To Have and To Hold

‘Even so…’

‘Even so nothing,’ Lois said airily. ‘Come on, this is Colmore Row now.’

The road was long and wide with tram tracks laid the length of it. Carmel’s eye was caught by an imposing building on her right. It had many storeys, supported by pillars, and arched windows. ‘Snow Hill Station’ was written above the entrance.

‘There are three stations in Birmingham,’ Lois said, taking in her gaze. ‘The one you arrived in was New Street, this is Snow Hill and the other one is called Moor Street down Digbeth way. We’ll be nearly beside it when we are down the Bull Ring. But that is for later.’ She pointed. ‘If you look across the road now you will see St Philip’s Cathedral. See, it’s no bigger than St Chad’s.’

It was grand, though, Carmel thought, taking in the majestic arched, stained-glass windows. There was a tower above the main structure and a clock set just beneath the blue dome above it. All around the church were trees and tended lawns interspersed with paths, with benches here and there for people to rest on. Carmel thought it a very pleasant place altogether and would have liked the opportunity to sit and watch the world go by.

However, Lois was in no mood for sitting. She led the way up the road, and after a short distance it opened out before a tall and imposing building of light brick.

‘Our own Big Ben,’ Lois told Carmel with a smile, pointing to a large clock in a tower at the front of it, ‘known as “Big Brum” and this statue here is of Queen Victoria.’ She led Carmel over to look at the statute of the old and rather disgruntled-looking queen.

‘And that truly magnificent building in front of us is the Town Hall you spoke about?’ Carmel asked.

‘The very same.’

‘It’s huge!’ Carmel said, approaching the marvellous structure. ‘Look at the enormous arches on the ground floor and those giant columns soaring upwards from it, and all the carvings and decoration.’

‘You never really look at the place you live in,’ Lois said. ‘And I am ashamed to say that, though I knew all about the Town Hall, I’ve never truly seen its grandeur until now. It’s supposed to be based on a Roman temple.’

‘Gosh, Lois,’ said Carmel in admiration. ‘What a lovely city you have.’

Lois was surprised and pleased. ‘You haven’t even seen the shops yet,’ she said.

‘Well,’ said Carmel, ‘what are we waiting for?’ She linked arms with Lois and they sallied forth together.

Carmel came from a thriving town, a county town, which she’d always thought was quite big, but she saw that it was a dwarf of a place compared to Birmingham. The pavements on New Street, on every street, were thronged with people, and she had never seen such traffic as they turned towards the centre where cars, trucks, lorries and vans jostled for space with horse-drawn carts, diesel buses and clanking, swaying trams.

Carmel had never see a sight like it—so many people gathered together in one place—had never heard such noise and had never had the sour, acrid taste of engine fumes that had lodged in the back of her throat and her mouth. The size of the buildings shocked her as much as the array of shops or things on offer. Some of the stores were on several floors. Lois had taken her inside a few of these and she had stood mesmerised by the goods for sale, by the lights in the place, the smart shop assistants.

Some of the counters housed enormous silver tills, which the assistants would punch the front of and the prices would be displayed at the top. Carmel had seen tills before, but none as impressive as these. Best of all, though, were the counters that had no till at all. There the assistant would issue a bill, which, together with the customer’s money, would be placed in a little metal canister that was somehow attached to wires crisscrossing the shop. It would swoop through the air to a cashier who was usually sitting up in a high glass-sided little office. She would then deal with the receipt and, if there was any change needed, put it in the canister and the process would be reversed.

It was so entertaining, Carmel could have watched it all day. But Lois was impatient. ‘Come on, there is so much to see yet. Have you ever been in a lift?’

No. Carmel had never been in a lift and when Lois had taken her up and down in one, wasn’t sure she wanted to go in again either.

‘I’ll stick with the stairs, thank you,’ she said.

Lois grinned. ‘I’ll take you to some special stairs,’ she said, when they were in Marshall & Snelgrove. ‘See how you like them.’

Carmel didn’t like them one bit. ‘They are moving.’

‘Of course they are.’ Lois said. ‘It’s called an escalator.’

‘How would you get on to it?’ Carmel said. ‘I prefer my stairs to be static.’

‘Where’s your sense of adventure?’ Lois demanded. ‘It’s easy, even children use them. Come on, follow me.’

