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Forgotten Children

Page 19

by Cathy Sharp


  Keith was waiting for her when she emerged from the cloakroom. He was frowning, clearly annoyed that she’d insisted on going home before he was ready to leave. It was chilly as they left the over-warm dance hall and Sally shivered. He turned his head to look at her.

  ‘Are you cold?’

  ‘Not really. It was very warm inside there.’

  ‘Come here, and I’ll put my arm about you, keep you warm.’ The suggestion in his tone and the smile on his lips made Sally frown and take a step away from him.

  ‘I’m not ready for anything more than having fun,’ she told him, deciding that she had to get this thing sorted. ‘I like going out with you but I want to do my training and it will be at least three years until I’m a fully qualified state registered nurse, and even then I shall want to work for a while …’

  ‘Doesn’t stop us gettin’ married, does it?’

  ‘I’m not ready, Keith …’

  ‘I can wait if I have to.’

  Sally caught the smell of frying and wanted to change the subject. ‘Oh, that smells good. I’m hungry. Shall we get a packet of chips?’

  ‘Good idea.’ Keith grabbed her hand and they ran across the road together. He stopped outside the door and looked in through the steamy glass. ‘Isn’t that your Mr Markham? I saw him leaving St Saviour’s when I came round to fix a toilet last week; someone spoke to him. I remembered you sayin’ he was a top surgeon or something. What is he doing in a fish and chip shop here?’

  Sally looked and laughed. ‘He’s buying a bag of chips just like us,’ she said. ‘Did you think he was one of the gods and lived on nectar and honey?’

  ‘Cheeky monkey!’ Keith retorted.

  ‘Hello, sir,’ Sally said as Mr Markham emerged from the shop with a packet of chips in his hand. ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘I’ve just finished an operation that took hours longer than we expected and I was hungry. I like to walk for a while after I’ve been working intensely and I smelled these … so here I am. Try one of my chips, Sally.’ He offered the paper. ‘I’ve put plenty of salt and vinegar on.’

  ‘That’s kind of you, sir.’ Sally took a chip and smiled, as she tasted it. ‘Oh, yes, that is nice. I shall want a big bag of these, Keith.’

  ‘I’ll go in and get them.’

  ‘You’re out late?’ Mr Markham said, showing no desire to move on. ‘Been somewhere nice?’ His eyes went over her, taking in the pretty dress and seeming to approve. ‘You look lovely …’

  ‘Thank you.’ She blushed. ‘We went to the Pally, but it was very hot and I fancied some fresh air so we’re walking home.’

  ‘You look as if it suits you, Sally; your cheeks are nice and pink, like delicate roses …’ There was a teasing look in his eyes. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in anything but the overall you use for work.’

  ‘No …’ She felt a little breathless, and yet she was more alive than she’d ever been, her whole body jinglingly aware of him. She wished that she’d been alone and that she could spend time with him … that he was the one walking her home.

  ‘I suppose I’d better go,’ he said but she heard the reluctance in his voice and his eyes seemed to speak to hers, making her heart race. ‘You’ll want to get back to your boyfriend.’

  ‘We’re just friends,’ she said quickly and then felt embarrassed. ‘I’m going to train as a nurse once I’ve finished my course at night school …’

  Sally saw the smile in his eyes, but he just nodded and walked away as Keith emerged from the shop with the packets of chips.

  She watched as the surgeon headed off down the street eating his fish and chips, only turning as Keith came up to her.

  ‘Has he gone?’ Keith asked. ‘What did he want, talking to you all that time?’ There was a note of jealousy in his voice. ‘He’s not your sort, Sally. You want to be careful of men like him. They only want one thing from a girl of your class.’

  ‘What do you mean by that? I’m as good as anyone!’

  ‘Yes, of course you are. I didn’t mean anything – only be careful of him.’

  ‘Shall we eat these as we walk to the next tram stop?’ Sally bit into one of her chips. Keith was right in a way, she had seen the interest in Mr Markham’s eyes, but a man like him wouldn’t be serious about a girl like her, would he? She suspected Keith might be right, but that didn’t give him the right to speak to her like that, did it? Her family might be hard up at times but they were decent.

