“Thanks.” Ivy was trying to make the serious choice between a cream slice or a cream apple sponge. “Ann Marie, pick a cake.”
“Why don’t we take the cakes back to my house, Ivy?” Ann Marie could pick up cream cakes for the Lawless family. “Sadie could make a pot of tea for us. I’m sure she’d be glad of the company. She must get lonely in the house all day with just a baby for company.”
“I’m not refusing your invitation, Ann Marie,” Ivy said softly. “But I want to discuss some stuff with you, private stuff that I don’t want to talk about in front of Sadie. I want to get your advice. Is that all right with you?”
“This once I’ll let you away with it,” Ann Marie sighed. She’d never get Ivy into her home at this rate. “Excuse me, Bob,” she raised her voice to carry into the back room, “would you bring an extra box for me, please? I want some cream cakes of my own.”
Bob came from the back of the shop carrying two flat cardboard boxes and a large paper bag filled with the day-old bread and rolls.
“Are yeh sure yeh want all this, Ivy?” Bob held up the bag. He’d be glad of a few pence for the stuff. “There’s enough here to feed the army.”
“That’s grand, Bob.” Ivy grinned, thinking of Jem’s lads. “I’ve a hungry army to feed.”
“Well, far be it from me to miss a sale.” Bob shrugged. It was none of his business what people did with their money. If Ivy Murphy could pay for the stuff she was welcome to it. He assembled the two boxes and stood filling them with fresh cream cakes as each woman pointed to her selection.
“Let me pay for these, Ann Marie,” Ivy said when Bob had totted up their purchases. She gave her friend a sharp look, hoping she’d get the message. When Ann Marie gave her the nod she continued. “You can fix up with me later.” Ivy laid out the correct amount on the counter. It was all in coppers.
“You out singing on the street last night, Ivy?” Bob asked.
“Money’s money, Bob.” Ivy was glad to get rid of that much of the coins that were weighing her down.
“That’s a fact.” Bob stood and watched while Ivy packed the bag and boxes holding their purchases into her battered old pram. “Bye now, ladies – see ye next week.”
“Goodbye,” said Ann Marie with a smile.
“See yeh, Bob,” Ivy called over her shoulder. “Okay, the butcher’s now.” Ivy grabbed the handle of her pram and pointed it in the direction of the butcher shop next door to the bakery.
“Hey, Will, is there any one working here?” Ivy shouted to the empty shop. The meat hanging from hooks swung in the breeze from the open door. Rabbits and chickens hung by the neck from the rafters. Thank God there were no bluebottles buzzing about the place. Ivy hated the amount of flies and bluebottles that swarmed this butcher’s in summer.
Ann Marie tried not to take a deep breath. She preferred her meat to be served, cooked, on a platter.
“I’ll be with yeh in a minute.” The smell of roasting meat travelled from the back of the shop.
“While yer back there, Will,” Ivy shouted, “I’m looking for a bucket of yer best drippin’.” The butcher sold the fat from the dish he roasted his meat in. The brown jellied juices that fell to the bottom of the pan and into the drippin’ were delicious. Ivy thought Jem’s lads would be thrilled with a chunk of bread spread thickly with fresh butcher’s drippin’.
Ann Marie stood in silence, trying not to think of the germs that would breed in this place.
“While you’re about it, Will,” Ivy shouted again, “I want some of your roast beef and a few slices of your ham.” She knew most people didn’t possess an oven. She was very fortunate in that regard. If a family were having a party the butcher would roast the meat they bought from him, for a price.
“By jingo, missus,” Will arrived from the back, his rotund body covered by a blood-encrusted white apron, a heavy pot clamped to his large stomach, “did yeh come up in the pools? Hello, Ann Marie, didn’t know yeh were out here – this one,” he gave a nod towards Ivy, “is making that much noise.”
“Hello.” Ann Marie smiled and tried not to look at the man’s apron.
“I’m having a good day, Will,” Ivy said, grinning. “I thought I’d spread the wealth.”
