by Rosie Clarke
‘It was all for your own good,’ he said cryptically as she reached the door.
She turned and looked back at him, but his eyes were closed and she didn’t ask what he meant. For years Flo had blamed her father for her mother’s unhappiness – and her own. Yet she knew that her mother had played a large part in it. Mrs Hawkins had been the one who had planned it all, forcing her daughter to lie all these years and warning her of her father’s anger if he’d ever found out – but he’d known all along. He’d told her that he might have belted her, but then it would have been all over and she could have brought Honour up as her own. She might even have found a life for herself rather than hiding in shame all these years.
Flo went back down to the kitchen. Honour had scrubbed all the pans and moulds, putting them away for next time. She had one hundred and twenty little boxes with their sugar mice already inside; they would add the coconut ice tomorrow and then put in the lollipops and the tangerines last thing – and if Honour’s toffee turned out well there would be a little bag of that too. Honour was going to wrap the open boxes in cellophane and tie them with a little ribbon and a cut-out paper Christmas tree.
‘You’ve worked so hard, love,’ Flo said, looking at the neat kitchen. ‘Get to bed because you’ll be tired in the morning. It’s a pity you don’t have anywhere to go on Christmas Eve… Couldn’t you go out with Kitty?’
‘She’s going to her boyfriend’s house for a while, but we might get together later. I thought we might all go to the carol service – if Dad doesn’t mind…’
‘I think he’ll be all right on his own; he can listen to the wireless.’
‘Yes, I’m glad he’s feelin’ better.’
‘Me too… Up you go, love.’
Flo took a last look in the shop, made sure everywhere was secure for the night and went up herself. She realised that a lot of the anxiety that had been hanging over her for a while had lifted.
Her father’s gift of the silver sixpences and his tacit approval of what she was doing had given her a warm glow inside. She would have still gone ahead whatever he said, but that evening there had been laughter and a real family feeling in the kitchen that she had missed for too long…
As Flo undressed for the night, she thought about Robbie and his children. She knew things had been hard for them and wondered if they would be at the mission on Christmas Day. It would be nice to talk to him again and she had a special gift for Ruthie and for Ben…
19
Robbie finished repairing the shed door and stood back to look at his handiwork. When he’d started that morning, the roof had had great holes in it and the door was off its hinges. He had made it look almost new again and was proud of his work. The lady of the house came out to him with a mug of tea.
‘That does look good, Mr Graham. My husband has been talking about gettin’ a new shed for months but couldn’t afford it. When I heard about you, I thought it would be the best present I could give him – two pounds five shillings I think you said?’
‘Yes, that includes the materials for the roof,’ Robbie told her. ‘It should last another ten years now or more. Most of it was still good…’
‘Here is your money,’ she said and handed over two pound notes and two half crowns. ‘I’ve got a few more jobs in the house – but I’d rather leave those until after Christmas.’
‘Just let me know when you want me,’ Robbie said. ‘I’m glad to have been of help.’
He packed his tools and walked out of the back yard, whistling. The money in his pocket meant he could buy that Meccano set for Ben; from the colourful picture on the box it looked as if it might have the pieces to make a train engine, and his son would be both surprised and delighted as he didn’t expect anything.
It was three in the afternoon. He would call in on John Hansen at the mission and then he’d go round to Bert Waters’ house and see if there was anything he could do to help.
John was about to lock up when he got there. He greeted Robbie with a smile of welcome.
‘Just the man I wanted to see,’ he said. ‘I had a letter this morning, Robbie, and it’s good news. They’ve accepted that the roof needs urgent repair – and they want you to do it. Mr Rolf really appreciated your work and your honesty – he told me he is ready to pay up front for all the materials and pay you a retainer. You can put your account in when you’ve done the work – that’s if you’re prepared to do it for us.’
‘Yes, I’d be happy to do it,’ Robbie said eagerly. ‘I liked your Mr Rolf too and it’s good steady work that will keep me goin’ for several weeks. I’ve begun to get private work, John, but it’s still slow. This job will set me on my feet for a while and then…’ He shrugged. ‘I’m determined to make a go of it…’
‘I wondered if you would bring the children to the Christmas Day dinner,’ John said
‘I think the kids would enjoy it,’ Robbie said. ‘But I want to contribute in some way – what can I do to help?’
