Ha'Penny Chance (Ivy Rose Series Book 2)

by Gemma Jackson

  “That’s a fact.” John filled the cups Jem held in his hands. The two men thought nothing of serving tea to a pair of ladies. This was their work space – if they didn’t do it, who would?

  “The Grafton Street furniture dealers are rubbing their hands in glee at the stuff being offloaded.” Betty took the china tea cup and saucer from Jem with a smile. “It’s my understanding that the houses here in Dublin have been second homes so there is an abundance of furniture people have no intention of taking with them.”

  “I can only imagine.” Jem passed Ivy her tea. He smiled down at her bent head and waited until she looked up at him before releasing the saucer. He gave her a wink and a grin, bringing burning colour to her pale cheeks. “But what has that to do with the price of eggs?” He stepped over to take the can of milk from the bucket of cold water it sat in.

  “Those Grafton Street dealers want only the front-of-house stuff.” Betty allowed Jem to add a dash of fresh milk to her tea. “I believe one of those huge tables cooks use would be ideal in here – a table and a couple of the benches that the house staff use as seating would finish this place off.” She was willing to chit-chat until the moment was right to ask the question that most concerned her.

  “I can’t say as I’m familiar with the fixtures and fittings of fancy houses,” Jem admitted. He looked closely at the woman sitting, sipping tea. It was obvious she knew what went into these houses. What was a woman like her doing living in The Lane?

  “There’s an avenue yet to be explored, Jem,” Ivy offered. “I think the idea of getting one of those big old kitchen tables is marvellous.” She shrugged when he looked over at her with a smile. “The kitchen table in Ann Marie’s aunt’s house would seat twenty. The thing is huge, with drawers on both sides. It would be ideal in here.”

  “So, Ivy Murphy, you expect me to knock on the doors of the fancy and ask if they happen to be shifting?” Jem grinned, imagining himself, hat in hand, his horse and cart at his back, knocking on the doors of the ‘quality’. “I’d like me job.”

  “Jem, yer not thinking,” Ivy snapped. “I’m talking about presenting yourself to the dealers in Grafton Street and offering to shift the heavy goods for them.”

  “They must have their own means of transport.” Jem shook his head.

  “Not all of them.” Ivy was thinking hard. “You know, there may be a chance to make a few bob there. I’ll have to think about it.”

  “Look out,” Jem grinned. “She’s thinking!”

  “Would the pair of you settle down!” John hit the arm of his wheelchair. “You two are worse than the lads.”

  Betty Armstrong could wait no longer to raise the question she wanted answered. She needed to get about her own business. The telephone call she’d just made to Billy Flint had re-opened a chapter of her life she’d thought to keep closed.

  “I was wondering if any of you know what will happen to young Seán now,” she said. “I’ve become extremely fond of the little rascal. Would I be able to visit him, check that he is well and happy?”

  The shift in the atmosphere was alarming. Betty could almost feel ice forming.

  “What? What did I say?” Betty drew back, shocked at the expressions of the people around her.

  John beat at the arms of his chair with clenched fists, Jem’s jaw was clenched tight, and Ivy simply stared.

  “I haven’t seen as much of this sort of thing as some.” John Lawless spoke first, giving the other two time to organise their thoughts. “I heard about it from the men I worked with but this was the first time I witnessed one of these snatch-and-grabs meself.”

  “You have no idea what will happen to the Johnson children, have you?” Ivy stared at the other woman.

  Betty simply shook her head.

  “Jem,” Ivy held out her cup, “give us another cup of tea. That one passed over me teeth and tongue without a minute’s notice.” She was just buying time.

  “I’m going to take my tea into the office with me.” John Lawless had nothing to add to this conversation and he’d had enough drama for the day. “Shout out if you need me.” He turned to make his way into the office, then closed his eyes in frustration. How the heck was he supposed to carry his mug of tea and use his arms to push himself? He’d been so involved in the goings-on around him he’d forgotten his own limitations.

  “Come on.” Jem picked up John’s mug of tea and without further comment carried it through into the office.

