by Cathy Sharp
‘It has been decided that they will go to a specialised reception centre, which is due to open in December. There they will be examined by a doctor; those needing medical treatment will go to hospital and the healthy ones will be sent off to an orphanage wherever we can find a space …’
Ruby felt an uneasy sense of sickness in her stomach. She’d always admired and liked Ruth Sampson, looked up to her and, for a short time, even thought she might love her – but the gloating expression in her face now made Ruby want to vomit. She contrasted it with the compassion she’d seen in Sister Beatrice’s eyes when she’d asked for her help with Emmeline. Within days the girl had been transferred to the Essex home and Sister Beatrice had assured her several times that she was doing well and seemed very happy there.
‘Do the Board of St Saviour’s know what you plan?’
‘I’m not sure, but they’ve been made a generous offer and it is to their benefit to agree …’
‘And I shall have a free hand in running the home?’
‘As much as you do now, under my direction, of course. As I said, I am pleased with the improvements in the behaviour of your girls …’
How much of that improvement was down to the visits next door? Sister Beatrice had gone out of her way to welcome the girls who were chosen to have tea there. Ruby wondered if the improvement in behaviour would long survive the knowledge that there was nothing to look forward to in future. She would probably be forced to impose even stricter rules once they had male inmates living next door. Ruby could foresee a problem with keeping the more adventurous girls from paying clandestine visits to the boys’ dormitories … and that would lead to punishment rather than treats. It wasn’t what she’d hoped would happen in the future at all …
Ruby caught her breath, feeling too stunned to answer immediately. ‘I’m to take over at the end of the year?’ she said at last, still not able to believe all she’d been told. This would devastate Sister Beatrice, because Ruby was sure she had no idea that her home would close in a few months.
‘Once it is agreed and settled. The Board of St Saviour’s haven’t actually signed yet, but my side of things is all ready to move – well, what do you say?’
Ruby was overcome and shocked. ‘What can I say but thank you?’ she said, realising that her superior was waiting. ‘I never expected this …’
‘I believe you are ready for an important promotion.’ Ruth smiled at her. ‘I thought you might like to go out for a drink and celebrate … say this evening?’
Ruby stared at her, feeling uncertain because the look in her eyes seemed to be saying all the things she’d once longed for. However, Ruth had shown a side of her that Ruby hadn’t noticed before – or perhaps it was Ruby who had changed. Perhaps her recent exchanges with Sister Beatrice had worked like water on a stone, gradually wearing away the hardened exterior she’d built up to protect herself.
Taking a grip, she drew a deep breath and lied. ‘Perhaps we could go for that drink another time,’ she said. ‘I have an appointment for this evening.’
Annoyance flickered in Ruth Sampson’s eyes. ‘Very well, just remember that what I’ve told you is completely confidential.’
‘Naturally – and thank you for telling me and for putting me forward for what is a huge promotion for me. If it happens I shall do my very best to make a success of this new venture …’
Walking a little later through grimy streets that were suddenly overcast, the sky a threatening dark grey as the first spots of rain began to fall, Ruby hurried past inviting cafés and coffee bars, needing to be alone so that she could think … try to make sense of her feelings.
Her sense of ambition, which had been her main driving force for years, seemed to have deserted her, because she knew Ruth Sampson had been annoyed that she’d turned down her invitation. Ruby had lived for her work for as long as she could remember. As soon as she’d been old enough to break away from her aunt’s domination and her uncle’s filthy habits, she’d wanted to be someone of importance – someone who was a force for good and made a difference.
And that was the trouble, Ruby realised with a little shock. When she’d encouraged Ruth Sampson to take June Miller into care and place her with foster parents she’d really thought it was for the better – and the shock of knowing that she’d been instrumental in causing the child harm had shaken her to her core. Ruby had gradually been coming round to see things more and more from Sister Beatrice’s point of view. She’d thought her a bore and old-fashioned at the start, but when Ruby really thought about it, compassion and justice never went out of fashion.
