by Cathy Sharp
‘What did you give my children yesterday?’ Sister Beatrice demanded of the rather apprehensive-looking cook. ‘Six of them have been sick overnight and I believe it to be the result of food that has either been undercooked or not kept properly and on the turn.’
‘They had a nice beef pie with mashed potatoes and greens or a piece of fish cooked in the pan with chips …’ Mrs Davies said. ‘I got that fresh from the fishmonger on Saturday and kept it cool. I don’t think you can blame me for their sickness …’
‘But I told you …’ Elsa blurted out and then stopped as Mrs Davies glared at her.
Sister Beatrice looked from one to the other, her gaze settling on Elsa. ‘What did you tell Mrs Davies, Elsa?’
‘She’ll kill me if I tell yer …’
‘And I shall dismiss you if you do not. Tell me the truth and I promise you will not be harmed.’
‘She’s a liar …’ Mrs Davies burst out but was silenced by a look from Sister.
‘I told her that fish smelled off,’ Elsa said. ‘It made me feel sick just to touch it … slimy and green it were in one bit. I cut that bit off but it weren’t fit …’
‘That is ridiculous! It was perfectly fresh I tell you.’ Mrs Davies took a menacing step towards the girl but Jinny stepped forward, taking her arm and leading Elsa through into the scullery.
‘Let them get on with it …’ she whispered but the older women had retired to Mrs Davies’ office and they couldn’t hear what happened next.
Sister Beatrice poked her head through the open door of the scullery a few minutes later. ‘Mrs Davies says that you didn’t tell her the fish was off, Elsa. Do you give me your word that it was and that you did inform her?’
‘Yes, Sister,’ Elsa said. ‘I swear it on me mother’s life.’
‘It didn’t look fresh to me when it was delivered on Saturday afternoon,’ Jinny said. ‘I told Mrs Davies when I put it in the pantry that it wouldn’t last …’
‘I see …’ Sister Beatrice nodded at them. ‘Very well, I shall accept your word, Elsa.’
Sister departed and there was silence. When they ventured back into the kitchen some minutes passed before the cook appeared wearing her coat and carrying her purse and basket.
‘You …’ she said, looking at Jinny. ‘Have you been spying on me? Did you take a notebook from my office? If I find out it was either of you two I’ll make your lives a misery …’
‘I told you, Sandra took a book to Sister Beatrice …’ Jinny said.
‘This was another book … somewhere else. I know you’ve been spying on me. Did you sneak in there and take the book?’ Mrs Davies’ eyes narrowed. ‘If you took it in the hope of getting me sacked you’ll be sorry – now give it to me and I’ll say no more about it …’
‘I’ve not touched your book and nor has Elsa,’ Jinny said hotly. ‘We’re not thieves and we shan’t be accused of it.’
‘Well, it’s too late now,’ Mrs Davies muttered. ‘But I’ll get back at you if I find out which one of you it was …’
She glared at them, her anger making her cheeks red. Neither of the girls answered her and she nodded, as if accepting that they would not speak.
‘I’m going shopping,’ she said. ‘You’ve got the sausages and the lamb to make a casserole. I suppose you are capable of preparing a simple meal between you while I’ve gone …’
Elsa pulled a face behind her back as she went out with a flounce in her step. ‘Old bitch! I’d rather do it all than ’ave ’er breathin’ fire down me neck all the time … I’m leavin’ as soon as I can find another job. I ain’t staying ’ere to be accused of pinchin’ things.’
‘We didn’t take her book but I did see one of the kids in her office the other day. He was kneeling down on the floor, looking at somethin’ I couldn’t see …’
‘Who was it?’ Elsa demanded. ‘You didn’t tell ’er – why?’
‘I wouldn’t get anyone into trouble when I don’t know why he was there …’
‘I’d like to get ’er in trouble … the miserable old cow.’
