Orphans and Angels

by Linda Finlay

  ‘I might not be in until later. When we were out with the children, Miss O’Reilly mentioned their back door was sticking so I offered to take a look.’

  ‘Fair enough. I’ll see you in a few moments, then,’ Sarah called as she made her way down the hallway.

  ‘Solomon’s not the only one with a bit of hero worship, then,’ the housekeeper teased, giving Harry another of her looks. As he promptly fled outside, her chuckle resounded around the room.

  Although the fire was still burning, the office felt cold after the warmth of the range. By the time Sarah had lit the candles and stoked the flames, Harry had joined her.

  ‘Well, the April showers have arrived,’ he announced, brushing raindrops from his jacket. ‘Let’s hope that wriggly tin does its job, especially as one of these is from Langham.’ He passed a sheaf of papers across the desk.

  ‘Are you sure this is right?’ Sarah asked, quickly scanning the first invoice. ‘It doesn’t seem very much considering the amount of time those men put in.’

  ‘Well, we already had most of the materials,’ Harry shrugged.

  ‘Even so, Langham and his men were here for best part of a week,’ Sarah frowned. ‘We can’t accept charity, Harry.’

  ‘The fact is, Langham got in a muddle with his accounts. In fact, they were in much the same state as Red Cliffs’ were, so I’ve been helping him bring his books up to date.’

  So, that’s where he’d been scurrying off to each night, Sarah thought.

  ‘That’s an admirable thing to do, Harry, and I’ll see the invoice is paid first thing. Oh, on another matter entirely, you do think I’ve made the right decision about Edith, don’t you?’

  ‘I do. She’s nearly ten years old and whilst not the brightest in the classroom, knows what she wants to do when she leaves here. It will give her the opportunity to see what sewing for a living entails and, who knows, might even give her the incentive to pay attention in class.’

  That’s pretty well what Miss O’Reilly said,’ Sarah agreed, trying not to smile as he cleared his throat.

  ‘We should make a record of any earnings she gets and the amount Red Cliffs deducts for living expenses.’

  ‘You mean we should charge her for her food?’ she frowned.

  ‘I do, Sarah. As you pointed out just now, we are not a charity. Teaching pupils the value of money has always been a priority here. They know you don’t get anything for nothing and if Edith makes a contribution to our funds, we can put the rest aside for when she leaves here.’

  ‘Yes, I can see how that fits with our ethos. I knew Edith was a good seamstress but it seems she has a talent worth cultivating.’

  ‘It will certainly give her a rung on the ladder, and don’t forget it is our job here to prepare the children for the outside world,’ he smiled. His words triggered an earlier memory.

  ‘You know, Harry, I was certain I spotted Kitty in town today,’ Sarah said. ‘However, she’d gone by the time I got outside. And then, of course, I was detained by Miss O’Reilly and Edith insisting I go and see Sylvie Spangles so I had no chance of following. I can’t help worrying about Kitty; Luke, too. Is there really nothing more we can do?’

  ‘I worry, too, you know,’ he admitted. ‘Although our head tells us not to become too attached to the pupils in our care, the heart has other ideas. I’ll have another word with Sergeant Watts when I go into town and see if any of his men have found out anything. By the way, talking of the town, I hear you were seen coming out of that swish hotel on the front. Going up in the world, are we, Miss Sullivan?’

  Not in the mood for his banter, she gave him a stern look. ‘I attended a very important meeting of the NUWSS earlier and women are indeed going to be rising up in the world, Harry Higgins, so you’d better watch out.’

  ‘You’ve got me quivering in my boots, Miss Sullivan,’ he teased. ‘You mean a man won’t come home to find his dinner on the table and his wife waiting to do his bidding?’

  Sarah gave a most unladylike snort. ‘Well, this one certainly won’t be doing anyone’s bidding. I can’t imagine what possesses a woman to waste her life running round after a man.’

  Seeing her outraged expression, Harry sighed inwardly. How had he ever imagined they were on the same wavelength?

  ‘All right, Sarah, keep your hair on. I wouldn’t want a woman running round after me in any case. A cosy home and family would be nice, though,’ he replied wistfully.

