The Songbird (10 page)

The King's Head inn was an ancient hostelry, one of the oldest in Hull. It was constructed of brick and timber, with shuttered windows and an overhanging top storey, where poets reputedly had stayed and composed odes to the strong Hull ale. As the two young men entered they were assailed by noise and laughter, for the inn was crowded with jostling men and women.

‘I can't stay late,' Tommy said, ‘and I'll only have one glass or I'll never get up in 'morning.' He elbowed his way to the counter. ‘Mattie!' he called when he saw her and waved to her as she turned. He held up two fingers and she nodded.

‘Didn't realize you worked here,' he said, as Mattie pushed her way through to them, holding two brimming tankards in one hand and a jug of ale in the other.

‘I work wherever ‘work is, Tommy.' She smiled. ‘Me and my ma! Evening, Charlie. Don't usually see you two in here. Special night out, is it?'

‘Came especially to see you, Mattie,' Charlie drawled.

‘I'm flattered,' she said smoothly. ‘Really honoured.' She gave him a coy glance, lowering her eyelashes. ‘We'll have to put a plaque on 'wall. Charlie Chandler drank here.'

‘You might one day, Mattie.' Charlie looked her up and down. ‘When I'm famous.'

She gazed directly at him. ‘And what'll you be famous for?'

‘He's going to work in London,' Tommy said glumly. ‘There'll be no talking to him once he's set up!'

‘Dear dear,' Mattie said wryly. ‘What a loss you'll be. How ever will we manage without you, Charlie?' She started to move back to the counter where men were clamouring to be served, and her mother Nan was frantically indicating for her to come and help. ‘But you won't desert us, will you, Tommy? We can rely on you?'

‘She's got a soft spot for you!' Charlie said caustically, when Mattie was out of earshot. He took a long draught of ale. ‘You're on a winner there. If you dare risk it,' he added darkly.

‘What do you mean? She's all right is Mattie. She's a good sort.'

‘Course she is.' Charlie wondered why Mattie always managed to ruffle his ego. Was it because although she seemed so warm and seductive, she had always refused his offer of an evening out? ‘I've to work for a living,' she would apologize in her slightly mocking manner. ‘I've no rich papa to help me along.' He knew this was just an evasion and was slightly peeved when he heard her being more than friendly towards Tommy.

‘Of course she's a good sort,' he repeated, giving a knowing grin. ‘She's everybody's friend.'

Joshua Mazzini walked swiftly towards Scale Lane. He'd locked up the shop. Lena and Albert had gone home, Poppy had gone to bed and Tommy was out, but he had his own key to get in. Now Joshua was hurrying towards the shoemaker's shop before it too was locked up for the night, though he knew John Chandler to be a night owl, working until the early hours. A light was on in the workshop window and as he peered in he saw Charlie's father working on his bench by the light of an oil lamp.

He tapped on the window and the shoemaker looked up, then put down the shoe he was repairing and came to the door.

‘Sorry to disturb you, John,' Joshua apologized. ‘It seems as if there are not enough hours in 'day to do all I need to do.'

‘Come on in.' John Chandler locked the door behind Joshua and sat down again at his bench. ‘I'm trying to get this order ready for 'morning. Like you say, there's not enough hours in 'day. Sit down.' He indicated a chair covered in shoes and boots.

‘Charlie not in?' Joshua gingerly lowered himself, trying not to sit on the footwear.

‘Nah! He's out with your lad. Tommy called round about half hour ago.'

‘Ah! That's where he is,' Joshua remarked. ‘He'll be wanting to know how Charlie persuaded you to let him leave and go to London.'

The shoemaker looked at him from over his round wire-rimmed spectacles. ‘He didn't persuade me. I decided to let him go.' He put down the shoe and folded his arms. ‘He'd have gone anyway. I decided that if he was intent on leaving, then he'd be as well to finish his trade here and have some experience and goodwill behind him. I'll not give him an allowance, mind. If he wants to go, then he's to stand on his own two feet.' He picked up the shoe again. ‘I'll start another apprentice on. One who needs to work.'

Joshua nodded. ‘Then Charlie'll come back when he's had enough of gallivanting in London?'

