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Orphans and Angels

Page 33

by Linda Finlay


  She gave him a knowing look. ‘I’d like to thank you and Miss Sullivan for all you’ve done whilst I’ve been away, so perhaps you’d both like to come to supper, say on Thursday? I’ll cook something nice and we can have a chat then.’

  ‘Good afternoon, dear lady,’ Bertram greeted Sarah with his customary bow as she slid into the chair opposite. ‘You are looking as charming as ever.’

  ‘With my dainty feet, you mean?’ she asked, suddenly recalling why Edith’s words had struck a bell.

  ‘I mean all of you,’ he smiled. ‘Now, I hope you don’t mind, but as I have a rather important engagement later, I’ve taken the liberty of ordering.’

  As if on cue, the waitress appeared with a tray of afternoon fare. Sarah waited until she’d poured their tea and departed before turning to Bertram.

  ‘It seems to me you’ve taken rather a lot of liberties lately.’ He furrowed his brow uncertainly. ‘I’ve been told the posters of that new play, Dainty Feet, bear a resemblance to myself,’ Sarah said.

  ‘Ah, dear lady, have I not been trying to explain that it is you who has been my muse? The moment I first set eyes upon you, I knew you were the one.’

  ‘You did?’ she gasped, nearly spilling her tea in surprise.

  ‘I have thought about you, dreamed about you, poured out my innermost thoughts onto the page. You have changed my entire life, dear lady.’ As his ardent speech came to an end, Sarah was struck dumb. Then, realizing he was waiting for her to say something, she pulled herself together.

  ‘Goodness, I had no idea,’ she finally managed to say.

  ‘Well, I’m too excited to eat a morsel right now,’ he replied. ‘I’ve been wanting to share this with you for an absolute age, and now we really should celebrate.’

  ‘We should?’

  ‘Of course, dear lady. Look, if you don’t want anything more, why don’t I drive you home? You can make yourself beautiful … er, I mean change into something more glamorous and we’ll paint the town red after the show.’

  ‘Oh, but …’ she began, her mind spinning like crazy.

  He smiled and put up his hand. ‘I know you’re desperate to see the play. And, you will, I promise. However, first nights are nerve-racking as it is, and knowing you were in the audience, I wouldn’t be able to concentrate on a single thing. So please bear with me, dear lady,’ he said, getting to his feet and proffering his arm.

  Sarah didn’t notice a thing on the journey home. She couldn’t stop thinking about Bertram’s declaration. Then he was drawing up at the gates.

  ‘That is such a property, Sarah, and it would make a lovely home,’ he said, staring at her hopefully.

  ‘Even if it requires water to be piped inside and internal water closets fitted?’

  ‘I am prepared to pay the same, if not more than the highest offer you have received. I can just picture us in it,’ he sighed, staring at the house once more.

  ‘What? You can?’ Sarah gasped, staring at him in surprise.

  He nodded, then collected himself. ‘Now, dear lady, I must away. The show must go on,’ he cried, waving his hand in the air theatrically. ‘Whilst you were retrieving your coat, I took the liberty of reserving a table in the restaurant so we can celebrate in style. Could we meet there?’ he asked.

  Still stunned by what he’d said, she shook her head, then noticed he was frowning. ‘Sorry, Bertram, there’s so much to take in,’ she murmured.

  ‘Well, when Bertram makes up his mind about something, then he makes it happen, just like that,’ he replied, snapping his fingers.

  ‘I see,’ she said, her eyes widening as she took in his determined look. ‘I’ll use the trap,’ she added, trying to pull herself together.

  ‘In the meantime, I beg you to give my proposal favourable consideration, dear lady.’

  ‘Rest assured I shall be able to think of nothing else,’ she assured him. ‘Now, break a leg, isn’t that what you say in the theatre?’

  Smiling at the thought of the evening ahead, Sarah made her way through to the office. An official-looking envelope had been placed in a prominent place on her desk. Recognizing the writing, she sank apprehensively into the chair and scanned the contents.

