Edie's Home for Orphans

by Gracie Taylor

  Not knowing what else to do, Prue fell to her knees beside the little puppy and offered up a desperate prayer.

  ‘Please, if Bertie is alive, keep him safe for me,’ she whispered. ‘Please, God, keep them all safe.’

  When Edie came downstairs early the following morning, she found Prue on the couch with the little puppy sleeping in her arms, and she knew her plan had worked.

  ‘Edie,’ Prue whispered as she awoke. ‘Oh, my dear, I’m so sorry. So sorry.’

  Edie went to sit beside her.

  ‘Where did this little chap come from?’ she asked, reaching over to stroke the puppy. It wagged its tail sleepily.

  ‘I found her in the porch half frozen, the poor thing.’ Prue took Edie’s hand. ‘Sweetheart, please forgive me. I didn’t mean a word of those dreadful things I said to you.’

  ‘I know you didn’t. You were grieving. Please, Prue, don’t think any more about it.’

  ‘I was so angry,’ Prue murmured. ‘Angry at the unfairness of it all, and I took it all out on you and the children. And poor, poor Jack, who’s never said a hard word to me in forty years. I’m a bitter, ungrateful old lady and I don’t deserve any of you.’

  ‘Don’t say that. People do and say things they don’t mean when they’re in pain. I know that’s not who you are.’ Edie took the puppy on to her own lap and tickled her between her ears. ‘And so does this little lady.’

  A couple of pale faces peeped around the door.

  ‘Oh, children,’ Prue said, summoning a weak smile for them. ‘Now, come here and hug your Aunty Prue, if you still care to after she was such a crotchety old thing.’

  Aggie hesitated, but Jimmy ran straight to Prue and threw himself into her arms. A tear slid down her cheek.

  ‘I’ve lost one little boy, but I still have this one,’ she whispered. ‘I’m sorry, my darling. You must have been so frightened and upset.’

  ‘I was upset ’cause you were sad,’ Jimmy muttered. ‘I didn’t like you being sad.’

  Overcoming her initial wariness, Aggie tiptoed in too and climbed on to Prue’s knee beside her brother.

  ‘Do you hate me very much, Aggie?’ Prue asked softly, stroking the little girl’s hair.

  ‘No. I know when you feel like that. When our dad died, I was always getting done for fighting. I suppose this is a bit sort of the same.’ Aggie snuggled into her. ‘I’m sorry your son’s missing, Aunty Prue. You won’t send us away, will you?’

  ‘No, my dear. I told you before, Applefield Manor is your home, always. No matter how much of a crosspatch I might be sometimes, nothing will ever change that.’ She glanced at Edie. ‘For any of my children.’

  Edie smiled and patted her shoulder.

  ‘An’ Coco can stay, can’t he?’ Jimmy asked, looking up at Prue. ‘An’ the kittens an’ Betty an’ all the other animals?’

  ‘Yes, dear, everyone can stay. I’m not going to lose anyone else I care about; I’m keeping them all right here, safe with me.’ She looked at Edie. ‘Where are the animals?’

  ‘In the stables,’ Edie said. ‘We thought we’d better put them out of sight until you felt better.’

  Prue gave the two children a big squeeze. ‘Oh, you wonderful little darlings. I believe you’ve saved me, all of you. I feel I’d be quite desperate now without you. I’m so sorry I shouted.’

  ‘Have you seen Jack yet?’ Edie asked. ‘He looked ever so hurt, Prue.’

  Prue bowed her head. ‘Not yet. I hope he can forgive me. I said some awful things to him, didn’t I?’

  ‘Why don’t you go to him now?’

  ‘Yes.’ Prue took a deep breath. ‘Yes, I must. Excuse me, children.’

  As Prue climbed the stairs to Jack’s room, she wondered what she would say to him. Could he forgive her for her cruel words? She needed him now … oh, so badly. She’d been a fool to push him away at a time like this. And of course, he would be grieving too. He had been almost a second father to Bertie. Wrapped up in her own pain, Prue had never spared a thought for how he must be suffering.

  ‘Jack?’ she whispered, knocking gently on his bedroom door.

  There was no reply, so she tried again, a little louder.

  ‘Jack? It’s Cheggy, dear. Please let me in so we can talk.’

  Again, no answer. Hesitantly, Prue pushed open the door.

  The cupboard was open, ransacked of clothes. The leather case Jack used on the rare occasions he went travelling, which usually sat at the foot of the bed, was gone.

