The boys all gathered around to hear what Elsie told them.
“Tonight we are going to have a special dinner of chicken and roast potatoes with chocolate pudding for afters, and you can all stay up late and watch films or play games.”
“Hooray!” they all shouted.
Elsie thought, ‘I’d better get busy – where are you, Mrs Simpson?’
Then the phone rang and there was Carrig on the other end.
“Where are you? You missed all the excitement. We’ve had the police in and old man Wrongo and his wife have been carted away to the police station, so all is well, Carrig – we got him in the end.”
“I’m just following the beautiful smell of home baking.” Carrig spoke to Sarah. “It reminds me of the smell of Mum’s cooking when I used to come home from school. She used to bake all the bread for home, and for Mrs Russel as well, and at weekends she made cakes and apple pie. She taught me how to make apple pie.”
“Oh, well, you’ll just have to show me how to do it.”
“I will some day.”
Sarah handed the boy a hot buttered scone, and, as soon as it disappeared, another one, this time with strawberry jam.
“Truly delicious,” Carrig remarked as Sarah went to the door taking the plate with her, joking that he would eat them all. Carrig laughed and cried at how happy he felt just at this moment in time. Touching his shoulder, he said a quiet thank you and finished his drink.
“There is something I’d like you to do for me, Carrig. I would like you to go upstairs and tell me what sort of state that room is in. John and I haven’t been up there in such a long time. I am troubled with arthritis, and John won’t go up any more.” Just when Carrig was wondering why, Sarah carried on: “We have a son, Carrig, but he turned out to be a bad one. He was a good lad at first, but at high school he got in with a lot of bad boys and just went along the wrong road. He was in trouble with the police, time and time again. Then he ran away and slept rough for a long time in the city. Every now and then we would hear how he was, until in the end we just stopped worrying about him. The only time we have seen him in the past twenty years he was looking for money. At first we gave it to him, and then we were told by the Salvation Army that we were just feeding his bad habits, and that’s when we stopped helping him.”
“That’s a very sad story. I find it hard to believe he would give up all this for a life on the streets, sleeping rough. I am so sorry to hear that. You two lovely people don’t deserve that. If there is anything I can do to help, please let me know.”
“You have helped already, my boy, just by coming here and telling us your story.”
Later on, when Carrig was hanging the blankets out in the air before making up the bed again, he wandered down towards the road and remembered his bike. It was gone.
“Carrig, Carrig, where are ye?” John called out to him as he came up the yard, not knowing how to tell John his bike had gone. John showed him to the large shed, which had been built on to the end of the hay shed. “Come and see where I put it.”
There was his bicycle, all safe and sound. Carrig was astonished to see a Morris Minor just behind John. There it sat, all shining and new-looking.
“Oh, you’ve got a car!” The boy’s eyes were bulging with excitement. “It looks like new.”
“Ah, well, I’ve had her for a while now, but I don’t drive any more. My sight, ye see.”
“Looks as if it’s never been driven at all.”
“Oh, aye, she’s been driven all right, but now I just turn over the motor to keep her right. Have you ever driven, Carrig?”
“Yes.”
“Is that so? Well, you’d better get in and try her out for size, then.”
Carrig slowly slid into the driver’s seat of the dear wee car and turned the key. They both listened to the smooth running of the motor.
“The motor is certainly in good condition. Like I said, I turn her over every now and again just to keep her right. Have you driven much, Carrig?”
“Oh yes, lots of times. There is still a car in my father’s garage, just where he left it.”
John could see that the young man was now thinking about his father.
He turned to Carrig and spoke in a cheerful voice: “Would ye like to take her for a wee spin?”
“Well, if ye’re sure.”
John slipped in beside him, and Carrig put the car into first gear and slowly moved forward towards the gate. He put the brake on.
“Now, you know I haven’t got my licence yet, but I can drive along with someone who has – you know how it is.”
“Oh, never bother yerself about that, Carrig. There’s never any police about this place, unless they have good reason. I haven’t seen a policeman about here for many a long day.”
It felt so good to be driving again. It had been a while since Wally and he had had a drive together.
Sarah had been looking for them when they returned in about half an hour.
“What’s in yer mind, letting that young man drive? Sure, anything could have happened.”
“Sure, he can drive like a professional driver. Never worry yerself, girl.”
John and Carrig placed the car back and came inside to tell Sarah all about it.
“I’d have no problem with Carrig driving the car, and I was just thinking that we could maybe all go for a wee run over to where Carrig came from and meet up with Elsie and the others.”
After lunch, with young Carrig at the wheel they headed for the Waimakariri Gorge.
“Oh, can you stop here a minute, Carrig? I just want to have a look at the river. I haven’t seen it for years, and it’s so lovely today.”
They trundled over the wooden bridge and on up to the top of the road to Oxford.
“This is the way you rode your bike, Carrig.”
