Monday's Child

by Linda Finlay

  The inspector ignored him. ‘Finally, the girls are being taught by an unqualified teacher,’ he concluded, snapping his notebook shut. ‘I also understand there is a dispute over the late Dr Lawrence’s will.’

  ‘You mean the claim made by Mr Christian Lawrence?’ Sarah asked.

  The man nodded. ‘A respectable business man who intends turning this house back into a family home.’

  ‘For when he marries your daughter, no doubt,’ Sarah replied. This was met by shocked silence.

  ‘Is this true, Mr Green?’ Miss Harmon finally asked, staring hard at the man. He avoided her gaze and shrugged.

  ‘I received this letter from my solicitor yesterday,’ Sarah said, pulling an envelope from her pocket and waving it in front of him. ‘It confirms my godfather’s will is valid and that I am the sole owner of Red Cliffs.’ As the inspector blanched, Sarah played her trump card. ‘As for your respectable son-in-law to be, surely you are aware he is currently in custody awaiting trial for theft and extortion? I don’t think we have anything left to discuss, Mr Green, so I’ll bid you good afternoon.’

  Mr Green stared at her in disbelief then got to his feet. ‘The fact remains that you don’t have the money to replace the roof,’ he spat, striding out of the room.

  ‘I do apologize for my colleague’s behaviour,’ Miss Harmon said. ‘Rest assured, I shall be filing a report of my own.’

  ‘I’ll show you out,’ Sarah said as the woman gathered up her things.

  On the doorstep, the woman hesitated. ‘I do admire your spirit, Miss Sullivan. From the way you are encouraging the girls to progress in life, am I correct in assuming you believe that women should have the right to stand alongside men in society?’

  ‘I most certainly do,’ Sarah assured her.

  ‘In that case, perhaps you’d consider attending a meeting of the Suffrage Movement. We have an active branch here in Torquay and would welcome a person such as yourself,’ she said, delving into her bag.

  As the strident voice of Mr Green summoned her, she firmly placed a leaflet in Sarah’s hand. ‘Do join us,’ she urged. ‘It’s time we women had our say.’

  ‘Well, well, Sarah, you played a blinder there,’ Harry said admiringly, as he came up behind her. ‘I had no idea Christian and Miss Green were actually betrothed.’

  ‘It was just a hunch after something your mother said,’ she admitted. ‘But that still doesn’t solve our financial problems or the roof, does it?’

  ‘True, and Mrs Daws and I have something to discuss with you after supper, if you can spare the time?’ he said, giving her a warm look that sent little shivers rippling down her spine.

  ‘Sounds intriguing. Now, I really must go and check on Maisie.’

  ‘I was proud of our children today,’ Harry told Sarah as they sat in the kitchen over a late-night cuppa.

  ‘They did look smart, didn’t they?’ Sarah agreed. ‘You should have seen Miss Harmon’s face when Amelia explained they were going to use Monday’s globe to discuss the trading routes.’ She smiled and took a sip of her tea. ‘Poor Maisie’s still feverish, though. Dr Hawkins said he’d look in again first thing.’

  ‘If Maisie’s in your bed, where will you sleep?’ Harry asked.

  ‘On the chair beside her, then I can keep an eye out in case she wakes during the night.’

  ‘I’ll come down and take a turn, if you like,’ Mrs Daws offered.

  ‘That’s kind, but you’ve done enough already today,’ Sarah assured her.

  ‘Yes, your cooking passed muster, Mrs Daws, which was more than can be said about my teaching methods,’ Harry remarked.

  ‘Since when have you cared a fig for the opinion of the local authority?’ Mrs Daws scoffed. ‘You’ll carry on in your own way, as you always do.’

  ‘Provided they don’t close us down,’ Sarah sighed. ‘Thinking about funding for the roof, Mrs Knight said something odd the other day.’

  ‘What was that, dear?’ the housekeeper asked, supping her tea.

  ‘She referred to our benefactor as being a woman.’

  Harry and Mrs Daws exchanged smiles. ‘That is what we wanted to talk to you about,’ Harry replied.

  ‘Although it’s been so busy today, I told him you might be too tired,’ Mrs Daws said, stifling a yawn.

  ‘I think now is opportune,’ Harry persisted.

  ‘Well, I don’t know about that, but I think it’s time.’

  ‘Whatever it is, please tell me,’ Sarah urged, looking impatiently from one to the other.

