Monday's Child

by Linda Finlay

  ‘Her panacea for everything,’ Harry nodded. ‘I’ll see you later, Mr Collyer.’

  As the door closed behind him, Mr Collyer turned to Sarah. ‘I see you’re dressed to go out. Please don’t let me hold you up any longer, Miss Sullivan.’

  Sarah reached up and touched her hat in surprise. ‘Goodness, I’d forgotten. Don’t worry, Mr Collyer, getting Monday’s future sorted out is the most important thing right now. You obviously want her to leave with you, but do you have anywhere to take her?’

  The man slapped the side of his head. ‘I’d not even thought. Forgive me, Miss Sullivan, this has all been such a shock. I still can’t believe that terrible landlady threw my poor Holly out, and her expectin’ too. Do you know, Sergeant Watts said she’s renting out the place to holidaymakers? Makes more money out of them, apparently.’

  Sarah sighed. ‘I understand there is a lot of that going on at the moment,’ she replied.

  ‘Well, it ain’t right, throwing decent folk out of their homes for profit,’ he cried.

  Sarah felt a prickle of unease creep up her spine, for worries about the school’s future were never far away. Determined to focus on the man’s plight, she pushed her own concerns to the back of her mind.

  ‘Do you have any other family, Mr Collyer?’ Sarah asked gently.

  He shook his head. ‘Ran away to sea when I was a nipper. Wanted the excitement of seeing a bit of the world, see. Then I met Holly and soon after we found she was expecting.’ He stopped, looking embarrassed, but Sarah smiled encouragingly. ‘Her so-called Romany parents didn’t want to know so we got wed quietly and set up home. We was so happy …’ His voice broke and he shook his head. ‘Don’t know what you must think of me, Miss Sullivan, blubbing like a baby.’

  ‘You’ve had a terrible shock and it’s natural you should want to have your daughter with you. However, until you find somewhere to live, would it be best for her to remain here for now?’

  He didn’t answer, just sat staring into the fire. ‘I was goin’ to take some leave then sign on again, but I can’t do that now, can I? I mean, I’ve got nowhere to stay, have I?’ he said eventually.

  Sarah opened her mouth to respond but he continued muttering under his breath and she realized he was working things out in his head.

  ‘Here we are, dearies,’ Mrs Daws said cheerily as she pushed the door open with her behind and came in bearing the tea. She glanced at the stoker as she passed, then raised her brows enquiringly at Sarah. Not knowing what to say, Sarah shrugged. As ever, the capable housekeeper took charge. ‘Shall I pour?’ she asked, then without waiting for a reply, busied herself with the teapot.

  ‘Here we are, dearie, you get that down you,’ she said firmly, placing the man’s cup in his hand. ‘She’s a right little charmer, your daughter. Only child in the place the cat doesn’t run away from.’ She chattered cheerily on, and after a few moments, the man made an effort to rouse himself.

  ‘She loves animals. Came home with a ginger kitten once, determined to keep him, she was. Had to hide him from the landlady, of course,’ he sighed. He was obviously about to return to his thoughts but Mrs Daws had other ideas.

  ‘How long are you on leave for?’ she asked, easing herself onto the chair beside him.

  ‘The ship will leave after it’s unloaded and restocked. I hadn’t intended signing on for another trip straight away but now perhaps it would be better if I did. But there’s Monday and …’ He shrugged. ‘The truth is, I don’t know what to do.’

  ‘Poor man. You’ve had a dreadful shock and, if you don’t mind me saying, don’t look in any fit state to make decisions. Why not stay and have a hot meal with us? Got a nice cheese and potato pie cooking, although it might be more spud than Ched, if you get my meaning.’

  The man looked at the friendly housekeeper and slowly nodded. ‘That would hit the spot and no mistake. We brought a goodly supply of provisions back with us, so when I go and get Monday’s present I could speak nicely to the purser,’ he said with a wink.

  Mrs Daws smiled. ‘The children would be most grateful, Mr Collyer.’

  ‘Was everything all right in the classroom?’ Sarah asked.

  The housekeeper chuckled. ‘Goodness me, that Kitty had them writing out their names like good ’uns. I just sat at the master’s desk feeling all important while she ruled the roost. By the way, do you know you’ve got your hat on?’

  ‘Yes, I was just leaving to see Mrs Knight when Mr Collyer arrived,’ she replied, glancing over to where the man sat stifling a yawn.

