by Cathy Sharp
‘We have some very talented children here,’ Jill Savage told Beatrice when she greeted her. ‘I find it a pleasure to encourage them to go on with their studies.’
‘You must be dedicated, to work with the children after you finish at school?’ Beatrice observed.
‘Oh, I work at the college just three days a week, and the rest of my time is devoted to my own art, but I love encouraging children to find their inner selves and I feel that one of the best ways is through letting them paint or make what they want at the wheel. Hand modelling is also very satisfying, working the clay with your fingers.’
‘Yes, I imagine the children would think so. Halfpenny House is lucky to have you,’ Beatrice said. ‘At St Saviour’s, Angela encouraged the children to do their own projects, but to have a qualified arts teacher here as one of our staff is tremendous luck for them.’
‘Thank you, I feel as if I’m the privileged one,’ Jill replied. ‘It’s lovely to meet you. I’ve heard lots about you, from Angela and from the children. They often speak of you. I think when they came to you it was the first time they’d known kindness and the safety of a loving home. A lot of them wish you could be here to see their work.’
‘My nurses and I do all we can to make them feel safe and happy at St Saviour’s, but some have suffered too much in their young lives and I worry about them when they move on.’
‘I think most of them are happy here,’ Jill replied. ‘We’ve had one or two run away, back to London and what they know – but the majority are willing to embrace a new way of life. However, after some adjustments to the staff and the new art department, I believe things are better here than they were at the start …’ She lowered her voice so that only Beatrice could hear. ‘I believe it is because Angela has had more time to oversee things here. I’ve noticed changes since I first came … projects for the children, the introduction of stars to earn treats. All these things help the kids to feel they have something to look forward to.’
Beatrice nodded. She’d met Mrs Mellors since coming to the home and wasn’t impressed, because although well-meaning, the woman seemed vague about her hopes for the children. Angela would do much better and there was a part of Beatrice that very much wanted to be a part of it with her.
‘Archie ran away two years ago, because I wasn’t able to send his sister down with him. I’ve tried to make sure that the children who transfer now are ready and willing for a new way of life … but I’ve been glad to see them settled here this afternoon.’
Beatrice enjoyed meeting the staff, talking to Mrs Mellors about the new life she’d planned, which seemed of far more interest to her than her work at the home, and having tea with the children. Mark Adderbury didn’t come to the little party at the school, but that evening he took them all out for a pleasant meal. When Beatrice retired for the night she was feeling tired, but surprisingly free of pain. Perhaps it was the fresh air or the holiday feel the day had held amongst old friends.
She thought for a while about Angela’s offer, wondering whether she was too old to make such a move; if she was forced to leave St Saviour’s, it would otherwise be a choice between returning to the convent where she’d taken her vows or looking for another nursing post – which she was unlikely to find at her age. Yet was she strong enough to take on the charge of such a large home? Perhaps she needed to visit the convent, spend some time in prayer and speak with the Mother Superior.
‘I can’t believe Sister Beatrice is actually considering making the move here,’ Mark said when Angela told him in the privacy of their bedroom later that night. He gave her a quizzical look, his brows raised. ‘The post of Superintendent was offered to you, Angela – are you sure you wouldn’t prefer to be in charge?’
‘Perhaps, if I didn’t have the twins and you,’ Angela said and looked at him lovingly. ‘Yet I think even then I should feel better sharing the job with Sister Beatrice. I know we’ve agreed the twins are off to boarding school in the autumn, and at seven years of age they’re looking forward to it – but I shall want to be free to go down for special days – and to take them away for holidays when they are at home. If I were in sole charge it might be too much – and besides, I always thought it was a two-woman job.’