  ‘It’s about our benefactor,’ Harry began. ‘Well, benefactress, Lady Charlotte Chorlton, to be precise.’

  ‘Goodness, a Lady? Well I never,’ Sarah exclaimed. ‘So how did she come to be involved with my godfather and Red Cliffs?’

  There was an awkward silence as Harry and Mrs Daws once again exchanged glances.

  ‘Well, er, it’s, er, delicate …’ Harry began.

  ‘Oh for heaven’s sake,’ Mrs Daws clucked. ‘Your godfather, the dear doctor, well, he and Lady Charlotte were friends for many years, very good friends, if you get my meaning.’ She paused to let the message sink home. ‘She were the love of his life, actually. Never had another lady friend in all the years I knew him. And she loved him too.’

  ‘So why didn’t they marry?’ Sarah asked.

  ‘Well, it was difficult. Her husband were a sea captain …’

  ‘Oh, she was married. I see,’ Sarah sighed.

  ‘I don’t think you do, dear,’ Mrs Daws sniffed. ‘The good doctor wouldn’t behave in anything less than a respectful manner.’ She stared at Sarah so disapprovingly, she had to apologize.

  ‘Sorry. Of course not. Then …’ She stuttered to a halt, not sure how to go on.

  ‘Lady Chorlton’s husband was a jealous man,’ Harry said, taking up the story. ‘When he died, he left certain conditions in his will. Lady Charlotte was to remain single or she would forfeit her entire inheritance.’

  ‘How dreadful for her,’ Sarah muttered.

  ‘He were that possessive, see. Couldn’t bear the thought of her being with another man. Jolly selfish if you ask me. Still, there’s no accounting for some people. Anyway, he left her a very rich widow.’

  ‘And she used some of her money to fund Red Cliffs?’ Sarah suggested.

  Harry nodded. ‘She and the doctor had to keep their relationship secret, see,’ Mrs Daws continued. ‘Otherwise she’d forfeit her inheritance and lose her home, while he’d lose Red Cliffs.’

  ‘Poor Uncle Samuel,’ Sarah murmured. ‘Now that it’s been confirmed I own Red Cliffs, I should meet her and thank her for her help.’

  ‘Oh no, you couldn’t,’ the housekeeper cried. ‘We was sworn to secrecy and I’ll probably burn in hell as it is.’

  ‘Of course you won’t,’ Sarah replied, patting the woman’s hand. ‘My uncle would understand you’re trying to save Red Cliffs.’

  ‘Why don’t you speak with Mr Fothergill and let him decide how you should proceed from here?’ Harry suggested.

  ‘I’ll see him first thing in the morning,’ Sarah declared. ‘I’m so pleased you told me. Now I really must go and sit with Maisie and let April get some sleep.’

  Sarah sat with the little girl through the long hours of darkness, sponging her forehead and listening for any change in her breathing. The events of the day played around and around in her head but she kept coming back to the same thing. Lady Charlotte. She was so pleased her uncle had known love and been loved in return. Yet how tragic it was that they’d been denied the opportunity to marry. Knowing what a highly principled man he’d been, he wouldn’t have been happy conducting a clandestine affair. She must be some woman, Sarah decided.

  She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t realize the first light of day was stealing though the ill-fitting curtains, until Monday crept into the room.

  ‘I’ve come to say goodbye to Maisie before she goes,’ Monday whispered.

  ‘But she’s not going an
ywhere,’ Sarah replied.

  ‘She’s goin’ to be an angel,’ Monday told her, staring at Sarah gravely with her periwinkle eyes. ‘Bye, bye, Maisie. I’ll see you when you’s an angel,’ she whispered.

  As the small girl bent and kissed her friend on the forehead, Sarah felt a shiver tingle down her spine.

  It was nearly noon and Sarah was still sitting at the kitchen table, trying to come to terms with Maisie’s death. Had she missed something when she’d sat with her through the long night? She didn’t remember any change to her breathing. She had regularly sponged the little girl’s forehead and chest, but should she have called for Dr Hawkins? Yet there’d been nothing to report. Numbly, she got up and stared out of the window. Outside, Kitty and Edith were cuddling Monday close.

  ‘How did she know?’ Sarah wailed, dabbing at her eyes for the umpteenth time that morning.