‘So would I,’ Jinny said. ‘I reckon she ought to get the sack for feedin’ those kids food like that – bad fish would make anyone ill and some of these kids are vulnerable. Usually she won’t buy fish, says it’s too expensive, but I bet she got that cheap because the fishmonger knew it was goin’ off …’
‘I’m glad I stuck to a paste sandwich,’ Elsa said. ‘The meat was tough an’ all. I reckon someone ought to tell Sister Beatrice what she makes us serve up half the time ain’t right …’
‘I think some if it is just down to buying the wrong cuts of meat; you need to cook it slow if you buy the cheaper stuff, but she just turns the oven up high and it goes tough,’ Jinny said. ‘But you’re right, someone should tell Sister Beatrice …’
Jinny frowned as she started to prepare the children’s lunch. The boy she’d seen coming from Mrs Davies’ office was the same one she’d seen coming from the staff room the day she’d seen the drawer with the cash box open. Could Tom be a thief? What had he been doing in the cook’s office? But why would he take a notebook? Money for sweets was one thing … but why steal a notebook? What was he trying to find?
The following morning, Jinny searched the pantry shelves looking for something to give the children for their lunch. She frowned, because there was no meat of any kind, very few vegetables and they were short of almost everything they needed. She glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall. If Mrs Davies didn’t show up with the shopping soon, she didn’t know what she could give the children when they came in for their meal. The cook hadn’t been back since the previous morning and that was strange. It looked as if Jinny would have to make omelettes with chips and tins of peas for want of anything better. Perhaps that wouldn’t be too bad, she thought as she began to assemble what they had on the table. She had some tomatoes which she could slice on the plates and that would make it look nice, but making cheese and egg dishes was time-consuming – unless she did some flans as well. And it looked as if there was a tin of Spam which could either be sliced cold or made into fritters.…
‘What is this?’ a voice asked as Jinny began getting tins and cutlery out ready. ‘What has Mrs Davies asked you to prepare for lunch today?’
‘Sister!’ Jinny nearly jumped out of her skin as she turned to look at her unexpected visitor. ‘Mrs Davies isn’t here. I haven’t seen her today. She said she was going shoppin’ yesterday morning after your visit and she hasn’t been in since – and all I can find is eggs, cheese, tomatoes, potatoes – oh, and a tin of Spam.’
‘Are you sure there is no fresh meat? I seem to recall we normally have chops for the children on a Thursday?’
‘We haven’t had chops for weeks now,’ Jinny said, frowning as she thought back. ‘We mostly have scrag end of lamb in a casserole with vegetables or offal made into soups and pies – we have casserole four or five days a week …’
‘That was not my understanding. I was told you used the best cuts of meat and fresh vegetables from the shops. Mrs Davies assured me that she always buys the freshest food she can …’
‘Elsa told me you used to have decent food, but for the past few weeks we’ve only had rubbish stuff to cook,’ Jinny said. ‘I told Mrs Davies she ought to change her supplier when the meat was all fat and gristle but she said she knew what she was doin’ and it was all the money would run to …’
‘I know the budget is tight but we’ve always given the children good food. I shall have to get to the bottom of this …’ Sister looked upset.
‘Mrs Davies won’t let me do the shoppin’. I’m sure I could get better …’ Jinny followed her towards the office. She opened the door, leaving it for Jinny to follow inside. The left-hand drawer of Mrs Davies’ desk was left open and a cash box stood on the leather top. Its lid was thrown back and it was empty. Every other drawer had been left open and most were empty. ‘Mrs Davies kept that box in a locked drawer …’ Jinny faltered as Sister turned to lo
ok at her. Sickness rose in her throat as she saw disbelief and anger in the older woman’s eyes, and her hand went to her mouth as she fought to control her horror. ‘I didn’t take it … I swear I didn’t …’
Sister frowned, seeming to become aware of her. ‘I am not accusing you – but it seems clear that something is amiss here. There should be the best part of a month’s kitchen allowance here, because I gave her the money for September only yesterday – and if there is no food in the pantry …’
‘I can make lunch just about,’ Jinny said, raising her head. She wasn’t guilty and she wouldn’t let anyone make her feel that way. ‘But there isn’t much for tea. If I had some money I could go to the market and buy enough for a day or so … just until Mrs Davies comes back and explains …’
‘I shall hope that she may do so,’ Sister Beatrice said sternly. ‘There has been mismanagement here at the very least and perhaps much more … If you come to my office after you’ve finished here at lunchtime I shall give you some money to buy us food. I hope I can trust you to behave responsibly, Jinny?’
