by Linda Finlay
7
As the coughing fit passed and Samuel’s colour began to return to normal, Sarah shook her head.
‘I’m sorry, Uncle,’ she murmured. ‘Perhaps I should leave?’
‘No, it is me who should apologize. I’ve spent so many years concentrating on this place with little care for possessions, I sometimes forget my frugal ways aren’t necessarily normal. Let me give you some money to replace your clothes. It was inconsiderate expecting you to be happy wearing other people’s cast-offs,’ he said, opening the top drawer of his desk and drawing out a cash tin. ‘I do keep a modest amount here for emergencies.’
Sarah felt awful. ‘Please, Uncle, that won’t be necessary,’ she said quickly. ‘Use it to replace that glass.’ She pointed to the boarded window.
‘Well, if you’re sure,’ he said, frowning as he replaced the tin. ‘I want you to stay here, Sarah,’ he continued. ‘Although your father was good enough to keep me informed of your progress, I would welcome the opportunity to get to know you better. Besides you have much to offer Red Cliffs.’ He sat back in his chair and fixed her with his direct gaze.
‘If you really think I can be of assistance,’ she agreed. Even if she did return to Plymouth, she would have nowhere to live, for knowing a new doctor was taking over her father’s practice, she’d handed over the keys. Besides, she was already becoming attached to the children and wanted to help. Staring down at the clutter on her godfather’s desk, it was obvious he needed help. Besides, she liked a challenge; it wasn’t in her nature to give up easily.
‘Now, tell me, how is the little girl we found yesterday?’ he asked, breaking into her thoughts.
‘She seems happy following April around, although I was surprised Master Higgins took her to the beach this morning. I mean, it’s so soon after …’ Remembering Mrs Daws’ advice, she stuttered to a halt. ‘But I’m sure he knows best.’
‘He does, believe you me. If he thought for one moment it wasn’t the right thing for her he would have left her with Mrs Daws. Higgins swears bathing in salty water, along with deep breathing of the healthy ozone, is the key to attaining a strong constitution. I too believe hydrotherapy is nature’s best cure, although my exercise is more likely to consist of an amble around the block these days. A healthy body makes for a healthy mind.’
‘I agree outdoor exercise and swimming in the sea can be beneficial but surely the children go to the indoor baths in the winter?’ she asked, remembering the bath saloons she’d seen on her way here.
Samuel gave a harsh laugh. ‘I rather think the good folk of Torquay would have something to say about that. The pupils at Red Cliffs are tolerated rather than welcomed around here. They are deemed to lower the tone of the neighbourhood.’
‘But that’s preposterous,’ she cried, then remembered Mrs Daws had said something similar the previous day.
Samuel shrugged philosophically. ‘Yet that’s the way things are. We have to ensure the children bathe in the most sheltered cove as it is. Now, back to the young girl. The vicar had already heard about the dreadful business on the beach and believes the deceased woman was a Romany, cast out by her folk when she eloped with a Gorgio, but we’ll know more when the police have finished their enquiries.’ Sarah nodded, thinking that would explain the girl’s distinctive colouring.
‘Do they know anything about the child’s father?’
‘Not yet,’ he sighed. ‘Although the police are trying to trace him.’
‘What will happen if she continues refusing to speak?’ Sarah asked. ‘Mrs Daws said the other children might be cruel to her.’
Samuel narrowed his eyes. ‘They might taunt her or play pranks but I don’t think they’d actually be cruel. However, we’ll keep a weather eye out, and if there’s no improvement or she seems to be suffering in any way, we’ll send her to the Deaconess. She has a home nearby which she opens for children with afflictions. A lovely woman who, with her loyal assistant, has achieved some remarkable results. Of course, she doesn’t have the same cash constraints as we do here and, as numbers are fewer, is able to offer them a more comfortable environment. In fact, that might be the perfect solution for the little girl anyway.’
At this, Sarah felt a sharp pang in her chest, for she’d already become very fond of Monday, as April had christened her.
