by Cathy Sharp
‘Do you know why we ask the children not to come here at times like these?’
Mary Ellen shook her head, surprised by the gentle tone of Sister’s voice. ‘No, Sister. I suppose it’s the rules …’
‘It’s because it’s hard to witness death, child,’ Sister said softly. ‘We try to spare you pain if we can. Johnny has gone from us. There was nothing anyone could do, because God decided to take him. His heart was weak, because of the illness he’d had, and it was only a matter of time. We knew this would happen one day. We just hoped it would not be yet. It is a shame for the rest of you that it should happen now, before Christmas, because his death must cast a shadow – but you must try to remember Johnny as he was. He would want you to be happy.’
‘It isn’t fair,’ Mary Ellen said, her bottom lip trembling. ‘He was only seven … he never had a chance to grow up. There’s lots of bad folk in the world. Why doesn’t God take them instead of lovely people? Johnny was good …’
‘Perhaps that is why God wanted him. I like to think that God cares for all our departed children. We can never know the answers to these questions, Mary Ellen. Life is often unfair, as you will already know, and I’m afraid there’s little we can do about it – though if we do good things wherever we can perhaps we might make a little difference. Johnny was happy here at St Saviour’s, I think.’
‘Yes, he was always smiling … until the last few days.’
‘I expect he felt unwell. Perhaps it is selfish of us to want him to go on living because he did suffer a lot, you know. He wanted to be up and about, running and playing games with the rest of you, but he couldn’t, and I expect that made him sad. Johnny didn’t make a fuss but I think he was sad sometimes when he couldn’t do what the rest of you take for granted. He is at peace now, child, and we must just remember him with love. When you’re older you will come to accept that there is sadness in life but also much to be happy about.’
‘Like all the fun of Christmas?’
‘Yes. You must all enjoy it, because so many people are trying to make it good for you – and Johnny will be looking down and watching you.’
‘Is he with the angels? My father always told me that when children die they go to live with the angels in heaven.’
‘Then your father was right,’ Sister said and took her by the hand. ‘No more tears now, Mary Ellen. Remember to pray for Johnny and think of him with the angels. You ought to be in your dorm now, child. Otherwise your carer will be frantic looking for you.’
Mary Ellen shuffled her feet. ‘You’re not angry with me for coming?’
‘I’m not an ogre, child. I know I punished you for lying, and it was wrong of you to lie, do you not agree?’
‘Yes, Sister, it was wrong. I did it for Billy, but I won’t do it again. I promise.’
‘Good. I hope in future you will tell me if you are anxious for your friend, because if I know what is wrong I may be able to help. That is what I’m here for; you must understand that, because it is the only way I can help you.’
‘You won’t send him away?’
‘I shall not do so, but I am not sure the magistrates will take the same view. He did help his brother break into people’s houses. I think we all understand why – but it was still wrong, and his fate no longer lies in my hands, I fear. I shall, however, do what I can to keep him here. Now go to your dorm, child. It’s the Church party tomorrow and you don’t want to be tired for that …’
‘Yes, Sister.’
Mary Ellen left her sitting on Johnny’s bed. She felt heart-sore and distressed by her friend’s death, and also by what Sister had told her. The police might say Billy was a bad boy and then the magistrates would send him to a house of correction and she might never see him again … but Sister had promised to do what she could. Mary Ellen did not know why, but somehow she trusted Sister Beatrice far more than she had in the past.
Something had changed tonight, and she knew that she was very lucky to be here at St Saviour’s. She just hoped that Billy would be able to stay here too.
THIRTY-NINE
Sister had gathered everyone together in the dining room the next morning. Looking very solemn, she told them that Johnny had passed away peacefully in his sleep and was now in the arms of the angels.
‘Johnny loved being here with all the friends he made at St Saviour’s,’ she said. ‘I know that he would not want you to be too sad, because it is nearly Christmas and that is why the Church party this afternoon, and the carol service tomorrow will go ahead. Father Christmas will come on Christmas Eve as promised, and as we enjoy ourselves we shall remember the child we loved. We shall say a prayer for Johnny and he will be remembered in chapel next Sunday by all of you who attend. However, I should like you all to say the Lord’s Prayer with me now.’