It was because of the nun’s influence that Ruby had introduced a softer regime at the probationary centre, she realised that now, and wondered at herself. Her reforms might be thought soft by some of her colleagues, but they’d worked in this instance. She was aware that in some cases the changes might be seen as weakness and some hardened types would seek to take advantage – and she wondered if she was really the right person to take charge of the new centre.
And if she did – what would happen to Sister Beatrice and her children?
Ruby frowned, because she’d given her assurance that she would say nothing and yet she knew that the secret would lodge in her throat like a stone whenever she saw the nun or one of her staff. It was unfair that Sister Beatrice should be in the dark about the future … but the decision was not hers and she could not break a confidence.
As she approached St Saviour’s, she saw Sister Beatrice emerge and look up at the sky. Ruby turned away to glance into the window of a new sandwich and snacks shop that had recently opened a few doors away. She went inside, lingering over her choice of lunch deliberately to give the nun time to walk on, because she knew the guilt she was feeling would almost certainly show on her face.
Having made her choice, she went back out into the street. Sister Beatrice had made little progress. She’d been stopped by a woman with two small children clinging to her skirts, their dirty faces turned up to look at the nun with shining confidence and trust. Sister Beatrice bent to whisper something to them, and then took a slender purse from her pocket and gave what looked to Ruby to be a florin to the mother, who clasped her hands and thanked her before they parted and she was allowed to move on.
Such a simple little act of kindness and yet it brought a huge lump to Ruby’s throat. What must it feel like to be loved like that? She’d been told the nun was worshipped almost like a saint in these shabby streets where poverty and dirt must once have been the biggest killers, but she hadn’t understood. The look in those children’s faces had told more than a thousand words, and Ruby actually felt humbled. Sister Beatrice could have little money and yet she’d spared a florin for the mother, no doubt to buy food for her children.
Ridden by guilt, she hurried inside and up to her office. There, she automatically boiled her kettle and sat to eat her meal of cheese and tomato sandwiches, and drink her coffee. Just as she’d finished there was a knock at the door and one of her staff members entered. Marla was one of the newer carers and a plump motherly type with mousey hair.
‘You’re back then,’ she said. ‘I just wanted to tell you … while you were out, we had another little visit from the police …’
‘Who was the culprit this time?’ Ruby sighed, putting the remains of her lunch in the waste bin. ‘And what did she do?’
‘Well, actually, it wasn’t something bad,’ Marla smiled at her. ‘Doris helped an old lady who fell over in the street. Apparently, she and one of the other girls got her sitting up and then the other girl ran to ask for a doctor and Doris stayed with the old lady and looked after her until the ambulance came to take her to hospital. I thought you would like to hear good news for once.’
‘Wonders will never cease,’ Ruby said and smiled. ‘Thanks, Marla – and you were quite right, I am delighted to hear good news.’
She pondered on the news after her assistant left the office. She’d thought Doris was a confirmed hard case,
but it just went to show that there might be hope for her and other girls who were on the borderline. Had she sent Doris to the remand home the girl would never have had the opportunity to help that elderly lady in need – so perhaps her new regime was working after all. It might even be that if she was given the overall command of the new centre she might be able to make a difference.
Ruby lifted her head proudly. It wouldn’t be her fault if she failed, and she wouldn’t forget what she’d learned from Sister Beatrice – that sternness needed to be tempered by compassion and kindness.
It didn’t completely ease her feelings of guilt concerning Sister Beatrice but she was coming to terms with that, managing to put it aside – after all, she had no part in these decisions …
As she entered the foyer of her apartment building that evening, Ruby was feeling depressed and restless. Seeing the bright flame of a girl’s hair as she emerged from the lift, her spirits suddenly lifted. Carla smiled as she saw her and for Ruby it was as if the gloom of the day had lightened.
‘Oh, I’m glad I’ve caught you,’ she said as Carla approached. ‘I wondered if you felt like having a drink later this evening.’
