The Puppy and the Orphan

by Suzanne Lambert

  Nancy had no idea how long the fun on the train went on for. They travelled round the moon, visited the zoo, journeyed to the other side of the world – the train crossed the seas on enchanted railway tracks – then whizzed up a mountain and whooshed down the other side. The excitement of the children echoed off the walls as they sang and called out where they wanted to go next.

  It was the frantic ringing of a bell that brought Nancy to her senses. In the dining room a dumb-waiter lift carried food from the kitchen. Cook would ring the bell downstairs to let everyone know breakfast was ready and Nancy would pull a rope to bring up the food. Cook had been ringing furiously for a good half-hour and was now extremely angry. The breakfast would be getting cold, and with lunch to prepare she was not going to heat it again. Now the ringing of the bell could be heard all around the house.

  Mother Superior, who was in the chapel, raised her head and wondered what on earth was going on. She’d thought she’d heard a whistle blowing earlier and a bell ringing. Now she heard the bell again and sighed as she left the chapel to find out what was happening.

  At the same time Sister Mary Joseph was running along the corridor, shouting to Nancy that Cook was ringing the bell and sounded very angry. Nancy simply laughed. ‘Look at their little faces, Sister. See how happy they all are.’ Sister Mary Joseph and Nancy looked at Billy, who sat at the front of the train as the children called out destinations. He would then blow the whistle, signalling their departure on a new journey. His eyes were bright, his cheeks glowing, yet still he hadn’t said much. ‘It’s an improvement, Nancy,’ Sister Mary Joseph said. ‘Now, please can we get the children to breakfast?’

  The children were not happy to have their game interrupted but one by one they were shepherded into the dining room for their Christmas breakfast. Each of the little tables was decorated with tinsel and naturally more pandemonium ensued when they realised that all their chairs, which made up the train, were still in the corridor. ‘You take the children to get the chairs, Sister, while I bring up the breakfast before Cook blows a gasket.’ She laughed, but little Billy began to cry and then the others were joining in.

  ‘We don’t want to spoil our train, Aunty Nancy,’ they cried in unison. It was at this point Mother Superior arrived. Never in the history of Nazareth House had she seen the nursery department in such disarray.

  ‘Nancy?’ she asked questioningly.

  ‘Hush, children, please,’ said Nancy, sternly, and they turned to look at her.

  Mother gazed at Sister Mary Joseph. ‘Well?’

  ‘Mother, Nancy saved the day. You see, we made a train.’

  ‘A train?’

  ‘With the chairs from the dining room. Oh, Mother, you must come and see.’

  ‘Oh, yes, please do, Mother,’ the children chorused. ‘Please come and see our train. It’s so special and Billy’s the driver.’

  Nancy was watching Mother, who looked over at her now. She nodded at Nancy, smiled, then turned back to the children, who were standing still, waiting. ‘Very well, children,’ she said. ‘Let’s see this special train of yours.’

  The children didn’t need telling twice and all ran ahead, Nancy shouting at them not to run, without success.

  Nancy turned to Mother. ‘I can explain.’

  Mother took her hands. ‘Please don’t, my dear, there is no need, but I do think we should bring up the breakfast before Cook explodes.’

  Nancy ran back to the dining room and shouted down the lift’s hatch, ‘Morning, Cook! Happy Christmas.’

  ‘Don’t blame me, Nancy Harmer, if lunch is an hour late. That’s all I can say,’ she shouted back.

  ‘It’s Christmas Day and, for once, I’m going to break with tradition, Mother,’ said Nancy. She was piling toast onto plates to carry down for the children to eat aboard the Ragdoll Express.

  ‘Billy must have been thrilled, Nancy.’

  ‘Oh, Mother, his face was a picture. I’ve never seen him look so happy.’

  ‘Is he talking?’

  ‘Not quite yet, Mother.’

  Mother sighed. ‘God will show us a way to help him. Now we had better feed the children.’

  As the snow fell on Nazareth House Orphanage that Christmas Day, the children played happily on the train, visiting places that existed only in their imaginations. It was an incredible day. Everything ran late for the first time ever. Nancy didn’t care.

