Charity

by Lesley Pearse

  Everything was remarkable about these people. They believed even children were entitled to an opinion. They never brought up God or church. They used the word ‘fun’ a great deal, a word that just hadn’t been in her parents’ vocabulary. They laughed uproariously at jokes, sometimes cuddled like sweethearts, and they argued quite heatedly at times. Their world felt so good, yet alien to everything Charity had been taught. Part of Charity’s mind still clung to her parents’ values, and it confused her.

  ‘Can we stay here for ever if we behave?’

  She regretted the rash question the moment the words had left her lips and, worse still, she saw a flicker of uncertainty in the woman’s green eyes.

  ‘Come and sit beside me.’ Lou patted the settee. ‘Come on! I like to be close when I talk to people about important things.’

  Lou was very anxious about Charity. She was concerned with the future of all four of them, but could sense that this child was deeply troubled.

  Such a sad little girl. Of course she looked forlorn because of her bandages and sticking plaster, but it went deeper than that. In many ways she seemed younger than Prue, even though she was very maternal and protective. She was so thin and underdeveloped for a girl of fifteen.

  Lou had already had a glimpse into the Stratton household from things Toby and Prue had said and she shuddered. A chronically depressed mother, a bible-thumping father, a home that was ruled by fear. She’d planned to wait until after the funeral to discuss their future, when she herself knew what would happen, but she wasn’t going to tell lies now, not even to soothe.

  ‘I can’t say what will happen for certain.’ Lou’s thin, vivacious face took on a slightly tense look. ‘You see right now Miss Downes, your social worker, is trying to discover if your parents had any close relations. If they did, one of them might become your legal guardian. But at the moment we have to take each day as it comes. I wish I could promise you that you’ll all stay here for ever. But I can’t, Charity.’

  ‘I don’t think we have any relations,’ Charity said quickly. ‘I’ve never heard of any.’

  ‘What do you know about your mother and father?’ Lou raised one fair eyebrow. ‘Where did they grow up?’

  Charity thought hard, then shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I’ve often wondered about it. How she came to meet Father and why she was always so sad.’

  ‘Tell me what your mother was like.’ Lou changed tack. ‘Describe her to me.’ She had already been given a description by Miss Downes, of both parents.

  ‘She looked older than she was,’ Charity said.

  Lou was surprised by this sparse description. Children usually listed the things their mothers were noted for: their cooking, sewing or reading stories.

  ‘Was she blonde, like you? Did she like reading, or music?’

  Charity shrugged again.

  ‘I think she liked birds, she used to put the breadcrumbs out in the yard. She was good at sewing.’

  Lou could tell by the children’s speech and their manners that Mrs Stratton hadn’t been from a working-class background.

  ‘Did you talk together much?’

  Charity looked baffled at the question.

  ‘I don’t mean about everyday things. But feelings, what you wanted to do when you were grown up.’

  Charity shook her head.

  ‘Well what about other things? Did she ever explain about getting married and having babies?’

  Lou expected a blush, even an embarrassed giggle, but she didn’t expect the fearful look that came into the girl’s eyes, or the way her fingers nervously picked at the hem of her skirt.

  ‘No! I mean, I knew about babies because I was there when James was born.’

  ‘Well that’s good,’ Lou smiled warmly. ‘No wonder you’re so close to him. Lots of girls of your age find all that a complete mystery. I know I did. Can you believe, I never even knew about periods? I was terrified when it happened. I thought I was dying.’

  Charity had a blank look on her face.

  ‘You have started them, haven’t you?’ Lou asked.

  Charity felt herself growing very hot and uncomfortable.

  ‘No,’ she whispered.

  Lou wasn’t surprised. Charity showed no sign of any kind of development, but she felt the girl’s anxiety.

  ‘Well perhaps I should explain the whole thing.’ Lou smiled, putting down her sewing and picking up a pad and pencil. ‘It’s bound to happen soon and when it does you’ll be prepared.’

  She drew a sketch of a woman, putting in the Fallopian tubes and the womb, then proceeded to go through what would happen.

