by Linda Finlay
Harry nodded and wrote that down. ‘We’ll make a list so everyone knows what they’re to do. And, Solomon, I’m relying on you to give a demonstration to the inspector.’
‘I can do that,’ he agreed. ‘Mind you, I don’t know what he’ll say about her being in the class,’ he grinned, jerking his head to where Kitty was deftly smoothing down a piece of wood with a plane.
The next weeks passed in a frenzy of activity and before they knew it the day of the inspection was upon them.
‘I have to say, Miss O’Reilly’s done a wonderful job getting all this bedding finished,’ Mrs Daws said, as she and Sarah gave the dormitories a final check.
‘With the girls’ help,’ Sarah replied, thinking of all the hours they’d spent sewing.
‘Yes, but it’s been Miss O’Reilly who’s been taking all that work home to make sure it’s done in time and up to standard. Why, she even had to cancel Sunday luncheon with Master Higgins.’
‘Oh, I see,’ Sarah frowned. ‘Only having taken the girls for sewing a couple of hours each week, I didn’t realize they were behind.’
‘She’s not one to blow her own trumpet, and I know you’ve been very busy, too, Miss Sullivan,’ the housekeeper said quickly.
‘Fingers crossed we’ve done enough to satisfy the inspectors,’ Sarah replied, staring around at the freshly whitewashed walls and sparkling windows with satisfaction. Then she saw Pip open the gate and let in a smartly dressed man wearing a bowler hat.
‘Here we go,’ she said, smoothing down her best navy dress and hurrying down the stairs.
‘Good morning and welcome to Red Cliffs,’ she said, smiling brightly.
‘Miss Sullivan?’ he asked. She nodded. ‘Mr Mahon, from the Local Authority,’ he announced. His voice had a slight lilt and his manner was pleasant.
‘Do come into my office,’ she invited him. ‘Can I get you some refreshment?’
‘Thank you, that won’t be necessary,’ he said, drawing a file from his leather briefcase and placing it on the desk before him.
‘There’s only one of you?’ Sarah asked in surprise.
‘Yes, and I don’t think this re-inspection will take long. I see the school has applied for extra funding for the tuition of, er,’ he referred to his notes, ‘wood and metalworking. Naturally, I will be wishing to see a demonstration on that. I also wish to have a word with Miss O’Reilly.’
‘Miss O’Reilly teaches in the afternoon, Mr Mahon,’ Sarah told him.
‘Perhaps you would ask that she sees me as soon as she arrives. First, I will check your books – your accounts have been audited?’
‘Yes,’ she replied, passing the ledger across the desk.
‘You need not wait, Miss Sullivan. I will call you if I have any queries. Oh, and I need sight of the school licence?’
‘I’m afraid I haven’t been able to find it, Mr Mahon. I’ve searched everywhere,’ she explained.
He glanced at the row of opened boxes but didn’t comment. ‘Perhaps you could tell Master Higgins I will be sitting in on his lesson in …’ he frowned and consulted his pocket watch, ‘twenty minutes. Then I will take a look around the premises by which time Miss O’Reilly should have arrived. When I have spoken with her I will want to see a demonstration of toolmaking. After which we will have another meeting. Thank you, Miss Sullivan.’
As he bent his head over the ledger, Sarah hurried to the classroom.
‘Excuse me, Master Higgins,’ she said, careful to remain in the doorway, out of earshot of the pupils.
‘Everything all right?’
Quickly she relayed the inspector’s requests.
‘Well, that all seems straightforward,’ Harry shrugged. ‘I’ll just go and bribe that little lot to be on their best behaviour. I don’t suppose your Bertram has dropped any more candy off for them?’
Sarah smiled, remembering the large box that had been delivered after their last meeting.
‘I’ll see if there’s any left,’ she promised. ‘Good luck.’
True to his word, the inspector, having sat in on Harry’s lesson, then proceeded to take a look around the property. He politely declined Sarah’s offer of a guided tour then refused Mrs Daws’ invitation to luncheon.
‘It’s my best cottage pie,’ she told him.
‘Although it sounds delicious, Mrs Daws, regrettably I must decline.’
‘That Mr Green always scoffed as much as he could,’ the housekeeper added.
