Ha'Penny Chance (Ivy Rose Series Book 2)

by Gemma Jackson

  She turned into the tunnel that led into The Lane . . . right into a scene of chaos. People were running around shouting, and children were screaming and pointing towards the end of the livery. From where she stood in the mouth of the tunnel her eyes tracked Jem’s long livery building, fearing there was a problem with the structure. She took a deep breath of relief when she realised that whatever was going on appeared to have nothing to do with the livery building itself – Jem was standing grinning in the open doorway.

  There was a crowd of people pushing and shoving down at the end of The Lane. It seemed, from a distance, to have something to do with the bramble patch. Had they found something in the long wide gap between the end of the livery and the front of Old Man Wilson’s place? She hurried her footsteps.

  “What’s going on, Jem?” Ivy asked.

  “I was wondering when you were going to show up.” Jem threw his arm around Ivy’s shoulders and began to lead her towards the gathered crowd. “You were out and about early this morning.”

  “I went by the church to light a few candles. Then I went to see Nanny Grace.”

  She stared at the crowd pulling at the area of wild scrub that ran between the wide end of the livery building and what Old Man Wilson always claimed was his garden. The brambles were thick and tall, defying even the smallest child to climb through. The bushes were bare now but in September the children of The Lane risked a thick ear from Mr Wilson by sneaking in to pick blackberries and rosethorn buds from this area. “What is going on down there, Jem?”

  “You went out without your pram and the sky didn’t fall?”

  “Eejit!” She nudged him with her elbow. “What on earth is going on, Jem?”

  The area was a hive of activity. Young men and boys were busy chopping down the small forest of brambles, women were shouting instructions. An army of children were filling their homemade wagons with the cut-down brambles and branches. There would be blazing fires in a lot of homes this evening.

  “Mrs Wiggins and her army cleared a lot of that stuff away,” Jem jerked his head towards the brambles, “when they raided the place for the bin fires, remember? Well . . .” He looked down at her with a grin. “But first let me tell you the best bit: Seán McDonald has been hiding in there – ever since his family were taken away.”

  “Go ’way!” Ivy turned to stare at Jem. “How did he manage to survive in all them brambles? What’s he been living on?”

  “He’s weak but alive, thank God. Some of the children have been sneaking him their school milk and bread and the lad’s always been good at finding something for himself to eat . . . and Ivy . . .” Jem grinned, delighted with himself, “he’s been coming and going by way of his ‘secret tunnel’ behind the brambles!”

  “My God, Jem!” Ivy stared at the busy crowd. “Are you telling me that there’s another tunnel down there?”

  “So, it seems. You know, Ann Marie’s a terror for reading old papers and looking through things. She has always reckoned there had to be more openings into this square. She’s been looking for them in my livery, banging on the walls, pulling out rubbish and such. She even sent away to some government office for papers she says I should have on hand. As far as I know she hasn’t received any new documents, as she calls them, but it seems young Seán found one of those bloody openings all on his own.”

  “Where’s Seán now?” She looked around as if expecting the child to be collapsed on the cobbles.

  “Lily Connelly,” Jem whispered under his breath. Declan Johnson was still on the loose. He wouldn’t want that fella to get news of young Seán. In his opinion the man was off his rocker – who knew what he’d do? “She’s the one who followed one of the little kids, wondering what they were getting up to over here. She has Seán stashed away at her place.”

  “What’s going on over here?” Maisie Reynolds was standing behind them, her arms holding her shawl folded over her chest as she examined the situation.

  Ivy had to leave it to Jem to explain. She was having a hard time understanding how something as important as an entrance tunnel could be kept hidden from the people who needed to know.

  “Yer telling me that there’s a way in and out of this place hidden behind that lot?” Maisie asked when Jem had explained, pointing her chin at the bramble-choked plot.

  “So it would seem.” Jem grinned. He knew how much a new entrance would mean to the people of The Lane. No more marching in your best shoes through the questionable liquids and whatnot of the Tunnel. No more walking past drunken louts hanging around outside the pub.

  “Are they going to open up all of this today?” Ivy stared at the area she’d known all of her life. She’d been one of the children running in there to pick berries.

  “We’re going to give it a ruddy good try,” Jem said.

  “We’ll need some of that lot,” Maisie jerked her head towards the disappearing scrub bush while pushing the sleeves of her jumper up to her elbows, “for the party fires. The workers will need a drop of tea to keep them going. Where’s Marcella?” She turned around, looking for the woman who could always get things done.

  “In the thick of it as usual.” Jem nodded to where Mrs Wiggins was locked in a verbal knock-down drag-out argument with Mr Wilson. The man had come home for a bite to eat and found his property had been invaded. He was shaking his fists in Marcella’s face but the woman wasn’t moving.

  Jem took stock of the situation between the two old neighbours. It wouldn’t come to blows and they didn’t need him here for a moment. “I’m going to have a few of the lads search the livery and see if we can find any old tools stashed around the place.” He nodded his head towards the gang of youths hacking into the scrub, “I gave that lot everything I had on hand but it would help if we had more.”

