The Children from Gin Barrel Lane

by Lindsey Hutchinson

As they walked home, Jack and Nancy excitedly planned Dolly’s surprise birthday party.

  Whilst Jack and Nancy’s shopping spree was underway, Elizabeth Murray had decided to visit her mother. She was dressed in a long navy blue coat and matching silk organza hat adorned with feathers, an umbrella and leather gloves completed the ensemble.

  ‘I wondered how long it would be before you came back,’ Sylvia Chilton said.

  ‘You don’t have to be so churlish, Mother,’ Elizabeth returned.

  ‘Elizabeth, I’m treating you in the same manner that you treat me.’

  ‘Well, I’m here now.’

  ‘You are indeed. What do you want, Elizabeth?’

  ‘I don’t want anything, Mother! I merely came to see how you are!’ Dropping into a chair, Elizabeth snatched at the hat pin and removed her large feathered hat.

  ‘Shall I make tea?’ she asked.

  ‘Later – when my visitor arrives,’ Sylvia said, bracing herself for her daughter’s reaction.

  ‘So, he’s still calling, is he – Gabriel Short?’ Elizabeth asked with a scowl.

  ‘He is.’

  ‘Mother—’

  ‘Don’t, Elizabeth! Please let’s not go into this again.’ Sylvia really didn’t want to argue further with her daughter on the matter.

  Elizabeth sighed audibly and rolled her eyes as the knocker rapped.

  Sylvia smiled and went to answer the door. A moment later she was back with Gabriel in tow.

  ‘Mrs Murray, so nice to see you again,’ he lied.

  ‘Mr Short, still visiting, I see,’ Elizabeth responded sharply.

  ‘Take a seat, Gabriel, whilst I make tea,’ Sylvia simpered.

  Complying with her request, Arthur felt uncomfortable under Elizabeth’s glare.

  ‘I know what you’re up to, Mr Short,’ she said, leaning forward in her chair.

  ‘I’m sure I don’t know what you are referring to,’ he said amiably.

  ‘Please don’t treat me like an idiot! You are trying to inveigle your way into my mother’s affections in order to get your grubby hands on her money!’

  ‘Mrs Murray! You do me an injustice! Your mother and I – we are friends.’ Arthur’s discomfort increased with every passing moment.

  ‘Friends!’ Elizabeth spat. ‘You expect me to believe that? Well, I don’t, Mr Short, and I warn you now, I will expose you one way or another!’

  ‘Here we are,’ Sylvia cooed as she carried in the tea tray.

  Arthur got to his feet and relieved her of her burden.

  ‘Thank you, dear,’ Sylvia gushed as she retook her seat.

  ‘For goodness’ sake,’ Elizabeth muttered under her breath and rolled her eyes again, not even trying to hide her disgust. Accepting the cup and saucer from her mother, she sat listening to the conversation taking place. There was no effort made to draw her into the discussions and Elizabeth began to feel like a third wheel.

  Sylvia was explaining that the carriage works was running smoothly under the keen eye of the foreman, and Arthur was nodding in all the right places.

  ‘I must be going, Mother, but I will visit again next week,’ Elizabeth interrupted rudely.

  ‘All right, dear,’ Sylvia said as she watched her daughter don her hat.

  Ignoring Arthur completely, Elizabeth left them to it.

  Walking to the end of the street she waited. Gabriel Short would emerge before too long, and when he did, she would follow to see where he would lead.

  An hour later, Elizabeth was tired and frustrated. The cold nipped her fingertips even through her gloves, and she rolled her toes inside her boots to try to increase the blood flow and warm them. Then at last she saw him – smiling and waving as he left the house.

  Strolling along, she kept him in her sight. Fortunately, the streets were busy and she was able to hide herself in the crowd. Following him along Sherlock Street, Elizabeth held a handkerchief to her nose as she passed the slaughterhouse and meat market. The smell wafted on the air and she increased her step, wanting to be away from it as soon as possible. On they went around the Bull Ring, past the statue of Nelson and down Bell Street before her quarry turned into the extensive market hall. Slowly and carefully, Elizabeth tailed Gabriel and by the afternoon she knew far more about him.

  Leaving the market the same way she had entered, Elizabeth looked both ways for a cab. Raising her rolled umbrella she waved it to attract the cabbie’s attention. Tipping his hat in reply he flipped the reins and the horse walked on. As the carriage drew to a halt, she climbed aboard, calling out the address before closing the door. Elizabeth was going home; she had a lot to think about.

