The boys’ shocked faces cut her to the bone as she explained that if it was up to her, they could stay. Close to tears, Ruth left them to discuss their future. She desperately wanted to help them but there was nothing she could do. She had no money to spare and could very well find herself out of a home and job if she went against Una’s edicts. Making her way to the kitchen, she felt thoroughly miserable.
‘I’ve told them,’ Ruth said rather sharply as she spied Una accepting a cup of tea.
‘And?’ Una asked.
‘Well as you can imagine, they’re upset and worried,’ Ruth said as she nodded at the teapot held out towards her.
Mabel Elliot poured the tea feeling Dilys’ questioning gaze burning into her. Glancing up at the maid, Mabel’s eyebrows flicked up towards her hairline. She had no notion of what was going on but felt they would find out soon enough.
‘To be expected,’ Una said. Then she spoke to the cook. ‘Ruth has informed the older boys they must move on by the end of the week.’
The cook and the maid shot daggers at the woman now taking a seat by the huge table.
‘It wasn’t my idea!’ Ruth said in her own defence as she saw the scowls directed at her.
Three pairs of eyes then moved to Una. ‘We have to economise. It’s time to save money otherwise we will all end up in the workhouse. Therefore, Mabel, you must cut down the portions given to the children.’
A shocked expression crossed the cook’s face as she asked, ‘And what about the adults’ portions?’
‘Those too,’ Una said with a snort. ‘These are my orders and I expect them to be carried out without question.’ Standing, Una nodded once and strode from the room her grey bombazine dress rustling about her legs.
‘Well!’ Mabel gasped. ‘I’ve never heard the like!’
‘It’s all about the money, Mabel, it always has been for Una.’ Ruth’s blonde hair bobbed behind its pins as she shook her head.
‘Whatever are those boys gonna do if they can’t find a house to live in?’ Dilys wailed.
‘They will be back where they started except further on in years. They each have work which is a blessing, but they will be back on the streets; unloved and unwanted.’ Ruth dabbed at an escaping tear.
‘It’s a bloody disgrace if you ask me!’ Mabel exploded. ‘She took them in when they was nowt but babbies, and now she’s chucking them out!’
‘Smaller children eat less, Mabel, and their clothes are not so expensive,’ Ruth said on a sigh.
‘Why couldn’t she have told them herself?’ Dilys asked.
Ruth merely shook her head.
It was Mabel who answered. ‘Cos she don’t want to be seen as the villain of the piece, that’s why!’
‘What will she do about the empty rooms then?’ Dilys’ quiet question came timidly.
‘Fill them with younger children would be my guess; ones who could be sold on to wealthy families.’ Ruth’s answer was barely more than a whisper. ‘I’m afraid there’s not much we can do about it.’
The three women sat in silence as they finished their tea.
*
The following day there was a light covering of snow which had fallen during the night. The lawns were blanketed in white and the bare branches of the trees caught the large fluffy flakes as they dropped silently from the heavens. It had taken everyone by surprise coming so early which heralded a long, hard winter. Adam and Joe shivered as they dressed for breakfast.
‘What are you so excited about?’ Adam asked as he pulled on a thick jersey.
‘It’s my birthday today, I’m eleven now.’ Joe grinned, his ginger hair sticking out all over the place as he tugged his sweater over his head.
‘Happy birthday,’ Adam said with a smile.
‘When’s yours?’ Joe asked before licking his fingers and smoothing them over his head.
‘I don’t know. All I do know is I’m ten and our Polly is nine,’ Adam said with a shrug.
‘Ain’t you ever had a celebration then?’ Joe asked as they left their shared bedroom.
‘No,’ Adam answered sadly.
‘That’s a bugger,’ Joe said as he draped an arm around his friend’s shoulder.
Sat around the table with hot porridge in front of them the others wished Joe a happy birthday. Each of the adults did the same – Miss Reed being the last to do so.
During class Miss Brock instructed each child on how they could make a card for Joe with scraps of paper from her enormous cupboard.