  ‘There’s still time before luncheon, so why not go now? A bit of fresh air will do you good and Mr Collyer here looks all in, so he could have a lie-down in the little room behind the kitchen.’

  ‘That sounds mighty tempting,’ he admitted, looking at her hopefully. Then he frowned. ‘Trouble is, what with the police waiting for me on the quay, I clean forgot to bring my sea bag with me things in.’

  ‘Gawd love us, dearie, we’ve got plenty of spare things here,’ Mrs Daws cried.

  ‘That’s sorted then,’ Sarah said, getting to her feet. ‘Try and get some rest, Mr Collyer.’

  The rain had reduced to a mizzle and there was a brisk breeze blowing in from the sea. Taking deep breaths of the salty air to revive herself, Sarah set off at a brisk pace. She’d known this day was coming, of course, and it was only right that Mr Collyer would want to have Monday with him. Yet she’d be fooling herself if she didn’t admit the little girl had become very dear to her.

  Heavy black clouds hovered overhead and she pulled her coat tighter around herself. Then, as if he was standing right beside her, she heard her godfather’s voice the day Madam Rosa had visited Red Cliffs. I know you are fond of Monday but I must remind you to exercise caution, for we don’t know how long she will remain here.

  ‘I tried, Uncle, really I did,’ she cried.

  As if he’d been listening, she heard him say, There are many others needing your love and care, Sarah, remember that.

  ‘Yes, Uncle,’ she replied, knowing what he said was true.

  ‘Did you say something, Miss Sullivan, I mean, Sarah?’

  Startled, she looked up to see Jack Wise had drawn up beside her on his bicycle.

  ‘Oh, hello, Jack. I was miles away,’ she explained. Then, pulling herself together, she added, ‘That gingham material you kindly brought around is proving eminently suitable for the girls’ apron-making.’

  He beamed at her in delight, and as if seeking to prolong their conversation, made to dismount. ‘You must excuse me, though,’ she said quickly. ‘For I am due to call upon Mrs Knight and fear I’m already dreadfully late.’

  ‘You should get one of these,’ he suggested, patting the shiny handlebars. ‘It makes travelling around much quicker.’

  Remembering an article she’d read only recently, Sarah nodded. ‘What a good idea. Perhaps I should also abandon my skirts in favour of the knickerbocker?’ she suggested, giving him a wicked grin.

  A dull flush crept up his neck. ‘Well, I, er …’ he stuttered, staring down at his feet.

  ‘Don’t worry, Jack. I was only teasing. Now I really must be going,’ she said, continuing on her way. She half expected him to suggest accompanying her, but he merely gave a nod then pedalled quickly away. Poor man, she really shouldn’t have pulled his leg like that, she thought, then couldn’t help chuckling at his mortified expression.

  By the time she reached Mrs Knight’s house, a double-bay-fronted property secreted behind a tall limestone wall, she had regained her equilibrium. The door was opened by a pretty young girl of about fifteen or so.

  ‘Do come in, Miss Sullivan,’ she said in a soft, melodious voice that Sarah found attractive. ‘May I take your coat?’

  ‘That’s very kind but, as I can’t stay very long, I’ll keep it on. It’s stopped raining so I shouldn’t drip anyway,’ she replied.

  The girl smiled. ‘My grandmother is in the parlour with the other ladies,’ she said. As Sara
h followed her down the hallway, the homely smell of baking wafted her way and she sniffed the air appreciatively.

  ‘My first real attempt at cake-making,’ the girl explained, showing Sarah into a light, airy room with high ceilings and tall windows that looked down over the bay. It was tastefully furnished with a grand piano in the corner. ‘Miss Sullivan,’ she announced.

  ‘Thank you, Amelia,’ Mrs Knight said, manoeuvring her Bath chair away from the sewing machine at which she’d been working. ‘Miss Sullivan, how lovely to see you again,’ she greeted Sarah. She was sporting an indoor bonnet, its ribbons matching the pink of her dress. ‘As you can see, we are a hive of activity,’ she said, gesturing towards the large table in the centre of the room that was laden with cloth and silks. ‘Now you’ve met Amelia, my granddaughter. She is staying with me whilst her parents are abroad.’

  ‘That’s nice for you, Mrs Knight,’ she replied.

  ‘It is indeed. Amelia is such a help and plays the piano delightfully.’ As Sarah exchanged smiles with the girl, she was struck by the similarity in their clear, grey eyes. ‘You already know the Misses Snooper, Prior and Middle, of course.’