‘I swear to you on my life I won’t cheat you,’ Jinny said dramatically and saw a smile flicker in Sister’s eyes. ‘I’d rather die than betray your trust, Sister.’
‘Well, I don’t think we need to imagine anything so terrible,’ Sister said solemnly. ‘You’d better produce as good a meal as you can for now – and I’ll visit you later to discuss the food for the next day or so …’
Jinny watched her leave, and then called to Elsa to start peeling potatoes for their chips. She decided that she would do Spam fritters with the chips, and cheese flans with tomatoes, and then a few omelettes. It wasn’t much choice for the kids, but it would be tasty and was better than the bread and scrape some kids had to make do with …
To Jinny’s surprise, the kids lined up for seconds and in one case third helpings. She’d had time to make some treacle tarts with extra pastry left over from the flans, and a bit of custard, though no other sweets were on offer, but the kids loved the chips, tinned peas and Spam fritters. Some of them had looked doubtful over the egg and cheese flans, but then she’d seen the same kids coming back and asking for more.
‘I ain’t tasted pastry like that,’ Tom said and grinned at her. ‘I reckon you made that, Jinny. This is nice fer a change … much better than them ’orrible casseroles …’
‘I’m glad you liked it,’ she said and smiled as she saw the last piece of flan snatched from under her nose. ‘We’ll have to see what we can do another day …’
‘Cor, that was lovely,’ Elsa said when they were washing up. ‘Much better than old Grizzle Guts’ pies. I real enjoyed that, Jinny. You ought to be the cook ’ere, not ’er.’
‘They would never give me the job,’ Jinny said and laughed. ‘’Sides, that was easy. Nellie taught me how to make pastry, and chips are easy, though a lot of hard work for you. She’d be a lovely cook for us, but they wouldn’t ask her – she doesn’t have any certificates or any of that stuff. She’s just a good plain cook.’
‘That’s the best sort,’ Elsa said. ‘Muriel never made anythin’ fancy but it were all lovely – at least that’s what Nancy said. She did some of the cooking before you came but she didn’t get on with Mrs Davies very well …’
‘Nancy taught me some of the things I know,’ Jinny agreed. ‘I expect she’ll take over until Mrs Davies gets back.’
‘Do you think Nancy can help? She hurt her knee the other day and it’s all she can do to hobble downstairs,’ Elsa said. ‘I reckon Mrs Davies has scarpered with the kitchen cash …’
‘You shouldn’t say that,’ Jinny said. ‘She probably took it to buy more food. She’ll turn up soon and wonder what all the fuss was about …’
But they finished the clearing up and there was no sign of Mrs Davies. Jinny got ready and went up to Sister Beatrice’s office, her stomach fluttering with nerves.
She knocked and waited and then Sandra came out, looking upset. She forced a smile for Jinny. ‘Sister will see you now,’ she said. ‘Don’t look so worried. No one thinks you did anything wrong. I think we know who to blame for all this …’
Sandra walked off without explaining and Jinny went into Sister’s office. The last time she’d been here was the day she’d been taken on as kitchen helper. Sister was looking grave but she raised her head and her expression softened.
‘I’ve heard the children enjoyed their meal today and with what you had you did very well, Jinny. Do you think you can buy us enough food to last the week with this?’ She held up six pound notes. ‘It is all I have available at the moment. Our budget is always tight and I’m going to have to ask the Board for more money to last us the month …’
‘I’ll do my very best, Sister,’ Jinny said. ‘Have you any instructions as to what I should buy?’
‘I believe I must leave you to see what you can get – but do your best for the children. In all my years here we have never had anything like this …’
‘Has … Mrs Davies gone for good, Sister?’
‘I believe so,’ Sister said. ‘Sandra has just told me that Sergeant Sallis rang her a few minutes ago. It seems that Mrs Davies had a son who was in prison for violent robbery and murder – and he broke out of prison three weeks ago. They rang to tell us to be careful if he came here, because he is dangerous and can be violent. I suspect that she may have taken the money for him, though whether she was under threat or not I cannot say … and we must not assume that she did take it, though it would appear the most likely explanation.’
