“I want to do a trade.” Ivy knew the coat and dress she’d taken from Emerald would cover the cost of most of the things she’d taken from the stall.
“Yeh must be pretty sure of what yeh’ve got.” Maggie didn’t only sell from her stall. She had private customers who paid over the odds for some of her stuff.
“Come over here and have a look.” Ivy pulled the cover off her pram. She’d arranged Emerald’s outfit on top. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Maggie’s mouth almost drop open at the quality of the outfit she was offering. The two women began bartering, both determined to get the best deal.
“Are yeh going to trade in them boots?” Maggie wanted to rub her hands together. Her family would eat well for a week with what she’d make off the outfit she’d just bargained for. Ivy Murphy might have been trading for years but she didn’t know what some people would pay to make their kids look good. This little lot would see her laughing. Maggie wanted the boots but it wouldn’t do to cut into another stallholder’s trade.
“Yeah, I’m going to see Bill Burn next,” Ivy said. The shoe trader, whose true name nobody knew, had been badly burned as a baby. His nickname of Bill Burn was typical Dublin humour. Ivy knew Maggie would be across the market like a shot. The woman wanted the boots but the two traders could sort it out amongst themselves.
Ivy left the market fighting to keep the wide satisfied grin off her face. She’d traded Emerald’s outfit and boots for three complete changes of clothes that would fit the young girl. She’d managed to get slippers and sturdy shoes in trade for the boots that had cut Emerald’s feet so badly. Ivy knew the two traders thought they’d put one over on her but she was thrilled with her finds. Emerald would have something to wear until Ivy could make her more clothes.
Ivy’s pram wasn’t empty. She’d done a brisk trade in the used clothing she’d brought with her today. She’d stocked up on dried foodstuffs. She’d managed to find barely used sheets to cover the brass bed. There was no way she was using the aunt’s sheets for her bed. The quality of them sheets was too fine for the likes of her. Ivy sighed in contentment. All in all a good morning’s work.
She walked through the back streets of Dublin, an invisible figure, one of many women pushing prams and plying trade. She exchanged a grin and a shouted remark with the street traders. She passed women pushing prams piled with fruit, vegetables, fish, flowers and penny tin toys – in some cases with a couple of children pushed into the prams with the offerings. Ivy knew these women and they knew her. The street traders were a tough bunch. If they thought Ivy was muscling in on their territory they’d scratch her baldheaded.
Ivy was worried. She had money stashed all over the place. The money she’d made from the sale of her hair was a fortune to Ivy – add in the money she got for her da’s corpse and she was really loaded. She was running out of safe places to stash her loot. The difference in her takings in the weeks since her da had been gone frightened her. She didn’t know what to do with her cash.
At Kevin’s Hospital Ivy parked her oversized pram alongside the other ones tied up in the cement shed used for bikes and prams. She changed her shoes and stockings in the shed. She couldn’t do anything about the state of her coat. Ivy sighed. Ann Marie would just have to take her as she found her.
She’d made a bundle of her purchases and paid one of the stallholders to tie everything up in a brown-paper-and-string parcel. She removed this from the pram and with the bundle in hand began to stroll towards the morgue.
“Ivy, can we go for a stroll around the hospital grounds?” Ann Marie wanted to spend more time with Ivy. Today was the last day they would be able to share lunch here in her office. Ann Marie didn’t want to lose touch with Ivy but where on earth could they meet in the future? Ivy refused to allow her to step into what she called ‘The Lane’.
“Sure yeh want to be seen in public with me?” Ivy didn’t know what Ann Marie wanted with her but an unusual friendship was developing between them and she’d hate to lose that now. The meals they’d shared here in the morgue office had been richer than anything she’d ever tasted before in her life. The talks the two women had, entertained her and made her think. “I’m not leaving off me coat and freezing me parts off for yeh.”
“Don’t be silly!” Ann Marie stood and stepped away from her desk. She’d tidy up later. Ivy didn’t know it but all the cheeses, roast meats and tarts they ate came from the kitchen of Ann Marie’s aunt’s house. Ann Marie would pack the dishes and cutlery back into the wicker basket when she returned from their walk. There was no food left over. There never was, no matter how much food Ann Marie brought with her.