  “I appear to have run everyone off,” Betty Armstrong whispered.

  “They are good men frustrated by a situation they can do nothing about,” Ivy offered. “They just didn’t want to hear me say aloud what we all know. We will never see Seán again.”

  “What?” Betty Armstrong surged to her feet, almost dropping the empty cup and saucer she held. “I refuse to accept that. I want to know where the lad is, how he is. I’ll not let anyone keep me away from checking up on that young boy.”

  “I hope yeh can swim.” Ivy shrugged.

  “I beg your pardon?” Betty sat carefully back down on her shaky chair.

  “In cases where no crime has been committed, the good nuns and priests of the local charities have the final say in what happens to the people who are removed from their own homes for whatever reason.” That was the most polite way she could think of saying that the clergy thought they knew better than everyone else. “In almost every case, that I know of anyway, men and women are separated from each other and their children. The nuns remove the children from their parents’ care. They decide the children would have a chance of a better life elsewhere.” Ivy could see Betty wasn’t pleased but she didn’t care – the woman asked what would happen to Seán and she was answering that question. She didn’t make the rules – all she could do was tell this one what was what.

  “The children, that we here in The Lane have been able to find out about, are taken to an orphanage in Wexford.” Ivy sighed tiredly. “It’s close to the harbour, makes it easier to move the children onto the boats. The children are taken, as far as we’ve been able to discover, under the guidance of a nun for the girls, a priest for the boys, to Canada and Australia. They never see home again.”

  “I refuse to believe that!” Betty snapped. How much of a fool did this woman think she was? “Seán has a mother, a family, bad and all as it is.”

  Ivy simply shrugged; there was nothing more she could add.

  “Thank you for your time.” Betty almost smashed the delicate china tea cup and saucer onto a nearby chair. “I believe I’ll check into this situation. I simply refuse to believe something like this goes on in this day and age. It’s positively primitive.”

  Ivy had a feeling Jem had wanted to talk to the woman about Billy Flint, but that could wait. She sat and watched the ramrod-straight back of the woman as she almost stormed from the tearoom.

  “I’m back from me travels. I’ve climbed mountains, crossed ravines, wrestled alligators but I’m back with cream cakes in hand!” Conn shouted aloud with a laugh in his voice. He had no wish to discuss the woman who just passed him with her chin so high in the air it was a wonder she didn’t fall over her own feet.

  “Yeh must be knicky-knacked after all that travelling. You poor thing! Grab yerself a mug of tea.” Ivy welcomed the release from tension. What the heck were they going to do? The nuns wouldn’t leave this place alone now. They’d be over with their rosary beads and holy water, dipping their noses into every nook and cranny of The Lane.

  Jem appeared in the open door of the office. “Where’s your one gone? I wanted to talk to her.” He walked out of the office.

  “You can catch her later, Jem.” Ivy felt as if she’d aged a hundred years. “She left with a bit of a bee in her bonnet.”

  “I got cream buns for us lads,” Conn said. “They’re the cheapest and we won’t know the difference. I got a few cream dainties as well.”

  “Good lad, but we need to figure out what we’re going to serve the things on.” Jem was ha
ppy enough to concentrate on trivia for the moment. The large flaky fresh cream cakes broke apart as soon as you bit into them. They needed something to catch the pastry flakes and cream so they could enjoy every bit of the treat. “I don’t want spilled cream and that powder sugar all over the floor in here. The stuff will stink and stick to our feet.”

  “Newspaper, Jem,” Ivy grinned. “The answer to most of our needs around here – old newspaper, you can’t beat it.”

  “Good enough,” Jem shrugged. “Conn, grab some of the old newspaper from that cupboard.”

  Old newspapers were a treasured commodity amongst the poor of Dublin. Newspaper was collected and hoarded carefully by everyone. The paper served a multitude of purposes.

  “Jimmy, come out of there!” Jem shouted over his shoulder towards the office. He hadn’t liked the look of young Jimmy earlier. It wasn’t the lad’s fault his family had once again brought trouble to The Lane. “There’s tea and cream cakes going.”