  Before lunch the children were taken into the playroom where they fell eagerly upon the doll’s house and bikes, while Nancy and some young girls who were helping her that day cleared the corridor and prepared the dining room for Christmas lunch.

  By teatime the children were all rather hot and bothered. The younger ones were crying and Nancy thought that the excitement had been too much for them and decided on early baths. At six thirty they were all settled in bed and even Nancy was yawning. There were cries of ‘Goodnight, Aunty Nancy,’ as she reached to switch off the light.

  Nancy made her way to the television room and popped her head round the door. The set was switched on but her young helpers were fast asleep. Nancy went to the kitchen to make herself a pot of tea, which she took to her room. Sitting down, she closed her eyes for a moment and wondered what it was about Christmas that made everything seem magical. She saw in her mind’s eye the children having fun. It had been a perfect day, and they would never forget it. At least, she hoped not. Once more she wondered what life held in store for them. Would they remember her? Would she grow old and forget them? Never, she thought. The cup of good strong tea on the table in front of her began to grow cold as her head nodded.

  She was woken suddenly by a child screaming and jumped up, knocking over the cold tea. She grabbed the tablecloth and dabbed at the spill, then heard more voices shouting. She dropped the cloth and ran out of her room, down the corridor. ‘I’m on my way, children,’ she called, slightly out of breath, then stopped as she reached the dormitory.

  The sight that met her eyes rendered her speechless. Nancy was completely dumbfounded.

  The children had managed to push the heavy sash window up just enough for them to put their heads out and they were yelling towards the sky. Billy was at the front, shouting the loudest.

  Twice Nancy tried to speak and failed. Eventually, she found her voice and yelled louder than any of the children. ‘Children, what in God’s name are you all doing, hanging out of the window?’ She hurried across and tried to drag them inside so that she could close the window.

  ‘Don’t close the window! They won’t be able to hear me!’

  ‘Please, Aunty Nancy, Billy says we have to make them hear.’

  Nancy looked around the room at the children, her eyes finally resting on Billy. ‘Very well. If you can tell me all about it, I won’t close the window,’ she said, sitting down on a chair as the children gathered round her. They all began talking at once. ‘Stop,’ Nancy said. She reached out and lifted Billy onto her knee. ‘I believe this is your story, Billy, and if you want that window left open I’m afraid you’re going to have to tell me what you told the children.’

  ‘Go on, Billy,’ the children said. ‘Tell Aunty Nancy what you told us.’

  Nancy cuddled him close and almost held her breath. There was total silence in the dormitory and the cold winter breeze ruffled the curtains as they all waited.

  Billy looked at Nancy, then at the window again. Nancy asked Tommy to turn the light off and in the darkness they all turned towards the dark night sky.

  ‘My mummy and daddy are stars in the sky,’ he whispered.

  Nancy gulped back tears as she saw all the little faces looking up at her. ‘My mummy and daddy died and then they were stars in the sky, and I thought if I shouted really loud they might be able to hear me. I know they could hear me out of my bedroom window at home. Mummy told me that Christmas is magic and I thought that because it was Christmas this might be the day they could hear me and call back. Aunty Nancy, I don’t know if these are the same stars as ou
t of my window at home and I might have to shout even louder. Can they really hear me?’ The words came tumbling out until Billy fell silent.

  Nancy shivered as she, too, gazed up at the stars. ‘Into bed, children, before you all catch pneumonia,’ she said, and slowly the children, with disappointed faces, returned to their beds and waited.

  Nancy continued to look out of the window so the children could not see the tears in her eyes. There was, once more, complete silence in the room as they lay in their beds, wanting to believe that somewhere out in the midnight sky their parents waited to hear them call so they could send their love back to them.

  ‘It’s true, children,’ Nancy told them. ‘When we love someone and they love us back, we’re surrounded by something called for-ever magic. That means that no matter where those we love go to, no matter how far away it is, their love is still with us, and if we close our eyes, we can feel it always.’

  ‘Can my mummy hear me?’

  ‘Oh, yes, Lucy, darling. She can see you, hear you and be with you in your heart every time you call her.’

  ‘Does God let them see us sometimes, do you think, Aunty Nancy?’

  ‘Oh, yes, Martha, I’m quite sure He does.’

