Monday's Child

by Linda Finlay

  ‘And very good it is too,’ he said.

  ‘That’s sissy. I’ve done a real castle,’ Brown scoffed.

  ‘Well, that’s good, we can put you in the dungeon when you’re naughty,’ he replied. As the class rocked with laughter, he picked up the bell. ‘Luncheon time,’ he said, then stood aside as they thundered out of the room.

  ‘Goodness, it’s like a stampede,’ Sarah said, hovering uncertainly in the doorway.

  ‘Miss Sullivan, do come in. How can I help you?’ he asked, trying not to show his surprise.

  ‘Goodness, some of these pictures are quite creative,’ she laughed, looking at the slates as she made her way to where he was standing. ‘Whose is that picture?’ she asked, picking up the slate and studying it.

  ‘It’s Monday’s,’ he replied. ‘And I think it’s very good for a little one. Their brief was to draw somewhere they would like to go on holiday, although of course for most it would be a dream, and that’s what she came up with. You look surprised. I suppose you didn’t expect them to have any fun in the classroom.’

  ‘Well, yes, I am astonished at that,’ she replied, a gleam sparking in her brown eyes, which reminded him of chestnuts. ‘But my surprise was because Monday’s grandparents are Romany and camping nearby.’

  ‘So you think this was drawn from memory?’

  ‘It would make sense,’ she sighed, her heart sinking.

  ‘You don’t approve?’ She was quiet for a few moments, and he could see she was searching for the right words.

  ‘It’s not that. The grandmother is to visit when she can get into town. I mean, she’s not exactly hurrying to see her grandchild, is she?’

  ‘Maybe not, but we don’t know the family history so better to reserve judgement, don’t you think? Now, I’m guessing you had a reason for paying a visit to my humble classroom. You were expecting to hear the howls of anguished children being beaten, perhaps?’

  ‘No, of course not,’ she gasped, then realized he was teasing. ‘I thought you should know Bert came and mended the study window this morning. The doctor was out at the time and, when he returned, concluded you must have found a suitably sized pane of glass in your workshop.’

  ‘Ah, I see. We don’t usually hide things from him but as his funds dwindle his pride swells, if you see what I mean.’

  ‘I understand, and your secret’s safe with me. Mrs Daws knows I’ve slipped out to tell you and says you’ll find an extra dumpling in your stew,’ she grinned.

  ‘Well, that was worth all the subterfuge, then,’ he laughed.

  As she smiled back, something sparked between them and her eyes widened in surprise.

  11

  ‘Grandmother’s here, dear,’ the woman announced, flouncing into the room, gold bangles jangling. ‘Well, where is she then?’ she asked, peering around. ‘I haven’t come all this way to be kept waiting.’

  Samuel frowned, certain the plummy accent was as false as her smile. Before he could respond, the usually amenable Mrs Daws took him by surprise.

  ‘Well, I’m sorry, I’m sure. We’d have rolled out the red carpet and had your granddaughter ready and waiting in her best frock had we known you were coming,’ she replied, narrowing her eyes. ‘I mean, it has been three weeks since the doctor rescued her, and we weren’t to know today was to be THE day.’

  ‘I came as soon as I could, so you can bring her in now,’ the woman replied haughtily, waving her hand at the housekeeper so the jangling started up again.

  ‘She’s in the schoolroom with the others, Mrs …?’ Samuel said, quirking a white brow.

  ‘The name’s Rosa,’ she announced grandly. ‘Madam Rosa. You may have heard of me?’

  ‘Nope,’ Mrs Daws shook her head and pursed her lips to make her point.

  ‘Well, Madam Rosa, perhaps you’d like a cup of tea whilst you are waiting?’ Samuel offered.

  ‘Ta, I am parched as it happens. It’s a long way down from Torre.’

  Seeing Mrs Daws open her mouth to protest, Samuel quickly intervened. ‘Yes, it is a fair walk, Rosa.’

  The woman gave a laugh. ‘Walk? Came down on the wagon, dear,’ she said, sinking onto a chair without invitation. ‘Well, go on, it’ll have to be a quick cup, mind, ’cos Baz is waiting outside.’

  ‘The little girl’s grandfather?’ he enquired. The woman nodded. ‘Well, why don’t you ask him to join us for some refreshment?’

  The woman laughed louder this time. ‘Best not. The horse’ll be in your garden munching them carrots’ tops before you can blink.’

  ‘Mrs Daws, perhaps you would be kind enough to make Madam Rosa a cup of tea?’

