Monday's Child

by Linda Finlay

  All was quiet as he let himself in through the gates and made his way to the vegetable plot. The cabbages and parsnips looked healthy, pretty even, their leaves sparkling with the morning dew, he thought, carefully lifting some with his spade and placing them in a sturdy old trug. Steady on, Harry, he told himself. You’ll be locked up, waxing lyrical over a few vegetables like that. He added carrots and onions from the store shed, then, whistling happily, made his way into the kitchen.

  ‘Goodness me, someone’s cheerful this morning,’ Mrs Daws greeted him, straightening up from beside the range, where she’d been riddling the embers back into life.

  ‘It’s a fine day out there, Mrs Daws,’ he said, placing the basket of produce on the kitchen table.

  ‘Is it, indeed?’ she asked, darting him a knowing look. ‘I’ll get Pip to bring in some potatoes to go with those, and we’ll have the makings of a fine stew,’ she added, nodding to the basket.

  ‘I spoke to farmer Jim on the way here. He’s out and about but hobbling on sticks. I said I’d take the boys up to the farm to help out this afternoon.’

  ‘That’s a good idea. Poor Bess is having a right old time of his moaning,’ the housekeeper clucked. Harry was just about to tell her about the eggs when April came bustling in, a bundle of sheets under her arm.

  ‘Maisie’s wet the bed, so I’ll put these out in the wash-house.’

  ‘Oh no, and she’s been dry for a while now,’ Mrs Daws tutted.

  ‘It wasn’t really her fault, Mrs Daws, she was too scared to get out of bed and use the pot in case she was covered in blood.’

  ‘Whatever gave her such a notion?’ the housekeeper cried.

  April opened her mouth to reply, then looked awkwardly over at Harry.

  ‘Don’t mind me, April, I’m off to see Miss Sullivan. No doubt she’s already in her office.’

  ‘Been up since before light. That woman works all hours on them papers,’ the housekeeper sighed. ‘She’ll wear herself out at this rate.’

  ‘I’ll go and help,’ he promised. ‘See you at breakfast.’

  Harry popped his head around the office door to find Sarah delving into one of the boxes that were lying alongside the desk.

  ‘Finding more paperwork to play with, oh crepuscular one?’ Harry laughed.

  ‘You’re a fine one to speak, Harry Higgins. Why, it’s just past dawn and here you are, checking nothing untoward has happened to your beloved Red Cliffs,’ she replied, grimacing down at the papers she had retrieved.

  ‘A bit early to be hunting for treasure, isn’t it?’ he quipped.

  Instead of laughing, she let out a long sigh. ‘Both the solicitor and bank manager told me in no uncertain terms that I need to make sure the school’s books are up to date. They have to be checked by the accountant before we can apply for any more funding.’

  Picking up a handful of papers, he raised his brows. ‘Cripes, you’ll have a fine old job deciphering some of these. They’re all foxed.’

  ‘Foxed?’ she asked.

  ‘It means they’re all yellowed and spotted with age.’

  ‘Well, why didn’t you just say that?’ she snapped. Then, seeing his crestfallen look, she added in a softer voice, ‘Sorry, it’s just that all this seems horribly daunting.’

  He stood there, taking in the dark smudges under her eyes and the tendril of hair escaping its braid, but thought it prudent not to mention the smut of dust on her nose.

  ‘I hope you are not overdoing things, Sarah?’ he asked.

  ‘Well, we can’t all have the sleep of the gods, Harry. How is your mother?’ she asked, belatedly remembering she’d been poorly.

  ‘Much better, thank you. She had a turn yesterday morning, but Dr Hawkins gave her some medicine, and she’s right as rain again. Father and she were very close and she never really got over the shock of losing him,’ he explained.

  Sarah nodded. ‘It took me ages to get used to the idea of not seeing my father again. Look, why don’t we sit down? There’s something I need to discuss with you.’

  ‘Sounds serious,’ he said, straddling the chair in front of the desk. ‘Before I forget, though. Your godfather took the health and welfare of the pupils here very seriously. He made a point of examining them at least once a month but …’ Not wishing to upset her, he let his sentence trail away.