  “You called me?” Jimmy Johnson stood uncertainly in the doorway of the break room. His eyes remained glued to the floor while he appeared to want to disappear into the flooring.

  “Come in, lad.” Jem knew the last thing Jimmy wanted to do was join in a social occasion but the lad needed to learn. “Conn, pour Jimmy a mug of tea and give him one of those cream buns.”

  “What?” Jimmy’s head snapped up. He was sure he hadn’t heard right. He’d never had a cream cake in his life.

  “I promised Emmy I’d call her as soon as Conn got back with the cakes,” Jem said to cover Jimmy’s unease. “It’s getting dark out there. The lamplighter hasn’t been around yet.”

  “Leave her for a minute, Jem,” Ivy suggested. Emmy heard entirely too much of what went on around here. “We’ll save her a cake.”

  “Sit down, Jimmy.” Jem waved towards a nearby chair. “Conn, my good man,” he then said in an affected accent, “see to my guests.”

  “Certainly, sir.” Conn bowed from the waist and presented Ivy with a fresh cup of tea and a cream dainty on a china saucer, all he could find to put it on. He wasn’t going to give Ivy Murphy her cake on newspaper. Conn used part of the lid of the cardboard box to carry a cake in to John Lawless in the office. He hurried back out, John’s mug in hand and refilled it from the giant teapot sitting on the fire. Conn never broke character. He kept his nose in the air, his back impossibly straight.

  Conn presented Jem with a mug of tea and a wad of newspaper with a large cream slice sitting elegantly on top. He didn’t even crack a smile. His brother and sister weren’t the only ones in the family who enjoyed playacting.

  “If Sir’s guest would care to take a seat,” Conn gestured towards Jimmy, continuing his role as rag-tailed butler, “I will be with him momentarily.” He turned to fetch two mugs of tea and cream buns for himself and Jimmy.

  The two lads attacked the cream buns. The cakes disappeared so fast Ivy wondered how they managed to even taste them. She remembered her own first taste of a cream cake. She’d been to afternoon tea at Bewleys restaurant with Ann Marie. She’d found the cakes a nightmare to eat, the darn cream seeming to leak out of twenty places at once. She’d been extremely uncomfortable but she’d loved the taste of them. Now it gave her a little thrill to pick up a cream cake from the bakery to accompany a cup of tea in her own place. Sitting here in a wide open space attached to a stable, surrounded by friends, the cakes tasted better than at Bewleys. She could lick her lips and use her fingers to scoop up the cream. There was no one to glare at her in horror.

  “Conn, grab another couple of cream buns for yourself and Jimmy.” Jem grinned at the look of stunned delight on the faces of the two lads. “Better get them into yeh quick.”

  “But, but, the others?” Conn didn’t really want to question his right to a second cream bun.

  “What the eyes don’t see the heart will never grieve over, Conn,” Jem said and laughed when Conn almost launched himself in the direction of the box of cream cakes sitting proudly on the cupboard.

  “I suggest you two eat the cakes slowly this time.” Ivy grinned. “Give yerselves time to taste the feckin’ things.”

  “Uncle Jem, it’s getting really dark out.” Emmy strolled into the livery. “Storytime is over.” She crawled up onto Jem’s knees, sure of a loving welcome.

  Conn quickly supplied the child with an enamel mug of creamy milk and a cream dainty sitting prettily on one of the spare saucers.

  “Well, I’m glad to see everyone is still in one piece.” Ann Marie Gannon walked into the livery. She was dressed in her shiny black second-hand suit. She lowered herself down onto the chair Conn offered her. Without a blink she accepted a cup of tea and a cream cake from the vigilant Conn.

  “Ann Marie,” Jem grinned, “make yourself at home – you’re in your granny’s.” He had never used that particular expression before but it seemed to suit the occasion.

  “John telephoned the house – he told Sadie a little of what has been going on in here,” Ann Marie said simply. “When he telephoned to tell us the situation had returned to normal I couldn’t stay away. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Ann Marie,” Ivy said swiftly, “I don’t think you’ve met Jimmy Johnson, have you?” She knew Ann Marie would have seen Jimmy about the place. “It was Jimmy’s home that was invaded this afternoon.”

