The Surplus Girls' Orphans

by Polly Heron

  ‘Molly, you’re my daughter and I’ll always love you, whatever you do; but just at the moment, when I think what this is going to do to your father, I can hardly bear to look at you.’ She disentangled herself and gave Molly a gentle but determined push. ‘Off you go, love.’

  Distress robbed her of the ability to breathe. In a dream she allowed Auntie Faith to take her to the front door. The step down onto the path felt deeper than usual, causing an odd swooping sensation. Auntie Faith’s hand on her arm made her glance round. Auntie Faith stood on the step, pulling the door to behind her.

  ‘On my way home, I’ll call on Tilda and Chrissie to save your mum having to do it.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  She looked past Molly, as if hordes of nosy neighbours might be lurking behind the hydrangeas. ‘You do realise you’ve got a way out, don’t you? Norris would have you back in a flash.’

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  MOLLY HAD BEEN pretty certain Miss Patience would express compassion for Danny’s plight. What she hadn’t taken into account was the depth of her own gratitude and relief when this happened. After the emotional hammering she had endured that day, Miss Patience’s gentle but steadfast sympathy for Danny filled Molly’s heart to overflowing. Tears welled behind her eyes.

  ‘It doesn’t matter how sorry we all feel for the boy,’ Miss Hesketh declared. ‘Nothing alters the fact that Miss Watson behaved with a complete lack of regard for her professional responsibilities.’

  She couldn’t put it off any longer. ‘I have to warn you that you might receive a letter from Mrs Rostron.’ All eyes swung her way and she gulped. ‘She suggested that my lapse was owing to a lack of correct teaching on your part.’

  Miss Hesketh’s pale eyes narrowed. ‘Did she, indeed?’

  ‘That doesn’t mean she’ll definitely write,’ said Miss Patience.

  ‘That’s beside the point,’ snapped Miss Hesketh. ‘She has linked our business school with Miss Watson’s conduct and it behoves us to defend ourselves. If people start saying we give our pupils the wrong ideas, it’ll ruin us.’ She eyed her sister. ‘And you know what that would mean.’

  Molly looked from one to the other. What would it mean? It was all she could do not to drop her head into her hands. An apology, yet another one, hovered on her lips, but Miss Patience spoke first.

  ‘You do see, Molly dear, don’t you, that we have to protect our reputation? What do you suggest, Prudence?’

  ‘I’ll have to make an appointment to speak to Mrs Rostron.’ Miss Hesketh turned to Molly. ‘Is she on duty at the weekend? Not that I want to wait that long, but I have no choice.’

  ‘Yes, you do,’ piped up Miss Patience. ‘You can entrust the task to me. I’ll take a copy of our prospectus and some of our lesson plans and – I’m sorry, Molly dear, but it has to be done – I’ll assure Mrs Rostron that we are as shocked and disappointed as she is.’

  Molly nodded. It had to be done, she could see that, but she felt as if her skin were being peeled away, leaving nothing but raw shame.

  ‘Don’t apologise to Miss Watson, Patience,’ Miss Hesketh said crisply. ‘It is she who should be apologising to us.’

  Which made Molly start to apologise all over again, but Vivienne, having sat silent throughout the conversation, spoke across her.

  ‘I’m not defending what Molly did. She acted unprofessionally and that’s that; but she did it with the best of intentions. She’ll be paying for her mistake for a long time to come, but who can blame her for wanting to reunite father and son in the father’s final moments? Family matters more than anything – doesn’t it?’

  ‘I’m sure the little boy will always be grateful to you, Molly,’ said Lucy.

  ‘Unfortunately, that won’t pay the bills,’ Miss Hesketh remarked drily.

  ‘I realise I’ll have to leave here,’ said Molly. Was there no end to the repercussions her transgression had unleashed? ‘I won’t be able to pay you my rent or my business school fees, so I’ll have to go.’

  ‘But not quite yet,’ said Miss Patience. ‘Your rent is paid until the end of the week. You must stay until then. Allow yourself a breathing space.’

  Everyone looked at Miss Hesketh. She was the one who would make the final decision.

  ‘I wouldn’t blame you if you showed me the door immediately,’ said Molly.

