Ha'Penny Chance (Ivy Rose Series Book 2)

by Gemma Jackson

  “Is that hay?” Ivy put out her hand to touch the stalks sticking out of the wall.

  “I wouldn’t,” John Lawless snapped. “I’m no expert, you understand, but from my reading I think I learned that daub was made with urine-soaked straw and manure. You might want to wait for Jem to get back.”

  “I should have known your curiosity would be killing you, Ivy Murphy.” Jem came up behind them. Two lads followed him with a sheet of wood and a handful of tools. “Stand back.”

  He used the iron spike to break through the wattling and daub, trying to carve out a space as large as a window. It was dusty work and clouds almost smothered him. He pushed the decaying materials out through the hole in front of him. When he was finished he put the tools to one side and cautiously stuck his head and shoulders through the hole he’d made.

  “Dear merciful Lord!” Jem pushed back into the livery and simply stood staring with his mouth agape.

  “What did you see?” Ivy rushed forward and pushed her head and shoulders through just as Jem had done. She hung there, simply staring at the strange world in front of her. The area in front of the newly opened window appeared to be long and wide. As far as she could make out it stretched the entire length of the livery and then some. The area was a tangled wilderness that had lain undiscovered for many years.

  “I believe,” Ann Marie almost whispered when she too had taken a glimpse through the newly opened ‘window’, “that what we have uncovered is the original front entrance of the livery.”

  “Jaysus, Jem, how did we never know that place existed?” Ivy gasped. “All the times me and me brothers ran in and out of your place. Through all the years and all the kids over all those years, kids who climbed and played around the livery. How the feck did we never see this? It’s like the secret garden from that story.”

  “It’s a mystery all right.” Jem took Ivy’s hand and they stood, silently staring and wondering, for a moment. It would be a lot of dirty work removing that daub wall and he would need something to cover the opening – a carpenter to cut doors if it turned out that this was really another entrance to his business. He’d need to know a lot more before he could go any further.

  “Let us get your lads to cover this opening back up for the moment,” Ann Marie suggested. “We need to examine another of the maps I’ve had sent to me. I really believe we have more yet to discover.”

  While Jem, Ivy and Ann Marie tried to remove the dust from their clothing, John sat in his chair and instructed the two lads who were grunting and struggling to cover the hole in the wall. He waited until it was finished to his satisfaction before sending the two lads about their business.

  “Right.” Ivy wiped her hands together to remove the dust. “I need a pot of tea before any more news that’s going to take me breath away.” She took the handles of John’s wheelchair and began to push. “What about anyone else?”

  “You and your tea, Ivy Murphy!” John looked over his shoulder to grin at her. He didn’t mind being given a helping hand now and again.

  “Wait, Ivy! There’s more!” said Ann Marie.

  “More?” said Jem. “You mean there was something else of importance in my uncle’s papers?” He shook his head, remembering Ann Marie sitting in his stable studying the papers he’d given her.

  “No, Jem – in fact there was nothing about the second entrance in your uncle’s papers. I found mention of it in one of the articles I received in the post today. I didn’t know what else I’d find so I took the time to examine everything before I came over to share the news with you. And I discovered more! Drum roll, please!” She rolled her arms in glee, shaking her hands in a phantom drum roll. “The area that your Mr Wilson claims as his own is, in fact, a public byway according to the papers – delivered to me today – that have been buried in a dusty government archive somewhere for years!” Ann Marie shook her head and grinned. “I need to spend more time looking at the maps but there was mention made of tunnels being blocked up by the British in order to keep what they called ‘undesirable elements’ from coming and going freely.” She giggled. “I think you would be among those undesirables.”

  “Uncle Jem, I’m home!” Emmy Ryan shouted as she ran into the livery. “I have to change quick and get back out – what have we to eat? – there’s something going on in The Lane, did you know?” She hadn’t even paused for breath. “Auntie Ivy! Ann Marie! Mr Lawless!” Emmy grinned widely at them as they began to walk towards her but she didn’t stop her movements, swinging her schoolbag off her shoulders and onto the floor. “Do you know – did you see?” She waved one arm back towards the opening.