  ‘Got the gift, I guess. Sometimes children see things we don’t,’ Mrs Daws whispered, tears rolling down her cheeks. ‘Don’t seem right for such a little one to be taken.’

  ‘Dr Hawkins said there was nothing any of us could have done,’ Harry said. ‘There’ll have to be a post-mortem but he’s pretty sure Maisie’s heart was too weak to fight the fever. It’s very sad, but for the children’s sake we must try and carry on as normal. I’d better sound the gong and summon them in for luncheon.’

  ‘To think I complained about the din young Maisie made. I’d give anything to have her banging the life out of it now. Oh!’ The housekeeper sobbed, realizing what she’d said.

  As Sarah comforted the woman, Harry called April and Pip over to supervise the meal. ‘Couldn’t eat a thing myself,’ he muttered. ‘I’ll be in the classroom.’

  ‘And I’ll go and see Mr Fothergill,’ Sarah said. ‘I need to be doing something.’

  Mr Fothergill stared at her over his silver-rimmed spectacles. ‘After what you’ve just told me, Miss Sullivan, I feel I should acquaint Lady Chorlton of the situation.’

  ‘And you will tell her that I’d very much like to meet her?’ Sarah asked.

  ‘I will indeed convey that message to her,’ he agreed.

  ‘Thank you, Mr Fothergill. I would be most grateful. She was such a good friend to my godfather, so I really should like to make her acquaintance. I would like to thank her for all she’s done and explain that Red Cliffs might have to close.’

  The solicitor frowned. ‘I find it odd that the local authority, without having conducted a survey, should claim the whole roof needs replacing. Your godfather knew there was a problem, of course, but I was given to understand it was only to one elevation.’

  ‘Well, Mr Collyer didn’t have a problem effecting a temporary repair,’ she explained.

  ‘Leave it with me, Miss Sullivan. I will communicate with Lady Chorlton and advise you of her response. I can rely upon your discretion?’ he asked, quirking his brow.

  ‘Of course, Mr Fothergill,’ she assured him.

  He nodded. ‘In the meantime, please accept my sincere condolences on the sad loss of one of your pupils. Death is never easy, but in one so young …’ He shrugged helplessly.

  ‘Thank you, Mr Fothergill. I shall await hearing from you.’

  The service for Maisie was simple yet beautiful. Encouraged by the vicar, the children each placed a flower on the altar before standing together and singing the school anthem. As their clear voices were joined by the congregation, only Monday remained silent. Once again, she’d retreated into her own world.

  Amelia, who had consented to stay on until a permanent replacement for Miss Green could be found, tried to encourage Monday to speak by pointing out places her father would be visiting on his voyage. Although the little girl eagerly traced the route on the globe with her finger, she didn’t say anything.

  In an attempt to lighten the atmosphere around the school, Sarah and Harry helped the children to finish the things they’d been making for the Christmas Fayre. They worked well together and relations were friendly between them, but there was still none of the easy banter that had existed before Rodney’s visit.

  Each day Sarah waited anxiously for the postman to arrive. Would their benefactor agree to meet her? And what would the results of the inspection be? Until she received the answers, the impending closure of Red Cliffs hung over her like the black clouds that persisted outside. Although her list of ideas for raising funds was growing, she knew in her heart that the projects would only realize a small amount. Whilst it would hardly make any impression on the sum that was needed for a new roof, at least she felt she was doing something.

  40

  As the day of the Christmas Fayre dawned, the two letters finally arrived.

  ‘Mr Fothergill says our benefactor Lady Charlotte has agreed to my calling upon her when she returns from her vacation in the New Year,’ Sarah cried excitedly. Harry and Mrs Daws exchanged relieved smiles.

  ‘That is good news,’ Harry said, but Sarah hardly heard him for she had torn open the other letter and was scanning the contents.

  ‘Goodness, the local authority has given us six months to bring the property up to the required standard.

  ‘I don’t mean to rain on your parade but six months isn’t that long to get everything fixed, Sarah,’ Harry pointed out.

  ‘Maybe not, but at least it will give us a chance to raise some funds and work out our next strategy. It’s better than being closed down, isn’t it?’

  ‘That’s very true, Miss Sullivan,’ the housekeeper replied. ‘A nicer Christmas present, we couldn’t wish for.’

  ‘That’s right, Mrs Daws. I intend to do all I can to ensure Red Cliffs passes the next inspection. Now, come on, let’s get ready for the Christmas Fayre,’ Sarah cried.

