Forgotten Children

by Cathy Sharp

  ‘I told you, we’ll be out of here soon,’ he murmured huskily against her throat. ‘I want you, Alice. It’s daft to keep sayin’ no when you know you don’t mean it. You want me as much as I want you …’

  The trouble was it was true and Alice had given into him on two or three occasions. She was terrified her period wouldn’t come and lived in fear of her father finding out that she was going with Jack, but he was a law unto himself these days and wouldn’t take no for an answer.

  Switching off the radio, Alice went back to work. If she was another day late for her monthlies she was really going to start worrying – and she would make Jack listen. If he was going to leave the gang he could do so sooner rather than later, couldn’t he? Alice wouldn’t feel safe until they were on that ship to America.

  She looked up and smiled as Michelle entered the staff room.

  ‘You got stuck with duty as well then,’ she said. ‘I didn’t mind but I thought you were a fan of the princess?’

  ‘I am,’ Michelle said, ‘but someone had to stay so I told Anna to go and I’d hold the fort. I shall see it all on the Pathé news when I go to the flicks tomorrow.’

  ‘Are you goin’ with some of the girls?’

  ‘No …’ Michelle’s cheeks reddened. ‘Your cousin Eric asked me and I said I would. He walked home with me the other night – actually, he stepped in to stop some louts who were pestering me. It was good of him, because it was late and no one else was about, so I said I’d go, but you needn’t grin like that. I’m not going steady with him or anyone.’

  ‘Eric is all right,’ Alice said. ‘I’m off to get ready for when Angela and Nan bring the kids back from the church party. Have a good time.’

  Michelle stared after her friend. Alice had been a bit quiet lately, but she seemed more cheerful today. She’d been on the verge of asking if something was worrying Alice, but decided not to pry. Michelle had reason to think her friend was being foolish with Jack Shaw, but she didn’t want to fall out with her and risked it if she nagged her too much about the undoubtedly charming rogue. Yet perhaps she should have spoken out, because she didn’t want Alice to be hurt.

  Michelle shut out a memory she didn’t want to intrude – a memory she’d pushed to a far corner of her mind long ago. She’d been as trusting as Alice once and she had fallen for a handsome face, but she’d paid for it.

  Michelle knew that she’d been lucky to get away with a sore heart. Alan had seduced her with promises he never meant to keep – promises he couldn’t keep, because he was already married and had a child. Perhaps she should have told Alice how she’d been seduced by a sweet-talking rogue. She would, next time she got a chance, because that might bring her friend to her senses.

  Thank God she’d discovered the truth in time, before she got caught in the trap he’d set for her and ended up alone and pregnant. Her experience had made her wary of men, however pleasant and honest they seemed, and the thought of her best friend being mixed up with someone like Jack Shaw made Michelle’s stomach turn sour. One of the reasons she’d agreed to go to the cinema with Eric was because she intended to ask him to keep an eye on Alice if he could.

  Eric might be stationed away for most of the time, but he had plenty of East End mates and if he asked around he would soon discover what was going on. Michelle knew Alice might be angry if she knew that her cousin was looking out for her, but it was better than letting her get into trouble …

  Angela kicked her shoes off and put her feet up. She was thoroughly exhausted after spending all afternoon looking after a horde of excited children at the church fete. They had played games and watched a slide show on a large white screen; they’d been entertained by a magician and given a bag of homemade toffee and fudge to take away at the end of the party. And that was not until a wonderful spread of sandwiches, cakes, jellies and tinned fruit – all the way from some good people in America, thank God for the Allies! – had been consumed and washed down with glasses of orange squash.

  The telephone rang and she reached for it, glad that she didn’t have to get up, because she wasn’t sure she could. Her father’s voice came over the phone, asking if she’d managed to see any of the royal wedding.

  ‘No, I was busy with a party for the children,’ she said. ‘I might have gone to watch the coach pass, but one of the carers wanted to go with her sister so I volunteered to do her job.’

  ‘Your mother and I saw the princess go into the Abbey. We got a good view because someone let us through to the front, even though we didn’t get there until an hour before she arrived.’