  “Dear Lord,” Jem shoved his hands through his hair, “is it that time already?”

  “Now then, folks,” Marcella Wiggins walked into the livery, “I’ve the women setting up the fires and tables and things but the time got away from us and there’s not bit, bite nor sup for the childer coming home from school. There was mention made of a run to the Penny Dinners?”

  “What’s going on?” Conn, returning from a message run, stopped his bike and simply sat there on the saddle, staring around. “What’s happening down the way?”

  “My nerves are shot,” Jem declared dramatically.

  “Time to gird your loins, Jem, me auld flower.” John Lawless grinned widely. “I’ll put the kettle on.” He began to roll his wheelchair towards the tearoom. “Them lads better have left plenty of fresh water in the buckets or there will be wigs on the green.”

  “Me stomach thinks me throat is slit, I’m that hungry, Jem,” Ivy admitted.

  “We need to study the other maps, Jem,” Ann Marie said softly.

  “Right!” Jem shouted, feeling under siege. “Emmy, run up and change out of your school clothes. Take your bag up with you – it doesn’t belong in the middle of my stables.” He pushed his shoulders back when the little girl ran to obey. “Conn, keep the bicycle out – we need you to make a run to the Penny Dinners – Ann Marie has offered to pay. You might need to take someone with you – it will be a lot of grub. What else needs doing?” He seemed to be asking the air around him.

  It was dark now but it seemed every man, woman and child living in The Lane was still out in the courtyard. Tables had been pulled out of homes and the party fires burned brightly, giving additional light. The hungry crowd were diving into the stew from the Penny Dinners. The sound of enamel plates being scraped clean could be heard echoing around.

  With the help of Ann Marie’s many maps two new tunnel entrances into The Lane had been discovered. The Lane was buzzing with the news. It would change all of their lives. The work on completely clearing the ground before the first tunnel had gone swiftly when the working men returned home with their tools. While Ivy and Jem were busy organising the food supply for the crowd, Ann Marie had taken Nat Taylor, a skilled carpenter, with her to examine the two sites she’d discovered on the ordinance map. Together they had examined the newly exposed entrance to the tunnel that Seán had discovered. They had then turned their attention across the entire length of the square to a wall the children used for playing ball. Nat with Ann Marie and a curious crowd at his back had walked over to the wall and with a few heavy blows of a borrowed sledgehammer he’d knocked several red bricks from the wall, revealing a second hidden tunnel.

  There was a great deal of work still to be done but the workers had stopped to eat. The women had big black kettles of water boiling over specially constructed hangers on each bin fire. The need for a constant supply of tea was in hand. The skilled labourers among the men were at one table, plotting the best use of the labour to hand and the jobs that needed doing. The people of The Lane were determined to get both tunnel entrances cleared and ready to use before a new day had dawned.

  Chapter 32

  “Well, this is nice.” Ann Marie put her arm through Ivy’s. “I’m glad you asked me to come along with you today.”

  They were coming from a visit to the College Green bank where Ivy, with Ann Marie’s silent sup
port, had questioned the bank teller. She’d established that, yes, she would be able to use the night safe of the bank on the corner of Grafton Street and King Street. She was snootily informed that it was a branch office of her bank. To her relief she’d learned she’d also be able to make future deposits at the Grafton Street bank. A lot of street vendors used that branch of the bank, she knew. She wouldn’t feel so out of place in her old army coat in the less ornate bank building.

  Ivy was still nervous about walking into the bank on College Green. She kept expecting to be kicked out for even daring to set foot into that august establishment. Having Ann Marie by her side relieved a lot of the social pressure she felt stepping into the place. The people in the bank almost fell over themselves trying to be of service to Miss Gannon.

  “I’m glad we didn’t bring the automobile.” Ann Marie sighed. “It’s so pleasant to walk along the city streets.”