‘Do you have a few extra chairs you could bring round? Kitchen or dining chairs – we’ve got a hundred and twenty sitting down on Christmas Day. Some of the other chairs that have been offered will need fetching too.’
‘I’ve got four kitchen chairs I can bring,’ Robbie said, ‘but I’ll give a hand with fetching whatever is needed – and even the washing-up afterwards. I know you have lots of willing helpers – but I need to earn my lunch.’
‘We never say no to help,’ John said and stamped his feet on the frosty pavement. ‘It’s too cold to stand about. I have a few visits to make…’
‘Yes, and I’m goin’ to pop into Bert and Millie Waters – see if there is anythin’ I can do, fetch in the coal and make up the range. If that goes out, they’ll freeze.’
‘You brought Millie’s bed downstairs, I understand?’
‘I brought Bert’s downstairs too. It was something they’d resisted for years, but it will be much better for them. Even when they’re up and about again – those steep stairs were just too much for Bert. The doctor says he needs to rest more…’
‘Well, I think his neighbour is popping in as much as she can, as is Flo Hawkins…’
‘Yes – and Nurse Mary. My kids are round there every day, in and out all the time now they’re off school. Ruthie sits with Millie and Ben just does what he can and pops in for a chat with Bert. I know Ben works at a lot of little jobs for various folk. I’m not truly sure what he does but I know he’s been saving up for Christmas…’
John nodded and smiled. ‘I’ve given Ben the occasional job myself. I’ll see you on Christmas Eve to move the chairs… and on the day to help me carve up the chickens. I’m having the poultry cooked in Wright’s Bakery ovens… because no one else would be able to cook them all.’
Robbie smiled. ‘Even your devoted band of helpers might have found that too much on Christmas Day. I’ll be there about three on Christmas Eve to help with the chairs, after your regulars have gone?’
‘Yes, see you then…’
Robbie gave him a wave as they parted. A smile touched his mouth as he walked towards the row of terraced houses where Millie and Bert lived. These houses had once been marked for clearance but the depression had put paid to schemes like that for a while and perhaps it was just as well, because where would the tenants go? He couldn’t imagine most of them settling in the new flats the council had talked of building.
Robbie knocked at the door and then went in. It felt a bit chilly and he checked the range; that needed making up, but first he had to let Millie and Bert know he’d arrived. He knocked softly at the parlour door and Bert said he should enter. Here the fire was still burning well. Millie looked as if she was asleep and Bert put a finger to his lips.
‘I’m going to bring in the coke and coal and make up the range again,’ Robbie said. ‘Can I make you a cup of tea or a sandwich?’
‘Effie popped in two hours ago and brought us some hot food,’ Bert said with a smile. ‘Your pair will be here any minute and Ben wi
ll make us all tea. Millie will wake up then. She likes to have Ruthie on her bed; they’re looking at a picture book together…’
‘As long as they’re not a nuisance?’
‘They could never be that,’ Bert said. ‘It makes my Millie’s day to hear their voices and see their little faces. She’s a lot better now – I reckon we’ll both be on our feet for Christmas…’
‘What about your dinner?’ Robbie asked. ‘John Hansen asked us to the Christmas lunch at the mission – I suppose you two would qualify…’
‘I don’t think Millie is up to it – besides, Effie would be put out. She’s already said she’s goin’ ter bring us our dinner when they sit down to theirs. Her Keith will probably bring it round while she dishes up. We’ve never been so well looked after… Flo offered to bring us dinner too, but it’s nearer for Effie.’
‘You deserve it,’ Robbie said. ‘I’ll make up that fire in the kitchen and put the kettle on ready for tea…’
*
Robbie finished work the next morning and went straight home. He thought he ought to catch up on some of the jobs he’d been neglecting, take the sheets round to the laundry and put the children’s clothes in the bath tub to soak before he mangled them and hung them over the range in the kitchen.
