Arthur had never worked a day in his life and with a smile he determined he would not start now. Early on he had learned how to target lonely women who were only too happy to buy him clothes and gifts in exchange for his companionship. He would escort them to balls and the theatre at their expense and he became accustomed to living the high life. Arthur gained a reputation as a perfect gentleman, and on odd occasions – an ardent lover.
He used to scan the newspapers every day and select wealthy women very recently in mourning. Attending the funerals, he would introduce himself as a colleague of the deceased. Thereafter he would go calling on the widow to assure himself of her wellbeing. The rest would fall into place with gifts and money following swiftly on.
Then he’d met Avril Perkins and had married her in order to get his greedy hands on her money. Avril was not so ready to part with her coin as the others he had courted and so a wedding appeared to be the only lucrative outcome.
Leaning back in his chair, Arthur rolled himself a cigarette and smiled. Avril was dead, Dolly had run off and the house and all its contents belonged to him. A little pelf every so often would keep him going whilst he sought out a future target or two.
An avaricious man, it was not Arthur’s intention to remain low on funds for long. His acquisitive nature would ensure his rise to the upper middle class once more. He had been quite a rakehell in his time; he was proud of it and was determined to be one again very soon. For now, however, he was content to continue to relieve others of their hard-earned coffers.
6
Work at The Crown Saloon went on as spring melted into summer, and the blistering heat had everyone fractious. The sudorific air made for odiferous bodies which crowded into the bar, making for even worse working conditions than normal. Even with all the doors open there was not even a zephyr to ease the discomfort of the workers. Nellie seemed not to notice but Poppy complained bitterly.
‘The smell in here is making me gag!’ she called over the noise of the bar.
‘What do you want me to do about it?’ Nellie asked as she pushed a glass of gin into eagerly waiting hands.
Poppy shook her head, placed her scent laden handkerchief over her nose and breathed deeply.
‘Exactly!’ Nellie yelled.
‘Come on, Nellie, I’ve been waiting half an hour for my gin!’ called a man sporting a grin.
‘No, you ain’t, you lying cur, you’ve only just walked in! Hey, you lot – get a wash before you come in here again!’ Nellie pinched her nose between her finger and thumb.
Boisterous laughter sounded and Nellie held out her hands as if in defeat.
Poppy sighed and went back to work. Evidently buying gin was more important to the punters than buying soap.
Jack and Dolly were filling bottles in the blessed cool of the cellar.
‘Isn’t this cheating? Topping up with water, I mean,’ Dolly asked.
‘Yes, but to get drunk they have to buy more. Money in the till always makes Mum happy,’ Jack replied. ‘At least we use water, some use turpentine spirit.’
‘Oh my goodness!’ Dolly was aghast at the revelation.
‘There have been cases reported of folk going blind drinking this stuff,’ Jack added.
‘Why do they drink it then?’ Dolly asked, hardly able to believe what she was hearing.
‘People get drunk for lots of reasons, Dolly. For some it’s so they don’t feel the cold in the winter or the hunger gnawing at their bellies. For others it’s because they’re miserable with their lives or can’t get long term work,’ Jack explained as best he could.
‘All the gins have nice names though,’ Dolly noted.
‘True, but all these are the same gin – the cheapest Mum can buy; she sells it on as the stronger one for which she charges more. It don’t matter cos it’s all diluted anyway.’
‘Do you like gin, Jack?’
‘Never tried it; don’t think I ever will. It destroys lives, Dolly. I’ve heard things that would make your hair curl.’
‘Like what?’
‘Like a woman killing her child and selling his clothes to buy gin. Another bloke sold his daughter for his drink money. It’s addictive and the time comes when they can’t do without it, so they’ll do anything to get the pennies for their choice of drug.’ Jack shook his head sadly.
‘You’re very wise,’ Dolly said shyly.
‘I watch and listen and in turn, I learn. One day I’ll get out of this place and live on a farm,’ Jack said dreamily.
‘Can I come?’ Dolly asked, full of innocence.
‘Don’t see why not. You could feed the chickens while I milk the cows,’ Jack said with a grin.
