She sighed and slipped her hand into Grace’s. Her sister looked up at her with a flushed face and glassy eyes. Katie silently mouthed, Don’t worry. It will be all right.
Grace leaned in closer, resting her head against Katie’s arm. Thank goodness they were making this journey together. She couldn’t imagine traveling without her sister or sending her off alone.
The whistle blew. The train jerked and rolled forward. Katie gripped the edge of the seat with one hand while she held tight to Grace with the other. The car rocked and swayed as the train left the station and picked up speed. Soon they were rolling down the track, racing past buildings and crossing the river on a bridge that looked too narrow to keep them from falling into the water.
The other girls’ faces glowed with excitement as they watched the city pass by, but all Katie could think about was everything they were leaving behind.
Where was Garth? How would she find him? And what about Laura? What would she think when she received the letter telling her the three of them had left for Canada? Would she ever see her brother and sister again?
* * *
Laura clutched Mum’s letters in her hand and walked down the main hall at Grangeford. Would the heartfelt message convince the matron to change her mind and allow a visit? If only she could have a few minutes with Katie and Grace, she could let them know Mum would soon be leaving the hospital, and Laura was looking for a new position in London. Surely knowing they wouldn’t have to stay at Grangeford too much longer would ease their minds and give them hope.
As she passed the main staircase, girls’ voices floated down from the floor above, reciting mathematic facts. Laura approached the matron’s door and knocked twice. She waited a few seconds, but no one answered.
Footsteps sounded down the hall, and Laura turned. Two girls walked toward her, each carrying a mop and a bucket of gray water. As they came closer, they watched Laura with suspicious looks.
“Excuse me.” Laura smiled, hoping to put them at ease. “I’m looking for Mrs. Stafford. She doesn’t seem to be in her office. Do you know where I might find her?”
The taller girl exchanged a glance with the other, then turned back to Laura. “Sorry, miss, we don’t know.”
“Is there someone else I could speak to, perhaps an assistant?”
The shorter girl shifted her bucket to the other hand, and some of the water sloshed over the side and dripped to the floor. “Mrs. Hastings is her assistant, but she’s not here. Maybe you could speak to Miss Richter. She’s one of the teachers.”
“Could you tell me where to find her?”
The taller girl glanced down the hallway. “Her classroom is the second door on the right.”
“Thank you.” Perhaps these girls could tell her more or even deliver the letters to her sisters. “I’ve come to visit Grace and Katie McAlister. Do you know them?”
They exchanged wary glances again, and the taller girl adjusted her hold on the mop. “They’re not here anymore.”
Laura’s eyes widened, and she stared at her. “What?”
“They left with the other girls who are going to Canada.”
Laura tensed. “No, you must be mistaken. They couldn’t send them to Canada without our mother’s permission. She would never agree to that.”
The girl shrugged. “All I know is, they left with Mrs. Hastings and four other girls.”
Laura slowly shook her head. This couldn’t be true. Katie and Grace couldn’t have been sent so far away.
A middle-aged woman with dark brown hair stepped out a doorway just down the hall. Her gaze darted from Laura to the girls. “Is everything all right, Elsa?”
“Yes ma’am.”
Laura turned and faced the woman. “I’m Laura McAlister. I’m looking for my sisters, Katie and Grace McAlister.”
The woman nodded. “I know Katie and Grace.”
“Oh, thank goodness! I was so worried. They said my sisters had left Grangeford.”
The woman shifted her gaze toward the girls. “You may be excused from mopping the hall. Go back to your other duties.”
“Yes ma’am.” They turned away, whispering to each other as they set off.
The woman stepped into the hallway and shut the door behind her. “I’m Miss Richter. And I’m afraid what the girls told you is true. Katie and Grace left with an emigration party last week.”
Laura gasped. “Why would you send them away?”
Miss Richter straightened. “I’m sorry. I don’t know the particulars of their situation. You’ll have to speak to Mrs. Stafford, the matron, for those details.”
“She’s not in her office. I knocked on her door, but she didn’t answer.”
“Oh yes, that’s right. She is out for the day, but she’ll be back tomorrow.”
“This can’t wait until tomorrow! My sisters should never have left Grangeford! We had no warning, no opportunity to pay their fees and bring them home.”
The teacher stepped back, obviously wanting to put distance between herself and Laura. “Miss McAlister, I know this is upsetting news. I’m sure that when you come back and speak to Mrs. Stafford, she will explain everything.”
“Oh, I’ll come back, you can be sure of it! You had no right to send them anywhere, especially not to Canada!”
“Please, Miss McAlister, calm yourself!”
“How can I be calm when my sisters have been stolen away and sent to a foreign land!”
A man carrying a toolbox stepped through the doorway at the end of the hall and walked toward them. He was the one who had greeted her at the gate on her first visit to Grangeford.
The teacher turned toward him. “Mr. Peterson, this is Miss McAlister. We’ve finished our discussion. Will you please show her out?” The woman’s firm tone matched her rigid posture.