Rodney Dukes scowled at the boy with titian hair who was commanding such attention. The others ignored him but Adam kept a wary eye out as they worked. Rodney had kept to himself over the last few days and bothered no-one since Adam had won their fight.
Adam wondered if the overweight boy was planning something new to disturb the orderly running of the house. It was of no importance now that Adam knew he could best Rodney in a fist fight.
Lunch time saw a bread and butter pudding served for dessert in honour of Joe’s birthday before everyone trooped outside for recreation time.
It was as they were running around that Joe caught a snowball against his ear. Looking around he saw Rodney grinning. Joe ignored him and wiped the snow from his face.
‘I wouldn’t if I were you,’ Adam called out as he watched Rodney form another snowball.
‘Well you ain’t me!’ Rodney said then with a snigger he launched the frozen missile.
Adam watched it fly and smiled as Joe stepped out of its trajectory.
‘Yer missed me!’ Joe yelled.
Rodney’s hackles rose and he ran over to the birthday boy and knocked him to the ground.
Adam strode over to the boys with purpose in his steps. Helping Joe to his feet, Adam turned on Rodney.
‘I thought you might have learned your lesson last time,’ Adam said into the boy’s face.
‘You don’t scare me!’ Rodney yelled but his steps moving backwards belied his words.
‘Look Rodney, I don’t know why you’re always picking on folks; why you’re so mean all the time, but I warn you now – stop it or else!’ Adam pointed his finger to emphasise his meaning.
‘Or else what?’ Rodney laughed but it held an underlying fear.
‘Why are you such a bully?’ Polly asked as she stood behind her big brother.
‘Cos I’m the boss around here so you lot best get used to the idea!’ Rodney swaggered in a circle around the children now gathered together.
‘Last I heard Miss Reed was the gaffer,’ Adam countered.
Slowly the two boys began to walk around each other clearly squaring up for another fight.
‘Old Reedy don’t scare me neither,’ Rodney said with another laugh.
‘Well she should!’ The voice that commanded respect rang out over the snow-covered gardens as Una Reed marched across to the little gathering. ‘Old Reedy is it?’ she asked Rodney who had visibly paled having been caught being disrespectful. ‘Are you trying to humiliate me, Rodney Dukes? Let me inform you, if that is your goal then you have failed. You see I’m a past master at it. Would you care to see how humiliation works?’
Rodney moved back a step away from the beady eyes boring into him.
‘Well? Do you want me to show you? Are you prepared to experience the feeling for yourself?’ Una boomed.
Rodney began to first shake then nod his head, fear preventing him from making a decision.
‘Make up your mind, Rodney, yes or no?’ Una gave him a tight-lipped smile.
‘No, Miss Reed,’ he croaked.
‘Good. Now inside – all of you. And Rodney, let’s have no more of your nonsense!’ Una’s arm shot out towards the building and she watched the children rush indoors.
Throughout the afternoon, Adam kept a close eye on the boy who had yet again caused trouble, and it was Adam’s guess he hadn’t finished yet. He could see the anger and frustration building inside Rodney who was ignoring the lesson on writing given by Miss Brock. Rodney’s chalk scra
ped over his slate as he stared out of the window. It was only when it snapped in his fingers that his attention came back to the classroom.
Looking around him Rodney’s eyes met those of his adversary – Adam Fitch. Rodney glowered and Adam turned away shaking his head.
The fiasco that had taken place in the garden was not over – not by a long chalk. Adam smiled at the pun and ploughed his concentration back into his work.
13
Thinking about her two youngest children in the orphanage, Minnie Fitch had no idea that Adam had learned to box. She was unaware that he not only protected Polly but the other children there too.
Gerald had left early in the morning on yet another quest to find work and Minnie had packed James and Peter off to school.
Sitting alone now in her tiny living room Minnie’s face was a picture of misery. The tears formed as she saw the image of her youngest in her mind’s eye. John, lost to the fever and buried alone out on the heath somewhere. Adam and Polly gone too – would she ever see them again?
