A Winter Baby for Gin Barrel Lane

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A Winter Baby for Gin Barrel Lane Page 18

by Lindsey Hutchinson


  Sadie nodded, twitching her eyebrows at Alice who just grinned.

  It was later that day when Dolly sent a runner asking Gwen to come to the Palace. When she arrived, she was very excited at being asked to write out the invitations. With the list and some money from Dolly, she headed off to buy some good quality paper suitable for the task.

  Jack had said she could write them during the evenings because in the daytime she would be needed in the kitchen.

  Bess had reminded Jack he would need a best man and, as Fred was spoken for, he feared he would have to choose between Joey and Frank, so to save any arguments he decided to make a trip to the theatre to ask Wyman.

  Knocking on the theatre door, he was let in by the old man who said, ‘I’ll get a bed moved in ’ere for you shall I?’

  Jack laughed. ‘I’ve come to see…’

  The man waved a hand towards the corridor.

  ‘Wyman York,’ Jack finished.

  ‘Down to the bottom and through the door on the right.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘You’re a bloody menace!’ the old man said, but then he chuckled. ‘I heard what you did for Mr York. Bless you, lad!’

  Jack patted the man gently on his bent shoulder and strode down the corridor.

  ‘Jack! How lovely to see you!’ Wyman enthused as Jack walked into the large room. It housed a small piano, which was where Wyman sat now, his shirt sleeves rolled up above his elbows and a pencil tucked behind his ear.

  ‘How are you, Wyman?’

  ‘Good, my boy, very good.’

  Jack told the pianist why he had come and Wyman clasped his hands together.

  ‘A wedding! I’d be delighted to be your best man, Jack. Many thanks for thinking of me.’

  The two chatted a while, catching up on each other’s news, and Jack told him about the blind man playing at the Emporium now.

  ‘Randall Green. I know him well, he tunes pianos everywhere and is a brilliant pianist,’ Wyman said.

  ‘The crowd love him, but I think they still miss you.’

  ‘You’re too kind, Jack, but I’m sure they don’t. Give everyone my regards.’

  Jack nodded and left him to his work. He had noticed the paper Wyman was writing on and Jack surmised it was a new piano composition. He hoped he was right and that Wyman had begun to compose once more.

  It was snowing heavily again when Jack climbed into the cab. The horse struggled to find purchase on the icy roadway and the cab slewed from side to side. He could hear the cabbie calling reassuringly to the horse as they proceeded carefully towards their destination.

  Once indoors, Jack warmed himself by the range. ‘If this weather keeps up, folks won’t be able to get here for their gin.’

  ‘Oh, they’ll come, even if they have to break out the sledges,’ Bess said with a laugh.

  ‘If we get snowed in, I won’t be getting wed.’

  ‘You will. We’ll send a sledge for the vicar and he can marry you two in the bar.’

  Jack moved to stare out of the kitchen window, praying for more clement weather.

  But, as if in defiance, the snow kept falling, thicker and thicker.

  38

  ‘That bloody roof is leaking again!’ the man snapped, making Ezra look up from his accounts.

  ‘Put a bucket under it.’

  ‘We’ve got buckets everywhere. That roof is like a colander! It needs fixing!’

  ‘I ain’t spending money on it yet. When the snow’s gone I’ll get a roofer to have a look. Meanwhile you’ll just have to manage.’

  The worker walked out of Ezra’s office in a huff.

  Ezra sighed. He’d known about the leaky roof for a while and had intended to get it repaired, but he’d been too busy. It would have to last until the spring and then he would get a builder in. He thought his workers were making mountains out of molehills and, shaking his head, he returned his attention to the figures before him.

  He was at his financial limit now, so if he wanted to buy more property it would have to be on a mortgage facility. He chided himself for being rash in buying the pubs on Navigation Street as it had taken up all his capital. However, they now belonged to him which meant that at least Dolly Perkins couldn’t get her hands on them. The satisfaction he was feeling was worth it.

  Ezra looked up again at the ceiling. No one in their right mind would climb up there to inspect his brewery roof while the snow was still falling. Building up the fire, he stared out at the street where everything had turned white.