  “You go do that.” Ivy gave him a gentle nudge. “I’m not budging from here. I want to see what’s behind all that lot. I’ll give the lads a hand while I’m waiting for you to get back. Don’t be too long.”

  “I’ll be as quick as I can – you’re not the only one wants to know what’s been hidden.” Jem gave her shoulders a squeeze before stepping away.

  “Right, folks!” Marcella had said all she was going to say to Fred Wilson. If that man wanted to call the Garda that was his prerogative. She was getting stuck in while the going was good. “We need to get organised, work in turn. It makes no sense for all of us to be pushing and shoving.”

  In no time at all she had a team of willing workers of all ages and sizes organised into a relay work force.

  “Maisie, get them party fires lit!” Marcella shouted. “The older kids will be home from school soon and they can lend a hand getting some of the sticks and bits over to the fires.” She looked around to plan out the best use of her work force. “I suppose the women with childer coming in from school will want to stop work to get them something to eat.” She sighed at the thought of any delay.

  “There’s too much work here for us to stop, Mrs Wiggins.” Ivy wiped her sweating face on the arm of her jumper. She’d thrown off her coat and shawl, and taken the back of her long skirt and pulled it up between her legs to give her room to move. She felt like a child again. “Why don’t you ask Jem Ryan to organise a few lads to pick up something from the Penny Dinners? We can have everyone in The Lane working on this.”

  “We can’t ask Jem to feed The Lane, Ivy.” Marcella was tempted though. It would mean they could keep working. She couldn’t wait to see what was behind this load of old scrub.

  “Jem Ryan!”

  The female voice booming out of the tunnel stopped Jem in his tracks.

  He’d been hurrying back, a load of old tools in hand, to join in the work of clearing the scrub. He jerked back around, wondering what it was that would bring Ann Marie Gannon charging down the tunnel like a hooligan.

  Ann Marie practically exploded out of the tunnel, waving a large brown envelope in the air like a demented woman, the grin on her face stretched practically ear to ear.

&nb
sp; “You won’t believe what I’ve discovered!” she yelled, still madly waving the brown envelope in the air. “You simply will not believe it, Jem.”

  “Just a minute, Ann Marie.” Jem looked around – this looked like it might take some time. “Baldy!” he yelled at a youth with a mop of curly hair making his way down to the area of activity at the bottom of The Lane. “Take these tools down with you, will you?” He passed the load over to the lad with a sigh. He’d have to see what had Ann Marie so excited.

  “Where’s Ivy?” Ann Marie had been so intent on passing along her news she hadn’t noticed the crowd at the end of the cobbled square. “She’ll never forgive us if we don’t share this news with her.”

  “She’s down there.” Jem grinned as he pointed.

  Ann Marie’s eyes almost popped out of her head at the large crowd she’d failed to notice. . Maybe she needed new glasses? “In the thick of things as per usual. We think a new tunnel into The Lane has been discovered. I was headed down there when you caught me.”

  “Talk about divine providence!” Ann Marie waved her hand in the air to stop Jem saying whatever he’d opened his mouth to add. She opened the large brown envelope she carried and ruffled through the papers inside. She pulled a thick, many times folded, large sheet of paper from the envelope. “I think this is the one I need,” she muttered almost to herself. “Yes . . . this is it. I need somewhere to spread this.” She looked around as if expecting a table to suddenly appear from thin air.

  “Ann Marie, what are you doing here? Are you the one keeping Jem Ryan from doing his bit?” A sweating Ivy was taking long angry strides down the exterior length of the livery building towards them. “There’s work to be done!”

  “Ann Marie has something to show us, Ivy,” Jem shrugged.

  “We haven’t the time for whatever it is, Ann Marie,” Ivy said when she reached the other two. “We have too much work we need to get done.”

  “This is important, Ivy.” Ann Marie waved both hands in the air. “I believe whatever you’re doing down there has something to do with what I ran over here to share with you and Jem.” She dropped both document-laden hands to her hips.

  “It never rains but it pours around here.” Ivy sighed. “Give us a minute, Ann Marie. Jem, I offered your money to buy a few buckets of food from the Penny Dinners. I know you won’t mind. There’s just too much work to be done down there,” a jerk of her chin in the direction of the activity underlined her meaning, “and we can’t have everyone stopping to get their family something to eat. Some of them lazy buggers will forget to come back to work.”

  “If something can be organised, I’ll gladly pay for buckets of stew and for gur cake.” Ann Marie was familiar with the Penny Dinner menu by this time. “But I must insist you two give me your full attention. You need to know what I’ve discovered.”

  “Can’t it wait, Ann Marie?” Ivy looked back towards the people working at clearing the scrub. She wanted to be there when they discovered whatever was hidden behind that lot.

  “No,” Ann Marie was adamant. “I believe what I’ve discovered in these papers will help with the work you’ve been doing down there. I really must insist you hear me out.”

  “Let’s take it inside, ladies!” Jem took each woman by the elbow and turned them towards the livery doors. “It would appear we need to hear what Ann Marie has to say, Ivy.”