Carmel did, stepping onto the escalator gingerly and nearly losing her balance totally when the stair folded down beneath her foot. All the way to the next floor she didn’t feel safe, but still she felt proud of herself for actually doing it.

‘They have escalators in Lewis’s too, where Dad works. You remember me telling you?’ Lois asked. When Carmel nodded she added, ‘Well, that is where I am going to take you next.’

Carmel thought Lewis’s at the top of Corporation Street a most unusual shop altogether. It appeared to be two shops on either side of a little cobbled street called The Minories, though Lois said they joined at the third floor.

Carmel gazed upwards. ‘I can see they join somewhere.’

‘The fifth floor is the place to be,’ Lois said. ‘It’s full of toys.’

‘Toys?’

‘Yes, but toys like you have never seen. Before my mother took to lying on a couch all day long and moaning and groaning, she’d bring us to town sometimes and we always begged to go to the toy floor. I have to go again, if only to see if it has the same fascination now that I am an adult.’

With a smile, Carmel agreed to go with Lois so that she could satisfy her curiosity, but she didn’t expect to be much interested herself. What an eye-opener she got.

The first thing she saw were model trains running round the room, up hill and down dale, passing through countryside, under tunnels and stopping at little country stations where you could see the streets and houses and people. Then they would be off again, changing lines as the signals indicated.

‘It’s magical, isn’t it?’ Lois said at her side. ‘I used to watch it as long as I was allowed.’

Carmel could only nod, understanding that perfectly.

There were other toys too, of course, when Carmel was able to tear herself away—huge forts full of lead soldiers, or cowboys and Indians. There were also big garages with every toy car imaginable and a variety of car tracks for them to run along.

Another section had soft-bodied dolls with china heads and all manner of clothes nice enough to put on a real-life baby, and the cots and prams and pushchairs you would hardly credit.

‘Did you have toys like these?’ Carmel asked Lois.

‘No,’ Lois said. ‘Our stuff was basic, nothing like these magnificent things.’

Carmel wandered around the department, mesmerised. Teddy bears, rocking horses, hobby horses, spinning tops, skipping ropes with fancy handles, jack-in-the-boxes and kaleidoscopes were just some of the things she knew her little brothers and sisters would love. There were giant dolls’ houses, full of minute furniture and little people that would thrill the girls. And she so wished she could buy her brothers a proper football, for all they had to kick about were rags tied together, or the occasional pig’s bladder they begged from the butcher in the town. And wouldn’t they just love the cricket sets and blow football, and they could all have a fine game with the ping-pong.

The only thing the Duffy children had to spin was the lid of a saucepan, and their toys were buttons, clothes pegs, or stones. Any dolls were made of rags. Carmel felt suddenly immeasurably sad for her siblings, but even worse, she also felt guiltily glad that she was no longer there to share their misery.

‘Well,’ said Lois, ‘I don’t know about you, but I am ready for my dinner and Lyons is as close as anywhere.’

‘Are you sure you can afford it?’

‘Don’t start that again,’ Lois said. ‘We have already discussed it. Come on quick for my stomach thinks my throat is cut.’

Carmel realised she too was hungry and her stomach growled in appreciation when just a little later a steaming plate of golden fish and crispy chips was placed before her. Both girls did the meal justice, and Lois sighed with satisfaction as she ate the last morsel.

‘Ooh, that’s better,’ she said. ‘It’s amazing how a meal revives you. I was feeling quite tired.’

‘So was I,’ Carmel said. ‘But I have enjoyed today, for all that. You have a very interesting city here, Lois.’

‘You know,’ Lois said. ‘I have never really thought that before. What do you say to us exploring the Bull Ring now?’

‘I say lead the way,’ Carmel said, and the two girls left the cafeteria arm in arm.

The Bull Ring astounded Carmel. There were women grouped around a statue selling flowers, such a colourful and fragrant sight, though she had to shake her head at the proffered bunches for she hadn’t enough spare money to buy flowers.

The hawkers, selling all manner of things from their barrows, swept down the cobbled incline to another church that Lois told her was called St Martin-in-the Fields, though there were precious little fields around, she noted. It was however, ringed by trees, its spire towering skyward.

