by Cathy Sharp
‘Quite big,’ Ron agreed, ‘but thinner.’
‘So, he’d be able to get in small windows and things?’
‘Mebbe …’ Ron’s eyes widened. ‘You think he wants Danny to help him steal things?’
‘Perhaps – it just made me wonder, that’s all.’ He looked up at the sky. ‘I reckon it might rain so we’ll get this done, Ron, and then we can go for our break and have something to eat.’
Ron nodded but was thoughtful as he helped his friend and employer to finish the shed they were working on. He was hungry and it was just starting to rain as they packed up and ran for the shelter of the truck. Ron had been lucky when he met Ted, but Danny might be forced to do all sorts of things even if it was his father that had caught him. They couldn’t be sure of that – it might have been one of the men who’d got them before … That thought made Ron shudder. If Danny had fallen into the clutches of men like that he would disappear, never to be seen again.
Ted was just about to move off when he saw the police constable coming towards him with an upstretched hand. He paused and wound down the window to hear what he had to say.
‘Can I help you, Constable?’
‘I think you may.’ The officer smiled through the window. ‘Hello, Ron – how are you?’
‘Very well, sir. This is my friend Ted – we work together.’
The police constable nodded. ‘And you think you saw Danny being dragged off by a man?’
‘Yes, I’m sure I did.’
‘Let the constable get in beside you out of the rain,’ Ted instructed and Ron obligingly budged up to allow Steve the room to sit with them. ‘You know Ron – so you must be Constable Jones.’
‘Yes, I was able to help him and Danny,’ Constable Jones replied. He reached across Ron to shake hands. ‘I wondered if there was any more information you could give me?’
‘We chased after them,’ Ted said frowning, ‘but by the time we turned the corner they had disappeared and there was a crossroads. We drove all the way round for a while but couldn’t see them so we went to the nearest station and reported it.’
‘You did exactly right,’ Steve said and looked at Ron. ‘I just wondered if Danny told you anything about his father – the places he went, what he did for a living … anything you could think of at all?’
Ron thought for a moment, then, ‘I think he worked on the docks, last thing Danny knew, but he lost his job after his wife died and he started drinking.’
Ted frowned, his eyes narrowing in thought. ‘What is Danny’s second name? Do you know, Ron?’
Ron shook his head, but the constable said, ‘It’s Bryant – his father is Jim Bryant and they lived in Little Lane – why?’
‘Good God!’ Ted said and looked furious. ‘Jim Bryant’s my late sister’s husband! I fell out with him before my sister died and he wouldn’t let me in the house when I heard she’d died, so when Ron told me about his friend Danny, I had no idea. I haven’t seen Daniel since he was about five.’
‘So Danny might be your nephew?’ Constable Jones wrote it all down in his book. ‘That helps quite a bit, sir – you might know more than Ron, perhaps?’
‘I know Bryant drinks a lot – that’s why we fell out.’ Ted looked thoughtful. ‘He worked on the docks doing anything he could – unloading, labouring. He was never a skilled man as far as I know and I could never see what my sister loved about him. I thought he was a big brute, though I suppose he was better when she was alive.’
Constable Jones kept writing. ‘So, we should look on the docks, then? We would have done so anyway but that certainly helps. Anything else?’
‘Yes, there is,’ Ted said remembering. His mouth tightened. ‘He had a short sentence for housebreaking some years ago. I warned Doris to leave him then, but she forgave him for the sake of her son.’
‘A mistake too many women make,’ Constable Jones agreed. ‘That may come in useful if he has decided to go back to his old ways.’
‘Yes …’ Ted frowned. ‘Where was Danny living?’
‘With his foster mother – a Mrs Beattie Robinson of Bell Lane,’ Steve Jones said. ‘Look, it might be a good idea if you went around to see her, sir. When we find Danny – and we shall – you may wish to be involved in his future?’
‘Yes, I will indeed, and so will Ron,’ Ted said. ‘I was in the Army for years, Constable, but couldn’t find work after I was invalided out and my pension didn’t come through as it was supposed to and so I was reduced to living on the streets – which is where I met Ron. However, we’re starting to earn a good living now and my hope is we shall have a home of our own one day.’
