by Linda Finlay
‘Thank you, pupils of Red Cliffs School, for giving a fine rendition of your school anthem. The doctor would be proud of you. Now we shall finish our service with a prayer.’
After the service, Christian managed to dodge the outstretched hand of the vicar as he followed the crocodile of children out of the church. He then kept a discreet distance as they made their way back to Red Cliffs. He wished they would hurry for he didn’t want to keep the lawyer waiting. By the time he reached the house, he could hear Higgins taking a well-dressed man to task.
‘But surely it would be improper to conduct such business directly after the doctor’s service?’
‘I have my instructions, sir,’ the man replied.
The master turned to the housekeeper. ‘Mrs Daws, will you please take the children indoors whilst we sort this out.’
‘Of course, Master Higgins. Come along, everyone, it’s nearly time for luncheon.’ The children cheered and pushed through the gates,
‘I was given to understand we were meeting at your office on Wednesday,’ Christian heard the woman in the green dress and shawl say. He frowned. Surely he recognized that voice?
‘That was indeed the case, Miss Sullivan,’ the lawyer replied. ‘However, I received instructions that the will is to be read here, today, directly after the service.’
‘Who gave such instruction?’ Sarah asked.
‘I did,’ Christian replied, moving closer, certain now that this woman was the girl he used to play with at family gatherings. ‘Goodness, that’s never little Sarah Sulks,’ he said, feigning surprise.
‘Christian? Goodness, I would never have recognized you if you hadn’t used that horrible name,’ Sarah replied.
‘Mr Lawrence,’ Higgins frowned. ‘I might have known you’d be behind this.’
‘Might I suggest we go inside,’ the lawyer said, shifting his oxtail leather Gladstone bag from hand to hand.
‘Forgive me, you are Mr …?’ Sarah looked at him enquiringly.
‘Fothergill. And you must be Miss Sullivan,’ he replied.
‘And I am Mr Lawrence, nephew of the late Dr Lawrence,’ Christian announced, anxious to take charge of the proceedings. ‘Higgins, perhaps you would lead the way to my uncle’s office.’ The master narrowed his eyes but Sarah touched his arm.
‘Please?’ she asked softly. ‘I don’t want there to be any trouble today.’
Harry stared at her earnest expression and nodded. ‘As you wish, Miss Sullivan,’ he replied, leading the way up the drive, but not before she’d seen his lips tighten into a line.
‘Would you like some tea, sir?’ Mrs Daws asked as soon as they entered the hall.
Mr Fothergill smiled. ‘That is very kind but I think I’d rather conduct our business first.’
‘Well, I’ll go and see to the children then.’
‘You are, sorry, were, the doctor’s housekeeper?’ he enquired.
‘I had that honour, sir. He was a fine man,’ Mrs Daws replied, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.
‘He certainly was, and I am sorry for your loss. Now, if you would step inside with us, you will find this concerns you too.’
The housekeeper raised her brow. ‘Really? I can’t think how,’ she murmured. ‘Oh, well, April and Pip are in the kitchen so it should be all right.’
‘Do you think we might get on with things?’ Christian snapped. ‘Some of us are busy, you know.’
‘Quite so, sir,’ Fothergill replied, making his way past Higgins, who was holding open the door.
‘Right, if you would all like to be seated,’ Fothergill said, sidling his way around to the other side of the desk.
‘I’m sure there’s really no need for the staff to be here,’ Christian protested, glaring at Higgins.
‘There is every need, sir. If you would kindly take your seat, we can begin,’ the lawyer replied, opening his case and drawing out a sheaf of papers. Then he donned a pair of silver-rimmed spectacles, cleared his throat and, without looking up, began reading.
‘This is the last Will and Testament of me, Samuel Ernest Lawrence, written this day …’
‘Oh, do cut to the chase,’ Christian interrupted.
‘Very well, Mr Lawrence, if everyone else is agreeable?’ Fothergill asked, staring at each of them in turn.
‘For heaven’s sake, get on with it,’ Christian growled. The solicitor raised his brows then continued reading.
‘I leave all of my estate including the house and school known as Red Cliffs to my god-daughter, Miss Sarah Sullivan …’
‘What!’ Sarah exclaimed, staring at the man in astonishment.