‘Our Father who art in heaven … Hallowed be Thy Name …’
Sister Beatrice intoned the popular prayer and the children chanted it after her. Mary Ellen noticed that Sally and Michelle were crying, and so were Nan and Angela. She’d cried all her tears and could only hold Billy’s hand tightly and pray that their friend was in heaven, where he deserved to be.
After Sister finished the prayer, she paused and then smiled. ‘I am very glad to be able to tell you one piece of good news. Maisie Chapman’s aunt has asked if she can go and stay with her after Christmas. I’ve been told that Maisie will be taken on holidays with her aunt and if she is happy there, eventually she will go to live with her.’
A few of the children cheered. It was always good when someone came for a child, though it didn’t happen often enough. Some were silent, because they knew that no one was ever going to come for them.
Mary Ellen was thoughtful as she left the dining room, following the others towards the schoolroom. Her school had broken up for the Christmas holidays now and Sally had asked her to come and help with some of the little ones; they were making some paper packets, which would be filled with sugared almonds and placed with a cracker by every child’s plate on Christmas Day.
Mary Ellen didn’t often think of Rose, because she knew her sister was at her hospital and doing well, but now she couldn’t help thinking about her, wondering when she would visit – and what news she would bring of their mother. Mary Ellen had written letters to her mother several times and Sally had posted them for her but Ma had only replied once, right at the start. Her sister sent brief postcards now and then but seldom mentioned her mother, just what she was doing herself. Rose’s last postcard two weeks previously had said she was going down to visit Ma and would come and see her afterwards, but so far she hadn’t.
‘What are you doing today?’ asked Billy, as he walked along beside her.
‘Helping Sally to look after the little ones. We’re making Christmas cards. Why don’t you come too?’
‘Billy …’ Angela’s voice stopped them in their tracks. ‘Billy, Sister would like to see you in her office now, please.’
The colour left Billy’s face for a moment, but in an instant a look of defiance replaced the fear and he stuck his chin up. ‘I’d better do as the old dragon asks,’ he said in a low voice and Mary Ellen giggled.
‘Good luck. She won’t send you away, but the police might if you don’t tell them all you know. Be brave and honest, Billy, and I’m sure it will turn out right.’
‘Come along, Billy,’ Angela said and smiled. ‘I’ll come with you.’
‘All right, miss.’
He turned and followed her, leaving Mary Ellen to stare after him. Tears pricked her eyes but she didn’t cry. She would hate it here if they sent Billy away, but there was nothing else she could do.
She just wished that Rose would come and visit her. If her ma got better she could go home and perhaps Ma would let Billy come too …
Angela knew that Billy was scared, even though he was putting a brave face on it, but she couldn’t say anything to comfort him because he would hate to be patronised or pitied. She could only hope that Sister Beatrice would
be fair and not punish him too harshly.
When they entered Sister’s office, she saw the tall, burly policeman standing by the window and felt Billy stiffen at her side. Not knowing what else she could do, Angela put her hand briefly on his shoulder, giving it a little squeeze in the hope that it would comfort him.
‘Ah, Billy,’ Sister said in what was for her a surprisingly gentle voice. ‘I’m glad you’ve come to see us – and I hope you are ready to answer the constable’s questions? I know this will be hard for you, because Arthur is all the family you have – but I think you know right from wrong, don’t you?’
‘Yes, Sister. It ain’t easy but I’ve made up me mind to do it.’
‘I have every confidence in you, Billy – and you know you can trust us. You are safe here at St Saviour’s.’
Billy cleared his throat, stood up straight and looked her in the eyes. ‘I done wrong to go off, Sister,’ he said. ‘Me bruvver told me if I didn’t do what he said he would give me a good hidin’ – but more than that, he threatened to burn you all in your beds. I went ’cos he’s mean enough to do it.’
