The Children from Gin Barrel Lane

by Lindsey Hutchinson

  ‘Hmm. There have been a spate of thefts in the market place, so maybe this Mr Short is the man responsible,’ the sergeant mused.

  ‘Are you going to arrest him?’ Elizabeth asked.

  ‘We would need to interview him before any arrest can be made. Thank you, Mrs Murray, rest assured I’ll be despatching a constable right away.’

  Elizabeth nodded and left the police station with a feeling she had been dismissed like a naughty child.

  Walking carefully on the icy ground, she made her way home, wondering whether Gabriel Short would indeed be taken into custody. She knew it was his word against hers and there was no evidence to show him to be guilty of the crime for which he was accused.

  On the other hand, she could not stand by and allow him to get away with stealing from those who could ill afford to lose the little they had. He had not managed to steal from her mother, for which she was grateful, but that’s not to say he wouldn’t have had he been given the chance.

  Stepping into the road, Elizabeth heard the thin ice on a puddle crack beneath her boot, and she quickly lifted the hem of her skirt to prevent it getting wet. Crossing the street, she kept a keen eye out for passing traffic having heard about a young boy who had been knocked down by a wayward cart.

  She wondered if the police would bother to inform her should they apprehend Gabriel Short; somehow, she doubted it. One thing was certain though, if he wasn’t caught by the constabulary, then she would definitely be paying that despicable man another visit.

  35

  It was mid-morning the following day when the young constable knocked on the front door of number twenty-seven, Rea Terrace. He had been instructed to interview the man living there – Mr Gabriel Short.

  The door opened a crack and a pair of sleepy eyes peered out.

  ‘Good morning, sir, I’m looking for Gabriel Short, would you be him?’ the constable asked.

  ‘No, officer, I’m Arthur Micklewhite,’ came the answer.

  ‘Does Mr Short live here, sir?’

  ‘No. There’s only me. I don’t know anyone of that name, sorry.’ Arthur had begun to sweat despite the freezing temperature.

  ‘I see. Are you all right, sir? You don’t look too well,’ the policeman said as he took a step backwards.

  Arthur forced a hacking cough and muttered. ‘I have the influenza.’

  The officer stepped back again and said hurriedly, ‘Well, thank you for your time.’ Then he marched away briskly.

  Arthur grinned as he closed the door against the ice-cold draught. Lighting the range, he shivered, then pulled on his jacket which had been draped over a kitchen chair. Shaking the kettle to satisfy himself it held enough water, he slammed it on the range to boil for tea.

  Dropping onto a chair, his mind was racing. So, the coppers were on the look-out for Gabriel. The only way they could have traced him here was if they had been told, and Arthur knew exactly who had informed on him. Elizabeth Murray. Now the question before him was – should he stay put or flee to safety? If he ran then Ezra wouldn’t be able to find him, which meant he’d never own that necklace and he’d be out of pocket. He would still owe Ezra and he was sure the man would move heaven and earth to get his money. There would be nowhere he could hide from Ezra’s men for he felt sure a man of such prominence would have contacts spread far and wide. That being said, if he did run, the police wouldn’t feel his collar either for he guessed Elizabeth would be more than happy to lead them to his door once more. The other side of the coin was to remain where he was and risk another visit from the constabulary. He could hide; pretend he was out, but would they leave it at that? He doubted it. The coppers were like bloodhounds, they wouldn’t give up until they had their man.

  Caught on the horns of the dilemma, Arthur racked his brains for a solution.

  ‘Bloody women!’ he mumbled as he made himself a cup of tea with the last of the leaves. He took a gulp and grimaced; weak tea with no milk or sugar was not to his taste at all. Banging the cup on the table he ignored the dirty grey liquid that slopped over its rim.

  What to do? He sighed explosively as he got to his feet. Whilst he still lived in this house, he had to watch out for anyone coming down the path. The last thing he needed was to be caught on the hop.

  Donning his overcoat, Arthur set out yet again, this time for the railway station where there were always good pickings to be had. He was desperate for money and supplies, otherwise he would go hungry. A quick foray, then home in case Ezra had kept his side of the bargain and come to deliver Dolly to her rightful place.

