Forgotten Children

by Cathy Sharp

  ‘What do you reckon?’ Bob was saying to her. She blinked, because she hadn’t heard him. ‘Would you come to the flicks with me one night? I’m home for five more days yet.’

  ‘Yes, yes, I should like to come,’ Alice said and smiled at him. ‘You’re not enjoying this dance much, are you? Why don’t we go for a walk? We could get some chips on the way – if you want to walk me home?’

  Bob grinned at her, looking pleased. ‘Yeah, I’d like that fine, Alice. I can call for you on Tuesday evening if you like and we’ll go to the Regal – or the Odeon if you prefer?’

  ‘The Odeon is the posh one with comfy seats,’ Alice said. ‘I like that best, if there’s anything good on.’ She stood up. ‘I’ll get my coat. Wait for me by the door. I shan’t be long.’

  ‘All right, Alice.’

  Bob went to have a word with her cousin, probably to tell him he would see her safely home. Alice said goodbye to Sally but Michelle was dancing so she just nodded in her direction on her way to fetch her jacket. As she emerged from the cloakroom, a man moved in front of her and she found herself staring up at Jack Shaw.

  ‘Not goin’ already, Alice? You ain’t danced with me yet.’

  ‘And I don’t intend to,’ she’d said. ‘I’m with someone.’

  ‘Yeah, I saw – the Army bloke.’ Jack frowned. ‘You don’t want to hang around with that lot, Alice, love. He’ll only go off and leave yer – watch out he don’t give you one up the spout.’

  Alice’s hand itched to slap him, but she controlled her temper. ‘One of these days I’ll wipe the smile off your face, Jack Shaw,’ she said and tried to move past him, but he caught her arm. ‘Leave me be.’

  ‘Come on, just one little dance …’

  ‘No! Just get out of my way or I’ll hit you.’

  ‘I wouldn’t try that here if I were you. I might have to give you a slap just to show me mates who’s the boss.’

  ‘Get off me then …’

  ‘Why don’t you leave her alone?’ Michelle had come up to them. ‘Alice doesn’t want anything to do with the likes of you, Jack Shaw. We all know what you are.’ She rounded on Alice, concern in her eyes. ‘Don’t be taken in by him, love. I know his sort and he’s rotten through and through.’

  ‘Mind your own business, bitch,’ Jack said and grabbed her arm.

  ‘I don’t allow scum like you to touch me,’ Michelle said and wrenched away from him.

  Seeing that Jack was about to hit her, Alice pushed in front of them, glaring at her colleague. ‘Stay out of this,’ she warned. ‘It’s none of your business …’

  ‘Too right,’ Jack leered at Michelle. ‘Alice is going home with me, aren’t you, love?’

  ‘You’ve been drinking,’ Alice accused him. ‘Let me alone, Jack. Just go away and leave us both alone …’

  ‘Something wrong, Alice?’

  She drew a deep breath and looked into the face of the man she’d thought of as being a quiet meek sort. Bob’s eyes had gone cold and hard and the way he was looking at Jack spelled trouble.

  ‘What are you gonna do if there is?’ Jack challenged.

  ‘Come outside and I’ll show you,’ Bob said. ‘Where I come from we know better than to use violence in front of a lady.’

  For a moment fury blazed in Jack’s eyes and Alice feared he would go for Bob, but then he grinned in a mocking way and stood back.

  ‘I should keep hold of this one, Alice love,’ he said. ‘Lady now, is it? Well, well, the Cobbs are goin’ up in the world.’

  He turned and walked off. Alice thought Bob would go after him, and caught his sleeve. ‘He isn’t worth it, Bob. His sort would pull a knife without giving it a thought. Please, I don’t want you to be hurt.’

  ‘It might not be me that gets hurt. They teach you a few tricks in the Army – like how to deal with bullies. But I don’t want to spoil our evening. He will keep for another time.’

  ‘Yes,’ Alice said and tugged at his arm. ‘Come on, Bob, let’s go. I’m looking forward to a bag of chips – and we can walk by the river and talk for a while …’

  ‘I’m glad I came tonight now,’ Bob said. ‘I didn’t want to when Eric suggested it, but you’re a nice girl, Alice. I’d like to be your friend.’ The look in his eyes made her think that perhaps he wanted more than mere friendship.