  ‘You made a serious mistake,’ said Miss Hesketh, ‘and I feel personally let down, but I prefer to lead my life according to the principles of common sense and Christian charity rather than Victorian melodrama.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Molly whispered.

  ‘No office will employ you after this,’ said Miss Hesketh, ‘but if you can find another employer who is prepared to give you a chance, I’ll write a conditional reference and after that it will be up to you to explain your misdemeanour as best you can.’

  For the first time that day, a little of Molly’s burden eased.

  She had never been more exhausted in her life. Losing her job and having to tell people had left her drained. That night she went to bed expecting not to sleep a wink, only to plunge into a deep slumber. She woke with the dawn chorus and, for the tiniest fraction of a second, her heart lifted before reality crashed around her. No job and, shortly, no home. Well, she would have a home, obviously. She would go back to her parents, dragging her shame behind her like Marley’s chains.

  It was a long day. Miss Patience kept her busy, giving her mending to do and asking her to polish the brights.

  ‘I ought to be out looking for another job,’ said Molly.

  ‘Give yourself a day to recover,’ advised Miss Patience.

  ‘Did Miss Hesketh say that?’

  ‘No, Molly dear. I did.’

  It was a strange day. For the first time in her life since she left school, she didn’t have a job to go to. Her life had been left hanging.

  When Miss Patience and Lucy went out to do the daily shopping, Miss Patience wouldn’t hear of Molly’s accompanying them.

  ‘No, dear, stay at home and have a rest. Plenty of time to face the world later.’

  Shortly after they returned, Miss Patience went out once more.

  ‘To get Vera’s Voice,’ Lucy told Molly. ‘Auntie Patience buys it every week.’

  ‘The first time I heard of the business school, it was in Vera’s Voice.’

  At first Molly was glad to hide away, but by the afternoon she felt ready to face the world again, though, with Miss Patience fussing over her and being such a sweetie, it would have felt rude and ungrateful to sally forth in search of a new job; but she would definitely do so tomorrow. Would she end up back in a shop? A picture formed in her head of the new girl at Upton’s not working out and herself ending up back where she started. You do realise you’ve got a way out, don’t you? Norris would have you back in a flash. Oh, how had things gone so wrong?

  She must go and see her parents this evening. Talking to Dad face to face was the least he deserved.

  She helped clear away after the meal and then went upstairs to get ready. The doorbell rang. That couldn’t be one of the pupils already, could it? It must be later than she had thought. She brushed her hair, curling it under as much as it would go. She ran down the first half of the stairs, turned the corner and – stopped dead. There, in the hall, Aaron stood, cap in hand, looking up at her.

  ‘Look who it is,’ said Vivienne. ‘Mr Abrams has come to see you.’

  ‘I hope you don’t mind,’ he said, ‘but Mrs Rostron gave me your address so I could bring you something from Danny. A letter.’

  Molly came the rest of the way down. ‘You’ve not chosen the best moment, I’m afraid. The house is busy turning from a home into a school.’

  ‘You could sit in the breakfast room,’ suggested Vivienne.

  ‘No.’ Molly reached into the cloakroom for her jacket and cloche hat. ‘I need some fresh air. Let’s pop into the rec.’

  As they left Wilton Close, Aaron said, ‘I was shocked to hear you lost
your job.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘I was going to explain to Danny, but Mrs Rostron had already told him. I gather she was kind to him. She said it wasn’t his fault that you wouldn’t be coming back.’

  Once again Molly heard those words in her head. Anyone can see what’s on the surface. It takes experience to see what’s underneath. Trust Mrs Rostron to make sure that Danny didn’t feel he was to blame for her losing her position.

  They entered the rec by the gate on Cross Road. Here was where Aaron had organised the rounders match. Those trees beside the hedge had provided shade for the nursemaids to sit and watch.

  ‘Shall we sit down?’ Aaron guided her to a bench. ‘Here.’ From his pocket he took a folded piece of paper.

  Molly’s hand trembled as she unfolded it.

  Dear Miss Watson

  Thank you for taking me all the way to Southport to see Dad.

  I am glad I saw him before he died and I think he was glad to see me too. Mum would have been pleased we were together.

  I will never forget what you did for us.

