The Children from Gin Barrel Lane

by Lindsey Hutchinson

  Poppy said quickly, ‘I like the sound of the sole.’

  ‘Very good, and would madam like a starter?’

  Closing her eyes tight she sucked in a breath.

  ‘I could recommend the pâté, it comes from Brussels,’ the waiter said quietly.

  ‘That sounds lovely, thank you,’ Poppy smiled her thanks with pure relief.

  Turning to Ezra the waiter asked, ‘And for sir?’

  ‘Prawns then venison,’ Ezra snapped, handing the menu into the waiter’s outstretched hand.

  ‘It’s posh here,’ Poppy said as the waiter left their table.

  ‘It’s not bad,’ Ezra replied.

  They didn’t have to wait long for their starter to arrive and the waiter picked up Poppy’s cutlery and gave it a quick wipe on a spotlessly clean cloth, indicating which she should use, before replacing it on the table.

  Poppy nodded her thanks and cast a smile to the wine waiter standing by the doorway. They had not been laughing at her at all. They had guessed she was struggling with the menu and cutlery order and were in cahoots in trying to give her little clues which only she would see. Poppy was immensely grateful.

  ‘Nellie was gracious enough to let you out then,’ Ezra said sarcastically.

  ‘She was kind enough to give me the night off, yes.’ Poppy’s words were sharp as she eyed the man sat opposite her.

  ‘I’m so sorry, m’dear, that was rude of me,’ Ezra said as he picked up on her pique.

  ‘Nellie is a lovely lady – she took me in when I had nowhere else to go,’ Poppy said quietly.

  ‘I understand, please forgive me.’ Ezra said insincerely between bites.

  Having finished their starters, the waiter appeared and lifted her plate from the table before rearranging the knife and fork to be used with the main course. Another subtle sign.

  ‘Thank you,’ Poppy told him with a smile.

  ‘You don’t have to thank him, that’s what he’s paid for,’ Ezra said, then drawing her attention back to himself, went on, ‘tell me, Poppy, why do you work at that saloon?’

  Poppy felt the waiter glance at her before removing Ezra’s plate, and again her face burned with humiliation.

  ‘It’s a perfectly decent place, Ezra, and it’s a good job albeit being hard on the feet.’

  Ezra detected the note of protective loyalty in her voice. ‘What I meant was, you shouldn’t be working at all. You should be a lady of leisure, taken care of and spoiled.’

  Sipping his wine, he realised he had been yelling orders at his men for so long, he had quite forgotten how to speak to a woman.

  ‘I would be bored to tears without my work,’ Poppy said with a little laugh.

  ‘I see Nellie has found a new supplier,’ Ezra said pointedly.

  ‘Yes.’

  Ezra watched as a warm plate filled with hot food was placed in front of her and then himself. ‘Care to tell me who it is?’

  ‘Care to mind your own business?’ Poppy flashed back. She saw the waiter grin and flick his eyebrows.

  Ezra laughed but it sounded hollow even to his ears. ‘Can I ask where Nellie’s husband is?’

  ‘I’m afraid you will have to ask her about that,’ Poppy answered firmly.

  ‘I hear Fred is working for Nellie now,’ Ezra said.

  Poppy ignored the statement and continued to eat.

  Ezra looked up from his plate saying, ‘Well, is he?’

  Clamping her teeth together, Poppy nodded. She had expected Ezra to try to seduce her on their evening out together and she had been prepared to repel boarders. If this was his idea of wooing then he was failing miserably. Where was the discreet touching of fingers? There were no long lingering looks or words of endearment. She felt like she was being pumped for information about Nellie and the dinner was her reward. She could feel the waiters’ eyes on her, knowing they were aware she was not enjoying herself one bit. They consulted each other quietly each time Ezra spoke and Poppy concluded that they could hear every word.

  ‘Nellie’s lad should be in school, not working in that fleapit!’ Ezra snapped, annoyed that he was getting nowhere. He had been sure Poppy was so enamoured of him she would tell him all he wanted to know, but she appeared to have other ideas. He pursued his line of questioning with mounting frustration.

  ‘It’s not a fleapit! It’s my place of work and my home!’ Poppy fired back. In her peripheral vision she saw the waiters nod their agreement with a grin.