  For his part, Arthur had left Sylvia and he concluded that the whole situation was becoming tiresome. Making his way to the market, he wondered again if the widow Chilton was worth the time he was spending on her.

  Despite still being dressed in his good clothes, he needed to replenish his coffers, so he decided a little thievery would rectify that particular problem. It would also make him feel better. He had made the decision previously to stay away from this particular area, but the danger of being caught was pumping adrenaline around his body as he wove his way between the market stalls.

  Having lifted a few wallets and purses, Arthur emptied and dropped them before striding out for home. He had no idea that whilst he was stealing from those less fortunate, he was being watched closely. So intent was he on keeping an eye out for the police, he did not notice Elizabeth Murray shadowing his every step.

  24

  The autumn chill began to take hold and the leaves on the few trees dotted about turned to gold and copper. The weak sunshine held no warmth and folk donned thicker clothing as they went about their business. Winds picked up debris lying on the streets and blew it into piles. More household fires were lit and the smoke plumed from chimneys all over the town. The rain was cold as it pattered down from the heavens, soaking everyone to the skin.

  In the cellar of The Crown, Jack and Dolly were busy filling bottles with diluted gin when Jack suddenly asked, ‘Do you miss your mum?’

  ‘Yes. Every day,’ Dolly replied sadly.

  Jack nodded.

  ‘What is it, Jack?’

  ‘I’m still confused about my parents,’ he admitted after a short silence.

  ‘I can understand that,’ Dolly whispered.

  ‘I keep wondering who they are. Why did they give me up like they did? Are they still alive? What sort of person dumps a baby on a doorstep and walks away?’ Jack shook his head in disbelief.

  ‘Lots of questions and no answers.’ Dolly gave him a sympathetic smile. ‘Have you thought about this in a more methodical way?’

  ‘How do you mean?’ Jack frowned as he passed her a half-full bottle.

  ‘Well, taking it from the beginning, your mum had you. Now, was she married or not? Was she too poor to be able to keep you? Also, and I’m sorry to say this, Jack, but were you what is considered an accident?’ Dolly paused, allowing the boy to digest her words. ‘Going a step further, why did she choose to leave you on Nellie’s doorstep? Did she know Nellie or Nancy?’

  ‘Blimey! I never thought of that!’ Jack said on a breath.

  ‘It doesn’t necessarily follow that Nellie or Nancy would know your mum though,’ Dolly added.

  ‘I s’pose.’ Jack’s sudden excitement at possibly having a lead to his parentage dissipated in a cloud of disappointment.

  ‘On the bright side though, your mum didn’t leave you at the workhouse or the orphanage.’ Dolly was trying to lift the boy’s spirits after she saw his body sag.

  ‘You’ve got a birth certificate, ain’t you?’ Jack asked and when Dolly nodded, he went on, ‘I wonder if I ever had one.’

  ‘Possibly not, but it would depend on your mum’s circumstances.’ Dolly bit her bottom lip, not at all sure she was helping.

  ‘I’ve tried not to think about it all, Dolly, but it won’t leave me alone!’

  ‘It’s the not knowing that’s
the worst I’m sure, but it might be that one day you’ll find out.’

  ‘Until then I’m left wondering,’ Jack said sadly.

  ‘Jack, look at the other side of it more a moment. You were found and taken in by Nellie. For your whole life she brought you up as her own. She fed you, taught you and kept you safe. You have a home and family who love you.’

  ‘You make it sound like I landed on my feet,’ Jack said, passing over another bottle.

  ‘You did. Considering what could have happened, you are very lucky,’ Dolly replied with a warm smile.

  ‘Like you, Poppy and Fred,’ Jack said.

  ‘Yes, and Matthew and Noah Dempster – Nellie has brought us all into the fold rather than turning us away,’ Dolly added.

  ‘We’re all in the same boat then.’ Jack gave her a small grin.

  ‘Yes, maybe that’s why we are like a big family.’

  ‘Speaking of Poppy, what do you make of her stepping out with Ezra Morton?’ Jack asked.

  ‘I’m worried for her, I just hope—’

  ‘She’s got her head screwed on,’ Jack interrupted.