Regret came swiftly to the other girl’s face as she shook her head. ‘I wish I could, Ruby,’ she said. ‘I’ve made arrangements for this evening with a girl from work. Well, she works in the offices next door actually, and we met at a café, and both of us want to see the latest Frankenstein film. I’m sorry … perhaps we could do it another night?’
‘Oh … yes, of course,’ Ruby said and nodded, but she felt as if Carla had thrown cold water over her as she hurriedly entered the lift. It had taken her a lot of soul-searching to decide to ask her and Carla was obviously already making lots of new friends, going out and having fun. Why would she be interested in Ruby? She was younger, prettier and full of joy. Ruby felt old, grey and dull beside her and the mood of depression settled over her as she let herself into her empty flat, which felt stuffy and airless.
She hadn’t made any real friends since she’d come to work in London and sometimes she wondered if life was worthwhile, even though she was being promoted and praised at work. As she took a half-bottle of wine out of the fridge and poured a large glass she wondered what the girl looked like who was going to the pictures with Carla … and if they would hold hands in the darkness.
Sipping her wine she switched on the TV show, saw that the hit musical show, Oh Boy!, was playing and switched it off again. She didn’t feel like listening to popular music alone, even though she liked Tommy Steele’s records.
Picking up her bag, she took out some paperwork from her office and began to go over it again. Her department was due for an inspection soon and she wanted to make sure she didn’t get a black mark. Anyway, what else was there for her but work? It seemed that she would never find happiness or love …
CHAPTER 22
Jinny felt sick inside as she approached her mother’s home, noticing the way the frowsy lace curtains at the window hung limply, and the step was still stained where someone had been sick over it; it looked as if the mess had just been left for the rain to wash away. Nellie’s curtains were pristine white; her step had been stoned and scrubbed early that morning and her front door was free of the prevalent dust that came back day after day, blowing off the grimy streets.
Jinny felt ashamed of her home. Why couldn’t her mother have been more like Nellie? Her throat was tight with tears she was too proud to shed, because she felt sad that her mother’s life had been so miserable. Why had she turned to drink? Was it to blot out her loneliness?
Nellie had insisted that she visit her mother again, even though the last visit had been less than successful. ‘You’re all she’s got, love,’ she’d told Jinny when they were serving up the delicious minced chicken pie with crumbly pastry and tasty gravy that the kids had eaten every scrap of at lunchtime. ‘You’ll be safe enough while Jake is in the ’ospital …’
Jinny opened the back door and stopped in dismay at the sight that met her eyes. The kitchen looked as if a bomb had hit it, dirty crockery piled in the sink and on all the surfaces, dirty clothes on the floor and strewn over the furniture, bits of stale and mouldy food left about – and a huge rat on the table eating what looked like the remains of a pie and chips. No wonder Jake had wanted her back home! At least when Jinny was living here she’d kept it clean and tidy.
‘Ugh!’ she cried and picked up a broom standing in the corner, chasing the rodent round and round the room until it shot out of the back door. ‘Disgusting …’
Jinny started collecting the rubbish, putting it into the old tin can they’d always used for scraps in the yard, and sorting the washing into piles. It stunk of sweat and worse and must have been lying there for weeks, some of it Jake’s. She dumped her mother’s into the copper in the scullery, which was filled with soapy water that had clearly been used once. She would light a fire under it if there was any kindling. It would give the clothes a bit of a swill and they could be rinsed in the sink once the piles of dirty dishes had been dealt with, but before she could do that she would have to clear out the old range, carry the ashes into the yard and get it going.
She paused on her way back from the yard and called out to her mother, thinking that she must be upstairs. No answer came and she frowned, because it was unlikely that her mother would have gone to the pub this early. Surely she wasn’t sleeping off a drunken stupor at this hour? Jinny wouldn’t have thought she had enough money to be able to drink all day …
She got rid of the ashes and then went back into the kitchen and started making a fire with paper and wood. She’d just set a match to it when she something made her look up. There was something on the ceiling … a big dark stain that she hadn’t seen before. A shiver of apprehension went through her, and Jinny suddenly felt cold. Something was wrong here – something more than the mess and the stink of stale food.