The two chatted on for a while, fantasising in a childish way about living together in a cottage in the country before Nellie’s voice broke their reverie when she called for more bottles.
‘It must be really busy up there tonight cos I filled all the shelves this afternoon,’ Jack muttered as he hauled a crate up the cellar steps.
‘It’s very warm, Jack, people are thirsty from the heat,’ Dolly said, following behind him.
Jack was surprised to see Poppy and his mum working flat out and people yelling to be served.
‘Come on, help me put these under the counter then I’ll show you how to serve. It looks like Mum needs the help tonight.’
Above each shelf was a name tag denoting the different gins on offer with their price alongside it so there could be no mistakes made.
‘Make sure they keep the same glass – it saves on washing up later,’ Jack called to Dolly over the noise.
Dolly nodded and climbed up onto the box step, leaning her cane against the bar.
‘What can I get you?’ she asked a woman waving a glass under her nose.
‘Tot of White Satin,’ the woman slurred.
Checking the labels and price, Dolly grabbed a bottle and began to pour. Glancing at Jack she saw him nod and smile. Taking the woman’s money, she grabbed her cane and went to the till into which she dropped the pennies.
A moment later Nellie rushed along the bar with a large cigar box which she placed under the counter. ‘Here, use this for now to save you the walk to the till.’
Dolly thanked her and set to serving one person after another and by the time Nellie closed the doors on the last customer to be thrown out, she was so tired she could barely stand.
Hobbling to the kitchen for a bite of supper, Dolly excitedly began to tell Nancy about working the bar with Jack. ‘I sold White Satin and some Cream of the Palace; somebody bought Out & Out and one man asked for a Kill Grief!’ Dolly was very pleased at learning the names so quickly. ‘Mrs Larkin gave me a box to put the money in so I didn’t have to walk to the till. Wasn’t that kind of her?’ she asked as a plate of sausage and fried onions was placed before her.
‘Yes, sweet’eart. Now eat your supper then off to bed else you’ll be good for nowt come the morning,’ Nancy coaxed.
The question she had wanted to ask Nancy when she first arrived came to mind again at hearing the endearment. Despite her exhaustion Dolly steeled herself and plunged in.
‘Mrs Sampson, do you remember the day when I was taken in by Mrs Larkin?’
‘Yes, lovey, why?’ Nancy asked, wondering what the girl was about to say.
‘Well, you told me about – losing – your family and I explained about my mum…’ Dolly was struggling to find the adequate words.
‘Yes, and I’ve been pondering,’ Nancy cut in. ‘How would you feel if I was to become a sort of – mum – to you?’
‘That was my thinking too!’ Dolly gushed, relieved she didn’t now have to ask. ‘Would you – please?’
‘Oh, bab! You little love – o’course I would if that’s what you’d like!’ Nancy gathered the young girl in her arms as a lone joyful tear ran down her cheek. Dashing it away with the back of her hand, she let go of Dolly and fussed with cups and saucers, a wide grin on her face.
Jack and Poppy had sat silently wit
nessing the whole thing and they now exchanged an open-mouthed glance.
‘Well, young lady!’ Nellie boomed as she entered the kitchen holding the cigar box.
Dolly withered beneath the gaze of Jack’s mum. Should she have stepped in to help without being asked? Was Mrs Larkin furious with her now? Did she think Dolly might have stolen some of the money?
Placing the box on the table, Nellie flipped open the lid. Then she looked at the young girl sat at the table, fork in hand. ‘This is what Dolly took tonight – well done, gel!’
Applause sounded and Dolly blushed to the roots of her hair.
‘I should have asked if I could help first, rather than just stepping up, but you were so busy…’ Dolly began.
‘We needed that help so you did the right thing,’ Nellie assured her. ‘I think we might need you again, especially in this hot weather.’
Dolly clapped her hands in delight at having been asked.
Nancy and Nellie sat in the quiet kitchen after the others had trod wearily to bed, the aroma of onions still hanging in the air.
