The Puppy and the Orphan

by Suzanne Lambert

  ‘Indeed not, Nancy. Cook will bring them through on her best tray, with the china plates, matching teapot, cups and saucers as always. They will then be placed on the table in the mirror room.’

  ‘Not this year, I fear. Mother, the cakes have disappeared.’

  ‘That explains the commotion from the kitchen I heard earlier.’

  ‘We’ve all been blamed in turn, Mother, and Cook is furious.’

  ‘I don’t suppose she could have made a mistake?’ Mother asked hopefully.

  ‘Well now, I wonder, would you like to ask her that, Mother?’

  Mother Superior shuddered and made the sign of the cross.

  ‘Quite,’ said Nancy.

  ‘Oh dear, what are we to do?’ Mother Superior lifted her rosary beads and smiled at Nancy. ‘We shall pray that the cakes turn up and Cook keeps calm. Now let us pray together.’

  ‘There’s not enough prayers in the world,’ Nancy replied, then threw her hands up to Heaven. ‘Dear God, please may I have a tin of cakes.’ There was a pause. ‘Sorry, Mother, there are no cakes in Heaven today. They’re all out.’

  ‘Dear Lord, is there any chance you could keep Cook calm? No? Oh, I see. Sorry, Mother, that’s one miracle too many. Any more ideas?’

  Mother was shocked. ‘Really, Nancy, that was quite irreverent.’

  ‘Well then I shall leave it to you to speak to Cook. I have a nursery full of overexcited children because Dolly has told them all some daft story about the magic chain the lady mayor wears around her neck.’

  Mother had to suppress a smile. Young Dolly, Nancy’s helper in the nursery, was loved by all and Mother knew Nancy had a soft spot for her.

  They heard a door slam somewhere down the corridor and marching footsteps. Mother looked with pleading eyes at Nancy. ‘All yours, Mother,’ Nancy said, as she escaped upstairs to the nursery. She took the steps two at a time and had just reached the door when she heard an almighty scream from below.

  When she got downstairs again, she discovered that Cook had slipped and was lying in a heap on the parlour floor.

  Pandemonium ensued. The nuns rushed out of their rooms, Nancy was shouting at them, telling them the floor was slippery. Mother was kneeling beside Cook, who was shouting at them all to leave her alone as she hastily straightened her clothes. The nuns were taking tiny tentative steps, their arms out to their sides to keep their balance. Cook looked up in despair at Nancy. ‘What in all that is holy are they doing?’ she called out.

  ‘Erm, the floor is a bit slippery, Cook.’

  ‘Slippery, a bit slippery? Nancy that’s an understatement. What on earth is going on?’

  Nancy hurried down the stairs.

  She grabbed a chair, carried it over to Cook and they all helped her to sit down. Poor Cook was puffing and panting. ‘A cup of tea, that’s what you need, Cook,’ Mother said, gently patting her shoulder.

  Cook looked up at her and the angry look returned. ‘What I need, Mother, is my cakes. They were placed in the special cake tin, in my larder, and now they’re gone. Completely disappeared.’

  ‘Oh dear,’ said Mother, for about the tenth time that morning.

  ‘Well,’ said Cook, looking around her, ‘where are they, then?’

  There was complete silence in the parlour: nobody moved, nobody spoke. It was almost as though they were all frozen in time. Mother stole at glance at Nancy, who had a smile tickling the corners of her mouth. ‘Useless,’ shouted Cook. ‘You’re all absolutely useless!’ She jumped up, then screamed as pain shot up her leg. The next half-hour was spent getting her back to the kitchen, putting her foot up on a stool and promising to call Dr Graham. A wet towel was wrapped around her ankle and she was given a cup of tea.

  When everything had calmed down, Nancy looked around the kitchen. ‘Oh, Cook!’ she said. ‘Look, Mother.’ All around the kitchen there were trays of the most beautiful cakes each one looking more tantalisingly tasty than the next. They were decorated in different colours. Mother walked over to look at them more closely. ‘Cook, you’ve surpassed yourself.’

  ‘Well, there’s no special cakes,’ replied Cook, who was now more tearful than angry.

  Nancy took her hand. ‘But these are very special, Cook. When the lady mayor sees these, she’ll be thrilled. You’re so clever.’

