The Five Shilling Children

by Lindsey Hutchinson

  ‘Just put that pot over there, Polly my wench, there’s a good girl.’ Mabel praised the timid youngster and received a warm smile in return.

  A short time later, the hand bell rang and the children filed in for their food. They were ravenous after all the hard work they’d put in helping with the move. Besides, they would need energy for the afternoon as there was still more work to do. The workmen had set up the table and chairs in the dining room and the children now sat with plates of grey peas and groarty pudding – a beef, groats and onion stew – as well as hot fresh bread.

  The fog slowly lifted as the day wore on to linger as an eerie mist floating around the tops of the buildings. The smoke from chimneys turned the mist to a dirty grey colour almost looking like the forewarning of a storm.

  By early evening everyone was tired to the bone, but the move was complete.

  Una Reed locked the large wrought iron gate and looked around. The new house was surrounded by trees shielding them from the houses that lined the roadways. It was a microcosm of countryside in the centre of a large town. Una smiled her satisfaction and went indoors.

  It was following their evening meal that all hell broke loose. Polly was screaming the place down and Adam rushed to see what had happened.

  She was standing in the hallway sobbing when Adam reached her. ‘Whatever is the matter?’

  ‘He took my apple!’ Polly cried.

  Adam’s eyes moved to where Polly pointed. He saw Rodney biting into the fruit, a wicked smile on his face. Seeing his sister so distraught was enough for Adam to launch himself at Rodney. Punching and kicking, the boys were suddenly surrounded by the others who were chanting.

  ‘Ad-am! Ad-am!’

  Miss Reed was on the scene in an instant and pulled the boys apart. ‘What is the meaning of this?!’ she asked sternly as she looked at Adam’s split lip.

  ‘He took our Polly’s apple, Miss, and she was crying. I ain’t havin’ that!’ Adam replied wiping his mouth on his sleeve.

  ‘Is that correct, Rodney?’ Una asked knowing full well the Fitch boy had spoken the truth.

  ‘So what if it is? I was ’ungry!’ Rodney sneered. ‘Her weren’t eatin’ it anyway.’

  ‘That is what is known as stealing, Mr Dukes,’ Una said snatching the half-eaten fruit away from the boy.

  ‘Hey!’ he protested as he reached to take back the apple.

  Una slapped his hand away saying, ‘I could report you to the police for this offence.’ She eyed the boy. She had known he would upset the regime sooner or later; she had been waiting for it.

  ‘Go on then! I don’t care!’ Rodney made to walk away but was caught by his arm and spun around.

  ‘I haven’t finished with you yet! How dare you turn your back on me! You are a rude little boy, Rodney Dukes, and you are now a thief! These are things I will not put up with in my orphanage, do you understand?’ Una was furious with the arrogant child.

  ‘Ar I do, but you know what? I still don’t care!’ Rodney answered as he shrugged his shoulders.

  ‘You will eventually, Rodney, believe me you will!’ Una growled before grabbing his ear and, ignoring his howling, she marched him away.

  Miss Ashby had also rushed to the scene and said gently, ‘Mr Fitch, be kind enough to ask Cook for another apple for Polly please.’

  May held Polly’s hand as they and the others followed Adam to the kitchen.

  ‘Blimey Adam, you gave him what for and no mistake!’ Joe said, a big grin splitting his pale face.

  ‘Good on yer.’ Matt congratulated the young boy who had fought for his sister.

  ‘I can’t believe how you pummelled him!’ Arthur added.

  Adam was still smarting at the effrontery of Dukes. Stealing food was bad enough, but from his sister? There was no way Adam was going to allow that.

  ‘Ta, Ad’,’ Polly sniffed when he passed her a fresh apple.

  The boy nodded and turned to the cook. ‘Thanks, Mrs Elliot.’

  ‘You’re welcome, lad. Now let’s have a look at that split lip.’ Adam winced as the cook bathed his lip with salt water. ‘There now, it’ll be sore for a couple of days but you’ll be all right.’ Mrs Elliot smiled warmly at the boy who had quietly become her favourite.

  Thanking the cook once more, Adam joined his friends outside.

  ‘I wonder what’s happened to Rodney,’ Joe said.

