Orphans and Angels

by Linda Finlay

  ‘Is Miss O’Reilly all right now?’ the housekeeper asked. ‘Only I was wondering if she’s staying for supper being as how her coat’s still on the peg.’

  ‘I’m afraid she’s had to leave us, Mrs Daws.’

  ‘Oh, has her grandmother been taken poorly? Such a caring girl. Shouldn’t have gone without her coat, though. She might catch a chill,’ the housekeeper fussed.

  ‘I’ll explain later,’ Sarah said quickly as she saw the children washing their hands at the pump outside. ‘Now, what can I do to help?’

  The housekeeper gestured to the plates of bread and scrape. ‘You can take them through, if you would, while I dish up the soup. That inspector man seemed quite nice compared to pompous Mr Green,’ she added, going over to the range and taking the lid off her big pot.

  ‘Hmm,’ Sarah replied non-committally.

  ‘Edith and Pip are back,’ April said, coming into the room. ‘I’ll sound the gong,’ she added, giving it a resounding whack. ‘Doesn’t have the same boom as your old one, does it, Mrs Daws?’

  ‘No, it doesn’t. It’s a shame they never found it amongst all that loot,’ Mrs Daws sniffed. ‘I still think that one sounds too posh for this place.’

  Hiding her smile, Sarah took the plates through to the dining hall and waited while the children filed in and took their places. Once she’d said grace and dished up supper, she looked around the room to make sure all was well. As usual the boys were tucking in oblivious to anything other than their food. Then she noticed Edith was looking under the table.

  ‘Have you dropped something, Edith?’ she asked.

  ‘No, miss,’ the girl replied, quickly straightening up.

  ‘Well, eat up and then you can tell us about your day,’ she urged.

  ‘We ’ad a great time,’ Kitty told her. ‘Solomon showed the inspector how to work the shave horse and the pole lathe, and I banged some blades straight on the anvil. He was right impressed, I can tell yer.’

  ‘Well, Sylvie and me had to check the costumes for the dress rehearsal and …’

  ‘Finish your meal, girls, and then you may talk,’ Sarah told them. As Kitty and Edith raised their eyebrows at each other, Sarah hid a smile. It seemed they were in cahoots again.

  As usual the food disappeared faster than early morning dew in the sun. Sarah was helping to clear the tables when she saw Edith and Kitty pointing at her feet and muttering to each other.

  ‘Is something wrong?’ she asked.

  Shaking their heads, they nudged each other and giggled. Then Sarah noticed Pip glance down as he passed her.

  ‘Pip, perhaps you could explain this sudden interest in my feet,’ she asked, aware that the others had stopped to see what was going on.

  ‘Dainty Feet,’ he mumbled, his cheeks flushing the colour of the soup they’d just eaten.

  ‘You think I have dainty feet?’ she asked, staring down at her buttoned boots. The words chimed at the back of her mind but she couldn’t think why.

  ‘That’s the name of the play at the Gaiety, miss,’ Edith spluttered. ‘You know I said they were doing this great reveal?’ Sarah frowned. ‘I told you, miss. Each week they uncovered a bit more of the leading lady on the posters. Well, today it was the final reveal and guess what?’ she squeaked.

  ‘I cannot imagine,’ Sarah replied.

  ‘Well, she was you,’ Edith announced triumphantly.

  ‘Now, now, Edith,’ Sarah chided, shaking her head at the girl’s imagination.

  ‘But it was you,’ she insisted. ‘Pip thought so, too.’

  ‘Must be a coincidence then,’ Sarah smiled. Then a thought struck her. ‘When you said uncovered, you don’t mean she was unclothed, I hope?’

  ‘Oh, miss, you should see your face,’ Edith squawked. ‘No, you’re all right, she’s wearing a right bobby-dazzler of a dress.’

  ‘Thank heavens,’ Sarah murmured. ‘Well, everyone, excitement over, so perhaps you could get on with helping Mrs Daws clean up the kitchen. Oh, and by the way, well done to all of you. The inspector was most impressed by your good behaviour in class.’

  ‘Why didn’t Miss O’Reilly take us this afternoon, miss?’ Ellen asked.

  ‘We likes April, but she doesn’t dell dories,’ June lisped.

  ‘Stories, June,’ Sarah corrected. ‘Now, girls, Miss O’Reilly has had to leave us for a while,’ Sarah told them. Hearing their cries of dismay, she went on quickly, ‘But don’t worry, I’ll be taking you for needlework lessons.’

