by Linda Finlay
Sarah stared at his departing back in dismay. ‘But I only said …’
‘Seems you and he have got off on the wrong foot,’ the housekeeper sighed. ‘Oh well, we must press on. It’s all right, young Maisie,’ she crooned to the tiny girl who, on hearing raised voices, had cowered in the corner. ‘Come on, supper’s ready, so you can help me summon everyone indoors.’ She smiled, and Maisie ran into the hall, picked up the striker and began beating the brass gong with all her might.
As Sarah walked through to the adjoining room, she found the pupils standing quietly behind their chairs. April was at the head of the girls’ table, the new little girl by her side, whilst Pip was clearly in charge of the boys.
‘Right, children, the doctor and Master Higgins are not joining us today so I shall say grace. Before I do, I would like to introduce Miss Sullivan who has come to help the doctor. I’d like you to welcome her and help her settle in.’
‘Welcome, Miss Sullivan,’ they chanted.
‘Thank you, everyone,’ Sarah said, smiling around at the children, who were eying the food hungrily, impatient to begin eating.
‘Right, hands together and close your eyes,’ Mrs Daws instructed. No sooner had she finished the short prayer of thanks than there was a scraping of chairs on the floor as the children sat down to eat. They had clearly been taught well, for their manners were good and they ate in silence. Together, Sarah and April looked after the new little girl and were gratified to see her eat something. It seemed no time at all before the sandwiches had been devoured and the children were sitting with their arms folded, ready to leave the table.
‘Goodness, I am impressed,’ Sarah said, as she watched them clearing away. Some stayed to help in the kitchen while others went outside to tend the garden.
‘Well, as soon as they’ve finished their evening chores they have a free period before bed so they know what side their bread’s buttered, if you’ll excuse the pun. As the days are long and full, we all turn in about 7 p.m. I for one will be pleased to see my bed tonight.’
True to her word, no sooner had Mrs Daws’ head touched the pillow than she was asleep. As gentle snores emanated around the room, Sarah lay back reflecting on the day. And what a traumatic day it had been, she thought. She’d had her bag stolen and now had to wear cast-off clothing, but that was nothing compared to what that poor little soul had witnessed on the beach. Whilst Sarah had kept her promise to return, in the few short hours she’d been here, she’d managed to fall out with the schoolmaster and upset her godfather. She sighed into the darkness. Hadn’t her father taught her to keep her own counsel?
She stiffened suddenly, thinking she’d heard someone crying out. Propping herself up on her elbow, she listened intently, but the only sound was the creaking of the old house as it settled for the night. Then, as the housekeeper’s snores reached a crescendo, she shrugged, lay back down and pulled the thin cover over her head. What wouldn’t she give to be back in her own, quiet little room in Plymouth. Perhaps she could return, for what qualities did she really have to help with the running of the school or its children, come to that?
Then she heard something scrabbling at the doorknob and froze. Turning her head, she could just make out the outline of someone standing in the entrance. She shivered and was about to reach for the lamp when the bed creaked, and a small body crept in beside her. It was the new little girl, and by the way she was shaking, it was obvious she was scared. Pulling the trembling body close, Sarah knew she’d been given her answer.
6
When Sarah next opened her eyes, shadows of sunlight were dancing on the ceiling. She felt disorientated, and it was some moments before she remembered where she was. The space beside her was cold; there was no sign of the little girl who’d snuggled up to her the previous night. The other bed was empty, and it was clear Mrs Daws was already up and about her business.
Hearing the sound of footsteps on the garden path, she jumped out of bed and was just in time to see the tail end of a crocodile of children, towels under their arms, following Master Higgins towards the beach. Cursing herself for sleeping in, she quickly dressed in the blue serge dress, clipped back her wayward curls, then took her precious purse from under the pillow and carefully placed it in her pocket.
‘Good morning, dear, did you sleep well?’ Mrs Daws enquired as she entered the kitchen. The housekeeper was standing at the range stirring a huge pot of porridge, and the appetizing smell made Sarah’s stomach rumble.