  Arthur stomped his way through the snow laden streets seeing none of the beauty of nature’s bounty. He was cold, hungry and mad as hell at Elizabeth Murray for causing him such grief.

  As was Arthur’s wont, he blamed everyone but himself for his misfortunes. It was Dolly’s fault he was still a poor man, and Elizabeth had sent the police knocking on his door. He saw no wrong in helping himself to the odd few pounds he filched from the unwary. To his mind they should take better care of their money and belongings.

  Strolling the platform, his eyes darted this way and that, looking for any Bluebottles lurking. It really wouldn’t do to be caught red-handed by the police now.

  Taking a wallet here and a purse there, Arthur then shot out of the station and to a little shop nearby where he bought some groceries with his pilf and rushed away home. He decided he wouldn’t venture out again until it became absolutely necessary for him to do so.

  Once indoors he relaxed a little. With food in his belly he sat staring out of the kitchen window. All he had to do now was wait for Ezra and Dolly Daydream, then all his problems would be over.

  In the meantime, Elizabeth decided to take a detour on her way home and visit her mother.

  ‘I thought to come and see how you are,’ she said as she shed her outdoor clothing.

  ‘I’m fine, dear,’ Sylvia responded and headed to the kitchen with her daughter on her heels. ‘I was just indulging myself with freshly baked cake.’

  ‘Good for you, I hope there’s some left for me,’ Elizabeth said with a little laugh.

  Sitting in the kitchen after tea was poured and cake sliced, Sylvia eyed the woman sitting opposite her. ‘So why have you really come to visit?’

  Taking a deep breath, Elizabeth explained about her visit to the police station.

  ‘Was that truly necessary?’ Sylvia frowned at her daughter, wondering when she had become such an interfering busybody.

  ‘Yes, Mother, it was. That rogue would have taken everything you have, don’t you see that?’

  ‘Your inheritance, you mean,’ Sylvia muttered over the rim of her cup.

  ‘No – well, yes, I mean…’ Elizabeth began to babble.

  ‘Elizabeth, Gabriel Short would never have wheedled my fortune out of me, and I think deep down you know that to be true. He was a pleasant distraction, that’s all.’ Sylvia tried her best to hide the lie, for she had fallen headlong for the man’s charms.

  ‘Yes, well, it’s up to the police to capture him now and put him in gaol. I hope they throw away the key!’ Elizabeth snapped.

  ‘You never did like him, did you? Why? What set you against him?’

  ‘I saw right through him almost immediately, Mother. He’s a charlatan; only out for what he can get! He lives in a two up, two down house; he thieves from other folk and it’s my guess he targets people like you – wealthy widows!’ Elizabeth was exasperated that her mother still appeared to be defending the man. ‘Ann Bradshaw said she would be having nothing more to do with him when we came away from his hovel, do you remember?’

  ‘Yes, dear, I do.’

  ‘Well, then! Mother, please try to understand that I did this to protect you!’

  ‘What you don’t appear to understand, Elizabeth, is that I do not need your protection!’ Sylvia threw the cake she was holding onto the plate. The sadness of losing her paramour and embarrassment at falling for his charms had fused together in anger. She w
as furious with her daughter for interfering, with Gabriel for duping her, and herself for being taken in by him so easily.

  ‘Why will you not mind your own business? Clearly you don’t have enough to do! You should have some children then you’d be too busy to poke your nose into my affairs!’ Sylvia pushed back her chair as she stood.

  Elizabeth gasped at the venomous outburst from her mother. Why was she being like this? Was it the passing of her husband, Elizabeth’s father, which had turned her so bitter? Or did it have something to do with Elizabeth chasing away Gabriel Short? Something had happened to make Sylvia short-tempered and angry all the time.

  ‘I can see I’m not welcome here at present so maybe I should go and leave you to your misery!’ Elizabeth barked as she too, got to her feet.

  ‘You can see yourself out!’ Sylvia stamped from the kitchen leaving her daughter alone, tears of hurt and frustration coursing down her cheeks.

  A few moments later Sylvia heard the front door slam. Closing her eyes and clamping her lips together she fought to hold back her own tears. She lost the battle, and she crumpled onto a chair with great heaving sobs.

  36

  While Sylvia Chilton’s heart was breaking over Gabriel Short, Ezra Morton was instructing his men concerning their visit to Arthur Micklewhite.

