The Children from Gin Barrel Lane

by Lindsey Hutchinson

  Nellie smiled inwardly, feeling very lucky to have such a close-knit family. Then she considered what Aggie had told her. Why would Arthur say she was out to ruin Ezra? How did he think she could accomplish such a thing? Was she seen as a threat by Ezra?

  ‘Summat on yer mind, Nell?’ Nancy asked.

  Jack and Dolly’s ears pricked up at the question.

  Nellie nodded, then explained her thoughts.

  ‘Why would Ezra be afraid of you?’ Nancy asked incredulously.

  However, it was Dolly who answered. ‘He’s probably concerned you’re stealing all his staff.’

  ‘I ain’t, though!’ Nellie replied hotly.

  ‘I know, but I imagine he thinks you are coaxing them into your employ. He must see himself losing the power he once held over the town and that would frighten him,’ Dolly said wisely. ‘Look at it this way, you paid off your loan to him and he doesn’t know how. You allowed Poppy to make up her own mind about him before she brushed him off and he has no idea why. You’ve invested in another property – which he’s bound to know about by now – but he’s at a loss as to how you’ve managed it. Oh, and you outsmarted him regarding the deliveries from another supplier – I almost forgot that.’ Dolly grinned, seeing Nellie mentally ticking off her achievements.

  ‘Yes, but all that was down to you really, sweetheart. You’re the one who guided my hand and I’m grateful for it.’ Nellie nodded with a beaming smile.

  ‘Maybe I helped a little, but Ezra is in the dark about it all and that’s what must irk him. He’s not in control of you and your business any more. And another thing, his staff are like rats leaving a sinking ship, and where are they going? To you, Nellie.’ Dolly glanced around to see Jack and Nancy nod in agreement.

  ‘Nellie!’ Poppy’s voice echoed through to the kitchen.

  ‘Now what? There’s always a bloody crisis in this place!’ Nellie grumbled as she got to her feet.

  ‘Somebody to see you,’ Poppy said as she led a couple of suited men into the kitchen.

  ‘Gents. What can I do for you?’ Nellie asked as she eyed the burly men standing meekly before her.

  ‘No wonder Ezra’s afraid,’ Nancy muttered under her breath, ‘two more defecating!’

  Jack and Dolly giggled loudly at the malapropism. ‘Defecting, Nancy,’ Dolly corrected her gently.

  ‘That an’ all,’ Nancy mumbled.

  ‘We was wondering if you had any jobs going, Mrs Larkin,’ one said.

  Nellie sighed. Inviting the men to sit and take a sup, she listened to their reasons for wanting to leave Ezra. Much the same as the others, they were fed up of doing Ezra’s dirty work and being shunned by the townsfolk.

  ‘What’s yer names?’ Nellie asked.

  ‘Billy and Bobby – we’m bruthers, ain’t we?’ the other said.

  ‘Dolly, you’ll need doormen over the road when it’s up and running,’ Nellie said.

  The two men glanced at the young girl, unsure why Nellie was consulting her. Dolly nodded and their attention returned to Nellie.

  ‘Right then. Here’s the offer, gents. Dolly here is to manage The Castle once it’s renovated – which should be in the next week or so. She’ll need men on the door so you’d be working for her,’ Nellie explained.

  ‘Her? She’s only a kid!’ Bobby exclaimed.

  ‘Offer is on the table this one time, fellas. Take it or leave it.’ Nellie waited as the two exchanged a glance.

  ‘What’s the wages?’ Billy asked eventually.

  ‘Same as the Jenkins boys working my bar. I’m sure they will have told you already as I know you lot keep in touch whoever you work for.’

  A sheepish look crossed their faces as they grinned. ‘Nothing gets past you does it, Mrs Larkin?’ Bobby said.

  ‘Call me, Nellie, lads. So, you gonna look after my little wench and her gin palace then, or what?’ Nods came quickly and Nellie spoke again. ‘All right, but Dolly will be your boss – you remember that and treat her with respect.’

  Billy turned to the young girl watching the proceedings and spoke quietly. ‘Thank you, Miss Dolly.’

  ‘You’re welcome. I’ll see you at the end of next week when hopefully we’ll be open for business.’