‘I’m so sorry for sleeping in. You should have woken me,’ Sarah apologized. ‘What can I do to help?’
‘You was slumbering like a baby. Not surprising really, when you consider the day you had yesterday, and obviously the new little ’un found her way into your bed. I got her up and dressed. She’s gone with the others for their morning exercise.’
‘Yes, I saw Higgins marching them down the path like soldiers, but do you think it’s a good idea to take her back to the beach so soon after the tragedy?’ she cried.
The housekeeper looked up from the pot and frowned. ‘April’s gone with her,’ Mrs Daws said, as if that made everything all right.
‘That’s as may be but …’
‘Look, Miss Sullivan, he’s a good master and knows what he’s doing,’ she cut in.
‘I’m not so sure,’ Sarah muttered, remembering the terrified look in those periwinkle eyes. ‘Won’t it take her some time to recover from the ordeal of losing her mother?’
‘Sometimes it’s better for children to face things rather than let their fears fester,’ the woman pointed out, giving the pot a vigorous stir.
‘But she’s so small and Higgins is extremely strict,’ Sarah persisted, remembering the way he’d barked at the young boys the previous day.
The housekeeper sighed. ‘Underneath that tough exterior beats a heart of goodness. Harry gives many more hours to the school than he’s paid for. He might seem strict, but believe you me, he has the best interests of those children at heart. And they need the security discipline provides. They know where they stand then.’
‘Hmm,’ she murmured, doubtfully.
‘Why not observe how things are done here before passing judgement, eh?’ Although the woman smiled, once again Sarah felt as though she’d been reprimanded. Determined not to upset the housekeeper further, she smiled.
‘You are right of course, Mrs Daws. Thank you for your words of wisdom.’
‘’Cors you could always join them next time they go,’ the woman continued.
Sarah shuddered, for ever since a boy had held her head under the waves when she was a child, she’d been scared of the sea. However, having been found wanting once already, she wasn’t about to admit her weakness.
‘Shall I take these through to the dining room?’ she asked quickly, pointing to the two large platters of bread on the table.
‘Well, you’re not officially here to do kitchen duties but we all tend to muck in, so thank you, that would be a help. Those children are always hungry after their exercise in the briny.’
Sarah was about to ask if it wasn’t a bit late in the year for them to be swimming in the sea but bit her tongue. Mrs Daws was right. It would be prudent to monitor the daily regime here before commenting.
‘Morning, ladies.’ They looked up to see Samuel in the doorway. ‘I’ve a meeting with the vicar, so can I leave it to you to supervise the girls at breakfast, Sarah?’
‘Yes, of course,’ she replied, happy to think he trusted her.
‘And Higgins will see to the boys. I know it’s your day for working your magic on replenishing our provisions, Mrs Daws.’ He smiled then turned to leave.
‘Now then, Doctor, I hope you’re not thinking of going out without some hot breakfast inside you,’ Mrs Daws clucked, placing a bowl of porridge on the scrubbed table and folding her arms. Sarah hid a smile as her godfather meekly sat down and began to eat.
‘The kettle’s coming to the boil so I’ll make you some tea, Doctor, though them le
aves have been mashed so many times gawd knows what colour it’ll be.’
He shook his head. ‘I’ve no time, I’m afraid. The vicar doesn’t like to be kept waiting, and as I need to appeal to his better nature yet again, I’d best be on time. I’ll have one when I return,’ he added quickly when he saw the housekeeper open her mouth to protest. ‘Perhaps you’ll join me in the study then, Sarah, and we’ll make a start on the dreaded paperwork.’ He pulled a face as he got to his feet. ‘Thank you, Mrs Daws, delicious as usual.’
‘Surprised you’ve eaten enough to notice,’ she sniffed, picking up the still half-full dish and scraping the porridge back into the pot.
There was a clattering out in the yard, and looking out of the window, Sarah saw the children jostling each other to peg their wet towels onto the snaking washing line to dry. Then the door burst open, and there was a deafening thud of footsteps as the stampede headed for the dining room.
‘You go through, Miss Sullivan, and I’ll bring in the porridge,’ Mrs Daws said.