  However, Sarah was already pulling out the ledger from her drawer. As she did her hand brushed against Mrs Knight’s book of Principles for Trading and Profit. Thinking she’d do well to refer to the wise lady’s words, she put it to one side.

  ‘A little light reading?’ Harry enquired. Home and hearth were obviously not on Sarah’s agenda, he realized, wondering how he’d ever thought they would be.

  ‘Anyway, talking about going up in the world,’ she said ignoring his comment, ‘with the inspection due at the end of next month, we need to bring our books up to date ready for them to be audited. Help me enter these invoices so we can at least make a start.’

  ‘’Tis slave labour, O mistress,’ he muttered, but did as he was told.

  With her new system in place, it didn’t take long for them to work out that, although Red Cliffs’ funds were improving, expenditure still outstripped income.

  ‘It’s an uphill battle just keeping this place running, isn’t it?’ Sarah said, pushing the ledger aside and rubbing her eyes. ‘Even with Lady Chorlton’s kind benefaction, we still have a deficit. I just hope the Local Authority hurry up and approve your application to run the boys’ toolmaking classes. That extra funding will assist greatly.’

  ‘Can’t see why they shouldn’t,’ he replied. ‘Let’s look at the positives. Thanks to the good ladies running the soup kitchen, we’ve still got vegetables left in the shed and the hens are laying well. It’s a shame we’re unable to get to the farm’s produce, though.’

  ‘It sounds like Sergeant Watts will soon catch those thieves and then you will,’ Sarah pointed out.

  ‘I’m hoping the roof will hold up and the building will pass the inspection but …’ He looked at Sarah seriously, hardly daring to voice what was on his mind.

  ‘But what, Harry?’ she urged.

  ‘What will you do if Red Cliff fails, Sarah? The Local Authority have made it quite clear this is our last chance for keeping the school open.’

  ‘Harry Higgins, I’m surprised at you. That’s defeatist talk,’ she exclaimed.

  ‘Defeatist or realistic? Perhaps you should consider accepting one of those offers from the developers.’ She gave him such a glare, he sprung to his feet. ‘Well, I must be on my way.’

  As the door closed behind him, Sarah sat back in her chair. Harry knew how she felt about keeping her godfather’s legacy going. How could he even suggest she do otherwise? Although he was a good master, he really wasn’t turning out to be the man she’d thought he was.

  Her glance fell on Mrs Knight’s tome but as she flicked through its pages, hoping again to find some inspiration, it fell open at the same page as before.

  Eighth Principle (a): Apply the 5 F’s:

  (i) Failure. Accept that failure is not an option, but sometimes the coat must be cut to suit the cloth.

  Well, she knew failure was not an option. Hadn’t she just told Harry the same? As for the coat … Her hand flew to her mouth. Her coat! In her haste to catch Kitty, she hadn’t collected it from the cloakroom of the hotel. Worse still, she’d left Bertram sitting alone at the table in the restaurant. Good heavens, whatever must he think of her?

  Although the rain was still coming down in sheets, Harry whistled happily as he made his way towards the address Miss O’Reilly had given him. Sheena, he thought, his heart beating wildly. Now there was a real woman. Having stopped to check the number on the gate of the little terraced house she was staying at, he walked up the path. The garden was small but neatly tended, daffodils bobbing brightly in the breeze. He
saw that the door and frames were freshly painted and the windows gleamed. It was obviously a home well kept.

  ‘Come in, Master Higgins,’ Sheena greeted him, pulling open the door before he’d had a chance to ring the bell. ‘Nanna has gone to church with our neighbour, but I’ll show you the sticking door that’s been driving her wild.’

  He bent to remove his boots but she shook her head.

  ‘No need, Master Higgins. I’m sure the job won’t take long,’ she said, leading the way through to a cosy kitchen where a kettle was singing on the range. ‘I’ll make a pot of tea whilst you’re working.’

  He set to, making the adjustment to the door. It was a simple enough job yet the sight of her flitting around the room in her brightly coloured skirts distracted him. When he’d finally finished, she set a mug of tea and a scone-like cake on the kitchen table before him.

  ‘There, take a seat and eat, as Mammy always says,’ she invited. He didn’t need telling twice, and pulled out a chair with a bright red cushion in the same material as the cosy covering the teapot. It was a cheerful room, and as she relaxed in the chair opposite, it was all he could do not to gaze into her emerald eyes. Not wishing to appear a half-wit, he took a bite of his scone. It was meltingly light and like nothing he’d ever tasted before.