  ‘Good morning, ladies,’ she greeted them. They nodded graciously then bent their heads over the garments they were sewing.

  ‘And last but definitely not least, I’d like to introduce Mrs Higgins, the mother of your schoolmaster,’ Mrs Knight said, gesturing to a lady dressed in black. ‘She has kindly offered her services to our little sewing bee.’

  Mrs Higgins gave Sarah an appraising look, and she held her breath, wondering why it should matter that the woman approve of her.

  ‘Miss Sullivan, I have heard so much about you,’ Mrs Higgins finally said, giving her a warm smile.

  ‘Nothing too shocking, I hope,’ Sarah replied.

  ‘Au contraire, my dear. In fact, if I hear your virtues expounded anymore I would think we had a veritable paragon in our midst.’

  Not knowing how to respond, Sarah just smiled and looked around, taking in the delicate china tea service with matching plates on the trolley, along with the remains of a sponge cake, its damson-jam filling glistening temptingly.

  ‘Amelia kindly made us that delicious cake to accompany our morning tea,’ Mrs Knight explained.

  ‘And extremely good for her first attempt it was too,’ Mrs Higgins acknowledged.

  ‘If a little lopsided,’ Mrs Snooper sniffed. Sarah saw Amelia grimace and was about to say she thought it looked very appetizing when the woman continued. ‘The verger was here earlier, Miss Sullivan. He waited for ages and kept looking out of the window for you,’ she added.

  ‘Then he said he was sorry but he’d have to leave,’ Miss Prior added, her beady eyes boring into Sarah. ‘That was a shame, wasn’t it, Miss Sullivan?’

  ‘Although it did mean more cake for us,’ Miss Middle sighed, patting her ample stomach. ‘We think our Miss Sullivan and the verger like each other,’ she confided to Mrs Higgins.

  As the woman stared at Sarah with a deadpan expression, she found herself growing hot. While I like the verger, it’s your son I really care for, she wanted to shout.

  32

  ‘Of course they like each other, Miss Middle,’ Mrs Knight said quickly. ‘Being such nice people, they both like and see the best in everyone.’

  ‘What I meant was …’ the woman began, but was stopped mid-flow by Mrs Knight.

  ‘I’m sure Miss Sullivan would like to see what we have achieved so far,’ she cut in, her firm voice brooking no argument. ‘Let’s lay our work out on the table, then she can cast her expert eye over it.’ Immediately, the ladies jumped to their feet and began pushing the silks, pins and buttons to one side before spreading out their sewing.

  ‘While they are busy, let me get you some refreshment,’ Amelia offered in her soft voice. Before Sarah could reply, she’d glided over to the teapot, which was covered in a beautiful floral cosy, and began pouring. ‘Milk and sugar?’ she asked. Sarah nodded, then watched as she deftly cut a slice of the sponge and arranged it on one of the delicate plates. Her movements were graceful, and she moved elegantly in her flowing day dress. Sarah felt like a carthorse in a blanket beside her.

  ‘Do come and see what we’ve done,’ the ladies chorused in unison. Sarah smiled at Amelia and, cup in hand, wandered over to where they were eagerly waiting.

  ‘We haven’t stopped sewing all morning,’ Mrs Snooper sniffed. Sarah stared down at the six matching pinafore smocks that were already taking shape and gasped.

  ‘These are superb,’ she cried. ‘The local authority won’t recognize the children this smartly turned out.’

  The ladies beamed and began singing ‘Busy Bee’ as they resumed their sewing.

  ‘I’m so pleased you like them,’ Mrs Knight said. ‘Of course, we still have quite a few more to do and then there are the boys’ shirts to make, but hopefully we’ll have time. Have you heard exactly when the inspection is to be?’

  ‘No, we are still awaiting a letter of confirmation. In the meantime, I asked April and Pip to write down the measurements of all the children,’ she said putting down her tea and drawing a sheet of notepaper from her pocket.

  ‘That’s splendid,’ Mrs Knight replied. ‘Have you everything else prepared? I know what those official bods can be like, begging your pardon, Mrs Higgins,’ she added, glancing towards the master’s mother.

  ‘Don’t mind me, Mrs Knight. There is nothing I want more than Red Cliffs to pass this inspection with flying colours. Then perhaps Harry will be able to relax.’