  ‘But you don’t tell stories of Shanksy either,’ Monday cried.

  ‘Can we make our quilts now?’ Maggie asked. As they all stood looking at her hopefully, Sarah swallowed hard.

  ‘Are you sure you’re ready for such complicated work?’ she asked.

  They nodded enthusiastically.

  ‘Miss said we could do it if we concipated,’ June lisped.

  ‘You mean concentrated,’ Sarah automatically corrected. ‘Well, we’ll give it a go then, shall we?’

  At last the children were in bed and Mrs Daws and Sarah were settled at the kitchen table with their late evening pot of tea. Sarah had just finished explaining about Miss O’Reilly when Harry reappeared. Seeing his dejected face, the housekeeper sighed.

  ‘Not good news then, Master Higgins?’

  He shook his head and slumped into a chair.

  ‘Have a cup of tea, dear. It’ll make you feel better.’

  He nodded his thanks as the woman slid a mug in front of him.

  ‘Her grandmother said she’d packed her bag and left. Claimed she didn’t know where she’d gone. But I don’t know …’ he shrugged. ‘I can’t believe you just let her go like that.’ The accusing look in his eyes left Sarah in no doubt that he placed the blame firmly at her feet.

  ‘What could I do?’ she cried. ‘Mr Mahon made it clear my moral duty was to the pupils.’

  ‘I, for one, don’t believe that kind, sweet girl could be a thief or that she would … well, do that other thing either,’ the housekeeper muttered. Harry realized that was the thing that disturbed him the most. Had she played him for a fool?

  ‘At least Mr Mahon was complimentary about your teaching, Master Higgins, and your housekeeping, too, Mrs Daws,’ Sarah said, trying to lighten the atmosphere. ‘Let’s hope we get that funding.’

  ‘Sounds as if everything else went somewhat better than expected this time around, then,’ Mrs Daws said, sipping her tea. ‘Even if he didn’t want any of my cottage pie. The good doctor must be looking down and smiling that his precious school has been saved.’

  ‘I’m afraid that was the good news, Mrs Daws,’ Sarah sighed. ‘Mr Mahon pointed out that Red Cliffs requires water piped into the house and internal water closets installed.’

  ‘Nobbly Nora,’ the housekeeper muttered, ‘that’ll cost a fortune.’

  ‘Precisely, Mrs Daws,’ Sarah sighed. ‘He also said that cottage schools were thought to be better for orphans and deprived children, although I’m not sure what that involves exactly.’

  ‘Maybe they have to eat cottage pie all the time,’ the housekeeper suggested.

  Harry looked up from his mug and gave a ghost of a smile.

  ‘That could only be good if it were your cottage pie, Mrs Daws. I believe cottage schools have married couples looking after the children in houses, usually on the school grounds. Don’t know any more than that, though,’ he said, sipping his tea and staring moodily into the range.

  ‘I’ll ask Josephine to explain what’s involved when I meet her on Saturday. Being Whitsun weekend, there’s no women’s meeting so we’ll have time for a good talk. In the meantime, it seems I’ll be taking the girls’ classes. They want to begin making their quilts so I’ll get them started and perhaps April could supervise on Saturday afternoon, Mrs Daws?’

  ‘I’ll be busy making my Pentecost cakes, dear, so it’ll be good to have the kitchen to myself. What about you, Master Higgins?’ she added, trying to rouse him from his reverie.

&n
bsp; ‘The vegetable plot’s been a bit neglected while we’ve been concentrating on the new workshops, and the coops need a good clean out, so I’ll get the children seeing to that after classes this week. Then I’ll take the boys, plus Kitty no doubt, to the farm. I don’t know how long Bess is staying with her sister but I don’t want her returning to find her fields looking like a jungle.’

  It had been a hectic week and, for once, Sarah was pleased to be away from the school. Having turned out all the papers in the boxes, to her consternation she still hadn’t found the missing licence and was beginning to wonder if the inspector had been right and her godfather had never applied for one.

