by Anna King
The only damper was having to return to the hovel they’d occupied for the past months. In that time they had grown accustomed to the filthy conditions, grateful only that they had a roof of sorts over their heads. Now they were clean, it was doubly difficult for them to lie on the stained, damp mattress. But, as Micky had told Molly, it was either that or sleep standing up until they could afford decent accommodation. When Molly had fallen asleep, Micky counted the money he had left by the light of their last remaining candle, which reminded him he would have to buy some more tomorrow. Which also meant forking out more money. Sighing softly he removed the loose brick. Keeping sixpence back, he placed the rest of the money in his secret hideaway, a satisfied smile on his lips. Even with the visit to the baths and the new clothes plus the fish and chip supper, he still had almost six shillings left, thanks to the generosity of the market traders. Grimacing with distaste, Micky forced himself to lie down beside Molly. If he knew for sure how long they could remain here, he would do his best to make the place habitable. Second-hand furniture and bedding could be bought reasonably cheaply if you weren’t that fussy. And anything would be better than their current living conditions.
The long day started to creep up on him, his eyes becoming heavier despite his efforts to stay awake. He wanted to make plans for tomorrow, but his tired body had other ideas.
His last conscious thought was of Ellen Mitson as he wondered if she had remembered his plea to ask around in search of a permanent job for him. He doubted she would have found anything for him yet. After all, he had only asked her this morning. Still, there was no harm in going to the bakery to enquire. Also he was anxious for the baker’s wife to see him in his new finery. His face flushed in the darkness and with an angry shrug of his shoulders, he muttered, ‘Soppy sod.’ Blowing out the candle he turned on his side and let sleep overtake him.
Chapter Six
It was a bright, sunlit day and Ellen was preparing to go shopping. The reason for her expedition was double-edged. She normally did her weekly shopping down Well Street market, but today, as she had for the past month, she was going to Hoxton instead. Passing through the bakery she stopped to speak to Agnes. ‘I won’t be too long, Agnes. Is there anything I can get you while I’m out?’
Agnes, in the process of serving a customer, looked up and, in a pleasant tone, said, ‘No thanks, Ellen. I got my shopping yesterday.’
Buttoning up her light blue, three-quarter-length coat, Ellen said, ‘Are you sure you can cope, Agnes? After all, Saturday is our busiest day.’
Agnes passed over a large crusty loaf to the bemused customer, whose face was etched in surprise at the friendly chatter between the two women who were normally at each other’s throats. After all, half the fun of coming to this bakery was listening to Ellen and Agnes trade insults. Yet even though, on the surface at least, the women appeared to have patched up their differences, there was an undeniable air of tension, as if they were merely playacting.
‘Don’t yer worry about me,’ said Agnes. ‘I can cope fine on me own. You ’ave a nice day, an’ don’t worry about rushing back. After all, the trams’ll be packed. You’d be better off going ter Well Street, but if yer’ve taken to going ter Hoxton, you’ll ’ave ter fight yer way onto the tram. Couldn’t be bothered meself. Still, I expect yer want ter see how young Micky’s getting on now Ted Parker’s given him a job.’
Feeling her cheeks growing hot, Ellen pulled on a pair of cotton gloves, adjusted her straw hat and said lightly, ‘Well, yes, I am interested in how Micky’s getting on, but Hoxton’s a much bigger market than Well Street, and besides, it’s nice to have a change of scenery now and then.’
Agnes nodded sagely. ‘’Course it is, love. You get off now, and enjoy yer day… Oh, by the way, your hair looks much better hanging loose; takes years off yer.’
Ellen nodded, a fresh rush of blood staining her cheeks, then held the door open for the customer, her sharp eyes noting the curiosity mirrored in her face. But she wasn’t going to waste time gossiping, especially as whatever she said would be elaborated on. With a pleasant ‘Good day, Mrs Stone’ Ellen walked towards the tram stop, her nose sniffing the warm, spring air. It was amazing how the arrival of spring, with its warm weather and longer days, could lift one’s spirits.
Stepping out quickly, Ellen was lucky to catch a tram straight away. As it was now ten-thirty, the morning rush was over and Ellen found herself with a choice of seats. Skipping up the circular stairs, she flopped down on a wooden, slatted bench, her gaze centred on the street below and the people going about their daily business on this fine day.