  ‘This is delightful,’ he murmured, taking another bite.

  ‘Oh, it’s only a potato cake,’ she replied, colour tingeing her cheek.

  He sniffed the air appreciatively. ‘Something else smells good, too.’ He saw her glance towards the pot simmering on the stove and then at the clock on the wall. ‘Irish stew for luncheon. Nanna’s invited her neighbour to join us and I’m afraid there’s only enough for the three of us. Still, to be sure, you’ll have other arrangements anyway,’ she said quickly.

  Disappointment flooded through him for he’d been hoping to have the opportunity of getting to know her grandmother. He nodded politely, wondering if he dared invite her for a stroll along the seafront after she’d eaten.

  ‘Do you not worship with your grandmother?’ he asked, to break the awkward silence that had fallen between them.

  ‘My faith has been called into question recently, Master Higgins,’ she told him, taking a gulp of her drink.

  ‘Oh?’ he asked. Her eyes clouded but seeing that she wasn’t going to be drawn, he hurried on. ‘But you have settled well into Red Cliffs?’

  She nodded and smiled but didn’t reply.

  Determined to find out more about her he continued, ‘You were a schoolmistress back home, weren’t you? What did you teach? I don’t believe it said on your testimonial.’

  He just had time to register her frown when they heard voices in the hallway. Her eyes widened in alarm as the door opened and a sprightly woman in a bright green jacket and skirt entered.

  ‘Oh, Sheena dear, I didn’t realize you had company,’ she said, her lilting voice a clear indication they were related. ‘Well, aren’t you going to introduce me?’ she added pleasantly.

  ‘This is Master Higgins, Nanna,’ she whispered.

  Immediately the woman’s smile froze. ‘Is it indeed?’ she replied. ‘And pray what are you doing sneaking into my house to see my granddaughter when she’s all alone?’

  ‘It wasn’t like that, Nanna,’ Sheena gasped. ‘I mentioned that your back door was sticking and Master Higgins kindly offered to take a look.’

  ‘As long as that’s all he was looking at,’ the woman replied sharply.

  ‘Indeed it was, Mrs …?’ he began, taken aback by the woman’s icy manner. However, she continued staring stonily at him but didn’t respond. ‘Well, it’s all fixed now so I’ll be on my way,’ he said quickly. ‘Good day to you,’ he said, hurrying past the surprised-looking neighbour in the hallway.

  29

  ‘The rain has stopped at last,’ Mrs Daws announced as she busied herself preparing the children’s breakfast on Monday morning. ‘And from what April tells me, the roof hasn’t leaked. Mind you, the racket on that tin was enough to give a person an ’eadache if you was that way inclined.’

  Sarah smiled at the housekeeper’s expression. Since coming to Red Cliffs the previous autumn, she’d only ever known the woman have one headache, which, with everything she undertook around the place, was a blessing.

  ‘I know there’s been some water damage to some of the rooms upstairs, so I’ll take a good look around and see what needs fixing. We must have those dormitories spick and span for the inspection,’ she replied.

  ‘I know you’ve got a lot to do with Edith starting her new job today so I can check them over, Miss Sullivan,’ April offered, looking up from the bread she was cutting.

  ‘That would be a great help,’ Sarah smiled. ‘Oh, good morning, Pip,’ she called as the boy hobbled into the room clutching a large parcel tied with an elaborate red bow.

  ‘This was dropped off at the gate by some swell driving an automobile,’ he exclaimed. ‘He were wearing a deerstalker and tweed jacket with goggles that covered ’is face. Spoke all posh, like, and said I must be sure to deliver it straight into your own fair ’ands,’ he mimicked, bowing low as he ceremoniously proffered the package.

  ‘Goodness,’ Sarah gasped, taking it from him. ‘I’ll be in my office if anyone wants me,’ she added quickly. Then ignoring their curious stares she hurried from the room.