‘No! I object, your honour,’ Christian shouted.
‘This is not a court of law, Mr Lawrence,’ Fothergill said mildly.
‘But Lawrence was my uncle. Red Cliffs is mine. It is my birthright.’
‘I believe Dr Lawrence wanted to ensure the continued running of his life’s work and as such appointed …’
‘Never! I will contest it,’ Christian spluttered, jumping to his feet. ‘I suppose you came here grovelling and ingratiating yourself …’ he added, glaring down at Sarah.
‘Mr Lawrence, I must protest,’ Fothergill interrupted. ‘The doctor went to a lot of trouble to ensure his wishes would be carried out. I can assure you that his will is indisputable. You are named as a beneficiary, so if you will please be seated I will resume.’ Reluctantly, Christian did as the man asked, then Fothergill cleared his throat and continued.
‘Now, in addition to the estate, property and contents being left to Miss Sullivan, there are four named bequests. Firstly, to Mrs Daws. As a token of my thanks for many years’ loyal service, Mrs Daws has the right to dwell at Red Cliffs for the rest of her years.’ There was a sharp intake of breath and Fothergill raised his brow over his spectacles at Christian. ‘She will also receive the sum of £100 to spend as she wishes.’
‘Oh my,’ the housekeeper murmured. ‘I wouldn’t know what to do with such money, so it can go straight into the school’s funds, sir, if you would be so kind.’
‘As you wish. I’m sure the doctor would have appreciated such a generous gesture. Now, to Master Higgins, the sum of £100 and the right to reside at Red Cliffs should he so wish.’
The master smiled. ‘I think my mother might have something to say about that. However, like Mrs Daws, I would like my money to go to the school. It would hardly seem right taking anything from a man who dedicated his life so selflessly to Red Cliffs.’
‘Admirable, sir. I can see why Dr Lawrence esteemed his staff so much.’
‘But what about me?’ blurted Christian, unable to contain himself any longer.
Fothergill looked back down at his papers. ‘To my nephew, Christian Lawrence, I bequeath my gold watch and the sum of £100.’
‘One hundred pounds!’ Christian exclaimed. ‘Why, that’s …’
‘If I might continue, sir,’ Fothergill said. ‘This sum is to be held in trust to be released on the birth of his first son.’
‘What! That’s preposterous. Why, I’m not even married, nor do I intend putting my head in the noose.’ He turned to Sarah. ‘This house is my birthright. It was promised to me, and I can prove it,’ he shouted. ‘You will be hearing from my lawyer soon, Fothergill.’
‘As you wish, sir, However, I can assure you …’
‘And as for you, Sarah Sulks, what the hell do you know about running a school? Have you any had formal training?’
‘Well, no, but …’
‘So you’re not even qualified. Well, wait until the authorities hear about this. Mark my words, Sarah Sulks, your days here are numbered.’
Sarah opened her mouth to protest, but Christian had flounced from the room, slamming the door behind him.
15
They sat in stunned silence for a few moments then Higgins spoke.
‘Good riddance, I say. That man has no interest in this place whatsoever.’
Sarah stared woefully at the master. ‘Chris
tian is right, though. What do I know about running a school? When my godfather made me promise to continue with the running of Red Cliffs, I had no idea he meant to actually bequeath it to me,’ she said quietly. ‘Am I up to the task, I ask myself?’
‘You have a good heart, Miss Sullivan, and that’s as good a start as any,’ the housekeeper said. ‘The good doctor wouldn’t have asked you to run his beloved Red Cliffs unless he was confident you could. As for that no-good nephew of his, why, he never visited the poor doctor, even after Master Higgins sent him a letter saying he was ill.’
‘Thank you for your faith in me, Mrs Daws,’ Sarah said, smiling gratefully at the woman. ‘With your help, I shall endeavour to ensure the school continues to run as my godfather wished. You will help me, won’t you?’ she asked, looking askance at the housekeeper and schoolmaster.
‘Of course, my dear. That goes without saying,’ Mrs Daws replied.
‘And I will persist in trying to instil a modicum of learning and discipline into those little heathen heads.’ Higgins agreed gruffly, but Sarah saw the twinkle in his eye. ‘I will also pledge my support to assist in any way I can with the running of Red Cliffs.’
