by Hannah Parry
“What’s that doing there?”
Midge glanced casually sideways.
“Barbers. Cuts hair. Also does surgery – that’s why he’d tied the rag around his post.” The boy gave a devilish grin. “Snip, snip, chop, chop!”
Their journey ended in a sooty alley right down by the river, where new brick buildings rose like sheer cliffs right from the water’s edge. The tide was out, and the bright sunlight revealed the stinking mudflats in all their glory. On their right lay vast warehouses. Midge stopped in front of one with the name ‘Coopers and Lybrand’ painted in black letters fifty foot tall in ornate fading script. The brick at the base of the building had faded from red to pale pink where the Thames had lapped against it at high tide. Midge tiptoed over the wet cobbles to a small door and took out a key.
“Quick now, whilst it’s quiet.”
After climbing four flights of stairs Isabella found herself standing in a large room piled high with sacks of coffee, the smell of which was causing her stomach to cramp with hunger. She bent over with the pain, feeling light-headed.
Midge caught her.
“Easy now. We’re here.” He gave three short whistles and there was a heavy dragging and scuffling as one of the sacks was pulled aside. Two dogs shot through followed by a girl of about fifteen.
“Midge! Midge! Is that you?” And she crushed Midge to her, tears welling in her eyes.
“I thought you were a goner, for sure.” She held him at arm’s length, examining him.
Midge disentangled himself and lifted his hand to his head.
“Mind me hair, Ruby. I’m alright.” The girl cuffed him gently around the ear. She was tall and thin and wearing a dirty apron over a brown smock. Her hair was the colour of dishwater and her left eye had a cast in it, but the other eye was a beautiful clear brown. “I was alright Ruby, just got a bang on the head is all.”
The girl frowned. “Tell me you’ve not been fighting the Barrow Boys again.” Midge stuck out his chin and the girl took him by the shoulders and shook him. “You could have been killed. What if they’d have left you in the snow? You’d have died of the cold.”
“They did leave me out in the snow,’ replied Midge. “She pulled me into a stable ’til I came round. I thought we could give her some brekky as a thank you,” then in a stage whisper he added. “I don’t think she’s eaten for days.” Ruby looked at Isabella and Isabella tried to smile, but Ruby’s kind face was moving in and out of focus.
Ruby enclosed her in a warm hug.
“Of course she can have some breakfast. It’s the least we can do.”
Midge smiled, but then his smile faded.
“Where’s Zach?”
“He’s gone out.”
Midge looked relieved.
“Brilliant! You can see where we live. It’s the business!” He said pulling her toward the gap.
Inside the scented walls of coffee the children had made themselves a home. Sacks had been moved into place at right angles and then stacked to create two walls. Along these walls were several cosy bedrolls and scraps of blanket lying like nests in the roots of a tree. The other two sides of the den were the bare, red brick corner of the warehouse, but these walls were well built with no gaps. A fire crackled in a grate next to a large window and the brick walls caught and held the heat. Stacked neatly against the fire’s mantle were piles of chopped wood and in front of the fire sat another girl about Ruby’s age moving sausages around in a frying pan. The two dogs, both blonde mongrels sat nearby, drooling.
Isabella had never smelt anything so good. She sat on a tattered sofa in a daze until Midge put a plate of sausages and bread into her hand and a large mug of steaming tea on the floor next to her. Ignoring the scalding to the roof of her mouth, she fell on the food like an animal, paying no heed to those around her.
“She’s really hungry, ain’t she, Ruby?” A little girl of no more than five or six was sitting in Ruby’s lap having finished her food. She was blonde and pale and small but with a sweetness in her face which made Isabella want to smile. She had her fingers entwined in Ruby’s hair.
“She was hungry, that’s right Lil’, but I think she might be feeling better now.” Isabella looked down at her empty plate and mug and felt embarrassed. She had no memory of eating the food. Midge held his last sausage out to her.
“Do you want it?” Isabella felt she could eat a hundred more sausages, but remembering how her father would say a soldier should always be a little hungry, to keep himself on edge, she shook her head and smiled for the first time that day.
“No, thank you, Midge. I’ve taken enough of your food already.”
It was as if she’d passed some kind of test. Altogether, the children rose up and shuffled nearer, inundating her with questions.
“What happened last night with Midge?”
“Did you save his life?”
“Did you fight off them Barrow Boys?”
“Why’s your hair so long?”
“Why do you speak funny?”
“Where are you from?”
“Do you want to see where I sleep, I made me bed meself…?”
Isabella laughed. There were only five or six of them, but together they sounded like one hundred.
“I didn’t save Midge, I didn’t fight the Barrow Boys, maybe I speak funny because I’m from India and, yes, I’d love to see your bed.” The tiny boy to whom this last comment was directed, took Isabella by the hand pulled her over to a muddled heap of blue and red fabric.
“Mine,” he said with a flourish of a filthy hand.
Isabella nodded.
“That looks very comfortable indeed.” The child beamed and bent to retrieve something else.
