Through Streets Broad and Narrow (Ivy Rose Series Book 1)

by Gemma Jackson

“How does tomorrow suit you to start the work?” Jem grinned at Ivy’s shock. “I’m taking a few days off to take care of things.” He shrugged, not willing to go into any more detail with the child listening to every word.

  “I normally visit the backstreet shops on Saturday.” Ivy sat back in her chair to think about the situation. She had regular customers. But she supposed the world wouldn’t come to an end if she missed one day.

  “We could make a day of it.” Jem suggested. “I’ll head up the work detail and, with Conn and Liam both helping, we could have the place finished in one day.”

  “What about me?” Emmy asked. “What will I do?”

  “I have a job for you,” Ivy said slowly.

  Her mind was in a whirl. For the first time ever she realised she’d structured her life around her da’s comings and goings. Her mornings and early afternoon were taken up with dealing in her second-hand goods. She always ran back to have the place warm for her da and a meal on the go. She didn’t have to stick to that routine any more. She was free to make her own hours. Ivy felt cast adrift at the loss of her purpose.

  “I think you, Miss Emmy, will be in charge of Liam’s dog.” Ivy hid her sorrow behind a smile. “How does that sound to you?”

  “Yes, I can do that!” Emmy clapped her hands in delight.

  Ivy shook off her sad mood. Time enough for brooding when she was on her own.

  The mood in Jem’s room over the stable stalls was light and full of laughter. Jem couldn’t remember the last time he’d enjoyed himself so much. He’d taken a day off to stay with Emmy. He couldn’t afford to do that often. He was glad he had. It had given him a new lease of life. He looked down at the head of dark curls collapsed against his chest. Emmy had taken a couple of sips from her cup and with a big yawn curled up to sleep. The sound of her little snores was becoming familiar to him now.

  “Should she be doing that, Ivy?” Jem was concerned. “The little one seems to fall asleep at the drop of a hat.”

  “I’m not certain, Jem, but it seems to be that Miss Emmy Ryan has been through a great deal of change and strangeness. Maybe this is her little body’s way of dealing with things.”

  “I don’t know much about childer,” Jem admitted.

  “Put Emmy down on the bed for a short nap, Jem. She won’t sleep long but the poor little thing has to be all out of sorts.” Ivy stood to fetch more tea. She watched Jem put the little girl on the big bed. He took such tender care of the child it almost broke Ivy’s heart.

  “Jem, I’ve been giving things a great deal of thought.” Ivy grinned at Jem’s protracted groan of despair. “Seriously, Jem, we have to think and plan for the things that have fallen into our grasp. Not least of which is the very precious Miss Emerald O’Connor.”

  “I agree but I’d hoped to put off thinking about it for a while.” Jem shrugged. He was still reeling from the changes that had taken place in his life.

  “You can’t take time to think about all of this, Jem.” Ivy shook her head. “You have to do something with all that money.”

  “I’m not spending the child’s inheritance!” Jem used a pulley to get the trunk up into the loft. He was fair sick to his stomach at the thought of all that wealth sitting in his hayloft. “I’ve been sitting here worrying and wondering.” Jem pushed his fingers through his freshly shorn hair.

  “I’m not suggesting you should spend the child’s money in a wild spree, Jem. However, it’s paper money and paper rots. It would be the height of stupidity to allow the small fortune in cash that woman was carrying to rot. I’ve a suspicion the money was actually left with the aunt for Emerald’s care.”

  “I don’t know what to do, Ivy.” Jem dropped his head into his hands. “How can I go about me daily business and leave all them sparkles sitting around? I’d never get a tap done with the worry and that’s the God’s honest truth.”

  “I’ve met someone.”

  Ivy’s soft whisper sliced through Jem to the bone. He should have known. A woman as fascinating, kind and downright beautiful as Ivy Murphy wouldn’t be without admirers. He schooled his features to acceptance as he removed his hands from in front of his face. He wished he still had his beard.

  “Her name is Ann Marie Gannon. I met her in the morgue of all places. She lives in the square.”

  Jem began to breathe again.