‘Thank you, Master Higgins. It will be a blessing to be able to draw upon your experience, for I owe it to my godfather to do my best for Red Cliffs.’ They were all silent for a few moments, as the gravity of the situation sank in. The hush was eventually broken by the sound of a gentle cough.
‘There will be the formalities and paperwork to go through, Miss Sullivan. However, I think that would be better left for another day,’ Mr Fothergill said softly.
‘Thank you,’ Sarah replied, relief flooding through her. She’d had quite enough to take in for one day. Then a thought struck her. ‘You said there were four bequests, I believe?’
‘Indeed,’ the lawyer nodded. ‘The fourth beneficiary is to receive personal effects, estimated to be worth no more than £100.’
‘And who might that be?’ she asked.
The lawyer began gathering up his papers. ‘I am afraid I am not at liberty to disclose the name, only the amount. The doctor entrusted these items to my safe keeping for onward transmission when he knew his health was failing,’ he muttered. ‘Now, if you have no other questions?’
‘I’m sure I will have, Mr Fothergill, but to be honest, my mind’s whirling from shock at the moment.’
‘I understand, Miss Sullivan. Perhaps you would like to arrange a meeting when you are ready to discuss the details.’ He handed her a gold-edged business card. ‘The doctor was a good friend as well as a client, and I have every admiration for the way he selflessly turned his family house into both school and home for the ragged children. Anything I can help with, you only have to ask,’ he said, picking up his bag.
‘Thank you, Mr Fothergill,’ she replied.
He nodded, made his way to the door, and then hesitated. Turning back to Sarah, he cleared his throat before saying, ‘Miss Sullivan, I think you should be aware that Mr Lawrence is likely to make trouble. I’ve seen it before when someone doesn’t get what they think they are entitled to. Should you require any help before our next meeting, please contact me. Good day to you all.’
‘Goodness,’ Sarah murmured, sinking back in her seat.
‘Well, I think we all need a cup of tea after that,’ Mrs Daws said.
‘Ah, the panacea of the English,’ Higgins commented.
‘Don’t you use them fancy words on me, Harry Higgins. Come along, let’s go and see what those children have been up to in our absence.’ The housekeeper got to her feet.
‘I’ll just take a moment to go through some things in here,’ Sarah said, staring at the paperwork that had been hurriedly pushed into a pile for their impromptu meeting. ‘I haven’t been in here since my godfather,’ she paused and took a deep breath, ‘passed on,’ she finished quietly.
‘Right, Mrs Daws, I for one could do with a cup of tea, so you can make it while I see to the children. Meanwhile, Miss Sullivan here can get used to playing boss.’ Although his words were brisk, Sarah could see the sympathy in his eyes.
As the door closed behind them, she stared around the room, remembering the day she’d first come here. Glancing at her godfather’s chair, she could picture him sitting there, telling her he’d like her support with the administration.
‘You knew all along it would be more than that, didn’t you, Uncle?’ she whispered. ‘If only I’d known, I would have spent my time getting to grips with the actual running of this place rather than trying to sort out the bookwork.’ There’s so much I need to know, she thought, staring down at the sea of papers and stacks of boxes full of she knew not what. Shaking her head to clear it, she caught sight of her uncle’s muffler and battered old hat on the stand and felt the tears welling.
Suddenly the door flew open, and April and Pip burst into the room, followed by a worried-looking Mrs Daws. They were clearly distraught as they stood there, staring wide-eyed at Sarah.
‘I’m sorry, Miss Sullivan, I told them you weren’t to be bothered, but …’ the housekeeper began.
‘Mrs Daws said we should stay in the kitchen ’til you came, but we couldn’t wait no longer,’ April cried.
‘’Cos we needs to know if what that horrid man said was true,’ Pip said.
‘What man?’ Sarah asked. ‘You mean the lawyer, Mr Fothergill?’
‘The geezer with the posh bag? Nah, the fair-haired toff,’ Pip scowled.
‘He said Red Cliffs was his and we should start packing ’cos he’s going to sell it,’ April burst out.
‘I knew he was a rum ’un, but to tell the children that,’ Mrs Daws spluttered.
‘An’ he said with our ’flictions we’d end up back on the streets where we belonged,’ Pip muttered.