  And so was Jack.

  Chapter 39

  ‘Ladies, see to the chickens, please. Make sure you bait the rat traps.’

  Vinnie nodded. ‘Yes, boss.’

  ‘Marco, you can do the feeds. Davy, you’re with me fixing that top wall,’ Sam said. ‘Luca, you and London take the truck down to Kirkton. The feed needs picking up, and there’s a couple of bottles of foot rot ointment to be fetched from the veterinary’s.’

  Luca saluted. ‘Yes, Sam.’

  ‘London?’ Sam said when Edie didn’t acknowledge him. ‘Did you hear that?’

  ‘Oh.’ Edie summoned a wan smile. ‘Yes. Sorry.’

  He frowned. ‘You all right, are you? You’re white as a corpse.’

  ‘I’ve not been getting much sleep.’

  ‘Then go to bed earlier. I expect you to be ready to do a day’s work when you get here.’ He regarded her, and his expression softened. ‘Not ailing for owt, are you, lass?’

  ‘I’ll be OK.’

  He was silent for a moment, looking into her face.

  ‘Well, perhaps you’d better stay here if you’re badly,’ he said. ‘Davy, you go with Luca.’

  That was the first time Sam had picked her to work alone with him since before his proposal, over a month ago now, but it wasn’t like it had been before. He showed no sign of wanting to make conversation while they worked, which suited Edie fine. She was in no mood for small talk.

  After working in silence for over an hour, Sam spoke.

  ‘All right up at yours, are you?’ he demanded gruffly. ‘I heard about Prue’s boy.’

  ‘She’s been very upset, but the children are a comfort to her.’

  ‘Well, it’s a shame. Bertie Hewitt was a grand lad. Tell her I’m sorry, and if she needs owt she only has to ask.’

  ‘Thank you. I’m sure she’ll appreciate that.’

  ‘Is there any hope?’

  Edie bowed her head. ‘It doesn’t look that way. The letter Prue got said his ship went down. Some men were rescued, but the missing crew are feared drowned.’ Her eyes started to fill. ‘Poor Prue. She … she’s really been having a difficult time.’

  Unable to hold it back, she burst into tears.

  ‘Hey,’ Sam said gently. ‘What’s this?’

  ‘Sam, it’s horrible,’ she whispered. ‘Everything’s just awful. Prue’s in so much pain, and Jack’s gone –’

  ‘Jack Graham? Where’s he gone?’

  ‘That’s just it: no one knows. Andrew Featherstone heard he was seen boarding the early train from Kirkton to London, and we haven’t had a word since. Prue’s worried sick about him.’

  ‘Why would he just go like that? Last I heard, the pair of them were planning on getting hitched up.’

  ‘They had an argument. She was upset when she got the telegram, and she … said some hurtful things to him. Now Prue’s lost the two people she loves most, the children are in tears all the time for worrying about Jack … I don’t know what to do, Sam. I feel utterly helpless.’

  ‘Sometimes there isn’t anything you can do.’ His face relaxed into a smile. ‘Still trying to save everyone, eh, London?’

  She smiled through her tears. ‘I know, I can’t help myself. I just wish there was some way I could help.’

  ‘Well, you won’t be much use to them if you’re making yourself ill with worry.’

  ‘I suppose not.’ She looked up, and, in spite of everything, felt a surge of happiness at seeing the black scowl that had become
his habitual expression in her presence lift.

  ‘Sam …’ she whispered. ‘Will you hold me? I’d really like to be held, just for a moment.’

  ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea, do you?’ he said, and the scowl reappeared.

  ‘Don’t you want to?’

  ‘Maybe I do, but I’m assuming your fiancé won’t be keen.’

  She frowned. ‘My what?’

  ‘Or your sweetheart then. The young soldier.’

  ‘I don’t know any …’ She blinked. ‘You can’t mean Alfie?’

  ‘Tanned bloke, blond hair, handsome?’

  ‘Yes, that’s him.’ She stared at him. ‘So that’s why! All this time, you’ve been sulking because you thought Alfie and I were lovers?’

  ‘You expect me to believe you’re just good friends, do you? I saw you two kissing and cuddling outside the farmhouse.’ He turned away. ‘Well, I’ve no right to be jealous. You were never my girl. I was a fool to think you might want to be when you had so many better offers.’