Everywhere hawkers shouted out their wares, vying with the clamour of the customers. One old lady’s strident voice rose above the others. She was standing in front of Woolworths, which the two girls were making for, and she was selling carrier bags and determined to let everybody know about it.

‘Woolworths is called the tanner shop,’ Lois said.

The two girls wandered up and down the aisles, looking at all the different things for sale for sixpence or less.

‘Everything is just sixpence?’ Carmel asked in amazement.

‘Oh, yes,’ Lois said with a smile. ‘Though some say that it’s a swizz. I mean, you do get a teapot for a tanner, but if you want a lid for it that is another tanner and a teapot is not much good without a lid, is it?’

‘No,’ Carmel agreed. ‘But I don’t know that that is not such a bad idea. After all, it is usually the lid breaks first. I would be very handy to be able to get another and all for just sixpence.’

‘Well, yes,’ Lois conceded. ‘That’s another way of looking at it, I suppose. Come on, I want to take a dekko at Hobbies next door.’

The window of Hobbies was full of wooden models of planes, cars and ships of all shapes, sizes and designs. Carmel was amazed at the detail and size of them.

‘My brother would spend hours in here,’ Lois said. ‘They sell kits, you know, to make the things you can see, and Santa always had one in his sack that he would drop off ready for Christmas morning.’ She wrinkled her nose and went on, ‘I can smell the glue even now. It was disgusting.

‘Now,’ she said, turning away from the shop, ‘I think the Rag Market is the place we’ll make for next, down by the church. Watch out for the trams. They come rattling around in front of St Martin’s like the very devil and there might be a couple of drayhorses pulling carts too.’

‘Drayhorses I have no problem with,’ Carmel said. ‘I’m used to horses, but those trams frighten the life out of me. I will give them a wide berth, never fear.’

Lois laughed. ‘You’ll soon get used to them,’ she said, but Carmel doubted she would. She’d seldom seen anything so scary.

Once inside the hall, there was a pervading odour.

‘What’s the stink?’ Carmel asked Lois. ‘It’s like fish.’

‘It is fish, left over from the weekdays when this place is used as a fish market,’ Lois said. ‘But never mind that. This is the place where bargains are to be had.’

Carmel thought it a strange place, for while some of the goods were displayed on trestle tables, others were just laid on blankets spread on the floor. She was very interested in the second-hand stalls where she saw many good quality clothes being sold comparatively cheaply, and she thought she would bear that in mind in case she needed anything another time.

She could have spent longer in the market, for such unusual things were being sold there. She stood mesmerised by the mechanical toys a man was selling. Catching Carmel’s interest, he wound up a spinning top.

‘On the table, on the chair, little devils go everywhere,’ he chanted. ‘Only a tanner. What d’you say?’

What Carmel would have liked to have said was that she would take four or five to send home to her wee brothers and sisters. She could imagine their excitement, but instead she turned her head away regretfully. ‘I’m sorry. I haven’t the money to spare.’

‘Your loss, lady.’

‘Come on,’ Lois urged. ‘I want you to see Peacocks. You can buy almost anything there, and we must go to the Market Hall before we leave.’

When they were outside the Rag Market a far more pleasant smell than that of stale fish assailed Carmel’s nostrils and she sniffed appreciatively.

‘That’s the smell from Mountford’s, where they’re cooking the joints of meat,’ Lois said. ‘Makes you feel hungry, doesn’t it?’

‘Not half.’

They passed the shop, where there was the tantalising sight of a sizzling joint on a spit turning in the window. Carmel felt her mouth water. It would be at least another hour before she ate anything, for she and Lois were not meeting the others until five and it was only four o’clock.

‘Come on,’ Lois urged. ‘Let’s go and see around Peacocks. I used to love this too when I was just a child.’

Peacocks was packed—Lois said it always was and Carmel could well see why, for the store had such a conglomeration of things for sale, clothes and toys as well as anything you would conceivably need for the house.

Outside Peacocks, a hawker had a stall selling fish. ‘What am I asking for these kippers?’ he demanded. ‘A tanner a pair, that’s what. Come on, ladies, get out your purses. You won’t get a bargain like this every day.’