  ‘I’ll do better than that. I’ll bring us all in some then Madam Rosa can read our leaves. That is what you gypsies do, isn’t it?’ the housekeeper asked, her lips curling into a passable smile.

  ‘Being a Romany, I do have that gift. You’ll have to cross my palm with silver first, though.’

  ‘You don’t say,’ Mrs Daws muttered as she hurried away.

  ‘Nice house you have here,’ Rosa said, taking a good look around the room. ‘Although shabbier than I’d have expected, especially compared to the others in the road. Seems quite a posh neck of the woods.’

  ‘Indeed,’ Samuel acknowledged. ‘Now then, Madam Rosa, about your little granddaughter …’

  ‘Hope she’s been behaving herself. I know what these little ones can be like. I remember when Holly, that is … I mean was, her mother was little. She were a right handful and …’ She stopped as Mrs Daws came back into the room bearing a tray of cups and the brown pot.

  ‘Here we are, tea up. The kettle was on the hob so it didn’t take a moment to make. Now shall I pour or would you like to be Mum, Rosa?’ she asked.

  ‘You’re the housekeeper so you can while I continue talking to Mr Lawrence here,’ the woman said, waving her hand in the air.

  ‘It’s Dr Lawrence, actually,’ Mrs Daws corrected as she picked up the teapot.

  ‘Ooh, I likes a doctor,’ Rosa pouted. ‘So educated and with your high fees, worth a bit I’ll be …’

  ‘Let me do that, Mrs Daws, whilst you go and ask Sarah to bring the little girl in. What is her name, by the way?’ he asked, placing the pot carefully back on the tray and turning to the woman.

  ‘Gawd love us, Doctor, how would I know?’ the woman snorted.

  ‘You mean, you don’t know your …’ the housekeeper began.

  ‘Now, if you please, Mrs Daws,’ Samuel interrupted. ‘I believe Madam Rosa said she was in a hurry.’

  ‘And that is why I took the liberty of popping into the schoolroom just now,’ Mrs Daws said. ‘They are waiting in the hallway, Doctor. I’ll show them in.’ She opened the door, and Sarah came into the room, holding the little girl’s hand.

  ‘Ah, Sarah, do come in and meet Madam Rosa. Sarah has done a fine job of looking after our little visitor here,’ Samuel said, smiling down at the little girl. ‘Sarah, this is Madam Rosa, the grandmother.’

  ‘Well, come on then, let’s get a gander at you,’ the woman said, getting to her feet and prising the little girl away from Sarah. As the girl stiffened and hid behind Sarah’s skirts, Madam Rosa sniffed.

  ‘Gawd love us, is it too much to ask that you look at your grandmother?’ she cried, throwing up her hands so that the bangles jingled once more.

  As Sarah crouched down and whispered something to Monday, the little girl put her thumb in her mouth then turned and stared shyly up at the woman.

  ‘Well, that’ll have to stop for a start. Can’t be doing with babies who suck their dirty digits.’ Monday sucked harder on her thumb and the woman sighed. ‘Well, you’ve certainly got the Romany eyes, and that hair looks dark, from what I can see. Criminal, cropping a little girl’s head like that,’ she tutted. Before Sarah could explain, she went on. ‘And there’s a bit of our Holly in that defiant chin. Tell us your name then, ducks.’ The periwinkle eyes darkened but the girl remained silent.

  Seeing the woman s
cowl, Samuel intervened. ‘I’m afraid she’s been silent since we rescued her. Probably from the shock. It’s quite …’

  ‘You mean she’s dumb?’ Rosa asked, stepping back as if it was contagious.

  ‘As I said, it’s quite common …’ Samuel began.

  ‘But she’ll be of no use at the fairs if she can’t speak,’ the woman wailed. Then her manner changed, and she stood staring at the child thoughtfully. ‘She could still be useful, mind,’ she said, stoking her chin. ‘How much to take her off your hands?’

  ‘I assure you we don’t require any money …’ Samuel began.

  The woman gave a harsh laugh. ‘Not you, me, you daft ha’p’orth. How much will you pay me to take her away?’

  ‘Well, really …’ Mrs Daws spluttered but Samuel was already on his feet.

  ‘I have seen and heard all I need. The girl will remain here until her father is located. Good day to you,’ he said, ushering the woman out of the room and into the hallway.