  ‘I had no idea you were coming up. If you’d let me know I could have met you …’

  ‘That is why I’m ringing you now. Your mother misses you, love. We thought you might like to come and have dinner with us – as it is a special occasion?’

  ‘Yes, of course, Daddy,’ Angela said. ‘I shall enjoy that – but I need to get washed and changed. I shall be more than an hour.’

  ‘All the time in the world, my love,’ he said. ‘We both miss you, you know.’

  ‘I’ll be there as soon as I can,’ Angela said and replaced the receiver after being instructed to take a taxi to the Criterion. Her father was doing it in style, and suddenly her tiredness had fled. She would enjoy spending the evening with her parents for a change – even though she’d hoped she might hear from Mark. It was a week or two now since she’d seen him to talk to, though he’d visited St Saviour’s. She was conscious of missing him, though that was just foolish …

  Beatrice opened the account books in front of her and ran her finger down the column of figures. A frown touched her brow as she added them up for the sixth time and came to the same total. She was going to be fifty pounds down this month again, and that wouldn’t please the Bishop when she attended the meeting tomorrow.

  Perhaps those commemorative mugs had been a mistake. She had wanted to give the children something to mark such a special day, but even at the cheap rate they had stretched her budget. She ought to have been firmer and ignored the idea. After all the children had been to a party and that should have been enough. Goodness knows, she did her best, but there was always another child to take in, another mouth to feed, and another body to clothe. Even with all the gifts and the extra money Angela had raised, it was a stretch each month.

  Oh, well, the money was spent and she couldn’t change her mind now. She closed the book and got up to pour herself a glass of sherry. She thought regretfully of the small bequest her father had left her, which she had immediately donated to her order. Since her vocation forbade her to own or think of worldly goods, she’d given the money to the Abbey, but she sometimes thought that the order was well-endowed and St Saviour’s could have done with that three hundred pounds. Too late to think of that now.

  What she really needed was for Angela’s fundraising to do well. Beatrice hadn’t asked how much was in the fund, because she didn’t want to admit that she’d overspent again this month, but perhaps she would just inquire how the Christmas fund was coming along in the morning.

  Frowning, Beatrice poured herself another sherry. Her liking for the drink was undoubtedly a failing. Mother Superior would say she must curb her weakness, but Beatrice pushed the guilt from her conscious mind. She only ever drank in moderation, and if it was a sin it was surely a small one. After all, it was a special day, wasn’t it? Princess Elizabeth had married the man of her choice and all was well with the world. Yet there was a shadow haunting her, hovering at her shoulder.

  Perhaps it was that boy … Jake who had died of the chicken pox. Something about him reminded her of another child, a child she had been unable to protect. The old memory flickered for a moment before she managed to banish it. She was not to blame, though God knew she still felt the guilt of what had happened after all this time.

  A sigh left her lips and then her brooding thoughts fled as someone knocked at the door and she heard a voice she knew well asking if he might come in.

  ‘Of
course,’ she called and Father Joe walked in. She felt her mood lighten instantly. She knew he’d come to spend an hour or two with her because he was carrying a small bottle of her favourite sherry. Her loneliness fled and she produced another glass, inviting him to sit and tell her all about his day. He’d been organising a children’s party at the Catholic church hall and by the look of him he was exhausted. ‘Tell me how you’ve been getting on – and perhaps you might give me your opinion on something that has been bothering me …’

  ‘I’m always ready to listen and share your burdens,’ he told her with his ready smile. ‘Fire away, me darlin’; there’s nothing so bad it can’t be lightened by sharing the load.’

  Sally was listening to an account of the royal wedding on the wireless with her mother. She’d brought a few souvenirs home for her and they settled down in the parlour, with a glass of ginger wine and a piece of fatless sponge, when the front doorbell rang.

  ‘Who can that be at this hour?’ her mother said, looking a bit cross. ‘You go, Sally. I couldn’t face all those crowds earlier and I want to listen to this.’

  Sally nodded and got to her feet. She hoped Keith hadn’t come round expecting her to go out with him and she jerked the door back impatiently, but her annoyance melted as she saw who was standing there.