The man’s gaze darted from Miss Richter to Laura. “Yes ma’am.” He touched the brim of his cap, then motioned down the hall. “This way, miss.”
Laura’s throat burned. “This is wrong, terribly wrong, and you know it!”
Miss Richter’s face flushed, but she didn’t answer. Instead, she stepped into her classroom and closed the door.
“Come along, miss.” Mr. Peterson tilted his head toward the main door, compassion in his eyes. “Miss Richter can’t help you. She’s not the one who makes decisions ’round here.”
Mr. Peterson started down the hall, and Laura reluctantly fell in step beside him. “They sent my sisters to Canada without our permission! How could they do that when they have family members who want to care for them? It’s a terrible mistake!”
“I believe Katie asked to go.”
Laura’s steps faltered. “You spoke to my sister about this?”
He nodded, his expression somber.
“But why? Why would she want to go?”
“She wasn’t too keen on the idea at first, but then she heard her brother was going, so she thought she should go too.”
Laura’s heart sank. “Garth is gone as well?”
“I believe so, but you’ll have to check with the staff at the boys’ home to be sure.”
Her mind spun as they continued down the hall. Why would Garth want to go to Canada? Didn’t he realize she was doing everything she could to bring them all home?
When they reached the main door, Mr. Peterson pushed it open for her. “I’m real sorry, Miss McAlister. I thought you knew they were going. Katie wrote to you.”
Laura shook her head. “I never received her letter.” She stopped in the doorway as the truth became clear. Katie had sent the letter to Bolton, and the staff had held it there, expecting Laura to return.
Poor Katie! She’d been torn and needing her sister’s advice, but she’d never received a reply. No wonder she’d asked to go to Canada with Garth. She probably thought he was the only one left who cared
about her. Hot tears filled Laura’s eyes, and she lifted her hand to cover her mouth.
“Oh no, miss. Don’t cry.” He pulled a folded handkerchief from his pocket and pressed it into her hand. “Here, take this.”
“Thank you.” She sniffed and blotted her cheeks. “When will the ship set sail?”
“I don’t know. All the girls go through the Hughes Home in Liverpool first.”
“How long do they stay there?”
“Some stay a few months for training. Others board a ship within a few weeks or days. It all depends on the sailing schedule and the number of children and escorts in each emigration party.”
Laura’s thoughts raced ahead. “So there might still be time to speak to someone at the Hughes Home and bring them back to London.”
He sent her a worried glance. “I don’t know about that, miss.”
“I have to try. I can’t just give up and let them be sent across the ocean.”
“Don’t go alone, miss. I doubt they’d listen to you unless you take an older male relative or you have some sort of legal papers to prove you can claim them.”
She had no male family members living in London and no guardianship papers.
Andrew Frasier’s offer of help came to mind once again. She didn’t like the idea of being indebted to him, but what other option did she have? She needed his advice and assistance if she was going to rescue her siblings and bring them back to London before they boarded a ship for Canada.
She reached out and touched the old man’s jacket sleeve. “Thank you, Mr. Peterson. I appreciate your kindness.”
His shook his head as he slipped his hands in his jacket pockets. “You’ve no cause to thank me. I’ve done nothing.”
“But you have. You helped me when no one else would.” She leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “God bless you, sir.”
His ears turned pink, and a smile creased his whiskered face. “I hope you find them and that the folks at Hughes will listen.”
Laura nodded, her throat so tight she could barely speak. “So do I.” Then she reached in her pocket, took out Andrew Frasier’s card, and started down the drive.
* * *
Andrew scanned the next page of notes Henry had given him to review. The articles and interviews gave a great deal of helpful information about child emigration. Some said it was a wonderful opportunity for Britain’s poor children to have a fresh start and hope for a better future. Others thought it was a national disgrace, and they insisted most of the children were treated no better than slaves. Both opinions couldn’t be right. There obviously needed to be an independent investigation that would establish the truth and make sound recommendations for the future. He was glad he and Henry were taking this on.
He sat back, perplexed by the wide range of opinions. When he and his mother had heard Dr. Barnardo speak and listened to the children’s voices raised in song, they’d both been deeply touched. Tears had shimmered in his mother’s eyes, and he’d reached for his wallet, eager to give toward Dr. Barnardo’s work. He had to admit he believed the positive reports about the man, and he admired his dedication to helping London’s poor and orphaned children.
There would always be those who exaggerated the negative side of every issue and made a huge fuss about small matters. Still, he needed to have an open mind and let the facts speak for themselves.
He and Henry planned to visit two children’s homes that afternoon. He looked down and checked the names—Grangeford and Barkingside. Their visits were purposely unscheduled, with the hope that a surprise visit would allow them to see a true picture of how the homes were run and how the children were treated.
Andrew ran his finger down the list of homes Henry wanted to visit before they left for Canada. There were five more in London and three in Liverpool. Would they have enough time to see them all before their ship sailed?
Jonathan Phillips, Henry’s assistant, was still working on their travel arrangements. It seemed odd he hadn’t been able to confirm the date for their departure. How difficult could it be to purchase tickets?