  Closing the study door firmly behind her, she tore at the ribbons and found her coat nestling in layers of tissue paper. How kind of Bertram to deliver it personally, although she wished he’d called in to see her; then she could have thanked him and apologized for her behaviour. She shook her head, still unable to believe she had left him high and dry in the hotel. Having thought long and hard how to atone, she’d decided to write him a note explaining her reasons but in the end, worried this would look too forward, she had decided against it.

  Knowing she’d need her coat to wear that afternoon, she shook out the folds and only then noticed the envelope pinned onto the lapel. The paper was expensively crisp and crackled as she unfolded it, and the note was penned in the same green ink as his previous one.

  Dearest Sarah Sullivan,

  I beg your forgiveness for my crass behaviour at our meeting last week. Overwhelmed at being in the company of such a beautiful lady, I regret my tongue failed to engage with my brain, resulting in that outlandish outpouring of gibberish. No wonder you ran away as fast as your dainty feet would take you.

  If you could find it in your heart to take pity upon this repentant fellow and grant him another chance, he would be forever obliged. I shall be waiting at the same table on Saturday afternoon at three thirty in hopeful anticipation.

  Your humble servant,

  Bertram J. Brightling

  Sarah reread the note, then frowned. She’d been so in awe of the plush surroundings and stylish ladies, she’d hardly paid attention to what he’d said. Yet if he thought it had been his behaviour that had caused her to run away then that excused her actions, didn’t it? She sighed, knowing her conscience wouldn’t permit her to take the easy way out. Still, he had given her the perfect opportunity to meet him again, she thought, her spirits lifting at the prospect.

  Sheena’s heart was heavy as she tramped up the driveway. If only she hadn’t offered to come into work early. Now, there was no way she’d be able to avoid bumping into Harry. Besides, decency decreed she apologize for her nanna’s curt manner, although what she could say if he asked why the woman had taken against him, especially after fixing their back door, goodness only knew.

  The children, having finished morning lessons, were busy in the grounds, the boys digging over the vegetable plot, the girls cleaning out the chicken coops. Noticing Harry was still working on the new shed, she hurried inside.

  ‘Ah, there you are, Miss O’Reilly,’ Mrs Daws said, looking up from the big pot she was stirring on the range. ‘Now sit yourself down, dear, and have a bowl of potage before them gannets come in and devour the whole ruddy lot.’

 
‘That’s very kind, but I’m here to work, Mrs Daws,’ Sheena replied quickly. ‘I just came in to let you know I was here.’ The woman took no notice and ladled broth into a bowl and placed it on the table.

  ‘I told Miss Sullivan that if you was doing longer hours then the least we could do was feed you,’ the housekeeper declared. As the woman stood there, hands on hips, Sheena smiled for the first time that day and sat down to eat.

  ‘Miss Sullivan has already left with Edith. My word, you should have seen that girl. Squealing like a pig in … well, she were that excited,’ Mrs Daws said, as she began cutting slices of bread. ‘Dressed in her new outfit with that big flower on, she looked right grown up. It’s her birthday next week so we’ll have to have a party for her.’

  Determined to finish eating before Harry came in for his meal, Sheena let the housekeeper chatter on. However, she was just getting to her feet, when he strode into the kitchen. From his slicked-back hair and the droplets of water glistening on his face, it was evident he’d just taken a wash under the pump. He looked so fresh and handsome, Sheena felt her pulse quicken.

  ‘Miss O’Reilly,’ he acknowledged. His manner was polite enough, but his eyes were wary.

  ‘Master Higgins,’ she replied, her voice hoarse.

  The housekeeper glanced their way, shook her head, then went over to the range.

  ‘I, er, would like to …’ Sheena faltered, then took a deep breath. ‘To thank you for fixing Nanna’s door. She is very relieved not to have to use her bottom any more.’ No, that didn’t sound right, she chided herself. A spark of amusement gleamed in Harry’s eyes but he didn’t respond. ‘And, er …’ she trailed to a halt.

  ‘And?’ he prompted.

  ‘You’re early, miss,’ April cried, bounding into the room. She looked from Sheena to Master Higgins and giggled. ‘Oops, sorry, am I interrupting something?’

  ‘Of course not, April,’ Sheena replied, trying not to show her frustration. ‘Well, I’d better get on or the girls will be wondering where I am,’ she said quickly.

  ‘Hardly, miss. They’re still seeing to the ’ens.’