“I need to stretch my legs, that’s all.” Ann Marie was unaware of Ivy minutely examining the hip-length coat she pulled over her long tweed work skirt.
“Fine with me.” Ivy shrugged and they left the office.
Ivy was astonished when the glamorous woman linked her arm through hers. “Ann Marie? What are you going to do with yourself when you finish up here?” Ivy jerked her chin back towards the hospital.
“I’m not really sure.”
Ann Marie wasn’t being completely truthful. Ivy Murphy was introducing her to a world she had never known existed and she desperately wanted to be a part of that life. She knew she had things she could offer – not only money, though she certainly had that – but knowledge of the wider world. She didn’t want to lose contact with Ivy. Ann Marie needed a purpose in her life, needed to feel she was making a difference.
“I’d go out of my mind sitting sewing a fine seam, Ivy.” Ann Marie sighed. “I can’t imagine spending my days gossiping, shopping and making the occasional social visit. It’s not the life for me.”
They walked on in silence for a while, each lost in their own thoughts. Ivy turned towards the canal and Ann Marie followed along. Ivy watched the graceful white swans glide along the canal, her thoughts in a muddle. She needed advice but didn’t know how to ask for it. Jem was going to need to do something about the fortune of metal and jewels he had hidden away in his stables but how was Ivy supposed to ask someone like Ann Marie about those things? It wasn’t her place to talk about Jem’s problems and, besides, it would involve Ann Marie in a very shady affair.
“Ivy . . .” Ann Marie pulled on Ivy’s arm and stopped walking. “I don’t want to lose touch. I want you to agree to come visit me at my aunt’s house.” She was holding her breath. It wasn’t an ideal solution but for the moment it was all she had.
“Yeh think yer aunt would let me past the door?” Ivy stared down at Ann Marie. “Auld Foster would lay a duck egg if I tried to knock on the front door of Number 8. Yeh have to face facts, Ann Marie. We live in two different worlds. There’s nowhere we can meet as equals.”
How she wished Ivy would allow her to purchase a decent walking outfit for her but Ann Marie knew just suggesting such a thing would be the end of this unusual friendship. Ivy Murphy wore her pride like a badge of courage. It was the only thing she had that was truly her own and Ivy guarded it zealously.
“I don’t want to lose touch, Ivy.” Ann Marie was frustrated by her inability to come up with a solution to this problem. “Can we meet when you come to the back door of Number 8?”
“I’m not going to ask your aunts’ servants to pass on messages, Ann Marie,” Ivy stated. “They’d get into trouble with Foster which is not something I would ask any of them to do. They have to live with the man.”
“Sunday. Let’s meet on Sunday.” Ann Marie was becoming desperate. This was ridiculous. Ivy lived alone but refused to invite her to visit. Ann Marie wasn’t happy living with her aunt. It was time and past she did something about that situation but all of that would take time and Ivy would slip out of her life.
“Don’t yeh go to Mass on Sunday? What about yer Sunday lunch?”
“Ivy, I’m not letting you go until we make arrangements to meet up again.” Ann Marie was frantically trying to think of a meeting place. The private park close to Merrion Square
would have to do – it would be freezing cold but she’d have more time to plan. She checked her watch. “I have to get back,” she said, pulling on Ivy’s arm.
Ivy had left her package in Ann Marie’s office so turned to go with her.
“I finish work today, Ivy. Let’s make plans to meet up in Herbert Park this Sunday, please,” Ann Marie insisted. She would ignore Ivy’s wishes and go into The Lane if she had to but she’d prefer not to upset Ivy by poking her nose into her affairs without invitation.
“All right – Sunday,” Ivy agreed. She was, in fact, anxious to meet with Ann Marie – she wanted to speak to her about a lot of things. But first she had to sort out her own thoughts and wishes. She needed time to take stock of her circumstances.
