Jennifer drank the tea, and when Nancy refilled her cup she drained that too. ‘Better?’ Nancy said.
‘Better,’ Jennifer replied, smiling. She looked around the pretty little kitchenette and sighed. She seemed calmer. ‘Oh, Nancy, I’m married to the most wonderful man called Michael and I lost the baby we wanted so much and it almost broke my heart. I just couldn’t seem to get over it, especially as another baby never came. Last year on Christmas Day, Michael surprised me with the sweetest little puppy. He was adorable, and I fell in love with him the moment I saw him. Does that sound ridiculous?’
Nancy’s thoughts turned to Oliver. ‘Strangely enough, I can well understand that. I know how much comfort and love they can bring and I’m glad you have him.’
Jennifer shook her head. ‘I lost my puppy too. I was so excited when Michael and I took him for his first walk in the evening on Christmas Day. It was so cold. Poor little soul, he got a bit tired so I picked him up, wrapped him in my coat and carried him all the way home. I remember feeling happier than I had in a long time.’
Jennifer’s eyes were shining and she was so lost in the memory of that evening a year ago that she didn’t notice Nancy’s eyes were closed. Dear God, no, she prayed, don’t let it be Oliver, but in her heart Nancy already knew it was. The puppy that had arrived here last year, who was now so big a part of the life of the orphanage, belonged to this young girl. She would naturally want him back. Nancy heart sank.
At twelve o’clock Nancy realised her perfectly timed plans for Christmas Eve were starting to go astray. The girl was looking much better now and her tears had dried.
‘Do many people tell you their troubles, Nancy?’ Jennifer asked.
‘There have been one or two,’ Nancy agreed.
Now Jennifer stood up, ready to leave.
It was no good, it would have to be done, Nancy thought, and asked Jennifer to sit down for one more moment. ‘I have something to tell you,’ she said, as she fiddled with the corner of her apron nervously. It might be my own eyes need drying after this, she thought. ‘A year ago, little Billy, a child who had just arrived with us, found a puppy playing in the grounds on Boxing Day and, with some of the other children, managed to hide him in the stables so they could keep him.’ Nancy smiled at the memory and Jennifer gave a little laugh. ‘Oh my,’ was all she managed to say but looked extremely amused. ‘Billy was a troubled child and the bond between him and the puppy did more for him that anyone else here could do. Believe me, I tried everything. It was Billy who called the puppy Oliver because of the book Oliver Twist. Both orphans, you see.’
Jennifer’s hand flew to her mouth. ‘That’s the saddest thing I’ve ever heard,’ she said, ‘and also one of the sweetest.’ She glanced at the clock and jumped up. ‘I really must go, Nancy, thank you so much. Just wait until I tell Michael.’ She burst out laughing.
Nancy had no idea what to say as she led Jennifer back down the stairs. She had expected Jennifer to ask to take Oliver home and was surprised, yet extremely thankful, that she hadn’t. She looked completely different from the woman who had arrived at the door that morning. Her cheeks were glowing and her eyes were shining. When Nancy opened the door, Jennifer turned to her. ‘Doesn’t he have the most beautiful eyes?’ she said, then set off up the driveway, stopping briefly to wave.
Nancy was still standing at the doorway, completely bemused, when Mother Superior joined her.
‘Nancy, is everything all right?’
Nancy reached into her apron pocket for her rosary beads with the tiny Cross of Our Lord attached. Suddenly Nancy smiled. ‘Well now,’ she told Him, ‘I think I see where you’re going with this.’ She kissed the tiny cross. ‘Nice idea, I like it.’
Treasure Box and Shiny Ringlets
After lunch there was the usual pandemonium, which ensued regardless of how much preparation and organisation there had been. One of the angels was crying because Norman had bent her wings. The three wise men had lost their gold, frankincense and myrrh. Nancy was informed that the statue of Joseph’s head had fallen off and there was a scramble to find the glue. ‘All as normal,’ Nancy said, laughing. She was too distracted to care about things going wrong. Jennifer’s words were playing in her head. I wonder, Nancy kept saying to herself. I wonder.