  Love from

  Danny x

  Molly’s eyes filled. Losing her job was a matter of bitter regret, but she could never be sorry for taking Danny to see his father.

  ‘Thank you for bringing this,’ she whispered to Aaron. She couldn’t look up in case he saw her tears. ‘If you get the chance, please tell Danny I’ll treasure his letter.’

  She bent her head over it again, as if re-reading, but actually she couldn’t see a thing.

  ‘St Anthony’s won’t be the same without you,’ Aaron said softly.

  ‘Please don’t be kind or I’ll howl.’ She tried to laugh and had to sniff instead.

  ‘Well, I’m certainly not going to be anything other than kind. Come here.’

  He opened his arms and she slid into them, nestling against his chest, fumbling awkwardly in her pocket until Aaron, keeping one arm securely around her, produced his handkerchief with his other hand and pushed it between her fingers.

  ‘I promise I haven’t used it to clean oil off my bicycle chain.’

  Her shuddery breath turned into a half-laugh.

  ‘That’s better. You have a good cry if you want to.’

  ‘No, really, I’m fine.’

  ‘Liar.’ He spoke softly into her hair. With her ear pressed to his chest, she could feel the rumble of his voice. ‘I’m your friend, Molly Watson. Whatever happens, I’ll stand by you and be proud to do so.’

  ‘Really?’ she breathed.

  ‘Always.’

  The moment drew out. Molly’s fingers, resting lightly on his chest, ached to slide around his ribcage to his back and cling to him. She moved her face, lifting it ever so slightly, then stopped, waited, her heartbeat loud and slow, the blood in her veins taking her longings on a journey around her body. Aaron neither moved nor relaxed his hold, but she sensed withdrawal. Had she made a terrible mistake?

  ‘I apologise,’ he said. ‘I know you have a fellow. I don’t wish to… I would never…’

  ‘It’s not what you think,’ Molly whispered. ‘I’m not spoken for.’ But, oh, how she wanted to be.

  And at last, at long last, Aaron moved, just the tiniest movement, as his face angled down towards her – no, not quite, but almost, just enough of a movement for her to respond to if she wished.

  And she did wish. Oh, she did.

  Raising her face to his, she felt his breath on her cheeks, her lips, as his mouth slowly moved towards hers.

  ‘Oy! What the ruddy hell’s going on here? Get your hands off her, you brute!’

  Startled, Molly moved, or did she? Did she break away from Aaron or did he put her from him as he came to his feet? Norris – Norris! – was approaching at a brisk trot, brows knotted beneath the brim of his hat; he was waving a fist – actually waving a fist in outrage.

  ‘Norris, stop it. Calm down.’

  ‘Calm down?’ he blustered. ‘You sit there canoodling with this man and— Oh my goodness! I’ve just realised who you are.’ He squared up to Aaron. ‘You’re the fellow from the orphanage – the gardener chappy, aren’t you? I remember you doing something with the ivy.’

  ‘Mr Abrams is the caretaker,’ said Molly.

  ‘And he was certainly taking care of you!’

  ‘Norris!’

  ‘I know what I saw.’ He reached for her arm, but she stepped away. ‘I’ve just heard about your job and I came here out of the goodness of my heart and I find – I find…’ He wagged a furious finger at her. ‘You promised me faithfully. You swore there was no one else – and what do I find? How could you, Molly? And in public, too! Well, I hope you know what you’re taking on,’ he spat at Aaron. ‘Has she told you her secret, eh? Has she told you what she did in the war?’

  After landing a hefty shove on Norris’s shirt-front to bowl him aside, there was nothing in Molly’s way, yet she felt like she was having to push past enormous obstacles to get out of the rec and back to Wilton Close. She fumbled with her key, trying to insert it in the lock. Next news, the door was opened from within and there was Vivienne. Molly ducked her head, trying to get inside without showing her distress, but Vivienne caught her shoulder and turned her round.

  ‘What’s happened?’

  Molly waved her hand, an awkward movement, trying to warn Vivienne off. Somehow the hand ended up covering her own mouth. She darted upstairs to her room and closed the door. Her emotional turmoil was such that she expected to hurl herself full-length onto the bed, but somehow she merely sank onto the edge and sat there. Her limbs were impossibly heavy, yet there was a lightness, an emptiness inside her. All around the space was a jagged boundary. If she were to move even a fraction, blade-sharp pain would tear her to pieces from the inside outwards.