  ‘We all pick up some funny ideas,’ Lou grinned. ‘I always thought our tummy buttons had some vital purpose, but of course they don’t. We just go along having a period once a month until such time as we get married.’ She paused at that point to make sure charity was taking it in.

  When a couple marry they make love to have babies. The man puts his penis in here and his sperm travels all the way up here –’ she pointed to the womb on her sketch. ‘Then the female egg comes down and joins it, and snuggles down in this nice cosy place and grows into a baby. I’ve got a good book about all this, would you like to read it?’

  ‘No,’ Charity snapped. Just the mention of the word ‘penis’ made her feel sick. She wanted Lou to shut up, to tear up that sketch and leave her in peace.

  ‘Oh dear, I’ve embarrassed you.’ Lou put one hand on Charity’s face and tried to draw it round to hers. ‘I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry, but girls have to know these things.’

  Charity was mortified, sure she’d given herself away, but she didn’t know how to put it right.

  ‘I knew all that,’ she said, twisting her hands together, the sick feeling growing stronger. In fact she didn’t know properly, even though technically she was no longer a virgin.

  ‘Well that’s good.’ Lou refused to be frozen out. ‘But I think I should take you along to my doctor and get him to check you out.’

  ‘I’m not going to a doctor,’ Charity panicked and jumped up. ‘I don’t want a man looking at me!’

  ‘Charity!’ Lou caught hold of Charity’s arms and held her. She knew such a violent reaction had to mean something more than plain embarrassment, and she knew she couldn’t ignore it. ‘It doesn’t have to be a man. I know a lady doctor too and it’s only a blood sample, nothing more.’

  The moment passed. Lou made a cup of tea, dropped the subject and they watched Wagon Train together.

  That night Charity dreamed of splashing through a pool of water and woke suddenly to find she had wet the bed. In the dark she lay there sobbing, not knowing what to do. It turned cold and she got out of bed, stripped off her nightdress and shoved it down the back of the radiator. She put her clothes on, then lay on the floor wrapped in the eiderdown till morning.

  She didn’t sleep again. Terror gnawed at her. If Auntie Lou was to find out she’d surely throw them all out. Should she run away now? Leave a note begging Lou to look after the others?

  Charity felt like a five-year-old as she lay on the floor. She had no money, nowhere to go. This was God’s way of paying her back for all the bad things she’d done. No one would ever like her; she was tainted.

  Geoff was surprised to find Charity down in the kitchen fully dressed when he came down at seven to make some tea.

  ‘Couldn’t sleep?’ He rubbed his eyes, then wrapped himself tighter into his plaid dressing-gown. He noted that the table was laid for breakfast and also, more importantly, the dark circles under Charity’s eyes.

  ‘I had a bad dream.’ She tried to smile but her lips refused to co-operate. ‘I think it was just the burns prickling.’

  ‘Well let’s have some tea then,’ he said, glancing down at Charity’s legs. He noticed she’d removed the bandages. ‘Lou will look at them later. I expect a touch of ointment will soothe them.’

  Charity was in the den looking at a book when Lou called her into the kitchen. Toby and Prue were sitting a
t the table, drawing. James was pushing around a woolly dog on wheels. It was eleven o’clock, no one had remarked on anything unusual over breakfast and the fear inside her was gradually subsiding.

  She saw Auntie Lou bundling sheets and her nightdress into the washing machine. The blood froze in her veins, and panic overwhelmed her.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ Lou turned towards Charity and opened her arms. ‘Did you think I’d be cross?’

  Charity avoided her arms and just hung her head in silence. She was sure Auntie Lou would find out the truth. The temptation to spill it all out was so strong, she felt as if she was being drawn into a wind tunnel. But in the back of her mind was that embroidered text on the parlour wall: ‘Honour thy Father and Mother’.

  Father couldn’t hurt her again. Prudence was safe. What good would it do bringing something so shameful out into the open? It wouldn’t make her forget, she couldn’t go back to being as innocent as Prue. All a confession would do was bring shame to the family name.

  ‘Life’s been hard,’ she whispered. ‘Sometimes I wished I could just leave home. But I never wanted anything like this to happen.’

