased with her purchase. Now all she had to do was tell Nellie how much she’d paid and hope she didn’t get her head bitten off.

  Striding back to the market, Nancy saw Jack waiting for her and he was carrying a pile of books, also tied together with string.