‘Yes, perhaps it is …’ He released his tie and threw it over a chair. ‘I’ve been told that most of the Board are ready to sign the agreement for the takeover. Apparently, they’ve agreed to keep St Saviour’s as a reception centre for kids off the street until the new centres for street kids are up and running …’
‘What about the disturbed girls? Will they be allowed to mix with the orphans? Sister Beatrice told me that she and Ruby had come to some sort of an arrangement and they’ve been having their tea at St Saviour’s on Saturdays and Sundays for a couple of weeks now and they’re thinking of extending it to every day … I think she hoped to see some relaxing of their strict rules. Are they going to integrate the girls and the orphans completely when they take over, do you think?’
‘We haven’t been informed of their plans,’ Mark said. ‘It may even be that they move their girls elsewhere in time and sell to the developers.’
‘We mustn’t tell Sister Beatrice. She’d hoped that would never happen.’
‘As we did, Angela …’ Mark sighed and eased his shoulders. ‘Did you think Sister Beatrice looked older? I have an idea she had some difficulty getting out of the back of the car when we returned from the restaurant …’
‘I hadn’t noticed.’ Angela looked thoughtful. ‘I’ve never known for sure how old she is, but I think she must be sixtyish …’
‘I imagine she’s not far off,’ Mark agreed. ‘A move to the country might be a good change for her, darling – if you could convince her of it.’
‘Well, I’ve put the idea to her,’ Angela said and smiled. ‘She will decide in her own way and her own time. Now, do you want to tell me what sort of a day you’ve had …?’
CHAPTER 13
Rose was smiling as she replaced the receiver that morning. Nick had telephoned and asked her to go for a drink that evening.
‘We could have a drink – and something to eat in the bar if you like,’ he’d said. ‘I’ve been wanting to see you again, Rose – and I could pick you up whenever you’re off duty …’
‘I don’t get off until nine this evening,’ she’d told him, ‘but I’d like to go just for a drink. It’s a bit too late for a meal, but it will be nice just to have a chat and a drink. I really enjoyed myself the other night …’
‘Good. I’ll look forward to it,’ Nick said. ‘We had a lovely evening at that restaurant, didn’t we?’ She could hear the pleasure in his voice. ‘I might be able to get tickets for a West End show one night – if you can tell me when you’re free …’
‘That would be a treat,’ Rose said. ‘I’ll see you this evening then – and thanks for asking …’
‘I’m looking forward to it,’ Nick said.
Rose felt as if she’d got a spring in her step as she left the nurses’ home and crossed the small back garden to the orphanage. As she approached, a boy came running out of the back door and cannoned into her, accidentally kicking her shin.
‘What’s all this about then, Tom?’ she asked and gave him a severe look. ‘You know what Sister says about running …’
‘Don’t care. I ’ate yer all …’ he said and brushed past her, going back into the home and tearing off through the hall.
Rose stared after him in exasperation. What was the matter with him now? She recalled that Sister had intended to send him down to Halfpenny House, but they’d decided he needed a little longer here. He could certainly do with a bit more discipline. His shoe had scraped her ankle and if she’d been wearing nylons he would have laddered them.
She debated whether to tell Sister Beatrice, but decided against it. Rose wasn’t one to tell tales, but she would certainly discipline him herself if she caught him behaving so recklessly again … Glancing at the little watch pinned to her unifor
m, she saw that it was late. Wendy would be ready to leave and Rose needed a cup of tea before she started work.
As she reached the staff room Rose saw that Sandra had the cash box out on the table and there was a small notebook beside it.
‘I’ve counted the money and made a note of the total,’ she told Rose. ‘If everyone gives me their two shillings a week I’ll keep a check on it for you and make sure it’s right – we just have to be certain we leave a note to say if we take money to buy supplies.’
‘Ah good,’ Rose nodded. ‘I didn’t like asking, Sandra, because I know you have enough work to do but I think we’ve been a bit careless in the past.’