“Yeh can spread as much of it as yeh want in this direction, Ivy.” Will deposited the pot on the marble countertop. “Have yeh something to put the drippin’ in, Ivy?” Will looked at Ivy’s empty hands. “I don’t supply pots, yeh know.”
“Lend us a pot then, Will.” Ivy sighed. She’d completely forgotten she’d need something to carry the drippin’ home in. “I’ll send one of the lads back down with the pot tomorrow, promise.”
“Seeing as it’s yerself, Ivy . . .” Will shrugged. “I wouldn’t do it for just anybody.”
“Thanks, Will, yer a gent.” Ivy’s smile had Will sucking in his stomach. She was a rare beauty when she smiled, Ivy Murphy. She and her posh friend were a sight for sore eyes. “I want the makings of a coddle as well, Will.”
“What’s a coddle, Ivy?” Ann Marie wished she could paint sufficiently well to capture this scene on canvas. She made a promise to herself at that moment. She was going to buy one of those Brownie box cameras and record this world Ivy was introducing her to. She wondered if anyone would mind having their picture taken. She’d ask Ivy’s opinion.
“A coddle, missus,” Will answered her question, “is a dish peculiar to Dublin. You won’t find it anywhere else, missus. I should know. I’ve travelled the length and breadth of this country and never seen a coddle anywhere but here. It can have any kind of left-over meat in it, with sliced potatoes and onions, but usually people use sausages and rashers for it.”
“Shout out the prices as yeh go, Will,” Ivy said. “I want to have me money ready for yeh.”
“Fair enough.” Will started shouting out prices, starting with the rent he intended to charge for the tin can with its lid that he was going to loan Ivy. He knew how good she was with numbers but she’d never keep all those figures in her head – however it paid to keep the customer sweet.
“Here yeh go, Will!” Ivy passed over a copper waterfall of coins. She wondered she didn’t pass out at the amount she was spending. It wasn’t that long ago since she’d stood outside this shop sniffing the air, unable to buy even the butcher’s drippin’.
“Hold on a minute.” Will took a stub of pencil from behind his ear. He licked the lead and used the corner of the brown paper that sat on his counter to jot down the prices, putting his hand on each individual item as he went. He stood counting the figure up for a moment. He checked the money on his counter and blinked in surprise. It was right to the penny. How had she done that?
“That’s my lot for today, Will.” Ivy waited while her goods were wrapped securely in brown paper. “I’ll send one of the lads down on his bike with the can tomorrow.” She packed her purchases carefully into her pram. She didn’t want the drippin’ spilling over her cream cakes. “See yeh.”
“Yeah, I’ll see yeh.” Will stared after the two women.
“Goodbye,” Ann Marie added as the two women left the shop.
Ann Marie’s feet were aching inside her steel-toed boys’ boots. She was dressed from head to toe in the clothes Ivy had insisted she buy. Ivy had no idea of the number of times Ann Marie, dressed as she was now, had danced around her comfortably furnished suite of rooms, giggling like an idiot at her own image in the mirror.
“Where to now, Ivy?”
“Home,” Ivy answered. “I’m spittin’ feathers, Ann Marie. I want a pot of tea, a sandwich and a cream cake.” She grinned. “I want to put me aching feet up by the fire and dry out for the first time today.”
“That sounds wonderful.” Ann Marie giggled. The rain was coming down heavier than ever – cold drops of it were dripping off the end of her nose. She had a sudden vision of herself stepping into the street, putting her hand in the air and shouting ‘Taxi!’ She’d frighten the horses.
“What has you so amus
ed?” Ivy glanced over at her friend.
Ann Marie’s body was visibly shaking and it wasn’t with cold.
“I was imagining everyone’s reaction if I suddenly demanded a cabby.” Ann Marie shared a grin with Ivy. “Do you think we could store your pram in a cab and travel home in style?”
“I’d like to see you try that, Ann Marie.” Ivy bent over, laughing till tears fell from her eyes. “They’d send for the do-gooders to take us away.”