  ‘I’m sorry, Sally, don’t be angry with me,’ Keith said, looking regretful. ‘I was wondering if you’d like to go and see Annie Get Your Gun at the theatre one night. It’s a musical and all the reviews say it’s good.’

  ‘Well …’ Sally hesitated; she wasn’t keen on going out with him alone, but the offer was tempting. ‘Yes, why not? I don’t think I’ve been to a musical before but it sounds nice. As long as you remember it’s just friends, Keith.’

  ‘If you like,’ Keith said but looked sulky again. ‘What about if I call for you on Monday night?’

  ‘Yes, thanks. I’d like that,’ she agreed. It was nice to be asked somewhere special Yet she was already wondering if it was a good idea. Perhaps she ought to have just said no, because in her heart she knew that Keith wasn’t the one for her and perhaps letting him take her out wasn’t really fair on him …

  Sally noticed the atmosphere as soon as she entered the kitchen. It felt warm after the chill of the evening air and smelled of wood smoke. A pile of ironing, ready to go up to the airing cupboard, was laid on the shabby old sofa. Mum talked vaguely of getting a new one but so far there wasn’t anything in the shops and she didn’t want second-hand this time. They’d all had enough of make do and mend these past few years. Her father’s working boots had been set by the fire to dry out and they had the radio on. By the sound of it they were listening to Henry Hall’s big band dance music, and she knew they would have had “In Town Tonight” on earlier, because they always did on a Saturday. Her mother and father were sitting at the table over a cup of tea from a large brown pot, slices of fruitcake in front of them, but neither of them had touched it and they both looked worried.

  ‘Is Bren all right?’ Sally asked, because it was the first thing that came into her head.

  ‘Yes. She is upstairs in bed,’ Mrs Rush sighed. ‘It’s your father – he’s just been told that he’s been put onto a two-day week.’

  ‘Only two days now?’ Sally stared at her in dismay. ‘That’s rotten luck, Dad. What reason did they give you?’

  ‘It’s just a shortage of work, that’s all. They keep telling us that it will only be for a short time, but unless more work comes soon I can see them closing down altogether.’

  ‘And then what shall we do?’ Sally’s mother asked. ‘You can’t give me any more and neither can Brenda. I’ve looked for work. I’ll take anything … but a few hours scrubbing office toilets is all I can find.’

  ‘And you are not doing that,’ her husband said sharply. ‘I mean it, Millie. I’m going to start to look for another job tomorrow. If anyone has to scrub toilets it will be me, not you. I’m telling you so listen to me for once. I won’t have my wife demeaning herself like that.’

  ‘Listen to Dad,’ Sally urged. ‘I can give you a little bit more if I don’t save for a while …’

  ‘That’s your money for nursing college,’ her mother objected. ‘It’s your dream, Sally. I can’t bear that you should give up everything. You’ve worked so hard through night school as well as your job. It wouldn’t be fair.’

  ‘I agree with your ma,’ Mr Rush said. ‘Keep your savings, girl. I’ll find something to take the place of the wages I’ve lost. I worked for Bill Saunders through the war, because he applied for and got exemption for his workers. I wouldn’t have been much good in the Army anyway, bit too old the second time round, and I did my bit in the first one. Bill will see me right as soon as he’s got the work. We’re not desperate yet.’

  ‘No, and I want to help,’ in
sisted her mother.

  ‘Not scrubbing toilets for other people. You have enough to do here.’

  ‘Dad is right,’ Sally agreed. ‘You work hard here, Mum. We’ll manage somehow. I don’t mind waiting another year to apply for college. Dad is sure to find something before then …’ Her heart bled for him, because he was a proud man and she knew that it must hurt him because he couldn’t keep his family as he always had.

  Sally was feeling tired when she went into work on Monday morning. She hadn’t slept very much, because her mind kept going round and round in circles, but she couldn’t find a solution to her family’s problems. If they were to keep paying their rent and live, one of them had to make sacrifices, and Sally had quite a few pounds saved for nursing college. If she had to she would give it to her mother to pay their rent for a few weeks.