‘No. He'll not come back. He'll imagine that I think he will; he's even suggested that he might. I suppose he reckons that'll pacify me.' John Chandler gave a cynical grunt. ‘They think we know nowt, these young fellers. They don't know that we remember how it was with our own fathers. How we rebelled against doing what they wanted.'

‘True.' Joshua sighed. ‘I felt 'same with my father. But we did it. We knew how hard it would be if we went our own way.'

‘Aye,' John agreed. ‘But we've made some brass and our kith and kin think that life is easy. Well, Charlie for one will find out it isn't.' He paused. ‘But he's not like me. He'll fight his way to 'top, and he'll not mind who he shoves out of 'road.'

Joshua frowned. ‘Tommy's not like that.'

‘No, I don't think he is. He's not made like Charlie.' John wagged a finger at his visitor. ‘And if I were in your place, I'd let him go to sea the way he wants to do.' He pursed his lips and nodded. ‘I reckon once he's done it and seen what it's like, he'll come home, marry a steady young woman and take over 'business from you. That's what I think, for what it's worth.' He sighed. ‘But what would I know about owt!'

‘Well, that's why I came,' Joshua said gloomily. ‘I wanted your opinion. I don't want Tommy to feel resentful after Charlie's gone, so maybe I'll let him go.'

‘Is business good? Can you afford to get some help if he leaves?'

‘I've got staff already. They came a while after Mary died. Lena Rogers and her son. She used to be at Conner's bakery. That's why I took her on. She can do baking when – if – Tommy leaves.' He looked thoughtful. ‘We seem to be busy, but I'm not making a deal of money. Paying out wages takes its toll on profit.'

‘That's why we need our families working with us,' John Chandler said sagely. ‘Well, at least you've got your daughter. She'll stop with you until she marries, I expect.' He grinned. ‘Try to marry her off to a baker and keep it in 'family.'

Joshua got up to go. ‘Poppy's set on going on 'stage. But I'll not have that. Not for my girl.'

Charlie came in as he was about to leave and Joshua wished him luck in his new venture. Charlie thanked him and told him that he'd just left Tommy, who was on his way home.

‘Good night, then,' Joshua said. ‘I'll catch him up. And thanks for that, John. I might do as you suggest.'

He hurried down Scale Lane, across the junction of Lowgate and down Silver Street and Whitefriargate, the fashionable shopping streets of Hull, and caught up with Tommy who was leaning on Monument Bridge, gazing into the waters of Prince's Dock. Above him on its towering monument the statue of Wilberforce, the most famous of Hull's sons, surveyed the town.

‘By, you don't half walk at a pace,' Joshua puffed. ‘I can't have been more'n a minute or two behind you.'

‘Where've you been?' Tommy turned to look at his father. ‘I thought you'd gone to bed.'

‘I've been to chat with John Chandler. We don't often get 'opportunity to talk, so I went round. I knew he'd be up.'

‘Charlie says he works all 'hours God sends.' Tommy turned back to look down into the water which ran between Prince's Dock and Queen's Dock and into the Humber Dock. ‘He never takes any time off. What sort of life is that, eh?'

‘I agree,' his father murmured. ‘But sometimes we get so bowed down with trying to earn a living that we forget how to do anything else. I had your ma to remind me when she was here, but now that she's not—' He stopped for a second and cleared his throat. ‘She enjoyed life,' he continued. ‘She liked 'theatre and music halls, singing and dancing. Poppy's like her in that respect.'

Tommy silently nodded. He missed his mother more than he had ever admitted to anyone.

‘She was restricted by her parents, you know,' his father went on. ‘They were joyless people. Never laughed. Always looked on 'black side. Walked on 'straight and narrow all their lives.'

He took a deep breath and sighed it out. ‘We, your ma and me, when we first married, we always said we'd do 'best we could for our children if we had any. We'd set 'em on 'right path, make them feel secure, and we hoped that they'd follow in our footsteps. But if they didn't, well—' He too looked out across the dock as he searched for the right words.

‘What I'm trying to say, Tommy, is – well, if you really want to go to sea, then you can. And if it doesn't work out, then you can come back any time you want and there'll be no recriminations – no I told you so.'

Tommy looked at him. He didn't speak for a moment, and then he said huskily, ‘You mean it, Pa? But – what about 'bakery? What about 'coffee house?'