At two thirty, the children trooped into the chapel, looking angelic. There was nothing to show the chaos that had been left upstairs in the nursery. Honestly, Nancy thought, when you see the finished product you wouldn’t believe all the hard work that’s gone into it.
Nancy had done herself a disservice. Mother Superior was perfectly well aware of all her hard work and thanked God for her every single day.
Sister Mary Joseph and Dolly sat beside Nancy. As usual, Sister Angela was playing the organ and Nancy looked up and nodded at her. The children were all in place at the altar, and as soon as the organ began to play, Nancy signalled for them to sing. This was the first performance of the nativity play: there would be another in a week’s time for the lady mayor and the dignitaries as usual. Hopefully Mother had hidden the polish this year, Nancy thought, and had to stop herself giggling in the chapel.
As the children raised their voices in song Nancy looked at each of them. Finally her eyes rested on Billy. She had to gulp back tears. He was beaming, no tears, no sadness, no hours spent looking out of the window at the stars, although he still talked about it occasionally. Billy would never forget the Ragdoll Express, she thought. All this year it had been the children’s favourite game. How many times have I dragged those chairs out of the dining room into the corridor in the last twelve months? she wondered. Billy was always the driver, and once the children had decided on their destination, the whistle would be blown and off they went.
Josephine no longer had the callipers on her legs. She still walked with a slight limp, but the sight of her trying to run around the grounds chasing Oliver was nothing less than a miracle. There had been a few of those this year. Old Mr Bell was recovering nicely and they were all looking after him. How he would cope without Oliver, if Jennifer came back for him, was Nancy’s only worry. Still, the children visited him all the time now. There was no more sitting in his cottage preferring his own company.
The nativity carols went on but Nancy was miles away. She was remembering the day she had gone with Cook to take Mr Bell some lunch and a special pudding she had made for him. As soon as they were through the door he had called, ‘Hello’ and said he could smell the food all the way up the driveway. Cook’s face flushed red, she was extremely pleased. It should have been a wonderful moment but just then there was a knock at the door. It was Norah, come to check all was well with her brother. Polite hellos were said, and Mr Bell was staring at Nancy and Cook. Stay, please, those eyes were saying and both Nancy and Cook took a seat. ‘We can stay for a little while,’ Nancy said to Norah. ‘We have just popped over to bring some lunch and pudding.’ Norah’s nose twitched.
Norah put her large bag, which contained goodness knows what, down on the floor and turned to her brother. ‘Well now,’ she said, ‘did you enjoy my specially made stew that I left for you?’
‘Your what?’ said Mr Bell.
Cook jumped up, ‘I, ooooh, left a pan on! I’ve got to go.’
Nancy followed her. ‘Children to see to,’ she said.
The door closed behind them. ‘How rude,’ said Norah and went to busy herself in the kitchen. A smile tickled the corners of James Bell’s mouth; he knew exactly what Cook and Nancy would have done with the stew. Norah paused with her hands in the sink when she heard a strange sound in the living room. It was one the room had never heard before. It started with a splutter, which turned into a giggle. Then, for the first time in thirty-eight years, James Bell roared with laughter. Nancy and Cook didn’t hear it as they were running as fast as they could all the way back to the house.
Dolly, digging Nancy in the ribs, dragged her back from daydreaming. The children were standing quite still, waiting for Nancy’s signa
l to begin the next carol.
Her thoughts wandered again. There were changes in the air. I have a feeling this is going to be a very special Christmas, she thought. I wonder how it will all turn out.
There was no time for any daydreaming now. Once the play was over it was upstairs as quickly as possible for the children to get changed. There were lots of helpers to get them into their party clothes. Josephine was dressed first and brought to the television room.
‘Nancy,’ Dolly said, ‘all the children want to watch Josephine getting her hair done.’
‘Very well,’ Nancy said. ‘Dress them as quickly as you can and bring them along.’
Moments later the children were running down the corridor and into the room where Josephine sat on the chair by the big table in front of the window. Usually at this point, they would all be asking if the sandwiches were ready and when the birthday cake was coming, but not today. They piled in and sat on the big sofa or on the floor to watch. Josephine couldn’t remember feeling so important before. All eyes were on her.