  Edie laughed, shaking her head. ‘Sam, you … you ridiculous bloody man!’

  ‘Look, let’s just get back to work.’

  She reached out to turn his face back towards her.

  ‘Sam, Alfie Hume is one of my oldest, dearest friends,’ she said gently. ‘And that, I promise you, is all.’

  ‘Come on, Edie. I might not have much experience of love, but I do know what it looks like. You’re not seriously telling me he doesn’t have those feelings for you?’

  She bowed her head. ‘No, he does. He asked me to be his wife, in fact, that same day. But I said no.’

  ‘You what?’

  ‘I said no because Alfie was too much like a brother to me for me to ever see him as anything else. And because …’ She looked up at him. ‘… because I was in love with someone else.’

  Sam stared at her.

  ‘Edie,’ he whispered. ‘Is that really how things are?’

  ‘It is. So you see, you’ve been stomping about in a foul temper all these weeks for no reason at all, you big idiot. Now are you going to hold me or aren’t you?’

  Laughing, he folded his arms around her and planted a soft kiss on her lips.

  ‘You know, London, you were right about me. I am an arse.’

  Edie smiled. ‘I’d forgotten about that. You were right too though. I was a bit of a prig back then, wasn’t I?’

  ‘I’m not sure that isn’t the moment I fell in love with you. I’d never been insulted so sweetly before.’

  Edie stared up at him.

  ‘Sam,’ she whispered. ‘What did you say?’

  ‘I reckon you heard me well enough, but since there’s no one to hear me making a fool of myself but you and the Herdies then I don’t mind repeating it.’ He planted another gentle kiss on her lips. ‘I love you, and I’m sorry. Sorry I nearly sabotaged my own happiness and yours by being a jealous pig. Can you forgive me?’

  She stroked gentle fingertips over his cheek. ‘Oh, I think I can, in time. Certainly before the wedding.’

  ‘Sweetheart, really?’ he whispered. ‘You’ll have me then?’

  ‘I will.’ She kissed him again. ‘I tried my best, but you’re a hard man to stop being in love with, Sam Nicholson.’

  Prue was washing dishes when Edie arrived home. Molly, the orphan pup she’d nursed, was sitting at her heel. Since the night Prue had saved her from the porch, the little dog had refused to leave her side.

  ‘I gave Tilly the afternoon off to take the children to the lake,’ Prue said. ‘They can play at catching minnows with those nets Jack made for them. The poor loves need some fun.’

  ‘Any news?’ It was a ritual, now, that Edie would ask this question whenever she arrived home.

  Prue shook her head. ‘No word from Jack, or anything more about Bertie.’

  She burst into tears, and Edie wrapped her in a hug. The tears seemed to come at the strangest times. Just when Prue thought she was starting to adjust to this new world without Bertie or Jack, the truth would hit her again like a great, crashing wave, and there was no holding back the flood.

  ‘We’ll find Jack,’ Edie whispered. ‘He must be somewhere.’

  ‘But there’s no guarantee he’ll come home if we do find him. I must have hurt him terribly for him to leave like that without a word.’ Prue sighed as she sank into a chair. ‘Edie, what if he has one of his attacks, out there alone? He might hurt someone … or himself.’

  ‘Have you any idea who he might go to? Family or friends?’

  ‘No family he’s close to. Some old army friends, but I don’t know their names.’

  ‘You must know his regiment, though, and the dates and places he served. Do you?’

  ‘I could find out. The details are all in the letters he wrote to Albert and me.’ She wiped her eyes, feeling the kindling of something like hope. ‘Do you think we might be able to find him that way?’

  ‘It’s worth a try.’ The girl blushed. ‘Perhaps Sam might be able to help. He’s clever about finding out things like that.’

  Prue raised her eyebrows. ‘You’re not telling me you spoke to that boy at last?’

  Edie smiled shyly. ‘Yes, we made it up. He’d got the wrong idea about Alfie and me, the silly man.’

  ‘Are you engaged then?’

  ‘We seem to be. Although I still don’t have a ring, and there was no actual proposal as such.’ She laughed. ‘I think Sam must be an expert in proposing all the wrong way. But I don’t care. He loves me, Prue; he told me so.’

  ‘Oh, I am glad, dear. I’ve hated seeing you unhappy. I knew there’d be some foolish misunderstanding behind him withdrawing his attentions.’