“Yes, this is where I stopped at the river to wash my face and have a drink, and I didn’t know what was going to happen next in my life. I just kept riding on and on, and something stopped me at your gate. I was just thinking of finding a place to have a sleep when suddenly this opening in the hedge caught my attention, and the rest you know.”
“Thank God you came to us, Carrig. In the short time you’ve been in our lives you have made such changes. I still can’t believe you’ve done so much work in the garden and helping around the house. It’s been great having you stay with us; and if things should change, always remember we’re there for you.”
“Thanks.”
They arrived at Erindale just after lunch and Elsie came running out to greet them.
When Carrig stepped out of the car she threw herself into his arms and cried, “Oh, I’m sorry, but I’m so glad to see you again.”
“Now, Elsie, this is Mr and Mrs McMaster.”
“Sarah and John, please.” Sarah spoke to Elsie.
She hugged them both to her. “You’ve been so good to Carrig – I can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done.”
“He’s been a godsend to us, Elsie. It’s lovely to meet up with you.”
“Please come in and meet the boys – well, some of them go away at weekends and some stay here. We have a new supervisor coming next Monday. She is a lovely person, and everyone is looking forward to that. I don’t know how much Carrig has told you about what’s been going on here, but we are all happy now.”
Carrig ran inside to meet the others, and sure enough they were all rushing up to him.
“Good to see you, Carrig,” shouted big Tom.
And then, slowly walking towards him, was the wee boy he most needed to see – Jimmy. They both cried together, and hugged each other.
“Thank you.”
“There’s no need for that, Jimmy. I’m only glad that the plan was successful in the end.”
Elsie spoke up first to Ca
rrig: “Now, Wally has been told where you were staying. Apparently he rung Mrs Russel and she told him everything. So now everyone is up to date with what’s happening and all is well.”
Carrig shot off with the boys, chatting away ninety to the dozen, and Elsie pulled out two chairs for John and Sarah to be seated while she left to boil the kettle, returning later with a tray of tea and cakes.
“Now, help yourselves, please, while I take this phone call. I won’t be too long until I come back.”
When she returned, the three sat and had a good chat about everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours.
“The police rang me to say that the Wrights have been held in custody, and there will be a trial date given to them later. They are not allowed back into the home again – their possessions will be picked up and given to them.” Elsie went on: “I have been asked to stay on until the new supervisor arrives next Monday.”
“I – that is, we were wondering if we could keep Carrig. I know we probably haven’t got the right to ask that, but, you see, we have become attached to him, and if we can’t have him to live with us, well, it would break our hearts, and that’s the truth.” Sarah couldn’t speak again for a while, and then, as tears streamed down her face, she spoke to Elsie: “He is like our grandson – precious to us. I think we are meant to keep him, Elsie.”
“I have to tell you that the police have arranged to see Carrig this afternoon, if you would like to meet them.”
“That would be perfect.”
“There’s a small room at the back, with a TV set, if you would like to wait in there, and I’ll come and get you when they arrive.”
“Thanks, Elsie – yes, we can wait in there. Thank you.”
Carrig joined them after a while.
“Don’t worry – I haven’t forgotten you. I’m just so excited to see the boys again – especially wee Jimmy.”
“You do what you have to, Carrig. We will be OK until the police come.”
It was half past two when eventually the police car drove up in front of the home. The same inspector and his sergeant stepped from the car and approached the front door.
Touching his hat when Elsie opened the door, the Inspector said, “Good afternoon, Miss Glover.”
Elsie’s face flushed a little, and she spoke to them quietly: “Please come in.”
The two tall policemen stepped inside and followed Elsie into the dining room.
“Would it be possible to see the boys in the small office, each in turn.”
“All of them?” Elsie spoke in a surprised voice.
“Oh no, just Carrig Anderson and Jimmy Wallace,” the Inspector replied.
Carrig was taken in first, and the Inspector introduced himself and his sergeant to him.
“You are Carrig Peter Anderson?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You have resided in this home known as Erindale for several months now?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You have, in fact, committed a crime, in running away from the home, but your reason for doing so is such that your behaviour is accepted as good – you did exactly what you thought was right. Is this correct, Carrig?”
“Yes, sir.”
“The young boy, Jimmy, will be examined by a doctor, and the results will be read out to the jury at the trial of Mr and Mrs Wright. In the meantime they will remain in custody. Now, Carrig, we have to ask you to tell us, in your own words, what you think about Mr and Mrs McMaster, with whom you have been staying.”
“I love them both. They will be my friends for the rest of my life. They took me in and couldn’t do enough for me. They fed me and allowed me to work in their garden, which I really enjoyed. It was in such a mess when I got there! I just cleared it up a bit – there’s more work to do yet. You see, officer, they are very badly in need of help. He’s half blind and a bit deaf, and she’s suffering from arthritis very badly, and if I hadn’t turned up when I did I don’t know what they’d have done. It was cold and they needed a fire. I watched him trying to chop the wood, and he was missing the blocks – he couldn’t see what he was doing.”
