Monday's Child

by Linda Finlay

  ‘Of course,’ she confirmed. The man grunted again.

  ‘We would like to discuss the children’s welfare,’ Miss Harmon said.

  ‘As we act in loco parentis, their welfare is of the utmost importance,’ Harry agreed.

  ‘Must be a difficult job, controlling those disturbed ragamuffins,’ Mr Green snorted.

  ‘We prefer to think of them as children with challenges,’ Harry replied.

  ‘That is infinitely better,’ Miss Harmon agreed. ‘We would also like to sit in on the children’s lessons, if that would be agreeable?’ she asked Sarah.

  ‘As my dau … I mean, Miss Green has informed me she can no longer work here, I imagine that might pose a problem for your afternoon curriculum?’ Mr Green cut in.

  ‘Not at all, Mr Green. Although she had to leave us so hurriedly, we have been fortunate enough to engage the services of Miss Knight who has proved to be an admirable replacement.’

  ‘What?’ the man blustered, raising his bushy eyebrows. ‘Why wasn’t I informed of this?’

  ‘I’m afraid as your daughter left very suddenly, in the interest of our girls, we had to take immediate action.’

  ‘She found them rude and unteachable, Miss Sullivan.’

  ‘And in return we found her disciplinary methods outmoded, and her inability to teach what was asked of her inexcusable,’ Sarah replied, ignoring Harry’s warning look.

  ‘My daughter found her position here untenable and insisted her agreement be terminated immediately,’ Mr Green continued, ignoring Sarah’s outburst.

  ‘I believe her to have an ulterior motive for that. She is soon to marry, is she not, Mr Green?’ Sarah asked sweetly. The man opened and closed his mouth like a landed fish.

  ‘Is that so, Mr Green?’ Miss Harmon asked, staring at the man in surprise. Grudgingly, he nodded.

  ‘In that case the point is academic, for Miss Green would have had to resign her position anyway,’ Miss Harmon replied, opening her notepad and jotting something down. As the man flushed, Sarah felt like cheering. Round one to Red Cliffs.

  ‘Allow me to show you the kitchen and dining room,’ Harry said, breaking the awkward silence.

  As the man began gathering up his coat and file, Sarah turned to him. ‘Your belongings will be quite safe here, Mr Green,’ she told him. He frowned but reluctantly replaced his things back on the desk.

  ‘This is Mrs Daws, our Dux Coquorum,’ Harry announced as he showed them into the kitchen.

  ‘I’m the housekeeper,’ she replied. ‘I’m just making your coffyn, Mr Green,’ she told him. Sarah nearly choked but the woman added pleasantly, ‘I remember how you like a nice pastry crust on your meat.’

  ‘Everywhere looks spick and span,’ Miss Harmon commented, looking around the room. ‘And your baking smells delicious,’ she added, pointing to the fruit cakes on the dresser.

  ‘The children made those,’ the housekeeper informed her. ‘Good little bakers, they are. You can try one with your afternoon cuppa if you like,’ she offered.

  ‘I’ll look forward to it,’ Miss Harmon replied. ‘And this is the dining room?’ she asked, wandering into the next room. ‘Goodness me, what a marvellous view,’ she exclaimed, staring out over the bay.

  ‘More suited to a family room,’ Mr Green muttered. ‘I doubt the children even notice.’

  ‘Maybe not,’ Sarah conceded. ‘However, continually breathing in the sea air does wonders for their health.’

  ‘And is that a vegetable plot out there?’

  ‘It is, Miss Harmon. The children grow all the produce for their own meals as well as the Sunday soup kitchen. Sometimes there is even surplus, which they sell to help raise funds for the school,’ Harry explained proudly.

  ‘Admirable,’ Miss Harmon said, clapping her hands in delight.

  ‘We have yet to see the dormitories,’ Mr Green grunted. ‘I understand you have problems with the roof? My daughter told me there was water pouring in all over the beds.’

  ‘I think that was a slight exaggeration,’ Sarah laughed. ‘We did have a problem with a couple of slipped tiles but they were immediately fixed. The number of girls here has grown these past weeks so it gave us the opportunity to reorganize the rooms. If you’d care to follow me, I’d be pleased to show you.’

  ‘I was given to understand the whole roof needed retiling so I will need to check that out,’ Mr Green grunted. ‘As our time is limited, I will go through your accounts and your housekeeper can show Miss Harmon around upstairs.’

