To Have and to Hold by Anne Bennett Page B

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’recooking 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 someway 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