Christmas for the Halfpenny Orphans Page 15

  Her throat tightened, but Wendy knew she was only one of thousands of women who’d lost the man they loved to that awful war. She didn’t know why, but there had never been anyone else since. Perhaps it was because she was too busy being a nurse and then looking after her mother, but she’d never looked at another man – and she didn’t think anyone had looked at her twice. She wasn’t exactly a Brighton beauty queen: there was nothing remarkable about her at all, at least in her own eyes. Yet Jim had loved her and she would always be grateful for the memory.

  ‘Wendy sad?’ Sarah pulled at her sleeve and Wendy looked down. Sarah had picked up on her mood. She was such a sensitive child. ‘Wendy not cry …’

  ‘No, darling, I shan’t cry,’ Wendy said, and bent to hug her, flinging away years of being told she mustn’t be too soft over the children. ‘I’ve got you to love now, haven’t I?’

  Sarah hugged her back. ‘Wendy not be sad. Samantha and Sarah love Wendy.’

  ‘Wendy loves you too, darling.’

  ‘Sarah want Samantha.’

  ‘Yes, I know, but she’s at school,’ Wendy said. ‘Perhaps she’ll come when she can.’

  Blinking back her tears, Wendy thought about everything Sarah had had to put up with in her young life, yet she remained gentle, sweet and loving. She resolved to do whatever she could to help Angela in her fight to make sure the child stayed with them.

  Somehow she didn’t feel anywhere near as lonely as she had when she first came to St Saviour’s. It was as if this place had something enchanted about it, reaching out to embrace them – children, nurses, carers and all – like a special kind of family.

  She turned as the door of the sick room opened and Nan came in, carrying a tray. ‘I thought you could do with a nice cup of tea – and there are a few buns I baked myself. I thought you might like them for the children …’ She bent down to offer one to Sarah. ‘Hello, lovey; I’m glad you’re back with us. Eat your bun and I’ll take you down to Nancy, shall I?’

  ‘You’re so kind and thoughtful,’ Wendy said. ‘I’m really glad I came here to work.’

  ‘Good, that’s what we like to hear,’ Nan said, smiling back at her. ‘I’m pleased you’re settling in, Wendy. We need nice kind nurses like you.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Wendy watched as the head carer gathered up some dirty glasses and cups. In most places a woman in Nan’s position wouldn’t dream of doing the jobs she did, but Nan was more like a mother to her girls than a boss.

  As she left the room, talking to Sarah and encouraging her, Wendy thought it was Nan and people like her that made this place what it was. She hoped that, with time, perhaps she and Nan could become friends. She needed a few of those, having given up her own life to look after her mother. Maybe now she could start to live for herself again …

  Angela put the letter she’d finished writing into the file she’d started on the twins. She must contact Children’s Welfare and get some legal advice today to see what they could do about Samantha. Miss Jane May must surely have been aware of her brother’s neglect of his daughters and his brutality toward them when he was drunk, so why hadn’t she taken the girls away then? She’d sensed Sarah’s fear of her aunt and her instincts told her that Miss May was not a good person. If she’d kept Samantha, it was because the child was of use to her, and not because she cared about her happiness. Yet Angela had no proof that the woman was unkind, even though her sharp tongue had upset Sarah.

  If she was to convince the authorities to intervene, Angela needed to prove that the spinster aunt was not fit to care for Samantha – and to make certain that the twins could be reunited at St Saviour’s. As things stood, the law was on Miss May’s side, despite the cruel manner in which she’d relinquished responsibility for Sarah. Even if Angela were to argue that the woman’s motive for keeping Samantha was a selfish one, the Welfare people would insist the child was better off with a relative. Miss May would no doubt tell them that Sarah was backward and needed special care, while Samantha could benefit from a loving home – as if that woman were capable of offering a loving home! And how could Samantha be happy without her sister? Judging by the way she’d cared for Sarah, she would be distraught when she got home from school and realised what her aunt had done.