  ‘I’m not bothered as long as he stays away from me!’ Adam replied as he touched his stinging lip.

  Later, as everyone readied themselves for bed, they could hear Rodney banging and yelling to be let out. Evidently, he was locked in the ‘box’ again, wherever it was in the new house. For hours the children lay in bed listening to the racket before finally it went deathly quiet.

  ‘Thank goodness for that,’ Joe whispered.

  Adam nodded his agreement in the darkness of their room.

  Although everyone was tired, none slept well. In their minds was an image of what it must be like inside the ‘box’.

  Una Reed had also lain awake listening to the boy who was proving quite a challenge. Every day was a battle of wills and Una knew she dare not give an inch, for if she did the war would be lost.

  She had run the orphanage according to her own rules for years. Politeness and respect was given and received; punctuality – Una hated lateness; praise rewarded good behaviour and discipline kept an orderly house.

  Una had dealt with unruly children before but there was something different about Rodney. It was as though he had no fear of anything or anyone. He showed no respect for people or objects and Una, in a moment’s weakness, worried she might not cope.

  Giving herself a mental shake, she determined that Rodney Dukes would conform to house rules no matter how long it took. The boy was already twelve years old and, in a few years, he would be needing to work. With an attitude like his, Rodney would find it impossible to secure a job. Una was determined that it would be her guidance that would help him on his way in life, providing of course the boy would submit to it. He was certainly stubborn and arrogant, but these were traits which could be lessened over time. Una knew she would have her patience sorely tested with each new day.

  5

  Rodney did indeed stay away from Adam from then on, and it was one Sunday morning after church service that Adam overheard a conversation he thought might benefit him.

  Miss Reed, he noted, was chatting with the vicar while two men from the congregation were speaking quietly together. Adam heard a name mentioned which rang a bell with him.

  ‘Well, he ain’t as good as the ‘Tipton Slasher’ so the old ’uns say, but he’s a clever bloke. He’s up agen Jack Magrum – be advised and put yer money on Billy Marshall,’ one man said.

  ‘Ar I will. Where is it they’m goin’ at it?’ the second asked.

  ‘The back of the old orphanage on Jenner Street. The building is empty now so it’s out of the way of prying eyes,’ the first man said.

  ‘When?’

  ‘Tomorrer evening at seven o’clock.’

  Adam had listened carefully to the conversation and joining the others to walk back to Reed House, as it had now become, he processed his thoughts.

  Recalling the story of the ‘Tipton Slasher’ as told by his father, Adam’s memory took him step by step.

  William Perry, later to become known as the ‘Tipton Slasher’ was a pugilist and had at one time attained the title of Champion of England. Although Perry had died ten years ago in 1880, his conquests were still talked about. He was a man revered for his slashing right arm. Bare-knuckle fighting was still a popular sport in the ‘Black Country’, and many men betted heavily on one or the other of the boxers. The fights were conducted in the utmost secrecy so the constabulary could not get wind of them and interfere. Some battles were stopped by the police, but everyone simply moved to another location to continue.

  Adam thought this particular fight being on the old orphanage ground was great luck. Now all he had to do was find
a way to attend. He realised, after his contretemps with Rodney, that he needed to learn to fight. It was not his intention ever to box for money, but in order to protect himself and Polly, he needed instruction.

  Later, in the garden, Adam spoke quietly with his friends. He told them what he’d overheard and what his plan was.

  ‘First thing is, you have to get out of here without Old Reedy finding out,’ Joe said.

  ‘There’s a hole in the hedge over there,’ Arthur said helpfully.

  The boys made their way over to the hole and Adam grinned. He could squeeze through there easily.

  ‘What happens if Old Reedy does find out?’ Matt asked.

  ‘She mustn’t!’ Adam said forcefully, ‘and we can’t tell the girls either, because our Polly will throw a tantrum.’

  ‘If the fight is tomorrow, we ain’t got much time to hatch a plan,’ Joe said before puffing out his cheeks and raising his ginger eyebrows.

  ‘Look, I’ll say I’ve got a bellyache and I’m going to bed but only to the girls, otherwise Miss Reed or Miss Ashby will be doctorin’ me,’ Adam whispered. ‘What I need is for you lot to keep Polly and May amused for an hour or so.’