  However, Sally soon forgot her own problems as she got into the routine of looking after the children. Many of them were perfectly healthy, very resilient despite the traumas they had endured, and acted like normal kids, running in the playground and yelling at the tops of their voices. She gathered them up after breakfast, and first washed hands and faces to get rid of strawberry jam, then took them into their own schoolroom.

  This was a large, sunny room at the back of the house and looked out into the small garden and the playground. Bookcases lined the walls and there were two long tables, at which the children sat to draw or do simple sums. In one corner of the room was a rush mat next to a cupboard where the toys were placed. Sally was most often the carer who looked after the children during the day and she had established a routine. First of all they had to do simple lessons, like adding up or forming their letters, and then they had a break for a glass of milk and a plain biscuit. Afterwards, they went out into the garden for half an hour to play games. Only when they returned were they allowed to play with the dolls, building bricks, wooden train set and the wonderful Noah’s ark that someone had donated to the home.

  Several children tried to make a beeline for the toys as soon as they came in, but Sally was firm with them, making them sit down and do their drawings or, if they had started to write, to form their letters. One little girl was only three so Sally normally sat and showed her picture books, teaching her what the letters spelled by showing her the pictures of a cat and various other animals.

  Valerie liked the reading but she also liked scribbling with crayons, and this morning Sally allowed her to have her way, giving her a large sheet of paper and the box of wax crayons. She was walking round, watching over the children’s shoulders to see what they were drawing, when the door opened and Mary Ellen walked in, followed by Billy Baggins.

  ‘Sorry I’m late, miss,’ Mary Ellen said. ‘Nan asked me to help her find Lizzie. She’d locked herself in the toilets and couldn’t get out, so I crawled underneath the door and opened it for her. Lizzie was cryin’, ’cos she said they were going to stick needles in her, and she wouldn’t come out for Nan, but I got her to in the end. And I don’t have school because I’ve still got a bit of a cold.’

  Sally nodded, then, ‘Why aren’t you at school, Billy?’

  ‘I’ve got the morning off,’ he replied innocently. ‘It’s football practice and I’m no good at football so they told me to stop home today.’

  ‘Billy, you love football,’ Sally said. ‘Now tell me the truth. Why haven’t you gone to school?’

  Billy hung his head and kicked the ground. ‘It’s a spellin’ test, miss. I can’t do spellin’ and Mr Saunders will whack me round the legs if I get them wrong again.’ He pulled a dirty-looking piece of paper from his pocket. ‘I was supposed to learn them words and I forgot.’

  ‘Let’s have a look,’ Sally said and took the paper from him. ‘You haven’t tried to learn them, have you?’

  ‘No, miss.’

  ‘Look, I’ll chalk them on the board for you, and you and Mary Ellen can copy them down over and over again. Do it together and speak them aloud and then they will stay in your head.’

  ‘I know what they are,’ Mary Ellen said. ‘I’ll help you learn them, Billy. Why didn’t you tell me before?’

  ‘All right then,’ he agreed.

  Sally went to the board and chalked up the list. She was looking at it as she said, ‘Anyone who knows how to form the letters can copy these down if they like and then we’ll say them together.’

  ‘I know the first one.’ A voice spoke from the back of the room, and Sally spun round, staring in disbelief as she saw who was standing there. ‘It’s horse, isn’t it, miss?’

  The children tittered with laughter as Mr Markham sat down on one of their chairs and drew a piece of paper to him on the table. Two of the little ones gravitated to his side, leaning against him as he began to write.

  ‘The first letter is an aitch,’ he said. ‘And the second is O – round like an orange. Does anyone know what the third is?’

  A chorus of voices told him it was an r and then the class started chanting the letters as Sally chalked them on the board, and Mary Ellen and Billy wrote them down studiously.

  ‘Horse, cat, house, donkey … that’s a big word, miss,’ Mr Markham said and the children went into ripples of laughter again.

  He continued until everyone was chanting the words, even Billy and Mary Ellen joining in, and then asked if anyone would like to hear a story. All the children shouted out that they did and Sally sat down, listening as he began to tell them one of his stories about monsters and giants who ate children, and of the brave animals who rescued them.

  No one wanted to stop for the milk break and they all groaned when Mr Markham announced he had to leave now, begging him to tell them another story.