  Alice had murmured something encouraging. She liked Bob and wouldn’t have minded going out with him sometimes, but he didn’t make her heart thump the way Jack Shaw did. Sometimes, she dreamed about Jack and he was different; he had a steady job and he cared about her, wanted her to be his wife – but that was a load of rubbish. Her father had told her what he did for his wages and Alice didn’t want anything to do with a man who went round with one of the big crime bosses extorting money out of restaurant and club owners.

  Jack worked for one of the most feared men in the East End of London. Alice wished she didn’t know, because she would have liked him if he’d chosen to work on the Docks or gone into the armed forces.

  ‘On your own tonight then?’

  Alice jumped; because of her mind wandering back to the dance as she walked through the dim streets, she hadn’t seen him coming. Jack had sneaked up behind her, and now he grabbed her arm and swung her round to face him, gripping her so tightly that she almost screamed out.

  ‘What do you think you’re doing?’

  ‘Making sure you know whose girl you are,’ Jack replied, looking down at her angrily. ‘I’m warning you, Alice. Stay away from that Army bloke – unless you want me to teach him a lesson?’

  ‘You wouldn’t!’ Alice was shocked, because he looked so menacing and it terrified her. ‘Why would you do something like that over me? There’s lots of girls prettier than me, better figures too. Why pick on me?’

  ‘Because I picked you out long ago,’ Jack said, but he was grinning now, eyes bright with laughter. ‘I don’t mind you not being one of those skinny girls, Alice, love. I like a good armful, me. You’re mine and I’m going to have you one of these days so make up your mind to it. I’m warning you to stay away from other men – especially Army boys. I don’t like them, see. If I discover you’ve been seeing him, he’ll be the one who pays. I shan’t hurt you, Alice, because I like you. Just remember you belong to me and everything will be all right.’

  ‘I don’t want to be yours,’ Alice said. ‘My father says you’re bad and I believe him. I’ve seen the girls running after you, and I’m not one of them – and never will …’

  Alice never got to finish, because Jack had her tight against him, his breath hot on her face as he gazed down at her. Something in his eyes sent a thrill of excitement through her, and she could feel the hardness of his arousal through her thin coat and dress. For a moment she couldn’t breathe and then his mouth covered hers in a kiss that sent her senses swooning. For the life of her she couldn’t prevent her arms going up about his neck as she clung on, as if she would fall if he let go. His face lit with triumph as he released her.

  ‘Now you know you’re mine …’ he began, but incensed by his behaviour, Alice hit him round the ear as hard as she could. For a moment he looked as if he might throttle her, but then he laughed.

  ‘I like a bit of spirit in a girl, Alice. I’ll let you get away with that one – but if you keep seeing that Army bloke you’ll be sorry …’

  Alice stood stock still, trying to catch her breath as he walked away. Her head was in a whirl and she didn’t know what to think. Part of her was furious with him for behaving as if he owned her, but the other part couldn’t forget the way her body had responded to that kiss.

  When she’d let Bob give her a peck on the cheek on Saturday night she’d felt nothing. She was puzzled why she reacted like this to a man she knew was no good for her and never would be – but she didn’t think he was a murderer, despite his threats. He was just trying to frighten her off Bob – and yet there was something in the way he’d spoken about the Army boys that bothered her. Did Jack bear a grudge against
the Army?

  Alice wished she knew more about him. Her father wasn’t going to tell her anything she wanted to know; he would just forbid her to speak to Jack – but maybe Eric would know something. She would tell him what Jack had said to her, because he was a local man and would know whether she ought to be worried or not. Bob had said he was able to take care of himself, but to Alice he seemed a modest, quiet person and she doubted he could defend himself against Jack Shaw and his like. Besides, there were a lot of bad men in this area and if Jack put the word out … Alice shivered, because she wouldn’t want anything to happen to Bob because of her.