‘Mum … are you up there?’ Jinny asked and put her foot on the bottom stair leading to the bedrooms. She was just about to go up when the kitchen door opened and Nellie’s husband walked in. ‘Bert … I’m glad you’re here. I’m sure something is wrong – look at that mark on the ceiling. What does it look like to you?’
Bert stared up at the kitchen ceiling and frowned. ‘Nellie sent me round to see if yer were all right …’ He grabbed her arm, edging her out of the way. ‘You stop ’ere, Jinny love. Let me take a look first …’
‘You think it’s blood too …’ Jinny felt scared. ‘Mum! She wouldn’t do anything silly, would she?’
‘Just wait ’ere fer me …’ Bert said and started up the narrow staircase. Jinny hesitated and then followed a few steps behind, unwilling to face whatever it was alone and yet compelled to see. It couldn’t be her mother – could it?’
Bert went into the bedroom and she heard a muffled cry. Darting forward, she saw the shape of a body lying on the floor and gave a scream of fear, but Bert’s bulk blocked her from getting nearer or seeing it properly.
‘Run to Nellie now, and tell my boy Brian to go for the police. He’s home on leave from the Army and it’s a good thing he is if there’s murder afoot. Tell ’im to get Sergeant Sallis if he can …’
‘Is it Mum?’ Jinny asked fearfully. ‘Is she dead?’
‘It ain’t yer ma, Jinny; it’s a bloke,’ Bert said, looking sick himself. ‘He’s dead and it ain’t pretty. There’s been a fight ’ere and the police need to see this for themselves. Yer ain’t touched anythin’?’
‘In the kitchen … I put some clothes in the copper and cleared out the stove, that’s all.’
‘As long as you ain’t touched anythin’ important … no bloodstained clothes or anythin’?’
‘I didn’t see anything like that …’
‘Right, get off to my missus and stay there. I’m comin’ down with yer and I’ll wait fer the police ter come …’
‘All right.’ Jinny obeyed, feeling numbed. She’d thought it might be her mother who lay there in
a pool of sticky blood but it wasn’t. Bert hadn’t told her but she’d spotted a knife lying on the floor and she thought perhaps whoever was dead had been fatally stabbed … but was it Jake or a man her mother had picked up at the pub?
What had happened in her mother’s bedroom and if she wasn’t lying there dead, where was she?
Hours later Micky took Jinny back to St Saviour’s in a car he’d borrowed from a mate. It was black and sleek and posh and at any other time she would have been curious, but she just felt numbed, shocked by the information that the body lying in her mother’s bedroom was Jake’s and his throat had been cut.
‘There was a terrific fight,’ Bert told them when he came back after the police had taken over the house. They were in charge now and they wanted Bert out of the way before they began their exhaustive search of the house, but Sergeant Sallis had told him that Jake’s murderer must have been a man.
‘It couldn’t possibly have been Mrs Hollis,’ he said. ‘Whoever killed Jake was very strong, because he put up one hell of a struggle before he died. He must have had twenty stab wounds as well as the slash that cut his throat. We think that quite possibly his killer was also wounded in the fight but was obviously able to make his escape …’
‘What about Mum?’ Jinny asked, feeling sick and close to hysteria. ‘She isn’t there, is she? Where has she gone?’
‘I wish we knew,’ Sergeant Sallis said and looked at her sadly. ‘I think she must have been in bed with someone when Jake came in – and clearly he went mad and the fight ensued. We don’t know who attacked who … but perhaps Mrs Hollis took the chance to escape while they were fighting …’
Jinny swallowed hard. ‘Why didn’t she come to you and tell you what had happened?’
Sergeant Sallis looked down at his shoes. He cleared his throat uncomfortably, then, ‘We arrested your mother three days ago for soliciting, Jinny. She was drunk and making a nuisance of herself in the pub and they asked us to do something about her …’