  ‘Well, I shall have to love you and leave you … for now,’ he said, winking at Sally. Her heart jumped and she felt the breath catch in her throat as her gaze dropped from those wicked eyes. ‘I shall be here on Saturday – and that’s a promise.’ He kissed the tips of his fingers towards her and then the room in general, producing a few more giggles amongst the children.

  Something in his manner at that moment made Sally look at him and she felt that the kiss was just for her, that there was more in his words than he could say in front of the children.

  ‘I shall look forward to it,’ Sally said, lifting her eyes to his suddenly. Her mouth felt dry as she saw the look in his and knew that she was right; he did like her a lot! Heart racing, she gave him a shy smile. ‘Thank you for helping us. Children, say thank you to Mr Markham.’

  ‘Thank you, Mr Markham,’ they chanted as he left the room.

  He smiled again at Sally from the doorway, and her pulse raced as she met what seemed to her an intimate look, promising much more than mere liking. She felt tingly all over, butterflies fluttering in her stomach, but then she realised she was being foolish. Mr Markham probably smiled at all the pretty girls like that and she was an idiot.

  ‘Time for milk and then we’ll play games outside,’ Sally said, making herself think straight. ‘Billy, I think you should go to school now, please. Tell your teacher you had to stop to help out here and perhaps he won’t cane you.’

  ‘All right. I think I can remember most of them words now, miss.’ He touched Mary Ellen on the arm and went out.

  ‘Billy’s all right really, miss,’ Mary Ellen said after he’d gone. ‘I’m starting back at school next week, so I’ll make sure he goes in future.’

  ‘Yes, he really should,’ Sally said. ‘Now do you want to help me give the milk out? And then we’ll go outside for some air … and after that you can all play with the toys …’ Sally was still in a pleasant dream that consisted of Mr Markham taking her in his arms and kissing her, but she was rudely interrupted by one of the children pointing and giggling.

  ‘Miss has gone all soppy over her boyfriend.’

  ‘Don’t be silly, David,’ Sally said and laughed. What an idiot she was for engaging in daydreams over a man who probably had half the women at his hospital drooling over him!

 
Sally was thoughtful as she walked home late that afternoon. She had really enjoyed her day. The little incident with Mr Markham had had her floating on air for most of the morning, and the afternoon had been spent taking most of the children on a trip to an exhibition of mechanical toys that had just opened, a kind of toy fair, with exhibits from the past and new ideas for the future. Angela had arranged it and she’d asked Sally and Nan to help her manage the children.

  There had been a stall outside selling hot roasted chestnuts and Angela had bought all the children a small bag to eat. Then they’d crowded onto the tram and gone back to St Saviour’s for tea. When the older children came back from school some of them had sulked when they learned what they’d missed, so Angela said she would take them on Saturday afternoon and asked Sally if she would come too. It was Sally’s half day, but she’d agreed, because she liked Angela a lot and knew she couldn’t manage alone, and Nan had other duties that day. There would be just the two of them, but the older children didn’t take so much looking after as the young ones.

  Sally thought that her job at St Saviour’s was all right really. Perhaps it wouldn’t matter if she never managed to put herself through nursing school, because one day she would want to get married – wouldn’t she?

  Sally had never really thought about this, because she hadn’t met anyone she would want to spend the rest of her life with – not in that way. Keith was nice as a friend, but she wanted something different when she married – someone good with children. Someone like Mr Markham, whose smile could make her melt inside like warm chocolate. No, that was daft! She was a fool even to imagine it …

  Lost in her thoughts she didn’t realise what was going on ahead of her until she heard the screeching of brakes. Suddenly, a lorry skidded across the road trying to avoid hitting an old lady … and crashed into a young lad on a delivery bike. Giving a cry of alarm, Sally rushed to the lad who had been knocked off his bike and was lying in the road. His face had blood on it and his eyes were closed, as if the blow had rendered him unconscious. She knelt by his side, bending over him to smooth his hair back from his face and comfort him, wishing that she knew more about nursing. She was sure he ought not to be moved until a doctor had seen him and said as much to a man who wanted to get him out of the road because of the traffic.

 

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