  ‘You’ll feel better soon,’ Lou murmured, enveloping Charity in an aroma of Blue Grass perfume and newly shampooed hair. ‘It’s nature’s way of healing, don’t try to hold it back.’

  The funeral service would have pleased Father. The sun shone and Babylon Hall was full to capacity with all his reformed drunks, the sad and the lonely people who thought so much of him. There in the one place Charity had felt proud of her father she was able to mourn. Silently she promised her parents she would take care of her brothers and sister and vowed to keep her secrets to herself. Auntie Lou had said no more about seeing a doctor. Everything was over.

  Easter came with the suggestion that happy times were here to stay. Uncle Geoff led an Easter egg hunt in the garden after church. Prudence was beside herself with happiness because Auntie Lou had bought her the pale blue dress with a smocked yoke she’d admired for so long. Charity got a full circular skirt, a wonderful emerald green one with a separate can-can petticoat and a white ‘Goosegirl’ blouse with a ruffle round the scoop neck.

  On Easter Monday Uncle Geoff took them over to the fair on the Common and they went on every single ride. It was magical. The big wheel whizzing round with its load of screaming passengers, all lit up like a huge Catherine wheel. ‘Jailhouse Rock’ was blasting out, vying with the noise from the rifle range, the carousel and the waltzer.

  It was dark when they went home, Uncle Geoff carrying the sleeping James up on his shoulder. People were still flocking to the fair. Young men in smart suits with girls on their arms. Teddy boys on motorbikes and teenage girls in great giggling gangs. Toby and Prue had candyfloss stuck to their faces and a pink glow on their cheeks.

  ‘What’s going to happen now?’ Charity asked Uncle Geoff. ‘I was supposed to start work after Easter,’ she said, glancing back over her shoulder to take one last look at the fairground.

  ‘Lou suggested that you stay at home till the summer,’ Uncle Geoff said and grabbed sleeping James more securely. ‘We could give you a bit of private coaching. How does that sound?’

  ‘Nice,’ Charity said cautiously. She meant it sounded wonderful, but she was always cautious. ‘What about Prue and Toby?’

  ‘We’ve got them moved into the local school.’ Uncle Geoff smiled down at her. ‘A new start, eh!’

  Charity had grown fond of Uncle Geoff, despite her nervousness of men in general. He laughed a great deal, great guffaws that shook his bushy beard and made his eyes wrinkle up. She liked his lean, unthreatening frame, the careless way he dressed and his gentle voice.

  ‘There’s things we should talk about in the next day or two.’ His dark brown eyes looked down at her with kindness and understanding. ‘Not now with little ears pinned back,’ he said, nodding his head towards Prue and Toby in front.

  It was at the end of the week that Miss Downes called. She wasn’t alone this time, but with a younger woman called Miss Brady. When it was suggested that Miss Brady take the younger children out for ice-cream while Miss Downes stayed behind ‘for a chat’, Charity felt very apprehensive.

  ‘Now let’s sit down and have a drink together.’ Auntie Lou handed Charity a glass of milk and the adults had coffee.

  They made small talk for a while, discussing James’s new words, Prue’s desire to learn dancing and Toby’s passion for football. Miss Downes kept blinking and humming as if in agreement with everything.

  ‘Let’s get right to the point,’ Auntie Lou said eventually. ‘Miss Downes has found some relatives, Charity.’

  Just the way everyone had been trying to delay this news gave Charity a feeling of impending disaster and all she could do was stare at Aunt Lou.

  ‘You have an uncle and a grandmother,’ Miss Downes spoke at last. ‘We discovered both grandparents on your father’s side are dead, and he had no brothers or sisters. But your mother’s mother is still alive and your mother’s older brother, Stephen.’

  ‘Are they nice?’ Charity asked. ‘Do they want to see us?’

  The adults exchanged glances that seemed ominous.

  Charity looked from one to the other desperately. ‘Tell me the truth. I want to know.’

  Uncle Geoff cleared his throat.

  ‘It’s not that they aren’t “nice”,’ he said carefully, his brown eyes gentle. ‘It’s just a bit awkward.’