Later, having admired everyone’s bed and meagre stores of possessions, Isabella sat again with Ruby and Midge and the little girl and another cup of tea, made sweet from a tin of sugar syrup kept liquid by the fire. The clear winter light was leaving the sky, though it was only mid-afternoon so the sooty windows looked less dirty. Isabella went to the window. Lanterns were winking on in the buildings across the river. The light was deepening and the brick buildings facing west suddenly turned crimson as they were drenched with the blood-red dying rays of sun. She shivered. It was time to leave. She couldn’t presume on their hospitality anymore.
Shouldering her bag, she bent to hug Midge.
“Thank you for the breakfast.”
“You’re not going are ya?” He said looking crestfallen.
“Yes, I must. I’ve got to find some shelter before tonight and then tomorrow… well, tomorrow I’ve got some business to attend to.”
“But you could stay here!” Midge’s face was pleading as he turned to Ruby. “Couldn’t she?”
Ruby looked sad.
“I wish she could Midge and you know if it were up to me, she would be able to stay, but you know the rules.”
“But she saved my life and she’s got nowhere to go! I thought Zachariah always said we should stick together.”
“I do have somewhere to go,” she interjected trying to save face, but now Ruby was speaking.
“You know what Zachariah will say…”
“What will I say, exactly?”
Ruby jumped and then went pink.
“Oh Zachariah, you scared the living daylights out of me.”
“Hardly surprising considerin’ all the racket you lot were making… and who’s this and what’s it doing here?” Isabella felt a finger poke her sharply on the shoulder from behind and she span, fists up.
“Oh ho! Fancy yourself a fighter eh?”
The boy in front of her caught her wrists in his hands and twisted them downwards so her skin burned.
“Let go of me!”
Midge jumped up.
“‘Ere Zachariah, don’t do that. This is Isabella, she saved my life last night… Pulled me out of the snow when I’d had a bang on the head. We just gave her some breakfast… As a thank you.” She felt the pressure on her wrists lesse
n. The little blonde girl disentangled herself from Ruby and threw herself on the new arrival.
“Zachariah, Zachariah, Zachariah, what did you bring me? I missed you. Look at my tooth,” and she solemnly opened her mouth as wide as was humanly possible.
Releasing Isabella’s hands he lifted Lily high into the sky.
“Not much today, Little Lil’. Everyone’s too cold and too hungry. Pickings are sparse. But here,” he tossed a package to Ruby. “I got a few bits from the butcher’s stall and some bread. Eddie’s gone to see one of the boys off Painted Lady, see if he’s brought anything upriver for us. Big ship got in a couple of days ago… from India. Should be enough leftovers for all of us.”
Midge pulled on Isabella’s hand.
“Is that the one you came on?”
Isabella was watching the new boy warily. If he hadn’t have been holding Lily she’d have knocked his block off by now. She didn’t answer and the boy looked at her.
“Just off the boat eh? Might have known,” he sneered. Isabella judged he was older than her, only by a year or two and he was starting to grow. His legs and arms were too long for his clothes, but he wasn’t thin, his bones had muscle on them and his jaw and neck were thickening. His hair hung straight and black into his eyes and his nose was long, but slanted, clearly broken, to one side of his face, which made him look a bit like a wolf. His grey eyes, however, were cold. It was a face, which had the appearance of seeing too many winters and not enough summers.
She picked her bag up again. This time she was definitely leaving.
“Oh please don’t go,” Midge was hanging off her arm again.
“What, hang around until his Lordship can think of something else unpleasant to say? I don’t think so,” she replied nastily, shaking off Midge’s hand. Lily was now whispering into Zachariah’s ear and the hard look left his face.
“Is that so, Lily-Loo?” He looked at Isabella. “Lily says you know some tricks.”
“Yeah, so?” Isabella replied, one foot half out the door.
“We like tricks around here.” His face was impassive.
Isabella adjusted her satchel across her body.
“It’s a pity you’re not going to see any then, isn’t it?” She patted Midge’s shoulder. “Bye Midge.” The other children were crowding around now and she ruffled one or two heads. “Good bye and thank you Ruby for the breakfast.”
Ruby looked at her and pulled her close.
“Good luck luvvie and thank you.” But the doorway through the sacks was barred by the bulk of Zachariah.
Isabella drew herself up to her full height, very nearly the same as his.
“Excuse me, please.”
Zachariah dropped his arm from across the gap and he smiled, at least that’s what she thought he was doing. His teeth were showing anyway.
“Like I said, we like tricks. If you show us one that’s any good, I’ll let you stay one night.” Isabella’s first impulse was to tell him to stuff himself, she didn’t need his charity, but the sky was now an inky blue, and the stars pinpricks of ice. The temperature had dropped and tiny ferns of frost had begun to coat the window outside. One of the boys Zachariah had returned with was stoking the fire and the smaller children were moving their bedrolls closer to it. Another girl seemed to be warming milk in an old pot.
She felt the fight go out of her.
“Only if you’re nice to me. I won’t be able to sleep otherwise.”
The corner of his mouth twitched as Midge started to jump up and down with excitement.
“Let’s see how good your tricks are first, shall we?”
She wasn’t so tired she couldn’t mutter at him under her breath in Hindi.
“Mangy curs like you should be more grateful.”
Zachariah didn’t seem to care either way.