Ivy collected her brown-paper parcel from the morgue office, put it back in her pram and turned for home. She decided to walk along the canal. She’d visit the shop Jem had taken her to and go in alone to buy fresh milk. She wanted to test herself in this lonely world she found herself in.
Chapter 16
“Ivy Murphy!”
Ivy suddenly became aware of someone shouting her name. How long had someone been trying to catch her attention? Ivy didn’t really give a hoot. She was on her own now and answerable to no-one. “Ivy Murphy, in the name of God, woman, will you answer me?”
“Maisie Reynolds, what are you making all that noise about?” Ivy grinned at the woman who rented the rooms over her head. She’d wanted to bring the clothes she’d found over to the livery but that would have to wait until Maisie had told all she knew. The woman had a heart of gold but she did love to gossip.
“I was watching for you coming home.” Maisie, a slim woman in her forties, stood waiting at the gates that barred the top of the steps leading into Ivy’s place. Maisie’s dishwater blonde head was covered by her shawl – underneath it her pale blue eyes sparkled with anticipation. “I didn’t know if you’d heard the latest. Although you’d have to be deaf to miss the goings-on yesterday. I saw you out filling your buckets when all the fun was going on. I was going to come out and talk to you but I was too busy listening to the roula-boula coming from next door. You must have heard it, girl.” Maisie couldn’t wait to tell all she knew.
“I heard it.” Ivy had heard the shouting when she was fetching the water to fill the water container on her range but she’d ignored it. “Grab a hold, will ye, Maisie?”
She waited while Maisie took hold of the pram handle, then with Ivy going down the steps backwards the two women went down into the basement. It would have been simpler for Ivy to walk around the tenement block but Maisie would never have stood for that.
“I’ll wait while yeh get the fire going, will I?” Maisie had no intention of leaving without having a good old chinwag. She spent all day on her own taking care of her two rooms and her men. A bit of woman’s company was a blessing.
“What have you done to your hair, girl?” Maisie got a clear look at Ivy when the shawl covering her head fell back. The crown of tumbled coal-black curls on Ivy’s head came as a shock to Maisie. The girl looked beautiful. The style suited her delicate features. Her blue eyes looked enormous.
“I had a haircut.” Ivy opened her front door, touching her head self-consciously. Only Granny and Jem had seen her with her hair cut short. Ivy had no intention of telling anyone she’d sold her hair. Who’d believe her?
“Well, it suits you, flower.” Maisie smiled, worry showing clearly in her pale blue eyes. Éamonn Murphy was a hard man. He wouldn’t be happy about this. Ivy looked beautiful even in the rags she wore. There’d be wigs on the green when the bold Éamonn got a look at this. She sighed, deciding to keep her opinion to herself. Ivy knew what her da was.
“So, yeh heard the commotion?” Maisie couldn’t wait to tell Ivy what she’d missed.
“It’s not unusual to hear shouting around here Maisie. I paid it no mind.” Ivy glanced over her shoulder at the woman who’d lived upstairs from her all her life. Telling Maisie about her da’s death would be like taking an advertisement out in the papers. People would have to know sometime. She couldn’t hide her da’s absence for much longer. She wouldn’t take Maisie into the back room just yet but she’d have to tell the woman something.
“Do you fancy a cup of tea?” Ivy asked.
“Go on then.” Maisie took a seat at the table. “I’ve time and it’s lovely and warm in here. It must be because of the lower ceilings.” Maisie looked around surprised at the state of the place. Éamonn Murphy would do his nut when he saw this mess. “There are days I have to practically crawl into my fireplace for a bit of a heat.”
“The fire will only take a minute to get going.” Ivy didn’t want to just blurt out the news about her da’s death. Her stomach clenched at the thought of putting it into words. “What was all the noise about anyway?” Ivy was buying time. She put her precious cups and saucers on the table, thanking God she’d left the tea makings in this room.
“You’ll never guess!” Maisie was practically bouncing in her seat. Imagine Ivy not knowing what was going on! “You won’t guess, Ivy, not in a million years.”
“I don’t have to guess,” Ivy laughed, “because you’re going to tell me.”