  ‘I know that, Jack, but love knows no bounds,’ Dolly said on a sigh.

  The bottle filling continued in silence as both got lost in their thoughts.

  It was then that Fred, who had heard their conversation as he smoked a cigarette by the outside door to the cellar, walked quietly into the kitchen.

  ‘Cup of tea, Fred?’ Nancy asked.

  ‘Hmm,’ came the reply.

  ‘Summat on yer mind?’ Nancy probed as she passed over the cup and saucer.

  Fred related the exchange he’d overheard between Jack and Dolly.

  ‘The poor little bugger doesn’t know if he’s coming or going. I always said Nellie should have told him long before now. I wonder if he’ll ever come to terms with it.’ Nancy said as she settled herself on a kitchen chair. ‘It’s Poppy I’m worried about now though.’

  Fred nodded. ‘I don’t like it, Nancy, she shouldn’t be seeing someone like Ezra.’

  ‘Are you sweet on her, Frederick Dell?’ Nancy asked with a teasing grin.

  ‘No! Don’t get me wrong, she’s a nice girl but not for me – or Ezra either. He’ll use her, Nancy, then toss her away.’

  ‘I said the same, but she’s a grown woman now and can make up her own mind, I suppose.’ Nancy sipped her tea silently, wishing Poppy would tell Ezra to clear off and leave her alone, but knowing in her heart it wouldn’t happen.

  Fred watched her from the corner of his eye and he flushed as her eyes met his.

  ‘One of the Dempsters is going to follow her and make sure she gets home safely.’ Nancy said at last. She smiled as she saw Fred relax a little. He was clearly glad Nellie had agreed to Noah’s suggestion, now he wouldn’t have to worry.

  A screech from the bar had them both look at each other.

  ‘Sounds like you’re needed,’ Nancy laughed.

  Fred nodded and got to his feet. Giving her a wink, he marched towards the door.

  Nancy blushed and laid a hand on her chest in an effort to slow her fast beating heart. It had been a while now since she realised she had feelings for this big man, and she had hoped they might be reciprocated. Was that wink a confirmation of her dream of a budding relationship? Her stomach gave a little flip as she returned to her work.

  In the bar Fred looked to Nellie, then followed the tilt of her head. Two women were screaming obscenities and beating a man with their fists while he giggled as he relieved himself in the corner.

  ‘Hey, fella,’ Fred boomed, seeing the man now fastening his trouser buttons. In an instant Fred was at his side and tore the shirt from the man’s back, then used it to mop up the mess. Cheers sounded when he slammed the soggy shirt into the man’s chest and marched him from the premises. Then he fetched a bucket of water loaded with soda crystals and a mop. Satisfied the area was clean, Fred left the bar to deafening applause.

  ‘My God! If he can do that in here, what must his home be like?’ Poppy yelled over the noise.

  ‘I dread to think,’ Nellie shouted back. ‘What time you out tonight?’

  ‘Seven,’ Poppy answered with an excited look in her eye.

  ‘Best go and get ready then,’ Nellie said, ‘I’ll get Jack to lend a hand here.’

  Poppy ran lightly from the bar to wash and change. She had replied to Ezra’s note accepting the invitation earlier in the day.

  Nellie called for Jack and as he came through, she said, ‘Fetch the Dempsters down then tend the bar with Dolly while I have a word.’

  Twenty minutes later, it was agreed Noah Dempster would track Poppy that evening and Matthew would stand the usual guard duty.

  ‘I’m sorry I have to ask you, Noah, because it all feels so – sneaky,’ Nellie said.

  ‘Better that than… She’ll be fine, Nellie, I’ll look out for her. Any sign of trouble and I’ll whisk her away and bring her home.’ Blue eyes twinkled in a reassuring smile.

  ‘Ta, lad, you’ll have a bonus apiece come the end of the week,’ Nellie said with a nod.

  At seven on the dot, Ezra Morton entered The Crown Saloon dressed in his best suit; top hat and walking cane in hand. Threading his way through the throng, he tapped the silver knob on the counter.

  Nellie glanced at him then continued with her work.

  Ezra smiled. She’s trying to ignore me, he thought. Just then Poppy came through dressed in a bottle green velvet dress that fit where it touched. It was something she’d found on a market stall and had bought it with a few coppers borrowed from Nellie. The bodice was in a cross-over style which gave a deep neckline which was not too revealing, and it was nipped in at the waist. The skirt fell straight at the front to her black boots. At the back it was gathered into gentle ruffles which lay over a small bustle. Her blonde hair was piled high in curls and fastened with a feathered comb. Long black gloves covered her arms and over one of which she carried a black woollen cloak.