  When the men had gone, Nellie and Dolly burst out laughing when Nancy said, ‘The animals came in two by two.’

  Fred, who had gone outside for a smoke, suddenly rushed in saying, ‘Dolly, your first delivery has arrived!’

  Grabbing her cane, Dolly ambled outside, followed closely by Nellie and Fred.

  ‘I’ll get yer cellar sorted out with the barrels now that it’s all clean and tidy,’ Fred said.

  Dolly smiled her thanks. A moment later Jack was at her side. ‘Blimey, Dolly – it’s really happening now!’

  ‘Come over and have a look,’ Dolly returned.

  Jack, with his arm in a sling, and Dolly with her walking cane crossed the street and stood looking at the front of the building.

  Shiny new glass had been fitted and gas lamps hung on the wall on either side of the door. The sign, Daydream Palace, written in gold on a black background, was in place and as they entered Jack gasped. The bar room was massive. There were gas wall lights and two great chandeliers hung from the ceiling. A huge mirror lined the back wall reflecting light back into the room. Small kegs displaying the names of the different gins stood like a line of soldiers in front of the mirror. A layer of clean sawdust on the floor gave off a woody fragrance as Jack and Dolly walked over it. The walls had been whitewashed, then painted with murals. Scenes from myths and legends adorned the room, bringing the whole place alive. The huge counter was polished mahogany and the big black till was placed between the central two kegs.

  They heard Fred down in the cellar grunting with the effort of shifting barrels. The clinking of glass said the bottles and drinking glasses had also arrived.

  ‘Dolly, you’ll need a cellar man and bar staff,’ Jack said at last.

  ‘I know. Your mum is asking the Jenkins family, on my behalf, if some of them would like to work here,’ she replied.

  ‘Good. They’re a nice bunch.’

  ‘What is it, Jack? What’s troubling you?’

  ‘Everything is changing, Dolly. You’ll be here and I’ll be over there,’ he tilted his head in the direction of The Crown, ‘it won’t be the same any more!’ Jack said, stifling a tear.

  ‘We have to move with the times, Jack. I know it’s hard but that’s life. Sometimes new doors open and we have to walk through them. Anyway, you can pop over any time you like,’ Dolly assured him.

  Having completed the grand tour of the whole building they returned to Nellie’s kitchen.

  ‘Ah, there you are, I’ve heard back from the Jenkins family. Juliet and Janice have accepted the offer to work the bar with you, Dolly. They’ll be popping in later to have a word. Now, if you’ll take my advice you’d do well to have them move in first so you ain’t on yer own at night when you go over,’ Nellie said.

  ‘Good idea. I wonder, Nancy, if you have a few moments – would you help me get a couple of rooms ready. One for the Jenkins girls and one for myself. Then tomorrow I think it will be time to move in.’ Dolly spoke gently knowing what a wrench it would be for the woman who was like a second mum to her.

  Nancy simply nodded, unable to trust herself to speak for fear of bursting into tears.

  The following day would see Dolly Perkins embark on a great new adventure and she could hardly contain her excitement.

  41

  Elizabeth Murray picked up the newspaper and frowned. The Birmingham Post had become the Birmingham Daily Post. Just another way to entice new readers and make more money, she thought with disgust.

  Every day she had scoured the newsprint in the hope of seeing that Gabriel Short had been arrested, and each day she had been disappointed.

  Laying the paper in her lap, Elizabeth thought back to the day she had visited the police station to report Short for thieving. She had heard nothing
since. However, one good thing had come out of the whole debacle – her mother and Ann Bradshaw had become firm friends sharing afternoon tea and gossip as well as trips out to the theatre. Two lonely women drawn together by an inept charlatan.

  Elizabeth stared into space as she wondered what had become of Mr Short. Was he still living in Rea Terrace? Had he in fact been apprehended and she had somehow missed the reporting of it? Maybe he had absconded with the intention of trying his luck in another town. He could, at this very moment, be duping some other poor woman out of her money and possessions.

  With a small shake of her head, Elizabeth knew it would serve no purpose to revisit the police station; they would tell her nothing. She could take a little jaunt to Rea Terrace though, if only to satisfy her curiosity.