Once she had paid her fare, she was left alone with her thoughts and as she recalled the events of the past month, a tender smile came to her lips.
Not only had Ted Parker given Micky a trial run, starting with one day a week, Micky had impressed Ted so much that he now employed the young boy four days a week. And the change in Micky was nothing short of a miracle.
That first day he had come into the shop, wearing his long trousers and thick jacket, his face a mixture of self-consciousness and pride, Ellen’s heart had gone out to the boy who was trying so hard to make an impression. Even Agnes had made a kind comment about Micky’s appearance, causing the young boy to look at her suspiciously, as had Ellen, especially as it was only the previous day that Agnes had tried her best to make trouble between her and Arthur. If it hadn’t been for Nora Parker’s intervention, Ellen’s moment of recklessness in waylaying Ted, which had been perfectly innocent, could easily have turned into a very nasty situation.
The following day Ellen had braced herself for further remarks, and had been taken aback when Agnes had arrived at her normal time and, for the first time since Ellen had known the woman, had greeted Ellen with a smile and a pleasant ‘Good morning’. Then Micky had arrived, and he too had been greeted in the same vein. Ellen and Micky had exchanged bemused glances, and Ellen was trying to think up some small job for Micky to do when Ted had entered the shop and offered Micky a day’s work on his stall down Hoxton Market. Ellen could still remember the look on Micky’s face as he glanced from Ellen to Ted, not wanting to let Ellen down, but desperate for the chance of a real job. Ellen could also remember the joy that had spread over Micky’s handsome features when she had told him there wasn’t any work for him that day and to go along with Ted. He would break a few hearts, would Micky, when he got older. In fact he was already charming the women and girls that frequented Hoxton Market.
For the past month Ellen had visited Hoxton every Saturday and for the life of her she didn’t know who she most liked seeing, Micky or Ted.
Taking a deep, satisfying breath of air, Ellen relaxed against the wooden seat. Everything seemed to be going well in her life and for that reason alone she felt a slight shiver of apprehension. Her misgivings centred solely on Agnes’ sudden change of character. Not suspicious by nature, Ellen had been trying her utmost to establish a fresh acquaintance with the new, amiable side of Agnes, but it was hard going.
Then she shrugged impatiently. What was she worrying about? Maybe she was wrong and Agnes really had turned over a new leaf. According to Arthur, Agnes had once been a friendly, pleasant woman. He hadn’t added that Agnes had only changed since their marriage; he hadn’t needed to, that much had been evident. But maybe Agnes had accepted the situation and was now finally trying to make amends for her surly behaviour since Ellen had arrived at the bakery.
Her stop approaching, Ellen got to her feet, then, gripping the iron rail, she carefully descended the twisting stairs to the safety of the platform.
Joining the bustling crowd, Ellen made her way to Ted’s stall, her stomach churning as it always did when she was about to see the man who had helped turn her life around. For if she hadn’t bumped into him on that fraught morning, she would probably have returned home, still angry and frustrated, her minor triumph over the coal delivery soon paling into insignificance. Instead, something in Ted’s character had brought out qual
ities in her she hadn’t known she possessed. She had begun the slow process of growing into adulthood, her inner strength already coming to the fore. But since making a friend of Ted, she had found herself growing stronger each day. In an ironic twist of fate Ellen was following in her husband’s footsteps. For where Arthur’s life had revolved around his weekly visits to her parents’ house, so was Ellen’s life revolving around her weekly visit to Hoxton Market – and Ted. Approaching the fruit and vegetable stall, Ellen’s face broke into a wide smile as she heard Micky shouting out to the passing crowd as if he’d been working the market all his life.
Standing back a pace so Micky wouldn’t know she was watching him, Ellen looked on fondly, thinking as she did so how much Micky had changed from that first meeting when he had appeared outside the bakery, a bedraggled, filthy urchin who, even in dire need, had refused to take charity. Most people, Agnes for instance, would have quickly shown the young boy the door, or even called the police and turned him in for begging, a practice the police frowned on. But Ellen had seen past Micky’s outward appearance to the dignity and character that lurked beneath his ragged apparel. And she had been proved right. She soon spotted Ted who had been hidden from her view by the large crowd. Unconsciously she adjusted her straw hat and flicked a long, thick strand of chestnut brown hair over her shoulder before walking towards the stall.
