Forgotten Children

by Cathy Sharp

  ‘I stuck my fingers in his eyes and he staggered back and tripped over Marion’s crutch and hit his head. He appears to have passed out, I’m not sure how badly hurt he is – but I hope severely,’ Angela said grimly. ‘He deserves no less after what he did to Billy.’

  ‘And Mary Ellen,’ Billy piped up. ‘He hurt her first because she stopped him stealing the Christmas food.’

  ‘Yes, indeed. I merely came in halfway through,’ Angela said. ‘These children were fighting bravely and by the sound of it they saved more than the Christmas food.’

  ‘Good grief, whatever next?’ Sister said. She held out her hand to Billy. ‘Give me the rolling pin, please.’ He did so and, grasping it firmly in one hand, she bent down on one knee.

  Mary Ellen giggled nervously, because the sight of the stern sister bending over Billy’s brother to feel for a pulse with a rolling pin determinedly clasped in one hand was funny. She tried to contain her mirth as Sister struggled heavily to her feet and nodded.

  ‘Is that your brother, Billy?’

  ‘Yes, Sister. He’s a bad ’un – is he dead?’

  ‘No, just unconscious.’ She broke off as Nan entered the kitchen. ‘Ah, Nan,’ she said pleasantly. ‘Would you mind phoning the police station for us, please? Tell them we have Arthur Baggins here for them and ask them to collect him as soon as possible.’

  Nan stared at her, then at the man lying on the floor. ‘Did you knock him out, Sister?’

  ‘No, but if he wakes before the police arrive, I shall endeavour to do so. It was these brave children who saved both the Christmas food – and St Saviour’s, if his intention was truly to burn us down.’

  ‘Good grief,’ Nan said, looking astonished. ‘Well done, children. I’ll telephone the police immediately.’

  Sister Beatrice nodded and then looked at the children. ‘Perhaps you should go to bed now?’

  ‘Please, Sister,’ Billy said hesitantly. ‘We’d rather wait until the police get here in case he wakes up. It took three of us to tackle him and we were lucky he hit his head when he fell, because he’s vicious.’

  ‘Well, if you insist,’ she said and looked up as Alice walked into the kitchen. ‘Ah, you’ve come to make a cup of tea before you go home, Alice. Perhaps you would make one for all of us?’

  Alice stared at her open-mouthed and Mary Ellen explained it all to her.

  ‘You give me that rolling pin, Sister,’ Alice said fiercely. ‘If he so much as lifts his head, I’ll send him back to sleep for the next year.’

  ‘Yes, well, perhaps it might be more appropriate if I make the tea,’ Sister said and Mary Ellen couldn’t believe it, because her eyes were laughing even though she managed to keep a straight face as Alice took up guard, her expression so grim that Marion started giggling. Mary Ellen pushed her in the back because she was fit to burst and didn’t know how to stop laughing out loud.

  Nan came back and took in the scene, her mouth twitching as she saw Alice standing guard over her victim like an avenging warrior.

  ‘Constable Sallis says they’re sending a Black Maria and half a dozen police constables to fetch him.’ Suddenly, Nan laughed. ‘Do you know, I almost feel sorry for the poor man …’

  The children all started to giggle, and Angela saw the funny side of it too, but Alice didn’t see anything to laugh about. She was obviously taking her duty seriously and even when Sister Beatrice gave them all a cup of tea each, she refused to leave her position. If Arthur was unfortunate enough to raise his head, he would soon feel very sorry for himself … very sorry indeed.

  Fortunately, the police were swiftly on the scene and Arthur was carted off in the back of their van. He was just beginning to come round as they took him out and he started to swear and yell vengeance as the police locked him inside.

  ‘Off to bed with you now,’ Sister said, then, ‘You can each take a mince pie or a sausage roll for being so brave.’

  ‘No, thank you, Sister,’ Mary Ellen said. ‘We’ll wait until everyone has them, because it isn’t fair on the others. That’s why I wasn’t going to let him steal them.’

  ‘I see.’ Sister stared at her for a moment, a strange look in her eyes. ‘I think I may have misjudged you, child – and your friends. Very well, we shall put them back in the pantry until we all share them for tea.’