  ‘It has been very fraught recently,’ Sarah agreed. ‘Still, things seem to be looking up, for we’ve had a delivery of coal which means the rooms will be warmer. Apparently it doesn’t usually arrive until December, but this year, for some reason, it’s come early.’

  ‘Ah yes, that would be Charlie. She …’ Mrs Knight’s voice tailed off as Mrs Higgins sent her a warning look.

  Sarah stared at them in surprise. ‘She? You mean our benefactor is a lady? Can you tell me about her?’

  ‘Oh, don’t mind me, Miss Sullivan,’ Mrs Knight said quickly. ‘Those ladies are making such a dreadful din I can hardly think. Now, what was it you were saying about them seeing Miss Green in the draper’s, Mrs Higgins?’ she asked, looking at the woman pointedly.

  ‘Apparently they saw her looking at bridal material,’ she said, looking over at the ladies who were still singing at the tops of their voices. ‘Of course I dismissed it as idle chit-chat.’

  ‘I know she’s been walking out with the doctor’s nephew but I can hardly see him proposing to Miss Green,’ Sarah replied, laughing at the unlikely thought. ‘Now I really must be getting back.’

  ‘Before you go, I hope you don’t mind my mentioning, but that hat and coat really do not sit well together. I have some trimmings in my workbasket which would remedy that. If you’re agreeable, I could quickly transform your hat whilst you finish your refreshments.’

  ‘Well, that is most kind of you, Miss Knight, but …’ she began, determined not to be fobbed off by this diversion.

  ‘Do let her, Miss Sullivan,’ Mrs Higgins urged. ‘Your attire is hardly, and forgive me if I’m frank, but it is not appropriate for the proprietor of Red Cliffs to walk around in mismatched apparel.’

  ‘Put like that, I can hardly refuse,’ Sarah replied, biting down her resentment. It was hardly her fault she had to resort to hand-me-downs, was it? Quickly, she removed her hat and handed it to Mrs Knight.

  ‘No hatpin?’ she tutted. ‘What would you do if a strong gust of wind came along?’

  ‘I’m sure you could find Miss Sullivan one, Grandma. You have so many, there’s bound to be one that’s a suitable match for the material,’ Amelia said in her gentle voice.

  ‘You’re right of course, my dear. Perhaps you would place my workbasket on the table by the window.’ Sarah watched as the girl did as she’d been asked, then wheeled her grandmother over to the light.

  ‘I hea
r the little girl’s father turned up this morning,’ Mrs Higgins said.

  ‘How do you know that?’ Sarah asked in surprise.

  The woman chuckled. ‘The butcher told the postman who told the verger …’ She shrugged.

  ‘Perhaps I should ask the butcher when the inspection is to be,’ Sarah replied, shaking her head in disbelief, before taking a bite of her cake. ‘This sponge is delicious, Amelia.’ The girl looked up and smiled then went back to helping her grandmother. Moments later, Mrs Knight was brandishing Sarah’s hat aloft.

  ‘Come and see it now,’ she called. Immediately, the ladies fell silent then watched agog as Sarah went over to see what the woman had done.

  ‘Goodness,’ she exclaimed. ‘I can’t believe it’s the same hat, Mrs Knight. Why, it truly matches this coat now.’ The woman beamed and triumphantly held up a pin to match. ‘I can’t thank you enough,’ Sarah said, placing the hat on her head before carefully inserting the pin.

  ‘A little petroleum jelly combed through your frizzy hair would tame it a treat,’ Miss Prior advised.

  Sarah forced another smile. ‘Thank you, ladies, for everything,’ she replied. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, I really must be getting back to help supervise the luncheon. Thank you again for all your hard work.’

  ‘I’ll see you out, Miss Sullivan,’ Amelia said, leading the way to the front door.

  ‘Thank you for the refreshments and for your part in making those delightful smocks.’

  ‘I really love sewing, so it’s a pleasure,’ the girl replied.

  ‘I’m teaching the girls how to make aprons to sell at the Christmas Fayre and I only wish their stitches were half as neat as yours. Their enthusiasm far outweighs their talents, I’m afraid,’ Sarah said, raising her brows as she recalled the antics of the previous evening. Amelia smiled and looked thoughtful for a moment.

  ‘Would it be all right if I popped along to see them sometime? I’m a Sunday school teacher back home and rather miss being involved with children.’

  ‘You’d be most welcome. It’s dark in the evenings now, of course, but the girls also work on their projects each Saturday afternoon.’