‘But he is no longer with us. However, talk of your cottage pie has jogged my memory about the school’s future, and for that I thank you.’
‘Well, he’s a real gent,’ Mrs Daws said to April, mollified by his words. ‘Oh, there you are, dear,’ she added, looking up as Sheena entered the kitchen. ‘Miss Sullivan says you’re to go straight through to her office.’
‘Sounds ominous, Mrs Daws,’ she said.
‘Oh, don’t you worry, dear, that inspector’s a right nice man,’ the housekeeper assured her.
Quickly taking off her hat and coat, Sheena hurried down the hallway and knocked on the door.
‘Come in,’ Sarah called. ‘Mr Mahon, this is Miss …’
‘We already know each other, don’t we, Miss O’Reilly?’ he said.
Sheena gulped as the familiar grey eyes stared challengingly at her.
‘I am surprised you managed to secure a position here in view of your past record. Tell me, Miss Sullivan, did you not request a character from Miss O’Reilly?’
‘Yes, of course,’ Sarah replied, looking from Sheena to the inspector in dismay.
‘And did it not state that this woman was a marriage wrecker and thief to boot?’
‘What?’ Sarah gasped. ‘Now, Mr Mahon, there must surely be some mistake.’
‘No mistake whatsoever, is there, Miss O’Reilly.’
‘I am not a thief, Mr Mahon,’ Sheena replied, her voice coming out as a whisper. ‘And as for …’
‘We have discussed this before, Miss O’Reilly, ’he snapped before turning back to Sarah. ‘Miss Sullivan, did Miss O’Reilly not tell you she had been dismissed from her previous situation?’
Sarah shook her head.
‘But you did check her character?’
‘Yes, of course I did,’ she spluttered. ‘Although …’
‘Although, Miss Sullivan?’
‘It was very sparse in detail,’ Sarah admitted.
‘I would be failing in my duty as inspector if I didn’t advise you to dismiss this woman on the spot. As proprietor of Red Cliffs, responsibility for the moral welfare of your pupils lies with you. It is your decision, of course, but I do have my report to make.’ He shrugged but left Sarah in doubt as to his meaning.
‘Well, I …’ Sarah began, then turned to Sheena. ‘Do you have anything to say in your defence, Miss O’Reilly?’
‘I am not a thief,’ she replied.
‘But your character, it was sparse, was it not?’ Sarah persisted.
‘I omitted some detail,’ Sheena admitted. Then she squared her shoulders. ‘Don’t worry, Miss Sullivan, I’ll be on my way.’
Sarah watched helplessly as, head held high, she left the room. Surprisingly, she’d become quite fond of the mistress and didn’t want to see her go like this.
‘Was that really necessary?’ she asked the man.
‘A word to the wise, Miss Sullivan,’ said the inspector. ‘Whenever you engage staff, be sure to check their credentials thoroughly. Now, I believe it is time to see this demonstration of toolmaking. No, don’t get up,’ he added, as Sarah made to move. ‘I know my way.’
He walked briskly from the room, leaving a stunned Sarah staring after him. Then, realizing the girls would need supervising, she hurried through to the kitchen.
‘Could April look after the girls for an hour or so, Mrs Daws?’ she asked.
‘What’s wrong with Miss O’Reilly? Isn’t she supposed to be watching them?’ the housekeeper frowned.
‘She’s had to go home,
’ Sarah said quickly, unwilling to divulge the inspector’s bombshell until she’d spoken to Harry.
‘Good afternoon, Mr Mahon,’ Harry greeted the inspector outside the new shed. ‘Children?’
‘Good afternoon, Mr Mahon,’ they intoned.
‘Right, everyone, let’s show the inspector what we have learned so far. Solomon, perhaps you would like to start.’
‘Sir,’ he said, going over to the pole lathe. ‘Brown will assist me in turning some billets of wood into rounded handles,’ he explained.
As they worked, the pole bobbing up and down, Solomon turned to the inspector and said, ‘You might find it interesting to take a look outside, sir, for if we are doing this properly it will look like a nodding donkey.’ The man raised his brow but duly did as Solomon suggested. When he returned, Harry noted he was smiling.
