sunken cheeks was sitting on a step, lecherously stroking the blooming cheeks of a full-bosomed woman sitting next to him. A couple of urchins in rags and tatters, who had been nowhere near a bar of soap in a fortnight, rolled over in the gutter and came to blows, one of them squawking with hurt pride.
After only a few minutes, Poppy and Minnie realised that the four youths were following them.
‘Quick, let’s hurry up,’ Poppy urged.
‘Let ’em come,’ Minnie said, unabashed. ‘Mine’s a nice-looking lad.’
‘Oh?’ Poppy queried. ‘What about Dog Meat?’
‘Sod Dog Meat. You take your pick of the other three.’
‘What if Dog Meat sees yer with one of ’em? What if he finds out?’
‘He won’t. He’ll be fuddled out of his mind by now. Any road, I always deny everything.’
‘Are yer gunna go with him then?’ She tilted her head to indicate she meant one of the four lads following at no more than ten yards’ distance now.
‘If he asks me. If he buys me a drink. You want a drink, don’t you, Poppy?’
‘I’m parched.’
‘Well, I’m parched an’ all, and we ain’t got no money to buy one. So let these.’
Minnie stopped and waited for the boys to catch them up. ‘D’you want to buy us a drink?’ she asked forwardly, catching the eye of the lad she fancied.
‘Will you show us your drawers after?’
‘Who says I’ve got any on?’
‘Show us then …’
Minnie shrugged and cocked an eyebrow suggestively. ‘That depends.’
‘Depends on what?’
‘On whether I like yer enough.’
‘Then what?’ the lad asked provocatively.
‘Depends on whether I like yer enough.’ Minnie tantalised him with an alluring look of devilment. ‘Tek me and Poppy for a drink and then it’ll be dark. Who knows what hidey-holes there am round here.’
‘They’m navvies’ wenches, Tom,’ one of the lads murmured apprehensively to the one in charge of these delicate negotiations. ‘From that new cutting down Blowers Green. Yo’ll get yer yed bosted.’
‘They’ll have to catch me fust.’ With a grin, Tom turned to Minnie again. ‘Come on, then. We’ll goo in The Three Crowns.’
It was of no consequence to Poppy and Minnie that The Three Crowns was scarcely more refined than The Wheatsheaf, with its sawdust floor and its spittoons not so strategically placed. Oil lamps hung from hooks screwed into the beams of the low ceiling. The lads barged a way through to the bar and the girls followed compliantly. Soon they were handed a tumbler of beer each, which they quaffed eagerly. They stayed for about an hour, laughing with the lads and their increasingly bawdy humour, until Poppy said it was time she went back to her mother and her brothers and sisters.
‘Stop a bit longer, Poppy,’ Minnie entreated.
Minnie had been getting on famously with Tom; she was obviously equal to his probing indelicacies, and their rapport showed immense mutual promise.
‘No, Min, not with me father out on a randy,’ Poppy insisted. ‘I want to go to my mother.’
‘Luke’ll goo with yer,’ Tom said, keen to part Minnie from her companion and so boost his chances further.
Luke was keen to oblige. He hadn’t taken his eyes off Poppy’s lovely face the whole time but, because of his complete lack of conversation, he had made no impression on her.
‘I’ll walk with yer, Poppy, if yer like,’ he mumbled.
She gave her assent and he finished his beer. Outside, darkness had fallen.
‘So what’s it like, being a navvy?’ Luke asked.
‘How should I know? You should ask me dad. He’s the navvy.’
‘They say it’s hard work.’
‘The hardest job in the world, me dad says.’
‘But they get paid plenty.’
‘And spend plenty,’ Poppy replied, and her contempt for the fact seeped through in her tone. ‘All on beer. They got paid tonight and they was all drunk two hours later. None of ’em will be sober till it’s all spent. About Wednesday at the latest, I reckon. Then they’ll all have to live on truck till the next payday.’
‘What’s truck?’
‘Vouchers,’ Poppy explained. ‘They can buy food, boots and clothes from the contractor’s tommy shop with the vouchers, and then it gets docked off their next wages.’
‘Sounds fair,’ Luke commented.
‘No, it ain’t fair, Luke. Some of the contractors charge a pound for fifteen shillings’ worth of goods. That ain’t fair at all.’
Poppy spied a group of navvies walking towards her and Luke. Even in the darkness you could tell they were navvies by their distinctive mode of dress. They wore white felt hats with the brims turned up, bright neckerchiefs and waistcoats, moleskin jackets and trousers, and big boots. She hoped they wouldn’t recognise her as they approached.
‘You’d best leave me now,’ Poppy suggested, fearing for Luke’s safety.
‘Not till we’ve gone past this lot.’
‘No, they’re navvies from the Blowers Green cutting. If they recognise me, they’ll make trouble for you.’ She looked around for some means of escape. ‘Quick, let’s hide in that alley, out of the way.’
She shoved him into it unceremoniously. There was a gate at the top and he took the initiative and opened it, leading her quickly through. He put his forefinger to her lips, gesturing her to remain silent, and pressed himself to her while they waited. The warmth of his body against her made her heart pound with a bewildering mixture of pleasure at his closeness, and fear at the sound of footsteps, scuffs and the navvies’ muttering and swearing in the alley. But the men were too drunk to know what they were doing or who they had seen, and quickly lost interest in their search. Poppy and Luke lingered a minute longer, enraptured by this enforced intimacy, yet lacking the confidence or know-how to exploit it.
‘You’d best go back,’ Poppy said, when they were out in the street again. ‘I’ll be all right from here. I know the navvies. They won’t hurt me, ’cause of me dad, but they’d kill you if they saw you with me.’
‘Any chance o’ seein’ you again, Poppy?’ Luke asked.
Poppy smiled appealingly and shrugged. ‘You never know. If me and Minnie come up to the town again.’ Luke seemed a decent lad; he’d shown her consideration and a heart-quickening, gentle