‘Is that the truth, lad?’ Constable Sallis stepped forward. ‘Don’t be afraid. We’ve no quarrel with you. We’re searching for him and when we find him, we’re going to put him away for a long time.’
‘If he gets out he’ll kill me – like he did me pa.’ He drew a sobbing breath and looked about him wildly. ‘I know he’s a wrong ’un; he’s always been bad and I’m scared of him but that ain’t it …’
‘We understand, Billy,’ Sister said. ‘You don’t want to betray your brother, but it’s what you must do to protect others – isn’t it?’
Billy hesitated, then nodded. ‘Yes, Sister.’
‘If you tell us what you know, we can put him away for a long time, perhaps for good if he’s a murderer.’ The constable frowned. ‘What makes you say he killed your pa?’
‘Pa said he were goin’ ter shop Arfur to the coppers and he said he would do fer him. The next night he were stabbed to death on the Docks. I know it was Arfur, but I ain’t got no proof.’
‘He hasn’t said anything to you to confirm that?’
‘He said if I didn’t behave I might end up like me pa – but he never said for definite that he done it, though I know it was him.’
‘We need something more positive than that, I’m afraid, though we’ll look into it. We’ve suspected him of being a nasty sort for a while. Is there anything more you can tell us, lad?’
‘I know every house he robbed and every item they took and sold. I know who bought the goods and how much Arfur got for them … medals, gold coins, and silver watches. I’ve got a good memory and I remember all of it.’
‘Can you write it all down for me?’
‘It will take me a while, sir, but I can do it.’
‘If you want to tell me, Billy, I will write it all down quicker than you can and then I’ll type it up and deliver it to the police station,’ Angela offered.
‘Yes, miss.’ Billy nodded vigorously, and then looked at the policeman. ‘Will Arfur know it was me that told on him?’
‘Not if we can help it, lad. Once we have the details we can bring pressure to bear – and we may be able to make one of the rogues confess. We shall make some more arrests, because fencing stolen goods is an offence too. So it is unlikely that anyone need ever know where the information came from. If your account of the stolen items matches those from the victims, we shall be sending your brother away for at least twenty years.’
‘Good,’ Billy said. He raised his head, his eyes bright with unshed tears. ‘I ain’t a snitch, but he threatened me friends and he deserves all he gets.’
‘Yes, he does,’ Constable Sallis agreed. He glanced at Angela. ‘If you could get that list done as soon as possible, please?’
‘Yes, of course. Come with me, Billy. We’ll go in my office and do it now.’
‘There’s somethin’ else.’ Billy swallowed hard, then, ‘I saw someone throw them petrol bombs at the boot factory …’
Constable Sallis stared at him hard. ‘Did you see who it was?’
Billy shook his head. ‘He had his face and head covered and it was dark … but I know somethin’ else, only I don’t know if I should say …’
‘Tell the constable everything, Billy,’ Sister Beatrice said. ‘He needs to know whatever it is.’
‘It’s like this.’ Angela thought Billy looked even more scared. ‘Arfur and Jack Shaw done a job on an office safe but the stuff they stole belonged to some dangerous men. They were going to clear off up North, but Jack said they needed the wages from the boot factory before they could go …’
‘What are you saying, lad?’
‘Jack said Butcher Lee would kill them if he found out it was him and Arfur who pinched his stuff. They was both terrified.’
Constable Sallis gave a start. ‘Are you sure he said Butcher?’
‘Yes, they was messin’ their pants over it …’
‘Billy! Language, please.’
‘Sorry, Sister.’
‘This makes it all the more important we catch your brother before they do,’ Constable Sallis said. ‘Don’t worry, lad. What you’ve told us is hearsay and can’t be used in evidence so you won’t have to go to court – but your brother could help us put some murderers behind bars.’ He nodded to Sister Beatrice. ‘I’m relying on you to keep the boy safe until we can sort this business out.’
‘Of course, Constable. Is what he told you so important?’