  The threesome headed into the livery.

  Betty Armstrong stood in the opening into The Lane, wondering what on earth was going on. She’d been about the town all day and now returned to find a hive of activity with people swarming about. She was about to approach Ivy and her friends when they turned into the livery, their heads bent in what appeared to be earnest conversation. She didn’t want to interrupt. She looked at the packages in her hand and wondered about dropping them off in her own room before approaching the crowd at the far end of The Lane – then with a shrug she began walking slowly in that direction.

  “May I do anything to help?” she asked when she reached the woman who appeared to be in charge of the controlled madness that surrounded her.

  “The very woman.” Marcella’s jumper sleeves signalled her satisfaction: they were pushed up as far as they would go. “Do you know Lily Connelly?” She couldn’t mention Seán and his whereabouts aloud.

  “I don’t think so.” Betty wondered what that had to do with anything.

  “Fair enough.” Marcella took the woman by the elbow and gently towed her away from the crowd. She pointed to one of the houses and told her which rooms the Connellys rented. “I need you to ask Mrs Connelly to organise the tables and such for a street party.” Marcella knew this woman had been scouring the town for news of young Seán. She’d bet money she would be willing to nurse Seán and let Lily, who’d be far more of an asset, join in the work to be done in The Lane. That would be the best use of everyone.

  “I’ll be on my way.” Betty had no idea what was going on. She’d go take care of the chore set before her, drop off her packages and return to find out what the commotion was all about.

  Her departure went unnoticed by the crowd of people willingly pulling decades of wild scrub from the ground. This sudden explosion of activity gave the people something to do together – and helped them stay warm on a cold day. There was much shouting back and forward while the crowd got stuck in.

  “Mrs Wiggins, look!” Bitsy Martin pointed with a shaking finger towards the naked red-brick wall being slowly exposed.

  Everyone stopped to stare – unable to believe what their eyes were telling them. Almost as one the fascinated crowd of women and children followed after some of Jem’s lads as they walked towards the wall they’d uncovered. The hole Seán had made to climb inside and hide clearly showed.

  “In the name of all that’s good and holy!” Marcella and her workers stood staring at the newly revealed wall. “Get back, everyone!” she suddenly shouted. “That wall could come down on our heads. We need experienced men and more hands than ours to handle this.”

  Chapter 31

  While the excitement went on outside, Ivy and Jem were staring open-mouthed at the map Ann Marie had spread on the wonky table in the tearoom.

  “I ask your sacred pardon,” Ivy gasped.

  Jem, standing at her shoulder, was still as a statue, his mind refusing to believe what his eyes were seeing.

  “As I’ve always thought,” Ann Marie’s well-manicured finger traced over the map, “there is another entrance to this building. It never made sense to me that a throughway from side to side of the livery did not exist.”

  Her words were wasted on her listeners. They were having a difficult time understanding these startling new developments.

  Jem, without a word to anyone and walking like someone in a daze, left the two women and walked slowly over to his tack room. He reappeared in moments, a large mallet and what looked like an iron spike in his hands.

  Exchanging glances, Ivy and Ann Marie hurried after him. Ivy stood for a moment in the long wide aisle that divided two sections of the long livery building, looking at the familiar wide-open double doors. She gave her body a shake and hurried over to stand at Ann Marie’s shoulder and watch Jem force the iron spike – with powerful swings of the mallet – through what they had assumed was a solid brick wall.

  “I’ve chalked and whitewashed this wall for years.” The sound of Jem’s grunts and the groaning from the large hole he was making were almost smothered by the restless movements of the horses in their stalls. “This section isn’t bricks at all but daubing.” He recognised the wattle and daub material – Lord knew he’d made enough of these walls in his time. He pulled handfuls of old material from the newly created hole. “It was well done – you would never see the difference once the wall had been daubed and whitened.”

  According to the map they’d just been examining there was a second opening to the livery directly opposite the entrance they all knew. It was hard to believe. Jem grunted and muttered, straining
to remove a section of the age-old materials, as the two women looked on wordlessly.

  “That’s about as much as I want to do now.” Jem stood back, panting, covered in white dust and pieces of straw. “If your maps are right, Ann Marie, and there is an entrance hidden behind this lot – I’ll need men and tools before I can open up a section of my back wall.”

  “I reckon if there really is another entryway it was blocked up long before any of us was ever born.” John Lawless had come to see what was upsetting the horses. He’d rolled his wheelchair silently up behind them.

  “This place has been blocked off for years. We need to know what’s behind this wall before we go any further. I need to make a hole big enough for me to be able to look through. First I’m going to get a sheet of wood we can use to cover the hole afterwards.”

  Jem turned and walked slowly across the width of his livery, past the double rows of stalls, on either side of the main aisle, some holding curious horses standing with their heads over the half doors. He was having a hard time believing the evidence of his own eyes. His world was being turned on its head. Still, you had to deal with what life threw at you. He probably had a sheet of wood in his tack room he could use.