The end of the week saw a number of things happen.
Elizabeth Murray at last found what she had looked for for so long in the newspaper. She read out loud, ‘The body of a man named Arthur Micklewhite was found by the railway track near New Street Station early this morning. It is believed he was hit by the steam engine whilst in a state of severe inebriation. Mr Micklewhite died of the injuries sustained. The train driver was not held responsible for the unfortunate accident.’
Folding the newspaper, Elizabeth threw back her head and laughed until her sides ached. Composing herself once more, she realised her mother would not be upset by this news as Sylvia had only known the man as Gabriel Short, so Elizabeth opted not to enlighten her mother of the facts she had discovered, knowing now she could relax and get on with her life.
Number twenty seven, Rea Terrace passed into the hands of Ezra Morton unchallenged. It could never be proved whether he had had a hand in the death of the previous owner or not. Of course, speculation was rife that it was he who had disposed of Arthur Micklewhite, but without irrefutable evidence that he was to blame, Ezra was untouchable.
Fred and Nancy settled down quietly to married life, Fred having moved into Nancy’s room as it was the largest of the two.
The post-wedding festivities had lasted long into the night and revellers had to be thrown out bodily to allow the wedding party to finally get some sleep. The celebrations would be remembered for years by the locals who had been invited to join in the revelry. Sore heads the following day did not deter hardened drinkers from frequenting The Crown for their much needed tot of throat-searing gin.
After being advertised in all the local papers, Daydream Palace had opened its doors for the first time and had been packed to the gunnels. The Temperance Movement members had stood outside desperately trying to convince people not to enter. Their efforts were wasted; folk crowded in, eager to spend their hard-earned cash on the liquid that could eventually see them driven to suicide, insanity or turn them blind.
‘I really can’t believe how well the Palace has taken off,’ Dolly said on a quick visit to her friends in The Crown a few days later.
‘Nor me,’ Nellie said.
‘I always knew it would be a good idea,’ Nancy chipped in, ignoring the incredulous looks passed between those sat around the table.
‘You’re doing a grand job over there, Dolly,’ Nellie said.
‘Thank you, Nellie, I couldn’t have managed it without all of you. Just think if Jack hadn’t found me in your yard that night.’ Dolly said with a smile.
‘I dread to think what might have become of you,’ Nancy said, ‘you could have been took off and sold to the bloody gypsies!’
Dolly laughed, then said, ‘Right, no rest for the wicked. I’ll see you all later.’ She left them to their discussions about how lucky they all were.
Poppy and Noah were indeed planning their own wedding for the following year; their courtship having taken no-one by surprise, and Matt Dempster took a serious fancy to Janice Jenkins who now worked for Dolly. Within days of the Palace opening, they had been seen stepping out together, and bets were being taken on which of the brothers would be married first.
Jack spent his days between The Crown Saloon and Daydream Palace, helping out where he could. His arm was now out of its sling but still heavily bandaged and would remain so for some weeks to come to enable the bones to knit together properly.
One frosty morning just before Christmas, Jack and Dolly, who had become very close friends, took a short break from their work to take a stroll to the cemetery to visit Dolly’s mother’s grave. Placing a seasonal wreath on the plot, Dolly laid a hand on the iron-hard ground.
‘Thank you, Mum, for all you’ve done for me. I think you would agree with the steps I have taken to get me to where I am now.’ A lone tear slipped from her eye and a sob caught in her throat. ‘I miss you so much, Mum. Goodnight and God bless.’
Jack held her hand and whispered, ‘You would be as proud of your girl as we all are.’
Suddenly the dark clouds parted and a weak ray of sunlight shone down to rest on the headstone. Then in an instant it was gone again.
‘Come on, Dolly Daydream, that was your mum giving her approval – now it’s time for work.’
As the two walked from the churchyard, Dolly enjoyed what she thought were the last moments of her childhood. A new chapter in her life was just beginning and she looked forward to it with every ounce of her being. The tale of these two youngsters had spread all over Birmingham and beyond and people came from far and wide to see the children from Gin Barrel Lane.