The Christmas Card

by Dilly Court

  ‘You should have sent word that you were coming.’ The woman threw back her hood to reveal a fine-boned face with pale skin and hooded eyes that seemed to bore into Alice’s soul. ‘I am Miss Millington, the principal, and you are …?’

  ‘Alice Cotton.’

  Miss Millington’s tightly drawn skin formed a semblance of a frown. ‘I have you down as Agnes.’

  ‘I never liked the name. I choose to be known as Alice.’

  ‘That sounds like pure vanity to me, Miss Cotton. We don’t encourage our girls to be vain or to think too highly of themselves. Humility, modesty and obedience are the attributes we encourage in our pupils. Discipline is strict here and rebellion quickly crushed. We are educating the future mothers of our glorious Empire, who will do their duty and obey their husbands in all things. Wayward spirits have to be humbled. Do you understand what I’m saying?’

  ‘I most certainly do,’ Alice said, biting back angry words.

  ‘Follow me.’ Miss Millington headed towards the stairs, but the sudden clanging of a bell shattered the silence and she came to a halt, turning her head to glance at Alice. ‘The noon bell summons the girls to the refectory. Their lives are governed by that sound, as you will soon discover.’

  Alice waited at her side, listening to the sound of approaching footsteps, which grew louder until the thunder of marching feet was almost deafening. Lines of children appeared from all directions, walking two by two like an army of small soldiers. Their heads were bent as they moved, neither looking to the left nor the right, and the youngest came first. They’re little more than babies, Alice thought with a stirring of emotion. They looked too young and defenceless to be away from the nursery, let alone sent to survive in this inhospitable place. The older girls followed in total silence, and what struck Alice the most was the fact that they seemed to have been stripped of their identities. Their plain grey cotton frocks were worn with starched white pinafores and their hair confined to goffered mobcaps. With their hands clasped tightly in front of them they reminded Alice of the cut-out paper dolls she had made as a child, each one identical to its neighbour. She searched in vain for Flora but it was impossible to tell one from another, and her heart ached for the lively, spirited little girl who had come to mean so much to her, but had seemingly been swallowed up in this amorphous mass of downtrodden children.

  Miss Millington stood to attention as they passed, like a general reviewing his troops, and when the last pupil disappeared from sight she ascended the stairs, motioning Alice to follow.

  ‘You will take dining-room duty at mealtimes,’ she said curtly. ‘But you may begin with supper this evening. Until then you will familiarise yourself with the layout of the school and study the set of rules, which you will find pinned to your door.’

  ‘Yes, Miss Millington.’ Alice had the distinct impression that the discipline for the teachers was just as strict as that suffered by the pupils. She quickened her pace in an attempt to keep up with Miss Millington’s long strides, and at the end of a long corridor they came to the room that had been allocated to the unfortunate Miss Cotton.

  ‘This is where you will reside,’ Miss Millington said, thrusting the door open. ‘Your trunk will be sent up directly. My office is on the ground floor; anyone will direct you there. You’ll find a timetable on the chest of drawers.’

  Alice glanced round the room, which would have delighted Aunt Jane in its austerity. The chill in the air made her shiver. ‘Might I have coal and kindling?’ she asked boldly. ‘It’s rather cold in here.’

  ‘There is a fire in the staff common room. You’ll find that on the ground floor next to the refectory, but that doesn’t mean you can idle away your time there. I expect teachers to work hard, Miss Cotton. The students work even harder.’

  Miss Millington strode away and Alice found herself alone in a cell-like room. Snow had obliterated most of the view from the window, frosting the small panes and leaving just a small clear space in the centre of each. She tested the bed, and found, as expected, that it was not designed for comfort. The mattress was hard and sagged in the middle as if the previous occupant was a much larger and heavier person than she. The chest of drawers was placed beneath the window and on it stood a single brass candlestick. The stub of the candle would not last long but she struck a match and lit it anyway. At least she could see to read the timetable, although the list of school rules pinned to the inside of the door would take much longer to absorb. She took off her gloves and laid her mantle on the back of the wooden chair together with her bonnet. There was no sign of Miss Cotton’s trunk and when it arrived at last Alice realised that she did not have the key. Frustrated but more interested in finding Flora than investigating Miss Cotton’s belongings, Alice left her room and headed downstairs in search of the refectory.