Suddenly her all-consuming unhappiness turned to a burning anger. It was all the fault of her lazy good-for-nothing husband, Gerald. She would leave him if only she had somewhere to go. Then again, she had two other children to consider.
Minnie allowed her tears to fall as she came to the sad conclusion – like it or not, she was trapped. Having no money and with no-one to help, she was stuck in a loveless marriage. Short of one of them dying there was no way out for Minnie Fitch.
Trying to rouse herself from the utter despair she was feeling, she wandered into the kitchen and grabbed the besom which stood in the corner. Dragging the bristles over the old cracked tiles she swept the dust out of the back door before replacing the broom in its place. Snatching a rag from the brownstone sink, Minnie pulled out the bucket from beneath. Stepping into the yard she filled it with water from the standpipe. Soaking the rag, she sploshed it onto the kitchen window and began to rub half-heartedly.
‘It’s about time you cleaned those windows.’ Minnie heard the words but didn’t turn to look at the woman who had spoken them.
‘And it’s about time you minded your own business, Flo’ Spittle,’ she returned.
Flo’ and Minnie had been neighbours for twenty years and although they could never be called close friends, they were happy to tolerate each other enough to throw insults.
‘Tea is just mashing,’ Flo’ said, then turned and went indoors.
Minnie threw the rag into the bucket with a splash and dragged her cold wet hands down her dirty apron. Sitting on a chair by Flo’s kitchen table, Minnie watched the woman pouring the strong brew into mugs. She sniffed the aroma of freshly baked cake and her stomach growled in response. Minnie noted Flo’s apron was spotlessly clean over her dark serge skirt.
A slice of cake and mug of tea placed before her, Minnie gave a curt nod by way of thanks. Flo’ inclined her head. As she ate, Minnie studied the woman sat opposite her.
Flo’ Spittle had married well, her husband Robert being a teller at the London & Midland Bank. He ensured Flo’ wanted for nothing – except children. That was the one thing they were never blessed with.
Florence eyed her neighbour over her mug as she pushed her thick dark hair off her face. ‘Has Gerald had any luck with finding work yet?’ she asked at last.
Minnie shook her head.
‘We were all sorry to hear about your John,’ Flo’ went on.
Minnie’s eyes dropped to her cup.
‘Adam and Polly an’ all,’ Flo’ continued.
Minnie knew she meant well and the words were not said out of malice.
‘Flo’, I had no choice…’
‘I know that, wench, we all do.’ Flo’ swung her arm out indicating the row of houses they lived in.
Minnie knew the selling of her children would not have remained a secret for long. She swallowed back her tears as she rose from her seat. ‘Best finish my winders.’
‘Hang on.’ Flo’ moved to a cupboard and brought back two sausages and two potatoes. ‘Get your boys fed,’ she said as she passed over the food.
‘Ta, Flo’,’ Minnie said gratefully.
Back in her own kitchen Minnie sank onto the wooden chair and wept like her heart would break. Her neighbour had given her some food for her sons but she had no coal to light the fire in order to cook it.
A couple of hours later James and Peter fell in through the back door laughing and joking.
‘Boys fetch the bucket and get off to the slag heaps. Find summat to burn and I’ll cook your tea before your father gets home.’
In a matter of minutes, the lads had changed their clothes and ran from the house. Half an hour later they were back with enough nuggets of coal to light a small fire.
Serving the cooked food on the only two plates she had left intact. Minnie smiled at her eldest son as he cut his sausage in half and offered it to his mother.
‘No, lad, you eat it,’ Minnie said her heart bursting with pride at the gesture.
‘Eat it, mum, before dad gets in,’ James insisted.
Relenting, Minnie took the half sausage with another smile. Peter then followed suit and between them they each had something to eat.
Later, while their mum swilled the plates, the boys took off to the market. The stalls would be closing down for the night and they wanted to be the first scavengers on site. Using a grid pattern, the boys went up one row of stalls and down another, using their jumpers as a pouch to hold anything they could find. Peter grabbed some withered carrots, a couple of potatoes and half a rotten cabbage. James found a mouldy cauliflower and a leek. Holding tight to their prizes they made their way up to the top of the market to Hollingsworth butcher. Mr Hollingsworth was bantering with the women stood in front of his stall as the cold darkness fell.