‘Now we will demonstrate the shave horse, sir. We use this for forming wood into irregular shapes such as axe handles. Black here will demonstrate how we do this using a draw knife,’ Solomon said.
The inspector watched closely then turned to Harry. ‘I’m impressed with what you’ve taught them so far, Higgins. But what is that girl doing here?’ he asked, pointing to Kitty.
‘She requested to learn this craft in preference to needlework, Mr Mahon.’
‘Isn’t that irregular?’ the inspector asked.
‘Miss Sullivan is keen that, where practicable, the girls should be given the same opportunities as the boys,’ Harry explained.
‘Indeed?’ the man replied. ‘Well, perhaps she would like to give me a demonstration of metalworking now,’ he challenged.
‘Come along then,’ Kitty said, leading the way to the converted stable.
‘Can you tell me why this is in a different building, young lady?’ he asked.
‘To keep the sparks away from the wood shavings,’ she told him. ‘Now, Master Higgins has shown me how to hammer bent tools back into shape but you’d better stand back.’
To Mr Mahon’s amazement, Kitty picked up the hammer and began bashing it skilfully.
‘What else do you do?’ the man asked, when she held up the straightened tool.
‘Polish the steel part with dogfish skin. Then Solomon and Bunter are going to show you how to get the tools ready for use by grinding a keen edge on ’em.’
‘I see. Well, thank you, Master Higgins, that is quite enough,’ he said, turning to Harry. ‘Perhaps you could join me in Miss Sullivan’s office in …’ he consulted his pocket watch, ‘twenty minutes.’
Sarah looked up anxiously as Mr Mahon re-entered the office.
‘Everything all right?’ she asked.
‘Most interesting. Now …’ he said, opening his file again. ‘Your accounts, while up to date, don’t show much in reserve, do they?’
‘No, but we have lots of plans to address that,’ she told him. He raised a brow but didn’t comment. ‘We have applied for funding for the tuition of …’
The man held up his hand. ‘I know and would like to discuss that when Master Higgins joins us. Now, to his academic teaching. He is proficient, his lessons well put together. The pupils, both girls and boys, were attentive and smartly dressed. My tour of the property revealed well-kept rooms, clean bedding and no evidence of water ingress. The steps you have taken to remedy the roof defect have clearly worked. Mrs Daws keeps a well-stocked larder and is obviously a good and efficient housekeeper.’ As he paused for breath, Sarah let out a sigh of relief.
‘However, there are a couple of things that concern me, Miss Sullivan. First, the licence.’
‘I know, and I have searched everywhere.’
‘Our records don’t actually show one was ever issued. Can you confirm the previous proprietor, Dr Samuel Lawrence, was granted a licence to open Red Cliffs as a school?’
‘He must have been,’ Sarah stammered.
‘But you cannot actually confirm that is the case?’
‘Well, no. I mean, my godfather died last year so …’ she shrugged.
The man wrote something on his file and then looked directly at her.
‘The main other concern here is the lack of modern plumbing. It is now a requirement for schools with residential accommodation to have water piped into the property and internal water closets installed.’
‘Really?’ Sarah replied, her heart sinking.
‘A costly expenditure, I know,’ he nodded. ‘Ragged schools have had their day, Miss Sullivan.’
‘What? But what about the pupils?’ she cried.
He sat back in his seat and studied her for a moment.
‘The thinking now is that orphans and deprived children benefit hugely from a more, how shall we say, homely environment. They are known as cottage schools or homes and …’ He was interrupted by a knock on the door.
‘Come in, Master Higgins,’ Sarah called.
‘You either see through wood or you know the person about to enter very well,’ the inspector smiled. ‘Ah, indeed it is Master Higgins,’ he confirmed as Harry hovered in the doorway.
‘Come and sit down,’ Sarah invited. ‘Mr Mahon has been going through his findings.’
‘All good, I hope,’ Harry smiled, but Sarah could see the anxious look in his eyes.
‘I was impressed with your teaching of the woodturning and metalwork, especially as you had the pupils demonstrating their skills.’
‘Oh, that’s good,’ Sarah replied, relief flooding through her. But the inspector hadn’t finished.