  Faced with a maze of passages leading off the entrance hall, Alice tried to remember which way the children had been heading; she instinctively turned one way and was rewarded by the smell of food. It was not particularly appetising and the uppermost odour was that of boiled cabbage, but she was hungry and she quite literally followed her nose. She had hoped to hear the sound of childish voices as the students enjoyed their meal, but the chilling silence persisted, broken only by the echoing pitter-patter of her feet on the hard stone floor. It came as something of a shock to hear muffled sobs and she came to a sudden halt outside a door that had been left ajar. Pushing it open, she could see a small girl standing on a stool in the corner of a deserted classroom. On her head she wore a conical dunce’s cap, and she was swaying on her feet.

  Alice rushed towards the child in time to catch her as she collapsed. ‘You poor little thing,’ she said, holding her close. She sat on the stool rocking the little girl in her arms. ‘There, there, you’re all right now.’

  ‘Miss Cotton, what is the meaning of this?’ Miss Millington burst into the room, standing arms akimbo, her eyes blazing. ‘How dare you interfere? This has nothing to do with you.’

  Alice hugged the child closer. ‘The poor little mite was about to faint, ma’am. What has she done to merit such cruel treatment?’

  ‘Mary Morgan is disruptive in class. She is idle and refuses to learn.’

  ‘She can’t be more than five or six years of age, Miss Millington. She’s little more than a babe.’

  ‘Children her age still work in the cotton mills, but Mary is lazy and needs to be punished. Put her down, Miss Cotton. I will deal with her now.’

  ‘I think she has suffered enough,’ Alice said slowly. ‘I believe she will remember this always.’ She set Mary on her feet and stood up, resting her hands on the child’s shoulders. ‘Perhaps I could give her some extra tuition this afternoon. She could show me round the school in return.’

  Miss Millington hesitated, visibly bristling like an irate hedgehog. ‘Very well, but you will both miss luncheon. Perhaps an empty stomach will make Mary more receptive to learning.’ She pointed a long thin finger at the trembling child. ‘You have Miss Cotton to thank for your reprieve, but misbehave in class again and you will be caned. Do you understand?’

  Mary gulped and nodded. ‘Yes, miss.’

  ‘Remember what I said, you stupid child.’ Miss Millington left the room as abruptly as she had entered.

  ‘Well, then,’ Alice said, bending down to wipe Mary’s tears away with her own handkerchief, ‘you’re going to spend the afternoon with me, my dear.’

  Mary eyed her warily. ‘Yes, miss.’

  Alice raised her hand to pat Mary on the shoulder and the child flinched. ‘There’s no need to be afraid. I won’t hurt you.’ Alice gazed at the small upturned face with a feeling of dismay. There was no call for gratuitous physical violence against a child of this age, even though she knew that corporal punishment was commonly used in schools all over the country. Perhaps wayward young boys benefited from the strap, although she doubted it, but tiny undernourished little girls like Mary needed to be treated with kindness and patience in order to flourish.
She could only hope that Flora had fared better.

  ‘I’m hungry, miss,’ Mary whispered.

  ‘Well, so am I. Let’s see if we can find something to eat.’

  ‘I’m not allowed in the dining room, miss. I’ve been bad.’

  ‘Miss Millington said you were to show me round the school. Let’s start with the kitchen, shall we?’ Alice plucked the dunce’s cap from Mary’s head and tossed it into the wastepaper basket, and as she did so she spotted the cane hanging from the wall above the blackboard. She was even more certain that this was not the place for Flora, or any child, if it came to that. She took Mary by the hand and led her from the classroom. Her priority now was to see that the small girl was fed and comforted after her ordeal, but then she must look for Flora and work out a way to escape from their snowbound prison. It was not going to be easy.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Mary was not very articulate but she managed to take Alice to the kitchen, where a surprised cook was persuaded to give them two bowls of thin soup and a couple of slices of bread, thinly spread with butter. Judging by the looks given them by the other two women who worked there it was the first time anyone had had the temerity to make such a request, but Alice did not care. Her main aim was to feed poor half-starved Mary and to keep her from Miss Millington’s gaze for the rest of the day.