The clean sheets from the laundry were wrapped in a parcel of brown paper and string, and starched so they crackled when he took them from the wrappings. He stripped his bed and Ruthie’s and then pulled the sheets from Ben’s. As he pulled the pillows from the bed, he saw a box hidden underneath and frowned. What was Ben doing with a cash box – and one that looked as if it had been pried open at some time. It was in his hand as Ben entered the bedroom carrying a small parcel, which he hid behind his back when he saw his father.
‘Where did you get this box, Ben?’ Robbie rattled it and opened it to see that there were several shillings, sixpences, threepenny bits and some pennies. ‘That’s a lot of money, son…’
‘I earned the money doin’ jobs for folk,’ Ben said, ‘and I found the box. I saw someone put it in a dustbin and I took it out after they’d gone…’
‘What made you do that?’ Robbie was puzzled, but he didn’t want to accuse his son of wrongdoing, because he knew how that felt.
‘I went round to the bookies for Arnie at the newsagent and I saw this bloke coming out of Finney’s…’ Ben said, looking nervously at him. ‘I know I shouldn’t have taken the bets, Dad, and I’ve stopped, told Arnie I won’t do it – but when I saw this odd bloke bring something out from under his coat and put it in the bin I was curious. I thought he might ’ave stole it, so I took it and showed Finney. It wasn’t his and he told me not to mess with blokes like that… said he’d put ten pounds on a special Christmas race. That’s a lot of money to bet, isn’t it?’
‘Yes – if it was honestly earned.’ Robbie frowned. ‘Why did you keep the cash box?’
‘I wanted somewhere to keep things… and I’ve been collecting old bits of metal to sell round the junkyard, things I pick up in the street. I sold most of it but the box was more useful…’ Ben said and Robbie nodded, because his son was nothing if not enterprising. But there was a line between enterprise and breaking the law and Ben needed to learn.
‘I wouldn’t be pleased if I knew you were doing something dishonest, son. I know it’s hard going without things, but once you step over that line you could ruin your life.’
‘I know,’ Ben said. ‘I’ve told Arnie I won’t do anything wrong again – and the cash box had been thrown away.’
‘I’m asking you about this, Ben, because a little while ago I was accused of stealing a cash box very like this one from the mission; I didn’t take it and John Hansen apologised, but this might be it. I want you to empty your things out, Ben. We’re going to take this to the mission and you’re goin’ to tell John exactly what you told me – is that all right with you?’
‘Yes, Dad,’ Ben looked at him uncertainly. ‘Are yer mad at me fer running bets for Arnie a few times?’
‘No, not if you’ve realised it was wrong and stopped.’ Robbie frowned, because if Ben had been less honest or less wary he might have got into trouble – and that was Robbie’s fault, because he’d neglected to ask what his son got up to after school.
Ben took the box from him. He opened the drawer of his little bedside chest, put the parcel he’d been hiding behind his back into it and emptied the money in to the drawer.
‘We’ll find you something better to keep your wages in,’ Robbie said. ‘If you can describe the man you saw that evening to John it may help to prevent anything more being taken from the mission.’
‘I’m ready, Dad.’
Robbie nodded and smiled at him. He put a hand on his shoulder. ‘If it belongs to the mission we must give the box back, but otherwise you might as well keep it – it’s broken and it doesn’t lock.’
‘I don’t need to lock it,’ Ben said. ‘I just wanted somewhere to save my money.’
‘Perhaps you could have a little savings book,’ Robbie said and smiled at him. ‘I’m proud of what you’ve done, Ben – and I do trust you, but I had to ask about the box.’ He smiled at his son as they left the cottage and walked to the mission.
John was in his office when they arrived. Soup and bread was still being served in the large canteen, but John was making a telephone call. They saw him through the glass partition and waited until he’d finished.
‘Hello, Ben,’ John said. ‘To what do I owe this pleasure?’
‘Ben has something to show you,’ Robbie said. ‘He found it and I wondered if it might be the one you lost… Tell Mr Hansen just how you found it, son.’