The children were already standing to attention behind their chairs, watched over by Pip and April. To Sarah’s surprise, the little girl Monday was standing calmly beside her, looking none the worse for her trip to the beach. In fact, she actually had some colour in her pale cheeks. Maybe the master had known what he was doing, she mused.
There was a rousing cheer as Mrs Daws came in and placed a large pot before Sarah and another at the head of the boys’ table. Then Higgins strode into the room, and silence descended like a bank of fog. He shot Sarah a wary look as he passed; she could sense the tension crackling between them. The children put their hands together while the master intoned the short grace in a soft yet meaningful voice that left Sarah wondering where he was from. It was certainly a different tone to the one she’d heard him using earlier, and she preferred it. There was little time for pondering, though, for no sooner had he finished than there was the sound of chairs scraping on the floor, and the girls stared expectantly in Sarah’s direction. Following Higgins’ lead, she hastily began ladling the porridge into their bowls while April passed around the plate of bread.
Sarah smiled as she watched the children tucking in as though they hadn’t eaten for weeks. Then, satisfied everything was under control, she started on her own food. The porridge was good. She bent her head over her bowl and ate hungrily. Suddenly her spoon was snatched from her hand.
‘What do you think you’re doing?’ she cried, staring up into the set face of Higgins. The room fell silent as, ignoring her protests, he leaned forward and fished something out of the bottom of her dish.
‘Who is responsible for this abomination?’ he demanded, staring around the table at each girl in turn. Nobody said a word. ‘I shall ask just once more. If the culprit doesn’t own up, every single one of you will go without luncheon and supper.’ As horrified gasps ran around both tables, a red-faced girl of about nine raised her hand.
‘It was an accident, sir,’ she muttered.
‘Oh, so this earwig just accidentally dropped into Miss Sullivan’s bowl, did it, Edith Curdy?’ Sarah stared from the girl to the milk-covered object the master was swinging between his fingers and shuddered.
The girl shook her head. ‘It was only a joke, sir.’
‘And it would have been funny if Miss Sullivan had choked, would it?’ he persisted.
‘No, sir,’ she whispered.
‘Apologize this minute, you miserable excuse for a human being, you,’ he barked.
‘Sorry, miss,’ the girl muttered, staring down at the floor.
‘Now, take this poor creature outside and bury it,’ he ordered, thrusting the offending insect into the girl’s hand. ‘As punishment, you will wash and dry up all the breakfast things by yourself. There will be no play at all for you today. Instead you will spend your break times emptying the earth closets, which, I am reliably informed, are full to the brim. That will take you quite some time, during which you can reflect on your shameful behaviour.’ Sarah opened her mouth to say that no harm had been done, but Higgins shot her a warning look and she kept quiet.
‘Now clear,’ he roared, banging his fist down on the table so that the spoons jangled against the bowls. Immediately, the children jumped to their feet and, dishes in hand, almost ran from the room.
‘Sorry about that,’ Higgins said, when they had the room to themselves. ‘With these little horrors, you need eyes in your behind.’
‘I can’t deny I’m grateful you spotted the earwig but I’m sure there was no need to be so harsh …’
‘There was every need, Miss Sullivan,’ he cut in. ‘It is our duty here at Red Cliffs to prepare these children for the outside world, and that means making them aware of what is acceptable behaviour and what is not.’
‘Talking of acceptable behaviour,’ Sarah replied, ‘I was surprised you took the new little girl back to the beach so soon after her ordeal. It could have disturbed her.’
The master stared at her for a moment, that glint she’d come to recognize sparking in his eyes. ‘Did she look in any way disturbed? I thought I saw her tucking into her breakfast quite heartily.’
‘Well, yes,’ Sarah replied, realizing this was true. ‘But …’
‘In my experience,’ he began, stressing the word experience, ‘it is better for them to confront their demons sooner rather than later. Good morning.’