Later that night with a stomach full of warm milk, lying between Midge and Ruby, Isabella could see the fire’s flicker on the iron roof above her. Rolling onto her side she watched as Zachariah left his bedroll next to Lily’s, and put four more logs on the fire before returning to his bed where he lay on his back, hands beneath his head. Then she closed her eyes, but not before she saw Zachariah’s gaze sweep over her. She pulled her father’s satchel closer to her chest and could fight sleep no more.
Such was the cold the following morning that Isabella wondered if she could make her fingers move quickly enough for the trick to be a success. She’d been ready to leave as soon as she was awake.
“Here,” said Midge, thrusting a cup of tea into her hand. “Put these on too.” They were fingerless wool gloves and a thick grey wool sweater and hat.
“Zachariah wants us to go to work.”
“What if I don’t want to go to work,” she sniffed. Who did this boy think he was?
“He says if you want to stay another night, you’ve got to take your trick down the market, see if you can make any money. So come on, we best get there quick, else all the best pitches will be gone.”
“Why should I give him anything of mine?”
Midge looked at her as if she was speaking another language.
“To pay for your keep of course.”
“What ‘keep?’ I’m not staying.”
Midge’s little freckled face clouded over. Isabella shrugged crossly. She knew she shouldn’t have stayed. She had no wish to upset Midge, of whom she was becoming fonder by the minute.
“Why, where are you gonna go?”
Where was she going to go? The thought had barely left her mind for a second since leaving the Molesey’s and yet she was still no closer to an answer. Starvation had addled her brain.
“I don’t know. “ Her voice became quiet and sad. “I want to go home to India, but I need money for that.” She wasn’t yet ready to tell of the booty in her bag. That was for emergencies.
Midge took her hand.
“‘Ere, don’t look so sad. We can make a plan, but… do you know what it’s like out there, if you ain’t got a gang behind you?”
Isabella thought of the starving children she’d seen from the Molesey’s carriage; felt the aching cold once more, the desolation of the call of the night-watch to anyone with no home to go to, the empty vault of the starless sky.
“A little.” She paused giving a hollow laugh. “In India the priests would distribute food to the street children, all the better to pave their way to heaven, I suppose. I haven’t seen much evidence of that happening here.”
Now it was Midge’s turn to laugh.
“The church? Help us? They’d lock us up soon as look at us, and that’s a fate worse than being alone on the streets.” His face darkened. “I was in the church poorhouse with me mum. She weren’t like the others in there. She didn’t drink. She said her prayers. We was only meant to be in there for a while, waiting for me dad to get back from the war, but mum took sick. They’re death-traps those places, people living on top of each other. After she died, me and Ruby ran away.”
Isabella nodded.
“I’m so sorry, Midge.”
He dashed his sleeve to his eyes.
“S’alright. We were lucky. We met Zachariah after a couple of months on the streets, but I wouldn’t like to go through that time again. Ruby still don’t talk about it.” Isabella looked over to where Ruby was bouncing one of the smallest children on her knee whilst spooning porridge into the mouth of another.
“She loves the little ones. Zachariah made it so she can stay at home with them and look after them. The rest of us have got to find a way to bring home something to share, no matter how small. A blanket or shoelaces or bread, it don’t matter. If we get something big we share it, the same if it’s small. But if you’re in the gang you’ve got to bring home something. Which is why you and me’s going to market.”
Isabella was intrigued by this apparently organised chaos.
“And Zachariah?”
But Midge was done with talking.
“He’s in charge. He looks after us so we do as he says. H
e’s fair though, so that’s ok.”
“Where do all these children come from?”
“Anywhere and everywhere, the gutter mostly. For all his talk, Zachariah’s soft as butter.”
Isabella nodded remembering him with Lily.
“Is Lily his sister?”
“Yeah, the apple of his eye. Gets away with blue murder and all.” Isabella looked over to where Lily was carefully rubbing soot into the hair of a child who still slept. She laughed, surprising herself with the sound. She felt stronger after the food and sleep. She stood up and held her hand out to Midge.
“Come on then. Let’s go and see if this trick is as good as I think it is.”
Midge’s face split into a grin.
They had set up their crate between a poorly provisioned fruit stall and a tailor. Midge waited until it was past nine o’clock and the market was bustling, then had begun.
“Roll up puhleese, Ladees and Gents to the greatest show in town. From the Orient, magick the likes of which you’ve never seen…!” Then he hissed out of the corner of his mouth. “For gawd’s sake take your hair down or something… try and look the part.”
Isabella gawped at him momentarily and then pulled her hair from its plait so it flowed in a nut-brown stream around her shoulders. She hunched over her crate and sari, muttering and humming words in Hindi. What she was actually saying was ‘lantern,’ ‘elephant’ and ‘banana,’ but the people passing through looked as if they were unlikely to know any better.
She waved her hands and moved the nutmeg shells around, and hummed to herself, but people just passed by intent on their shopping and getting back inside, into the warmth.
“Bah, this is no good, it’s like being in town on Temple Day. We need to attract some attention. Your shouting’s just not enough,” she said, looking around.
Midge was chewing on a fingernail.