The boys watched and waited as the lamp-lighter strolled along igniting the gas street lamps. They would stand until Mr Hollingsworth had sold as much as he could, then if he had anything left – and the boys were lucky – he would give them some leftovers. It was gone midnight when the last woman hurried away into the pitch-black night. The boys stepped forward saying not a word. They felt Mr Hollingsworth’s eyes on them in the light of the lanterns hanging on his stall. Shaking his head sorrowfully, he hooked a finger and the lads moved towards him.
Wrapping a piece of belly pork, he threw it to James. ‘Say hello to your mum for me,’ he said.
‘We will – thanks, Mr H’,’ Peter replied.
‘Here, take this an’ all,’ Mr Hollingsworth said as he passed over a package containing two pig’s trotters.
The boys grinned their thanks and disappeared into the night, their hob nail boots clattering on the cobblestones as they raced home.
Approaching the house, they heard their father’s voice booming out.
‘Charity – that’s all it is!’
Looking at each other in the light from the candle in the kitchen window they sighed in unison. Evidently Gerald had discovered the boys had been fed and there was nothing left for him.
Peter was all set to enter the house, but James held him back; their father was still raging inside.
‘It was given as a gift!’ Minnie tried to placate her angry husband.
‘It’s charity! They feel sorry for you, Minnie!’ Gerald’s tirade continued.
‘It ain’t surprising being married to you!’
The sound of a slap echoed around the dark yard and that’s when the lads rushed inside, eager to endeavour to prevent their mother receiving a hiding.
‘Mum! Look what we’ve got!’ Peter called out.
‘Where the hell have you two been ’til this time?’ Gerald rounded on his sons.
‘Down the market,’ James answered stiffly.
‘It’s blacker than a mine out there, you lying little bugger!’ Gerald yelled at his eldest.
James stared at his father in disbelief – the man was drunk! How on earth had he managed it without any money?
; It transpired Gerald had placed a bet at a cock fight, promising to pay his ante when he won. The man taking the bets was run off his feet and allowed Gerald to place his bet shooing him away with a wave of his hand. The cockerel he backed had won and having paid the man his debt out of his winnings he had spent the rest on beer.
‘You were supposed to be out looking for work!’ Minnie yelled after hearing his drunken tale.
‘I know but I won!’ Gerald said as he stumbled against the table, his anger at his sons now forgotten.
‘You’re a bloody liar, Gerald Fitch!’ Minnie roared.
‘I ain’t!’ her husband retorted. ‘I couldn’t find no work so I… there was this cock fight and…’
‘Gerald!’ Minnie cut across his words. ‘I don’t want to hear it again. Just get to bed out of my sight or else, God help me, I’ll do for you!’
Looking at his sons in turn, Gerald shook his head and made for the doorway leading to the bedrooms.
Minnie dragged in a breath through flared nostrils as she heard him stumbling about having finally negotiated the stairs.
Only now looking at what her boys had brought home in the way of food, she praised them both for a job well done.
It was later once her sons were in bed that Minnie sat by the empty grate, her mind yet again on Polly and Adam. She would give anything to have them home with her, but in her heart of hearts she knew they were better off where they were – for now at least. The thought however did not stem the tears pouring from her eyes.
At that precise moment, Minnie Fitch thought she must be the unhappiest woman alive.
14
It snowed heavily for the next couple of days and the children at the orphanage were kept indoors. The weather was so bad that Una relented and gave the older boys a further week to find alternative accommodation. She had told them herself rather than sending Ruth, then she had cursed the weather for disrupting her plans.
Early one morning, as Adam stood in line for breakfast, Miss Reed spoke to him quietly. ‘Adam, I’d like to see you in my office immediately you’ve finished eating.’
The Five Shilling Children Page 9