Nancy said a quick prayer, ‘Please, God, let this be perfect,’ then unravelled the first rag. The ringlet fell out, perfectly formed, shining and bouncy.
‘Ooh,’ the children said.
Josephine said nothing, just remained perfectly calm.
Nancy continued to unravel the rags and as each shiny ringlet bounced out the children all shouted with delight: ‘Ooooh,’ and ‘Aaaaaah.’ Martha was staring at Josephine, with eyes like saucers. ‘You look just like a real princess,’ she said.
Finally, the last ringlet was revealed, and Nancy took Josephine’s hand to lead her across to the mirror in the corner of the room.
Josephine Jones, who had once wanted to go to Heaven to see her mummy and daddy, couldn’t believe her eyes. She shook her head and all the ringlets quivered. ‘Do it again!’ the children shouted. She did so, and the ringlets swung out around her head and shoulders. The children began clapping and Josephine thought she had never been happier.
The children all fussed around her as they made their way into the dining room. Happy children. I can ask for nothing more, Nancy thought.
The birthday sandwiches were being eaten, along with all the little treats that Cook had sent up, when Josephine called, ‘Aunty Nancy, when is Mr Bell coming to the party?’
Nancy walked over to the window and couldn’t see him. He must be here already, she thought.
Indeed he was. He was standing outside the large oak door, feeling ridiculous. He had one best suit, which he was wearing now. Fortunately, after all these years it still fitted him, a little on the large side but that was all right. He had brushed the jacket and laid the tie over the fireguard so that any creases would drop out. Mr Bell had no need for a suit. He didn’t wear one to fix and mend and he hardly went anywhere. There was that day in the summer when he’d gone to the beach with Oliver and the children. Naturally, he’d needed to be dressed for the beach, so he’d taken his good handkerchief, tied knots in the corners and used it as a sunhat, as everyone did. Going to the beach was one thing but going into the big house was another. He had never been into the nursery’s television room. He was shuffling from foot to foot. Could he go home and say he hadn’t been feeling well? They would understand and make a fuss of him, but he could tolerate that in his own home.
Somehow, though, his feet wouldn’t take him away from the front door. He was thinking about Billy and Josephine. It was time to stop feeling guilty and sorry for himself. Life had meaning again. He wanted to live, really live, and to give something back before it was too late.
He looked down at the treasure in his hand. He had always called it that. When he had retrieved it that morning, he’d had a job opening the drawer. He’d thought his heart would stop when he saw it again but, of course, it didn’t. It had, however, been a little while before he could pick it up, then longer again before he removed the lid. It was quite a surprise when he found himself smiling. Oliver had stood by his side throughout. Mr Bell wasn’t sure he could have done it without him. The dog gave him a strength nobody else ever had.
Mr Bell took a deep breath, then knocked on the door. He stood tall and straight, just like the soldier he had once been, with the little box firmly held in his hand.
When Mother opened the door to welcome him, her first thought was how uncomfortable he looked and how difficult this must be for him. When she had been told he would attend the party, she’d been startled. ‘Well, it must be another of this year’s miracles,’ she told Nancy. ‘I never would have believed it.’ Yet here he was.
Mother chatted all the way to the nursery department to cover any embarrassment he might feel and he walked silently beside her to the television room. There was a squeal of excitement as he came in and stood just inside the doorway, not knowing what to say or do.
Nancy hurried over and brought him to the table. ‘Don’t crowd Mr Bell like that, children,’ she said, laughing. He was relaxing, she thought. It’s the children. He’s quite at home with them now. He was offered a seat but before he sat down he looked at Josephine. He saw the sparkle in her eyes and the beautiful ringlets, and smiled, knowing the decision he had made was the right one. He coughed, then looked again at Josephine, who had come stand in front of him.
‘You look ever so smart, Mr Bell,’ she said.
He nodded.
‘Do you like my ringlets?’
Mr Bell nodded again.
‘Would you like some cake now?’