  Oohs and ahhs sounded as Ezra took the wrap and draped it around her shoulders. Then hooking an arm, he led her out into the street where a cab waited.

  Noah Dempster leaned against the wall of The Castle pub directly across the street having a smoke, his cap pulled down low over his brow. The couple didn’t see him as they climbed aboard the carriage.

  Hearing the address called to the cabbie, Noah waited for them to leave then he whistled for a cab of his own. Directing the driver to follow, Noah waited to see where they would end up. Before long Ezra’s cab halted in Lower Priory and the couple alighted then stepped into a hotel across from the Grand Theatre. Noah, who had paid his cabbie handsomely, waited patiently inside the carriage now standing on the corner of the crossroads between Lower Priory and Dalton Street.

  Poppy was breathlessly excited by being treated like a princess. ‘I’ve never been to a hotel before,’ she whispered as Ezra removed her cloak, passing it to an attendant.

  ‘You should eat in places like this every day of your life, Poppy,’ Ezra smiled.

  ‘Not much chance of that,’ she replied as he cupped her elbow and led her to the dining room.

  ‘Ah, Mr Morton, so nice to see you again. Good evening, Miss,’ the Maître d’ said with a slight bow to Poppy. ‘Your table is all ready for you, sir.’ Snapping his fingers, he beckoned to a waiter. ‘Show Mr Morton and his guest to their table.’

  Poppy stared at all the cutlery and glassware as Ezra pulled out a chair for her.

  Once they were both seated, the waiter poured them each a glass of water.

  Poppy glanced up at him, a worried look in her eye. She had no idea about such hifalutin table etiquette, and a flick of the eyebrows told her he understood her concern.

  ‘Would sir care to see the wine list?’ the waiter asked as he tapped a white gloved finger against a wine glass. He smiled at Poppy, endeavouring to help her surreptitiously.

  ‘Yes please,’ Ezra said.

  Poppy nodded and smiled at the young man f
or being so helpful.

  In a matter of moments wine was ordered and the menus presented.

  ‘Goodness, such a lot to choose from,’ Poppy said, ‘how much does it cost?’

  The young wine waiter was at that moment uncorking the wine at their table when Ezra replied from behind his menu.

  ‘My dear girl, top class hotels do not display their charges. It’s tantamount to discussing money – it’s vulgar.’

  Poppy flushed scarlet with embarrassment but couldn’t help but give a small smile when she caught the waiter pulling a face behind Ezra’s back. Quickly she covered her mouth with her hand.

  Pouring a small amount, he said, ‘Your wine, sir.’

  Ezra tasted it and then nodded.

  The waiter skirted the table to serve Poppy first, then topped up Ezra’s glass. Standing the wine in its cooler on the table, he grinned at the pretty girl before walking away.

  Poppy squirmed in her seat as she stared at the French words she could not read. Her eyes roamed over the list as she tried desperately to pick out words she might know, but failing in the attempt made her heart sink.

  Glancing around the room she began to wish she hadn’t come. She felt so out of her depth she wanted to cry.

  ‘Have you decided, m’dear?’ Ezra asked, lowering his menu to peep over the top.

  ‘Erm, no not yet,’ Poppy said with a croak.

  ‘What do you like – meat, fish?’ Ezra pursued.

  ‘Either,’ Poppy answered in a whisper.

  Poppy glanced around the room again before her eyes alighted on the wine waiter chatting to a colleague who looked her way. They were discussing her! Were they laughing at her? The food waiter nodded and gave her a beaming smile. What was going on between those two?

  She quickly found out as the waiter stepped smartly to the table.

  ‘She hasn’t made up her mind yet,’ Ezra said curtly.

  ‘If I may be so bold – could I help the lady to decide?’ the waiter asked.

  ‘Please do, I’m famished!’ Ezra’s attention returned to his own menu.

  ‘The Dover sole with its lemon sauce is particularly good here, madam.’ The waiter pointed to the entries on her menu card as he spoke. ‘Or perhaps you might prefer venison in red wine gravy, with potatoes and vegetables.’