‘Oh, Sister …’ Jinny’s throat felt tight. ‘If her son made her take it … she must have been frightened.’
‘Perhaps,’ Sister nodded. ‘We shall give her the benefit of the doubt until we know more. Very well, Jinny. For the moment you will be in charge of the kitchen. Nancy will help as much as she can, but she has a great deal to do, and her leg is still sore, as you are aware. Run along now and do your very best for us …’
‘Yes, Sister …’
Jinny tucked the money into her jacket pocket. Remembering the loss she’d almost suffered in the market once before, she was determined to take good care of Sister’s money. As she left St Saviour’s and walked through the grimy streets, she was thinking how quickly things had changed in a few days. It looked as if Mrs Davies might have been the thief all along, although Sister was right, they couldn’t be sure. Someone else could have gone to the office and taken it. Yet she seemed the likely culprit. Perhaps her son had demanded money from her and she’d done it because he’d made her – and yet Jinny suspected she’d been taking the home’s money for some time in one way or another …
Jinny looked proudly at the produce that filled the long pine table and overflowed on to the floor. Boxes of fruit, some of it soft and only fit for jam and puddings, some of it just ready to eat; carrots and potatoes, greens and suedes, also a large uncooked ham, a side of bacon, eggs in two long cardboard boxes, a large slab of cheese, sausages, a big parcel of pork chops and three pounds of best stewing beef wrapped in white paper. There were three large fresh loaves, six pots of strawberry jam, three of marmalade and two of Marmite for adding to soups and making hot drinks; Jinny liked it spread on toast, but most kids hated it, though added to a casserole it would make it tasty and do them good. Bags of flour and dried fruit, two slabs of butter, margarine and lard for cooking, also two catering-sized tins of corned beef and one of Spam, milk, custard powder and a large blue bag of sugar occupied the rest of the surfaces.
Sister’s six pounds had gone much further than she could ever have dreamed and that was because when Micky spread the word that someone had done the children’s home down, the traders had come forward with gifts and cheap offers.
‘You come to me every week, Jinny girl,’ one of them told her with a grin. ‘I’ll always find yer some stuff for them kids – and them nurses. Angels they is and so I’ve always said. Angels them girls wot look after them kids. My cousin’s lad went there durin’ the
war while he was away and he says they’re wonderful. You take that lot fer nuthin’ terday and next time I’ll let yer ’ave whatever yer want at ’alf price …’
Jinny had felt overwhelmed. She had far more than she could carry home but Micky had borrowed a small van and brought her back, carrying it all into the kitchen.
‘I can’t thank you enough,’ Jinny told him. ‘I can feed the children now until Sister Beatrice gets more money for us …’
‘Damned shame, stealin’ from orphan kids,’ Micky said. ‘No one does that round ’ere. The ol’ bitch ought to be ashamed of ’erself.’
‘Yes, but perhaps she couldn’t help it,’ Jinny defended the cook though she didn’t know why. Mrs Davies had hit her and she’d never appreciated anything she or Elsa did, always grumbling or finding fault. ‘We don’t know for sure it was her, Micky.’
‘Stands to reason,’ he said. ‘What did she clear orf for otherwise?
‘Well, it looks that way – but Sister says we have to give her the benefit of the doubt until we know for certain.’
‘Sister’s a nun so she’s bound to say it – but you take my word. It was that cook and it’s best she’s gone out of the way …’
‘All right – oh, Micky, you’d better go, someone is coming …’
Micky nipped out the back door sharpish as Sister arrived. She looked round the kitchen, an expression of bewilderment on her face.
‘You couldn’t have got all that for what I gave you, Jinny …’
‘I’ve got ten shillings left over,’ Jinny told her and smiled proudly. ‘My friends down the market rallied round. That soft fruit is only good for making jam and puddings but the rest of it is really fresh and nice. We’ll manage until Monday now. We’ve got plenty to go round …’
Sister Beatrice shook her head. ‘The children haven’t had all this fruit since Angela left. It will do them the world of good, however you present it.’ She smiled and nodded as she looked into the fridge and saw the parcels of fresh meat. ‘You’ve done very well, Jinny. Please keep the change for another day. If you can produce miracles like this perhaps you should be in charge of the kitchen budget in future.’