  “I’ve been spending time with her. Jem, the world she lives in is a different place to the one you and I live in. She has her own automobile!” Ivy waited to meet his astonished eyes. It was a rare person who owned an automobile. “Ann Marie drives it herself. Honest she does! Anyway, what I wanted to say, I’m meeting Ann Marie in Herbert Park on Sunday. I’m going to ask her to take me to the bank one day next week. I’m going to open an account in my name. I’m going to ask Ann Marie to explain to me what a bank does. She’s really smart, Jem. I don’t know anything, I’m stupid.”

  “Ivy Murphy, you most certainly are not stupid!” Jem barked. He knew where Ivy had heard those words spoken about herself. “I never want to hear you say anything like that again.”

  “Do you have a bank account, Jem?” Ivy ignored Jem’s words. She knew she wasn’t smart.

  “No. My uncle had an account but I closed it when he died. I’ve never had enough money to open a bank account in my own name.” Jem shrugged. That was just the way it was. That was something the toffs did, not the likes of him.

  “Miss Emerald O’Connor has more than enough cash to open an account,” Ivy said softly, her head nodding in agreement with her statement. “I heard tell that you can rent a box, Jem. The bank keeps all kinds of things in these boxes. They keep them safe under lock and key inside the bank.”

  Ivy didn’t mention it was her da she’d heard mention these boxes. Éamonn Murphy, when well away with the drink, had often spoken aloud about the kind of wealth sitting in these boxes in the bank. Boxes just waiting for anyone brave enough to walk in and take them.

  “You need to get one of those boxes, Jem.” Ivy touched his hand resting on the table with the tip of her fingers. “You can’t keep all of the sparkles lying around.”

  “I wouldn’t know how to go about these things, Ivy.” Jem was completely out of his depth – but he agreed – he needed to put the wealth he had stashed away somewhere safe.

  “We can ask Ann Marie to help both of us,” Ivy said simply. “The woman has been rich all of her life. She knows stuff that you and I never learned. She’ll help us figure something out. We won’t tell her anything about Emerald O’Connor of course. We don’t need to involve any more people in this little drama.” She looked towards the peacefully sleeping child. “Jem, I think you should write down everything you did, everything you heard last night. We can lock it away with the sparkles.”

  “Why?” Jem couldn’t believe Ivy thought she was stupid. She was one of the smartest people he’d ever met. The woman never stopped thinking.

  “A feeling I have,” Ivy shrugged. “I can’t believe that someone won’t come looking for that little girl.” Ivy jerked her chin in Emerald’s direction. “It might not be today or tomorrow but someday someone is going to come asking questions and we better have the answers.”

  “I had time today to look through the papers the aunt had with her, Ivy,” Jem admitted with a shrug. He’d had little enough to do with his day. He couldn’t leave the stables with all that liquid wealth lying around and in any case he had to stay with Emmy. While he waited for Ivy to fetch something for the child to wear he’d sat and thought about his options.

  “What did the papers say?” Ivy asked softly. Imagine being able to pick up a paper and read it!

  “The woman’s name was Mary Rose Donnelly.” Jem had felt soiled after reading the journal the woman carried. He could hear the woman’s voice in his head as he read through the poison written down in her personal journal. “She was from County Cavan if that’s any help to us.”

  “Did yeh get any clue as to where she was coming from or going to?” I
vy leaned forward eagerly.

  “The woman had Emerald’s, I mean Emmy’s papers, her birth certificate, her parents’ marriage license, her mother’s death certificate and so on. In her journal she talks about burning the papers.”

  “The devil’s warming a seat for that auld besom!” Ivy almost spat. “Those papers need to be locked away in the bank too, Jem.”

  “The woman thought making little Emerald O’Connor disappear would be a great joke. The idea delighted the auld besom. She planned to dump the child with the nuns at Goldenbridge. She wasn’t even going to take the child inside. She was going to dump her as a little nobody, a nameless little orphan child. She was going to just dump the little girl out of my carriage.” Jem took a deep breath through his nose at the thought of the little girl softly snoring nearby being put in that place.

  “And?” Ivy prompted.

  “Miss Mary Rose Donnelly had tickets for a luxury cabin aboard one of the boats leaving Dublin today.”