  With a full belly Mary was much more cheerful and able to show Alice round the ground floor where most of the classrooms were situated, but the tour came to an abrupt end at the sound of a bell, which summoned the children back to lessons. Alice took Mary to the staff common room where she introduced herself as Miss Cotton. There were only two teachers present, a tall angular woman who introduced herself as Miss Stamp, teacher of mathematics and divinity, and the other woman was Miss Oglethorpe, whose subjects were history and geography.

  Miss Stamp eyed Alice curiously. ‘So you’re the new English teacher. I hope you’re good at art and sewing as well. We haven’t had anyone who specialises in those subjects for years.’

  ‘No,’ Miss Oglethorpe added in a low voice. ‘They don’t last long here on the moor. No one does.’

  ‘Except for us.’ Miss Stamp put her arm around her colleague’s shoulders and gave her a hug. ‘We’ve got nowhere else to go, have we, Oggy?’

  ‘Be careful, Stamp,’ Miss Oglethorpe said, glancing nervously at Alice. ‘We don’t know the enemy yet.’

  ‘The real enemy are disgusting little creatures like that one there,’ Miss Stamp said, pointing at Mary, who cowered against Alice, clutching her skirt as if afraid they might be forcibly parted.

  ‘Yes, indeed,’ Miss Oglethorpe agreed. ‘They make our lives a misery. Add that to the cold and bleakness of the moors in winter and the appalling diet – this place is not fit for anyone.’

  ‘So why are you here?’ Alice asked curiously. ‘It does seem an inhospitable place.’

  ‘Can’t get jobs elsewhere,’ Miss Stamp said, adjusting her tie. ‘Come on, Oggy. Back to the battlefield. I’ve got your class for mathematics; might as well try to teach cats to fly. Good luck to you, Cotton. You’ll need it.’ She glowered at Mary. ‘And you should think yourself lucky, Morgan. If it were up to me you’d wear the dunce’s cap day in and day out.’

  Alice opened her mouth to protest but Miss Oglethorpe propelled her forthright friend out of the room, allowing the door to swing shut behind them. Mary was sobbing quietly and Alice sat down on the nearest chair, taking the little girl onto her lap. ‘Don’t cry, dear. I myself am very bad at mathematics, but we’re all good at something. You’ll find out what you’re good at as time goes by.’ She could tell that Mary had not really understood a word, but she laid her head on Alice’s shoulder and within minutes was fast asleep. When she was certain that Mary would not awaken easily Alice laid her on the sofa and moved silently to the window. It was snowing in earnest and the world outside was a whirling white wilderness. She had initially planned to leave as soon as she had satisfied herself that Flora had settled into life at the school, but judging by the treatment Mary had received and her first impression of the staff at Willoughby Hall, Alice had already decided that this was most definitely not the place for Flora. She would worry about Mr Dearborn’s reaction later. She spun round at the sound of the door being thrust open.

  A small girl flew into the common room. ‘What have you done with my friend?’ she cried angrily.

  ‘Flora.’ Alice moved out of the shadows. ‘It’s me, Alice.’

  ‘Alice is in London,’ Flora said suspiciously. ‘You look a bit like her, but it’s a trick.’

  Shocked to see Flora looking so pale and thin, Alice held out her arms. ‘It is me, Flora. I’ve come to take you away from this dreadful place.’ She staggered backwards as Flora threw herself at her.

  ‘It really is you, Alice? I’m not dreaming?’

  ‘No, dear. I’m here to take you home.’

  ‘I knew you would,’ Flora said, wrapping her arms around Alice’s neck. ‘I was certain you’d come.’ She glanced over her shoulder. ‘What did they do to Mary? Did they beat her?’

  ‘No, Flora. I came across her in time to prevent any further punishment. She’s been with me all afternoon.’

  Mary stirred and opened her eyes. ‘Flora?’

  ‘I came to find you, Mary. I won’t let them hurt you.’ Flora disengaged herself from Alice’s arms and went to sit beside her friend. ‘Are you all right?’