  ‘May the curse of the gypsies be upon you …’ she began, but the rest of her words were lost as the front door was slammed behind her. As Samuel stood, regaining his breath, there was a movement behind him.

  ‘Oh, April, I didn’t see you there,’ he said.

  ‘I heard what that bitch said about Monday, and, well, I was just about to come in and biff her one when you threw her out. Good for you, Doctor.’

  ‘Yes, well, you’d better come into my study with the others,’ he said. His cheeks were red with anger but he managed to control his voice. ‘I don’t think we’ll see any more of them. It looked like a whole group of vans were parked outside so I’m assuming they are moving on.’

  ‘Well, thank the Lord,’ Mrs Daws muttered, sinking into a chair as April went over and threw her arms around the little girl.

  ‘We’ll look after you,’ she crooned.

  ‘Well, little ’un, I guess you’ll be staying here with us until we find your father,’ Samuel said, patting the little girl’s head. ‘Is that all right with you?’ She nodded her head vigorously. ‘Well, that’s settled then.’

  Sarah smiled. ‘I can’t tell you how relieved I am you saw that woman out. Why …’ Her voice trailed off as Samuel shook his head and nodded towards Monday.

  ‘Did you know that woman, Monday?’ he asked, squatting down until he was level with her. Monday opened her mouth. There was a collective holding of breath, and Mrs Daws and Sarah exchanged excited looks. But then the little girl shook her head. ‘Well, you go along to the kitchen with April and Mrs Daws. I’m sure they’ll find you something nice to drink,’ Samuel said, smiling encouragingly at her.

  ‘I’ll come too,’ Sarah said quickly, ruffling the little girl’s hair.

  ‘I’d like you to stay here, please. We have things to do,’ Samuel said.

  As April ushered Monday out of the room, Mrs Daws began collecting up the tea things. ‘For a minute there I thought the little girl was going to speak, bless her.’

  ‘So did I,’ Sarah sighed, passing the housekeeper a cup.

  ‘She will, in her own good time, I’m sure,’ Samuel said. ‘Sometimes when one shock has triggered something, another unlocks it.’

  ‘I’m that pleased you booted that woman out, Doctor, she were a nasty bit of stuff. Madam Rosa indeed,’ Mrs Daws tutted. ‘Well, I’ll leave you to it.’

  ‘I’m so happy Monday is to stay here, Uncle,’ Sarah cried as soon as the housekeeper had left.

  Samuel studied his god-daughter for a moment. He’d grown even fonder of her in the short time she’d been here and didn’t want to see her hurt. ‘I know you are, my dear. However, I must remind you to exercise caution, for we don’t know how long she will remain here. When her father returns he’ll probably want to take her home with him, especially as the poor man has lost his wife.’ Seeing the mix of emotions crossing her face, he said briskly, ‘Now, I must go straight to the police station and tell them what has happened.’

  ‘But it’s raining, Uncle,’ she frowned, staring at the drops splattering against the window.

  ‘I was going to ask you to accompany me, for we’ll be passing the train station and could make enquiries about your bag. Still, I’ll understand if you don’t want to get wet.’

  ‘I was thinking of you, Uncle,’ Sarah cried. ‘That rain will do nothing for your chest.’

  ‘Then I’ll put on my muffler,’ he replied, his eyes twinkling so that she knew he was humouring her.

  As Samuel steered the trap out of the gates, they saw Pip, shovel in hand, heading purposefully towards the road. Seeing them approach, he raised his cap.

  ‘Afternoon, guv, Miss Sullivan,’ he greeted them cheerily. ‘Them gypos have left their calling card all over the place,’ he said, waving towards the brown piles still steaming despite the rain. ‘Good manure for the vegetables, though,’ he grinned.

  ‘Indeed, Pip, good work,’ Samuel acknowledged. ‘We’re paying a visit to the local constabulary via the railway station, so look to Master Higgins if anything crops up.’

  ‘Righto, guv.’

  Despite the rain, it was refreshing to be out in the air, and Samuel felt himself relax for the first time that afternoon. The cheek of that woman. It still astounded him how some people sought to make money from innocent children. Then he caught sight of Sarah’s pensive expression.

  ‘Not still worrying about young Monday?’ he asked.

  She shook her head. ‘No, I was thinking how lovely it would have been if she’d spoken, then that frightful woman’s visit would have served some purpose.’

  ‘Well, if I’m not mistaken she turned a corner this afternoon. Now sit back and enjoy this nice wet trip along the sea front. It’s not often we get the chance to skip school,’ he quipped.