A knock sounded at his door.
“Come in,” Andrew called.
Phillips leaned around the door. “Mr. Dowd would like to see you in his office.”
“Thank you.” Andrew rose from his desk and followed Phillips into the reception area. The young man took a seat and shifted some files to cover a newspaper on his desk.
Andrew frowned as he passed Phillips. Why was he reading the newspaper when he ought to be working on their travel arrangements? Andrew blew out a breath, trying to let go of his irritation. The timing of their trip was in the Lord’s hands, and no irresponsible assistant would keep them from setting sail on the appointed day.
He proceeded into Henry’s office. “You wanted to see me?”
Henry looked up and set aside his pen. “Yes. I received a letter from Reginald Hayworth.”
“The legal assistant to the home secretary?”
“Yes. He’s eager to hear more about our assessment of Jansen’s preliminary work. He’d like to meet with us before we leave for Canada. I thought I’d suggest Monday afternoon. That would give us time to visit one or two of the children’s homes in the morning.”
Andrew nodded. “That sounds like a good plan.”
“All right. I’ll have Phillips send a reply to Hayworth.” Henry rose and reached for his suit jacket. “Are you ready to go?”
“Yes, I just need to collect my hat from my office.” Andrew followed Henry out the door. As they rounded the corner to the reception area, he spotted Phillips sitting with his feet propped up on the desk, reading the newspaper. As soon as Phillips saw them coming, he lowered his feet and stuffed the newspaper under the desk.
Frowning, Henry stopped by his assistant’s desk. “Mr. Phillips, we’re going out, and we don’t plan to return until four o’clock. By that time I expect you to have confirmed our travel arrangements. If that means leaving the office to pick up our tickets, then please do so.”
A muscle twitched in Phillips’s cheek, betraying his irritation. “I’ll take care of it, sir.”
“I’d also like you to send a message to Mr. Reginald Hayworth. Tell him Mr. Frasier and I are available to meet with him on Monday afternoon at one o’clock if that’s a convenient time for him. Ask the messenger to wait for a reply.”
“Yes sir.”
Henry studied Phillips for a moment, looking as though he wanted to say more, but he turned to Andrew. “Why don’t you collect your things and meet me downstairs?”
Andrew agreed and returned to his office, giving Henry a moment to speak to Phillips in private. This wasn’t the first time Henry’s assistant had been reprimanded for laziness or coming in late and looking as though he’d had too much to drink the night before. Andrew shook his head. That young man needed to change his ways, or his days of working for Henry were numbered. The fact that he was Henry’s distant cousin was the only reason he’d been allowed so many chances to mend his ways and hold on to his position.
He took his notebook and pen from his desk, then collected his hat from the hook by the door.
As he walked out of his office, he glanced at Phillips. The young man sat at his desk, looking down at something in his lap. Andrew quietly walked closer and spotted the Tatler newspaper resting on his knees. Of all the nerve!
Phillips looked up, but he didn’t bother to hide the newspaper or appear ashamed at being caught reading it again. “Did you want something, Mr. Frasier?”
“Yes, I want to see you doing your work rather than reading that gossip rag.”
Phillips leaned back in his chair. “I don’t answer to you. Mr. Dowd is my employer.”
“That may be true, but if you want to keep your position, I suggest you toss out that newspaper and finish your assignment. This trip to Canada is important. We ne
ed those arrangements settled as soon as possible.”
Phillips’s face reddened, but his expression remained defiant. “You always act so righteous, so high and mighty, but you’re no better than I am.”
Andrew leveled his gaze at Phillips. “You’d get a lot further in life if you’d treat others with respect and do an honest day’s work.”
“What are you—a Sunday school teacher?” Phillips huffed, and his voice turned taunting. “You better hurry along now. You don’t want to keep Mr. Dowd waiting.”
Andrew sent him a final scathing look and strode out of the office, his opinion of Phillips dipping to a new low. Laziness was one thing, but rude and disrespectful behavior was entirely another.
* * *
Laura glanced at Andrew Frasier’s card and checked the address once more. She continued down the street a few more minutes and finally spotted the sign for the law office of Mr. Henry Dowd posted by the door of a large limestone building.
She rested her hand over her fluttering stomach and pulled in a deep breath. She could do this. Her family needed legal help, and she knew only one solicitor…Andrew Frasier.
She returned the card to her coat pocket, mounted the steps, and entered the building. The sign in the lobby listed his office on the second floor. She smoothed her hand down the front of her coat, adjusted her hat, and climbed the stairs.
Only four offices were on the second floor. She approached his door, knocked, and waited. Someone called, “It’s open,” and she stepped inside.
A young man seated in the reception area looked up. His sullen expression faded as she approached. “Well, hello there, miss.”
His quick smile and informal greeting surprised her, but she tried to look confident as she met his gaze. “Good afternoon. My name is Laura McAlister. I’d like to see Mr. Andrew Frasier.”
“Do you have an appointment?”
“No sir, but I believe he’ll want to see me.”
He cocked one eyebrow and grinned. “I’m sure he would.”
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