  ‘Mr Markham …’ she said, suddenly a little breathless.

  ‘Why don’t you call me Andrew?’ he asked. ‘I did suggest it when we had that drink – in private anyway.’

  ‘All right,’ Sally said, feeling oddly shy. ‘I wasn’t expecting you – will you come in please?’

  ‘Yes, thank you,’ he said. ‘I wondered if you would like to come out for a little celebration – a meal somewhere quiet and nice if you haven’t eaten, or just a drink. I know of a new Italian restaurant that everyone says is good …’

  ‘Who is it, Sally?’ Her father had come into the hall, dressed in his trousers and braces and a shirt with rolled-up sleeves, and looked startled. ‘Mr Markham, is it?’ he said and offered his hand. ‘Is there a crisis at St Saviour’s?’

  ‘Oh no, nothing like that,’ Andrew Markham replied, shaking his hand. ‘I was hoping to persuade Sally to let me take her out for a celebration as it is a special day.’

  ‘I’ve eaten, but I wouldn’t mind going for a drink. I’ll just get my jacket …’

  Sally hurried through to the kitchen and took her jacket from behind the door. She could hear the two men laughing and, when she returned, her father was smiling and Andrew Markham was looking perfectly at ease.

  ‘I’m ready,’ Sally said and her father winked at Andrew.

  ‘These young girls are always in a hurry these days. Off you go, then – but remember you have to get up in the morning.’

  ‘Of course,’ Sally said, kissed his cheek and then went out of the door Andrew Markham was holding for her. Her heart fluttered as she saw the way he looked at her. Last time they’d gone for a drink it had been a wonderful evening. Sally hadn’t stopped talking and laughing and the time had flown by.

  ‘Your father told me you went up the Mall earlier – did you see much?’

  ‘Yes, we were lucky, we got a good view,’ Sally said and when he offered his arm she hugged it and smiled up at him, her heart beating joyously. ‘I loved it, Andrew – all the horses and the men in their smart uniforms marching, and the bands, and everyone in a happy mood. It was so lovely. Did you get to see it?’

  ‘Unfortunately, I had to work, but I did manage to listen to a bit of it on the radio, and we heard the crowds cheering all the way.’ He smiled down at her. ‘I’m glad you got to see it. I thought about you and wondered if you were there.’

  ‘Yes, I thought about you too,’ she admitted.

  ‘Good.’ He paused. ‘You’re lovely, Sally, special, and I feel happy whenever I see you.’

  Sally giggled and held his arm tighter. She’d loved the procession and the feeling of excitement and joy that had spread through the crowds at their first sight of the princess as she went by in her coach, but this … going out with Andrew again was even better.

  ‘I feel the same,’ she whispered softly. ‘This will make a very special day even more special. Thank you for thinking of it.’

  ‘Thank you for coming with me,’ he said and then bent his head towards her, just brushing her lips with his own. ‘I want us to do this more often …’

  Sally’s head was spinning and she could hardly breathe because her heart was behaving so foolishly, beating so hard she thought he might hear it.

  ‘I shall never forget this day. I’ll remember it always.’

  TWENTY-TWO

  Angela woke feeling unusually tired and reluctant to get up. She’d stayed up late the previous evening celebrating with her parents – but she hadn’t drunk much and that wasn’t the reason for her unease. She remembered that they’d been seated at their table when a party of men and women entered, and she’d been surprised to see Mark was one of them. They’d been shown to a large table on the other side of the room, and it was obvious they were enjoying themselves, ordering champagne and laughing.

  Angela had avoided looking in his direction, but Mark had seen her just as she was ordering her sweet course and he came over to the table. Angela’s father had risen to his feet and the two men shook hands.

  ‘How are you, sir? Mrs Hendry?’ Mark had paused before he turned to Angela. ‘I didn’t know you were coming here this evening? You’ve been busy at the home recently, I know.’

  ‘Yes, there is rather a lot to do,’ Angela agreed. ‘But they do let me out now and again, you know.’

  ‘She works far too hard,’ Mrs Hendry said. ‘Why she bothers I have no idea. If I had my way she would come home.’