‘Oh I hope we can keep her. Another move would unsettle her further, surely?’ she cried.
‘We’ll see if the police can shine any light on the whereabouts of the little girl’s father before speaking to the Deaconess. It could well be that when he finds out about the “accident” he’ll turn up to claim her.’ Seeing Sarah’s expression, he sighed. ‘Sarah, it is easy to get emotionally attached, especially under circumstances like this, but we must always do what is in the child’s best interest,’ Samuel said gently, giving her a knowing look.
‘Very well,’ she replied, understanding what he said was true. ‘Does the Deaconess only take children with infirmities?’ she asked, interested despite herself.
‘Yes, she knows how difficult they can be to place, and her objective is the same as ours: to teach the children how to find their position in society. When I first took in Pip she offered to place him but the scallywag refused to go, saying he liked it here. Of course, that was some years ago now.’
‘I noticed his limp and humped back. What is wrong with him, exactly?’
‘Too long living in the dirt and damp of the sewers,’ Samuel sighed. ‘When we found him, we thought he’d contracted typhus, for he was covered in lice and had such a fever. We feared he would have to go into hospital, but Mrs Daws and I nursed him between us, and, well, his fighting spirit pulled him through, although his deformities remain. Still, as you saw for yourself, anyone more incorrigible you’ve yet to meet. He’s bright and proved a good pupil but there was little chance of him being accepted in the workplace, so we kept him on to help with the children. They adore him even if he does keep them in line.’
‘You obviously love children, Uncle,’ Sarah said, seeing the soft look in his eyes when he spoke of them. ‘Did you never want to marry and have a family of your own?’ A look of sadness crossed his face, and he was silent for so long, Sarah wished she hadn’t asked.
‘These children here are my family,’ he eventually replied. ‘Which is why I need to ensure the school keeps running. Now, much as I hate it, we really must get down to this paperwork.’
Higgins was fuming as he made his way down to the schoolroom. In all the years he’d been at Red Cliffs he’d never had his judgement questioned. He knew he was a good master and had the best interests of all the children at heart. How dare that frizzy-haired, high-handed woman question his methods? He had been only too aware the new child might react badly when he took her back to the beach and had instructed April to keep an eye on her. He also knew how cruel children could be if they thought anyone was receiving different treatment, especially if it was perceived as preferential, and judged it better to treat them all the same.
Although the little girl had been hesitant at first, it was obvious she was used to the sea. With April’s encouragement, she had soon been swimming along with the others and, on her return, had eaten a hearty breakfast. And had that wretched woman been grateful when he’d spotted Edith dropping that earwig in her porridge? Not a bit of it. Rather, she’d thought the punishment too harsh. Well, Samuel’s god-daughter or not, she had a lot to learn and could jolly well look out for herself now, he thought, snatching up the bell and ringing it vigorously.
As soon as the children filed into the classroom his attention was focused totally on their lessons. If they were to have any chance of making it in the world, teaching them reading, writing, arithmetic and how to be careful with money was vital. He left it to the travelling teacher, Miss Letticia Green, to deal with the girls’ moral guidance whilst he did what he could to teach the boys about respect. Of course, as she was wont to tell him, Miss Green was used to working in more salubrious surroundings
and only agreed to come here out of the goodness of her heart.
He did a head count, surprised to find today was one of the largest classes he’d taught in a long time. Although he was pleased that children who didn’t live at Red Cliffs were also seizing the chance to learn, it was challenging teaching a group of such diverse ages and abilities, especially with the limited facilities at his disposal. He grimaced at the second-hand books and slates he had to make do with. What a difference money would make.
‘Good morning, class,’ he greeted them, as if for the first time that day, for it was important they differentiated between school time and the recreational swimming.
‘Good morning, Master Higgins,’ they intoned.