  TWELVE

  ‘Would you take a tray up to the sick ward, Angela?’ Cook asked when Angela carried down the tea tray, which she had enjoyed in her office at eleven that morning. ‘I’m still so short-handed.’ The older woman gave a little shake of the head. ‘This flu bug has taken against my staff, I think.’

  ‘Yes, your girls have had more than their fair share,’ Angela agreed. ‘You know you have only to ask and I can help. We could always take on a temporary girl if you’re really pushed. I’m sure I could find an agency with an honest working girl on their list.’

  ‘You’ve a good heart, Angela, but I’m not sure Sister Beatrice would agree to that,’ Cook said and nodded approvingly. ‘I wasn’t sure you would fit in here when you first came, but I think you’ll do – and you can call me Muriel in future.’ She patted her hair, which had been freshly washed and Marcel-waved with heated tongs the previous day.

  ‘Thank you.’ Angela smiled, touched by the compliment. ‘Your hair looks lovely. I must find a good hairdresser to cut mine soon.’ She picked up the loaded tray and put it on the trolley. ‘I’ll bring what you need later, but for now I’ll take this tray up to the ward. At least visitors are allowed now that we don’t have any nasty infections.’

  ‘I’ll give you the phone number of my hairdresser,’ Muriel said. ‘If you meant what you said about extra staff … Well, I have a niece who is looking for a Saturday job until she takes up nursing. She doesn’t care about wages but wants to work with children – because she hopes to be a children’s nurse when she has finished all her exams.’

  ‘I’ll mention the possibility to Sister Beatrice, but your niece ought to be paid something,’ Angela said.

  Walking upstairs with the loaded trolley, Angela was thoughtful. She was beginning to find her way about now and the list of changes she wanted to make was growing. Some were just small things, but she had a feeling that Sister Beatrice was going to fight her all the way. For one thing, she’d noticed that the staff always used certain tables in the dining room, and there were places to spare at some of the children’s tables, so the carers could quite easily sit with the children sometimes to give it more of a family feeling. They were going to need more tables when the new wing was up and running; it didn’t make sense to have another dining room, because the kitchen was here. Perhaps they could expand out into the caretaker’s room and move him to the new wing?

  As she heard the happy laughter coming from the children’s ward, Angela’s frown lifted. The children here suffered from a variety of ailments, from little Johnny who had experienced a bad bout of rheumatic fever, which had left him with a weak heart, to little Susie, and young Marion Jason, a pretty child who’d had a nasty fall and broken both her arms and her right leg. Her arms had mended well, but her leg was still sore and festering from an infected wound that had almost drained her life from her before she was brought into the home. Marion’s father had beaten the child black and blue and then thrown her down the stairs; the wonder was that she hadn’t broken her neck. She’d been in the infirmary’s children’s ward for seven weeks, and then transferred to St Saviour’s once the wound had begun to heal. The infection was no longer a danger to her life but the wound still caused her pain, and she was just beginning to regain some mobility. However, the terrible experience had left her feeling nervous and for a long time she’d hardly spoken a word. The nurses and carers believed that she was beginning to trust them, but she seldom smiled or chattered as most of their children did.

  When Angela entered the ward and placed her tray of egg and cress sandwiches, and three dishes of plum tart and custard, on the table together with a jug of milk and another of orange squash, Marion was sitting on the edge of her bed. She was enraptured as Mr Markham read his story about a giant, who had captured a little girl and was going to eat her, but a big hairy spider had come to frighten the giant away and Johnny Goodboy had arrived to rescue Little Susie from the monster.

  Hearing the children giggling as the monster was vanquished by the big spider, which then sat down and drank a glass of milk, made Angela’s heart lift. She smiled at the brilliant young surgeon who gave so much of his time to children free of charge. She’d been told that he’d been introduced to St Saviour’s by Mark and had become a regular visitor of late. He was perhaps thirty years of age, she supposed, with rather too long light brown hair that fell forward over his brow and into his eyes, a pair of horn-rimmed glasses perched on the end of his nose for reading. He became aware of her, closed his book, removed his glasses and smiled, then stood up, nodding to Sally, who had been quietly watching in the background.

  ‘It’s time for your lunch already, my dears. We shall have another story next time – or perhaps you would prefer to work on a puzzle?’