  Sarah smiled then turned her head to look at the sea. It was flat and grey. The promenade was deserted and had a dismal feel. Even the leaves drooping on the palm trees looked sad and out of place. It was so different from when she’d arrived.

  ‘Have you settled into Red Cliffs?’ he asked, hearing her sigh.

  ‘Yes, the days seem to fly by. There is always so much to do.’

  ‘Not working you too hard, am I?’ he asked. ‘Do say if I am. Mrs Daws reckons I can be a slave driver, albeit unwittingly.’

  Sarah laughed. ‘No one works harder than you, Uncle. Oh, we’re here already,’ she observed as he pulled up outside the station. Jumping down, she made her way towards the musty-smelling lost property office where she was greeted by the same clerk as before.

  ‘Still roughing it with those urchins, miss?’ he asked, looking up from his notebook.

  ‘I am still at Red Cliffs,’ she replied, ignoring his comment about the children. ‘I called in to see if my bag has been found?’

  The man put his pencil behind his ear then made a show of looking through his book.

  ‘No, ’fraid not. Did warn you it was unlikely, didn’t I?’ he said, almost triumphantly. ‘They reckon there’s this ring, see, and …’

  ‘Thank you so much for your help,’ she cut in, anxious not to keep her uncle waiting in the wet.

  ‘I can see by your face you’ve had no luck,’ Samuel said as she climbed back into the cart. ‘Now, I owe you an apology, my dear, for whilst you were gone it dawned on me that I still haven’t given you any money towards purchasing new things. And then there’s the little matter of your wages. I have been most remiss, especially after you’ve worked so hard on my paperwork,’ he sighed.

  ‘Uncle, please, there’s no need. I have a nice bed, food to eat, and as for clothes, Mrs Daws told me she’d found a lovely green dress in the donations which she reckons will be better than this,’ she said, patting the blue serge of her skirt, which showed from beneath her shawl.

  ‘Well, I can understand you not wanting to wear that one after Miss Middle’s dreadful outburst,’ Samuel said, turning the horse towards the town. Remembering the woman’s accusation, Sarah grimaced.

  ‘Mrs Daws reck
oned the green was softer and would suit me better.’

  ‘You women and your colours,’ Samuel laughed and shook his head. ‘You look quite lovely to me as it is, Sarah. Ah, here we are,’ he said, pulling on the reins.

  As they entered the police station, a young constable peered importantly over the desk.

  ‘How c-can I help?’ he asked, flushing bright red when he saw Sarah.

  ‘Good afternoon, I’m Dr Lawrence, and this is Miss Sullivan,’ Samuel greeted him.

  ‘O, o, S-sullivan,’ the man repeated.

  ‘No, not O’Sullivan, Constable, just Sullivan. I’m not Irish,’ Sarah quipped. The constable blushed even more.

  ‘I’d like to see Sergeant Watts, if you would be so good as to tell him I’m here,’ Samuel said.

  ‘Of course, sir, er, Doctor,’ the constable replied before hurriedly disappearing through a door to one side of the counter.

  Lips twitching, Samuel turned to Sarah. ‘I think you’ve made quite an impression,’ he said. ‘Ah, good afternoon, Watts,’ he acknowledged as a rather portly gentleman appeared, shiny buttons straining over the jacket of his uniform. ‘This is my god-daughter, Sarah Sullivan. She has come to assist me at Red Cliffs.’

  ‘Good afternoon, both,’ the sergeant greeted them, peering through his wire-rimmed glasses. Then he turned to Samuel. ‘About time you had some help with all them children. Don’t know how you manage, I’m sure. Come through to my office,’ he said, lifting the counter to allow them through. ‘Potts, man the desk,’ he called to the red-faced constable. ‘I know, Watts and Potts, dreadful, isn’t it?’ he shrugged when he saw Sarah smile. The constable reappeared, surreptitiously glancing in Sarah’s direction as he took up his place once more.

  ‘Now, what can I do you for?’ Watts asked as soon as they were seated. Briefly Samuel filled him in on the events of the afternoon. ‘Blinking gypos. You should see the mess they left after we moved them on,’ the sergeant grumbled.

  ‘You mean they didn’t leave voluntarily?’ Sarah asked.

  ‘Would’ve been a lot easier for us if they had, but sadly they never do, miss,’ he said. Sarah looked at Samuel, and he knew what she was thinking. That dreadful woman hadn’t made a special journey to see her granddaughter, at all.