  ‘I like going to the stars on the train, Aunty Nancy. Can we do it again tomorrow?’

  ‘We’ll see, Billy. Settle down now, children.’

  ‘Do you think just for tonight you could leave the window open in case they want to call to us?’

  ‘Well, just for a little while longer,’ Nancy said, feeling choked. ‘I shall sit here with you.’

  ‘Will you sing us to sleep, please, Aunty Nancy?’

  Nancy went to sit beside the window and leaned on the sill as she looked up at the sky. It was the clearest of nights and the sky was particularly beautiful. Very softly she began to sing:

  ‘To reach the stars and back again,

  Jump aboard the Ragdoll train.

  Whisper ready, wait, and then

  Close your eyes and count to ten.

  Make a wish to make it start,

  Then place your hand upon your heart.

  Imagination, not too much,

  A pinch of magic, just a touch.

  Then suddenly the whistle blows,

  A toot and then away it goes,

  Beyond the clouds and past the stars,

  Around the moon, then twice round Mars.

  Sing out loud, then shout hooray

  While spinning round the Milky Way.

  There’s Christmas magic all around.

  Listen now, don’t make a sound,

  For in the sky so high above

  A place exists that’s filled with love.

  Believe they’re there and when you do

  That’s when you’ll hear them calling you.

  Sweetly you will hear them call,

  Sending kisses to you all.

  Feel their lips upon your cheek

  To bring the comfort that you seek.

  Then feel that spark inside your heart

  That says you’ll never be apart.

  As long as you see just one star,

  They’ll hear your cries, it’s not that far.

  Listen well for that’s not all,

  Often you may hear them call,

  “Little ones, we love you still.

  We always did, we always will.”

  Bless you, children, come again.

  Just jump aboard the Ragdoll train.’

  Nancy shivered. She looked at the children, listened to their gentle breathing as they slipped into their world of dreams, and smiled. Well, stars or not, this window would have to be closed and locked securely. Nancy looked up once more at the stars, then pulled the window down firmly. She tiptoed quietly across the room and paused briefly in the doorway to look back into the dormitory.

  She glanced towards the window and frowned. I’m getting fanciful, she thought. I could swear I heard a dog barking in the garden.

  Michael and Jennifer

  Jennifer looked in the mirror, thrilled with her new hairdo. It had been a Christmas present from Michael. ‘A treat for you,’ he told her, ‘to cheer you up.’ It would take more than a hair appointment to do that but she was determined to make an effort this Christmas after the horrors of last year. Michael was so sweet, and Jennifer knew how lucky she was: everyone had told her so until she was sick of hearing it. She had known he was the one for her from the moment they’d met.

  Jennifer sat on the edge of her bed and looked at the wedding photograph on her bedside table. Three years they had been married, and it had been perfect except for the one thing that threatened to ruin it all.

  Jennifer remembered the first time she’d danced with Michael. That day she had left work with her friend Julia and they’d hurried home to get ready for the local dance, which started at seven o’clock. Jennifer was so excited – she couldn’t wait to wear her new dress and shoes. The dress was blue with little white spots and a bow at the back. She had new nylons and a pair of stunning stilettos too. ‘We’ll be the belles of the ball,’ Julia had said, laughing, ‘and naturally we’ll have the pick of the boys.’

  Jennifer said nothing. She was remembering the boy she had seen a few weeks ago at the dance hall. He had caught her staring at him. Jennifer had immediately blushed. Then he winked and turned away. That had been it. No dancing, no chatting, just a wink, and her heart had done a double flip. She had looked for him every week but never seen him again.

  Julia broke into her daydream. ‘You, young lady, are going to dance instead of spending the whole night looking for your winking man. Anyway, he was a good bit older than us. I want to have lots and lots of fun tonight.’ With that she swung Jennifer round and they laughed. They saw the trolley bus in the distance – ‘Run!’ shouted Julia, and together they ran.

  They chatted about the dance all the way home, until Jennifer got off, calling, ‘See you later.’

  Mum had driven her crazy that night, making her stop to eat tea when all she wanted to do was get ready to go out. He would be there tonight, Jennifer just knew it. At six thirty she was in her new dress and shoes. She even had an early Christmas present from Mum, a pretty handbag that matched her shoes perfectly. It was a cold evening but Jennifer was too excited to care. She hurried to join Julia in the queue outside the dance hall and, after many compliments to each other on how lovely they looked, Jennifer glanced around.