  Billy looked at Mary Ellen as the three of them left the kitchen. ‘I was so hungry,’ he confessed, ‘but you did right, Mary Ellen. Marion, you ain’t hurt yourself, have you?’

  ‘No, I’m all right,’ she said and smiled, clearly proud of herself. ‘I thought I might fall but I had to stop him hurting Mary Ellen and my crutch is heavy. It frightened me when he fell over my crutch and I thought I’d killed him, though …’

  ‘That wasn’t your fault,’ Mary Ellen asserted. ‘The police should give you a medal, not tell you off.’

  ‘I’m glad they’ve got your brother in custody, Billy,’ Marion said. ‘I hope he stays in prison for a long, long time.’

  ‘So do I,’ Billy said. ‘I’d better get back to the dorm – you two all right together?’

  ‘Yes, we’re all right,’ Mary Ellen said. ‘See you in the morning …’

  ‘Well,’ Sister said when the children had left. ‘I suppose we ought to be thankful you arrived when you did. Those children were very brave but he might have overpowered them and then … it hardly bears thinking about. St Saviour’s might have been burned down and many lives lost.’

  ‘It was pure chance, because I’d just been to the police station with that list of Billy’s and I kept my taxi waiting. Had I walked back I might have been too late …’ Angela said with a little shudder. ‘If I did my bit I’m pleased, but in my opinion it was all down to those children. I’m very proud of them.’

  ‘Yes, indeed. I certainly misjudged them – especially Billy.’

  ‘Well, we all make mistakes,’ Angela said. ‘I certainly do.’

  Sister sat down heavily, her face white as if it had suddenly hit her what might have happened. ‘How could it have been so easy for him to get in? Billy tells me there are several cans of paraffin in the cellar.’ Her hands were shaking. ‘To think the paraffin was there waiting …’

  ‘It would never be hard for a man like that to break in, but I think the caretaker should store his paraffin somewhere else. I suppose he keeps it and the oil lamps in case of electric cuts.’

  Sister nodded. ‘I totally agree that he should keep it elsewhere, under better security. We’ll have something done to make it harder to get in, too. Secure locks on all the downstairs windows, I think, first thing in the morning.’

  ‘If Arthur is in custody, the danger is over. No one else has a grudge against us, why should they? Everyone speaks so highly of you and the work you do. Whenever I ask for money people give what they can – food or goods if they can’t spare money. Look at all the gifts we’ve had this Christmas. Most of the shopkeepers have given us something. I couldn’t believe how kind they were when I asked for funds. Arthur was a spiteful evil man, but the police will put him away for a long time.’

  ‘You may be right, but you can’t be too careful. I shall have more locks fitted just in case.’

  ‘I’m sure Arthur will not escape.’

  ‘Fire … it’s such a terrible way to die.’ Sister Beatrice’s hand was shaking, tears coursing down her cheeks as her words came out of their own volition. ‘I’ve always dreaded it since … such a terrible way to die in a fire …’

  Angela thought she’d never seen Sister Beatrice so disturbed. For a moment she seemed as if she were on the verge of saying more, but she breathed deeply, seemed to take a hold on herself and shook her head, dashing the tears away.

  ‘Such a long time ago …’

  Angela was certain something terrible had once happened to Sister Beatrice or someone she knew, but the woman obviously wasn’t prepared to confide in her and she would not push for her confidences.

  ‘Yes, I know fire is awful, Sister. But
the danger is over, truly it is.’

  ‘How foolish of me.’ Sister Beatrice blew her nose, her head going up as the barriers came down. ‘But we shall take those extra precautions just in case. Well, I shall let you get to bed, Angela.’

  ‘Yes, but I’ll make a cup of tea first …’ Angela hesitated, then, ‘I am very sorry that I flouted your wishes that day, Sister. If you felt humiliated, I ask you to forgive me. I did not do it for that reason – but I could not bear to see Mary Ellen so miserable.’

  Sister Beatrice hesitated in her turn, then, ‘Would you consider forgetting your intention to leave after Christmas?’

  Angela smiled. ‘I already have,’ she said. ‘I think we shall do better together from now on – don’t you?’