‘You know I ain’t in agreement with those kiddies tending the bar,’ Nancy said, eyeing her friend over her teacup.
‘I know, but with the way business is at the moment, I’ll be able to pay the distiller off quicker,’ Nellie answered.
‘You’m allus thinking of yourself, Nell! Besides, it will still take years.’
‘Maybe, but I ain’t got a choice, Nance.’ Nellie said, ignoring the jibe.
‘My little ’un was tired to the bone, Nell.’
‘Your little ’un?’ Nellie asked.
‘Ar, Dolly and I had a chat and we’ve decided it’s what we both want,’ Nancy answered.
‘I see, well I’m glad for yer both, Nance,’ Nellie said and her smile was warm as they both nodded together.
‘Still, an’ all, Dolly was done in tonight, Nell,’ Nancy reiterated.
‘Ar, but she was happy. I tell you what, Nance, she worked bloody hard tonight. She laughed and joked with the customers but never missed a beat. It’s like she was born to it. She’ll be an asset here, you mark my words.’ Nellie poured herself another cup of tea, a smile gracing her rounded face.
Nancy yawned. ‘I’m away to my bed now, don’t forget to put that money away,’ she said, pointing to the cigar box.
Nellie nodded. As she counted out the coins from the box, her smile broadened.
Well done indeed, Dolly Perkins!
7
Early one morning, Nancy donned her straw hat and prepared herself for the long walk to the fish market down past the Bull Ring. Taking some money from the household funds kept in the drawer set into the table she called out, ‘I’m off to fetch some fish, Nell; do you need anything?’
Nellie came through from the bar shaking her head. ‘No, but you can take young Dolly with you if you like. She’s been working hard and deserves a bit of a rest from this place.’
‘Righto,’ Nancy nodded and gave Dolly a shout.
A moment later the girl appeared and was excited at the thought of a jaunt to the market.
‘It’s a long way, can you manage with that leg?’ Nancy asked.
‘Oh yes, I’m just not very fast,’ Dolly answered. ‘Can – can Jack come too?’
‘Jack’s got work to do,’ Nellie said sternly.
Dolly lowered her gaze, feeling sorry for her new friend at being cooped up in this place all day. She had asked knowing how badly the boy wanted to be outside in the sunshine. He had been so kind to her and she wanted to do something nice for him in return. However, it seemed Mrs Larkin was not about to let him out today.
It was then that he came through the open doorway. ‘Shelves are full; empty casks are ready for collection; floor is swept and now Poppy’s scalding bottles,’ he said breathlessly. ‘Oh, you two off out?’
‘Yes, I’m going to the fish market with Nancy,’ Dolly said, almost apologetically.
Dashing into the hallway Jack returned with a battered old parasol and handed it to Dolly. ‘It’s as hot as a desert out there today.’
‘Thank you, Jack,’ Dolly said with a shy smile at his thoughtful gesture.
‘Right, what’s next, Mum?’ he asked, suddenly aware that everyone was looking at him.
‘You take yerself off with Nancy an’ all; you deserve a break as well, lad,’ Nellie said, ‘but mind you ain’t out all day cos we’ll be run off our feet here later.’
‘Thanks, Mum,’ the boy said with a grin like a Cheshire cat.
The three went out of the back door into the yard, through the gate into the alley and then onto the main thoroughfare.
Nancy smiled as she walked down Gin Barrel Lane behind the two chattering children sharing the shade of the parasol. They couldn’t have been closer if they’d been siblings. Dolly Daydream had the makings of being a real beauty in the next few years, but Nancy couldn’t see the time when the girl would marry – not with that bad leg of hers. She’d probably grow up and grow old within the confines of The Crown Saloon for it was doubtful any man would take on a cripple for a wife.
Hearing Dolly’s laugh, Nancy felt love surge through her. Everything about the child was gentle; her giggle was like water trickling in a brook, her eyes sparkled like stars and her brain held a wealth of knowledge for one so young. The words and phrases she used came naturally to her which showed a good education, but were never said in such a way as to make others appear or feel stupid.