  ‘Stop it,’ shouted Julia. ‘What did I tell you? Tonight we’re going to dance with lots of boys and thoroughly enjoy ourselves. The music will be brilliant and we, yes we, Jennifer, we are going to enjoy ourselves.’

  The dance had been in full swing for a good half-hour when Jennifer was dragged onto the dance floor by a boy she had seen a few times before. Might as well, she thought. He isn’t coming. I probably won’t see him again. She laughed as she saw Julia being swung around the floor.

  Her partner said something, but she couldn’t hear him over the noise. ‘Sorry, what was that?’ she shouted, but he grabbed her hand and together they began to dance. Jennifer realised she was beginning to enjoy herself. The boy was spinning her around when suddenly she glimpsed the winking man. She stopped too quickly, lost her balance and the man reached out to grab her. ‘Hey,’ her partner said, ‘she was dancing with me.’

  Michael had smiled and said simply, ‘Not any more, I’m afraid. This young lady is all mine.’ He had taken her hand, and a thrill ran through her. He put his arm around her waist and she held her breath. The music started up once more, and he smiled, then swung her around and around, and Jennifer was dancing and laughing. Never in her whole life had she felt such happiness. This was simply going to be the best Christmas ever.

  They stayed together the whole evening, and at the end, he walked her to the edge of the dance floor and pointed upwards to where the mistletoe hung. ‘Be rude not to,’ he said, then leaned forward to kiss her. Jennifer thought her knees were going to give way but he held her so close tha
t she couldn’t have fallen.

  They had met again on Boxing Day and Michael told Jennifer about his work as a railway apprentice, a job he loved. ‘I’m going right to the top,’ he said. He and his parents, Judith and William, lived in Jesmond and he was their only son. ‘I was a late baby,’ he told her, ‘so I’m afraid I’ve been very spoiled.’ Jennifer frowned. ‘Just kidding,’ he said, laughing. ‘My parents are wonderful people and they’ll love you just as much as I do.’ There, he had said it. He loved her. Sometimes it just happened that way, she supposed. The fact that he was eight years old than Jennifer, who was twenty-two, didn’t matter to her in the least.

  He was the one, and Jennifer was walking on cloud nine from that day. A year later, Jennifer and her mum and dad, Alfie and Peggy, were invited to Michael’s parents for lunch on Christmas Day. Her mum had made such a fuss: what to wear, what to say, what not to say. After all, if they lived in Jesmond and one of his uncles had his own business, they were obviously well-to-do. Peggy was a little worried. Jennifer was too happy to care and Peggy’s words floated over her head.

  As it turned out, Judith and William were kind, friendly people and had made them all welcome. When they were settled in the lounge after tea, Judith handed round the sherry. It was then it happened. Oh, what a moment! Jennifer would never forget it. Michael got to his feet and stood in front of the roaring fire, facing them all. ‘Is something wrong, dear?’ Judith had asked.

  Michael had turned to Jennifer’s father. ‘Sir,’ he said, ‘I would like your permission to receive your daughter’s hand in marriage.’

  There was a complete hush in the room. Everyone looked at Alfie as he stood up and shook Michael’s hand. Suddenly everyone was shouting words of congratulation and offering their good wishes. William was sent to open a bottle of champagne and eventually Michael shouted over the noise, ‘Excuse me, but I didn’t actually hear Jennifer say yes.’

  All eyes had turned to her as she opened her mouth to speak. It had come out in a whisper, she was so overcome with emotion. ‘Yes.’ That was it, one word and her whole life changed.

  They were married that summer and that was when the whispers started from both sides of the family. Babies. As both of them were only children, there was great excitement at the prospect of grandchildren. Michael’s uncle, who was Judith’s elder brother, had decided to sell his business and gave them his house to live in. His health was poor and he was moving in with his sister. Jennifer could hardly believe it – their very own house! It was something she could never have dreamed of. Most of the young married couples she knew were struggling financially. It was the best start to married life. ‘Now for the grandchildren,’ they all said and waited hopefully.