Giuseppe Ferraria put his shoulder to the side of the cart.
"Come on Raggazzo, look sharp. Put your shoulder in, and we'll give poor Dick
some help up Duke Street."
The Irish cob, feeling the support from behind,
stepped out again with a will. As they reached the top of the hill, Giuseppe
went forward and took the reins. He patted the horse's neck.
"You're too
fat, Dick," he said, "too many cakes and sweetmeats from your admirers."
Dick tossed his head against the flies. His flanks were soaked with sweat and
he was trembling in the heat. Giuseppe took off his ice cap and mopped his neck
and brow. Pity about Raggazzo. It was not fair to start an assistant on a day
like this and in this heat. Why they had been up at the Depot at 4 a.m. this
morning cutting the ice and loading up and Ragazzo had been all fingers and
thumbs with his ice tongs. Of course moving heavy blocks of ice was a knack,
but it had taken them twice the time to load up the two tons, weigh out and get
down to Piccadilly and Pall Mall for the early delivery.
Today was Derby Day, so his first customers were the lords and ladies who'd be driving down to Epsom later in the morning, with their hampers and ice boxes full of dressed poultry and lobsters and their bottles of champagne. It was a sight to see the rows of carriages out in the mews in the early sunlight, with the coach boys polishing up the windows and the paintwork and the servants scurrying here and there packing up chairs and rugs and loading in the hampers. But once those deliveries were done, there were the regular customers, the butchers, fishmongers and one or two big hotels. He and Ragazzo would be back to the Depot by 8 o'clock for their second two tons.
On the second round, Ragazzo was more wide awake and getting the hang of things. He discovered that Giuseppe knew exactly the quantity of ice each of his customers required. At the depot he had marked off the blocks with his pick, so that when they arrived at a particular shop all he had to do was to split the ice and Ragazzo could carry it in straightaway. It was a really heavy job carrying the ice and seeing Ragazzo struggling with a block, Giuseppe said, "You've got to be strong to be an iceman, but you'll learn," and he added, "You've got to be sharp too and watch your load and your bucket of cash."
And at the next stop, he was proved right, for as they both came
out of the fishmonger's yard to collect more blocks of ice, there were two lads
on top of the cart with ice picks in their hands, cutting themselves some ice,
calm as you please.
"Va via," shouted Giuseppe, and as the boys leapt off
the cart "after them Ragazzo." Ragazzo gave chase but the boys had a head start
and were too quick for him. As they turned the corner into Jermyn Street, he
caught sight of their faces and realised with shock that they were the two
younger boys of the gang who had so often pestered him. One of them,
recognising him too, darted back round the corner, waving an ice pick and
shouting "Hokey Pokey" and then disappeared.
"Well, I can't blame them," said Giuseppe as Ragazzo returned to the cart. "It's so hot. You'll see, we'll get a lot of customers today asking for threepennyworth of ice to cool their drinks. And if this heat goes on, our customers' ice chests will need filling every other day."
Giuseppe was right. It was a gruelling first week for Ragazzo in his new job and at the end of the week - disaster.
He was just delivering the last blocks of ice to Thoroughgood's
the butchers and returning down the narrow alleyway from the back of the shop,
when the same two ragged dirty boys barred his way. One grabbed him by the
throat and pushed him up against the wall.
"See here, Hokey Pokey, when
you bring down the last block, leave the gate open at the bottom of the alley."
Ragazzo tried to protest. The boy pressed him even harder against the wall
and held the ice pick before his face.
"Get it, comprendo? Leave the gate
open - or I'll do 'yer."
Shocked by the sudden attack, Ragazzo started back towards the
cart.
"We're waiting for 'yer," the other boy called in a hoarse whisper.
To Ragazzo's horror Giuseppe was nowhere to be seen. He turned and saw the boys watching him. Frightened he shouldered the last block off the cart and walked back, passing the boys. He delivered the load and as he returned the boys darted in through the unlatched gate.