Because of the press of people, the girls had reached the steps leading up to the gothic pillars either side of the door into the Market Hall before Carmel noticed the men. They were shabbily and inadequately dressed, their boots well cobbled, and the greasy caps rammed on over their heads hiding much of their thin grey faces. They all had trays around their necks, selling bootlaces, razor blades, matches and hairgrips. Carmel felt a flash of pity for them, and as soon as they were in the Hall and out of the men’s hearing, asked who they were.

‘Flotsam from the last war,’ Lois told her. ‘They can’t get proper jobs, you see. I mean, there is little work anyway, but some of these men couldn’t do anything hard or physical, because many are damaged in some way from the war, shell-shocked perhaps, or suffering from the effects of gas. There is one man comes sometimes and he’s blind and led along by a friend, and another with only one leg.’

‘It’s awful,’ Carmel burst out. ‘And so unfair. These men have fought for their country—surely the government should look after them now.’

‘Of course they should, but when has that made any difference?’

‘Yes, but—’

‘Look,’ Lois said, ‘this is your first experience of this, but I have seen them there for years. You get almost used to it, though if I have any spare cash I will buy something because I do feel sorry for them. But if we get upset, it won’t change things for them, will it?’

And of course it wouldn’t. Carmel saw that and she took her lead from Lois. In the Market Hall there was much to distract her, anyway, for, like the barrows outside, stalls selling meat, vegetables and fish were side by side with junk and novelty stalls and others selling pots and pans, cheap crockery, sheets and towels. However, for Carmel the main draw was the pet stall.

She had never owned a pet, and though she would have loved a cuddly kitten of her own, or a boisterous puppy to take for walks, she knew there had been barely enough food for the children, never mind an animal. She’d never have taken a defenceless animal near her father either, for she thought a man who would beat his wife and children without thought or care, wouldn’t think twice about kicking an animal to death if the notion took him.

There were rabbits and guinea pigs in cages, and twittering canaries and budgies that Lois spent ages trying to get to talk. Carmel had never heard of a talking budgie and was inclined to be sceptical. However, just as Lois was maintaining that some budgies did talk and she had an aunt who had owned such a bird, there was a sudden shriek and a raucous voice burst out, ‘Mind the mainsail. Keep it steady, lads. Who’s a pretty boy then?’

The milling customers laughed and the stall owner went into the back to bring out a parrot that neither Lois nor Carmel had noticed.

‘There,’ Lois said with satisfaction. ‘I told you that some birds can talk.’

‘You said budgies could, not parrots,’ Carmel contradicted. ‘I knew about parrots, though I had never heard one until today.’

‘Even budgies…’

However, Lois didn’t get to finish the sentence, because someone beside her suddenly said, ‘It’s nearly five o’clock.’

Carmel put the kitten she had been holding back in the box, and stood up, brushing the straw lint from her coat. ‘We’d better get our skates on,’ she said. ‘The other will be there before we are.’

‘No, wait on,’ Lois said. ‘If we are a few minutes late, they won’t mind. They can have a cup of tea or something.’

‘But what are we waiting for?’

‘The clock,’ Lois said, pulling Carmel to the front of the stall. Everyone was suddenly still, Carmel noticed, and gazing up at the wooden clock on the wall, watching the seconds ticking by. And then the hour was reached and three figures, like knights and a lady, emerged to strike a set of bells to play a tinkling, but lilting tune. Carmel was as enthralled as anyone else.

‘Oh, it’s lovely,’ she cried, when the strains of it had died away.

‘It wasn’t always here,’ Lois said, as they walked outside again. ‘It was first put into an arcade up Dale End way, but my dad said that the arcade went out of business through lack of custom. He told me the man who made the clock was never paid the full asking price and he is supposed to have put a curse on it and that was why the arcade in Dale End had to close. That is hardly going to happen here, though, to the thriving Market Hall. You saw that for yourself today.’

‘Yes I did,’ Carmel agreed. ‘But I can’t help feeling sorry for the man who made the clock not getting the money for it. It’s a magnificent piece of work and must have taken him ages and ages—and then to be diddled like that…’

‘You’re all for the underdog, aren’t you?’ Lois said. ‘First the old lags on the market steps and now the poor clockmaker. I’ve never ever given that man a minute’s thought.’

‘I don’t like unfairness.’