“Right then, Carrig, thank you for that. We’ll see young Jimmy now, if you’ll send him in.”
The wee lad sat down and the Inspector spoke kindly to him: “Now, Jimmy, we know what’s been going on between Mr Wright and yourself. Can you tell us, please, in your own time, how long the bad behaviour has been going on?”
“When I came here first I wasn’t very good at maths, and he gave me lessons.”
“Was that after school, Jimmy?”
“Yes, after dinner time.”
“Every night after dinner?”
“No, not every night.”
“Would you say two nights a week?”
“Yes, at first, and then four nights.”
“Why do you think he changed to four nights?”
“Well, I was getting better at maths, and he – he . . .” At this point the boy looked down at the floor and began to cry. Then Jimmy rose to his feet and, in a flurry of anger, said, “I hate him, I hate him! I never want to see him again. I hope he goes to prison for ever.”
The young sergeant moved over to Jimmy and put his arm around him. “It’s OK, Jimmy, you did well.”
The Inspector butted in and said, “Yes, Jimmy, we’re so proud of you for telling us the truth. Thank you for that. There’s no need to worry any more – this man will be put away for some time, and you can get on with your life. Thank you again, Jimmy.”
The young sergeant went towards the kitchen and asked Elsie if they could now interview the McMasters.
“Certainly. I’ll just show them to the office.”
The wee couple entered the room and sat down opposite the two policemen.
“Good afternoon.” The Inspector spoke to the elderly couple.
“Good afternoon.”
“Now, you will understand that we all find ourselves in an unusual situation here.”
“Yes.” They both spoke quietly.
“Please understand that what I’m about to say is just a matter of procedure. I have to read you this statement, but you understand it is not meant to alarm you in any way. Just listen until I have finished. Your correct names are Mr and Mrs McMaster.”
“Yes, John and Sarah – that’s correct.”
“You have, in fact, committed a crime in harbouring a young boy while he was on the run from Erindale Boys’ Home.”
Sarah put her hand over her mouth and gave a sigh. “Oh dear,” she said quietly.
“However, your reason for doing it is more than acceptable; we applaud you for trusting the young man and caring for him while he was with you.”
Sarah spoke up and asked the Inspector if Carrig could live with them.
“I don’t see any difficulty in that, Mrs McMaster. This young man is now sixteen years old, and, from what I have heard of him, more than capable of making up his own mind where he lives. So yes, provided he is happy to live with you both, and you are happy to have him to live with you, then there shouldn’t be any difficulties. I wish you both well for the future. Thank you both for your time.” He shook their hands and left the room.
After the policemen had gone, Elsie, Carrig, Jimmy and Mr and Mrs McMaster spent a while together.
Sarah could hardly contain herself. She burst out with “Carrig, you’re ours – you’re our grandson – the grandson we never had.”
Elsie stood with her mouth open, watching them all together.
“I’m so happy that things worked out for all of you. You all deserve the best, and that’s what you’ve got.”
Carrig stood with his arms around Jimmy’s shoulders. “And this wee runt – don’t forget him. He’s part of the family too. You can be my brother, Jimmy.”
“That will do.” The young boy stood beside them all with a smile like a Cheshire cat. “Brother – yeah, that’ll do.”
John came back from his walk to the village and handed Carrig the only letter they had given him at the local shop, which acted as an agency for the post office.
“There ye are, young man – a letter to yer new home. First one too!”
The letter was from the counsellor at the hospital, asking Carrig to accompany Jimmy to have his first counselling appointment.
“Would you two like to come with me, and then I can drive the car?”
“Oh, that would be great, Carrig. The missus will enjoy a day out, especially since it is such a long time since she’s been in Christchurch. I can’t remember when the last time was. When did ye say the appointment was?”
“Ten o’clock on the 24th. That’s next Friday.”
“And where do we have to go to?”
“The Christchurch Hospital, and ask at the front desk.”
“Well, we had better be away before nine o’clock.”
Sarah quickly marked it on the calendar on the wall, behind the dining-room table.
“Just so we won’t forget.”
Carrig hugged her again, and John too.
“Away on with ye! I’ll be getting all soppy, like a woman.”
Carrig laughed with gusto. The boy was brimming with happiness. It was so good to see him laugh again, Sarah thought to herself.
“Give me all yer dirty clothes fer washing, Carrig.”
He went upstairs and brought down all he could find. The washing machine was pretty full when he added the powder and pressed the starter button.
“I remember what I have to do today: I must ring Wally and Mrs Watson.”
Wally was overjoyed to hear that all had gone well and that John and Sarah had taken it upon themselves to adopt Carrig as their own.
“I can’t believe it,” old Wally said. “Ye’d better treat them right, my boy, or you’ll have me to answer to.”
“Oh, I will – I will do that. When can we meet up again, Wally?”
“What about next week, say Wednesday or Thursday? We can come over to your place, if you like. I’ll bring lunch, if that’s all right with Mrs Watson.”
Carrig Of Dromara Page 18