‘I’m glad to hear that.’ Constable Jones looked at Ron. ‘Are you happy and safe living with your employer, Ron?’
‘Yes, sir – the best I’ve ever been in my life.’
‘Good.’ Constable Jones smiled at him. ‘I’m going to speak to Lady Rosalie and ask her if you can become Ron’s legal guardian, Mr Phillips,’ Constable Jones said. ‘I know he’s all right with you, but under the law you must be his foster parent – or adopt him. Lady Rosalie can, and will, I’m sure, help you do that with my recommendation. Will you give me your address so that she can arrange to meet you both?’
‘Yes, of course,’ Ted said and enunciated it clearly so that Steve could write it down. ‘Once we get Danny back, I’d like to adopt the pair of them so that they can be together.’
‘That sounds like a very good idea to me,’ Constable Jones said. ‘I know Danny has a good foster mother already but it might be better for him to live with a blood relation. I’ll speak to Lady Rosalie and she’ll be in touch.’
‘That’s good of you,’ Ted said. ‘We’re going to get something to eat – can I drop you near the station?’
‘Thank you, but I have other calls to make,’ Constable Jones said. ‘I’ll wish you good day, sir – and I’ll be in touch.’
‘Please do,’ Ted said. ‘We’ll keep a lookout on the docks and if we hear anything we’ll come and let you know.’ He looked at Ron when Steve got out and there was excitement in his voice. ‘That is good news, lad – it means I’ll be able to look after the pair of you.’
‘And me and Danny can be brothers,’ Ron said and grinned. ‘It’s all I wanted to make life perfect – as long as we find Danny safe and sound.’
‘Yes …’ A grim look came into Ted’s eyes. ‘If that devil harms Danny I’ll kill him and that’s no lie!’
CHAPTER 25
Peter Clark entered the children’s ward with mixed feelings. He’d asked Nurse Jenny out on the spur of the moment the first time they’d gone out and he’d enjoyed his time with her on a few more occasions, but in his heart he realised that he’d made a mistake. The woman he wanted to get to know, had hoped he might perhaps spend his life with, was Sister Rose. He knew that Nurse Jenny was on night duty and so would not be working, but he saw Sister Rose immediately, ministering to one of her patients. Watching as she worked kindly and efficiently, he cursed himself for his idiocy in asking another nurse to the theatre when he’d planned to take the woman he loved.
Rose turned and saw him standing by her desk and for a moment he thought her eyes lit in the old way when she saw him, but then the light faded and her smile was no more than polite as she approached.
‘Dr Clark,’ she said in the cool voice she reserved for him these days. ‘Thank you for coming. One of our patients is being sick a little too often and Matron thought we should ask you to look at her.’
‘Of course,’ he replied, his manner that of the interested doctor when underneath he wanted to beg her to forgive him – but of course he must speak to Nurse Jenny first. ‘May I examine her, please?’
‘Yes, of course,’ Sister Rose told him. ‘Her name is Laura and she came in with a tummy ache two days ago. We did an X-ray and could find no cause and then the pain disappeared and we were going to discharge her tomorrow.’
‘And now she has started to be sick – how often?’
‘Four time
s since breakfast.’
‘It sounds like an infection,’ he mused. ‘Does she have a temperature at all?’
‘Not when I took it an hour ago.’ He frowned and she nodded, her manner softening as she forgot to be distant with him, her thoughts only of her patient. ‘Yes, it is a little strange …’
They approached the bed where the little girl was lying up against her pillows. She looked anxious and nervous as he asked if he might examine her. She nodded but didn’t speak as he lifted her nightgown and gently felt round her tummy, looking under her arms and lifting her gently forward to examine her back. Her breathing was fine when he used his stethoscope after blowing on it to warm it and he could find no sign of anything that might be causing the sickness. He was wondering if he should order another X-ray when the little girl touched Sister Rose’s arm and looked at her in such a way that alarm bells rang in his head.