‘No more do I,’ Lois said. ‘Only now that I am nearly grown up I see that there is unfairness everywhere, and as individuals there isn’t much we can do about it. The poverty of this place, which I imagine is repeated in most cities, would really depress you if you let it. You sometimes have to rise above it, even if you care desperately.’

Carmel said nothing more, for wasn’t that just what she had done—risen above neglect, poverty and the downright tyranny of her home and left the others to manage as best they could? She had cared while she was there, for all the good it did, but when this means of escape had been handed to her, she had grasped it thankfully and pulled herself up. She had no intention of letting herself go back to that sort of situation ever again and so without another word she followed Lois to meet the others.

CHAPTER FOUR

Carmel was surprised when, after a very substantial tea, Jane and Sylvia elected to go back to the Bull Ring when Lois asked them what they wanted to do for the evening.

‘Is there any point?’ Carmel asked. ‘I mean, won’t everywhere be closed now?’

Sylvia laughed. ‘Not tonight,’ she said. ‘Tell you, girl, you’ve not lived till you see a Saturday night down the Bull Ring.’

Carmel wasn’t convinced. Lois had mentioned both the music hall and cinema, and Carmel would have given her right arm to see either. Though free tickets sometimes came for the probationary nurses, Carmel had always refused any invitation for she felt she hadn’t the clothes for such outings. Now though, she would have put up with the embarrassment of that to have an evening out with her special friends.

‘After all, the night is mild enough,’ Jane remarked.

‘Yeah,’ Sylvia agreed. ‘Might as well make the most of it. We can go to the pictures or music hall another time, when the weather isn’t so kind to us.’

Only Lois saw the brief flash of disappointment cover Carmel’s face. ‘Do you mind?’ she said. ‘Is that where you want to go too?’

Carmel had never had friends before. Because of the type of home she came from, she had never had anyone to link arms with and whisper confidences to, or go out to the socials at the chapel with. And she wasn’t going to risk damaging the relationship developing between her and the others by going against them now. So she said, ‘I honestly don’t care where we go. It is all new to me, don’t forget, so everywhere is an adventure.’

The dusk had deepened as they made their way back to the Bull Ring and Carmel saw that around the barrows, and in other strategic points, there were spluttering gas flares, slicing through the darkness and making the whole place look a little like a sort of fairyland, and as different from the Bull Ring in the daytime as it was possible to be. And then in the shadows cast by the lights, Carmel spied some beshawled women lurking, many with babies in their arms and surrounded by raggedy children with bare feet, arms and legs like sticks.

‘What are they doing here?’ she asked, appalled.

‘Waiting for the hawkers to virtually give the stuff away,’ Sylvia said. ‘They do that at the end of the day and those poor old buggers go home with some scrappy meat and overripe veg and look like they have won a king’s ransom.’

‘These are the real poor that I mentioned earlier,’ Lois said. ‘They are always here of a Saturday and you can just stand here all night and stare at them, which will either make them feel more ashamed, or else angry, or you can do them the dignity of pretending you see nothing amiss and come about with the rest of us.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Carmel said. ‘I never thought of it that way.’

‘Watch out!’ called Jane, who was a little way in front. ‘The stilt walkers are coming.’

The crowds parted to let past the incredibly tall men, dressed in exceedingly long black trousers, striped blazers and shiny top hats. They doffed their hats to the people, who threw money into them.

‘Just how do they do that?’ Carmel asked.

‘Who knows?’ Jane said. ‘But they’re good.’

‘Carmel, you have seen nothing yet,’ Sylvia promised.

‘Jimmy Jesus is getting up on his soap box,’ Lois called.

‘Jimmy Jesus?’

‘The old fellow with the white beard,’ Lois pointed.

‘Is that his real name?’

‘No,’ Lois said. ‘Don’t know if anyone actually knows what his real name is. But that is all I have ever heard him called, ’cos as well as the way he looks he spouts on about the Bible, you see.’

‘There’s usually some fun when the hecklers start,’ Sylvia said. ‘I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m not ready for a sermon just yet a while.’

‘Me, neither,’ Jane declared. ‘Let’s take a look at the boxing.’

Carmel didn’t say, but she hated the boxing, where a big bruiser of a man challenged those in the crowds for a match. ‘Knock the champ down and you win five pounds,’ his promoter urged from the corner.