Edie's Home for Orphans

by Gracie Taylor

  Edgar gave another excited squeak and dropped to his knees by the kittens, who immediately began exploring him. Princess’s babies had been far too thoroughly spoiled at Applefield Manor to have any fear of humans.

  Andrew took a seat on the couch opposite Prue with a satisfied smile. His wife sat down beside him, her expression black at having lost a battle of wills with her mild-mannered husband.

  ‘Why on earth have you started wearing your hair in that juvenile manner, Prue?’ Patricia demanded waspishly.

  Prue knew her so-called friend was trying to provoke her and refused to take the bait. She reached up to pat her hair.

  ‘The children have forbidden me from having it any other way since they saw it loose. They say it makes me look less stern.’

  ‘I think it’s very becoming,’ Andrew said gallantly. ‘You look ten years younger, Prudence.’ His wife shot him a disgusted look.

  Prue smiled at him. ‘Thank you, Andrew. You’re always such a gentleman. Were you able to make those enquiries for me?’

  ‘I was.’ Andrew took a piece of paper from his pocket. ‘I have a letter here from a clergyman friend who works with the Waifs and Strays Society in London. He paid a visit to the Cawthras’ home at my request and it seems the children haven’t exaggerated, although the lady in question denied any mistreatment, of course.’

  Prue nodded soberly. She knew that as a clergyman, Andrew would be able to get the facts with greater ease than if she made enquiries herself. That was why she had asked him to look into Aggie and Jimmy’s situation, and to find out what could be done on their behalf.

  ‘She couldn’t deny having starved them, surely,’ Prue said. ‘They were like scarecrows when they arrived here.’

  ‘She defends herself with the usual excuses – poverty, time of war, very little to go around, et cetera. However, my friend seems to suggest the woman is an incurable drunk, frittering away what little money she receives on black-market whisky. She appeared to be mostly skin and bones.’ He sighed as he put the letter away. ‘She is to be pitied too, I suppose. The poor wretch sounds to have been in a very sorry state. There was a man present who may have … some rough handling, I believe.’

  ‘What of Jimmy and Aggie?’ Prue said. ‘I couldn’t bear to send them back there to be beaten and brutalised by these people.’

  ‘It sounds as though they couldn’t go back even if they wanted to. Their, er … their stepmother’s gentleman friend was adamant they wouldn’t be allowed to return.’

  ‘Have they no other relatives?’

  ‘None who could afford to provide for them.’

  ‘Then it would have to be an orphanage,’ Prue said, bowing her head. ‘The poor loves. Still, they’d be fed and cared for, at least.’

  Andrew nodded. ‘I’m hopeful places can be found at one of the institutions in their local area. I’m going to write to the authorities and ask what arrangements could be made. Hopefully there’ll be no need for them to be separated.’

  Prue frowned. ‘That isn’t a possibility, is it?’

  ‘I’m afraid so. Places are scarce these days – the war has made too many orphans.’

  ‘Oh, no.’ Prue thought of Jimmy, shy and silent, clutching his sister’s hand. Aggie, fiercely protective, determined to keep her little brother safe at all costs … ‘No, Andrew, that can’t be allowed to happen. The children would be devastated. You must tell the authorities it shouldn’t be considered.’

  ‘I don’t think I have any say in the matter,’ Andrew said. ‘Nevertheless, I’ll make your views clear.’

  ‘Thank you. And please inform them that there’s no hurry. The children are welcome to stay here for as long as they have nowhere else to go, war or not.’

  Andrew smiled warmly. ‘You’re a good woman, Prudence. We could do with a few more like you in Applefield.’

  Patricia cleared her throat. ‘Can we please discuss the treat day now? I don’t want to be late for this evening’s WI meeting.’

  ‘There’s plenty of time yet, my dear,’ Andrew said in his tranquil way, and Prue wondered again however two such opposite characters managed to rub along together.

  ‘I’d like to arrange it for Sunday, 13 July if possible,’ Prue said. ‘My boy will be home on leave then.’

  ‘Oh, how lovely. Well, I think that will be enough time to plan, don’t you, Patricia?’

  Patricia looked as though she was straining to think of some sort of objection, but, unable to do so, she nodded grudgingly.

  ‘What will we have on the day?’ Andrew said.

  ‘The Women’s Institute must do something,’ Patricia said. ‘Clara Jenkins suggested we sell cakes and run a ring-toss game for the children.’