  Cook was mollified. ‘Well, they are rather good, even if I say so myself.’

  Crisis averted, thought Nancy.

  ‘I’ve sent for a couple of the girls to help you until we can get Dr Graham to see to that ankle, and no arguments,’ Mother told her.

  ‘And now, Mother, what are we going to do about the hallway?’ They looked at Nancy. ‘I was asking you, Sisters,’ she said. ‘This is your domain, your problem.’

  ‘I’m not sure there is anything we can do,’ said Sister Ann.

  ‘Nor me,’ added Sister Lucy.

  Nancy was becoming annoyed. ‘Well, Sisters, you had better think of something very quickly, unless you want to see the colour of the lady mayor’s knickers.’

  ‘Nancy!’ exclaimed Mother. ‘Please, that is quite enough.’

  Sister Mary and Sister Lucy bent their heads and tried hard not to let Mother see their shoulders shaking.

  Once again, the room fell silent. Everyone continued to look at Nancy, their eyes pleading.

  ‘Oh, for goodness’ sake,’ Nancy said, exasperated. ‘Let me think.’

  Everyone waited silently.

  ‘Has every room been polished with the machine?’ she asked.

  ‘Oh, no,’ Sister Lucy chipped in. ‘The mirror room wasn’t. There was no need because of the large rug.’

  ‘Rug, Sister?’

  ‘Well, it practically covers the whole room.’

  Nancy smiled at them all and waited.

  Mother was the first to understand Nancy’s thinking. ‘We couldn’t possibly move it,’ she said. ‘It weighs a ton.’

  ‘Very well, Mother. I’ll wait for you all to come up with a better idea.’

  Nobody could.

  Nancy looked up at the clock on the wall. ‘Time’s ticking.’

  ‘How do we do it?’ said Mother, who was beginning to panic. The lady mayor was due in less than an hour.

  Within ten minutes Nancy had grabbed a group of children from the junior department and between them all, with help from the nuns, they heaved the carpet into the parlour, slipping and sliding as they went. Eventually, after a lot of huffing and puffing, the enormous rug was in place and the children were sent away to get ready for the big occasion.

  ‘Try it out, Nancy,’ the nuns said. ‘Go outside and come in through the door and see if it’s all right.’

  ‘I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that, Sisters. I am now going upstairs to finally get the children ready, which I should have done an hour ago. I’ll leave you to bob in and out of the door to your hearts’ content. Now, if you will excuse me.’ Nancy went up the stairs for the second time. Only once did she look back: they were walking through the door pretending to be the lady mayor. Nancy burst out laughing and found it hard to stop.

  She hurried into the dormitory and there they all were, her little angels. The shepherds stood with their crooks and the angels sparkled and shone. Mary and Joseph brought a lump to her throat. It had all been done while she was away. ‘Sister Mary Joseph, Dolly, what miracles you’ve worked here,’ she told them. ‘You have no idea how much this means to me.’

  Dolly and Sister Mary Joseph were beaming from ear to ear. ‘They’ve all been good as gold,’ they said. ‘Honestly, everything went to plan perfectly.’

  Nancy looked at them all. Everything looked perfect, but there was something odd … Whatever it was, it could wait. Dolly ran over to Nancy, grinning. ‘Of course, we had a very special helper, Nancy.’

  ‘Did you? Who was that then?’

  ‘God. We prayed to Him to help everything work perfectly and He came along and worked His miracle,’ she said grinning.

  ‘So that’s why He couldn�
��t look for the cakes!’ she said.

  ‘Cakes?’

  ‘Never mind, you don’t want to know. Come along, everyone, well done.’

  Nazareth House was once more serene and the sisters awaited the cars that would bring the guests to their home. The bell rang and Mother carefully made her way across the carpet to welcome them. Sister Ann and Sister Lucy stood either side of the lady mayor, their hands placed under each of her elbows. The lady mayor had been here many times before and thought there was something different this morning but couldn’t quite place what it was. Also they usually stood chatting in the parlour but today she felt herself very gently being guided straight to the door into the corridor leading to the chapel, where the children were lined up before the large oak doors. ‘How beautiful,’ she said, impressed once more at how much effort went in to these occasions.