There was a pause as Mr Bell looked down at the tin box in his hand. Everyone watched as he held it out towards Josephine. ‘For you,’ he said.
The children all gathered round to see what it was.
Nancy thought her knees would give way. Can’t be, she thought. She sat down quickly, knowing somehow that this moment was creating a memory she would treasure for the rest of her life.
Mr Bell placed the tin box in Josephine’s hand and the room fell silent.
Slowly Josephine pulled at the lid, lifted it off and gasped.
There in Mr Bell’s treasure box lay the most beautiful pale blue ribbons.
‘Happy birthday, Josephine,’ he said.
Nancy caught Mr Bell’s eye and smiled at him. ‘Perfect,’ she whispered. There were tears running down her face and she didn’t care one bit.
The birthday party was held up for a moment while the blue ribbons were tied in bows in Josephine’s hair and once again there were ‘oooohs’ and ‘aaaaaahs’.
There was further excitement when Cook turned up with Mr Bell’s special birthday cake, which said, ‘Happy Birthday, Welcome Home’ on the top.
Cook was praised. ‘Oh, it was nothing, nothing at all,’ she said, then told everyone how she had toiled over it. Nancy thought the whole thing was hilarious.
Nancy decided the children could stay up late tonight. This was the best birthday party ever and it would be enjoyed until the very last second.
By six o’clock, however, the children were getting tired and the younger ones had already been bathed and put to bed. Thank goodness for all the extra helpers today, Nancy thought.
At seven o’clock Nancy, Josephine and Billy walked with Mr Bell back to his cottage. They took Oliver for a quick run, then made sure Mr Bell was comfortable and the fire banked up for the evening. They returned to the house and the two children got ready for bed. Billy was asleep before his head hit the pillow. He was dreaming of special sandwiches, cake, games in the garden and running around the wood with Oliver.
Josephine was sitting perfectly still in bed thinking about her best birthday ever. Nancy glanced at her and couldn’t help laughing. She wasn’t moving a muscle yet those ringlets seemed to have a life of their own. (‘Quivering, they were,’ she told Sister Mary Joseph later.) She busied herself with the socks to be hung at the ends of the beds, then prepared the dining room for Christmas Day breakfast. Thank goodness I don’t have chairs to drag up and down the corridor this year, she thought.
&n
bsp; That night as the children slept the stars in the sky twinkled as they looked down upon the dormitory, the little room with the holy pictures and the cottage in the wood.
‘Thank you,’ they said. ‘God bless you.’
Puppy Dog Eyes
Jennifer had no idea what time it was and cared even less. One foot in front of the other, she walked home. Her head was spinning and she felt more alive than she had done in such a long time. She wanted to skip, scream or even dance, and felt an excitement bubbling inside her that she was struggling to contain. She had to talk to Michael and there were hours to go before he was due home. Never had she wished away time as impatiently as she did today.
When she arrived home she shovelled more coal onto the fire. Then she went into the kitchen and spent the next few hours preparing everything that needed to be ready for Christmas Day. She switched on the wireless. Another children’s choir, but this time there were no tears as Jennifer sang with them. At four o’clock she ran upstairs, had a bath and washed her hair. Everything must be perfect. She sat in front of the fire drying her hair, then ran back upstairs to choose something pretty to wear. She thought six o’clock would never come, but eventually she heard Michael’s key in the front door.
The moment Michael walked through the front door he knew something was different. Happiness hung in the air, and his wife was smiling at him. Her hair looked different and she was dressed up prettily. Was she wearing rouge on her cheeks? he wondered. No, he thought it’s natural: she’s flushed with what looks like joy. ‘Jenny,’ he said.
There was only a moment’s pause before she threw herself into his arms. ‘Oh, Michael, oh, Michael,’ she kept saying.
‘Well,’ he said, ‘this must be some very special occasion. You usually send me straight upstairs to clean up before you start hugging me.’
Jennifer laughed. ‘Go on then, get yourself upstairs. Then come down and let’s have a wonderful Christmas Eve,’ she said, hitting him with the tea towel.
The Puppy and the Orphan Page 21