  ‘I’d like to have some fairground rides,’ Prue said. ‘A merry-go-round and swingboats, and perhaps a helter-skelter. I’ll cover the costs involved myself. Edie suggests we ask the Kirkton Town Band to play for us. And I should like a coconut shy, and tin can alley, and hook-a-duck. They were great favourites in years gone by. There must be a tombola and a raffle of some sort for the adults, and I shall have a stall to sell some of our jams and pickles.’

  Patricia nodded, scribbling in her notebook. This sort of planning was what she excelled at, and she looked almost happy at the prospect of organising everything. ‘I’ll appeal for volunteers at tonight’s WI meeting, and Andrew, I’m sure you can make an announcement in church on Sunday.’

  Andrew laughed. ‘You make our temporary chapel in the Boy Scouts’ hut sound very grand when you call it a church, my dear. Yes, of course.’

  ‘Oh yes, that’s the other matter I wanted to bring up,’ Prue said. ‘I hope we shall raise a little money for good causes. Edie suggested the Spitfire Fund, and I agree we ought to make some donation to the war effort, but I’d like a portion of the profits to go to the church roof repair fund. Charity begins at home, after all.’

  Andrew smiled. ‘That’s very kind. Thank you.’

  ‘I don’t know when you became so public-spirited, Prue,’ Patricia said.

  Prue shrugged. ‘It felt like time I started.’

  There was a tentative knock at the sitting room door, and Prue called for whoever it was to come in. Tilly appeared, Baby Samantha in her arms.

  ‘I thought I heard Uncle Andrew,’ she said. ‘Sorry to interrupt, Prue. I wanted to bring Sammie to meet the family while they were here.’

  She was smiling, but she looked nervous. Prue knew this was the first time she had seen her aunt and uncle since the baby had been born.

  ‘Are you sure you ought to be up, Matilda?’ she asked.

  ‘I’m perfectly all right. Dr MacKenzie fusses too much.’

  She looked pale, however, and Andrew stood up to offer her his seat. Patricia curled her lip at the baby and shuffled along the couch.

  ‘So this is our little grand-niece,’ Andrew said softly, leaning over Tilly to look at the baby. ‘May I, Matilda?’

  She smiled. ‘Be my guest.’

  Patricia’s face was like thunder.

  ‘Andrew, you will not hold that baby,’ she snapped. ‘That … that illegitimate baby.’

  Andrew frowned at her. ‘You forget, Patricia, that I will shortly be baptising this baby. No child is illegitimate in the eyes of the heavenly father – or in mine.’ He smiled at Samantha. ‘Besides which, she’s family.’

  ‘I forbid it, Andrew. I absolutely forbid it. Do you hear me?’

  ‘Yes, Patricia. I hear you perfectly well.’ He took the child from Tilly and touched a finger to her nose. She opened her gummy little mouth and gurgled happily.

  ‘Well if that’s how you feel, then I shall wait outside. With your grandson,’ Patricia snapped. She dragged Edgar reluctantly away from the kittens, and, without a backwards glance, marched out of the room.

  ‘Well done, Andrew,’ Prue said quietly.

  ‘I let her have her way most of the time, but very occasionally I have to put my foot down.’ He turned to Tilly. ‘You must forgi
ve your aunt, my dear. She was raised in a time when things were … well, rather different. She does care for you and the baby.’

  Tilly sighed. ‘I wish I could believe that, Uncle.’

  ‘Well, well, she’ll come around. Patricia’s a good woman – too good, I think, sometimes.’ He looked down at Samantha. ‘My word, what a fine complexion she has! And all that dark hair. What did you say her name was, Matilda?’

  ‘Samantha.’

  ‘Ah.’ Andrew looked embarrassed, but he quickly recovered. He planted a kiss on the baby’s head and handed her back. ‘Well, Samantha Liddell, welcome to the family. I hope I’ll be seeing you in church soon.’

  ‘Hopefully in one with a roof,’ Prue said with a smile.

  Chapter 31

  Edie was ladling the jam into jars when Prue joined her in the kitchen.

  ‘Are the children not here?’ Prue asked.

  ‘No, I sent them out to feed the chicks. There’d be as much jam on the table as in the jars if I let Aggie loose with the ladle.’ Edie looked up from what she was doing. ‘You’ll never guess what happened.’

  ‘Did Jimmy speak to you?’