Ben described seeing a man leaving Finney’s and thinking he looked furtive as he dumped the box in someone’s dustbin.
‘I thought he might have pinched it, so I took it to Mr Finney and he said it wasn’t his… so I brought it home,’ Ben finished. ‘I didn’t mean to steal it. I thought no one wanted it.’
John took the mangled box and turned it over, looking at a mark on the bottom. ‘Yes, I do believe it is ours – the one that was stolen. Could you describe the man who put it in that dustbin, Ben?’
Ben obliged, recalling how the man was bulky, dressed in filthy clothes with long untidy hair and a bushy beard. ‘He was mutterin’ to himself,’ Ben finished on a decisive note. ‘That’s what made me notice him – I thought he looked a bit mad… Finney told me he put ten bob on a special Christmas race.’
John frowned and then nodded as if Ben’s words struck a chord. ‘You’re very observant, Ben, and that is slightly worrying – because I’ve seen the man you’ve just described hanging about outside the mission as recently as yesterday. I know he’s been here for soup more than once – but if he stole our money…’
‘You don’t want that sort here,’ Robbie growled. ‘I don’t grudge him a meal any more than you would – but his kind cause trouble.’
‘Yes, he has caused bother on more than one occasion, pushing in before his turn.’
‘Men who are forced to stand in line for what is probably the only food they get all day are bound to be tetchy,’ Robbie said. ‘Yet there are always some who seek to take advantage. You need to make sure this thief does not get another chance to rob you.’
‘He will not be admitted if I can prevent it,’ John said. ‘I’m as charitable as the next man but you cannot help some people and one rogue may spoil it for others…’
‘Let’s hope we don’t get any gatecrashers spoiling the fun for the kids,’ Robbie said and lowered his voice to a whisper. ‘Bert was telling me that Flo and Honour Hawkins are giving the children surprise presents after dinner…’
‘Yes, they’ve been marvellous,’ John said and his honest face lit up with pleasure. ‘Flo wanted all the children of the area to benefit and she asked me for our list of the families who are likely to have nothing this Christmas – the fathers are out of work and some of them won’t have a stocking at all, perhaps not much food ei
ther…’
‘I’ve known how that feels,’ Robbie said and frowned. ‘Thanks to you, John, I made a fresh start and my kids won’t go without this year – but I think Flo and Honour are wonderful to give up so much of their time…’ He felt a little glow of pride in the girl he now knew to be his daughter, even though he couldn’t claim her.
‘Well, I’ve been sworn to secrecy,’ John said a twinkle in his eye. ‘I’ve already been given seventy gifts to distribute to families who won’t come to the mission on Christmas Day for one reason or another. I think we have another fifty children who will be given a gift at the mission.’
‘You must have nearly a hundred and ten or twenty meals to provide… That’s an awful lot of work for your helpers.’
‘They’ve all decided to cook their own Christmas meal early so that they can serve a two o’clock luncheon for our regulars. As I said, the poultry is being cooked for us, but my helpers have mountains of cabbage, carrots and parsnips to prepare, as well as mashed potatoes and gravy – followed by tinned fruit and custard.’
‘You’re providing a slap bang up do for them,’ Robbie said approvingly. ‘I’m afraid it’s a long time since we had anything like that; I wouldn’t know where to start, but what you’re doing is wonderful… and your helpers are marvellous, giving up their time on Christmas Day.’
‘Indeed they are…’ John smiled. ‘I am blessed in my friends.’
‘We’ll leave your cash box here,’ Robbie said. ‘It’s time we went home. Ruthie is sitting with Millie and Bert – and she’ll be hungry. I’ve got a bit of ham today and we’re having a few chips with it…’
‘Cor, Dad, that’s my favourite!’ Ben said and licked his lips. ‘I’m starvin’…’ He looked at John. ‘I’m sorry I kept your box, Mr Hansen. I didn’t know it was yours.’
‘I expect I shall just put it in the dustbin,’ John admitted. ‘You can keep it if you have a use for it.’