Monday's Child

by Linda Finlay

  ‘Once the doctor decided to do something you could no more change his mind than stop the tide from turning,’ Mrs Daws smiled wanly through her tears. ‘It was his time. To be honest, I’ve been that surprised he hung on so long, but he wouldn’t give in until he knew his beloved school was in safe hands.’

  ‘I still can’t believe he trusted me to take over the running of the school,’ Sarah cried.

  ‘He has … had a high regard for you, Miss Sullivan,’ Mrs Daws said, reaching for the teapot. ‘Tut, tut, while we’ve been wallowing, this tea’s stewed worse than prunes. I’ll make us another brew then go and sit with the doctor. I don’t like to think of him all by himself.’

  The cold light of dawn was creeping over the horizon as Harry hurried towards the school. Always an early riser, he’d woken with the feeling he needed to get to Red Cliffs as soon as possible. Letting himself into the hall, he sensed the stillness and knew.

  Sarah was hunched over the kitchen table, her blotchy face and red-rimmed eyes confirming his suspicion.

  ‘The doctor’s gone, then,’ he murmured quietly so as not to startle her from her thoughts.

  She nodded without looking up. ‘Mrs Daws is sitting with him.’

  ‘I’ll make us a hot drink. It’ll help revive you,’ he said, going over and putting the kettle back on the hob.

  ‘Why does everyone think a cup of tea will make things better?’ she asked.

  ‘Probably because it does. We’ll need to be strong for when the children come down, you know,’ he pointed out.

  ‘I couldn’t possibly face them yet,’ she cried.

  ‘Sarah, this has been a shock, even though it’s been on the cards for some time.’ In her misery, Sarah hardly noticed he’d used her Christian name. ‘However, the children will still need looking after, feeding, reprimanding probably,’ he said with forced cheerfulness. ‘You have to be strong for them. Drink this,’ he instructed, pushing a cup towards her. ‘I’m going upstairs to see Mrs Daws. April will be down in a moment. She idolized the doctor, for all she teased him, and will need comforting. Can you do that?’ As his hazel brown eyes stared directly into hers, she felt something stir within her.

  ‘Of course I can,’ she replied. ‘And I’ll make a start on the porridge for the children’s breakfast right away.’

  He nodded approvingly and strode from the room. Once out of Sarah’s sight, he had to stop in the hallway and wipe the tears from his cheeks. Taking a deep breath, he made his way upstairs. He knew he must be strong, for Mrs Daws had adored the doctor and was going to need his help for the next few days. And there was still another shock to come.

  ‘He’s gone isn’t he?’ April whispered as she came into the kitchen. ‘I know he has ’cos the house feels dead and still.’

  ‘Oh, April, I’m so sorry,’ Sarah said, going over and pulling the girl close.

  ‘Blimey, two cuddles in as many days. Aren’t I the lucky one?’ she quipped, but her lips were quivering, and her eyes looked desolate. ‘We’re going to have to be strong for the little ones, you know.’ Sarah nodded at the girl who, despite not being that grown up herself, was already thinking of others.

  ‘Have a cup of tea,’ Sarah offered, pouring the liquid from the pot, noticing as she did that Higgins had used fresh leaves. ‘It’s nice and strong and will make you …’

  ‘Feel better, miss? Not yet, it won’t. He were good to me, the doctor was. Treated me like a daughter, which is more than can be said for me own sodding father. Pardoning my language, miss,’ she added quickly before taking a sip from her cup. ‘Still, it warms yer insides, I suppose.’ Then she frowned. ‘You don’t think we’ll all be thrown out on the streets now he’s gone, do you?’

  ‘Over my dead body,’ Sarah exclaimed. Then realizing what she’d said, she clapped her hands over her mouth.

  ‘Guess that’s one each then,’ April muttered just as Pip came into the kitchen, his limp more pronounced than usual.

  ‘Thought you should know the vicar’s been and said his bits. He’s coming back to see you later, miss, to talk about his service. The men have arrived to take the doctor away. They’re loading his body onto their cart,’ he said quietly.

  ‘Already?’ Sarah exclaimed.