  ‘I’ve got to get her away from that woman!’ Angela muttered as she left the office. She would have liked to consult Sister Beatrice but the nun still wasn’t well enough to be troubled. In the meantime, Angela had a mountain of work to get through and no idea how to start the long campaign she suspected would be needed to wrest Samantha from that woman’s grasp.

  Angela began her rounds with the sick ward, where two children were laid up with a tummy bug. At the moment the isolation ward was empty. Timmy Bent, the boy who was recovering from polio, would be occupying that ward soon. Angela had consulted Sister, who thought it best to keep him isolated until they were certain he was well enough to mix with the others. At least now that the new wing was open they had the luxury of empty beds, and for the past week there had been no new arrivals to fill them. Angela suspected it was the lull before the storm, but she could only be glad of it. They could do without emergency admissions right now.

  Wendy was still on duty in the sick ward when Angela entered. She had been preparing a trolley with various bowls, towels and soap, and was apparently about to give one of the children a wash. As she turned to greet Angela, the small boy in the third bed made a retching sound and was sick all over his sheets.

  ‘Oh dear, that’s the third time Dickon has been sick since Nan asked me to take him in this morning.’

  ‘So that’s why we have three patients now,’ Angela said. ‘What is this tummy trouble, Wendy? Is it something they’ve eaten or a bug that’s going round?’

  ‘I think it’s a vomiting bug that is going round the schools. I was talking to Tilly earlier and she says that several of her neighbours have children down with it, so I suppose we were bound to get a few cases. Try not to worry, Angela. It’s normally not serious and only lasts a day or so, but it may spread through our children. We could have several more cases go down before the week’s out.’

  ‘It’s just as well that I’ve secured the services of another qualified nurse then,’ Angela said. ‘She’ll start in a couple of weeks – on a purely temporary basis, until Sister Beatrice returns. I’m assured she has experience in treating polio victims, and Timmy is going to need help with his leg. Let’s hope this bug doesn’t turn into an epidemic in the meantime.’

  ‘Indeed,’ Wendy said. ‘Be sure to wash your hands before you leave the ward, Angela – and don’t go near Dickon – he’s still at the infectious stage.’

  Angela nodded. ‘We shall have to set up a strict no-entry policy for members of staff that do not need to come into the ward – and that includes me, unless I gown up.’ She smiled at Wendy. ‘Where is Sarah?’

  ‘With Nancy,’ Wendy said. ‘Tilly has put her back in Mary Ellen and Marion’s room.’

  ‘Good idea; she knows them and she may settle,’ Angela said, dutifully washing her hands before leaving Wendy to clear up after her young patient. The nurse had only been in the job a few months, but she was proving herself now, thrown in at the deep end with no Sister Beatrice for guidance. Angela only hoped they didn’t get a flood of new admissions while the vomiting bug was taking its course.

  When she made her way into the new wing there were only a handful of children in the playroom, today being a school day. Nancy was with them, overseeing their games and keeping them in order. Like Wendy, she was doing very well in her new role, probably because she’d spent years caring for her brother Terry before they were brought here. No doubt she would make an excellent carer when she finally left school. At the moment, Nancy was training for her future by taking some classes in school and doing practical work, like cooking and sewing, at the home. The arrangement had been Sister Beatrice’s idea, and it seemed to be working well.

  ‘Good morning, Nancy,’ Angela said as the gi
rl turned to greet her. ‘How is everyone? None of your charges are sick, I hope?’

  ‘No, they all seem well,’ Nancy said. ‘We’ve been reading books and working on puzzles. Some of the children want to make their own, so I’ve been helping with that.’

  ‘What a lovely idea,’ Angela said.

  Nancy smiled, pleased at the compliment. ‘Tilly’s been really nice to me, helping me to come up with ideas and suggesting things the children can do to earn points. I like her.’

  ‘Well, I’m sure a puzzle would be worth a couple of stars,’ Angela said, looking round and spying Sarah sitting alone near the toy box. ‘How is Sarah?’

  ‘She seems to have taken to that broken doll, the one with the cracked face. We’ve been making some clothes for it.’

  ‘At least she’s stopped crying.’

  ‘Yes, but she simply sits holding the doll and singing to herself.’