  “Ann Marie, it’s an education watching you in action.” Ivy looked at her friend who was wrapped from head to toe in fur and thought it was well for her. She couldn’t feel the sharp bite of the wind slicing into everything it passed.

  “I want to stop by the Gaiety Theatre booking office, Ivy.”

  “Fine!” Ivy was wearing her good tweed suit, her best boots and a hat that had once belonged to Granny that Ivy had battered into shape. The thick handknit scarf and gloves kept her warm but the wind seemed to find every break in the thread. Hopefully the tall buildings of Grafton Street would reduce the wind factor considerably.

  The two women strolled along College Green, avoiding the shouts and demands of the street hawkers. The clip-clop of the passing horses was soothing to Ivy’s ears. From time to time one of the jarveys would raise his hat to the two women.

  The Trinity College students were easily identified. They strolled along, heads close together, discussing the serious business of changing the world. The lack of redcoated soldiers, even after several years of absence, was a relief. The city had a different feeling to it these days.

  “I thought we were going to stop for coffee at Bewleys?” Ivy remarked as they approached the elegant Grafton Street exterior to the coffee shop.

  “I’d prefer to visit the Gaiety booking office first, if you don’t mind? I’ll be able to relax when I’ve that chore completed.”

  “That’s fine with me.” Ivy refused to think of the packages sitting unopened on her work table at home. The stuff she got from her rounds was going nowhere. It would wait until she was ready to deal with it. Ivy was forcing herself to learn that she didn’t have to do everything alone and instantly. The world wouldn’t end if she took the occasional day off.

  The two women continued to stroll along Grafton Street, stopping from time to time when an item in a shop window attracted their attention. Ivy sometimes felt as if she was standing outside of herself looking at her own figure strolling along this street with the nobs. She was living two lives. She was finding both lifestyles suited her.

  They turned onto King Street and walked in the direction of the Gaiety.

  “I want to look at the billboard, Ann Marie,” Ivy said when the two women stood on the street outside the Gaiety Theatre. “I didn’t get a chance to see anything the other night but I heard enough. The women were sighing over that fella who’s going to play Prince Charming. I’d like to be sure of the starting date and time as well.” Ivy had checked the newspaper advertisement for the show but it didn’t hurt to be sure. She was still having nightmares about her failure to sell as many dolls as she’d expected at the gala evening. That had been a bruising setback but she was determined to apply herself – and succeed.

  “I shouldn’t be too long.” Ann Marie was glad Ivy wasn’t about to accompany her inside the theatre building. She’d telephoned ahead. She intended to purchase the use of a theatre box, over a period of several days, perhaps for the Christmas Season. She wanted to be able to invite Jem and Ivy and some of her other friends from The Lane to join her in an evening at the theatre. She knew the cost of such an extravagant gesture would horrify Ivy.

  The women separated. Ann Marie walked through the door being held open by a uniformed doorman. Ivy made her way towards the tall billboard with its information and glossy black-and-white photographs arranged to catch the attention. The thrill of knowing she was capable of reading whatever might be written there brought a wide smile to her face.

  Doug Joyce, Johnjo Smith at his side, strolled along King Street. He wanted to arrive at the theatre early. He’d had some new music by an unknown writer delivered directly to the theatre for him to study. He found it easier to concentrate on new tunes when he had a piano available to him. The bustling noise of the theatre energised him. If the music pleased him he’d buy it and add his own topical lyrics before using the music in his act.

  “It’s Her Ladyship!” Johnjo Smith barked suddenly. He grabbed Doug by the elbow, stopping his forward movement.

  “What?” Doug had been so lost in his own thoughts it took him a moment to process what his friend had said. “Where?”

  “There.” Johnjo pointed rudely at the tall woman staring so intently at the billboard. “Are you blind?”

  “Where? I don’t see her,” Doug knew Johnjo intensely disliked the woman he called Her Ladyship but this was the first time he’d ever imagined seeing her in the street.