‘However, in order to agree funding, I need you to tell me what benefits the children will gain from this. I mean, they won’t all go on to use these trades, will they?’
‘I have observed the children working and believe the repetitive work plus the need to concentrate while using sharp tools on both the pole lathe and shave horse make them calmer and less disruptive,’ Harry explained. ‘The heavy work hammering the steel blades and turning the grindstone helps build their physical strength as well as leading to a stronger mentality. They are also growing in confidence as they realize they are now doing a man’s job.’
‘Even the girls?’
‘I feel strongly that girls should receive the same opportunities as boys, Mr Mahon,’ Sarah explained. ‘In years to come, who knows what jobs will be open to women?’
The inspector quirked his brow in that way she’d come to recognize meant he wasn’t about to be drawn.
‘Well, thank you both for your co-operation and a very interesting day here at Red Cliffs,’ he said, snapping his file shut and getting to his feet.
‘You will receive my official report in due course and in the meantime I will inform the Local Authority that you are in need of a new travelling mistress, Miss Sullivan. I’ll see myself out. Good afternoon to you both.’ With a quick nod, he left the room.
‘What did he mean about needing a new travelling mistress?’
‘He told me I should dismiss Miss O’Reilly on the spot, Harry. Apparently, he knew her before and she was accused of theft and, er … he also called her a marriage wrecker,’ Sarah told him uneasily.
‘What? I don’t believe that,’ he cried, springing to his feet. ‘I’ll go to the classroom and speak with her.’
‘It’s too late, Harry. She’s already left.’
36
Harry rushed down the street, his mind whirling like falling sycamore leaves. Why hadn’t Sarah stood up for Miss O’Reilly? Worse still, why had she let her go? And why had Sheena left without discussing it with him? Reaching her grandmother’s house, he hammered on the door.
‘She’s gone, lad,’ the woman said, staring sadly at him.
‘Gone? Gone where?’ he demanded.
‘Just packed her bag, said she’d be in touch and left.’
‘The inspector said she’d been accused of theft …’ he began.
‘My granddaughter is no thief, Master Higgins,’ Sheena’s grandmother retorted, green eyes glittering. ‘Night after night she spent stitching that bedding for the schoo
l and yet you choose to think the worst of her. Knew you were out to take advantage of her, first time I clapped eyes on you. On your way,’ she cried, closing the door.
‘If you hear from her, please tell her she’s welcome at Red Cliffs anytime,’ he pleaded but he was talking to fresh air.
When Edith came out of the theatre she could hardly contain her excitement.
‘Come and look at this,’ she called to Pip, who was waiting patiently in the cart.
Seeing the girl’s flushed face and the way the turbanlike thing on her head wobbled alarmingly as she jumped up and down, he sighed good-naturedly, climbed down and hobbled over to see her pointing at a poster advertising the new production opening that weekend. ‘They’ve done the final reveal, and look,’ she squeaked.
‘Well, I’ll be,’ he muttered.
‘It’s Miss Sullivan to a T, ain’t it? Look, they’ve even captured that snooty look she’s got.’
‘It certainly looks like her,’ Pip admitted. ‘Didn’t know she ’ad dainty feet, though.’
‘That’s the name of the play, silly. Still, we can check them out when we get back. It’s funny, when we was dressing Francesca – that’s the leading lady, yer know,’ she told him.
Pip nodded indulgently. ‘Yer’s only mentioned it about a thousand times,’ he grinned.
‘Well, when me and Sylvie was checking her costume, Francesca put me in the mind of miss, but I thought it was ’cos she was sticking her nose in the air.’
‘Can’t see Miss Sullivan with a cigarette holder, though,’ Pip sniffed. ‘Now come on, or you’ll miss supper.’
‘I can’t wait to tell Miss Sullivan her face is on them posters,’ she cried, climbing into her seat. ‘How did that inspection go?’
‘Don’t ask me, Edith. All I know is Miss O’Reilly went running down the drive without her coat on,’ he replied. ‘Didn’t even speak when I opened the gates for her.’
‘Oh Lor,’ Edith muttered.
Trying to put all thought of the inspector’s visit and the way Harry had glowered at her to the back of her mind, Sarah went through to the kitchen to see if Mrs Daws needed any help.