  Pip shrugged. ‘Waiting won’t change nuffin’, will it?’ Although he tried to be nonchalant, his words came out as a sob.

  April rushed over and threw her arms around him. ‘That’s right, you let it out, Pip. He were a right good ’un, weren’t he?’

  Realizing the others would be appearing soon, Sarah left them consoling each other while she set about preparing the breakfast. She wondered who would tell the children the sad news, but when they came downstairs it was apparent by their glum faces they already knew.

  Although they were subdued, the children’s instincts prevailed, and they tucked into their porridge as usual. Sarah had insisted April and Pip should sit in the kitchen while she supervised in the dining room. Having been at Red Cliffs the longest, they’d been hit hardest by the doctor’s death, so she thought it better to give them time alone to come to terms with the news. By the time Master Higgins appeared, the children had finished their meal.

  ‘Right, children,’ he said briskly. ‘Although this is a sad day, the doctor wouldn’t want us to waste it, so it’s lessons as usual. Please leave the table in an orderly manner and clear the dishes. I will see you in the schoolroom in fifteen minutes.’

  As the children groaned and got to their feet, Sarah turned to the master. ‘Surely, you are not expecting them to work today?’ she whispered in astonishment.

  He gave her a level look. ‘It will be better for them if they follow their normal routine as much as possible.’

  ‘But they’ve only just heard about the doctor …’ she began.

  ‘And will adjust better if their minds are occupied,’ he said firmly. ‘Mrs Daws is having a rest in her room, so please see that she is looked after when she comes downstairs.’

  ‘Of course,’ she spluttered, indignant that he should feel the need to mention it.

  ‘This is going to be a difficult day for us all, Miss Sullivan. The vicar is calling back at noon to speak to you, Mrs Daws and myself, so please have refreshment ready in the front room. Out of respect, we will not use the doctor’s office today. I will get April and Pip to supervise luncheon and see you then.’ With a brisk nod, he strode from the room, leaving Sarah gaping after him.

  Knowing there was no way she could bring herself to go into the doctor’s office so soon, Sarah prepared a vegetable broth. Whilst it simmered, she spent the rest of the morning baking bread. Although it took longer than usual for the kneading to soothe her frazzled nerves, in time she began to feel calmer. It was then that she remembered her promise to her godfather. Whilst there was no question she would do all in her power to see that his beloved Red Cliffs stayed open, she knew she was going to need the continued help of Mrs Daws and Master Higgins. They were stalwarts; Sarah knew she couldn’t manage without them.

  At a quarter to noon, April and Pip appeared to help supervise luncheon. Sarah decanted the broth into the serving dishes then set out the platters of bread. Whilst they were taking the things through to the dining room, Sarah laid the tea tray. She was just adding a plate of buttered bread when Mrs Daws appeared.

  ‘Sorry, despite everything, I fell asleep,’ the housekeeper said, looking sheepish.

  ‘That’s the best thing for you, Mrs Daws. Oh, there’s the doorbell,’ she exclaimed just as Maisie decided it was time to bang the gong.

  ‘Nothing changes,’ Mrs Daws grimaced, standing back as the children stampeded into the house. ‘I’ll let the vicar in if you bring the tray through.’

  ‘Here, let me take that,’ Master Higgins said, taking it from her. ‘Are you all right?’

  ‘Yes, I followed the normal routine and kept my mind occupied, just like teacher instructed,’ she retorted. He grimaced but didn’t reply.

  ‘Good afternoon, Miss
Sullivan,’ the vicar greeted her as she entered the room. ‘Please accept my condolences on your sad loss. The doctor was a very fine man indeed.’

  ‘Thank you, vicar, won’t you take a seat?’ she invited. Mrs Daws poured their tea and Master Higgins passed around the cups. This was certainly the day of tea, Sarah thought as the room fell silent. She saw the vicar glance at Higgins then down at his feet. Seeking to break the awkward silence, Sarah picked up the plate of bread and butter and proffered it to their guest.

  ‘You must be hungry, vicar. It is luncheon time, after all.’

  ‘Thank you, but no,’ he said quickly.

  ‘Well, I expect you’re in need of sustenance after teaching the children all morning,’ she said, turning to Master Higgins. He shook his head.