  Martha came forward and curtsied, then gave her a little posy. She was so nervous she was shaking, and Nancy moved forward to take her hand. ‘Thank you,’ said the lady mayor. She looked at the children. ‘You all look splendid, and we’re all looking forward very much to your nativity play. Well done, children.’

  Nancy breathed a sigh of relief. Now I can relax, she thought. She glanced round at all of the children and her shoulders sagged. Martha, Mary, Tommy, Norman and Billy were all looking anxious, and Billy had tears in his eyes. They were fidgeting and Mary was pulling nervously at the tinsel around her waist. They all kept looking at Martha. Nancy closed her eyes for a moment. Dear God, what now?

  Sister Ann and Sister Lucy moved forward and opened the doors.

  Mother Superior stood beside the lady mayor and they began to walk into the chapel.

  The organ was playing as the children processed down the aisle behind the guests.

  Suddenly Nancy realized something was wrong. Mother and the lady mayor had stopped halfway down the aisle. There was a pause before they continued to the pew at the front. Then Nancy saw it. Her heart skipped a beat. I’m seeing things, she thought. Mother glanced at her but Nancy was rooted to the spot, shocked to the core. There on the altar stood the nativity stable without any straw. The bits that were left were scattered over the chancel steps.

  Mother turned again to Nancy, who shook her head. Quietly she led the children up to the altar and put them in their places. Every child was behaving perfectly. Thank goodness for small mercies, she thought. She nodded to signal the children’s first carol. Five of them were looking at the floor. Bless them, they must be a bit scared, she thought. ‘Come along, children,’ she said. ‘Ready now.’

  One by one the children lifted their heads and looked straight ahead. Nancy’s heart missed a beat. Oh, dear God in Heaven, now I know what it was upstairs. She looked at each of the little faces gazing at her and raised her eyebrows in question.

  Nancy knew a guilty face when she saw one and right now, standing in front of her on the steps of Nazareth House Chapel stood five extremely guilty faces.

  Nancy raised her eyes to the Cross of Our Lord behind the children. Everyone was waiting for them to sing, but Nancy was standing on the altar steps staring straight ahead in disbelief. She had averted the crisis of watching the Lady Mayor skimming across the parlour showing her knickers to all and sundry, heaved a great big carpet across the floor, looked after Cook, who, it seems, had sprained her ankle, the specially made cakes had disappeared and now this. She closed her eyes, opened them again, glanced at Mother Superior, then looked once more upon the Cross of Our Lord.

  ‘I give up,’ she said.

  Trouble Brewing

  It was just a feeling that’s all, thought Nancy as she walked around her room making sure everything was put away and tidy. What a strange day, Nancy thought, as she sat down on the edge of her bed and looked at her holy pictures. ‘There’s trouble brewing, make no mistake.’ The children had been acting extremely … extremely … what? She couldn’t come up with the word for it.

  She went over the events of the last few days. There had been the shock of finding the straw missing from the nativity crib. Nobody seemed to know anything about it but straw didn’t vanish into thin air. They hunted high and low but it had never been found. Then the children had suddenly become angels at bedtime and gone to sleep straight away, not badgering her for stories and songs. Tonight they had been yawning just after five so Nancy had started the baths early and they were all fast asleep by six thirty. Little Billy’s head was down all the time and he was still saying very little. And tonight when Nancy had tucked him in and whispered goodnight, she’d caught that guilty look. What on earth did he have to be guilty about? ‘Trouble brewing,’ she whispered once again to nobody at all.

  Then there was Cook, Heaven only knew what on earth she was up to. Hysterical, complaining that there was a whole tin of cakes stolen, making everyone search high and low for them. Then, when Nancy had popped in for their usual cuppa earlier today, Cook couldn’t look her in the eye. Another guilty face. Goodness only knew what all that was about. Three of the children’s dressing-gowns had gone missing and couldn’t be found anywhere. I give up, thought Nancy; I am too tired to care about missing straw, cakes or dressing-gowns. I shall simply pray that tomorrow all will become clear and I can shake this feeling of impending doom off me.

  Nancy got undressed and knelt down beside her bed. ‘Hello, Lord, trouble’s brewing here. Any chance you could give me a helping hand? It’s no good telling me all is well because you know I can smell trouble a mile off. This nonsense has been going on for quite long enough now thank you.’