Ted was talking and laughing with two women, while at the same time filling brown bags with items of fruit and vegetables. One of the women was flirting openly with Ted, who was obviously enjoying every moment of the attractive woman’s attention. The sight caused Ellen’s stomach to constrict as if she’d been physically punched. All her earlier elation vanishing, Ellen, her heart thumping, her throat tight, turned to go. Then Micky spotted her.
‘Oi, Ellen, hello. Ain’t yer gonna buy anything today?’
Caught out, Ellen was forced to approach the stall, a tremulous smile on her lips. ‘Hello, Micky. I was going to have a look around first, but don’t worry I’ll be back later to get my usual order.’
Micky grinned. ‘I’ll get it ready fer yer, Ellen. Then yer can pick it up when you’ve finished looking round. Or I could drop it off on me way ’ome tonight; save yer carrying it all the way back home on the tram, won’t it?’
‘Thanks, Micky, that’s kind of you. I might take you up on that offer,’ Ellen said, her eyes flickering towards Ted, who was still enjoying the flirtatious banter with the two women.
Following her gaze, Micky’s smile faltered. Pushing back his flat cap, he called out over-loudly, ‘’Ere, Ted, Ellen’s here.’
Immediately Ted turned away from the hovering women, the grin on his lips widening. Teasingly he said to the woman who was practically draping herself over his body, ‘See yer next week, darling. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.’
The blonde woman smiled brazenly. ‘Don’t leave much fer me ter do then, does it, Ted?’
Her face burning, Ellen fiddled nervously with the clasp of her leather bag. Then she looked at the woman and her spirits lifted once again. For the woman was looking daggers at her and Ellen, knowing her presence had caused a pique of jealousy, felt a surge of confidence.
‘Hello, love.’ Ted’s deep, throaty voice brought the smile back to Ellen’s face. Especially as he had dismissed the two women in favour of her company. ‘Managed to get away from the sweat shop then?’ He leant nearer, his body almost touching hers, sending a delicious shiver of delight down her spine. Then his hand reached out and touched the long, shining chestnut hair, adding softly, ‘I prefer your hair like this. That other style didn’t suit you at all, made yer look like an old married woman.’
Ellen’s smile wavered. ‘Well, I am, aren’t I? Well…’ She laughed self-consciously. ‘Not exactly old, but I am married.’
Ted leant his head back as if to get a better view, then, his voice sombre, he said, ‘Yeah, I know. I’m reminded of it every time I walk past the bakery.’
Her eyes met his and, for a brief few seconds, their gazes locked. Then someone pushed past them and the spell was broken.
Embarrassed by the chemistry that flowed between them and anxious to get the conversation back on a safer level, Ellen looked over at Micky and asked, ‘How’s Micky getting on?’
Following her gaze, and knowing what she was feeling, Ted replied, ‘He’s a natural. I admit I only gave him a chance as a favour to you, but it’s turned out the other way round. I’ve lost count of the boys I’ve had working for me over the years, hoping I’d find someone reliable and honest, so I could set up another stall at one of the other markets. And with Petticoat Lane on Sunday morning, I could make a lot of money. But none of ’em was any good; well, not so much that, but there wasn’t any I could have trusted to run me stall without me keeping an eye on ’em. Now I think I might just ’ave found the right bloke – ’ere, just listen to him.’
Ellen turned her attention to Micky, smiling fondly as she heard him shouting out to the crowd with all the confidence of a grown man. ‘Come on, ladies, yer won’t find anything better than this stall if yer looking fer fresh fruit and veg.’
An elderly woman was busily inspecting a pile of oranges. ‘These fresh, are they, mate? I don’t wanna get ’ome and find ’em as dry as me old man’s throat on a Saturday night.’
‘Fresh?’ Micky picked up an orange and threw it in the air. Catching the large piece of fruit he said loudly, ‘Picked ’em meself from an orchard in Kent at five o’clock this morning.’
The woman grinned, showing more gums than teeth. ‘Yer cheeky devil. Go on then, I’ll ’ave three, not that I believe a word of what yer say, but yer deserve a sale fer yer cheek.’