  The whole of the following week it snowed day and night and the snow lay inches thick everywhere. Folk were out with shovels clearing pathways but the next day it was just as bad again. Businesses suffered as people stayed indoors, not daring to venture out for fear of catching their death of cold.

  Pubs and gin palaces alike saw a drop in custom, but as Bess had predicted, some still braved the weather for their alcohol.

  The next week saw no let-up in the weather, although the snow only came at night. The snow drifts were measured in feet rather than inches. The streets were empty of carts and cabs, the owners unwilling to risk their horses on the ice.

  It was as the week drew to a close that the catastrophe happened.

  One night there was an enormous crash and, although people heard it, they refused to get out of their warm beds to investigate. They could find out what had happened when they rose in the morning.

  Ezra Moreton arrived at the brewery early, having had to trudge through the snow, which was falling yet again, to find his workers out on the road.

  ‘What’s going on?’ he asked from beneath his snow-covered umbrella.

  ‘The roof’s caved in! I warned you but you wouldn’t listen!’ It was the same man who had reported the leak who spoke.

  ‘Christ almighty!’ Ezra exclaimed as he tried to get a look at the damage.

  ‘All the stock is smashed to pieces,’ the man said.

  ‘Bloody hell!’

  ‘Well, we can’t work in that lot,’ the man spoke again.

  ‘Isn’t there anything we can salvage?’ Ezra asked impatiently.

  ‘No, not a thing.’

  ‘We have to do something!’ Ezra uttered truculently as he saw the beer had spread across the snow from the wrecked barrels.

  ‘Such as?’ the worker asked.

  Ezra shook his head. For once he was at a loss for words. He was devastated. His brewery couldn’t function like this, which meant no beer could be brewed or delivered. That in turn meant no money coming in. He had to get a builder in now to repair the damage, and that would cost. Having examined his finances closely, he knew he could not stretch to that without approaching the bank for a loan. Besides which, work could not commence until the snow stopped falling.

  The grumbling of his workers snapped his attention back and he shouted, ‘Go home! Come back when I can get this lot sorted out.’

  ‘What about our wages?’ one called out.

  ‘We need to work!’ another yelled.

  ‘What do you want me to do? You can’t work in that, you just said so yourself!’ Ezra said belligerently.

  ‘My missus will skin my hide when I tell her!’ yet another mumbled.

  ‘It’s not my fault!’ Ezra railed.

  ‘Beggin’ your pardon, boss, but it is,’ one of the braver men muttered.

  ‘Just bugger off, all of you!’ Ezra turned and fought his way through the snow heading for home. His brewery looked like a building site and he could do nothing about it. He slipped on the ice and fell on his back, which only blackened his mood further. Infuriated and with a sore backside, he trudged on.

  In contrast, over at the Palace it was warm and full of customers. Dolly marvelled at how they had managed to get there but was glad they had.

  Aggie arrived cold and wet, puffing and panting.

  ‘You should have stayed at home,’ Dolly said.

  ‘You’m kidding, ain’t yer? The weather was worse than this when I was a young
ster. Snowed in for weeks we were; almost starved to death ’cos mother couldn’t get to the market!’

  Dolly filled a glass and pushed it across the counter.

  ‘Here, that’s for your efforts.’

  Aggie nodded her thanks as she removed her two pairs of woollen mittens. Taking a gulp, she then said, ‘Ezra Moreton is spitting fire!’

  ‘Why? What’s wrong with him now?’ Dolly frowned.

  ‘The roof of his brewery has only gone and collapsed under the weight of the snow!’

  ‘Good grief!’ Dolly exclaimed.

  ‘Ar, and all his beer had piddled away ’cos the barrels was all bosted!’

  ‘Did any of the barrels survive?’

  ‘Not a one!’

  ‘Poor man.’

  ‘Poor man, my arse! Moreton’s had this coming to him for a long time,’ Aggie remonstrated.

  ‘Even so, it’s hard luck,’ Dolly returned.

  ‘It ain’t! He should have had it seen to afore this. Now his customers will be going somewhere else,’ Aggie said.