  ‘If you’ll excuse me, I need to take the children for their morning lessons?’ Harry asked the inspector politely.

  ‘Very well. We will both join you in the classroom later, Master Higgins.’ As Harry pretended to cut his throat behind the man’s back, Sarah had to turn away to hide her grin.

  ‘Ah, April, how is Maisie?’ Sarah asked quietly as the girl passed by, dirty clothes in hand.

  ‘She’s asleep, bless her,’ April replied. ‘Probably a touch of the collywobbles. You know how she is.’

  Relieved the young girl wasn’t suffering from anything serious, Sarah led the inspector through to her office. She was pleased she’d studied the audited accounts, as Mr Green asked innumerable questions. Eventually, he put down his pen.

  ‘You seem to have a good grasp of things here, Miss Sullivan, which makes things easier for me.’ Sarah was just about to thank him when he dealt his blow. ‘It is abundantly clear Red Cliffs needs an injection of funds to keep going.’

  ‘We are still awaiting monies from the local authority for the new pupils we have recently admitted,’ Sarah pointed out.

  ‘Money which will be paid when the LA has also audited the school’s accounts,’ he confirmed.

  Sarah’s heart sank, for they’d been relying upon the funding to take them through to Christmas. ‘And how long will that take?’ she asked.

  ‘It depends,’ he shrugged. ‘However, I’m more concerned about the lack of money available for the upkeep of the building itself, which you must admit is run down and dilapidated.’

  ‘Really, Mr Green,’ she protested. ‘I agree the building does need some updating but it is hardly …’ Her voice trailed off as Miss Harmon popped her head around the door.

  ‘Come in, Miss Harmon,’ he ordered. ‘How did you find the state of repair upstairs?’

  ‘All dry and cosy in the dormitories,’ she confirmed.

  The man frowned. ‘Really?’ he said, looking disappointed. ‘Well, as I said earlier, Miss Sullivan, the local authority will require an inspection report on the condition of the roof,’ he said, getting to his feet. ‘Now, please direct us to the classroom.’

  Sarah had to hand it to Master Higgins. Unperturbed by the inspectors’ presence, he took the children through their arithmetic followed by a history lesson. He made the details of the latter so vivid, the children joined in enthusiastically, asking question after question.

  At the back of the room, Mr Green frowned and wrote copious notes while Miss Harmon listened attentively. When the gong sounded for luncheon, even the children seemed surprised.

  ‘I have set your meal out in the front room,’ Mrs Daws greeted the inspectors. ‘I know how nit-picky they are,’ she muttered to Sarah under her breath.

  ‘How is Maisie?’ Sarah asked.

  ‘Still sleeping. Don’t worry, we’re keeping an eye on her. We’ll see to the children too,’ she added.

  ‘Thank you, Mrs Daws,’ Sarah murmured. ‘If you’d like to follow me,’ she said, turning to the inspectors.

  ‘Here’s your coffyn, Mr Green,’ April said, placing the man’s meal in front of him. ‘Mrs Daws says she hopes it’s the right size.’ As the man looked at her sharply, the girl smiled sweetly. ‘Can I get you anything else, sir?’

  ‘This looks delicious,’ Mrs Harmon said. ‘Are the children having the same?’

  ‘Of course,’ Sarah exclaimed.

  ‘Don’t look so surprised, Miss Sullivan. It is not uncommon for
teachers to eat well whilst their pupils survive on scraps,’ Mr Green advised her.

  ‘Unbelievable, isn’t it?’ Miss Harmon said, seeing Sarah’s look of astonishment.

  ‘Unforgivable, more like,’ Harry snorted.

  ‘I must say, I thought the children all looked very smart,’ Miss Harmon said. ‘I was given to understand they went around in rags,’ she added, staring at her colleague.

  ‘I wonder who or what could have given you that idea?’ Sarah replied, staring at Mr Green.

  As soon as he’d finished his meal, Mr Green opened his notebook. ‘As I’ve mentioned before, Higgins, your teaching methods give cause for concern.’

  ‘Whatever do you mean?’ Sarah exclaimed.

  ‘Firstly, you still persist in seating girls alongside boys when we prefer them to be segregated.’

  ‘They are seated by age, Mr Green, in order that they may be taught lessons in keeping with their comprehension. It is a method which works well, I find,’ Harry replied.

