Orphans and Angels

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Orphans and Angels Page 2

by Linda Finlay


  ‘That new boy’s duffing him up,’ Kitty added. Being a few years older and much tougher, there was nothing she liked more than a bit of action to liven up the day. ‘Coo, he can’t half land a punch.’

  ‘Now the master’s trying to separate them. Blimey, he’s just caught a blow to his chest,’ Edith gasped.

  ‘Right, girls, that’s quite enough. Go through to the dining room and stand behind your chairs,’ Sarah instructed.

  ‘Knew that one’d be trouble,’ Mrs Daws sniffed, as she lifted the pot from the range and set it on the trivet on the scrubbed table. Sarah was about to go to investigate when the door opened and the master came in, holding each boy by an ear.

  ‘This is not the kind of behaviour I expect from my pupils,’ he growled. ‘Apologize at once or there’ll be no breakfast for either of you.’

  ‘I only ’ad a wash so’s I got fed,’ Solomon protested. Sarah saw his head was already shaved and his dark eyes appeared large and luminous as they contrasted against the white of his scrubbed skin. In comparison, Bunter was red in the face and panting heavily. ‘And it were his fault,’ he cried, glaring at Bunter. ‘He tried to snatch me things and I told him, me name’s Smith not Sniff.’ He clutched his bundle to his chest defensively.

  ‘Apologize to Master Smith,’ Harry ordered, staring at Bunter.

  ‘But he were sniffin’ and he wiped his nose on his sleeve. You said that was a dis … er, disgusting ’abit,’ Bunter informed the master self-righteously.

  ‘I ain’t stayin’ ’ere to be called disgustin’,’ Solomon said, breaking free from the master’s grip. ‘Like I said, I can take care of meself,’ he shouted, clutching his bundle tighter. He made a sudden dash towards the door, then stopped at the sound of a sharp rap on the knocker. As the helmeted face of Sergeant Watts appeared through the glass, Solomon blanched and stood there looking scared.

  ‘Right, boys, into the dining room,’ Sarah said briskly. ‘We don’t want that porridge getting cold. Ah, April,’ she added as a red-headed girl emerged from the pantry. An ex-pupil whose facial scar had left her too shy to seek employment in the outside world, April took her position as maid seriously and Sarah knew she could rely upon her to keep the curious girls under control. ‘Please go and supervise the breakfast.’

  ‘And ask Pip to sit these two miscreants either side of him. Any more fighting and there’ll be trouble,’ Harry added, pushing the boys firmly on their way.

  ‘Do come in, Sergeant,’ Mrs Daws said, opening the door.

  ‘I’m afraid I bring bad news,’ the man said, carefully removing his helmet before stepping into the room. ‘I regret to tell you that Mr Smith has been pronounced dead.’

  ‘’Twere them crows,’ Mrs Daws murmured.

  ‘Don’t think so, Mrs Daws,’ Sergeant Watts frowned. ‘There’ll be an autopsy to establish the exact cause, though. The man never regained consciousness, which was probably a blessing as his body was burned almost beyond recognition.’

  ‘Right, girls, this afternoon I’m going to show you how to fashion a new garment from this,’ Sarah told them, holding up a green sprigged cotton dress. After the traumatic morning, they were all on edge and she was eager to restore calm and normality.

  ‘Are we really going to have our own dresses?’ Edith asked, her eyes bright with excitement.

  ‘Yes, Edith, using the clothes from the donations box, you are each going to make yourself an outfit to wear. However, before you can begin sewing you need to learn how to carefully unpick the existing garment without cutting into the material, then study its pattern. I’ve chosen this pretty dress to demonstrate how it is done,’ she added, spreading it out on the table.

  ‘May I join in, miss?’ April asked, bustling into the room. ‘I’ve finished my household chores and Mrs Daws said she could spare me for this lesson.’ She stood staring at Sarah hopefully.

  ‘Of course, April,’ Sarah smiled. ‘Come in and take a seat. Goodness, whatever is that noise?’ she asked, at the commotion coming from outside.

  ‘It’s the new boy, Solomon. He’s been kicking up worse than ever since he heard his father died. Mrs Daws reckons it’s best to let him get it out of his system so Master Higgins’ given him an old cushion to bash the living daylights out of instead of the apple tree,’ April told her. ‘He says we must all be extra kind to him while he adjusts.’