Sarah frowned. Flictions? ‘Oh, you mean afflictions. What a nasty thing to say. Afflictions means …’ she began.
‘Does it mean we’re going to be thrown outta here?’ Pip asked.
‘No, Pip, it most certainly does not,’ she said firmly, staring at their scared little faces. ‘Mr Lawrence was in a bad mood because he thought he was going to inherit Red Cliffs, but the good doctor has left the school to me instead.’
‘Really, miss?’ April cried.
‘But you’s a woman, miss,’ Pip said. ‘A very nice one,’ he added quickly. ‘But everyone knows it’s men who run things.’
‘Now, listen to me, young man. I may well be a woman but the dear doctor has entrusted the running of Red Cliffs to me, and I intend to take up the challenge. However, I shall need your help.’
‘You can count on me, miss,’ April replied eagerly.
‘Me an’ all if it means we can stay. The little ’uns will need extra looking after, especially at night when they thinks the bogey man’s come to get them.’
‘Yes, they’ve been right upset since the doctor died,’ April agreed.
‘The children look up to you and need to believe what you tell them,’ Sarah said, staring from April to Pip. ‘Master Higgins is going to explain that things are to continue as they always have, but the doctor’s passing has come as a shock, and they will need you to comfort and reassure them. Can you do that?’
‘’Cors we can,’ Pip said, puffing out his chest.
‘The doctor said he could rely on us and you can too,’ April assured her.
‘Thank you. We will work as a team and keep Red Cliffs running in the same way the doctor did. Now, there’s the gong. By the crazy way it’s being banged, I’m guessing Maisie’s hungry,’ she laughed to lighten the mood.
‘Oh, blimey, I’m meant to be dishing up,’ April said, flying from the room.
‘You really think you can do this, miss?’ Pip asked.
‘Yes, I do,’ Sarah assured him. ‘And, Pip, no more about me being a woman, eh? The world is changing, and females are going to have more of a say in how things are run.’
‘If you say so, miss,’ he replied, then followed quickly after April.
Sarah sighed then saw Mrs Daws was shaking her head.
‘You don’t think I’m up to it?’ she whispered.
‘I think you’re more than up to it, Miss Sullivan. Only minutes ago, those children were petrified, and now look at them. If I could get my hands on that good-for-nothing Christian, I’d … well, let’s just say I’d teach him a lesson he’d never forget.’
To all intents and purposes, things carried on as normal at Red Cliffs over the next few days. April helped Mrs Daws with the household and kitchen duties while Master Higgins continued the running of both the schoolroom and workshops. Pip went about his duties, deferring to the master as he had previously to the doctor. Meanwhile, Sarah started to attack the paperwork with renewed enthusiasm, and began to make some sort of order of it all. While everyone was very sad at the passing of the doctor, life had to carry on.
‘Mrs Laver has laundered them few clothes of the doctor’s and wonders if she could take them to the poor-house. They’re not up to much but might serve a turn for some old soul,’ Mrs Daws said, placing a cup of tea on the desk beside Sarah.
‘Of course, he would have approved of that, wouldn’t he?’ The housekeeper nodded but instead of leaving as she normally would, stood there looking anxious. ‘Is something wrong, Mrs Daws?’
‘I don’t want to trouble you when you got all this to sort out, but it’s that travelling schoolmistress.’
‘Miss Green? What’s the matter with her?’ Sarah asked, putting down her pen and giving the housekeeper her full attention. ‘Sit down and tell me what’s worrying you.’
‘Wouldn’t say no,’ the housekeeper said, sinking into a chair. ‘Been on me feet since before dawn, not that I’m complaining, Miss Sullivan,’ she added quickly.
‘You really must say if you’ve too much to manage. I’ve been thinking it wouldn’t do Edith any harm to be given some more responsibility. Might channel some of that excess energy,’ Sarah said with a smile. The housekeeper just nodded. ‘Come on then, tell me what’s worrying you.’
‘That Miss Green has always had a spiteful side, I’ve thought. Anyway, since the doctor passed, I’ve noticed she’s become more heavy-handed with the girls, and I don’t like it,’ the housekeeper said. She sat there, wringing her apron in her hands, and Sarah could see it was serious.