  The inspector grunted. ‘To encourage good discipline and obedience, children are expected to observe silence for the course of the lesson, not ask questions, Higgins.’

  ‘We find children learn better by interaction and engagement.’

  ‘And there was no evidence of any punishment being meted out.’

  ‘Children learn better if they are encouraged rather than punished. Although I admit to having a tawse as a deterrent, I am proud to admit I have never actually used it.’

  ‘That is a thought-provoking theory, Master Higgins,’ Miss Harmon said. ‘I shall be interested to see what the afternoon brings.’

  ‘Master Higgins will be taking the boys for carpentry in the workshop while Miss Knight teaches the girls in the classroom,’ Sarah replied.

  ‘What are they making, Higgins, rulers?’ the man snorted.

  ‘Actually, they are making boats, diabolos and simple toys to sell at the Christmas Fayre,’ he replied mildly. ‘Next term they will be fashioning purpose-built shelters …’

  ‘To house them when your roof leaks?’ the man chortled.

  ‘To house the chickens the farmer is letting us have.’

  ‘Fresh eggs for the children, marvellous,’ Miss Harmon cried.

  ‘Accepting charity from the locals now, eh, Higgins?’

  ‘Far from it, Mr Green. As you well know, the ethos of Red Cliffs is that the children help to pay their own way. In this case, the hens will be payment for sweeping out the farmyard and barns and helping the farmer’s wife with her dairy and poultry. Now, if you have finished your meal, I think we should be making our way back to the children.’

  ‘You take the girls and I’ll inspect this woodworking class,’ Mr Green told Miss Harmon, obviously put out. ‘Though why we waste good time and money on educating females, I really don’t know. I mean, what good can it possibly serve?’

  ‘Mr Green, your attitude is outmoded. It is vitally important the girls learn in order to better their prospects and those of their children. After all, they will be the mothers of the future generation,’ Sarah told him, leading the way out of the room. She was just thinking what an obnoxious man the inspector was when Miss Harmon spoke.

  ‘I must say, I’m finding this day quite fascinating, Miss Sullivan. Will the girls be participating in this Christmas Fayre?’

  ‘They have been busy making aprons to sell,’ Sarah confirmed. ‘Of course, they’ll help with the refreshments as usual, but I feel it is important they are encouraged to earn funds like boys.’

  ‘I quite agree, Miss Sullivan.’

  ‘Good, now let me introduce you to Miss Knight,’ she said, opening the door of the classroom. Immediately the girls rose to their feet.

  ‘Good afternoon, Miss Harmon,’ they chorused, emphasizing the ‘h’. Sarah grinned at Amelia. ‘Good afternoon, Miss Sullivan.’

  ‘Good afternoon, girls,’ she replied. ‘Please continue with your lesson, Miss Knight,’ she added.

  ‘We’s going to use my globe,’ Monday said proudly.

  ‘That’s right, Monday,’ Amelia said. ‘After we’ve finished our sewing we are going to use your globe to follow the routes used for trading. Now, as we have finished our aprons, we are going to make a start on peg bags. Isn’t that exciting?’ There was a chorus of enthusiastic cheers.

  ‘Would you mind if I sit with the girls?’ Miss Harmon asked, once the commotion had died down.

  ‘Of course not, Miss Harmon,’ Amelia replied in her dulcet tones. ‘Please feel free to ask any questions.’

  ‘Well, I do have one I would like to ask,’ she said, smiling at the girls. ‘You seem to be enjoying your lesson, girls. What about Miss Green? Was she a good teacher?’

  ‘She said when we was ripe we had to close our legs,’ Ellen told her.

  ‘Yeah, else we’d have baby bunny rabbits coming out of our tummy,’ Maggie added. ‘I still don’t get that.’

  Looking bemused, Miss Harmon turned to Sarah. ‘That was Miss Green’s idea of teaching them morality,’ Sarah explained. ‘Oh, please excuse me,’ she added, looking up and seeing April beckoning her from the doorway. ‘I’m needed indoors so please carry on with the lesson, Miss Knight.’ Sarah rose to her feet. ‘What’s the matter April?’ she asked.

  ‘It’s Maisie, miss, she’s boiling up and talking gibberish.’

  39

  ‘I’m worried about Maisie, Miss Sullivan. She’s that feverish, I think we should call Dr Hawkins,’ Mrs Daws said, getting up from the chair beside the bed. ‘April and I have been taking turns to sponge her down, but it’s not making any difference.’