  Norris had told her secret.

  He had sworn never to reveal it to a living soul, never never never.

  But that was when they were engaged, when it was in his interests to keep silent.

  Norris had told. Norris had blabbed.

  There was a soft knock on the door. Molly flinched inwardly. Her head was lowered, but her eyes shifted. It was the only movement she could make without shattering into a thousand pieces. In the doorway stood Vivienne, her expression warm with concern. She didn’t ask; she just came inside and sat on the bed. Molly tilted towards her as the mattress dipped.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ Vivienne asked. ‘It’s obvious something has happened.’

  Molly remained utterly still, floundering through mounting distress.

  ‘It’s hard to believe a letter from Daniel Cropper could have this effect,’ Vivienne prodded gently.

  The pain of speaking almost made her throat creak. ‘It was a sweet letter, but I was upset and Aaron… Mr Abrams put his arms round me and – and Norris, my old fiancé, saw us and—’

  ‘He didn’t cause a scene, did he? It’s none of his beeswax, if you’re not engaged any more.’

  Molly shut her eyes, but that only made Norris’s words roar more loudly in her ears. Has she told you her secret, eh? Has she told you what she did in the war? She opened her eyes again and her gaze landed on the floor.

  ‘He’s been hanging on as if I’m going to go back to him.’ How flat her voice sounded. Shouldn’t she be having hysterics? ‘In the end, I made it clear that I wouldn’t and he asked if there was someone else, so of course I said no. There wasn’t. There isn’t.’ She glanced at Vivienne; but if Vivienne had formed an opinion based on Molly’s admission of being found in Aaron’s arms, nothing showed in her face. ‘When he saw us in the rec, Norris had a go at me.’

  ‘As I said: none of his business.’

  ‘It’s worse than that. He…he announced to Mr Abrams that I have a secret, that – that something happened to me in the war.’

  Vivienne nodded, but didn’t answer at once. She wasn’t the sort to rush into hasty responses – or judgements. It was one reason she was so good at her job.

  ‘Did yo
u stop him blurting it out?’

  ‘No, I – I ran for it.’ She scrubbed a palm over her face. ‘God, what a fool. If I’d stayed put, I might have stopped him. As it is…’ Nausea swirled in her stomach. ‘He’s telling Aaron all the gory details right this minute.’

  What would Aaron think of her now? His good opinion, which she seemed to have retained even after Saturday’s escapade, would be trodden in the mud by the time Norris had finished.

  ‘You don’t know that for certain,’ Vivienne said quietly. ‘Maybe Mr Abrams’ – and her use of his title made Molly realise she had blundered into using his first name – ‘didn’t let him. I can’t claim to know Mr Abrams well, but he’s always struck me as a decent sort. I’m not making light of your situation. Please don’t think that. I’m only saying that, even though you think you know what happened after you left, you may not be right.’

  ‘Norris swore to me that he would never speak of it again. He swore.’

  ‘And you believed him.’

  ‘Of course. It would have reflected poorly on him if it had got out. But it was something I had to tell him when he wanted us to get engaged. He had a right to know.’

  ‘Then he’s an out-and-out louse if he breaks your confidence now,’ Vivienne declared.

  ‘Bless you for that.’

  Vivienne’s robust support caused a stirring of warmth deep inside the cold that had invaded Molly, but Vivienne didn’t know what she had done. Would she stand by her if she knew? Would anyone?

  ‘Let me help you off with your jacket and hat,’ said Vivienne, ‘and I’ll take them downstairs for you, then you can have some thinking time.’

  Rising, Molly peeled off her things, but instead of handing them over, she discarded them on the bed.

  ‘Don’t go. You’re being so kind and un-nosy, and I do appreciate it, especially the un-nosy bit, but I don’t want to be on my own.’ She sat down again. ‘Part of me has been all alone since it happened. Even when I told Norris, I knew I was still alone. Before I told him, I thought – I hoped he might share it with me, but that was just me being daft. What man would? He forgave me and that was the end of it.’