  ‘She misses her sister. If you notice anything unusual about her behaviour – tell me or one of the nurses, Nancy.’

  ‘How do you mean, “unusual”?’

  ‘I’m not sure.’ Angela frowned. ‘I’d be grateful if you’d keep an eye on her, that’s all. I’m worried about her.’

  ‘Yes, she does look pale, doesn’t she.’

  Angela couldn’t be certain, but she sensed that Sarah had been badly treated by her aunt. If only the twins had never been handed over to that woman – Angela hadn’t liked her from the start and she wouldn’t put anything past her – which made it all the more urgent that she find a way of getting Samantha back to St Saviour’s.

  As she walked back to her office she made up her mind to ask Mark over. If anyone could help her find a way to ensure Samantha was safe, it was him. She would have dearly loved to invite him round this evening, but unfortunately she had to attend another charity meeting. It wasn’t something she was looking forward to. More than likely, Henry Arnold would be there. And, for all his charm, she still couldn’t bring herself to trust him.

  NINETEEN

  ‘I hear you’ve requested one of the newly restored houses for a family you’ve taken an interest in?’ Henry Arnold raised his brows. His dark good looks were enhanced that evening by the navy pinstripe suit and crisp white shirt he wore, his tie blue and held by a gold pin. Something about his smooth air of assurance made Angela glad that she’d had her own hair cut recently into a stylish bob; it suited her and the heather-blue skirt and pale blue twinset she had on reflected the azure of her eyes. Worn with Cuban heels and her pearls, it made her look what she was: an intelligent, efficient woman from a middle class background, and if there were faint lines at the corners of her eyes they didn’t detract from the image she wanted to convey.

  When she spoke it was with crisp purpose and confidence. ‘Yes, the Mason family. Kelly Mason works for us and her mother is always ill, thanks to the damp conditions they live in, so I’m hoping to move her to the top of the list.’

  ‘Well, you can count on my support,’ he said and smiled, his gaze seeming to draw her into his orbit. ‘We’ve no need to be enemies, Angela.’

  ‘No, of course not …’ Angela hesitated. She needed advice and she’d rung Mark twice that day without success. ‘Tell me, Mr Arnold – do you know of a good lawyer who does not ask the earth for his advice?’

  ‘Are you in need of some?’

  ‘It’s on behalf of one of the children at St Saviour’s,’ she said. Now that he’d been accepted as a member of the Board she could hardly keep secrets from him. ‘We had twins with us. Their father was abusive and they had been neglected. Their aunt subsequently took them both in, but now it seems she only wants one of them; she claims the other girl, Sarah, is retarded and ought to be put away. Mark Adderbury disagrees; the girl is sweet-natured and responds well, given kindness and patience. Thankfully, she is back with us once more – but I fear she is pining for her sister. And I’m certain Samantha is equally unhappy at her aunt’s. We feel it would be better if the twins were together at St Saviour’s.’

  ‘You don’t think the other girl is better off with her aunt?’

  ‘No, I’m convinced the aunt only wants to use her. I’m not saying she abuses the child, but she stood by when their father did and made no attempt to intervene. And she was so sharp with both girls when she came to St Saviour’s to collect them, I don’t believe she is a fit person to have charge of the child.’

  ‘I might be able to help you with that,’ he said and looked thoughtful. ‘I don’t believe you need the services of a solicitor, Angela. It will be quicker and simpler if I speak to someone I know.’

  ‘This is a matter for Children’s Welfare, but if they refuse to listen I may have to go to the magistrates – and for that I need legal advice.’

  ‘No, you need someone who knows someone and can have a quiet word. What is the aunt like? Have you done any research into her background?’

  ‘I haven’t had time as yet,’ Angela admitted. ‘I won’t rest until I do, though. I saw the look in Samantha’s eyes when her aunt came for her – she felt we’d let her down. Unfortunately our hands were tied: Miss May had an order from the Welfare people.’

  ‘I’m sure the welfare officers would not have given the girl to her aunt if they thought she might harm her. I happen to know one of the senior officers in the Children’s Welfare department: Miss Ruth Sampson. Let me speak to her – but I’ll need you to draw up a report on the case, as well as one from Mark Adderbury.’