  ‘Mrs Daws?’

  ‘I really couldn’t,’ the housekeeper replied. Sarah put the plate back down on the tray and silence descended once more.

  ‘I suppose you’re here to discuss the funeral service,’ she said, thinking the vicar was being sensitive to their feelings.

  He glanced at Harry and cleared his throat. ‘Actually, I’m here to see what songs you would like sung at Samuel’s memorial service,’ he said, in a soft voice.

  ‘Memorial service? I don’t understand, surely we need to discuss arrangements for his funeral first?’ she cried, turning to both men in surprise.

  ‘There is to be no funeral, Miss Sullivan,’ the vicar said.

  ‘No funeral? I don’t understand. If it’s a question of finance for a coffin, I’m sure …’ Her voice petered out as the master raised his hand.

  ‘Miss Sullivan, there can be no funeral because there will be no body to bury,’ he said quietly, staring uneasily at her.

  ‘No body? I don’t understand,’ she gasped.

  ‘The doctor left express wishes his body be donated to the hospital for medical science,’ the vicar said.

  ‘You can’t mean it,’ she cried, her hand flying to her mouth in horror. ‘Why, they’ll cut him up and …’ Her voice trailed off. ‘Oh no, tell me that’s not true,’ she implored, staring from the vicar to the master and back again.

  ‘At the good doctor’s request, the money received is to be put into the school’s bank account. And,’ the vicar paused, ‘with there being no body to bury, the expense of a coffin and its burial has been spared.’

  Whilst Sarah didn’t agree with her godfather, she had to respect his selfless generosity.

  ‘Goodness, trust the doctor to do things differently,’ Mrs Daws said, admiration in her voice. ‘He always was a selfless man.’

  ‘Indeed he was, Mrs Daws,’ the vicar agreed, clearly feeling better now the news was out in the open. ‘I have brought my hymnal with me as the dear doctor expressly wished the children to choose those cheerful songs they like. That way, he reckoned they’d be sure to sing them so rousingly, he’d hear them from heaven.’

  Higgins and Mrs Daws duly chuckled, and Sarah stared at them in dismay. Had they no concern that the person they professed to love and admire was to have his body dissected and used for goodness-knows-what? Stomach heaving like the sea in storm, she fled from the room.

  14

  Christian whistled as he swaggered down the street in his new clothes. He knew he looked good and couldn’t help stopping to admire his reflection in a nearby shop window. Life was on the up and, on the strength of the news he’d received two days ago, he’d persuaded his tailor and shoemaker to let him wear their goods on approval. He’d had to promise he would settle their bills, with interest, as soon as he received his entitlement. They’d been hesitant at first but when he’d told them it was to meet an eminent member of the palace who could put prestigious business their way, they’d relented. It was amazing what the hint of a royal warrant could do, even if he had used the name of his local hostelry.

  He took the route away from the railway station. It was slightly longer but he didn’t want to be seen by any of his ‘agents’. You never knew who was watching, and although those gypsies had taken his wares with them, he couldn’t afford any connection being made. A stroke of pure genius, that, sweet-talking Madam Rosa into thinking she was the sexiest woman on two legs, then persuading her to hide his things in her van. Why, she was fifty if she was a day, he chuckled. Still, at a time of life when their own men treated them as if they were invisible, women liked to think they still had allure, and with a bit of flattery, he was adept at using this to his advantage.

  Getting his men to pick a fight with the gypos so that the police moved them on was another stroke of genius, even if he did say so himself. He’d promised Rosa he’d catch up with her and, when he’d completed his business, he would.

  Reaching the church without being spotted, he slunk inside. To his amazement the place was packed. When he was shown to a pew occupied by three pious-looking women, he had no choice but to squeeze alongside the enormous hippopotamus at the end. Whilst he liked a female with a rounded body, he couldn’t abide one who had gone to seed. When she smiled benignly in his direction, displaying teeth the colour of ditch water, he turned quickly away.