‘Yes …’ Sandra hesitated, then, ‘I’m guilty of that myself. Sister put me in charge of the children’s treat money and I keep it in my desk – well, just between you and me, Rose, I think someone took two pounds from it yesterday. I put five pounds in, I know I did, but when I checked just now there was only four … and I’d got twenty-five shillings in for a start …’
‘Oh, Sandra, that’s awful.’ Rose was shocked. ‘It means we have a thief at St Saviour’s …’
‘Well, I suppose … but how can I be certain I put all the five pounds in? I’ve made the difference up myself, because I can’t let the children go without their trip to the zoo next Saturday …’
‘Yes, but it isn’t right that you should have to do it …’ Rose frowned. ‘You must keep your drawer locked, Sandra, because you sometimes have a lot more money than we ever have in the petty cash box.’
‘Yes, I do and I shall in future,’ Sandra said and put the cash box away. ‘Now we know exactly what we’ve got … and perhaps it will turn out to be just a mistake …’
‘Let’s hope so,’ Rose said. ‘Otherwise we shall have to start looking for the thief …’
‘There’s someone here to see you,’ Mrs Davies said that morning, frowning at Jinny as she emerged from the scullery, still wiping her hands. ‘Please don’t be long, because we have a lot of work to do today.’
‘Yes, Mrs Davies.’ Jinny looked towards the door of the kitchen, where Micky was hovering and looking uncomfortable. Clearly Mrs Davies had shown her disapproval over him coming here. ‘Micky? Was there something wrong?’ She couldn’t imagine he would make a social visit at this hour of the morning.
‘It’s Nellie,’ he said, looking grim. ‘She’s been beaten and I took her to the doctor. She’s had an X-ray on her arm but it isn’t broken, just badly bruised – and she has bruises on her face, probably elsewhere but she wouldn’t tell me it all …’
‘Nellie is injured? How did it happen – did she have a fall or what?’
Micky glanced towards Mrs Davies and lowered his voice. ‘She won’t say but I’ve been told it was Jake. He went for her as she walked back from the market and left her lying on the ground, her face battered …’
‘No!’ Jinny felt sick and for a moment the room seemed to whirl. ‘He’s evil, Micky. Have Nellie or Bert been to the police?’
‘She refused to go, says he’ll only deny it and then he’ll come after you … and she doesn’t want Bert to know. He’s got a right temper, as you probably know, though he never uses his fists on Nellie or his kids, and if he guessed what Jake had done I think he might kill him. Nellie is frightened he would get into trouble and lose his job at the Docks, because he was warned when he went for one of the blokes he was working with – Bert was angry because Sam Bullock had been bullying one of the younger lads, but of course he didn’t say anything, because Sam could have been sacked. So he took the fine and kept his mouth shut – but if he got into trouble with the cops he’d be out of a job sharpish.’
‘That’s so unfair! Bert is a decent man. Nellie should tell someone, because Jake is a devil and he’ll hurt her again if she doesn’t report him,’ Jinny said. ‘He followed me home one night and knows where I live so he could come after me at any time. I’ll go and see her this evening, Micky. I would go now, but Elsa phoned in sick so we’re busy all day.’
‘What time do you get off?’
‘About half-past seven – why do you ask?’
‘I’ll be fetchin’ yer,’ he said gruffly. ‘If Jake is on the rampage that’s all he’s waiting for. If he’s done that to Nellie, can you imagine what he’d do to you? He’s a bad-tempered brute, especially when he’s had a few drinks …’
Jinny hesitated, then, hearing an audible sniff from Mrs Davies, she nodded her agreement. ‘All right, we’ll talk tonight. I’ve got to get on …’
They’d been working flat out all morning, but lunch was over and the dishes washed and put away. Mrs Davies said she was going to her room to put her feet up for an hour.
‘I’ll be back in time to help with preparing the tea and supper menu,’ she told Jinny. ‘Finish tidying up and then put your feet up for a few minutes, we’ve done plenty today …’
‘I need to fetch the dirty cups from the staff room,’ Jinny said. ‘I’ll check they’ve got tea and coffee and sugar supplies while I’m there … and take them some biscuits up.’