  ‘I ought to have known it would be something like that. He never was one for talking about things.’ Edie sighed. ‘It would all be perfect if things weren’t so awful here. I’m sorry, Prue. It feels horribly selfish of me to be happy about anything right now, with Jack goodness knows where and Bertie –’

  The doorbell rang. Prue dabbed her eyes dry and stood up to answer it.

  ‘Are you expecting anyone?’ Edie asked.

  ‘Yes, Patricia. I asked to speak with her about the treat day. She’s assuming I’ll want to cancel, but it seems a shame when everyone’s worked so hard. I won’t be in any sort of mood for attending a party, but there’s no reason it can’t still be held in the grounds.’

  But when Prue opened the door, she discovered it wasn’t Patricia standing on the step. She nearly fainted when she saw who was filling the doorframe: his face rough with a full beard, looking tired and careworn, but with a smile on his face.

  ‘Well, I’m home,’ Jack said. ‘Always seem to find myself back here, don’t I?’

  ‘Jack!’ she gasped, falling on his neck. ‘Oh, you stupid, stupid, wonderful man, where on earth have you been? I thought … I thought you’d left me.’

  He wrapped his arms around her. ‘Couldn’t keep away, Cheg.’

  ‘Do you know how worried I’ve been? What possessed you to disappear without a word like that?’

  ‘Seemed you didn’t want me here no more.’

  ‘Oh, I said some awful things, I know, but I didn’t mean them. I love you, you silly old man. Everything I said that night … I was so upset about Bertie, I didn’t know what I was saying. When I thought I’d driven you away, do you know how that tore me apart? Where did you go?’

  ‘To visit an old comrade. He was our chaplain – good man, and a good friend. He’s attached to a military hospital down on the south-east coast now.’ He freed himself from her arms. ‘Which reminds me. Picked you up a little souvenir from the seaside.’

  Prue frowned. ‘A souvenir?’

  ‘Just a moment and I’ll fetch it. Better than a stick of rock, I promise.’

  There was a long black car parked behind him on the drive. Jack opened the back door and gave his hand to a thin young man in a naval officer’s uniform, who walked with the aid of a crutch. His left trouser leg was pinned up: emp
ty below the knee.

  Prue gripped the doorframe.

  ‘Oh,’ she whispered. ‘Oh my goodness. Oh my goodness!’

  Bertie smiled shyly as Jack supported him to the door. ‘Hello, Mother.’

  ‘But, Jack, wherever did you find him?’ Prue asked when the tears and embraces had subsided – not before some time had elapsed – and Edie had brought the reunited family a pot of tea. There was no time of triumph or tribulation that the British didn’t face with a hot cup of tea in their hands.

  Bertie was sitting at his mother’s side with little Molly on his lap. Every once in a while Prue reached out to press his shoulder, as if to reassure herself he was really there.

  ‘Like I said, I went to stay with an old army friend, Tom Little, in Brighton,’ Jack said as he lit his pipe. ‘He was our chaplain, and I knew there was no better man to go to when you had a bit of soul-ache.’

  Prue winced. ‘I really am so sorry, Jack.’

  ‘Well, mappen it was divine providence in the end,’ he said, smiling at Bertie. ‘Tom’s chaplain at a field hospital there, and he asked me to go along with him to see a lad who’s been suffering from the night terrors since Dunkirk. Thought it might do him some good to talk to an old soldier who understood what he was going through. And who should I spot further down the ward but young Bertie?’

  ‘I was still unconscious then, an anonymous casualty fished out of the drink by a trawler,’ Bertie told his mother. ‘When I came round, the nurses told me Uncle Jack had been in every day, watching over me. Well, he always did, you know, Mother. I didn’t know it was him, of course, till he came again – the nurses said there was an old soldier who liked to sit by me, but I had no idea it was my old soldier.’

  Jack reached over to pat the boy fondly on the shoulder.

  ‘I’m sorry, Cheg,’ he said softly. ‘I would have written, but the doctor told me … it wasn’t certain, then, that he’d wake up. I didn’t want to give you any false hopes.’

  ‘But it’s all right now,’ Bertie said, putting an arm around Prue’s shoulders. ‘The quacks say I’m out of the woods and safe to come home. The war’s over for Midshipman Albert John Hewitt, I’m afraid to say.’

  ‘Darling, I’m so … it’s just the most wonderful thing. God must have heard my prayer that night, after I got that dreadful telegram.’ She glanced down. ‘Oh, but Bertie, your leg.’