‘If I’m sick you won’t send me home, will you?’ she asked tremulously.
Peter sat on the edge of her bed and reached for her hand, holding it gently. ‘Would you rather stay here, Laura?’ She nodded vigorously. ‘Could you tell me why please?’
‘I’ll tell her,’ Laura said staring desperately at Sister Rose.
Peter stood up. Children usually trusted and clung to him; if this little girl preferred to tell a nurse there was something very wrong.
He walked to the nurses’ desk and stood there talking idly to Nurse Margaret, who was on duty that morning. Sister Rose was listening to Laura’s tale and nodding. When it finished, she leaned forward and lightly kissed the little girl’s cheek. He waited for her to return to him but had already made his own diagnosis.
‘She is terrified of her stepmother,’ Sister Rose told him. ‘Her father was always kind to her but now he believes that she is naughty and smacks her when she’s done nothing. Laura says her stepmother pinches her and hits her and tells her to go to her room. She claims to have been shut in the coalshed for a day and that her stepmother told her father she’d hidden there and he’d smacked her bottom and told her he was ashamed of her.’
‘So, the sickness is either nerves or self-induced.’ Peter nodded. It fitted with his own thoughts that there was nothing physically wrong with the child.
‘In that case we must speak to Matron and Lady Rosalie at once,’ Sister Rose said. ‘If you could do that – p-please?’ Her voice caught with emotion. ‘I’m not sure I could do it without crying …’ Even as she spoke a little sob left her and tears ran down her cheeks.
‘What on earth’s the matter, Rose?’ Peter asked, forgetting to maintain his professional formality because she was upset.
‘I can’t … Forgive me, this is not professional. I should not bring my personal grief into the ward …’
Peter frowned, trying to think of what could have caused this emotional breakdown in the most efficient nurse he knew. ‘Can’t you tell me, Rose? I really would like to help you, personal reason or not.’
She shook her head, brushing the tears from her face impatiently. ‘Speak to Matron, she will tell you – and now I really must not take up any more of your time …’
He watched as she walked away to one of the other children and fought the urge to go after her and make her speak to him. Giving his head a little shake, he left the ward and went along the corridor to Matron’s office.
He spoke first of their patient, explained why he’d come to the conclusion that the child was suffering from anxiety rather than a physical complaint, and Matron agreed, thanking him for his time.
‘I shall contact both Lady Rosalie and Constable Jones,’ she said. ‘He is very reliable, particularly in cases concerning children, and he will get to the bottom of this; if the child is telling the truth – which I personally do not doubt – the law will step in to remove her from their custody.’
‘Yes, that sounds the best way to go ahead,’ Peter agreed. ‘And now, if I may – could I ask about Sister Rose? She seemed rather upset by the child’s revelation – more than I would normally expect.’
Matron hesitated, then, ‘Sister Rose and her landlady, Beattie Robinson, fostered that young lad who was abducted and was a patient here, Danny Bryant. Well, the poor boy has been snatched by his brutal father at a church fete and Rose and Beattie are both very worried and upset …’
‘No, how terrible,’ Peter said genuinely shocked. ‘How could such a thing happen in full public view?’
‘Apparently, Beattie turned her back for five minutes and the stallholder who witnessed it said he believed the man to be Danny’s father and did not like to interfere.’
Peter muttered an oath, careful not to speak it out loud and offend Matron. He felt furiously angry and wished that he’d known sooner. It was a terrible thing to happen to anyone – but the fact that it had happened to the woman he cared for made it doubly wrong. Especially as he had no right to comfort her.
He was thoughtful as he made his way to the practice he now gave much of his time to these days. He was on call for the Rosie and also did two days a week at the much larger London Hospital, but the rest of his time was devoted to the poor of the East End.
Disturbed by the way he felt over Sister Rose’s loss and her obvious distress, Peter knew that he must see Nurse Jenny later, before she began her next shift. He did not wish to hurt her but his instincts told him that she was not in love with him, any more than he was with her – they had just enjoyed a few outings to the theatre together.