  ‘Yeah, I tried being friendly already,’ Edith nodded. Sarah smiled encouragingly, knowing that the girl’s brash exterior hid a caring nature. ‘I told him it must be awful hearing his father’s been burned to a cinder like that. But he just glared at me and cuddled his bundle like a blinkin’ doll.’

  ‘Well, I guess his clothes are all he has left …’ Sarah began.

  ‘More likely ’e’s got his tools in there,’ Kitty remarked. ‘I mean, a workman ’as to look after them or ’e can’t do his job,’ she said, focusing her knowing grey eyes on Sarah.

  Of course! Why hadn’t she thought of that, Sarah wondered, marvelling again at the worldly wisdom of this young girl.

  ‘Like I takes this everywhere,’ Monday piped up, caressing the little globe her father had given her. It lived in the pocket of her smock and she refused to be parted from it. ‘I love ’olding it and would feel ’orrible if it was taken away from me.’

  Sarah smiled at the little group. ‘Well, it’s a terrible thing to have happened and we must all do what we can to help young Solomon settle in. Now let’s concentrate on taking this dress apart and whilst we do, perhaps we can remember the “h” at the beginning of our words.’

  ‘Oh yeah, I keeps forgetting about that,’ Kitty replied.

  Thoughts of the new boy were put to the backs of their minds as the girls watched Sarah take up the little implement that enabled the unpicking of seams without cutting into the material. When she’d finished, she spread the fabric out over the table.

  ‘There ain’t enough there to fit you, miss,’ Edith commented, assessing Sarah with her calculating eye.

  ‘Well done, Edith. You’re absolutely right and that’s why we are going to remodel this dress to fit April.’

  ‘Me?’ April squeaked, her eyes wide.

  ‘Yes, you, April,’ Sarah replied, smiling at the maid’s look of astonishment. ‘You’re the oldest girl here so it’s only fair you should have the first outfit.’

  ‘She’s a woman, not a girl,’ little Monday piped up, gazing at April so adoringly Sarah felt a pang. Reminding herself she shouldn’t get too attached to any one child, she pulled herself together. Gazing around the little group, she recalled Harry’s words earlier and realized what he’d said was true. She had become extremely fond of them all.

  ‘Of course she is, silly me,’ Sarah laughed, pulling herself together. ‘Now pass me that tape and we’ll get measuring.’

  The girls gathered around again and by the end of the afternoon, the dress had been reshaped and pinned to fit April’s slender form.

  ‘Now, April, as you’ve seen how to unpick and remodel, you can spend the next lesson sewing while the rest of us work on another garment.’

  ‘As long as Mrs Daws lets me have the time off.’

  ‘We’ll be sewing on Saturday afternoons, too, don’t forget,’ Sarah assured her. ‘I know you have free time then.’

  ‘Oh, yes,’ April replied, then sighed. ‘I just hopes I don’t mess this up with me wonky stitching, miss,’ she murmured, gently stroking the cotton material.

  ‘I can help if you like,’ Edith offered eagerly.

  ‘Phew, that’d be a relief. Your stitches all go the right way. I still can’t believe I’m goin’ to have me own dress,’ April replied.

  ‘Who’s next, miss?’ Ellen asked excitedly.

  ‘To make it fair, we will work in order of age,’ Sarah replied.

  ‘That’s me then, miss,’ Maggie shrieked, jumping up and down.

  ‘Me’ll be an old lady afore it’s me turn,’ June lisped.

  ‘I will be an old lady bef
ore it’s my turn,’ Sarah corrected automatically.

  ‘Yeah, me an’ all,’ the little girl sighed.

  ‘As I’m fortunate enough to have my own dresses, I’m happy to wait until last, Miss Sullivan, or even forgo a new one if there’s not enough material,’ Sally offered. Sarah smiled at the earnest ten-year-old. Even though she’d been uprooted from the more salubrious surroundings of the deaconess’s school, and was used to better things, she never complained.

  ‘That’s kind of you, Sally. However, I’d like you all to learn how to adapt clothing as it will be a useful skill to have. It might even help some of you gain employment. And don’t worry, June, nobody will wear their new outfit until you all have one,’ she assured her.

  ‘We should have a party then so we can wear them, shouldn’t we, miss?’ Kitty cried.