  ‘You are to keep a very close eye on the girl – do not let her out of your sight! Do you understand?’

  ‘Yes, boss,’ the two chorused.

  ‘You ask him for the money, but he won’t give it to you,’ Ezra continued.

  The two men exchanged a confused glance.

  ‘He won’t have it, you dolts!’ Ezra rolled his eyes at their stupidity. ‘So, you tell him you can either take Dolly back to The Crown Saloon, or you can break his legs.’

  Watching the grins cross their faces Ezra sighed. ‘You don’t actually have to do it, you just threaten it to frighten him.’

  ‘Oh, right,’ one muttered, a little disappointedly.

  Ezra shook his head slightly, then said, ‘When he doesn’t come up with the cash you remind him about his contract with me. Then you take Dolly back to Nellie. Got it?’

  The men nodded.

  ‘Can’t we just dislocate a few fingers?’ the other asked hopefully.

  ‘No!’ Ezra snapped. ‘Now bugger off and let me know how it goes!’

  With heads hung low, the men left the office.

  ‘Whatever am I doing, having blokes that daft working for me?’ Ezra mumbled.

  Leaning back in his chair, his mind formed an image of Arthur Micklewhite begging for mercy as the boys towered over him. Rubbing his hands together, Ezra grinned. By the end of the week he would be the owner of a house in Rea Terrace!

  Over at The Crown, Nancy was quizzing Nellie about the deal made with Ezra.

  ‘What’s in it for you?’

  ‘Ezra had to come to me so he could get that house, Nance,’ Nellie answered as she accepted the plate of bread and cheese. ‘He couldn’t do it without Dolly and because she’s in our care, he had to come cap in hand!’

  ‘Even so, I don’t like it, Nell, anything could go wrong!’ Nancy wailed.

  ‘It won’t. Ezra assured me Dolly would be safe with his blokes and I don’t think for a minute they’d hurt a kid – Ezra would never allow that. Besides, it’s the house he’s after.’

  ‘Oh, Nell! I’ve come to love that little wench like she’s my own flesh and blood!’ Nancy dropped onto a chair with a sigh.

  ‘I know, Nance, I’ve seen it happening. Don’t worry, it will all work out nicely, you’ll see.’ Nellie was doing her best to reassure her friend as well as hide her own misgivings. She prayed she was right and Dolly would come back safe and sound.

  ‘We should never have agreed to it, Nell!’ Nancy clearly was not going to let the matter drop.

  ‘If you’re that worried, I’ll send a message to Ezra and tell him it’s all off,’ Nellie said.

  ‘I don’t know…’ Nancy wavered.

  ‘Make your bloody mind up, Nance! Either we go ahead with it or we don’t!’ Nellie’s temper rose at her friend’s indecision.

  ‘I’m frightened for her!’ Nancy snapped back.

  Nellie’s anger dissipated in an instant on seeing her friend’s angst. ‘I’m sorry, lass, I didn’t mean to snap at you,’ she said in earnest.

  ‘Me an’ all,’ Nancy answered. ‘I just worry we’re being drawn into Ezra’s dirty world and I ain’t happy about it.’ Brushing away a tear, Nancy sniffed.

  ‘Me neither, if truth be told,’ Nellie confessed. ‘I might have got a bit carried away with the idea of Ezra being beholden to me instead of t’other way round.’

  ‘I can see that; you were in his debt a long time – until Dolly came along. Now it seems we’re repaying her by putting her in danger.’

  ‘I tell you what, let’s have another word with her and see how she feels. What do you say?’

  ‘Yes, let’s.’ Nancy smiled her appreciation at the thoughtfulness.

  A little while later Dolly sat with the two women and heard their concerns.

  ‘We’re both worried for you, Dolly,’ Nancy said.

  ‘Surely I will be safe enough with Ezra’s men there – won’t I?’ Dolly asked as she began to feel her misgivings grow too.

  ‘Yes, but after all you’ve done for us and as Nancy said, we could be putting you in danger,’ Nellie answered, a frown creasing her brow.

  Dolly sighed as she looked at each woman in turn.

  ‘I know as well that you don’t want to see Arthur out of house and home despite the way he treated you,’ Nellie added.