“What did you want to discuss with me, Ivy?” Ann Marie asked as the two women strolled through the grimy back streets of Dublin. Ann Marie hadn’t even known these streets existed until she’d begun to keep Ivy company on her rounds.
“Wait.” Ivy didn’t want to discuss anything where other people could hear. “Wait until we’re home and the tea’s made.” Then she added loudly so any interested persons could hear, “The evenings close in so fast these days. It’s practically dark now and it’s not even three o’clock.”
“It’s winter, Ivy.” Ann Marie shrugged. She didn’t know why they were discussing the weather but she’d play along. “What can you expect? I do like it though when the lamplighter comes around. There’s something magical about the glowing blue flames of the gas lanterns.” There, Ann Marie thought, she’d done her conversational bit.
“That there is.” Ivy smirked in Ann Marie’s direction. Her friend was learning.
They stepped out of Kildare Street onto Merrion Row.
“We’re almost home,” said Ivy.
The two women walked silently and swiftly in the direction of The Lane.
Ann Marie could sense Ivy’s unease but she didn’t understand the cause. Ivy seemed to be checking everything around them as they travelled the almost deserted city streets. With their heads bent against the lashing rain the two women practically ran through the tunnel leading into The Lane.
Chapter 14
“Ivy Murphy,” Marcella Wiggins hurried over to stop the two women disappearing down Ivy’s steps, “have yeh anything we could cut wood with?”
“No,” Ivy shrugged. “I don’t. What’s going on?”
There were people in bunches down at the far end of The Lane from the entrance tunnel. They were gathered in front of Mr Wilson’s property. The old man was known to run people off with heavy blows from his big fists and if that didn’t work he used his steel-capped boots.
“We’re clearing away all that scrub down the end. It should have been done years ago and we used up the last of the wood we had on hand at our All Hallows’ Eve party.” Marcella puffed along at a rapid pace, her face glowing red under her black shawl. “I wanted a word,” she said quietly when she reached the two women.
“Do you want to come in for a cup of tea?” Ivy offered.
“That’s good of yeh.” Marcella was tempted but she glanced over her shoulder at the crowd waiting for her. “I can’t, I haven’t the time.”
“Well, I’ll see yeh later then,” Ivy started to leave.
“Wait a minute.” Marcella stopped Ivy from moving by placing her hand on her shoulder. “I told yeh, I want to talk to yeh.”
“Should I go over to the livery?” Ann Marie offered in case the subject was private.
“That’s all right, pet.” Marcella shook her head. “You were here the other night so yeh know. Listen to me, Ivy Murphy,” she pushed the sleeves of her tatty jumper up her arms, showing she meant business, “something has to be done about that Declan Johnson strutting around the place. Someone has got to go and talk to Billy Flint.” She ignored Ivy’s gasp and continued. “The more I got to thinking about it, the more I doubt Billy Flint knows anything about that blaggard.”
“I’ve never even met the man, Mrs Wiggins.” Ivy could see where this was going.
“I’ve known Billy Flint man and boy, Ivy.” Marcella stared into Ivy’s eyes. The situation with Declan Johnson could not be allowed to continue. What they’d done the other night was like putting a bandage on a broken leg: useless. “Yer planning to sell them dolls of yours out in front of the Gaiety, aren’t yeh?” There wasn’t much that was private in The Lane. “You better have a word with Billy about that, Ivy Murphy, and you know it.”
“I refuse –” Ivy started.
“I don’t care what you feel about it, Ivy Murphy,” Marcella interrupted. “You go talk to the man for all of us here in The Lane. I’ll get your one who took over Granny’s room to go with you to see Billy Flint. But go you will.” She shook her finger into Ivy’s face. She knew a thing or two about your one who was staying in Granny’s room. She’d keep it to herself – for the moment.
“I . . .” Ivy wished she hadn’t been raised to obey her elders in all things. She wanted to pull her own hair out. As if she didn’t have enough problems already.
“That’s my final word on the matter.” Marcella turned to go back to the crowd she’d been ordering around. They had probably been bone idle since she left them. She had to do everything herself. “I’ll be about me business now but you mark my words, Ivy Murphy.”