  Tossing the newspaper aside she got to her feet. Dressing warmly, she set out and walked briskly to beat off the cold. One way or another I’ll see you behind bars, Gabriel Short, she thought as she stepped swiftly but carefully along the frosty streets.

  Eventually coming to number twenty seven, she rapped the knocker with gusto. After a moment she banged the door with her gloved fist.

  ‘Can I ’elp yer?’ came a gruff voice.

  Elizabeth turned to see a well-built woman leaning on the fence that separated the properties. Her straggly hair looked like it had not been brushed in an age and her teeth were turning black.

  ‘I hope so. I’m look for Mr Gabriel Short,’ Elizabeth answered.

  ‘Ain’t nobody of that name living there, me duck,’ the woman said in a friendly manner.

  ‘Oh, has he moved away then do you know?’

  The woman shook her head. ‘Like I said, there’s no Mr Short there.’

  ‘But I visited him here a while ago with my mother and a friend,’ Elizabeth said, confused.

  ‘Ar, I remember seeing you.’ The woman nodded as she spoke.

  ‘Then you will surely know we met Mr Short,’ Elizabeth said, the frustration building inside her.

  ‘Look, missus, I can see you’m a lady which tells me you ain’t dim witted, so what part of this ain’t you understanding?’ The woman ran a sleeve beneath her nose and sniffed.

  With a wince, Elizabeth said, ‘Maybe we should begin again. Can you tell me who lives here?’

  ‘I can that,’ the woman answered.

  Waiting for more, Elizabeth pushed her head forward. ‘Well?’

  ‘Well, what?’

  ‘Well, who does live here?’

  ‘Mr Arthur Micklewhite. Lived there for years. After his wife passed, it was just him and the little wench,’ the neighbour said finally.

  ‘Little wen… girl?’

  ‘Ar, Arthur’s step-daughter. About twelve years old I would say, but she run off shortly after her mum died.’

  ‘Why?’ Elizabeth asked.

  ‘What am I – the Birmingham Daily bleedin’ Post?!’ the woman huffed.

  ‘Sorry,’ Elizabeth said, suitably chastised. ‘Is Mr Micklewhite working then?’

  The woman shook her head with a laugh. ‘That lazy bugger ain’t never worked a day in his life. Lived off his wife he did. Swaggering around lording it over everybody, but that soon changed when he was on his own. Living in muck now he is.’ The woman wrinkled her nose and sniffed again.

  ‘I see. Well, thank you very much for your help,’ Elizabeth said and turned to walk away.

  ‘Hey, missus,’ called the woman and when Elizabeth faced her once more, she added, ‘He was hauled away by two big blokes t’other day, and I ain’t seen hair nor hide of him since.’ Then she held out her hand saying, ‘Nothing’s for free in this world.’

  Digging in her drawstring bag, Elizabeth produced a florin and placed it in the outstretched hand. The woman nodded her thanks before biting down on the coin.

  Walking away, Elizabeth’s mind whirled around the information she had gleaned from the neighbour. So, Gabriel Short was not his real name after all. It could be that Arthur Micklewhite was not genuine either. If that was the case then who was this man? Where did he hail from and where was he now?

  Reaching home, Elizabeth knew she had reached a dead end. She could go no further in her quest to see that dreadful man get his just deserts. The thought was like bitter aloes to her after all she’d done to try and get him off the streets.

  The only thing left to her now was to continue to read the newspapers and hope to read that Arthur, aka Gabriel Short, had been detained at Her Majesty’s pleasure in Stafford Gaol.

  Whilst Elizabeth was endeavouring to track down the person she hated with a vengeance, Ezra Morton was trying to decide what should be done with the same man. Arthur Micklewhite had made a serious attempt to flee whilst owing Ezra money, and that simply couldn’t be allowed to happen. Now he was being held in a cellar not far away. The question was – how to deal with him.

  Ezra knew he would never get his money; Arthur was as poor as a church mouse. The house in Rea Terrace could not be his either while Arthur still lived. However, if the man was to pass into the next life, then Ezra could take possession of the property. Should he be challenged regarding ownership, then he had the contract to prove his legal right to the building.