  Dear Miss Sullivan,

  Please find below the findings of the inspection carried out on Monday 20 May:

  1. Condition of the temporary repairs to roof and fabric of building satisfactory.

  2. The teaching and welfare of the pupils satisfactory.

  3. Miss O’Reilly’s terms of employment unsatisfactory and revoked.

  4. The new workshop facilities satisfactory and funding is hereby granted for the additional skills training of metalworking and woodturning.

  5. In line with Local Authority standards, you are hereby granted twelve months to arrange for water to be piped into the property and the installation of water closets.

  An inspection of the new facilities to be arranged nearer the time.

  However, failure to produce the licence granted for use of the premises as a school is a serious matter. As proprietress of Red Cliffs, you are required to make an appointment to attend the premises listed above at your earliest convenience.

  Yours sincerely,

  K. Mahon, Esq.

  Chief Inspector

  Sarah sat back in her chair and reflected on the letter. They’d been granted the extra funding so Harry’s hard work hadn’t been in vain. Everything apart from the licence had proven satisfactory. Surely that was a matter that could be easily rectified? They would have to employ another travelling mistress, but in the meantime, she was happy teaching the girls. Money for the installation of new facilities, however, was another matter.

  Of course, Bertram had mentioned purchasing the property and if she accepted, then that would undoubtedly solve that problem. Yet his proposal coming out of the blue like that had taken the wind out of her sails and she’d hardly had time to think things through. An image of his piercing blue eyes and the special way he looked at her surfaced and sent butterflies skittering round her stomach. That the dashing Bertram J. Brightling should be interested in someone as ordinary as her was astonishing. Closing her eyes, she tried to imagine Red Cliffs as an updated home. She wouldn’t be selling to a developer and the house would still operate as a school, of course. Added to that, the pupils would benefit from the modern facilities. Surely her godfather would approve?

  But what about you, Sarah? His voice came out of the blue and her eyes flew open in surprise.

  Perhaps we could turn a couple of rooms into a private suite, she replied.

  You always did run before you could walk, Sarah. Remember the motto.

  Love Never Faileth? Well, that’s appropriate, isn’t it? Sarah smiled.

  It is, Sarah, believe you me, it is. Think everything through very carefully, Sarah. Very carefully indeed. The whispered voice faded away.

  Uncle? she called. But there was no reply and she knew he’d gone.

  Frowning, she went back over the detail. Of course, she would have liked more time to get to know Bertram better before his sudden declaration. But that could only mean he was sure of his feelings. As for her own, well, fondness could turn deeper with time, couldn’t it? And if she were to accept, the future of the school and its pupils would be assured. They hadn’t discussed arrangements for the pupils whilst the work was taking place but she could ask Bertram about that tonight. And, of course, he would have to understand that acceptance of his proposal would not mean her turning into the little wife at home. Her belief in women’s rights meant too much to her for that.

  As she was placing the letter safely in her drawer, her hand brushed against Mrs Knight’s tome. Perhaps she could glean some words of wisdom from it. A glance at the clock on the mantel showed there was just time for a quick read before getting ready for her dinner date. As she flicked through it, just as she’d come to expect, the page fell open at a certain page.

  ‘I’m sure you’re guiding me, Dorothy Knight,’ she mu
rmured.

  Twelfth Principle: Loyalty

  There is no place in business for misplaced loyalty. What worked in the past may not be the best way forward at this juncture. Should suppliers be complacent in their dealings with you, ask for better trading conditions and if these are not forthcoming, take your custom elsewhere. Customers expect to receive the best service and you should, too.

  Thirteenth Principle: Reassessment

  Follows on from the previous principle. No business can thrive without reassessment. No matter how busy, you cannot afford not to take the time to review your current practices and ensure you have moved with the times. Do not remain in the past.

  Fourteenth Principle: Trust Your Instinct

  If something seems too good to be true, then it probably is. Proceed with caution. Ask questions, listen to answers but always keep your powder dry.

  What a strange thing to write, she thought as the clock tinkled the hour, jolting her back to the present. Realizing she hadn’t checked all was well with the pupils, she hastily slid the book back into her drawer. ‘Sorry, Dorothy, I don’t think you’ve helped me this time. I don’t even wear powder,’ she murmured.