  Despite her fatigue, she was quick on the uptake. ‘Now he’s no longer here, we need to see about engaging the services of another doctor?’

  He nodded. ‘Dr Hawkins, who attends Mother, asked how the children were and mentioned he would be pleased to look after them, if it would be of any help. He was a great friend of Dr Lawrence and intimated he would be happy to accept a nominal fee.’

  Sarah smiled. ‘That’s very kind of him. Everyone seems to have been a friend of my godfather.’

  At this, his expression changed. ‘Not everyone,’ he replied. ‘There are many around here who would like to see the school moved. They think the state of the building here lowers the tone of the neighbourhood. At the risk of sounding disrespectful, they do rather have a point,’ he said, gesturing to the shabby decor.

  ‘Perhaps we could draw on some of the funds in the bank or ask this benefactor for some, whoever he is,’ she replied, looking at him pointedly, but he wasn’t to be drawn. ‘Apparently there has been an offer from a developer wanting to purchase Red Cliffs.’

  ‘Yes, the doctor mentioned it. Over his dead body was his answer. Oh, I’m sorry,’ he added, flushing at his insensitivity.

  ‘It’s all right, Harry,’ she whispered. ‘We couldn’t sell, even if we wanted to. Christian has contested the will and everything’s up in the air until it’s sorted. I just can’t help worrying about the pupils. I promised my godfather I’d keep Red Cliffs running, but …’ Her voice trailed away on a sigh.

  ‘Knowing the doctor, he will have ensured his will was drawn up correctly,’ Harry replied, her crestfallen look tugging at his heartstrings so that he was seized with the urge to pull her into his arms.

  ‘Of course,’ she replied, making an effort to pull herself together. ‘Mr Fothergill mentioned applying to the council for grants, but I was astounded at how much bureaucracy seems to be involved. The books have to be audited, Red Cliffs inspected …’ Her voice trailed off. ‘I had no idea it was all so complicated.’

  Harry smiled gently. ‘I wouldn’t say it was complicated. Just that there are procedures to follow. The good doctor knew how important it was to keep on the right side of the powers that be. If I can help in any way, please feel free to ask,’ he said, pulling out his pocket watch and frowning. ‘Nearly time to supervise the feeding of the five thousand, as Mrs Daws puts it. Unless there’s anything else you want to discuss with me?’

  ‘Actually, Harry, there is.’ She paused and seemed to cast around for the right words. ‘Apparently, to save them from a life of whoring, the girls were given a supposed lesson on morals yesterday, and it left them very confused, to say the least. Miss Green not only misled them about the facts of life, she scared the wits out of the little ones.’

  ‘Ah,’ Harry nodded, the earlier statement from April suddenly making sense.

  ‘Is that all you can say?’ she cried. Then, after a concerted effort to control her emotions, she went on more quietly. ‘I expressly told her to teach the girls stitches suitable for making aprons, and she completely ignored me. In the light of what Mr Fothergill told me about the conditions for funding to be granted, along with the incident in the coal store, I have decided the woman should be dismissed.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t think …’ Harry began, but she held up her hand.

  ‘My mind is made up on this. I will undertake to look after the girls until a suitable replacement is found.’

  Harry looked at her determined face and felt his stomach sink. She really didn’t have a clue about the way Red Cliffs operated, and it seemed he was going to have to enlighten her.

  ‘You have formal training as a schoolmistress?’
he asked.

  ‘No, I do not. However, I do know how to prepare the girls for the outside world, and I am certainly more proficient in needlework skills. There is nothing Miss Green can do for Red Cliffs that I cannot.’

  Harry swallowed hard. ‘You were talking about school inspections earlier, Sarah.’

  ‘What has that got to do with anything?’

  ‘Everything. You see, the Mr Green who is employed by the local authority to carry out these inspections just happens to be the schoolmistress’s father. So, you see, we cannot afford to fall out with Miss Green, let alone dispense with her services. The consequences for Red Cliffs would be catastrophic.’

  ‘But that’s blackmail, Harry,’ Sarah spluttered.

  ‘Not blackmail, just the way things are, I’m afraid,’ he replied.

  Sarah thought for a moment. ‘Is that how she got her job here?’ she asked, the light dawning.