Deftly depositing three large oranges in the woman’s shopping basket, Micky added, ‘What about some nice juicy apples ter go with ’em?’
Fishing around in her purse the woman looked at Micky with a twinkle in her eye. ‘I suppose yer picked those fresh this morning an’ all?’
Micky winked, his cherubic face a picture of innocence. ‘’Course I did. I wouldn’t lie ter a nice lady-like yerself, now would I?’
Chuckling loudly the woman nodded. ‘All right, lad, I’ll ’ave a couple.’ Again Micky had the apples in her basket before she could change her mind. But he wasn’t finished yet. Knowing he was being watched by his new boss and Ellen, Micky, anxious to make a good impression, took the woman’s money saying quickly, ‘Flow about a bit of veg, love? Can’t ’ave a good roast Sunday dinner without veg, can yer?’
Thoroughly enjoying the banter, the woman turned to another customer waiting to be served and cackled, ‘Cheeky little beggar, ain’t he? An’ handsome into the bargain. Gawd, if I was 30 years younger I’d put a smile on yer face that’d last fer a week. Go on, I’ll ’ave a cauli and half a pound of Brussels and that’s me lot, mate. Yer’ll ’ave me skint at this rate.’
Ellen and Ted exchanged amused glances, glances that were tinged with pride. As they were shoved once again, Ted, his eyes twinkling mischievously said, ‘Look, we can’t stand ’ere, we’ll be trampled. How about ’aving a bit of lunch with me? I was gonna go for me dinner about now anyway.’
Ellen hesitated. There was nothing she would like more than to spend time in this man’s company, but she was treading on dangerous ground. Then her head came up defiantly. Why shouldn’t she enjoy herself? After all, nothing could come of her association with Ted. It wasn’t as if she was planning to have an affair with the man. Even as the thought crossed her mind, an image floated before her eyes and such was the nature of her thoughts she blushed as if she had spoken her deepest secrets out loud. ‘Thank you, Ted. I’d like that very much. Will Micky be all right on his own?’
Ted gave a hearty laugh. ‘Get on with you. Ain’t I just been telling yer how pleased I am with him? ‘’Course he’ll be all right.’ Taking hold of her arm he bent down and whispered in her ear, ‘I suppose you know the lad’s got a crush on you, poor little bleeder. Still, he’ll get over it in time. At h
is age I was always falling in love with a different girl every week. Mind you, it’s a different kettle of fish if it happens when you’re older.’
Deliberately ignoring the last comment, Ellen’s eyes darted to where Micky had a queue of women waiting to be served. Startled, she said, ‘Don’t be silly. He’s just a boy and I’m a married woman.’
Ted snorted, ‘You don’t have to keep reminding me you’re married. As for Micky, he’s nearly fifteen, and you’re not much older… Look, let’s go and get something to eat, ’cos if one more person pushes me I’ll land ’em one.’ His disarming smile was evidence he would do no such thing. Then without warning he put his arm around her shoulder pulling her tight to his side, the sudden action sending a jolt through her entire body. For a second, a picture of Arthur swam before her eyes, but she instantly dismissed him from her mind. She wasn’t doing anything wrong, she kept reminding herself, as she allowed Ted to lead her through the busy market towards a pub on the corner.
She was still telling herself the same thing when she emerged from the pub, slightly tipsy from the large gin and tonic she had swallowed without thinking. Not used to alcohol, the beverage had gone straight to her head.
Ted, amused at first, had become concerned at the thought of Ellen travelling home on her own in the state she was in, especially as it was his fault. Sitting her down on a bench outside the pub, he went back to the stall and told Micky he was taking Ellen home and would be back as soon as possible.
On the journey home, Ellen leant against Ted’s side, revelling in the close, intimate contact of the man she was falling in love with…
Arriving at the bakery, Ted, his face troubled, now said, ‘You’d better go in the back way and have a lie down before anyone sees you.’
Ellen giggled. ‘Don’t care if they do. I’ve had a wonderful day, well worth a telling off for. Thanks, Ted.’ Fumbling in her bag for her key Ellen stumbled. Ted’s arms came out circling her waist. The giggle that was forming instantly died as she stared up into the intense eyes, for once holding no trace of mockery.