  Taking the document from the desk drawer, Ezra read it through once more and smiled, then he gave a whistle. A moment later the door opened to admit one of his minions. Waving the paper in the air, Ezra said, ‘I have a job for you.’

  Meanwhile, over at Daydream Palace, the Hodges family were working like Trojans. The bar room and kitchen were all finished and now they were whitewashing the bedrooms. In the next couple of days Dolly and her new staff would move in and the place would be open to the public.

  Word of the renovations had spread rapidly around the town and folk had taken a few minutes out of their daily lives to stop and watch. Some were eager to pass on the knowledge that a new gin palace was opening up; others were disgusted and grumbled that more lives would be ruined by mother’s ruin.

  Excitement in the kitchen of The Crown Saloon was building with everything they had to look forward to, from the grand opening of the new premises to Nancy and Fred’s wedding.

  There was a sadness too. Dolly was moving out and it seemed like the family was splitting up, for all she would only be across the road.

  Nellie voiced this thought, and Dolly responded with, ’It’s progress, Nellie. Nothing stays the same for long except our love for each other. That will remain strong for the rest of our lives.’

  That night, when all were asleep and the saloon was dark and quiet, Nellie’s thoughts roamed over all that had happened since Dolly had come into their lives. An old head on young shoulders, Dolly had sorted out each problem wisely. She had taught Jack to read well and eased his discovery of Nellie not being his real mother. She’d been like a daughter to Nancy and a good friend to Poppy.

  Even though Dolly would only be a few steps away she would leave a space in the saloon kitchen that could never be filled.

  Nellie’s tears fell in the darkness of her bedroom. Silent and hot they trickled down her face as she prayed.

  Dear Lord, take care of that young girl who I love like my own. Let her be successful in her endeavours and one day have a husband and children of her own.

  Nellie buried her nose beneath the covers and the warmth helped dry her tears. She thought about all of those who had joined her family, and she thanked God for every single one of them. Closing her eyes, a smile lifted the corners of her mouth and before long she felt herself drifting into sleep.

  42

  The day for Fred and Nancy’s wedding arrived and there was great excitement in the kitchen at The Crown.

  Fred was having enormous difficulty in tying his cravat so Noah lent a hand. Matthew helped him on with his jacket and Jim passed him his top hat. Once ready, the men led a very nervous Fred out to the waiting cab.

  ‘I want to wait for Nancy,’ he protested.

  ‘You can’t, mate. You ain’t allowed to see her on the weddi
ng day until she gets to the church,’ John said.

  ‘Why not?’ Fred asked innocently as he was bundled into the carriage.

  ‘Cos it’s bad luck, now come on!’ Noah explained.

  ‘Oh, right.’ Fred settled on the seat and then began tapping his foot.

  Laying a hand on the bouncing knee to still it, Jim assured him. ‘Nancy will be getting ready now and you’ll be wed inside the hour.’

  Back in the kitchen, Poppy was tying a ribbon around the waist of Dolly’s pale blue organza dress.

  ‘Keep still, girl!’ Poppy said with a laugh.

  ‘I’m sorry, but I’ve never had sky blue shoes before!’ Dolly replied as she leaned forward, yet again, to take another look.

  Sat at the table, Jack slapped on his cap then shook his head. Women!

  He sipped his tea, being careful not to drip it onto his new suit. Propping his feet up on another kitchen chair he admired his own footwear. His first pair of black boots which made him feel very grown up. All his life he’d had brown ones, as did most boys, but now he was one of the men.

  He glanced at Poppy, who was looking very glamorous in a midnight blue velvet suit. Her hat, which she was just now fitting into place with a pearl hatpin, was a percher style made popular by their beloved Queen Victoria. Her black side-button boots were polished to give a brilliant shine.

  A noise on the stairs told them Nellie was on her way down and they all gasped as she stepped into the room. Her suit was burgundy velvet trimmed with black silk. She had decided not to wear a bustle, the skirt was left to drape in a short train. On her head was a cartwheel hat of matching feathers.

  ‘Oh, Nellie! You look beautiful!’ Dolly said.