“Mr Wilson will do his nut when he sees what you’ve done to his place!” Ivy shouted after the woman. She couldn’t believe even Marcella would go up against the man who ruled that end of The Lane.
“Pity about him.” Marcella waved her hand over her shoulder in farewell and hurried away.
“That woman is a force of nature,” Ann Marie said as she picked up the handle end of the pram. “This wet weather doesn’t seem to slow her down. I must admit I’ll be glad to get out of the cold and rain.”
“It’s all right, Ann Marie, you won’t melt,” Ivy answered absentmindedly. She took her keys from her pocket, picked up the business end of the pram and began to back down her outside steps. She unlocked her front door and Ann Marie pushed the pram inside with a sigh of relief.
“We can push the pram into your back room, Ivy,” Ann Marie suggested. “I’ll unpack it onto the kitchen table – then I can return the pram to the front room.” She knew Ivy had a great deal to take care of as soon as she came through her door.
“Thanks, Ann Marie.”
The two women hurried towards the back room, Ivy pushing the pram in front of her.
“Let me get organised, Ann Marie.” Ivy began to take care of the range as she spoke. She’d banked the fire before leaving and now raked it out before adding a few sticks, the stub end of a candle and fresh coal to the burning embers. She wanted a fast blaze. She filled the kettle with hot water from the range before putting the kettle on the range top directly over the coals. The water would come to a boil in no time.
Ann Marie loved watching Ivy at work. It was an education.
Ivy removed her wet coat and shawl. She dragged one of the kitchen chairs over to the range and draped her wet clothing over it. “Give us your coat and shawl, Ann Marie. You shouldn’t stand around in wet clothes. Take off them boots. I’ll find yeh a pair of dry socks.”
While Ann Marie removed her wet clothing Ivy dropped to her knees to root under the big brass bed. The two women would be warm and dry by the time the pot of tea was made and ready to pour. Ivy passed Ann Marie a pair of handknit socks then sat on the bed to put her knitted slippers on.
Ann Marie dropped into one of the ugly chairs placed in front of the range. It amused her that the dilapidated chairs were the most comfortable she’d ever sat in. She watched Ivy kick an empty bucket under the brass tap of the reservoir. She used the water directly from the tap to wash her hands while the water trickled into the bucket. It made her appreciate her own modern bathroom all the more.
Ivy cut the bread and assembled roast-beef sandwiches on the worktop of her tall cupboard. She carried a small table over to the range and placed it between the two easy chairs. She put her best dragonfly-decorated cups and saucers on the table with milk and sugar in the matching jug and bowl. The roast-beef sandwiches she put on one of her large plates. Ivy checked the table, making sure they had everything they needed before she joined Ann Marie, dropping into
the stuffed chair across the range.
“You said you wanted my advice, Ivy? What about?” Ann Marie knew Ivy’s pride insisted that she could do everything herself but sometimes one needed help.
“So many things,” Ivy pushed her hands through her hair. “I don’t know if I’m on me head or me heels sometimes.”
Ann Marie took a cup of tea and a sandwich and waited.
“I’ve spent me whole life counting pennies and squeezing ha’pennies. I could never stop me da from taking every penny I earned.” Ivy laughed gently. Her big strong da had removed the money from her hands almost before she’d come through the door. “I never even thought of keeping the money away from him, to be honest.” She sipped her tea and nibbled on one of the sandwiches. “Now the amount of money I made from the sale of those baby dolls made me dizzy, Ann Marie.” Ivy had bought the entire stock of Harry Green the wholesaler’s naked baby dolls. With the help of the Lawless family she’d dressed the dolls in exquisite handmade, one-of-a-kind baby outfits. “The money is still coming in from the shop owners who bought the dolls. I’m getting cheques in the post from around the country these days.” She shook her head in wonder at the changes taking place in her life. “That’s okay, that’s all right, I can deal with that. You showed me how.”
“So, what is the problem?” Ann Marie nibbled on a delicious roast-beef sandwich. She’d learned there was no use trying to hurry Ivy when she was discussing her business.
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