  ‘How?’ Matt asked brushing his hand through his thick black hair.

  ‘You’ll have to – have a tea party with them.’

  ‘You what?!’ Arthur gasped.

  ‘Come on, mate, it’s only for an hour then I’ll be back. I’d do it for you,’ Adam coaxed.

  Arthur relented with a nod, as did Matt and Joe.

  ‘I’ll ask Mrs Elliot if we can have some little cakes and some crockery. I’ll tell her we want to surprise the girls and join in their game.’ Joe beamed at what he saw as a good idea, pretending to hold a cup daintily with a pinky finger raised.

  ‘Thanks, lads, I appreciate it.’ Adam grinned at Matt and Arthur who grimaced at Joe’s suggestion.

  ‘One thing,’ Arthur spoke up, ‘when you’re a real boxer, you have to lamp Rodney Dukes good and proper.’

  ‘I will – but only if he asks for it,’ Adam said.

  Their plan formulated, the boys were excited about their secret conspiracy; each eagerly awaiting the time to cover Adam’s daring escape.

  Even if they were caught, Miss Reed couldn’t put them all in the ‘box’ – could she?

  *

  Monday morning arrived and with it came the fog. Adam was pleased – it would not only mask his flight from Reed House, but it would also shield the fight from anyone who might want to inform the police.

  As Joe finished his porridge, he stood to take his dish back saying, ‘Here goes, wish me luck.’

  Going straight to Mrs Elliot, he whispered and, for the other boys’ benefit, put his finger to his lips.

  Mrs Elliot grinned and nodded then Joe returned to the table. ‘It’s all set. Mrs Elliot is going to bake a few cakes and set us a tray with cups, saucers and teapot full of tea.’

  ‘Well done, Joe!’ Adam congratulated his friend. ‘Now we just have to wait.’

  The morning seemed to drag by for all of them, and at lunchtime the boys were given their food accompanied by a beaming smile from the cook for their thoughtfulness at surprising the little girls with a tea party.

  Fish in lemon sauce with mashed potatoes and peas was devoured with gusto before the children returned to class for a singing lesson.

  At quarter to seven that evening Adam spoke quietly to Polly. ‘I’ve got a bellyache so I’m going to bed. Polly, don’t tell Miss Reed because she’ll give me some Indian Brandee and you know how vile that is.’

  ‘All right, Ad’,’ Polly said as she screwed up her nose at the thought of the medicine.

  Nodding to the boys, Adam left the big living room. Taking a quick glance around and seeing no-one, he shot out of the front door closing it quietly behind him. The darkness and thick fog covered his getaway as he ran towards the hole in the hedge. Squeezing through he took to his heels. He ran to Jenner Street and slipped behind the building of the old orphanage.

  Staying out of sight he saw men huddled around each pugilist. They were placing their bets with a man standing close by. The fighters wore only knee-length breeches and simple shoes. Coached and massaged by their seconds, they were nodding and readying themselves for the battle. Each fighter eyed his opponent in the dim light of a few lanterns placed on the ground. They were weighing up their chance of winning.

  The referee clapped his hands twice and called the fighters together, where they shook hands before taking up their stance. One foot behind the other and fists raised they waited for the referee to signal for them to begin.

  Adam moved silently forward into the circle of men watching. A man moved aside to welcome him in. ‘C’mon little ’un, get in ’ere by me.’

  Adam nodded his thanks.

  The referee’s arm came down sharply and he took a step back.

  Adam watched in awe as the boxers circled each other then he winced as the first punch landed. There was a murmur from the crowd but Adam kept his eyes on the fight.

  Round after round the men punched out at each other. Magrum’s eyebrow opened and poured blood; his eyes began to swell and close. Adam was sickened at the brutality of it but he was also morbidly fascinated.

  At last, both pugilists panting hard and clearly weary to the bone, it was Jack Magrum’s second who threw up the sponge and it was all over. Billy Marshall had won. The crowd began to disperse, some happily collecting their winnings – others bemoaning their losses.

  Adam stepped closer to where the winner was having his face bathed in cold water.