  Although the girls had been enthusiastic at the thought of making their quilts, getting them forming a pattern on the sheeting with the brightly coloured strips had proved challenging, to say the least. Whilst Harry had been polite, there was a distance between them and Sarah could tell he still blamed her for letting Miss O’Reilly leave. She felt bad about the way the mistress had been dismissed and had to admit to missing the woman and her cheery ways. Then, in the dark hours of night, her fears for the future of Red Cliffs surfaced, keeping her awake until dawn. There was no way they’d be able to raise the necessary capital to have internal water closets installed. To add insult to injury, only that morning she had received a letter from Fothergill informing her that one of the developers had raised his offer to an eye-popping amount.

  Now, walking briskly along the seafront, she breathed deeply of the salty air and raised her face to the sunshine. The promenade was thronging with visitors, and paddle steamers were busy plying their trade. As seagulls screeched overhead and children played happily on the sands, Sarah felt her spirits lifting.

  Josephine was already waiting at their usual table in the window of the little café. Mindful of her meeting with Bertram later, Sarah ordered a pot of tea but declined anything to eat.

  ‘Goodness, Sarah, it’s not like you to refuse a Chudleigh,’ Josephine remarked, as she spread cream liberally over her cake.

  ‘Actually, I’ve been invited to afternoon tea at the Grand Hotel later,’ she admitted.

  ‘Not with Bertram J. Brightling, by any chance?’ Josephine asked. As Sarah felt the colour rush to her cheeks, her friend laughed. ‘Why that’s wonderful. You do know he’s the writer and producer of that new play opening at the Gaiety tonight?’ Sarah stared at her friend in surprise, but she was in full flow. ‘It’s called Dainty Feet, and do you know what?’

  ‘What?’ asked Sarah, her cup still poised mid-air.

  ‘The woman on the poster poses a remarkable resemblance to you.’

  ‘Really?’ Sarah replied, recalling Edith had said the same thing. She’d been meaning to take a look but Edith had sought permission to go to the theatre early to help with last-minute alterations, so Pip had dropped her off in the trap. Before she could ask any questions, her friend had turned the conversation to the inspection.

  ‘I hear that you had to dispense with your travelling school mistress.’

  ‘Yes, and I do feel bad about that. I admit Miss O’Reilly’s testimonial was sparse in detail but I still find it hard to believe she was a thief. Master Higgins is adamant I shouldn’t have let her go.’

  ‘From what I hear, Mr Mahon didn’t leave you much choice. I must admit, I find the accusations that have come to light quite at variance with the opinion I formed of her. I could make some enquiries, if you like?’

  ‘Oh, would you?’ Sarah cried. ‘That would be helpful. The children love her and none of us can believe what has been said about her. On another matter, Mr Mahon mentioned cottage schools. What can you tell me about them?’

  ‘They’re based on a family principle with groups of orphans living under the supervision of house parents. It has been proven that children thrive better in a home-like environment, which gives them a free and more natural mode of life than all being under one roof. Oops, sorry, no reflection on Red Cliffs. You do a wonderful job in strained circumstances.’

  ‘Thank you and I take it you are referring to our lack of internal facilities?’

  Josephine nodded. ‘I would be lying if I didn’t admit to finding out how your inspection went.’

  ‘Going back to cottage schools, surely it is expensive employing all those teachers?’ Sarah frowned.

  ‘Oh, they’re not all teachers, Sarah. House parents are employed to run the homes and receive a modest wage as board and lodging is provided. The idea is for the children to receive nurturing in a family environment. The schoolmaster and mistress still take lessons in the normal way. I can dig out some details if you’re interested.’

  ‘If you would, I’d be most grateful.’ Sarah glanced at the clock on the wall and frowned. ‘I’m so sorry, I must dash. Thank you so much for your advice.’

  ‘My pleasure. I’ll bring that information to our women’s meeting next week. Now hurry along, you mustn’t keep the illustrious Bertram waiting,’ she grinned.

  37

  Harry watched as the children weeded the rows of vegetables that Jim had planted before he died. Although the sun was shining from a cloudless sky, his heart felt leaden and he couldn’t help remembering the last time he’d been here. Everything had seemed brighter with Sheena by his side.

  ‘I’m just going to check on the house,’ he called. ‘Solomon, take charge.’

  ‘Will do,’ he grinned. ‘You ’ear that, Kitty? You got to do as I say,’ he teased.

  ‘More chance of ’ell freezing over,’ she snorted, rolling her eyes. Despite himself, Harry couldn’t help smiling at their banter. They’d struck up the most unlikely friendship, which had helped them both recover from their traumas. Solomon was a far cry from the surly, unhappy lad he’d been when he’d first arrived at Red Cliffs and Kitty had regained her strength and lost her haunted look, although she had no idea where her brother was and fretted about him.