  ‘Something smells delicious, Mrs Daws,’ Sarah said, sniffing the air appreciatively, as she entered the kitchen. Having eaten nothing at both luncheon and afternoon tea, she was starving.

  ‘Eggs and bacon, no less,’ the housekeeper said proudly.

  ‘Smells divine, and what a treat. Has everything been all right whilst I’ve been out?’

  ‘It has. I made my Pentecost cakes for tomorrow. The children are all eating. Goodness, Miss Sullivan, you should see those boys’ appetites when they return from the farm. Ah, here’s Master Higgins. I was just saying they’re eating us out of house and home,’ she added, nodding her head towards the dining hall. ‘Good job you got them ’ens. I don’t know what we’d do without the extra eggs.’

  Harry and Sarah exchanged amused glances.

  ‘Good afternoon?’ he asked.

  ‘It was until I read the letter from Mr Mahon,’ she sighed. ‘The good news is that the new workshops passed muster and funding’s been granted for the new training.’

  ‘And the bad?’

  ‘We’ve twelve months to have water piped in and the internal water closets installed.’

  ‘Well, we expected that,’ he shrugged philosophically.

  ‘Yes, but the crux of the matter is that I’ve to see Mr Mahon about not being able to produce the licence,’ Sarah said.

  ‘I’ve been thinking about that licence issue,’ Harry replied. ‘Surely it would have been granted to Samuel in his name. Now you’re proprietress, they probably require you to have one in your name.’

  ‘I hadn’t thought of that,’ Sarah replied, her spirits lifting again. ‘Thank you, Harry. That’s made feel a whole lot better.’

  ‘Good. Never say die and all that. By the way, Bess is back.’

  ‘How is she?’ Sarah asked.

  ‘Feeling a bit lost, I think. Anyway, she wants to thank us for looking after things while she was away and has invited us to supper on Thursday.’

  ‘How kind. It will be nice to see her again. Talking of food, I’m dining at the Grand tonight and will be taking the trap.’

  ‘The Grand, eh?’ Harry whistled. ‘Well, you’d best go and put your glad rags on.’

  ‘I must admit to being excited,’ Sarah smiled, her insides glowing at the thought of the celebration ahead. ‘Especially as when I return, I shall probably have some news for you.’

  Bertram was waiting in the comfortable lounge when she arrived. His face was flushed and she guessed the play had gone well.

  ‘Sarah, dear lady, how charming you look,’ he said, rising to his feet. ‘Will you join me in a glass of champagne before we dine?’ Sarah noticed the bottle in the ice bucket was already half empty and concluded he’d begun celebrating before her arrival.

  ‘Thank you,’ she replied, and paused whilst the waiter poured. ‘Your play was a success, I take it?’

  ‘It was,’ he cried. ‘And now, dear lady, we must celebrate. Here’s to us,’ he added, raising his glass and clinking it against hers. Sarah smiled and took a sip. She’d never tasted champagne before and wasn’t sure if she would like it.

  ‘Now, I do hope you have thought over my proposal,’ Bertram continued, leaning closer to her.

  ‘Indeed, I have. Before I accept, though, I need to clarify your intentions regarding the pupils.’

  ‘Sorry, dear lady, I don’t quite understand,’ he replied, frowning.

  ‘You must understand that the welfare of all the children at Red Cliffs is paramount and before I can accept your marriage proposal, Bertram, I need to …’ She came to a halt as he nearly choked on his drink.

  ‘Marriage? Who said anything about matrimony?’ he spluttered, looking at Sarah as though she’d grown an extra head.

  ‘But you said your life had changed since you met me and that Red Cliffs would make a lovely home,’ Sarah replied.

  ‘My dear lady, you have completely misunderstood me. Look, I think you’re wonderful and you have provided the perfect muse. However, when I said I had met someone special, I was referring to a fellow thespian. My proposal was for purchasing Red Cliffs so that my new friend, Ollie, and I could set up home. You see … well, we … marriage between us is out of the question.’ As she remembered the effusive actor she’d met in the theatre’s dressing room, everything clicked into place. Feeling mortified, she jumped to her feet.