  “Do you think she was going to meet someone on board ship?” Ivy was trying to think of the problems in front of them. “Will someone be looking for her? Jaysus, Jem, what if someone has raised the alarm already?”

  “I don’t think so,” Jem sighed. “The auld besom hadn’t a good word to say about anyone when she was in my cab. Her little book is much of a muchness. She talks a lot about disappearing. She writes about starting a new life far away from anyone who knows her. I don’t think there is a soul on this earth that will miss that woman.” Jem thought that was the saddest thing he’d ever said. What an epitaph!

  “Thank God.” Ivy closed her eyes in relief. “I’ve been thinking about those new Garda detectives and soldiers searching the city for her.”

  “Ivy, every time you get to thinking it makes my head ache.” Jem rubbed his face. “But you’re right and I know better than to ignore your advice. I’m not a scholar but I can manage to put my thoughts down on paper. I’ll use the blank pages in the aunt’s journal. It will all be in one place.” Jem sighed. “Do you really think someone will come searching for the child?”

  “How could they not, Jem?” Ivy stared at the sleeping child. “Someone has loved and cared for that child very well, if I was to judge from her clothes only. I think the aunt hasn’t had her hands on the child for all that long – though long enough for her to grow out of those clothes.”

  “I want to believe yeh, Ivy.” Jem hated to think of any child subjected to the kind of treatment the aunt was dealing out to Emerald yesterday.

  “Anyway, even if someone doesn’t come looking,” Ivy groaned at the thought, “one day Emerald O’Connor will go looking for answers herself. We need to help prepare her for whatever she finds.”

  “You’ve given me a lot to think about.” Jem stood and stared down at Ivy.

  “I’ll talk to Ann Marie.” Ivy stood too. “I’ll make arrangements for you to meet her. You need to get that money and those sparkles out of your place.” Ivy put her hand on Jem’s arm. “You need to take a look at the sparkles. We just shoved them any-old-how into that trunk but I had a chance to look at them while I was waiting for you to come back from Hollis Street. It seemed to me that they were made for a much slimmer neck than the aunt’s.”

  “Ivy, do me a favour and shut up.” Jem dared to brush his lips over Ivy’s. “You’re giving me a headache.”

  A rapid bang of knuckles on the livery door broke the tender moment.

  Emmy woke from her brief nap with a start.

  Ivy stared at Jem. She thought she knew what was going on. She’d been trying to ignore the noise from the street below but it had carried easily up to this room. It was time for her to face the music.

  “Ivy Murphy!”

  Ivy groaned. She recognised that voice – Nelly Kelly.

  “Ivy Murphy, get yer skinny arse out here now! I want to talk to yeh.” The stable door rattled. Nelly must have started kicking.

  “I’ll come with yeh – give me a minute,” Jem said.

  “I’ll wait for yeh below,” Ivy wasn’t going to refuse the offer of a big strong man at her back. She ran from the room and down the ladder. She had to open that door before the crowd kicked the feckin’ thing down.

  “Ivy Murphy!” Nelly Kelly screamed when Ivy opened the small door cut into the stable door. “You get out here and tell this lying cow that Éamonn Murphy isn’t dead!” Nelly was holding a terrified Maisie Reynolds by the elbow and shaking the woman with every word.

  “In the name of God, Nelly, let the poor woman go!” Ivy stepped forward and pulled Maisie from Nelly’s grip.

  “Tell her,” Nelly stabbed Ivy’s chest with her finger. “The gossiping cow is telling everyone that Éamonn Murphy is dead. That he’s been dead for weeks.” Nelly’s face was streaked with tears as she fought to deny the truth.

  Ivy stepped back, rubbing her chest. Nelly’s finger had hurt. She looked around the large crowd of women and young men.

  Taking a deep breath, she opened her mouth and said: “Me da is dead, Nelly.” Ivy ignored the mutters from the crowd. “He drowned the first day of the year. Officer Collins came to tell me.”

  “Yeh unnatural bitch!” Nelly pulled back her arm to knock Ivy into next week. A strong hand wrapped around Ivy’s elbow from behind and jerked her back.