He saw the new little girl standing timidly in the doorway and gently drew her towards a desk at the front. ‘Sit next to Maisie here, and if you need anything put your hand up.’ Two periwinkle eyes regarded him solemnly. ‘Class, take your seats, slates at the ready,’ he ordered. ‘Remember always to use your right hand,’ he added, leaning over and transferring the chalk from the girl’s left hand. She stared at him in surprise. He saw her lips quiver but needed to press on as he had at least thirty other pupils to teach this morning.
‘Me helps you,’ Maisie whispered to the little girl. Whilst he usually insisted on a ‘no speaking in class’ policy, he decided to let it go this once. He was just thinking how challenging it was going to be if the girl persisted in remaining silent, when inspiration struck.
‘Right, can someone tell me why it’s important we know how to write our letters?’ he asked.
‘So we can write our name and address when we get out of this place,’ Brown quipped.
‘Correct, Brown. Can I take it from your comment that you have secured some employment?’ he asked, fixing the boy with a steely look. ‘If so, you’d best tell Mrs Daws you will not be needing any more of her delicious food.’ As the boy’s eyes widened in horror, he pushed the point home. ‘And if that’s the case, it would only be fair to let someone else have your place here at Red Cliffs.’
‘But I’m only eight, sir,’ Brown gulped.
‘I am aware of that fact, Brown. However, for a moment there I thought it was you who had forgotten. And, of course, the best way to remember is …’ He left the rest of his sentence hanging in the air and picked up the tawse from his desk. As he cracked the strip of leather against his hand, the boy paled.
‘Besides, Brown, you can’t leave until you’ve paid for the damage to the doctor’s window, so you’ll have plenty of time to remember.’ He turned back to face the others. ‘Now, we need to learn our letters so we can write our names,’ he said, his voice softer as he moved towards Maisie and the new girl. ‘What does your name start with, Maisie?’ he asked.
‘Mmm,’ she sounded.
‘M, that’s right. And who can write an M on the blackboard for me?’
‘That’s easy, sir,’ Black called.
‘Then perhaps you would care to show us, Black,’ he said, tossing a chalk to the boy.
The boy swaggered to the front of the class and wrote a capital M on the board.
‘Easy peasy,’ he smirked.
‘I agree, for a nine-year-old such as you, it should be. Now, whilst the children in the first two rows copy this letter onto their slates, you will use the M to complete the word manners.’ The boy’s face dropped. ‘Hurry up, boy, we don’t have all day,’ the master said, flicking the tawse.
Seeing the little girl shrinking down in her seat, he went over and crouched down beside her.
‘Do you know what letter your name starts with?’ he asked gently. Silently she surveyed him with those periwinkle eyes. Sighing inwardly, he tried another approach. ‘In a minute I’m going to point to each letter of the alphabet in turn. If you recognize one, I’d like you to raise your hand.’ Slowly the girl nodded and Higgins smiled. Progress at last. It was going to take patience but he was sure he’d get there.
‘Me will as well, sir,’ Maisie chirped up. He smiled again and returned to the front of the class.
‘Right, Black, move away from the board, and we’ll see how you got on with that easy peasy word. M a n e r s,’ he sounded out. ‘Spelt thus it reads “mainers”. You need two n’s to make the “a” sound in the word. You should know that by now, boy. You will stay in at break and write out the correct word fifty times.’
‘But, sir …’ Black began, then fell silent as Higgins reached for the strap. ‘Yes, sir,’ he amended quickly as the master cracked the leather down on the desk beside him.
As he walked over to Maisie and her new companion, he heard a titter coming from the back of the room. Changing course, he strode over to where three girls had their heads bent together and picked up the slate that was causing so much hilarity. Inside the letter O, a grotesque face had been drawn, and it was evident from their guilty expressions that he was the object of their mirth.
‘Thank you, girls,’ he bellowed. ‘When I require you to add drawing to your curriculum you will be the first to know. Miss Oram, I take it this is your masterpiece?’
‘Sir,’ the fair-haired girl answered. ‘But it wasn’t only me.’
‘Evidently. All three of you will stay behind with Black and put your slates to their proper use by writing out fifty times, I must obey.’