  ‘Yes, well, you couldn’t do much worse,’ Ezra said unthinkingly as he slurped his wine. ‘It seems to me that Nellie takes in waifs and strays off the street.’

  The waiter had stepped up to refill his glass just then and his mouth formed a small ‘O’ in disgust. Walking around the table with the wine bottle, he waited for Poppy to accept or refuse another drink.

  ‘You’re right. She took me in off the street and I’m very grateful to her!’ Poppy’s wrath flushed her cheeks.

  ‘I didn’t mean—’ Ezra began.

  ‘Yes, you did. I was in the workhouse, Ezra, and when I signed myself out at fifteen years old I lived on the streets until Nellie found me!’ Poppy’s voice was even as she spoke but her eyes glared a black anger.

  Ezra glanced at the waiter who coughed politely.

  Dragging her smouldering eyes away from Ezra, Poppy looked up and smiled at the young man proffering the wine bottle.

  ‘Thank you, no more for me,’ she said, calmly covering her glass with a gloved hand.

  Inclining his head, the waiter moved away, a smirk etching his face.

  With each passing moment, Poppy was feeling more disillusioned. All day she had looked forward to her evening with Ezra and now she was beginning to see why he’d asked her out. He was quizzing her about Nellie and her business. He wasn’t interested in her at all, just the information she could give him.

  Suddenly her appetite deserted her and she pushed the food around on the plate before laying her cutlery down.

  ‘Not hungry?’ Ezra asked.

  ‘I’ve had enough,’ she answered.

  Ezra continued to eat and Poppy glanced around the room at all the people talking and laughing. She was hurt and angry and she wanted to go home.

  She watched Ezra finish his food, dab his mouth with a napkin, then sip his wine. Flipping a fob watch from his waistcoat pocket he checked the time.

  ‘We should be going soon otherwise we’ll miss the first performances at the theatre,’ he said. Raising a hand, he snapped his fingers.

  The waiter moved forward in response.

  ‘The bill,’ Ezra ordered.

  ‘Certainly, sir,’ the waiter said and hurried away.

  The Maître d’ attended to the matter while the waiter helped Poppy from her chair. She jerked her head round as she felt something pushed into her hand. It was a small piece of paper.

  Glancing at the paper she glimpsed the words Bellyache for him tomorrow! and hurriedly pushed it into her glove as she pulled it higher up her arm, desperately trying to hold back her mirth. Clearly disgruntled by the way Ezra was treating her, they had somehow arranged to have his food tainted with something to give him an upset tummy.

  Adjusting her other glove, she looked up at the waiter standing by the door. Grabbing the seat of his trousers he pretended to run. Covering her mouth daintily with her hand, Poppy stifled a laugh.

  Walking towards the pair who had given her a smile or two she stopped. ‘Thank you, gentlemen,’ she said with a huge grin. Then she turned to Ezra and waited.

  ‘What? Oh yes, of course,’ he mumbled as he drew some coins from his pocket to tip the waiting staff.

  ‘I think I’d like to return home now, Ezra, I have a blinding headache,’ she said.

  ‘As you wish, my dear,’ he answered. The evening had not gone as planned, but it would be better next time, he thought. It might be that on the next occasion, Poppy would answer his questions, in which case he would take her to see his home and show her how and where she c
ould be living, albeit temporarily, if she played her cards right.

  Outside, Noah saw them leave the hotel. They climbed into a cab and set off. Noah banged his feet twice and felt the carriage lurch into motion.

  When they stopped again he was surprised to find they were back at The Crown. Seeing Poppy go inside, Noah watched to ensure Ezra left, then thanking his cabbie, he too went indoors.

  25

  Friday morning rolled around and Jack was excited. It was Dolly’s birthday; today she turned fourteen. He sat at the kitchen table impatiently, waiting for his friend to rise from her bed.

  ‘Anybody would think it’s your birthday the way you’re bouncing around,’ Nancy said with a humorous smile.

  ‘I wish she’d hurry up, I’m dying to see her face when I give her this,’ Jack said as he tapped the books he’d wrapped in brown paper begged from the butcher in the market.

  ‘She’ll love them, lad, don’t you worry, now for God’s sake sit still, you look like you’ve got St Vitus’ dance!’ Nancy responded. ‘I’ll be able to make a start on her cake once you lot are out the way.’