  FORTY-TWO

  Mary Ellen and Billy were in the schoolroom, because they both wanted to finish making their Christmas cards for friends and the staff who looked after them. Billy had only just started his when Father Joe came looking for him.

  ‘I’m organising a football match for some East End lads, Billy,’ he said. ‘We’re having a practice this morning and I wondered whether you would like to come and see how you get on as part of the team.’

  ‘Yes please,’ Billy said, springing up eagerly. ‘You don’t mind if I go, do you, Mary Ellen?’

  ‘No, of course not – as long as it won’t get you in trouble with Sister again?’

  Father Joe assured them it would not and took Billy off to join the other boys who were playing that morning. Mary Ellen watched them go a little enviously. She tried to concentrate on colouring her cards, but her thoughts kept drifting away to a previous Christmas when Ma had taken her down Petticoat Lane to buy some bargains as a treat for Rose and her.

  Nan came to the schoolroom soon after Billy left. She spoke to the carer on duty in a low voice and they looked at one another anxiously, before Nan called out Mary Ellen’s name.

  ‘Yes, Nan,’ Mary Ellen said, jumping up from the mat where she’d been playing with the little ones. ‘Did you want me?’

  ‘Your sister Rose is here to see you, my dear,’ Nan said in a gentle voice. ‘I think you had better come down to the hall now, and fetch your coat. I believe your sister wants to take you out for a while.’

  ‘Rose?’ Mary Ellen smiled in excitement. Her postcard two weeks ago promised to come before Christmas, but I thought she’d forgotten.’ She glanced up and felt a tiny prickle at the nape of her neck, because Nan was looking very serious. Surely there was nothing to look serious about just because Rose had come to take her out?

  Nan led the way downstairs. Rose was standing in the hall waiting, and as soon as she looked at her sister’s face, Mary Ellen guessed the truth. Rose’s eyes were all red and so was her nose. A lump came to Mary Ellen’s throat and she wanted to scream, to protest that it couldn’t be true, but she knew in her heart it was. Ma had known she was going to die even before she’d gone to that place.

  Why hadn’t she stayed with Mary Ellen? She would have rather looked after Ma until the end … but of course they would never let her do that in case she picked up her terrible illness. Besides, they wouldn’t have thought her capable of caring for her mother, but at least she would have had those last few precious weeks with her – and now she would never see her again and that hurt so much. Mary Ellen felt as if she were suffocating, her throat tight and her chest hurting as if it were being squeezed.

  Numbed and cold, she walked to Rose and took her hand.

  ‘I’ll bring her back after tea,’ Rose said to Nan, and then they walked out of St Saviour’s together.

  ‘It’s Ma, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes, she’s gone, love. She was too ill. They couldn’t save her.’

  ‘I wish she hadn’t gone away. I wished she’d stayed with us.’

  ‘They said she had to, love. She didn’t have a choice. She could have passed her illness on to others – especially us.’

  She would never again feel her mother’s loving touch or see her smile. Mary Ellen couldn’t bear it. Pain welled up and spilled over as she gave a wail of grief.

  ‘What will happen to me now?’

  Rose stopped walking and turned to face her. ‘You’re all right here, aren’t you? I thought you liked it?’

  ‘I do … it’s all right, but I wanted Ma to get better so I could come home soon.’

  ‘I had to let the house go, and I sold the furniture to pay the expenses, but there’s a box of Ma’s things and you can have your share when you’re older. Anyway, it was a horrid place, damp and smelly. We’ll find somewhere better when I’ve finished my training.’

  ‘Where will you live when you have?’

  ‘I’ll find another house when I’ve saved some money – and then I’ll come and fetch you.’

  ‘You said Ma would come home and I’d live with her. You lied to me. Why did you lie?’ The accusation was there in her voice and her eyes.

  ‘It was what she wanted – what we both hoped. It isn’t my fault, Mary Ellen. I didn’t want her to die.’ Rose looked as if she would cry but blinked hard.

  ‘When did she die?’

  ‘A week ago. We had the funeral yesterday. I couldn’t come and tell you until now, because there was too much to do. Besides, I know it will spoil Christmas for you. I almost waited until after but I couldn’t let Christmas go without seeing you.’