  “She’s standing right in front of the billboard,” Johnjo said. He wanted to grab his friend and run.

  “That’s not my mother,” Doug almost whispered, suddenly white to his lips. If it wasn’t his mother it could only be one other. “Ivy?” He had to cough to clear the lump that threatened to cut off his breathing. “Ivy?”

  Ann Marie was waiting for her payment to be processed and her reservation docket to be written out. Rather than staying to watch the clerk work she walked over to stand behind the glass doors of the main entrance to the theatre. She saw the two well-dressed men stroll into view. Their disparate appearance amused her. Their differences were almost comic-book perfect. One man tall, slim and blond, the other shorter, muscled and dark. Although both were dressed expensively the blond man wore his clothes with a casual elegant perfection. The shorter dark man looked like a bad-tempered boy forced to dress in his Sunday best. She wished desperately she’d bought that box Brownie camera as she’d promised herself. This was an image she’d love to capture. She determined to purchase a camera that very day.

  She was curious when the two men stopped in their tracks. She looked up and down King Street, trying to see what had attracted their attention. She didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. She realised with a start that she knew the identity of one of the men. The incredibly handsome blond man was Douglas Joyce. His handsome face had been featured on almost a daily basis in the newspapers. She assumed the shorter man was a bodyguard. He possessed the build of a pugilist.

  Douglas Joyce, Ann Marie knew, was making a name for himself in Dublin society. He was becoming known as a man of mystery, a much-sought-after individual. Every hostess in Dublin longed to be the one who managed to attract him to one of her social events.

  Then Ann Marie realised the two men were staring at Ivy who was studying the billboard, lost in a world of her own.

  “Ivy!” the blond man called loudly.

  Ann Marie felt almost as if she were a silent witness to a train wreck. She saw Ivy’s head turn in the direction of the two men. Her heart broke for her friend Jem Ryan when she saw the expression on Ivy’s face. She’d never looked at Jem like that. Ivy looked as if she’d seen the face of a god, something otherworldly. Her entire face lit up. The smile that creased her face illuminated her with an almost blinding beauty.

  “Shay!” Ivy forgot all decorum as she flung herself at her brother. She didn’t care who was looking on. This was her baby brother, come home to her.

  The force of Ivy’s hug knocked Doug’s hat from his head – neither noticed Johnjo catch the hat before it hit the ground. Only the hatpins stuck firmly into Ivy�
��s hat saved it from hitting the ground too. The man and woman stood in the street hugging each other tightly, their aligned bodies swaying in place. They were completely unaware of the fascinated people that strolled slowly past, trying to get a good look at these goings-on.

  “Ivy, I need to breathe now,” Doug Joyce croaked. His sister had her arms wrapped so tightly around his neck he was in danger of suffocating.

  Ivy stepped back slightly. She took her brother’s face in her two hands and stood staring up at this familiar stranger, completely enthralled to see the passage of time written so clearly on his handsome face.

  “Shay Murphy, where have you been?”

  “So many places, Ivy.” Doug looked down at the woman who had been his true mother ever since his seventh birthday. Ivy’s phantom voice in his ear over the years had egged him on, encouraged him whenever he faltered. She’d been his guardian angel most of his life.

  “What, you broke all your fingers?” Ivy wanted to wrap Shay up in cotton wool and take him home with her. “Is that why you never wrote to me?”

  “You can’t . . .” Doug glanced around. He wouldn’t shame her by mentioning her illiteracy.

  “I can now.” Ivy grinned in proud delight.

  “Well, well, well, Miss Murphy, you’ve certainly come up in the world.” Doug took her glove-encased hands from his face and pushed her gently away from him. Still holding her two hands in his, he stood examining every inch of her fashionably attired figure.

  “Shay, you’re here – in Dublin. Why didn’t yeh come home? Yeh know yer always welcome. Did yeh hear about me da?” She hated to start this first meeting after years with sadness – but this needed to be said.