  Edie blinked in surprise. ‘Well, yes, he did. How did you know?’

  ‘He spoke to me too.’ Prue smiled. ‘I believe it was excitement about the treat day that finally broke through. He must have decided he could trust us at last.’

  ‘I thought I had such a lovely surprise for you,’ Edie said, smiling too. ‘Still, I suppose it would be you he spoke to first.’

  ‘Why do you say that, dear?’

  ‘Just something I’ve noticed when the two of them are around you,’ Edie said, continuing her ladling. ‘I don’t know how to describe it. It’s as if when they’re with you, they feel sort of … protected. Ever since the air raid.’

  Prue blinked. ‘Do you really think so?’

  Edie nodded. ‘Coco has something to do with it, I think. The way you put yourself in danger to save him from the bombs, just as you kept the children safe, and Tilly and Samantha – well, all of us, really.’ She looked up to smile. ‘You’re the heart of Applefield Manor to us, Prue. I hope you know that.’

  Prue didn’t know what to say. She turned away to hide her emotion. For so long she’d thought of Applefield Manor as belonging to Albert and his parents, even now when all three were long dead. Somehow, hearing those words brought a tear to her eye.

  ‘I … thank you,’ she murmured. ‘That’s very kind.’

  Edie, seeming to sense Prue’s embarrassment, merely nodded before changing the subject. ‘Are Mr and Mrs Featherstone gone?’

  ‘Yes. There was a rather unpleasant scene actually.’

  Edie looked alarmed. ‘Why, what happened?’

  ‘Patricia happened, as usual,’ Prue said, sinking into a seat. ‘She marched out when Andrew insisted on holding the baby. Poor Matilda was so upset.’

  ‘I don’t wonder.’

  ‘Andrew was lovely, of course, like the good Christian he is. But Patty wouldn’t even look at Samantha.’ She shook her head darkly. ‘How anyone can sit in judgement on a blameless little baby I have no idea.’

  ‘Honestly, that woman!’ Edie said, scowling. ‘I don’t think she has an ounce of compassion in her, for all her so-called good works. I’m jolly glad she isn’t my aunt.’

  Prue sighed. ‘Goodness knows how she’s going to react when she discovers the truth. She’ll never recognise Matilda’s marriage, of course. And when she knows Samantha’s father is an enemy prisoner …’

  ‘I’d say it was none of her business.’

  ‘But Matilda will be hurt by it. For her sake, I do wish Patricia didn’t have to be quite so … Patricia.’

  ‘She didn’t try to throw cold water on the treat day, I hope.’

  ‘Oh no, she was all for it,’ Prue said, smiling. ‘Patty may be difficult, but she’s a born organiser. In that respect alone, the village is lucky to have her.’

  ‘Hmm.’ Edie wasn’t convinced Patricia Featherstone’s skill as an event organiser made up for her shortcomings as a human being, but at least the treat day was still going ahead. ‘What about the children? Was Andrew able to find out more about this Bet person?’

  ‘Yes, and it seems she’s quite as bad as Aggie described,’ Prue said, curling her lip. ‘What’s more, she’s taken up with a man who knocks her about. I’m sorry, but I refuse to send the children back to a household like that. Andrew is going to find out if an institution would have places for them.’

  ‘Institution?’ Edie said, frowning. ‘You mean an orphanage?’

  ‘Yes, that’s right.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘I don’t think you need be concerned, Edie,’ Prue said. ‘I know the word “orphanage” tends to conjure images of brutal Victorian workhouses, but in this day and age the reality is far removed from that. The children will be fed and cared for, and provided with a good education, in much better conditions than before.’

  Edie thought of the evacuees, each their own unique little self. They’d blossomed under the care and attention they’d been shown at Applefield Manor. Perhaps an orphanage might provide for their bodily needs, but what of their emotional ones? Children needed love to grow, just as much as food and drink.

  ‘Still, to be one face among many. It’s no way to grow up,’ Edie said. ‘I wish there was another way, Prue.’

  ‘No. It isn’t ideal, is it?’ Prue said, sighing. ‘Andrew believes the authorities might try to separate them. If there aren’t enough places to keep them together.’

  ‘What? No! They couldn’t do that, could they?’

  ‘I presume they could, if they had to. Let’s hope it won’t be necessary.’ She frowned as the doorbell sounded. ‘Now, who can that be? Surely Patricia hasn’t left something behind.’