‘They are supposed to supply their own biscuits,’ Mrs Davies sniffed. ‘They’ve got a petty cash box there, but I’ll bet it’s full of money. All they seem to do these days is cadge biscuits and cakes from us.’
‘Can you blame them when your biscuits and cakes are so much nicer?’ Jinny said and smiled but Mrs Davies only frowned and went off for a rest, her shoulders stiff with disapproval. Perhaps she knew that Rose and Wendy had both told Jinny that they loved the biscuits that Nancy had shown her how to make. Mrs Davies normally left her to get on with the steamed puddings and cakes, saying that she didn’t approve of spoiling the children with treats all the time.
After Jinny had drunk the tea she’d made for herself, she picked up a large wooden tray and went up in the lift to the staff rest room. As she approached, she saw one of the boys running down the corridor in the opposite direction. The door of the staff room was partially open. Entering, she put down her tray and started to collect the dirty cups, which had been left on side ledges and tables, and one on the arm of a chair. She was frowning as she set the tray down to check the sugar tin and the caddy where the fragrant tea was stored, and then the biscuit tin … and then her eye fell on the drawer in the table and she noticed that it was slightly open. Inside, she could see a black tin cash box and knew it must contain the petty cash for buying biscuits. All the staff paid a small amount in, because Mrs Davies had complained that her budget for the kitchen was not enough to cover supplying fancy biscuits and cakes for the staff’s morning and afternoon break. Although Kelly had told Jinny that when Muriel was their cook biscuits and cakes had been supplied, as well as sandwiches for anyone who asked, it seemed that Mrs Davies had her own rules. She was mean with the food for the kids too, grumbling about the amount of food they got through in a week.
Jinny knew that some of the staff had complained about the change; they’d never paid for things like that before and considered meals and drinks as a part of their wages, but Wendy had put in two shillings to start it and Rose followed so the others decided to add their mite, but since Jinny arrived, she’d been filling their biscuit tin for them whenever she made a batch of something nice for the kids. No one had mentioned it to Mrs Davies and the kitchen budget was still bearing up. The truth of it was that their cook was a bit of a misery and in Jinny’s opinion she simply didn’t want the extra work. Now that Jinny had taken over so much of the cooking, as well as the cleaning, she didn’t seem as bothered.
Jinny left the drawer as she found it. An unpleasant suspicion lingered at the back of her mind as she took her heavy tray and carried it back to the kitchen to wash, dry and replace the cups in the staff room. When she returned with fresh crockery, she noticed that the drawer was now closed. Wondering who had been in since her departure and if they’d checked the cash tin, Jinny set out the clean cups and filled the tin with some biscuits she’d made that morning. She would make more and some of Nell
ie’s rock cakes when she’d finished here and also rhubarb crumble for the kids to have with custard for supper.
Jinny washed everything after she’d finished, because it was time to start on the sandwiches and the bread and butter with homemade jam that was a perennial favourite with kids. Nancy had told her that she learned how to make it from Muriel, their previous cook, and Jinny wished that she was still around so that she could show her how to cook some of the kids’ favourites. Nancy gave her cooking lessons whenever she had time, but she was very busy with her other work and Jinny wanted to know so much more.
‘Oh, you’ve started,’ Mrs Davies said when she arrived at just after four. ‘I fell asleep and didn’t wake until a few minutes ago. I see you’ve made cake and biscuits – and what’s that you have in the oven?’
‘I’m making rhubarb crumble,’ Jinny said. ‘I can just put it under the grill to warm it through again for supper and the custard won’t take long to make at all …’
‘I’ve told you before, it isn’t necessary to go to that trouble,’ Mrs Davies grumbled. ‘Biscuits are plenty for supper with a hot drink. They will all get fat and lazy if you overfeed them …’
‘They enjoy something warm,’ Jinny defended herself. ‘I don’t mind making it – and the rhubarb wouldn’t last until tomorrow. It needed using up or we should’ve had to throw it out.’