  “How do you do, Jimmy.” Ann Marie offered her hand, almost causing poor Jimmy to swallow his tongue. He wasn’t accustomed to social niceties. “I’ve seen you around the place but we’ve never been introduced.” She’d got the message. They couldn’t discuss the situation with this young man sitting before them like a whipped puppy.

  “Jimmy built all the furniture in this room,” Conn offered while he surreptitiously gave Jimmy a push in Ann Marie’s direction. The poor woman’s arm must be aching she’d been holding it out so long. “He’s even created something special for Ivy’s dolls.”

  “How do,” Jimmy muttered. He gave a quick shake to Ann Marie’s hand before dropping it as if scalded.

  “You are certainly turning this space into a delightful little tearoom, Jem.” Ann Marie settled into exchanging polite chit-chat with Ivy and Jem. Serious conversation would have to wait.

  “I don’t mean to be rude, Ann Marie, but I need to get this young lady settled,” Jem said eventually, pushing to his feet with Emmy in his arms. The little girl was wearing a milk moustache and a sleepy grin.

  “Quite understandable, Jem.” Ann Marie smiled at the image of the tall man with the young girl clasped so protectively to his chest.

  “I’m going to finish my cup of tea, Jem,” Ivy said. “Then Ann Marie and I will go over to my place, get out of your hair.”

  “I’ll see both of you later then.” Jem knew Ivy understood what he meant. They needed to talk but not in front of Emmy and the lads.

  Jem carried Emmy in the direction of the ladder leading to his loft. Without breaking stride he threw Emmy over his shoulder in a fireman’s lift while reaching for the ladder. The sound of Emmy’s delighted laughter rang through the stable. The horses didn’t react. They were used to the sound of laughter.

  “So, Conn,” Ann Marie smiled at a young man she was becoming extremely fond of, “how are your brother and sister getting along? I haven’t seen them in ages.”

  “I have more than one brother and sister, Ann Marie.” Conn knew what was needed. Jimmy was sitting like a scared rabbit, afraid to move, afraid to open his mouth in case he said the wrong thing and terrified he might be asked a question. “But I know which pair you mean.” It seemed to him the world and his brother knew about Liam and his shenanigans. “Liam and Vera are doing really well.” He could see Jimmy’s shoulders drop as he relaxed and accepted the fact that no one was going to question him about his family. “I don’t know if you’ve heard but they’re appearing, with the dogs, in the Gaiety pantomime.” Conn grinned. “Me ma and da are telling the world and his brother about that.”

  “I’m glad things are
working out for them.” Ann Marie finished her tea and cake. She passed the soiled dishes to Conn without thinking. Ivy stood and put her own dishes back beside the cardboard box.

  “Come on, Ann Marie.” Ivy smiled at the two young men. “Let’s be having yeh.”

  “Thank you for your hospitality, gentlemen.” Ann Marie smiled sweetly and stood to follow Ivy from the livery.

  “‘Gentlemen’ – did yeh hear that, Jimmy?” Conn grinned and pushed at Jimmy’s shoulder with enough strength to shove him off his seat. “She called us gentlemen.”

  “Shows what she knows,” Jimmy grinned.

  “Any chance of a bit of help in here or do you two gentlemen plan to lead a life of leisure from now on?” John Lawless leaned out of his wheelchair to shout around the office door. “Conn, it’s nearly time for a shift change. We’ll have returning men and horses in here soon. You need to take care of the dockets.”

  “Coming!” Jimmy and Conn jumped to obey their master’s voice.

  Chapter 21

  “You need a light on these steps, Ivy.” Ann Marie hurried to follow Ivy down the steps leading to the basement rooms.

  “Chance would be a fine thing,” Ivy answered absentmindedly. She took her keys from her pocket and unlocked her front door. “Here, give us your hand.” She dropped the keys back into her pocket before putting her hand behind her. With Ann Marie’s hand in hers, Ivy led the way into her dark basement.