“Well . . .” Maisie’s mouth was open to spill all.
“Wait until we have a cup of tea in front of us.” Ivy grinned at the look of surprise on Maisie’s face. “I think better with a cup of tea in me hand.” She began to unload her pram. “You’re in luck – I bought a bottle of milk on me way home.” Ivy grinned, delighted with her own bravery. She’d entered that shop Jem had shown her as if she owned the place. “Look at that! The water gets hot enough in no time at all.” Ivy grabbed the loose material of her skirt to remove the bubbling teapot from the fire. She’d used extra sticks to get the fire burning fast. She quickly spooned tea leaves into the pot and returned it to the fire.
“You’re a funny cow, Ivy Murphy,” Maisie said.
“Right!” Ivy said, plonking the milk on the table. “I’m sorry I can’t offer you a biscuit to go with your tea.” She carried the teapot from the fire and poured two cups of tea before returning the teapot to the grate. “So, go on, tell me everything.”
“Liam Connolly has come home for good.” Maisie grinned so hard her face wrinkled like a dried apple.
“What, from the seminary?” Ivy was suitably shocked.
“Yes!” Maisie’s head almost shook off her shoulders she wagged it with such force. “Liam walked home, from Maynooth, all that way! Can you imagine it?”
“No wonder the Connellys were roaring.” Ivy and everyone in The Lane knew the pride the Connelly family felt because one of theirs was going to be a priest.
“It was better then the fillums around here last night!” Maisie clapped her hands in delight. “Liam Connelly walked through the tunnel into The Lane bold as brass.”
“Why shouldn’t he? This is his home after all.” Ivy hadn’t much time for Liam Connelly. He’d been a sanctimonious little article from the time he could talk.
“Not to hear his da tell it.” Maisie sipped her tea and stared at Ivy with innocent delight in her faded blue eyes. “He near to killed the lad. Honest to God, Ivy, the shouts and yells were something to hear. I don’t know how you paid it no mind.”
“So the bold Liam doesn’t want to be a priest.” Ivy wasn’t terribly surprised. As far as Ivy could ever make out Liam just liked to hear himself talk. The lad had never struck her as priest material – not that she knew what priest material was, but still.
“He wants to go on the stage!” Maisie clapped her hands to her mouth while her shoulders shook with almost hysterical laughter. “Can you imagine what his da said? ‘He wants to go from a priest to a clown!’ – that’s what his da shouted all around The Lane. The windows fair rattled, I can tell yeh.”
“Well, he comes by it honestly, I suppose.” Ivy shrugged. “Alf and Lily Connelly have often made a few extra bob singing and winning those talent competitions at the Ro
yal. Liam would think it was easy money.” Ivy stared at Maisie. “Does he want to be an actor now, like that lot at the Tivoli?”
“No, it’s better than that!” Maisie snorted tea out of her nose she laughed so hard. “I heard it all. Well, everyone in the place and down the town must have heard Alf Connelly roaring. Liam brought this bitch home with him!”
“Maisie, that’s not a bit nice!” Ivy interrupted.
“A dog, Ivy, I’m talking about a dog!”
“Oh, all right!” Ivy started laughing like a fool. “This story just keeps getting better and better.” She stood to fetch the teapot. She’d freshen the tea cups before the next episode.
“It’s some kind of a collie dog.” Maisie sipped at the fresh cup of tea, trying to calm herself.
“What, one of those things that run the cattle and sheep into the market?”
The running of stock into the cattle market on the north side of the city was a huge attraction to the people of Dublin. At some time or another all of the local children dreamed of owning one of the dogs that ran and nipped after the herds being pushed through Dublin.
“Yes, it’s one of them. I’ve seen it.” Maisie nodded her head frantically. “The kids went wild when they saw Liam walk through the tunnel followed by the little creature.”
“I can imagine.” Ivy knew most families had a hard time feeding their children. A dog, any kind of pet, something that needed to be fed was a burden not a pleasure to the families living in The Lane.
Through Streets Broad and Narrow (Ivy Rose Series Book 1) Page 17