As the door closed behind him, Sarah sighed. Were they destined always to disagree? She’d only meant to help, for sometimes women saw things from a different perspective. She was still musing when her attention was caught by movement outside, and she went over to the window. The children were now busy tending the vegetable plot, some digging, others emptying buckets of weeds into the compost heap. She noticed the miscreants from the previous day, Black and Brown, sweeping up the debris in the yard. Pip was keeping a watchful eye on the carrots and potatoes that were being harvested and scraped free of mud before they were laid out on the low wall to dry. They were all working diligently, which was more than she was, she realized.
As she passed by the table, she saw the seat where Maisie had been sitting was wet. Poor little thing, no doubt the upset had affected her, she thought, hurrying through to advise Mrs Daws.
The housekeeper was sat at the table writing a shopping list. When she saw Sarah her lips began twitching.
‘Heard about your breakfast. Couldn’t help earwigging,’ she spluttered. ‘Don’t mind me,’ she added, tears of mirth rolling down her face. ‘It’s their little pranks that keep me spirits up. You’d best keep your eyes open ’cos you never know what those little perishers are going to do next, and being new, you’ll be their prime target. As will the silent nipper ’til she finds her voice. Still, April will keep an eye on her when she’s not working.’
‘Thank you, Mrs Daws, Higgins did warn me. By the way, I think Maisie had an accident during that upset at breakfast,’ Sarah said.
The woman sighed. ‘She was doing so well, too. Never mind, can’t be helped. I’ll see to it,’ she said, getting to her feet and grabbing a cloth. ‘The doctor’s waiting for you in his study, by the way.’
Sarah hurried along the hallway, determined to show her godfather how amenable she really was. She owed it to her father to try and help his friend.
‘Ah, Sarah dear.’ Samuel looked up from the papers he was studying. ‘Settling in all right?’
‘Yes, thank you,’ she replied, her eyes straying to the boarded-up window that threw shadows over the floor, darkening the room. ‘Now, what can I help you with first?’
Samuel pushed the papers to one side. ‘Before we make a start on this little lot, it would probably be helpful if I fill you in on how we do things here, the aims and aspirations for our pupils. Firstly, St Nicholas’ contribute generously in all ways. You will have seen the church on the corner of the road, of course?’ Sarah nodded, remembering thinking how incongruous the large building at the end of the road seemed, towering over its neighbouring houses
in the road. ‘Each Sunday after breakfast, the staff and pupils attend morning service before returning to help with the soup kitchen.’
‘Ah, yes, you told me you have people who come here for their luncheon,’ Sarah replied, remembering the trestle tables propped against the wall in the dining room.
‘The waifs who live on the streets know they will get a hot meal, and of course there are those parents struggling to make ends meet who send their children along for free food. Anyway, it is our policy to help all those who come here. The good ladies of the church hold sales of work for Red Cliffs and will donate clothes and anything else they think suitable for us to distribute.’
‘Like my dress,’ Sarah said, looking down at the blue serge.
Her godfather smiled. ‘That was fortuitous, was it not? The vicar introduced me to the new verger, Jack Wise, this morning. He seems an enthusiastic young man who has promised to help in any way he can. During the course of our conversation, I happened to mention that your bag had been stolen, and he told me about a gang operating in the area. It seems they prey on tourists who come here on vacation, for usually their luggage contains ‘ripe pickings’, such as jewellery and silver toiletry sets.’
Sarah gave a harsh laugh. ‘Well, they certainly won’t find anything like that in mine.’
‘Jack knows someone in the local constabulary and will mention the theft to him.’
‘You mean there is a chance I might get my bag back?’ Sarah asked eagerly, her hand automatically going to the purse in her pocket. ‘It’s so demeaning to think these few coins are all I have.’
Her godfather frowned. ‘We’ll have to wait and see, but to be honest, I wouldn’t hold out much hope. Whilst I agree the loss of your things was unfortunate, they are merely that, possessions, and as such can be replaced.’ The last few words came out on a wheeze, and as if the speech had been too much for him, he slumped in his chair. A fit of rasping coughing seized him and he fumbled in his pocket for the bottle of pills. Sarah passed him his glass of water then sat there feeling guilty. She didn’t remind him that almost everything she had to remember her parents by was in that bag.