  ‘What about his new pubs on Navigation Street?’ Dolly asked.

  ‘If he wants to keep them open, he’ll have to buy beer in.’

  Dolly replenished Aggie’s glass and the old woman went on. ‘He’ll have to buy beer for all his pubs, although I don’t rightly know how many he has now.’

  Dolly was surprised. There was actually something Aggie didn’t know!

  Aggie took her glass to stand by the roaring fire, where she could spread the news of Ezra’s bad fortune.

  Dolly’s customers settled in for the day and outside the snow still fell from the heavens.

  39

  Jack and Dolly’s wedding day drew nearer, and the weather gave no signs of letting up. Shovels were still being dragged across pathways in an effort to keep foot traffic flowing, but it was a thankless task.

  The young couple, in their separate establishments, fretted that their special day might have to be cancelled, or at the very least postponed.

  Dolly had been unable to go hunting for a wedding dress and so Sadie had managed to get some material from the market and sat sewing until her eyes ached. The cream silk slowly came together and Dolly was delighted, although she wondered if she would ever get to wear it.

  The invitations had gone out before the snow prevented them, but the idea of a posy went out of the window. However, Alice said Dolly could borrow her small prayer book to carry if she’d like to.

  Jack also had been unable, as had Fred, to purchase new clothes, so they brushed up what they had in the hope the wedding could still go ahead.

  Jack, Dolly and Nellie were glad they had stocked the cellars and had ordered extra supplies at the onset of the bad weather, for no carts were able to get through now.

  Jack dressed warmly and he and Frank trudged through the thick white layers to the vicarage. He needed to ask the vicar if he would perform the service at the Palace. They had planned on the Emporium as it was bigger for the after party, but Jack didn’t want Dolly traversing the lethally icy streets, and he doubted anyone would get to the church.

  Invited in, Jack explained why they were there.

  ‘Hold a service in a gin palace?’ the vicar gasped.

  ‘It’s the only way,’ Jack said, rubbing his cold hands together.

  ‘The place would have to be blessed first and your guests may not be able to travel,’ the vicar said. He was trying his best to dissuade Jack so he would not have to go out himself in the dreadful weather.

  ‘Please vicar, we have to get wed – it’s all arranged!’ Jack pleaded.

  The vicar narrowed his eyes. ‘Your intended isn’t expecting a child, is she?’ he asked with a frown.

  ‘No, of course not!’

  ‘Then what’s the hurry? You could rearrange for a time when this awful weather improves.’

  Jack explained how he had almost lost Dolly once before and how desperate they were to get married, and finally the vicar relented.

  ‘Very well. The Palace it will be.’

  Thanking the man profusely, Jack and Frank set off to tell Dolly about the new arrangements. They had gone together in case one slipped on the ice and broke a bone.

  They were frozen by the time they reached the Palace and gratefully accepted hot food and drinks.

  ‘Oh, Jack, we could have waited. You didn’t need to go out in this!’ Dolly said.

  ‘I did. I’m not letting you get away from me. On Saturday next you and I will become man and wife, and I’ll be the happiest I’ve ever been. Snow be damned!’

  ‘What about our guests? They won’t want to risk it.’ Dolly waved a hand towards the kitchen window where they could see the white flakes still falling heavily.

  ‘It won’t matter. Mum and the others only have to cross the road so that’s not a problem. As for everyone else, it will be up to them. The vicar is coming here to bless the place before the ceremony.’

  ‘Well, if you think it’s a good idea…’ Dolly began.

  ‘It’s the only way if we want to be married,’ Jack said.

  ‘All right, let’s do it,’ Dolly conceded with a beaming smile.

  Then she filled Jack in on the news of Ezra’s roof collapsing.

  ‘Blimey! That’s gonna cost to get that fixed!’ Then to his friend he said, ‘Righto, Frank, are you ready to go?’ Frank nodded and Jack kissed Dolly before they set off once more, eager to get home as soon as possible.

  ‘I’m not coming out again until Saturday,’ Jack said as they pushed on through the ever-increasing snowfall.

  ‘Nor me! I’m soaked to the skin and I can’t feel my toes!’ Frank replied.