  Jack nodded, then his eyes returned to the doorway.

  ‘A watched kettle…’ Nancy began but at that moment Dolly entered the kitchen.

  Grabbing the package, Jack jumped to his feet and rushed around the table. ‘Happy birthday, Dolly!’ he said as he thrust the parcel into her hands.

  ‘Thank you!’ Dolly breathed, overjoyed Jack had remembered.

  One by one the others wished her many happy returns as she sat to open her gift. ‘Oh Jack! Thank you, these are beautiful!’ Dolly stroked the atlas and the books containing stories of myths and legends.

  ‘I’m glad you like them, I picked ’em special like,’ the boy said with a blush.

  ‘Just what I would have chosen for myself. I love them!’ Dolly replied.

  Nellie passed a box across the table. ‘This is from all of us,’ she said.

  Dolly was aghast as she lifted the red coat from its resting place. ‘Oh my! Oh… it’s… Nellie – everyone, thank you!’ Dolly stood and slipped the coat on to show how well it fitted.

  ‘There’s this an’ all,’ Nancy said, sliding the round box towards her.

  ‘Nancy – a hat! I’ve never had a hat such as this before! Thank you so much!’ Dolly fitted the hat before giving a twirl, enjoying the attention as everyone applauded.

  ‘Right, breakfast,’ Nancy stepped to the range to begin what she considered to be the best meal of the day.

  The Dempsters produced a large bag of boiled sweets as their gift and Poppy gave her ribbons for her hair. Then Fred presented Dolly with a little box.

  ‘I know it ain’t yer mum’s but I thought you might like it.’

  Dolly’s eyes filled with tears as she took out the gold chain with its tiny locket. ‘I’ll treasure it forever,’ she whispered and instantly fastened it about her neck. ‘I’ll just put these in my room…’ Whirling around, she snatched the books from the table and limped from the kitchen.

  Fred looked at Nellie, questions written all over his face.

  ‘She’s a bit overcome, lovey, give her a few minutes and she’ll be down again.’

  Fred nodded, satisfied with Nellie’s explanation.

  A good breakfast was enjoyed by all before work began. Poppy started cleaning the bar, and Nellie took the time to quietly quiz Noah about the goings-on of the evening before. She was relieved to learn nothing untoward had taken place between Poppy and Ezra Morton.

  ‘Jack, Dolly – get yourselves wrapped up warm and go spend some time in the park. Come back at dinner time mind.’ Nellie clapped her hands twice and ushered them out from under her feet. She smiled at the whoop of glee from the children as Jack raced off with Dolly limping behind.

  Fred went to work in the cellar and the Dempsters retired to their beds, leaving Nellie and Nancy to converse over more tea.

  Two minutes later, Jack and Dolly appeared with hats and coats on ready for their jaunt.

  ‘Here,’ Nellie said handing Jack some money, ‘for a treat each.’

  ‘Ta, Mum,’ he said and with a grin he tipped Dolly’s hat over her eyes and took to his heels.

  ‘Hey!’ Dolly yelled as she chased after him.

  The two women laughed at the youngsters’ antics and settled down to hot tea and a good chinwag.

  ‘What did Noah say then?’ Nancy asked once they were alone.

  Nellie updated her friend before adding, ‘I hope it’s the first and last time she sees that bugger, Nance.’

  ‘Me an’ all,’ Nancy agreed, then with a sigh she pushed herself to her feet. ‘This birthday cake won’t make itself. Here, Nell, have you noticed how we’ve been concreting with each other lately?’

  ‘Don’t you mean concurring?’ Nellie asked, trying not to laugh.

  ‘What’s that mean?’ Nancy asked, her back to Nellie.

  ‘Agreeing.’

  ‘Ar, that,’ Nancy muttered.

  ‘Yes, strange ain’t it?’ Nellie pursed her lips to prevent herself from laughing out loud.

  Then, getting to her feet she went to the bar to help Poppy with the cleaning and restocking the shelves.

  ‘So how went your evening out?’ she asked tentatively.

  ‘Well, it’s something I won’t be doing again,’ Poppy bristled.

  ‘Oh, why’s that, then?’

  Poppy stopped sweeping the floor and turned to walk to where Nellie was polishing the counter. ‘It wasn’t how I’d imagined it would be. He treated me like I was one of his men, Nellie. Like I was a dolt!’ Poppy said on a dry sob.