  She went to answer it. Edie, curious as to who was calling – unexpected visitors were a rarity at Applefield Manor – put down her ladle and followed.

  ‘Hello,’ she heard a jolly, familiar voice saying as Prue opened the door. ‘I hope I’m in the right place. I’m looking for Edie Cartwright.’

  ‘Oh my goodness!’ Edie said. Prue stood aside, looking puzzled, as Edie launched herself at the visitor for a hug. ‘Sue! What on earth are you doing here?’

  ‘Darling, didn’t you get my letter?’ Susan said, laughing as she squeezed her friend tight. ‘I got a spot of leave and thought I’d pay you a visit.’

  ‘No, I never had a word! I suppose it’s at the bottom of a mail sack somewhere. The post here isn’t the most reliable.’

  Edie stood back to look at her friend. She was as beautiful as ever, clad in her ATS jacket and breeches. An army motorcycle was parked on the gravel behind her.

  ‘Oh gosh, I’m sorry,’ Edie said, turning to Prue. ‘Prue, this is Susan Hume, my oldest friend. We grew up together in London. Sue, this is my landlady, Mrs Prudence Hewitt.’

  ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs Hewitt,’ Susan said, holding out her hand. ‘Edie talks about you all the time in her letters.’

  ‘She doesn’t tell you anything too awful, I hope,’ Prue said, smiling as she shook the proffered hand. ‘Do come in, dear. Edie, I think you’ve earned an hour’s holiday if you’d like to finish work early today. Why don’t you and your friend go into the sitting room? I’ll just finish ladling out the jam then I’ll bring you in some tea. I managed to save the last of the leaves from Patricia.’

  ‘Thank you, that’s very kind,’ Edie said, pressing Prue’s shoulder.

  She hooked her arm through her friend’s and guided her to the sitting room.

  ‘So that’s the terrifying old dragon you wrote me about, is it?’ Susan said in a low voice when they were both seated on the couch. ‘Edie, she’s adorable.’

  Edie smiled. ‘Well, I’m not too proud to admit that I was wrong about her. She is a dear, once you break through her reserve.’ She glanced at the kittens play-fighting by the fire. ‘Mind you, you have to know how to handle her. O
ne wrong move and she can close up like an oyster.’

  Susan reached down to pick up a kitten. ‘And I suppose these are poor Princess’s babies.’ She held the kitten up to her face and it blinked at her comically. ‘Well, hello there, little one. I’ve heard all about you.’

  Edie laughed as Susan rubbed noses with the kitten and put it back with its siblings. Susan and Alfie had been told so much about Applefield Manor and its residents, they were almost as familiar with the place as Edie herself.

  Prue came in with the tea – she’d used the nice cups they saved for company, Edie noticed – and put the tray down on the table.

  ‘Will you join us?’ Edie asked.

  ‘Oh, no, you don’t want me eavesdropping on your gossip,’ Prue said. ‘You girls have a good natter. I’ll keep the children out of your way.’

  ‘She’s a lot younger and prettier than I expected,’ Susan whispered when Prue had gone. ‘From your letters, I was picturing someone like your Aunt Caroline.’

  ‘She seems younger nowadays,’ Edie said as she poured their tea. ‘I thought it was just that she’d changed her hairstyle, but generally she seems fresher, somehow.’ She paused, trying to put her finger on what was different about Prue. ‘I think it’s because she’s happier.’

  ‘She seems fond of you.’

  ‘Well, I’ve grown fond of her too – of all of them, here and at the farm.’ Edie handed Susan a teacup on a delicate china saucer. ‘You know, I wasn’t sure when I arrived if I was going to fit in here. I was dreadfully homesick the first week or so. If it hadn’t been for Tilly, I’m not sure I wouldn’t have been on the train back to London after a fortnight.’

  ‘Ah, yes. Your new best friend,’ Susan said, pursing her lips.

  Edie smiled. ‘Come on, don’t be daft. You’ll love her, and the baby’s just darling. We’ll go up and see them after our tea. And you must meet Jack and the children too, and all the animals.’ She gave her friend’s arm a squeeze. ‘Honestly, you’re a sight for sore eyes. I’ve missed you to pieces.’

  ‘I’ve missed you too,’ Susan said, smiling. ‘I’d love to meet them all, Edie. Even though I do feel like I know them already.’ Edie knew her friend was too good-natured to ever be truly jealous.