  Focusing his attention on the congregation, he wrinkled his nose at the ragamuffins in the front pews. What on earth were they doing, occupying prime position, when he, a relative no less, was consigned to the side? Well, those urchins from the school his uncle ran had better make the most of it, for as soon as the service was over, he’d claim his rights and send them on their way. He recognized that obnoxious schoolmaster Higgins and the housekeeper, Mrs Floors or something, but who was that wiry-haired woman in the green dress? Why was everyone wearing bright colours? Surely this was a funeral, he thought, staring down at his sober suit.

  As the service began he let his mind wander. He had such plans for the future. All he needed to do was get through this bit and he’d be in clover. At last his fortunes were changing. He was jolted from his musing by a loud voice.

  ‘And now some of the pupils of Red Cliffs would like to pay tribute to the wonderful man, Samuel Lawrence, who founded their school,’ the vicar beamed from his pulpit.

  ‘Right, children, remember this is your chance to show everyone how much the doctor meant to you,’ Higgins whispered, ushering them towards the aisle.

  ‘He were like a father to me, and I shall miss him every day,’ April’s voice sang out.

  ‘I’d like to say thank you, guv, for saving me from the sewers when I had typhus then nursing me back to health,’ Pip said, staring up at the ceiling as if he could see the doctor.

  Typhus, that meant rats, didn’t it? Christian gave another shudder. If he kept the place, he’d have to get it fumigated.

  ‘The doctor gave me a second chance. Told me if I learnt me lessons and stayed out of trouble, I’d get on in life. Well, the lessons are easy but I’ll try harder not to get into trouble,’ Edith declared, smiling sweetly. Remembering the earwig incident, Sarah and Mrs Daws exchanged looks as they smiled through their tears. Then it was time for the terrible twins, as they were known, Brown and Black, to say their piece.

  ‘He were a good ’un, an’ no mistake,’ Black said.

  ‘Yeah, we kicked our sock-ball through his window and smashed the glass. He didn’t holler like the master,’ Brown grinned as a ripple of laughter went around the congregation.

  ‘No, he told us about con-, conse-, oh, them things that happen when you’ve done somefink. Like, we might have hurt someone. Still, we copped it really, ’cos we’re still paying for the glass out of our wages,’ Black sighed, theatrically.

  ‘It is the school’s ethos to make the children aware that things cost money and that they have a responsibility to respect property,’ Higgins explained. This time the congregation murmured approval.

  ‘He told me I was a good girl ’cos I didn’t pee my pants no more,’ Maisie said, clearly anxious not to be left out. A titter rippled around the church.

  ‘And finally, we have our Monday child,’ Higgins announced. ‘She has only b
een at Red Cliffs for a few weeks and has yet to find her voice. However, she would like to show you, in her own way, how the doctor made a difference to her life.’ As he turned to the little girl and smiled reassuringly, Sarah held her breath. Monday stared at the sea of faces then grinned and rubbed her tummy.

  ‘Thank you, Monday, for showing us how much you appreciate the good food you have received at Red Cliffs. You see, everyone, it’s purely because of the doctor’s hard work and generosity that these children have a roof over their heads, food in their stomachs, receive an education and are thus given a chance to make their way in the world.’

  ‘Thank you, Master Higgins. A fine tribute to a fine man,’ the vicar nodded. ‘We will now end this service with the children singing their school anthem during which the collection plate will be circulated. As the proceeds are going to the school to ensure the doctor’s good work continues, I am sure you will all dig deeply into your pockets and purses.’

  The organist struck a chord, and the children began to sing their school song:

  God bless our Red Cliffs School

  where love and truth do rule

  We are taught to earn our bread

  By working hard to be well read

  and learn our sums to pay our way

  While the pupils sang their hearts out, Christian watched the collection plate, his eyes widening at the ever-growing pile of pound notes. Talk about easy money, he thought, reaching into his pocket and drawing out his wallet. As the salver was passed to him, he made a big show of brandishing his note as he carefully laid it down.

  Smiling benignly, he passed it to the large lady next to him, who added a small coin before quickly handing it on. Christian turned to watch the ragamuffins, his hand going to his pocket, where he placed the little pile of notes he’d lifted. Talk about a bonus. It had been worth suffering the service after all.

  God bless our Red Cliffs School,

  where love and truth do rule.

  As the children finished their song, the vicar smiled down at them.