Rag-and-Bone Christmas

‘You’re imagining things, Pa.’ Sally picked up the empty milk jug from the table and reached for her shawl. ‘I’ll be back in two ticks.’

She did not wait for him to argue.

In the stable Flower was pawing the ground as if asking to be taken out for a long ride, but Sally let herself out into the street and went next door to Mrs Maggs’s shop. To her surprise the lady herself was busy serving as if nothing had happened. The tipsy woman from last evening had been transformed into the businesswoman. She had changed into a clean frock, with a spanking white pinafore and mobcap.

‘Good morning, Mrs Maggs,’ Sally said when it was her turn to be served.

Mrs Maggs pulled a face as the previous customer slammed out of the shop. ‘It says clearly “No credit”, but some people either can’t read or they think they can bamboozle me into giving them stuff on tick.’

Sally handed her the jug. ‘Would you be kind enough to fill this, please, and have you any seltzer powders? I’m afraid Pa is feeling a little worse for wear this morning.’

‘Poor dear. I don’t hold with strong drink, but it was the festive season, and he could be forgiven for overindulging.’ She dipped the jug in a large milk churn, shook off the excess and handed it back to Sally. ‘As it happens I do keep seltzers in, as the drunkards round here often ask for them, if they don’t want to bother the apothecary or it’s too far for them to stagger.’

Sally accepted the powders wrapped in slips of paper and paid for her purchases while Mrs Maggs went on and on about the good time she had had the previous evening. It was a relief when another customer breezed into the shop, followed by some young boys, who sidled round, peering into the open boxes of broken biscuits and fingering the goods. Mrs Maggs was round the counter in a flash.

‘Get out of here you young scallywags. You don’t get nothing unless you’ve got the money.’

The boys fled, but stopped outside, staring longingly at the food displayed in the window. Sally had also made her escape, but she hesitated, eyeing the boys who were skinny, dirty and barefooted, even though there was still slushy snow on the pavement. She opened her purse and took out some coppers. ‘Here, boys. Go to the pie man and buy something to eat. Mind you spend it on food, though.’

The eldest of the three snatched the money. ‘Ta, miss. We ain’t eaten since the day afore yesterday.’

‘Where are you parents?’ It was a silly question – Sally knew the answer without waiting to hear the excuses the boys made. She had seen it all before. ‘Come with me, boys. I want to make sure you buy food for yourselves. I don’t want you giving the money to your good-for-nothing dad to spend on drink or tobacco.’

There was a stall on the corner, close to the station, and Sally knew the stallholder. ‘Good morning, Ned.’

He tipped his cap. ‘Morning, Sally. What have we here?’ He eyed the boys suspiciously.

‘Give them what they want to eat and some tea with lots of sugar, please.’

The eldest boy eyed her warily. ‘Why would you treat the likes of us?’

‘Don’t ask questions, Jim.’ His younger brother grabbed a ham roll that Ned offered him, and he passed it to the youngest boy. ‘Eat it slowly now, Benny. Don’t gobble.’

‘Ta, Eddie.’ The smallest boy took a bite and was about to hand it back to his brother when Sally stopped him.

‘That’s yours Benny. You may have one each,’ Sally said hastily.

‘You shouldn’t encourage them. You’ll have a whole pack of guttersnipes on your heels if word gets round.’ Reluctantly, Ned handed two more rolls to the eldest boy. ‘I know your sort, Jim Cotton. Your dad is a wrong ’un.’

Jim snatched the food, and passed one roll to his younger brother before taking a bite from his own. ‘I won’t argue with that, but it ain’t our fault,’ he said, swallowing a mouthful of bread and ham. ‘Ta, miss. We won’t tell no one what you just done.’

Sally gazed at Benny’s small feet, which, despite the layer of ingrained grime, were rapidly turning blue. ‘Why aren’t you wearing shoes?’

‘Shoes cost money what we don’t have, miss.’ Jim faced her with a defiant scowl. ‘I can take care of me brothers, miss. We ain’t going to the workhouse.’

‘Good heavens! I never even thought of the workhouse, Jim.’ Sally leaned across the barrow, lowering her voice. ‘Is that likely, Ned?’

‘Their ma ran off with another man a year ago, and their dad spends any money he earns on the railway in the pub. There’s not much hope for such as them.’

‘I ain’t deaf,’ Jim said angrily. ‘Give us the tea, mate, and we’ll be off.’

‘Can you spare some milk for the little one?’ Sally took some coins from her purse. ‘I can pay extra.’

Ned poured tea into two mugs, adding a generous amount of sugar, and filled another with milk for Benny. He shook his head, tut-tutting, making his disapproval clear.

Sally waited while the boys finished their food and drink. Her own problems seemed minor when she thought about their sad predicament. She still had most of the money that Kelly had given her for the cart, but her heart was touched by the boys’ plight. She came to a sudden decision.

‘Come with me, boys. I’m taking you to the second-hand shop round the corner. I can’t stand to see you barefoot and shivering in this weather.’

‘You might as well throw your money down the drain,’ Ned said grimly. ‘Ten to one, they’ll sell them before the day’s out.’

‘That’s a chance I’ll have to take.’ Sally grabbed Benny by the hand. ‘You’re not going barefoot one minute longer than necessary.’ She walked off, towing a protesting Benny, safe in the knowledge that his older brothers would follow. Sally was used to handling horses, and she reasoned that small boys needed to be treated much the same – love, kindness and a firm hand were what was needed.

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