  ‘I’m sure we can do something nice to celebrate,’ Sarah smiled, delighted at their enthusiasm. ‘And I’m certain Mrs Daws will show you how to make a special cake. Talking of which, let’s tidy everything away and then we’ll go and see what she has prepared for our supper.’ With the promise of food to come, the girls busied themselves, then left the school room. Outside the air was cold with a stiff breeze blowing in from the sea.

  Sarah glanced into the workroom where Harry was helping the boys with their woodwork. It was satisfying to see them all engrossed in their work and she noticed the coops were already taking shape. Five-year-old Luke, Kitty’s younger brother, was contentedly sawing away and Sarah was happy to think he’d settled in so well. Harry glanced her way and the warmth of his smile made her heart jump. But then he looked beyond her, his expression changing to a frown. Turning, she saw Solomon slumped on the grass, his bundle clasped to his chest, a brooding look on his face. Walking over, she crouched down beside him.

  ‘Want some company?’ Sarah asked softly. He shook his head and turned away but not before she’d seen his red-rimmed eyes. ‘It’s hard losing your father, isn’t it?’ When he didn’t respond, Sarah reached out to pat his shoulder but he shrugged her away. The wind was freshening, bringing with it the tang of salt, and Solomon shivered. ‘It’s time we went inside,’ she told him, getting to her feet. ‘It’s nearly supper time and Mrs Daws will have a nice fire going in the dining room.’

  ‘Call those few lumps of coke a fire?’ he snorted. ‘We ’ad a real one at the foundry. Red flames with sparks shooting right up to the roof.’ Goodness, Sarah thought, no wonder the place had burned down. ‘It were so ’ot you could fry yer mutton on yer shovel.’

  ‘Really?’ Sarah gasped. ‘Have you brought your tools with you?’ she asked, gesturing towards his bundle. Immediately, his guard went up and he lapsed into silence once more. ‘Well, I don’t know what Mrs Daws has cooked for us but it’s bound to be something tasty,’ she said brightly. ‘Come on.’ She held out her hand but he ignored it. Gently does it, Sarah, she told herself. Slowly she began to walk towards the house and was gratified when, after a few moments, she heard the crunch of gravel behind her. Then the sound was replaced by squeals of delight as the boys were let out of the workroom.

  ‘Hey, miss, we’ve made the bestest coops ever,’ Black cried.

  ‘Yeah, you should see them,’ Brown added as they hared past her, jostling each other in their eagerness to be first into the dining room.

  ‘How about you, Luke? Are you enjoying making them?’ she asked the boy.

  He nodded vigorously. ‘Master ’Iggins said I ’ad a good feel for woodwork,’ he told her proudly. ‘Them coops will soon be ready for the chooks.’

  ‘Well done, Luke,’ she replied. ‘I’m sure all that work has made you hungry so off you go and get something to eat.’

  Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Harry chatting amiably to Solomon as he steered him towards the house. The boy looked so sad and lost, Sarah felt a pang of conscience. How could she have even thought of sending him to the orphanage? Not only would he stay, but she’d never even think of turning a child away again. Funding the school might be a constant worry but she was determined to run Red Cliffs as her godfather had. She would make it a viable proposition so the school inspectors could find no cause for complaint when they revisited in May.

  Supper passed in its usual manner, the children falling quiet as they devoured their food. Sarah noticed Pip nodding reassuringly at Solomon and marvelled again at the boy’s caring manner. Then as the children busied themselves clearing away and carrying out their chores around the house, Sarah and Harry could at last relax over their cups of tea. It was a time they both enjoyed as they caught up on the events of the day.

  ‘Judging from the excitement ensuing from the girls’ table, I gather the sewing lesson was a success,’ Harry commented.

  ‘It was indeed. You should have seen April’s face when she learned the material we were working on was going to be turned into a dress for her. They are planning a party for when their new outfits are ready to wear. From what I saw through the window of the workshop the boys have been busy, too. Even Black and Brown, who as you well know, are not renowned for being industrious, were excited at how well those coops are coming along.’

  ‘They are almost finished and will soon be ready for their new occupants,’ Harry told her. Hearing the pride in his voice, she smiled. There really was nothing more satisfying than encouraging the children’s creativity. ‘Luke has an amazing aptitude for woodwork and the others are keen not to be outdone,’ he continued. ‘Couldn’t get Solomon to join in but that’s understandable. It’s been a traumatic day for him, poor lad.’

  Sarah nodded. ‘Solomon wanted to go to the infirmary and see his father but Mrs Daws managed to persuade him he would want him to remember him as he was.’