  Harry shrugged but said nothing. Better to leave her to draw her own conclusions, he thought, getting to his feet. ‘Please do not do anything too hastily before you know how it all works around here.’

  Although she nodded, the set of her face told a different story.

  21

  As Harry entered the kitchen, Mrs Daws looked up from stirring the porridge.

  ‘Goodness, Master Higgins, you look like you’ve got the weight of the world on those shoulders.’

  ‘Hmm,’ Harry replied, still distracted from his conversation with Sarah. ‘Truth to tell, I’m a bit worried about Miss Sullivan. She seems to have got it into her head that Miss Green’s services should be dispensed with.’

  ‘Have you told her about the connection between that girl’s father and the local authority?’

  ‘I explained about the school inspections and asked her not to do anything until she understands how everything works, but …’ He shrugged.

  ‘Well, perhaps when she’s had a chance to think, she’ll see you have to look at the wider picture, as the dear doctor always said. Mind you, that Miss Green has a lot to answer for. Young April was embarrassed to explain in front of you what the woman had told them. Apparently, she took it upon herself to illustrate how their body worked,’ the housekeeper spluttered. ‘She …’ Her voice trailed off and two pink spots appeared on her cheeks.

  ‘No need to explain, I understand what you mean,’ he replied.

  ‘You do?’ she asked, looking surprised.

  ‘I might be a bachelor, Mrs Daws, but I do have a grasp of the facts of life.’

  ‘Really? Goodness,’ the woman muttered.

  ‘In fact, you could say I’m an authority on the birds and bees.’ He grinned as the housekeeper’s eyes widened in surprise.

  ‘And the stork, Master Higgins?’ April asked, coming through from the dining room.

  ‘That’s quite enough, young lady. If you’ve finished laying the table, you can take these plates of bread through.’

  ‘Yes, Mrs Daws,’ April grinned.

  ‘I never know if that girl’s winding me up or not.’ The housekeeper sighed. ‘You wouldn’t believe the things that Miss Green told the girls. I’m thinking I’d best have a proper little chat with them whilst we’re doing our housekeeping skills this afternoon. No good teaching them how to run a house if they don’t know about … well, things,’ she amended.

  Harry chuckled. ‘Good idea. They need to know who they can turn to if they have any questions.’

  ‘Trouble is, this place is like a Chinese laundry, and if the boys get wind of what Miss Green’s been saying, well, I’ll leave you to draw your own conclusions, Master Higgins.’

  ‘I’ll have a little man-chat when we go up to the farm this afternoon.’

  ‘You do that, but for heaven’s sake, tell them the proper facts. I’ve heard enough about birds, bees and rabbits to last a lifetime. Not to mention that blinking stork.’

  ‘It’s a shame it’s not lambing time,’ he quipped, only half joking. Seeing animals being born often triggered questions at a level they understood. The housekeeper threw him one of her looks. ‘Don’t worry, Mrs Daws, I’ll start by teaching them about showing respect for you wondrous women.’ He chuckled again as he turned to go, then winced as her wet cloth hit him in the back of the neck. His protest was interrupted by a tapping on the door.

  ‘Good morning, Walt,’ he said, opening the door to find the poacher on the doorstep.

  ‘Mornin’, Master. Just happen to come by these,’ he winked, holding up his knapsack, from which two fluffy tails poked. ‘Thought Mrs Daws could make a nice stew or pie for you all.’

  ‘I’m sure she’ll be delighted. Go on in, the kettle’s boiling,’ he managed to say, turning away quickly before the man could see him laughing. He could just imagine the expression on the housekeeper’s face. Normally she’d be only too grateful to receive rabbits, which would help her to eke out their precious provisions, but after their discussion just now, he couldn’t help feeling Walt’s timing wasn’t quite right. Still, at least it had cheered him up, he thought, whistling as he made his way towards the schoolroom. He’d prepare the room for the morning’s lesson then return for his breakfast. Hopefully, by then, Sarah would have had time to think things through and realize that getting rid of Miss Green was not an option.

  His musings were brought to an abrupt halt when he came across the eldest boy in his class deep in conversation with the two youngest. As the boy wasn’t known for his articulation skills, Harry’s suspicion was aroused.