  Deep in thought, Harry arrived at the farmhouse almost without realizing it. He was just taking a look around the empty rooms when he heard hooves and the rattle of wheels. Looking out of the window he saw a cab draw up outside. As the driver jumped down to help the passenger, a collie gave a joyous bark.

  ‘Welcome home, Bess,’ Harry said, throwing open the door.

  ‘Thank you, Harry. And what a lovely surprise.’ As the driver carried her things inside, the collie circled the room excitedly. ‘Silly old fool,’ she muttered.

  ‘Sorry, ma’am?’ the driver said.

  ‘Not you, the dog,’ Bess laughed, handing over coins for her fare.

  ‘Right obliged, ma’am,’ he replied, tipping his hat.

  When he’d left, Harry turned to Bess. ‘How are you?’ he asked.

  ‘Mustn’t grumble,’ she smiled, staring around the kitchen. ‘Though truth to tell, I can’t decide if coming back was a good idea. My memories are here yet I feel just like that blessings candle Miss O’Reilly made me. The wick’s there but the flame’s gone out,’ she sighed, patting the collie’s head.

  Harry nodded, knowing what she meant.

  ‘How about you, Harry? I saw the children busy in the fields when I passed by. They seemed happy as larks but I have to say you’re looking a mite peaky.’ She eyed him anxiously.

  ‘It’s been a busy time, what with the inspection and things.’

  ‘Go well, did it?’ she asked, collapsing into her chair by the range and patting the one alongside. As he sank into it, he shook his head.

  ‘Still waiting for the official report but it appears Red Cliffs needs internal plumbing installed if we’re to stay open.’

  ‘I never appreciated what a difference modern conveniences could make until I stayed with Alice. It was bliss not having to go outside for water and you know, but I guess it’s an expensive business,’ she said sagely.

  ‘You’ve hit the nail on the proverbial head, as always, Bess,’ he replied. ‘Anyway, I need to tell you what’s been going on here in your absence. I regret to say that your barn was used
to store stolen goods and …’

  ‘I know, lad. Sergeant Watts was waiting at the station,’ she interrupted him. ‘Pompous little man made out he’d single-handedly ensnared a notorious gang of thieves who’d stolen the crown jewels. By the time I winkled the true story out of him it was something of an anticlimax,’ Bess chuckled. ‘Heard you got your things back, though.’

  ‘We did, although not Mrs Daws’ precious gong. Solomon’s father’s watch was retrieved, though. You wouldn’t believe the difference it made to the boy.’

  ‘Real treasure is priceless,’ Bess replied. ‘And I’m glad for him. To lose his father and home like that was terrible. Still, if any other gems come to light I’ll donate them to the Red Cliffs’ convenience fund,’ she said, patting his hand.

  As rays of the afternoon sunlight filtered through the window, they lapsed into companionable silence. Then Bess stared around her room again.

  ‘I can’t believe how spotless everywhere is. You must have worked hard.’

  ‘Can’t take credit for in here, Bess. That was down to Miss O’Reilly and Kitty.’

  ‘That’s kind of them. Is that lovely Miss O’Reilly with you …’

  ‘Bess, Bess, you’re home.’ The door flew open and Kitty came bounding in, followed by the others. ‘We saw the cab and picked these to welcome you,’ she added, holding out a bunch of wild flowers.

  ‘Why, thank you,’ Bess whispered.

  ‘Miss laid the fire for you. Come on, Solomon, you light it while I put these in water. Brown and Black, you go and fill the kettle; I’m sure Bess is parched. Bunter, you set the tray.’

  ‘My, my, Kitty, I see you’re back and haven’t you grown up?’ Bess laughed. ‘You’ll find provisions in my bag on the table, dears. Alice sent me off with a goodly supply of her spiced biscuits.’ Their faces lit up and, as they sped about their tasks, Bess turned to Kitty. ‘I must thank you for keeping my home so spotless.’

  ‘Miss and me did the dairy, too. It’ll just be me ’elping now miss has gone.’

  As Bess frowned and looked askance at Harry, he turned to the children.

  ‘Right, you lot, we’ll get Bess settled then we must be getting back. I’ll explain another time, Bess,’ he added quietly.