  ‘It was certainly a nasty business. I understand the fire had taken such a hold on the foundry, they had to leave it to burn itself out. Poor Solomon has no home to return to even if he wanted to.’ Harry stared around the room. ‘This place might be shabby but at least he’ll have a roof over his head. Even one that leaks,’ he grinned ruefully. ‘I must confess to being curious as to what’s in that bundle the boy’s been carrying around since he arrived.’

  ‘I thought it might have been clothes but Kitty reckons it’s more likely to be his tools.’

  ‘Of course,’ Harry cried, slapping his hand to the side of his head. ‘Why didn’t I think of that? Perhaps I can encourage him to use them to help us finish off the coops tomorrow. Goodness knows, we could do with some decent tools. The ones Farmer Jim loaned us are rusted to ruination, bless him. I’ve tried cleaning them up but …’ He shrugged.

  ‘How is he?’ Sarah asked.

  ‘You know Jim: pretends he’s on the mend but we all realize his crushed leg will never heal. I’m taking the boys to help tidy up the farm on Saturday afternoon but he really needs to take on a full-time helper. Bess keeps telling him it’s time he retired but he reckons that’d be the death of him. Between you and me, it’s his beloved cows that keep him going.’

  ‘Talking of keeping things going, we need to work out another budget,’ Sarah said, getting to her feet.

  ‘You’re some slave driver, Sarah Sullivan,’ Harry said. ‘Give me one good reason why I should spend another of my precious evenings working?’

  ‘You mean the prospect of a couple of hours alone in my office with me doesn’t appeal, Master Higgins?’ she teased.

  He grinned and jumped to his feet quickly, making her laugh.

  ‘Your eagerness is gratifying,’ she told him. ‘Not at all, Miss Sullivan. I just can’t abide to see a woman looking down at me. Besides, by your own admission, my grasp of mathematics is so much better than yours. I’ll just check the boys are all right, then I’m all yours,’ he teased.

  ‘Goodness, there’s no need to go overboard, Master Higgins,’ she replied, gathering up their tea cups. ‘It’s only your brain I’m after.’ She looked up then frowned as Pip came hobbling into the room with a grim expression. ‘Is something wrong, Pip?’

&n
bsp; ‘I was checking the front gates were locked when I heard this awful banging coming from the workroom. Went to investigate, but by the time I got there whoever it was had scarpered, leaving them chicken coops all bashed up,’ he cried.

  ‘What?’ Harry growled just as Mrs Daws hurried into the room.

  ‘Is young Solomon in here?’ the housekeeper asked, peering around as if the boy might be hiding behind one of the chairs.

  ‘No, Mrs Daws, he isn’t. I’m sure he left the room with the others after supper,’ Sarah replied, exchanging a look with Harry.

  ‘Well, he must have run off then. I’ve just done a head count before bed and there’s no sign of him or that bundle of his.’

  ‘Thank you, Mrs Daws. You go back to the kitchen and I’ll take a look around outside,’ Harry replied, grabbing his muffler from the back of the chair.

  ‘I’ll come with you,’ Sarah offered, but he shook his head.

  ‘If the children have got wind of this they’ll be bursting with curiosity and Mrs Daws will need a hand supervising them before bed. It’s best we keep them to their routine and should anyone ask about Solomon just say he’s feeling his father’s death and needs time to himself.’

  Fighting down her irritation at the way he assumed charge, Sarah managed a curt nod, but he was already striding from the room with Pip hobbling after him.

  3

  A glance at the mess in the workroom was enough for Harry to see Pip hadn’t been exaggerating. There were smashed wood and splinters everywhere. All that work and wood wasted, he thought as he headed towards the gates that the lad was already unlocking.

  ‘Shall I come with you, Master Higgins?’ he asked.

  Harry glanced down at Pip’s leg and, seeing the cold weather had made his limp more pronounced than usual, shook his head. ‘No, stay here. If Solomon returns take him to the kitchen and keep him there until I get back.’

  ‘Yes, sir. I’d only hold you up anyway,’ Pip replied, correctly interpreting the master’s thoughts. He didn’t often lament the infliction he’d been left with after suffering typhus as a young boy but sometimes, like now, he wished he could be of more use. ‘Guess you’ll be making for the foundry, or what’s left of it? Poor blighter, it’s a rum do, isn’t it?’

 

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