  ‘I am now.’ Mary tucked her small hand into Flora’s, looking up at her with adoring eyes.

  ‘You’ll have to take both of us,’ Flora said, raising her chin with the stubborn look that Alice knew of old. ‘I’m not leaving her here with these bullies. She’s got no one, Alice. She’s an orphan and her guardian put her here because he can’t be bothered with her.’

  ‘That’s terrible, but I can’t kidnap her. The police would come after us.’

  Mary began to weep silently and Flora rose to her feet. She seized Alice by the hand, gripping her fingers with surprising strength for someone so small. ‘You don’t understand. I listen to the big girls talking at night in the dormitory. This is a place where rich people send the children they don’t want. Some of them haven’t been home since they got here, and they know they won’t have anywhere to go when they leave. They’ll be sent out as governesses or teachers in missionary schools as soon as they’re old enough.’

  ‘I can’t believe that,’ Alice said stoutly. ‘It’s certainly not what your pa had in mind for you.’

  ‘I know that, but it’s what will happen to Mary if we leave her here.’ Flora’s eyes filled with tears. ‘You’ll have to go without me if you won’t take her with us.’

  Alice stroked Flora’s flushed cheek, wiping away a teardrop. ‘I’ll give it some thought, but getting away from here is going to be difficult. Travelling on the moor must be almost impossible by now, and I’m masquerading as Miss Cotton, the new English mistress. I’ll have to keep it up for a day or two while I try to think of a way out of this.’

  Flora wiped her eyes on the back of her hand. ‘You’re wonderful, Alice. You’ll work out a way to save us.’

  A sound outside the door made Alice turn with a start. ‘Someone’s coming. Go along with what I say and do, Flora. They mustn’t find out that we know each other.’ She grabbed her by the ear as the door opened to admit Miss Millington.

  ‘What is going on here?’

  ‘I found this child wandering about, ma’am,’ Alice said curtly. ‘I’ll take her back to her classroom.’ She beckoned to Mary. ‘Come along, Morgan. We have work to do this afternoon. Follow me.’

  Flora yelped and protested loudly as Alice dragged her out into the corridor. ‘All right,’ Alice whispered. ‘Don’t overdo it, Flora.’ She smiled down at Mary, whose lips trembled ominously. ‘We’re only play-acting. I’m pretending to be cross with Flora.’

  Flora rubbed her ear, grinning ruefully. ‘That hurt.’

  Alice shooed them along the wide passag
e away from the common room. ‘It had to look real. Where are you supposed to be, Flora?’

  ‘Miss Oglethorpe’s class,’ she replied, hanging her head. ‘Can’t we go now, Alice? I’d rather brave the snow than stay here another day.’

  ‘We’ll leave as soon as possible, but till then you must keep up the act. Now lead on. I’ll tell your teacher that you’ve been severely reprimanded.’

  ‘I could get locked in the cellar all night for what I just did.’

  ‘That won’t happen, I promise you.’ Alice said firmly. She took Mary by the hand. ‘Don’t be afraid.’

  Life in Willoughby Hall was just as bad as depicted by Flora. The discipline was harsh, and meted out with such relish by those in charge that Alice was beginning to think they took a sadistic pleasure in treating children in such a barbaric fashion. It was heartrending to see young girls cowed into submission, their personalities suppressed and crushed to the extent that they became virtual automatons. The strongest characters would survive, but the more timid girls were afraid of their own shadows. Alice longed to throw the doors open and release them all like caged birds, although she doubted if those who had been there longest would be able to fly. She could foresee a bleak future for the meekest and most biddable children, especially those bullied from an early age, knowing nothing else. They would be the browbeaten wives and mothers of years to come, or pale spinsters left to care for elderly parents, or put-upon companions to the lonely rich.

  A week went by and there was no sign of a thaw and no danger of the real Miss Cotton making a sudden appearance as the roads were virtually impassable. At the end of the second week Miss Millington announced to the staff that supplies were running low and food would be rationed. Alice thought privately that it would make little difference. Their diet was frugal enough at the best of times, and the children were painfully thin as a result. She had seen better fed street arabs than the daughters of parents wealthy enough to afford the fees at Willoughby Hall.