‘You have no idea how vital it could be,’ the constable told her. He looked at Billy. ‘You can go now, lad – and don’t tell anyone else what you told me. I don’t have to warn you how dangerous it could be.’
‘No, sir.’ Billy hesitated, then, ‘There’s more … when I went in to warn them about the fire I saw a dead man at the bottom of the stairs. Someone must have hit him on the head and he’d bled but he wasn’t bleeding no more … and it weren’t me brother or Jack …’
‘Good grief! You are certain of this, Billy? It changes everything. We thought it was Jack Shaw, but they must have been disturbed and killed whoever it was … and that means Jack Shaw must have got away, because we only found the one body.’ The constable looked at him. ‘You don’t know which one of them killed him?’
‘No, sir. I just saw him lyin’ there, dead …’
‘You’ve done very well,’ Sister said, her face white with shock. ‘This has been very hard for you, Billy, but I think you can go now – and give the information concerning stolen goods to Angela.’
‘Yes, go along, son. You’ve done us a good turn and we shan’t forget it.’
‘Come with me, Billy,’ Angela said.
‘Yes, miss.’ He followed her to the door and then looked back at Sister Beatrice. ‘I’m sorry I caused you so much trouble, Sister.’
‘I am willing to forgive and forget,’ she said. ‘Please come to me in future, Billy. You will find that I am usually willing to listen.’
‘Are you going to let me stay here?’
‘For the time being, yes. However, it will be up to the police and the magistrates, Billy. Because you ran away they may decide you should live elsewhere … that I am not capable of taking care of you properly. You see, your bad behaviour reflects on me.’
‘It weren’t your fault – and if you let me stay, I promise I won’t do it again.’
‘Well, we shall do what we can,’ Sister Beatrice said, looking regretful. ‘I will let you know as soon as we hear – but I can promise you that you will be here for Christmas, whatever else happens.’
‘Thank you,’ he said and followed Angela from the room.
‘I’d better be on my way,’ Constable Sallis said. ‘I’ll put in a good word for him, Sister Beatrice, but I can’t promise. The report will go to the magistrates’ office. They sent him here on probation because he has a reputation for playing truant and running away.’ He shrugged his shoulders. ‘You never know what they
will say.’
‘No, but I shall do my best to keep the child here. Once we have his brother inside, I think he will be no more trouble.’
FORTY
Angela had just finished typing up what Billy had remembered later that morning, when the door of her office opened and Sister Beatrice hovered on the threshold. She took the last page from the typewriter and placed it on top of the pile.
‘Finished?’
‘Yes. Billy has a remarkable memory. I should think he could do very well in class if he set his mind to it. In fact I’ve noticed a small improvement in his speech now and then – haven’t you?’
‘Yes, I believe he is a remarkable child in his way,’ Sister said. ‘I wanted to thank you for your help – really for everything you’ve done since you’ve been here.’
Angela was surprised, even shocked. ‘It was my job – and my pleasure. I’ve enjoyed every moment of my time here. I shall be sorry to leave.’
Sister nodded, hesitated and then turned and left. She’d looked as if she wanted to say more but couldn’t bring herself to do so. Perhaps she believed that it was Angela who should apologise? In her heart, Angela knew it would be correct. She might have the right in principle, but she had been wrong to act so thoughtlessly. Her heart had ruled her head, and Sister had cause to be angry.
Angela stood up and turned to look out at the back gardens. A slight mist hung over everything, moisture dripping from bushes and withered flowers, making it dank and dull. She was restless, unsure of herself or what she wanted to do. Sister had gone a part of the way to apologising in her own fashion. Angela had questioned, she had challenged the older woman’s authority, and, no matter her own views, Sister Beatrice was in charge of the children and the staff.
Wondering what to do for the best, Angela was about to leave the office when the telephone rang. She answered it and smiled as she heard Mark Adderbury’s voice.
‘Mark, how lovely to hear from you.’
‘I’ve finished my appointments early today and I’m going to treat myself to a decent lunch. I don’t suppose you have time to come with me?’