‘Does that mean I won’t have to empty the earth closets?’ Edith asked hopefully.
‘Yes, it does,’ he agreed. Then, as the girl gave a gleeful grin, he added. ‘During this break. However, you will commence after luncheon, and as you two girls have helped cause the delay, you will assist.’ As he treated them all to his sternest look, they gulped and stared down at their slates.
‘Right, everybody out in the fresh air, apart from those who have their lines to do,’ he ordered.
Having to mete out their punishment was bad enough but it also meant he was confined to the classroom during break. If only they had the proper materials, it would put a stop to these high jinks with the slates, for then they would have to pen their letters onto paper in ink, and in copperplate writing to boot. However, these materials cost money – money Red Cliffs simply didn’t have.
8
‘Come on, Lil,’ Christian coaxed, nuzzling into the woman’s neck, but she pushed him away. ‘Don’t kick a man when he’s down. It wasn’t my fault the cards were stacked against me. Now I could do with a little relief.’
‘No pay, no play, you know the rules,’ Lil muttered, a roll-up dangling from her painted lips.
‘But I paid you last night, and we didn’t do anything.’
‘’Twern’t my fault all that ale you downed gave you the droops. Now, I needs to find meself a feller who does have money to spend. Come on, scarper before Madam Iniquity hears you saying you’re broke and boots you out herself.’
Christian scowled at the woman, who in the cold light of morning looked rougher than any of the maids he’d seen touting for business around the docks.
‘Pah, and to think I thought this was a high-class establishment,’ he spat. ‘I’ll be rich one day, just you wait and see. And I’ll be choosy who I spend my money on,’ he called over his shoulder, then yelped as his scuffed brogues hit him hard in the back.
Be like that, he thought, snatching them up and hurrying away in his stockinged feet. He could get money any time he wanted. All he needed to do was pay a few visits to his men, scattered throughout the town, and find out how his little enterprise was faring. Word on the street told him business was booming, so he was expecting his ‘agents’ to hand over a sizeable sum. Then there were those new establishments needing protection. It hadn’t taken long to send out the frighteners. He gave a loud laugh, for he fully intended to be rich sooner rather than later, then he’d buy up all the flesh dens in the town. That Lil would be sorry for throwing him out then. Reaching the park, he sat on a bench and bent to put on his shoes.
‘Morning, Lawrence, still on your uppers, I see.’ He looked up to see his bank manager doffi
ng his bowler hat mockingly at him. ‘Can’t stop, just on my way to work. Don’t call us, as they say,’ the man sneered as, cane tapping on the path, he walked briskly towards the town. Christian gestured after him then stared down at his crumpled appearance. The black tail coat, once the height of fashion, was not only creased and splattered with mud but definitely outmoded, and as for his shoes, the less said about them the better, he thought, glaring after the dapper Collings. There was no way he could call on his agents looking like this, but he hadn’t time to return home and change. Fumbling in his pocket, he grimaced at the pitiful handful of coins that remained from his night at the club. He’d been so sure he was going to win this time, too. Well, at least he had enough for a wash and spruce-up at the bath saloon. Once he’d smartened himself up, he’d collect his monies then pay a long-overdue visit to his tailor, after which he’d enjoy a long, leisurely luncheon and find someone who would provide the comfort his body was calling out for.
Feeling better at the thought, he made his way through the park and headed towards the baths. It was still early but already people were going about their business. Not wanting to be seen in this dishevelled state, he quickened his step. It was all that Lil’s fault. If she’d been more accommodating they could have shared a bath in front of the fire and … what on earth was that? He wrinkled his nose as a crocodile of urchins approached, towels tucked under their arms. With their tatty rags and shaven heads, it had to be those tykes from the Ragged School his uncle ran. What a wicked waste of that splendid house with its panoramic view of the bay. Why, if he owned it, no, when he owned it, he would ensure it was put to better use. He supposed he should show willing and call on the old boy, but not today. He had more pressing things to do, he thought, quickly averting his head.