  ‘Everything all right, boys?’ he asked casually.

  ‘Yeah,’ Bunter muttered, nudging the others who quickly nodded.

  ‘Hmm,’ he replied, giving them a stern look. ‘Well, you’d best get those hands washed ready for breakfast. The gong will be sounding in a few moments.’ He watched them scamper to the pump, then sighed. That they’d been up to no good, he was certain; he could smell mischief at a thousand paces.

  By the time he entered the dining room, the children were standing behind their chairs. He glanced at Sarah as he passed, but she was busy saying something to Monday and didn’t notice him.

  ‘Put your hands together for grace,’ he instructed. No sooner had he finished than there was the usual scraping of chairs and buzz of anticipation as Pip and April served the porridge.

  ‘What are you doing, Bunter?’ he roared.

  ‘Fort Byrd had somefink in ’is porwidge.’

  ‘Well, concentrate on your own food. Brown, pass the plate of bread down this way, please.’

  As the children tucked into their meals, Harry looked over at Sarah and saw she was berating April.

  ‘I really don’t think it matters which hand Monday holds her spoon in, April.’

  ‘But we’ve been taught it’s ignorant to use the wrong one,’ the girl persisted.

  Harry frowned and turned his attention back to his own breakfast. Surely Miss Sullivan knew that no child would ever be accepted by society if they didn’t hold their cutlery properly, or their chalks, come to that. He sighed inwardly, and vowed to mention it after the meal when they were by themselves.

  ‘Right, if everyone’s finished, you may clear the tables. Apart from those on washing-up duty, you will run the customary three times around the grounds before making your way to your desks.’

  Harry waited until the dining room had emptied then took his mug over to Sarah.

  ‘I couldn’t help hearing you taking April to task. She was right to correct Monday, you know. It’s her duty to ensure the little ones eat properly.’ He saw Sarah bristle.

  ‘And properly means not letting a child use their dominant hand?’ she replied.

  ‘Etiquette dictates which hand should be used to hold cutlery correctly. We want the children to be accepted in society when they leave here. Most will seek employment in one of the big houses and it is our responsibility to ensure they are prepared.’

  She stared at him for a long moment then sighed. ‘Yes, I suppose you’re right. It’s certainly time societ
y was more forward thinking, though. I mean, it’s natural for a child to use their dominant hand and Monday can’t help it being her left. It’s not fair,’ she declared.

  Harry stared at her thoughtfully then finished his tea before replying. ‘It’s also not fair on April if she’s told off for doing the very thing she’s been asked to do.’

  ‘I’ll apologize, of course. I seem to be getting a lot of things wrong, don’t I?’ she sighed.

  ‘And a lot of things right too,’ he assured her quickly. He hesitated for a moment, not wishing to break the thin thread that had been spun between them, but he knew he would be failing in his duty as master if he didn’t give the children all a fair chance. ‘I notice Monday still isn’t speaking.’

  ‘No,’ she sighed. ‘I guess the shock of her ordeal must have gone deeper than we thought.’

  ‘I have been watching her in class, and she seems quick on the uptake, which is why I think she would fare better if she were placed in the home of the Deaconess.’

  ‘No,’ Sarah snapped, then made an effort to control her feelings. ‘She has settled well here and is great friends with Maisie. Couldn’t we give it a little more time?’ she pleaded.

  ‘It’s true, Maisie and she seem to be able to communicate without words,’ he agreed, and her hopes lifted, only to be dashed again as he continued. ‘However, Monday needs to be encouraged out of the shell she is hiding in, and it will take time and effort to do that. It is also important that dear Maisie learns to interact with the others. We are simply not being fair to either child.’

  ‘I’ll spend more time with Monday, then,’ Sarah said quickly.

  Harry smiled gently. ‘You may have every intention of doing that, Sarah, but we both know the running of Red Cliffs makes considerable demands on your time. The Deaconess runs a much smaller establishment and would be able to devote more time to Monday.’

  ‘Yes, I remember my godfather saying before he …’ she blinked hard, ‘ … passed away.’

  ‘Think about it, eh?’ he urged gently. ‘We want the best for all the children in our care, don’t we?’