‘Lena can do 'baking. She says she's good, and what she can't do I'll have brought in; there's plenty of small bakers who'd be glad of 'extra custom. And Poppy will be leaving school soon. She can look after 'coffee house. She's good with people, knows how to chat to them. She'll maybe even help with 'baking.'

‘And what about Albert? Will you keep him on?'

Joshua nodded thoughtfully. ‘I'll have to if Lena is tied up in 'kitchen. We'll need an extra pair of hands.'

‘Are you sure you'll be able to manage?' Tommy was having doubts now, even though there was an exultant excitement growing inside him.

Joshua glanced at him. ‘I'll worry about that,' he said. ‘Do you want to go or don't you?'

Tommy put his arm round his father's shoulder and hugged him. ‘Oh, I do,' he said. ‘I really do!'

Poppy wept when Tommy told her his news the next day, after she returned from school. ‘I know it's what you want to do,' she cried. ‘But I shall be left with those two horrible,
horrible
people!'

‘Pa will be here,' Tommy said. ‘He won't let them bully you.' He knew very well that Poppy wouldn't be bullied. She was quite capable of standing up for herself, and he wasn't going to be put off. When his father had caught up with him on Monument Bridge he had already decided that he was going to sea and had even considered leaving home without discussing it with his pa. He had made enquiries at the docks and had heard of a cargo ship that was departing shortly and needed deckhands.

‘And anyway,' she sniffled, ‘who'll take you? You've no experience of sailing on ships. You only know baking.'

‘I don't need to know about sailing.' Tommy pulled woollen jumpers and thick cord trousers out of a cupboard. ‘The owners don't have to take on proper seamen any more. Engines are so reliable they hardly ever use sails.'

‘You'll come back smelling of fish,' she groused.

‘No, I won't. I'm not going fishing.' He sat next to her on his bed. ‘Poppy! I'm going! I'm applying to one of Wilson's cargo ships that's in 'dock now. It was built here, Earle's I think, so it'll be a reliable one. It's got massive boilers and engines and carries about six hundred tons of cargo. It carries sail but doesn't need it, only if 'boiler or 'engine breaks down.'

‘Who told you about it?' She was sulky.

‘I'm always down there, talking to 'seamen. One of them told me about this one. She's doing 'Rotterdam run as soon as she's finished repairs.'

‘So you'll soon be home again?' she said hopefully. ‘If it's only going to Rotterdam?'

He fished a canvas bag from under the bed. ‘No. It'll be going on somewhere else, I expect. I don't know, do I? I haven't been taken on yet.'

‘You might not like it,' she said finally. ‘I bet you'll be sick!'

‘Probably.' He grinned. ‘And as for not liking it, how will I know if I don't try it?' He put his hand on her shoulder. ‘Your time will come one day, Pops. Be sure that it will.'

She shook her head. She was so miserable that she didn't even admonish him for calling her Pops. ‘Only if I run away,' she said. ‘Pa won't ever tell
me
that I can go on the stage.'

She hadn't told anyone about the letter from Dan Damone, nor had she answered it. She had tucked it away amongst her petticoats where no-one would find it. She couldn't tell her father or Tommy. She had toyed with the idea of telling Miss Davina or Miss Eloise, but they would be duty bound to advise her to discuss it with her father. She'd considered telling Nan, but Nan was loyal to her father and besides, she was like a mother hen. She would worry about her, for sure.

She gave a deep sigh and put her chin in her hands. Mattie! The thought suddenly struck her. Mattie. She's sensible and she's not that much older than me. She would understand. I could ask her what she thinks I should do.

She got up from Tommy's bed and gave him what she considered to be a brave smile. ‘I wish you luck, Tommy. I hope you enjoy your life. Just think of me sometimes, washing the dishes and fighting off Albert's advances.'

‘What! What do you mean?' Tommy stared. ‘He doesn't try anything, does he? You must tell Pa if he does!' He recalled what Charlie had said about Poppy's being attractive. He hadn't seen it himself. She had red hair for a start, redder than his, which was sandy-coloured and he hated it. He preferred girls with dark hair, although Mattie was fair and he'd always found her attractive, in a comely kind of way.

Poppy shrugged. ‘I'm sharpening my nails,' she said nonchalantly. ‘Just in case.'