  There were squeals of protest from the children, who begged him not to go, but he shook his head, telling him that he had patients waiting for him to cut lumps out of their tummies that afternoon. His words caused his audience to give little screams of delight, because to them it was no more than the wicked giant being chopped into little pieces and eaten by the big hairy spider – which, of course, was Mr Markham’s object in telling them gory stories. He believed it helped them to come to terms with what had happened to them at the hands of violent parents, preparing them for a future that would in most cases be hard. His stories always had a happy ending, an ending that gave them hope, reassuring them that, no matter what, there were people who could help: like those here at St Saviour’s.

  ‘Now then, children,’ Sally said. ‘Say thank you to Mr Markham. He has lots of sick people to make better and you have to eat your lunch.’

  ‘Can we have sandwiches made out of giant’s fingers and toes?’ Johnny said and shot a sly look at her.

  ‘Oh dear, what kind of monsters have I created here?’ Mr Markham twinkled at the young carer, and Sally’s blush made Angela wonder if his reasons for visiting so often might include a desire to see a pretty young woman.

  ‘They love your stories,’ Sally replied with a shy smile.

  ‘I’ll leave you to get on with it,’ Angela said and turned towards the door so as not to intrude if these two wanted a few moments alone. However, he was clearly about to leave himself, ushering her to go ahead and holding the door for her.

  ‘Bloodthirsty little monsters, aren’t they?’ Mr Markham remarked to Angela as he followed her into the corridor. ‘I find that children are very resilient. If you tread round them on tiptoe you do more harm than good. Most of them have known pain and unkindness. I think it far better to make up stories of wicked giants who get their comeuppance and work through their fear than to try to pretend that none of it happened. Facing up to it is always better in the long run.’

  ‘Yes, I believe that is the same for all of us. Mark Adderbury works on similar principles, I know.’

  ‘Yes, sound man. It was he that got me to try my stuff out here, more his field in a way, but I’ve always been interested in working with children in need of help – whether they are the casualties of life or simply underprivileged, and that isn’t necessarily always the same thing.’

  ‘No, I know what you mean; a child doesn’t have to be poor to suffer from bullying, and not all deprived children are unhappy. Some of the poorer families are brave and make excellent parents, but unfortunately society doesn’t see fit to pay them a living wage and the chi
ldren suffer. It is the vulnerable ones, the ones that have slipped through the net, forgotten by those who should care, that are most at risk.’

  ‘Exactly.’ He smiled at her. ‘How are you getting on here? Mark told me you had joined the staff. Fitting in all right?’

  ‘Yes, thank you, I think so,’ Angela replied with enthusiasm. ‘It was nice to hear the children laughing just now. Yet we can only help a few and there must be so many still out there needing and wanting the love that is denied to them by uncaring parents or …’ She broke off and blushed as she realised that she must sound like a well-meaning do-gooder.

  ‘It’s what we all need, isn’t it?’ he said and gave her an amused but approving look. ‘I must leave you now. I really do have to go and cut some lumps out of people’s tummies …’

  Angela watched as he went down the stairs and out of the front door. She’d told him she was fitting in, and she really believed she was finding her feet at last. Her work was mostly in the office thus far, but from next week she would be supervising the building work as well. Since making a friend of Muriel, she’d helped out with trays and cutting sandwiches, and she’d been on a trip to the park with some of the older children one afternoon. Sally had gone with her, and they’d taken the children on a pleasure boat on the Serpentine, and then given them tea at Lyons’ Corner House afterwards: little round ice creams and small fancy cakes washed down by ginger beer.

  One day in the future Angela was hoping there would be sufficient funds to take the kids into the Essex countryside or even the seaside, but that would happen only if she managed to bring in enough donations for next year. The money for their trips was raised by outside helpers who held flag days and went round shops and factories, collecting pennies in tins. Angela had chipped in with three pounds of her own money, which had paid for the special tea rather than just a cornet in the park. The children had been so excited by all they’d seen and done. Yet she knew this was only the beginning but her ideas would have to be introduced gradually. For the moment she wanted to see how things worked and what could be done to improve them.