  Sarah stared at the girl, who was thrashing about and muttering in her sleep, and frowned. ‘April, can you run and get him?’ she asked.

  As the girl hurried from the room, Mrs Daws shook her head. ‘I can’t understand it. She was fine when the doctor checked them over last night. It’s probably nothing but …’ She shrugged.

  ‘You look all in, Mrs Daws. Go and make a cuppa. I’ll sit with her until the doctor comes,’ Sarah said, sitting down in the chair the woman had vacated and taking the little girl’s hand. It was only when the woman had left that Sarah let out a quiet groan. Supposing her being here with the sick child adversely affected the inspection? That Mr Green seemed to delight in picking on everything he could. Yet she couldn’t just leave Maisie when she was ill, could she?

  ‘Come on, Maisie,’ she urged but the girl just mumbled again.

  The minutes ticked by, and Sarah couldn’t help wondering how the inspectors were getting on. Miss Harmon seemed genuinely interested in the children, whilst Mr Green was determined to find fault. Lost in thought, she jumped as Dr Hawkins appeared by her side.

  ‘I’ll examine the lass, if you don’t mind, Miss Sullivan,’ he said, drawing his stethoscope from his Gladstone bag. ‘Perhaps you’d like to wait in the kitchen.’

  ‘I’d prefer to stay, if you don’t mind,’ she replied.

  ‘Hmm,’ he muttered, his head already bent over the little girl. Finally, he replaced the bedcovers and went over to his bag.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ Sarah asked, unable to contain her anxiety as she followed him out of the room.

  ‘There’s no sign of a rash but that fever needs to break,’ he replied briskly. ‘Continue sponging her down and give her this draft should she wake,’ he said, placing a twist of paper on the table. ‘I’ll call back tomorrow morning before surgery.’

  ‘Thank you, doctor. I’ll see you out,’ Sarah said.

  ‘I’ll sit with Maisie,’ April offered, looking up from the potatoes she was peeling.

  ‘Thank you, April. I’ll be back as soon as I can,’ she replied.

  ‘Don’t worry, we’ll look after her,’ Mrs Daws added. Sarah smiled her thanks, then led the doctor to the front door.

  ‘She’ll probably sleep but don’t hesitate to send for me if you need me,’ Dr Hawkins said.

  ‘Thank you, doctor,’ she replied. She was about to shut the
door when Mr Green strode in from the schoolroom, closely followed by Harry.

  ‘Was that Dr Hawkins I saw leaving?’

  ‘Yes, one of our children was sick this morning and is running a temperature,’ Sarah explained.

  ‘Hope it’s nothing contagious,’ the inspector shuddered.

  ‘How is Maisie?’ Harry asked pointedly as he joined them.

  ‘Feverish. The doctor’s left a draft for when she wakes and …’

  ‘Do you mind if we get back to business?’ Mr Green enquired, frowning at his fob watch. ‘Come along, Miss Harmon,’ he called to his colleague, who was still outside chatting to Amelia.

  ‘I’m not sure I should leave Maisie …’ Sarah began.

  Mr Green clicked his tongue in annoyance. ‘We are here to discuss the future of the school, are we not?’

  ‘Very well, we’ll go through to my office,’ Sarah agreed reluctantly, knowing she was between a rock and a hard place yet again. What a heartless man the inspector was.

  ‘How was Miss Knight’s lesson?’ Mr Green greeted Miss Harmon as she came into the room.

  ‘Fascinating. She had the girls switching from sewing to trade routes to elocution.’

  ‘But she’s not a trained teacher?’

  ‘She already teaches at Sunday School and will be commencing formal training next year,’ Sarah supplied.

  The man gave a triumphant smirk then wrote something down in his notebook. ‘Obviously, I can only give you a brief summary of my findings at this stage,’ Mr Green told them. ‘You will receive the official report within a month, but I warn you now, my recommendation is that that Red Cliffs be closed.’

  ‘What?’ Sarah gasped. ‘But why?’

  ‘I must say …’ Miss Harmon began.

  ‘You are not here to say anything, Miss Harmon,’ Mr Green snapped. ‘This house is not fit for occupation by children, its roof needs replacing and the books show you don’t have the necessary funds. Besides which, your teaching methods are questionable, Master Higgins. Pupils should fear their master.’

  ‘Like I’ve said before, we have moved on from the days of finger stocks and back straighteners,’ he pointed out.