Thirteen years old and an orphan, Dolly had endured more than any child should. Left only with an abusive step-father, the poor kid could take no more. Surviving on the streets with a gammy leg was a wonder in itself, and Nancy gave an imperceptible shake of her head at the thought.
As they continued on their way, Nancy watched Dolly’s strange gait beneath the little summer dress Nellie had purchased from the market for her and wondered what had caused the leg to be damaged. Maybe the umbilical cord had wrapped itself around that little leg whilst still in the womb and thus cut off the blood supply. Could that have happened? Would it have resulted in a withered limb? No-one would ever know now, but what was apparent was young Dolly refused to be cowed by it. She did not see herself as disabled; to her the leg was nothing more than an inconvenience.
The smell of the fish market hit them long before they arrived. Leaving Corporation Street they turned into the High Street and on towards the stalls in Bell Street.
The difference in temperature caused them to shiver as all around them fish of all sorts were displayed on ice to keep them fresh. The calls of the mongers rang out, enticing buyers to their stalls.
‘Mussels – fresh this morning!’
‘Skate, come and get your skate here!’
‘Last of the roe, ladies, so be quick!’
Dolly stared around and giggled at Jack as he opened and closed his mouth and used his hands as flippers.
Nancy grinned at his antics and cuffed him gently on the back of his head. ‘Stay close, you two, I don’t want you getting lost.’
As they meandered between the stalls, Nancy named the different species laid out before them. Cod, Pollock, Hake – the list went on before Nancy stopped to make her purchases. Rollmops – pickled herrings – were a firm favourite, and Pouting, which was cheaper than cod, were wrapped and placed in her basket before they moved on.
Nancy wisely kept her purse in her hand after hearing stories of a pickpocket targeting unsuspecting women.
‘I just need to pop into the market hall quickly before we go home,’ Nancy said as she ushered her charges out into the street once more. Pushing them before her into the massive market hall, she stopped at a stall selling Teddy Gray’s sweets. She bought two ounces of boiled sweets each for a delighted Dolly and Jack with the firm instruction the confectionary was to be made to last.
‘Don’t crack ’em, you’ll bost yer teeth. They’m called suck for a reason,’ Nancy said with a grin. Refusing the bag proffered by Dolly she added, ‘No, thanks, pet,
they’m no good for me figure!’
Jack snorted and received another cuff for his cheek.
The walk home was made in silence as the youngsters sucked on a sweet, savouring its flavour like it might be the last they ever had.
Unbeknown to them a pair of weasel-like eyes had followed their progress. They had not seen the man watching, but Arthur Micklewhite had seen them.
8
Emptying the purse he had just stolen before dropping it to the ground, Arthur pocketed the money and pushed on through the fish market. That’s when he had spotted Dolly and her friends. Surprised, he had not thought to see her again; after all, Birmingham was a large town.
Staying a good distance behind, he followed them up Corporation Street; he wanted to know where they were headed. Sauntering along in the mid-day heat, Arthur kept a beady eye on Dolly.
Eventually he stopped at the end of the tramway and leaned against a house wall. He watched in astonishment as the three entered The Crown Saloon. This was something he had not expected and he rubbed his whiskers as his thoughts swirled. A gin palace. Dolly Daydream had landed on her feet and no mistake.
He rolled himself a cigarette and lit it with a Lucifer, waving the match in the air to douse its flame before flicking it into the gutter. Puffing on his smoke he stared at the saloon.
Large plate glass windows etched with huge crowns stood either side of the door. He could see, even from where he was standing, that the massive room, which he suspected had once been two, was full to bursting. Ornate gas lamps hung on the wall on either side of the door which was perpetually opening and closing as more bodies shoved their way inside. The sign which displayed the name of the place would also be lit up when darkness fell, he noted. The doors and window frames were painted burgundy and the brickwork looked as if it was cleaned regularly.
Pushing away from the wall, Arthur dragged his dirty fingers through his well-oiled hair. Pulling the dog-end from his lips he flicked it high into the air and watched its trajectory before it landed with a bounce and then rolled close to the discarded match.
The Children from Gin Barrel Lane Page 4