  She stood up and walked over to her window, which looked out onto the roof of the chapel and the bell. She opened the curtains so that she could look at the night sky. The bell was swaying, and the wind seemed to be gathering speed. A storm brewing, she thought. She stood for a few moments looking at the stars, thinking about Billy, then shivered. She drew the curtains, then went across the room and climbed into bed. She pulled the bedclothes around her and closed her eyes. As she drifted off to sleep, she thought how glad she was that tomorrow was her day off … All she needed was a good night’s sleep and all would be well. Nancy could never have guessed what the night would bring but it would certainly not be a good night’s sleep.

  She was woken by a loud crash of thunder and looked at her bedside clock: just after midnight. She lay for a moment, listening to hailstones lashing against her window. Nancy actually found it quite soothing to listen to, especially as she was curled up in a cosy warm bed. She turned on her side to watch it and her eyes began once more to close. Suddenly there was a flash of lightning which lit the room, followed by another rumble of thunder. Oh dear, she thought, if this goes on it will wake the children. She heard someone running down the corridor. Sister Mary Joseph and Dolly: they would be checking that the children weren’t frightened. Nancy couldn’t for one moment imagine what she would do without them both. Quite honestly, apart from the help, they were a constant source of amusement. She remembered the day young Dolly had arrived, an angry and extremely upset young girl who’d had her hopes of becoming a nurse dashed. Nancy had taken her under her wing and in no time at all she was loved not only by the staff but the children too. She could make the most ordinary story sound magical and would get the children overexcited with her funny ways but Nancy’s heart warmed every time she looked at her. Dolly would be hurrying to the children, making the storm all seem like a game, as she always did.

  There was another almighty crash of thunder and lightning lit the entire sky. Nancy got up, ‘Well, that’s me wide awake now,’ she told her holy pictures and hurriedly began putting on her slippers and dressing-gown, then set off to help with the children. First, though, she went to the window to look out at the storm. She saw another flash of light – which had nothing to do with the storm. Nancy was completely confused. ‘What in Heaven’s name is that?’

  She left her room and went into the dining room where the big window looked out onto the driveway and the grounds. There it was again. N
ancy pressed her nose to the window but it was still difficult to see as the hailstones were now lashing down again. In the darkness of the room, she stood trying to focus and see what on earth it was. ‘Why, Heavens above, it’s a torch!’ she said, feeling totally confused. ‘Somebody is out in the storm with a torch! Why, for goodness sake why – and who is it?’ Had something blown down? Was it Mr Bell? If so, he was going to get soaked.

  There was nothing else for it: Nancy was going to have to get help. Then it happened. There was another flash of lightning that lit up the entire sky and grounds and Nancy saw who it was. She opened her mouth to cry out but couldn’t. The loud clash of thunder brought her to her senses. ‘Cook!’ Nancy said. ‘What in God’s name?’

  Nancy ran back to her room and grabbed her raincoat, boots and rain hat. She hurried over to to the bottom drawer and grabbed her big torch. This is going to be fun, she thought, as she went down the stairs. She paused as she unlocked the garden door. When she opened it, it was almost wrenched out of her hand as the wind got behind it. Nancy grabbed the handle and forced the door shut. Her head bent against the hailstones and gale, she made her way towards the old stables behind the wood where she had seen Cook with the torch. There was something wrong, Nancy just knew it, but what? The wind suddenly howled and Nancy was almost thrown off balance. ‘Tell you what, Cook,’ she shouted into the wind, ‘you had better have a very good reason for being out here and soaking me half to death.’ She leaned forward and made her way through the storm, getting blown backwards every few steps. She paused for a moment, wondering where on earth Cook could possibly be. Suddenly she saw it, dancing torch light under the door of one of the old stables. It was never used. It had been built in 1816 to the left of the wood, along with the circular driveway for horses and carriages. Nancy battled on through the storm then suddenly stopped. Oh my, she thought, am I interrupting something? Oh dear, what am I to do? Howevever there was no need for Nancy to do anything because at that moment the stable door opened and the next flash of lightning showed Nancy and Cook looking at each other in total bewilderment. Suddenly Cook hurried forward and grabbed Nancy’s hand. They began shouting at each other to be heard over the noise of the storm.