  ‘I’ve already typed up my report and can give you a duplicate, but I would need to retype the report Mark did for us when the girls were first admitted to St Saviour’s.’

  ‘One of my office staff will do that. I’ll collect the papers tomorrow.’

  ‘Well, I suppose …’

  Henry Arnold frowned at her. ‘Surely you can trust me not to do anything that would harm the interests of the children, Angela? I know you and Sister Beatrice consider yourself their guardians, but I’m not Lucifer, you know.’

  His eyes seemed to mock her and Angela felt herself colouring. She was making her distrust so obvious despite the fact he was offering to save St Saviour’s the cost of a solicitor’s time.

  ‘Well, yes, I suppose it would be all right – but I was hoping to see the Welfare officer myself. I want to explain my reasons for believing the twins are better off with us …’

  ‘I could probably arrange that, but I’d like to see those reports first. I suppose it hasn’t occurred to you to get another doctor’s opinion on the girl?’

  ‘Why? Mark gives his services free of charge and he is a well-respected psychiatrist—’

  ‘Despite failing to identify the threat posed by a dangerous child who went on to violently assault Sister Beatrice?’

  Angela felt her hackles rise. How dare he criticise Mark?

  ‘That was hardly Mark’s fault. He erred on the side of mercy and caution. We none of us wished to condemn Terry to life in an asylum. And none of us foresaw that he would attack Sister Beatrice.’

  ‘Yet perhaps Adderbury should have been prepared for a violent reaction, based on the child’s troubled history?’

  ‘You are speculating. There was no way of foretelling what the boy would do – I think you should speak more carefully.’

  ‘Are you aware that Adderbury will have to face an inquiry over the incident? I am merely suggesting that his judgement is liable to be called into question. Perhaps if another opinion was sought it might be helpful, in the circumstances.’

  Angela held back the furious retort that trembled on her tongue. She hadn’t realised that Mark was facing a hearing. He had not neglected his duty and she was certain that his name would be cleared – but if the council wished to be difficult over this business of Samantha and Sarah they might bring it up; it might be suggested that the same thing could happen again, though Sarah was the gentlest of souls.

  ‘What do you suggest?’ Angela asked, swallowing her indignation that anyone could doubt Mark Adderbury�
��s judgement. If he’d waited too long to remove a troubled boy from St Saviour’s, his motives had been kindness and concern, not neglect.

  ‘I could send someone I know to talk to the girl,’ Henry Arnold said. ‘He’s a consultant psychiatrist at a London hospital. I will arrange everything – and settle his fee.’ Seeing that she was still hesitating, he reached across and took her hand. ‘I only want to help, Angela – to make certain that you get your wish and that no terrible consequences result from it. Mr Yarwood will visit you in your office and then observe the child at play, perhaps talk to her for a while. If I let him have Adderbury’s report he will know what he’s looking for and it should take only one brief visit to confirm Adderbury’s assessment – surely you can see the merit of having two opinions rather than one?’

  Angela withdrew her hand from his grasp. She was very aware of the sensual pull of his personality; the very arrogance that she disliked was what made him attractive as a man – or a lover. She crushed that thought immediately.

  The twins’ welfare was paramount; if another psychiatrist confirmed Mark’s diagnosis, it would certainly help rather than hinder – hard as it was for her to accept the insult to Mark’s integrity.

  ‘Very well, please send your friend to see us. And I will see that the reports are ready for you tomorrow. As a member of the Board you are entitled to see any documents you wish.’

  ‘Good, I’m glad you see the sense of it, Angela – and I’m sure I can get Ruth to view your request in a favourable light. If we can make a case for the girls being together it would seem clear-cut. This aunt returned the vulnerable child to you and in doing so may have forfeited her rights over the other – provided we can prove that both may suffer as a result. I believe she would be forced by the Welfare department to give Samantha up. I’ll set it all in motion at once.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Angela felt the words would choke her, but she got them out and again saw laughter in his eyes. He was obviously well aware of her feelings and amused by her reaction.