  ‘That’s true, no one deserves to be pushed out onto the streets. It’s no way for people to live, Nellie – I know, I did it.’ Dolly shook her head as pictures flashed through her mind of when she had to beg and scavenge to survive; of sleeping in doorways frightened for her life, and the bitter cold in the winter months threatening to freeze her to death.

  ‘Arthur is a greedy scoundrel who had disgusting designs on you, sweet’eart. He and Ezra are trying to get one over on each other and unfortunately you’re stuck in the middle!’ Nancy said with emphasis.

  ‘I’m the catalyst,’ Dolly mumbled.

  Nellie and Nancy exchanged a puzzled look, having no idea what Dolly meant.

  ‘Well darlin’, you have to decide whether to do this or not,’ Nellie said gently.

  Drawing a breath Dolly answered quickly. ‘If you’re both that worried, then I won’t do it. You’re both very dear to me and I won’t have you fretting.’

  Nancy sighed with relief and Nellie nodded her admiration of the girl who was fast becoming a young woman. ‘I’ll let Ezra know straight away he needs to find another way to acquire that house. Dolly, do me a favour and whistle for one of his ragamuffins for me.’

  Dolly grinned and hobbled away.

  ‘Feel better now, Nance?’ Nellie asked a moment later.

  ‘I do, thanks, Nell.’

  ‘Me an’ all.’

  The two old friends shared a warm smile as they awaited Dolly’s return.

  Ezra threw a tanner to the urchin who had delivered the message from Nellie, then he rubbed his chin as he contemplated what to do next.

  He really should have known better than to approach Nellie Larkin for assistance, but he had done just that. Now he was in a pickle. A quick thought flitted through his mind of having Arthur disappear, but he dismissed it.

  Taking the contract from the drawer he read it again. The deal was that Arthur would pay when Dolly was delivered to him and if he couldn’t pay, then he would forfeit his property. There was nothing in the agreement about the necklace.

  Ezra replaced the paper in the desk. It looked like he was going to miss out on the gems; would he lose the property too? As much as he didn’t wish to, he thought he should meet up with Nellie again. Despite it sticking in his craw to have to go crawling to Nellie, maybe between them they could find a solution to his problem.


  On his way out of the office he called to the two men he’d spoken to earlier. ‘Hold off on that assignment…’ Seeing their bemused expressions he sighed and clarified his statement. ‘That job – until I tell you.’

  ‘Righto, Mr Morton,’ the more vocal of the two said.

  Outside the works, Ezra whistled to a cabbie. ‘Crown Saloon’, he said as he climbed aboard. The cab crawled slowly through the snowy streets, the horse’s hooves occasionally slipping on the icy cobblestones.

  Delivered safely at last, Ezra asked the cabbie to wait before striding into the gin palace.

  Nellie saw him coming; she had expected this and led him into the kitchen. Holding up a hand she said, ‘Before you say anything, none of us were really comfortable with the arrangement.’

  ‘Fair enough,’ Ezra said with a little smile.

  ‘Summat tells me you’ve had another idea, am I right?’ Nellie asked warily.

  Ezra nodded. ‘Indeed, and this one doesn’t involve Dolly!’

  ‘Nance, best get the kettle on,’ Nellie said with a laugh. Then turning to Ezra she asked, ‘What’s on yer mind then?’

  Having outlined his plan, Ezra left Nellie to discuss it with the others; she promised to let him know the outcome the following day.

  Pushing his way through the crowded bar, Ezra spied Mr Sharpe coming towards him. ‘I didn’t think to see you in a place like this, Mr Sharpe.’

  ‘Likewise, Mr Morton,’ the solicitor answered.

  ‘On business, are we?’ Ezra was fishing for information.

  ‘Not yours,’ Sharpe said with a raise of his eyebrows. Ezra wouldn’t get a bite from this pool that was for sure.

  With a huge belly laugh Ezra left the bar but his curiosity had been aroused. What was that solicitor doing in Nellie’s place? Certainly not drinking gin. No matter, he felt sure he would find out sooner or later.

  Back inside, Mr Sharpe was ushered into the kitchen where he laid the mortgage contract on the table. ‘There you go, Nellie, your agreement with the bank to repay said amount each month,’ Sharpe tapped the document lightly.