  “In the name of God, is this any way to behave?” said Jem. “The woman lost her father – the only relative she has here in Dublin – and all you lot can think about is yourselves. Yeh should be ashamed.”

  “Father Leary never told me!” Sheila Purcell pushed herself to the front of the crowd. “I do for the priest as you all know!” Sheila practically glowed as she announced her own importance. “I’d have been the first to hear the news of something like this. Father Leary would want me to know.”

  “I told Father Leary of me da’s death as soon as I heard.” Ivy held her head high and stared down her old neighbours. She noticed Conn Connelly standing to the side of the crowd. The young man with him must be his brother Liam. The dog at his feet was a dead giveaway.

  “Father Leary wouldn’t pass the time of day with yeh!” Sheila Purcell practically spat the words out of her mouth. “Many a time that sainted man has said to me, ‘Sheila,’ he says, ‘Sheila, that Ivy Rose Murphy is damned to the eternal fires of hell!’”

  The crowd muttered and moved at these words.

  Jem felt the hair rise on the back of his neck. Ivy had said something about the parish priest to him before but he’d let the matter pass. Having the parish priest spread rumours about you was bloody serious. The man could be dangerous, a threat, to a woman living alone. The parish priest carried a great deal of real power. Ivy needed to be very careful.

  “What a very Christian way for a man of God to speak about someone, don’t you think?” Ivy had no respect for Father Leary but she wasn’t fool enough to state her feelings aloud before this crowd. They’d lynch her.

  “Sheila Purcell, will yeh sell your stamps somewhere else!” Nelly Kelly shouted. “I want to know about my –”

  “Yer what, yeh slut, yer fancy man do yeh mean to say?” Sheila Purcell didn’t want to lose the spotlight. It wasn’t often the neighbours listened to what she had to say.

  “Ladies!” Jem shouted. “This is neither the time nor the place!” Jem tightened his grip on Ivy’s arm. He’d left Emmy alone, he needed to get back to her.

  “Mr Éamonn Murphy drowned on New Year’s Day. Officer Collins of the Dublin Garda came to tell Ivy Murphy of that sad fact. She knows no more than that.” Jem held Ivy in place. He jerked his head towards the two Connelly boys, indicating he wanted to talk to them.

  A scream like that of a banshee came from the crowd. Nelly Kelly had fallen to the cobbles and was tearing her hair out. The women gathered around her, not wanting to miss a minute of this little drama.

  “Uncle Jem!” a little voice carried over the screams. “Uncle Jem, I don’t want to stay up here all alone.”

  “Oh Lord!” Ivy closed her
eyes – what more could happen this day? “You need to see to the child Jem.”

  “Wait for me.” Jem was torn. He needed to see to Emmy but he could not allow Ivy to face that crowd alone. He pulled Ivy back into the stable and shut the door. “I’ll get Emmy and we’ll walk you over to your place.”

  “I bought a hat and coat for Emmy while I was out.” Ivy wasn’t going to refuse his offer. “Be sure and wrap the child up warmly.” She waited, leaning against the stable door, listening to the continuing drama outside while Jem ran up the ladder to attend to Emmy.

  “Right, let’s be on our way,” Jem was back with a big-eyed Emmy bundled up against the cold on his hip.

  “Wait a minute.” Jem passed Emmy to Ivy. “I’ll get the Connelly lads to help us. We don’t want anyone in that crowd to stop us.”

  “They’re all too busy enjoying Nelly’s commotion,” Ivy said tiredly.

  “Well, that was pleasant!” Ivy sighed and passed Emmy back to Jem when the door to her own place closed at her back. She stared at the three tall men who’d practically frog-marched her across the courtyard.

  “Liam Connelly as I live and breath!” Ivy stared.

  Liam was growing into a handsome man, no doubt about it. The plentiful nourishment he’d received at the seminary had filled his young body out. His skin glowed with health. His black hair was thick and shining with life. Conn, his brother, standing by his side had the same potential for looks. Ivy liked that young man. He always had a smile and a helping hand to offer. To her eyes he was the more attractive even if the lack of life’s bounty showed on his face and body clearly.