  Rose had known all that time and she hadn’t told her. She’d hardly bothered to visit her and Mary Ellen didn’t trust her. Tears welled up and she scrubbed them away, angry with her sister.

  ‘It doesn’t matter about Christmas. I wanted Ma to come home,’ she yelled and pushed Rose, wanting to hurt her because she’d done this – she’d made her leave her ma and now she was gone and she would never see her again. ‘I hate you. It’s all your fault.’

  ‘For goodness’ sake stop going on about it!’ Rose gave her a shake. ‘We shall both miss her. I wish things were different but they aren’t and there’s nothing we can do about it – it’s just sod’s law, that’s what it is.’

  ‘That’s swearing. Ma would bat your ear if she heard you,’ Mary Ellen said, but she was calmer now the first tantrum was over. ‘I want her … you’re so mean to me and you swear awful.’

  ‘Yes, I know, but sometimes you would try the patience of a saint, Mary Ellen.’ Rose stopped as she saw the tears in her little sister’s eyes begin to flow down her cheeks. ‘No, I didn’t mean that, love. I’m sorry. I know it’s horrid for you having to live in that place – but I have to work hard and take my exams to be a sister so I can make a decent life for us both. I’ve been too busy to visit much, because it’s all more difficult than I thought, and I had to visit Ma sometimes and see to things … but I will come more in future; once a month, I promise. Please try to understand. You’re all I’ve got now … don’t make it worse for me.’

  ‘You won’t just forget me and leave me there?’

  Rose got down on her knee in the street, her hands on Mary Ellen’s shoulders and looking into her face. ‘I promise I shall never abandon you, love. You are my sister and I care about you. As soon as I can afford it I’ll get a place we can be together. In the meantime you have to promise me to work hard at your schooling so you can get a good job one day. Ma would want you to get on, you know she would.’

  ‘I want to be a teacher and look after little ones,’ Mary Ellen said shyly. ‘I thought I wanted to be a nurse like you, but I’m good at reading and teaching others to read and learn things – so I’m going to go to college and be a teacher.’

  ‘Ma would be proud of you for wanting to do that,’ Rose said and stood up again. ‘I haven’t bought you a present, Mary Ellen. I thought I would take you out somewhere instead – the pictures and tea at Lyons if you like?’

  ‘I don’t want to miss the carols and Father Christmas.’

  ‘We won’t bother with tea then,’ Rose smiled. ‘Don’t worry, I’ve been invited to join in the fun so we’ll be back before six when it
all starts.’

  Mary Ellen looked up at her. ‘Can we look at the Christmas windows up West and then … could we go to a pantomime?’

  ‘A pantomime?’ Rose nodded. ‘Yes, if we can get into the early show. A bit of nonsense might cheer us both up. We’ll go up West and look at the displays in the toyshops … like we did when Pa was alive, remember? He couldn’t buy us much but he stood with us for ages while we watched the automatons in the windows.’ Mary Ellen nodded. ‘And then we’ll see if we can get in the cheap seats at one of the pantomimes. I think Mother Goose is on this year …’

  FORTY-THREE

  Angela glanced around her office and gave a sigh of satisfaction. She’d finished all the work she’d set herself to do before she went home for Christmas and would have a fresh start when she got back. Her case was packed and her gifts for her family were inside it. She’d given gifts to the staff and small things for every child in the home were on the Christmas tree. Her heart had urged her to buy something special for Mary Ellen, but she’d remembered Sister’s words of warning about having favourites and stuck to little presents for all of them.

  Now all she had to do was go down and join the others for the Christmas carols and the party, and then Mark would take her home. A frown creased her brow as she felt faintly uneasy about what she would find. The feeling that something was wrong had been growing steadily since her father’s telephone call. He was anxious about something and she had a horrid suspicion it might be to do with her mother; there was nothing she could put her finger on, and the charity dance had been splendid, but little things … all that new stuff in the wardrobe and most of it the kind of thing that her mother would never wear …

  Oh, well, whatever it was she would face it when it came, just as her father was having to. A sigh left her lips but then her frown lifted. At least she would see something of Mark this holiday, because she’d invited him to lunch on Christmas Day. She smiled because she was looking forward to just being with him, listening to carols on the radio and enjoying a glass of wine in the peace of the afternoon.