  They arrived at the church hall to find it festively decorated with holly and candles. As soon as he saw them, Jack Wise bounded up to Sarah with one of his dazzling smiles.

  ‘Sar … er, Miss Sullivan, the good ladies have arranged two stalls for your pupils to display their handicrafts.’

  As the children proudly set out their creations, Mrs Knight and her sewing bee ladies descended upon them.

  ‘My, don’t you all look smart,’ Mrs Higgins exclaimed.

  ‘And haven’t you been busy?’ Mrs Knight added, picking up one of the aprons. ‘May I purchase one of these?’ The girls looked at Sarah, who nodded.

  ‘We’ve made you one each to fank you, I mean, thank you for our new clothes,’ Kitty said as she and Edith handed each of them a brightly wrapped parcel.

  ‘And you an’ all,’ Maggie, Ellen and June added, giving the three ladies of the church a package each.

  ‘Yours is a peg bag, Miss Middle, ’cos we weren’t sure if an apron would fit,’ Maggie giggled.

  ‘Mrs Daws hopes you will all join us for Christmas luncheon,’ Sarah added quickly.

  ‘But we never get invited anywhere on Christmas Day,’ Miss Prior gasped.

  ‘You’re such a good cook, Mrs Daws,’ Miss Middle added, turning to the housekeeper. ‘We’d love to come.’

  ‘We do all the cooking on Christmas Day, don’t we, Pip?’ April explained. ‘But Mrs Daws keeps an eye on us, don’t you?’

  ‘I most certainly do,’ the housekeeper chuckled.

  The Fayre was well supported and the hall bustled with activity. All the things the children had made sold quickly. As the girls went around handing out the refreshments, Kitty winked at Sarah.

  ‘We’ve made more dosh than the boys, miss,’ she cried.

  Sarah smiled. ‘And we haven’t finished yet. We’re going to sing carols with the Salvation Army to raise money for the homeless.’

  ‘Like we was, you mean?’ Edith cried.

  ‘Goodness, can you imagine what those children will sound like?’ one woman remarked as she passed.

  ‘They will sound just splendid,’ Miss Snooper sniffed.

  As dusk was falling on Christmas Eve, the town square thronged with people. Local tradespeople stood alongside the smartly attired v
isitors who had arrived to spend the festive season in the grand hotels or their own holiday houses. The tantalizing smell of roasted chestnuts and spiced wine mingled with the sound of high spirits and Christmas carols, while the children, who were swathed in woollen hats and mufflers, gathered excitedly around the huge tree, its myriad candles twinkling brightly in the gloaming.

  ‘And now, the pupils of Red Cliffs will sing a special carol beginning with a solo by one of their gifted little girls,’ the vicar announced. The band struck up the familiar chords and Amelia smiled encouragingly at Sally, who took a step forward and confidently began singing. As her dulcet tones rang out, the square fell silent. Sarah and Harry exchanged proud glances.

  ‘Amelia’s going to get Sally to show the others how to do the breathing exercises with a view to forming a choir,’ Sarah whispered.

  ‘Heaven help the vicar then,’ Harry joked.

  Then Amelia turned to the rest of the pupils. ‘Remember “h”,’ she murmured, raising her arm to bring them in.

  ‘Hark the herald angels sing,’ they chorused, emphasizing the ‘h’ both times.

  ‘It’s hard to believe they’re the same children,’ Sarah sighed, as the last strains died away. Then Monday pointed excitedly to the figure sparkling from the top of the Christmas tree.

  ‘There’s Maisie,’ cried Monday, hopping up and down excitedly. ‘I said she’d come back as an angel.’

  ‘Monday’s got her voice back,’ Mrs Daws beamed.

  ‘Isn’t it marvellous?’ Sarah replied, staring at Harry in surprise. He gazed back so fondly, her pulse quickened. Then he moved closer and linked his arm through hers. A delicious feeling of warmth rippled through her, dispelling the last vestiges of reticence. She smiled happily up at him and their glances locked.

  ‘’Ere, look at the master and miss,’ Kitty cried. As the children’s giggles mingled with the Christmas music, Harry bent and gently kissed Sarah on the cheek.

  ‘That’ll really give them something to talk about,’ he whispered.

  ‘Remember, Sarah, Love Never Faileth,’ her uncle’s voice whispered.

  Acknowledgements