He frowned as he realised that the mistake he’d made had quite possibly lost him any chance of winning the love of the woman he wanted more than any other, but that was his fault and he must accept it. For the moment his main concern was Rose and her distress over the missing boy. Was there something he could do to help trace Danny?
In his work at the clinic he often treated the vagrants that slept under the railway arches and other places. They came to him with coughs, wounds, weak chests and a hundred other ailments, and he treated them for nothing. Some of them made him smile – especially Jessie, who walked around with her bags in an old pram. She knew everybody and everything in her world and she might have heard something.
He would ask Jessie if she’d seen anything that could help them to trace young Danny, and if she had, he would go to Constable Steve Jones – because if Matron said he was very reliable, especially when it came to children, then that would be the right thing to do.
Jenny was just about to enter the Rosie later that afternoon when she heard Peter shout to her and saw him dash across the road. He was carrying a big box of chocolates and she smiled; he was a generous companion and she had enjoyed their theatre outings – it was nice to be taken somewhere expensive and be made a fuss of by a man as good-looking as Dr Clark.
‘Jenny, have you got a minute?’ he asked sounding hesitant. ‘I have something important to say to you …’
‘Well, I’m twenty minutes early for work,’ Jenny said, ‘So we could go across the road to the café for a coffee if you like?’
‘Yes,’ he said and looked uncomfortable. ‘I think it would be good to be sitting down.’
Jenny looked at him then and she knew immediately, stopping in her tracks to face him. ‘You can tell me straight out if it’s over,’ she said looking him in the eyes. ‘I’m not a child, Peter, and I know it wasn’t a big love affair for either of us.’
She saw the relieved expression in his eyes. ‘I’m sorry, Jenny. I really am – I asked you out on impulse that first day and I shouldn’t have done. There was someone else then and there still is …’
Jenny nodded, aware of feeling a bit disappointed but not miserable or brokenhearted. ‘I think I always knew that – but I’m not going to pry. I did enjoy our outings but if there’s someone you really care for you should tell her, Peter.’
‘Thank you, Jenny. That’s kind of you – and I am sorry for letting you down.’
‘Don’t worry,’ Jenny said and smothered a sigh of regret for the outings she would m
iss, and indeed Peter, because she liked him and enjoyed his company but he wasn’t the love of her life, not even close to it. Jenny knew full well she had yet to meet someone who could make her heart beat faster or bring her to tears.
Peter offered the huge box of chocolates. ‘Please take these, Jenny. I know it doesn’t make up for what I’ve just done – but I’d like you to have them.’
Jenny hesitated and then accepted them. ‘Thank you, Dr Clark. I shall have to revert to that, shan’t I? I have enjoyed our dates, but I’m not upset, truly, and thank you for giving me some lovely evenings.’
She walked away quickly, because, suddenly, ridiculously, she wanted to cry. Not because he’d broken her heart, but because she wished she could find someone who would love her and that she could love in return. Her sister Lily and most of her friends had boyfriends or men they loved, but she seemed to be cut off from that feeling, which everyone said was wonderful.
Was there something wrong with her? Or had she yet to find the right man?
When she got up to the children’s ward, Sister Rose was just preparing to leave for the night. Her eyes went to the chocolates and there was a flash of something like hurt in them which made Jenny wonder. She’d thought once that Sister Rose and Peter Clark might get together but they hadn’t – was she a part of the reason?
‘I bought these for your friend Beattie,’ she lied on impulse. ‘I’m really sorry about what happened, Sister Rose – and if there is anything at all I can do to help please tell me.’
‘That was kind of you, Nurse Jenny,’ Sister Rose said, hesitated and then took the chocolates. ‘I thought they must be a gift from your boyfriend?’
‘Oh, no, I don’t have a boyfriend,’ Jenny said and smiled. ‘I went out a few times with one of the doctors but he really wasn’t keen on me, so that’s over.’
‘Oh, I see.’ Sister Rose frowned. ‘I’m sorry – perhaps you’ll find someone soon …’
‘One day,’ Jenny said and nodded. ‘I’d better read the notes. It’s just Nurse Anne and me tonight – have we got any new cases?’