  ‘I think Angela enjoys her work,’ Mark said.

  ‘I love it,’ she said. ‘There’s never any time to be bored. After several delays, the builders have been hard at work for a couple of weeks now, Mark. Have you seen what an improvement they’ve made already?’

  ‘Yes, and it is going to get better,’ he said. ‘We must meet for a drink soon and talk about the changes. Excuse me, I must get back to my friends, but I wanted to say hello. Goodnight, Mrs Hendry, Edward …’

  ‘I’ll give you a ring tomorrow,’ Angela’s father said. ‘Would it be convenient to talk – perhaps in the evening after we get home?

  ‘Of course,’ Mark said but looked puzzled. ‘I hope nothing is wrong?’

  ‘Oh no, just a small matter I’d like your advice on.’

  ‘Of course. Enjoy yourselves – Angela.’

  Mark walked back to his table but Angela refused to watch. It was ridiculous to feel slightly jealous of the beautiful brunette he appeared to be with, because she had no hold on him, none at all. He was a good friend and that was all she wanted him to be, because she could never bring herself to love again, and if she didn’t want Mark to be her lover she couldn’t be jealous of his happiness with someone else. Of course she couldn’t – and she wasn’t!

  ‘Is anything the matter, Father?’ Angela asked but he shook his head.

  ‘Just something I’d like to speak to Mark about, that’s all.’

  Sighing now, Angela washed and dressed. If her father wanted her to know he would tell her in his own good time.

  A little later that morning, Angela entered the staff room and found Nan there before her, collecting dirty cups and saucers. It was just one of the tasks that the woman often did. Employed as the head carer or supervisor, everyone saw her as a substitute mother and ran to her with their problems. Nan always seemed to have time to listen. Although she was wearing a white apron, she did not have a uniform.

  ‘Your hair looks lovely. Have you had it styled differently?’

  ‘Yes.’ Nan looked a little self-conscious and touched her hair, which was cut in a stylish DA. ‘I thought it was time for a change so I had a restyle …’

  ‘It certainly suits you,’ Angela remarked as Nan fetched a cup someone had left on the
windowsill. ‘Couldn’t one of the kitchen staff do that?’ she asked and reached for the kettle.

  Nan laughed and stopped what she was doing to sit down and look at Angela. ‘I’m ready for a cuppa if you’re making tea?’

  ‘Yes, of course,’ Angela agreed. ‘Have you got time for a chat?’

  ‘We are all of us busy most of the time,’ Nan said. ‘Especially when we’re short staffed.’

  ‘Have you got casualties again?’

  ‘Kelly has a cold. She should collect the dirty cups and supply fresh, and do the washing up – but she is a little unreliable.’

  ‘Yes, I’ve seen Kelly a couple of times. Is she Welsh?’

  ‘Her father is …’

  ‘How long have you been here?’ Angela asked as she poured boiling water into the pot and gave it a stir.

  ‘I joined the staff when Sister Beatrice came here. We’ve known each other for some years, before she became a nun. Then we met again, when I took a cleaning job at the hospital she worked for and she was very kind to me when … I needed help. My husband and son had both died of typhoid fever and my daughter … well, to cut a long story short, when Beatrice was asked to take this on, she approached me to help her out here.’

  Angela handed her a cup of tea. ‘I hope that’s as you like it?’

  ‘Lovely, thank you. Beatrice told me it has made a difference you being here.’

  ‘Has it? I’m glad if she’s pleased with my work – though I must admit I would love to do more for the children.’

  ‘You would be wasted simply as a carer,’ Nan said earnestly. ‘I know you’re raising money for us, money that we really need. It’s something that neither Beatrice nor I could do half as well. Yes, I appreciate that you help out with the children too, and that’s good – but you mustn’t think we don’t notice what you do, because we do. The children enjoy all the things you arrange for them.’

  ‘Yes, I think they do,’ Angela agreed. ‘Billy was fascinated by that working steam engine at the toy fair. He hardly moved from the stand, and he told me afterwards that he liked engines. He wants to work with them when he leaves school.’