Chapter 823: Chapter 731 Life in London
England.
East London.
At the rundown, fishy-slling Westport Street Intersection, a seven- or eight-year-old boy hurried to the Feixing Candy Store, glanced at the “rely” two-hundred-person queue, and quickly positioned himself at the end of the line.
He had visited every candy store in the East District, and this one had the fewest people.
The queue moved forward slowly, and the boy occasionally stuck out his dirty little head, gazing hopefully towards the shop.
He could faintly see a few jars left on the dark brown “subsidy” shelf, and a smile of joy appeared on his face.
Finally, after waiting for an hour and a half, the boy reached the front of the shop.
He wiped his nose, tightened the oversized coat clearly altered from adult clothes, and handed the small wooden box in his hand to the shopkeeper:
“Mr. Miller, I’d like to buy 6 ounces of raw sugar.”
“You’re in luck, little Andy,” the plump shopkeeper tilted the last earthen jar, “There’s exactly 5 ounces left.”
Just as he was about to pour the sugar into the boy’s wooden box, a middle-aged man with clothes stained in grease reached out and shoved the box aside, his voice gruff:
“I want all 5 ounces.”
Andy looked up nervously at the man but stood at the counter, determined not to back down.
The shopkeeper Miller covered the jar and said to the middle-aged man:
“Sir, this child was here first.”
“He cut in line.” The middle-aged man impatiently hoisted Andy up and flung him to the side, “See, just like that.”
“You cannot…”
The middle-aged man slapped a few coins onto the counter:
“5 ounces of raw sugar! Stop your fussing; I’ll even pay you 1 penny extra.”
The shopkeeper glanced at Andy, silently pocketed the money, and poured the sugar into the man’s paper bag.
The man walked away satisfied. Andy stepped forward hastily but saw the shopkeeper taking down the “subsidy” sign, revealing the price board behind it: “Raw sugar, 1 shilling and 1 penny per half-pound.”
Andy imdiately burst into tears.
The governnt-subsidized sugar was priced at 9 pence per half-pound, which, although still double last year’s price, was 4 pence cheaper than the regular price.
He only had 7 pence in his pocket, which was originally enough for 6 ounces of sugar. But now, he couldn’t even afford 4 ounces.
Wiping his tears, he pleaded with the shopkeeper:
“Mr. Miller, please, can you sell it to at the subsidized price?”
The shopkeeper sighed: “The weekly quota of 300 pounds of subsidized sugar is already gone. I can’t afford to sell it at a loss.”
Dozens of people still queued behind Andy suddenly surged forward, their voices chaotic:
“We want subsidized sugar!”
“This is too expensive! Why not the subsidized price?”
“You greedy bastard! Let’s not be polite; go in and take it!”
“That’s right, teach this profiteer a lesson!”
The shopkeeper was startled and rushed to close the door, but so people managed to push their way in, their eyes fixed on the sugar jars on the shelves.
“Toot—”
At that mont, a sharp whistle sounded from across the street, and two policen ca running, swinging their batons.
They were a bit too late, though; seven or eight jars of sugar had already been stolen, with one jar smashed on the floor.
The policen severely beat a few troublemakers and arrested one person, causing the crowd to scatter noisily.
The shopkeeper loudly cursed while carefully scooping up the sugar spilled on the floor bit by bit. Sugar was that expensive now. Without subsidies from the governnt, he couldn’t possibly sell it at 9 pence per half-pound.
Andy, anwhile, had been knocked down by the sugar thieves, his legs stomped on heavily. He cried even harder.
Two hours later, the boy carried his small wooden box ho, limping.
As soon as he entered, the woman frying potato chips inside shouted without turning her head: “You finally ca back.”
But when she saw the empty wooden box, she scread sharply: “Where’s the sugar? Useless brat, why didn’t you buy any?!”
“All the subsidized sugar in the shops was sold out…” the boy sobbed.
“You started queueing at noon; you must’ve been lazy sowhere!”
“I wasn’t…”
The woman scolded him for a long while before suddenly sitting on a wooden stool, dejected, wiping away her own tears.
Without sugar, she couldn’t even prepare dinner tonight.
The family would have to eat bland potato chips and black bread—and drink bitter tea.
What was even worse, her husband wouldn’t have sugar for tomorrow’s tea break either.
He worked as a dockworker, and re bread and potato chips were insufficient to sustain him through 14 straight hours of labor.
Only by adding sugar to the tea could he make it to the end of his shift.
After crying for a while, she took the wooden box and went out to buy 4 ounces of sugar at the regular price.
At 8 p.m., a scruffy, sweaty man returned ho, collapsing onto the bed despite his dirty clothes, his voice weak: “Julie, is dinner ready?”
The woman hesitated before handing him a cup of water, softly saying, “We only have 4 ounces of sugar for this week…”
The man sat up abruptly, his voice anxious: “What happened?! Didn’t I leave you 7 pence?”
After the woman explained, he frowned and let out a long sigh, pulling his guilty-looking son close and patting his wife: “It’s okay; we’ll hang on. Next week will be better.”
As he finished speaking, a girl of about twelve or thirteen, wearing a coarse cloth scarf, walked in with red-rimd eyes. She looked around at the three inside before rushing to embrace the woman and cry: “Mom, I got fired from the shop…”
The whole family was astounded.
The man stood up and grabbed her, asking, “Anna, what happened?”
“Mr. Parnell said business has been terrible lately, and he can’t afford to pay anymore, so… sob sob.”
The woman was shocked: “How is this possible? Even a tea shop can’t survive?”
She had no idea that the skyrocketing sugar prices had made it unaffordable for many people. For the British, tea required sugar, and without sugar, tea sales plumted.
Since the sugar cane crisis, Parnell’s shop sales had already dropped by 40%!
The family ate their bland dinner in a house filled with gloom.
Six days later, the man indeed collapsed from exhaustion while carrying cargo at the docks, and his employer deducted three days’ wages without any explanation.
This was a devastating blow to a family already struggling to make ends et.
With their eldest daughter out of work, losing those three days’ wages ant they couldn’t buy enough bread.
Worse still, the situation deteriorated further.
As the London gas lamp company collapse caused more businesses to go bankrupt, unemploynt skyrocketed. The capitalists naturally wouldn’t pass up this “opportunity.”
All factories seed to have reached a tacit agreent to start lowering workers’ pay.
After all, there were plenty of unemployed people outside. If you thought the wages were too low, you could just leave; others would gladly take your place.
Andy’s father also received notice from his employer that his wages would be reduced from 1 pound 12 shillings per month to 1 pound 8 shillings.
Reviews
All reviews (0)