  Geoffrey Charles had learned about these relatives several days earlier, but was still stunned by the news.

  ‘You see your grandmother is very old, Charity,’ Geoff said carefully. ‘Your uncle is crippled. They didn’t even know about you four, they lost touch with your mother before any of you were born.’

  Charity immediately imagined these relatives as much like the kind of people who lived in Greenwich.

  ‘Well that’s that, then.’ She shrugged philosophically. ‘So what happens now?’

  She saw the three adults look at one another and knew there was more. It was very odd that Miss Downes was saying nothing. She just sat, hands clasped in her lap, still wearing her black cloche hat.

  ‘What is it?’ she asked, looking hard at Lou. ‘Have we got to go somewhere else now?’

  Lou ran her fingers through her hair.

  ‘Oh Charity,’ she sighed. ‘Where do I begin? You see your mother’s family are rather grand. They don’t live in a house like this one, but a mansion in Oxfordshire.’

  Charity’s eyes nearly popped out of her head.

  ‘Let me start at the beginning,’ Lou went on. ‘Your mother’s maiden name was Pennycuick. Brigadier Pennycuick, her father, came from a long line of military men, but he died some years ago. Your uncle was a colonel in the same regiment, but he was wounded during the war and he still lives with your grandmother in Studley Priory.’

  ‘Studley Priory?’ Charity questioned.

  ‘That’s the name of their house,’ Lou explained. ‘From what we can gather, your grandparents fell out with your mother when she married your father.’

  ‘Why?’ Charity asked.

  ‘We don’t know. It was during the war and odd things happened to lots of people then. Maybe they even had someone else in mind for their daughter; she was born twenty years after Stephen, so perhaps they over-protected her.’

  ‘Does that mean they don’t even want to see us?’ Charity felt a certain pride that she had an interesting lineage, though judging by Lou and Geoff’s expressions they weren’t so happy about it.

  ‘They haven’t made a date yet,’ Auntie Lou said softly. ‘But your uncle is prepared to become your legal guardian, and indeed to provide for you.’

  Charity mulled this over for a moment. She knew enough about foster parents to know they got paid for looking after children.

  ‘So does that mean he’ll pay for us to stay here?’

  Geoff Charles half smiled. He was surprised by Charity’s grasp of the situation. He just wished he
could assure her that it was only a question of money.

  ‘He hasn’t had time to think that through yet,’ he said gently. ‘But for the present, at least, this is your home.’

  Charity had a sinking feeling about that phrase ‘at present’.

  ‘He won’t split us up or anything?’ she asked fearfully. ‘You will tell him we all need to be together?’

  ‘We already have,’ Miss Downes chipped in. ‘Mr Charles has outlined that you need a little coaching and that the younger children are about to start at the local school. Of course little James needs stability right now too. I did suggest to your uncle that maybe the first point of contact could be that you spend a short holiday with him and his mother during the summer holidays.’

  Charity nodded. The summer holidays were ages away and any threat seemed to have vanished. No one was even speaking about her getting a job! Maybe they would get to stay here for ever.

  ‘Why don’t you run down to the ice-cream shop and catch up with Miss Brady?’ Miss Downes held out a half-crown to her and smiled with unusual warmth. ‘Don’t say anything about our little chat just yet to Toby and Prue, though.’

  ‘I think she took that very well,’ Miss Downes said, turning in her seat to watch Charity running down the road, her can-can petticoat bouncing beneath her green skirt showing rainbow colours. ‘A nice, sensible girl!’

  Lou looked sharply at Miss Downes, colour rising in her cheeks.

  ‘You haven’t any idea, have you?’ she exploded. ‘That “sensible” girl has been through hell. She might be fifteen and old enough to work, but she’s still a child. Now you plan to let some old codger who hasn’t a clue about children put her through more!’

  ‘Now that’s unfair.’ Miss Downes’s thin lips quivered with indignation. ‘He’s their uncle and it is only right and proper that he should decide their future.’

  ‘His words on the phone were, “Send the girl here, we could do with another pair of hands.”’ Lou’s green eyes blazed. ‘Don’t you think she’s had enough of being a skivvy?’