  ‘If you wish to purchase Red Cliffs, Bertram, then you may contact my solicitor. However, you will have to prove you intend living in it. Red Cliffs is not for sale as a development project. I promised my godfather on his deathbed that his precious home would never be turned into a hotel and I intend to honour that,’ she said, opening her reticule and taking out a card. ‘Here are my solicitor’s details. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must be going.’

  38

  ‘There’s a letter for you, Master Higgins,’ the housekeeper said, when he came out of the dining hall with Sarah on Tuesday morning.

  ‘Thank you, Mrs Daws,’ he replied, holding out his hand.

  ‘It’s got all fancy writing on the envelope and “c/o” in front of “Red Cliffs Ragged School”. Here, we ain’t gone all co-operative like the shops, have we?’

  ‘No, Mrs Daws, we haven’t,’ Sarah assured the woman.

  ‘Well, Mrs Laver was saying a whole bunch of them girls are coming down to Torquay for a holiday later this year. Fancy that, eh?’

  ‘Tourism is certainly booming around here. Perhaps we’re in the wrong line of business, Master Higgins,’ Sarah said, turning to Harry, but he was frowning at the envelope in the housekeeper’s hand.

  ‘ “C/o” stands for “care of”, Mrs Daws. Now please may I have my letter?’ Harry asked, trying to curb his impatience.

  ‘Well, I hope it’s good news ’cos you’ve been going round with a face like sour cream since Miss O’Reilly left,’ she said, shooting him a knowing look as she handed it over.

  ‘I’ll be in the school room,’ he replied, ignoring her comment.

  ‘Well, charmed I’m sure,’ the housekeeper sniffed. ‘And you’re not much better, Miss Sullivan, if you don’t mind me saying.’

  ‘Lots to think about if we’re to keep this place going, Mrs Daws,’ Sarah replied, gesturing around the room. In truth, she was still smarting from her altercation with Bertram, but felt too stupid to discuss the matter with anyone. She only hoped it wouldn’t deter him from putting in an offer for the property, though. Loath as she was to sell, she was beginning to realize there was no other way for the school to survive. There was absolutely no possibility they could raise enough money to pay for the new facilities required. At least this way she could keep her promise to her godfather that his house wouldn’t be developed into a plush hotel. ‘I’ll be in my office,’ she added, as the children swarmed into the kitchen ready to help with the day’s cho
res.

  Shutting the door behind him, Harry tore open the envelope. He’d recognized the writing and now his heart was hammering like a steam train.

  Dear Harry

  Please forgive me for leaving without saying goodbye. When the inspector placed Miss Sullivan in that awkward situation, my first thought was to spare her any further embarrassment.

  To my shame, I admit my testimonial had more holes than Mammy’s knitting. But there was a reason for this, one which I should have sorted before leaving Ireland. I like to think I would have done, had Nanna not had that fall. But I have to be honest and admit that, being as green as the hills of home, I may have taken the easy way out.

  Anyway, I am now returned to Ireland to rectify this, better late than never, I hear you say. When my name is cleared, and only then, I will return and give you the explanation you deserve.

  In the meantime, dear Harry, please do not think too badly of me for I find myself missing you so very much.

  Yours most sincerely,

  Sheena O’Reilly

  She misses me! She’s coming back! Harry’s heart flipped at the thought. Sheena hadn’t just disappeared and left him dangling like a spare rope.

  His musing was interrupted by the door opening. Solomon peered in then beckoned to the others, who, mindful of the master’s recent mood, filed quietly into the room.

  ‘Good morning, girls and boys. Is this not a grand day?’ he greeted them.

  ‘Cripes, he sounds just like Miss O’Reilly,’ Kitty murmured.

  Sarah stared at the plaque on the wall.

  Love Never Faileth, eh, Uncle? Well, we certainly need some of that. I can’t think of any way to keep this place running now we have to update the facilities. I’m sorry, Uncle, for I know how much this old house meant to you, but times have changed. Be assured I’m still determined not to sell to a developer. A place that’s been used as a refuge for waifs being turned into some fancy hotel for the idle rich is too ironic to bear. I’m hopeful that Bertram will purchase Red Cliffs so that it can stay a family home, although his meaning of ‘family’ is somewhat different to ours. Oh, Uncle, please show me this is the correct way forward, she pleaded.

 

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