  ‘Mr Marshall,’ he said timidly.

  ‘Yes, lad?’

  ‘Mr Marshall, will you teach me to fight like that?’

  ‘What’s yer name boy?’ Billy asked as he pushed his second’s hand away from his face.

  ‘Adam Fitch sir, I’m from the orphanage.’

  Billy Marshall was shocked as he looked at the boy standing before him. It had been a long time since he’d heard the name Fitch. ‘Why do yer want to learn to box, Adam?’

  ‘I have to look out for myself and my little sister against a bully.’ Adam’s words came out as a croak as he fought against tears. He didn’t want this man to see him cry.

  ‘Adam, this is a mug’s game. I box because I can’t get work and it pays the bills, but look at me – better still, look at Jack Magrum.’ Billy shook his head and winced as the salt water once again touched his cut lip.

  ‘But you won, Mr Marshall!’ Adam was fearful his request would be denied.

  ‘This time I did, but what about next time? I could be blinded or have my brains bashed out.’ Billy was trying his best to dissuade the boy from taking up this brutal profession.

  ‘Mr Marshall, I don’t want to fight for money, sir. I just want to protect our Polly and stand up for what’s right.’

  ‘Well said, lad!’ Jimmy, Billy’s second, grinned in the dim light of the hurricane lamps set on the ground.

  Billy gave Jimmy a glare which could sour milk, and the man went back to his task of bathing the boxer’s face.

  ‘The trouble is – I can’t pay you to teach me because I don’t have any money,’ Adam said as his hopes fell further.

  Billy looked at his second who nodded with a tight smile.

  ‘Tell you what, Adam Fitch, you managed to sneak out to watch me fight. You stood here like a man and asked me to help you. You were honest enough about having no money an’ all. So, here’s what I’ll do – I’ll teach you, but only on the promise you don’t ever become a professional pugilist,’ Billy said.

  ‘I promise! Cross my heart and hope to die!’ Adam said as he signed the cross over his heart.

  ‘Well, there ain’t no need to go that far,’ Billy laughed. ‘All right then, every night here at seven.’

  ‘Mr Marshall sir, could we make it after lights out because my friends are covering for me right now. It will be easier to get out later.’ Adam held his breath wondering if he had
taken his requests a step too far.

  ‘How’s about ten o’clock then?’ Billy asked.

  ‘That would be marvellous! Thanks ever so, Mr Marshall. I’ll be a good learn… pupil you’ll see.’

  Adam was elated as he ran back to Reed House. Now he had to sneak back inside undetected.

  ‘What do you make of that?’ the second asked in astonishment.

  ‘I never thought to see the day Jimmy, not after all these years,’ Billy said as they gathered up the lanterns and walked away.

  Adam held his breath as he approached the house. The fog swirled around him but he was still afraid of being seen.

  Opening the door slowly and praying the old hinges would not squeak, he peeped into the hall. Swivelling his eyes in all directions he breathed a sigh of relief that there was no one about. Quaking, he stepped inside and closed the door as quietly as he could. With a leap and a bound he was across the foyer to the stairs which he took two at a time and raced along the landing to his room.

  Safely inside he grinned – he had made it!

  Whilst Adam was creeping back into the orphanage, Billy Marshall’s mind was flooded with memories. He had once known a woman called Minnie Fitch who had been seeing his friend Ronald, albeit that she was married at the time. An image of the blue-eyed blonde beauty rose in his mind’s eye and Billy smiled. He had fallen head over heels in love at that moment of first meeting her, but she was Ronald’s lady.

  Then came the tragedy of his friend’s death and although Billy searched high and low, he could find no trace of Minnie. The years had rolled by but his love for her never faded.

  Now young Adam had come into his life and Billy instinctively knew he was Minnie’s boy. How and why he came to be in the orphanage Billy didn’t know, but he felt sure in time he would find out.

  *

  The tea party had been a huge success and the girls were delighted. Now everyone was in bed Joe asked, ‘How are you gonna get in and out, Adam? Old Reedy locks all the doors at night.’

  ‘I’m not sure as yet, Joe, but I’ll think of something,’ Adam said with a confidence he didn’t feel.