  Nellie rounded the bar and wrapped her arms around the girl. ‘We tried to warn you but we knew you had to discover it for yourself.’

  ‘Thanks, Nellie. How do you find a good man in this town?’ Poppy’s little laugh was empty.

  ‘I don’t know, I never managed it myself,’ Nellie smiled.

  ‘But you were married…’ Poppy began.

  ‘No, I’ve never wed,’ Nellie’s voice held a sadness. ‘I found Jack on the doorstep as you already know, and when Nance and I decided to raise him it seemed a better idea for me to pretend to already be a married woman. Fewer questions that way.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Nellie,’ Poppy replied.

  ‘What for?’

  ‘For your never having married, for me not listening to you in the first place,’ Poppy’s eyes glistened with tears as she spoke.

  ‘Look, lovey, we’re a family here and that means we don’t always do the right thing. We care about each other so we poke our noses into other’s business. I love you like a daughter so naturally I worry about you, especially when it comes to folk like Ezra Morton.’ Nellie sniffed away her own tears.

  ‘I love you too, Nellie, and I promise to take heed in the future.’ Poppy gave the woman a squeeze before letting go.

  ‘Right, now as it’s Dolly’s birthday we must keep a happy face on, agreed?’

  Poppy nodded.

  ‘I’ve sent the kids to the park for the morning. They’ll be back at dinner time and Nancy’s baking a cake for the little lass,’ Nellie said with a smile.

  ‘We’d better get on then,’ Poppy said, picking up her besom once more.

  ‘That’s my girl,’ Nellie grinned. ‘Oh, and about finding a fella – why not look a little closer to home.’

  Poppy frowned and Nellie laughed loudly. ‘The Dempsters,’ she said, ‘the problem there is which one to choose.’

  As she saw the penny drop, Nellie roared with laughter at Poppy’s naivety.

  Whilst Poppy was pouring her heart out to Nellie, Jack and Dolly strolled down the street towards Park Street Gardens chatting happily. There was a chill in the air but both were glad to be out of the fug of the bar, if only for a few hours.

  Hearing the call ‘any old rags’ they stepped to the side allowing the tatter’s horse and cart to pass by. Dolly wrinkled her nose as the horse left a deposit on the tramway, then her eyes wi
dened in disbelief as a woman with a bucket ran to the spot. Scooping up the manure with her bare hands she plopped it into the bucket. Dragging her dirty hands down a filthy apron, the woman scuttled away with her prize.

  ‘I hope she washes before she eats,’ Dolly said with a grimace.

  Jack grinned his agreement and they moved on. ‘She’ll sell that to an allotment owner,’ he said by way of explanation.

  As they passed St Bartholomew’s Church, Dolly stopped and peeped through the trees. ‘My mum’s in there,’ she said as a tear formed.

  ‘Shall we go and say hello to her?’ Jack asked tenderly.

  Dolly nodded and they entered the churchyard silently. Jack followed along as Dolly found the right plot. There was a small headstone in the form of a cross to mark the place where Avril Micklewhite lay. Dolly gazed down at the spot and her tears flowed down her face and dropped off her chin.

  Jack felt her pain and slipped her hand into his while Dolly’s eyes remained glued to the cross, although she squeezed his fingers in recognition of his thoughtfulness.

  ‘Hello, Mrs Micklewhite, it’s nice to meet you.’ Jack spoke in hushed tones, showing respect for all those laid in the holy ground.

  Dolly caught her breath for his words had taken her by surprise.

  Jack pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket and passed it to Dolly. ‘My name is Jack and I’m Dolly’s friend. We thought we’d drop by for a visit as it’s your girl’s birthday.’

  Dolly sniffed and smiled. ‘Hello, Mum,’ she whispered. The two chatted away to the burial plot like they were talking to a live person. Then saying their farewells, they left the cemetery.

  ‘Jack, that was so nice of you,’ Dolly said as they entered the Gardens.

  ‘I’m a nice bloke – d’aint you know?’ said Jack with a grin.

  Dolly gave him a push and burst out laughing before she tried to take to her heels but loped along with her uneven gait. Jack chased after her, yelling that he would get his revenge. The two made their way down the pathway revelling in their freedom as only children could.