  ‘Let’s hurry up then, otherwise we’ll have frostbite.’

  Eventually they reached the Emporium and both men went to change into warm dry clothes.

  Jack then filled the whole team in on the changes they were having to make to the wedding, saying he would understand if they felt they could not attend.

  ‘What, and miss it? There’s no way on God’s green – or rather white – Earth I wouldn’t be there!’ Bess said and was pleased to see the nods of agreement from all of her colleagues.

  ‘Good. Well, let’s hope God stops sending this white stuff, then, and everything goes according to plan,’ Jack said with a grin.

  As the day progressed, Jack’s customers left to brave the cold on their way home. It was early evening by the time the bar was empty. Jack locked up and turned off the lamps, retiring to the kitchen, where it was warm and cosy. He had sent his staff home too, saying they should stay away until the weather improved.

  Jack, Bess, Gwen, Frank and Joey enjoyed a hot meal of stew and dumplings with freshly baked bread.

  It was dark outside but the gas lamps in the kitchen threw out a rosy glow. The range doors were left open to heat the room and it was then Jack and Frank finally had the time to fill their friends in on Ezra’s misfortune.

  The same tale was being related in the Crown Saloon by Aggie at that very moment. In exchange for free gin, she was describing the devastation over at the brewery site to Nellie.

  ‘Dear God! Was anybody hurt?’ Nellie asked.

  ‘No, fortunately it went overnight otherwise the blokes would have been crushed to death.’

  ‘Nance! Come and hear this!’ Nellie called out and, again for a free tot, Aggie revelled in the telling of what had befallen Ezra Moreton.

  Later, Nellie closed up earlier than usual, so folk could get home through the snow.

  The following morning Birmingham breathed a collective sigh of relief to see the snow had stopped, and again shovels and spades were brought out to clear walkways. Everyone prayed for a thaw but it didn’t seem likely for a while. Those businesses that could had opened up, but custom was sparse so many closed again and owners struggled homeward.

  The kitchen at the Palace was busy as Sadie, Alice and Dolly cooked the food needed for after the wedding ceremony. Rolling out pastry for pies, Dolly’s nerve
s jangled.

  This time tomorrow she would be a married lady. She wondered if she would feel any different. She flushed as she thought about her wedding night and pushed the hair off her face with the back of her forearm.

  Pull yourself together, girl, there’s a lot to be done if we are to be ready on time!

  Humming a little tune, she tried to concentrate on the baking, but again the flush came as her mind strayed to finally being alone at night with Jack.

  40

  Whilst wedding preparations were underway at the Palace, Ezra had walked solemnly to his brewery to assess the damage further. The office was still standing and a crowd of people were gathered around discussing Ezra’s plight. Conversations were halted abruptly when they saw him coming, and as he neared they saw the scowl on his face.

  ‘Did anyone see what happened?’ he called out.

  Heads shook and a woman said, ‘We heard the crash.’

  ‘Did you investigate it?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because it was the middle of the bloody night!’

  Ezra huffed. Clearly no one had been prepared to leave their warm beds to discover what had caused the roof to finally give way.

  Unlocking the gate and walking through the yard, he saw the snow had turned a pale golden colour where the beer had escaped the smashed barrels. Going into the office, he collected his accounts ledger and the money he had hidden away in the safe. Then he walked through to the works. He gasped as he saw the rubble, which had once been the roof, piled on the floor. Looking up, he could see the sky and he heard the creak of remaining timbers.

  ‘You shouldn’t be in here, sir,’ a voice said. ‘It’s far too dangerous.’

  Ezra turned to see a policeman standing in the doorway.

  ‘Come away now, there’s a good man,’ the bobby said kindly.

  Ezra took a last look at what had been his livelihood and the constable spoke again.

  ‘It’s not safe, sir, the rest could come down at any minute.’

  Ezra nodded and walked towards the other man. Suddenly there was a loud crack, a rumble and both men fled as an almighty crash brought down another portion of the roof. Timber and tiles flew everywhere and huge clumps of snow splatted onto the concrete floor.

 

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