Christmas for the Halfpenny Orphans Read online

Page 17


  ‘It’s my night off. I’m not even on call,’ he said. ‘We’ll talk later, Michelle.’

  ‘Oh good, that will be lovely.’

  ‘I shall look forward to it – and now I must speak to Mrs Morton. In Sister Beatrice’s absence, she stands as guardian to Matty and she will need to sign the consent form should he need treatment.’

  Michelle stared after him as he left the ward. She’d considered visiting Alice that evening to deliver some things she’d made for baby Susie, but that could wait. Dismissing Alice’s problems from her mind, she went to sit on the edge of Matty’s bed. Somehow she had to break the news to the boy that he was going into hospital to have tests; she didn’t want him to be frightened at being put in an ambulance and taken to a strange place with nurses he didn’t know. She took his hand, choosing her words carefully and keeping her manner calm and reassuring; it was going to be a traumatic experience for a young lad – especially if Dr Kent’s suspicions were right.

  Michelle was glad that she’d worn a pretty yellow gingham shirtdress to work that morning. The white piqué collar and short sleeves suited her, and she’d cinched the waist in with a wide white belt. She’d had time to comb her raven black hair, which was much easier now that she’d had it cut into a shorter style that framed her face. She’d put on some fresh lipstick and a touch of face powder and knew she looked as good as she could after a day working at the home.

  Inside the pub the smell of fresh paint mingled with the stronger odour of beer and spirits. The square oak tables with Windsor chairs set at various angles about the large saloon bar were attractive and decorated with small vases of artificial flowers and lamps with red shades that gave subdued lighting to what would otherwise have been a dark room. The oak beams running across the ceiling were not original, but they’d been stained to look old and looked good against the white of the ceiling and walls. The pub had been taken over by a husband and wife; the new landlord had been a captain in the Army and limped, but his wife was beauti-ful, with dark hair and eyes, and looked a bit Italian. She was offering bar food, salads and bowls of pasta, unusual cheeses and slices of what looked like sausage, and fresh crusty bread, very different from the tasteless meat pies that had been sold here before the war. If this was an example of what things would be like now the war was over, Michelle decided she liked it; the East End needed something to haul it out of the neglect and poverty of the last few years.

  Dr Kent had found a table near the window, which was slightly open. He saw her as she entered and lifted a hand to greet her. Michelle’s heart jumped as she returned his smile; he smiled so seldom that it was all the more welcome when it occurred. She wondered what had happened to him to give him that habitually sombre air.

  ‘I’m not late, am I?’

  ‘No, you’re not late,’ he said. ‘I was early – I thought I might as well reserve a table. This place gets busy in the evenings.’

  ‘Yes, I suppose it does. We came in for a drink on Nan’s birthday, but I haven’t been for a meal here. I imagine they do decent food.’

  ‘Would you like something to eat? Are you hungry?’

  ‘No, not at all. We’re well fed at St Saviour’s – and my mother will cook supper when I get home. I was only wondering what it was like here. Some of us go out as a group occasionally – though Alice is married now, and Sally left us … but I expect I’ll get to know the new girls soon enough.’

  ‘Yes, I dare say,’ he agreed. ‘Do you get a lot of girls leaving?’

  ‘The carers come and go. Sally had been with us longer than anyone except Nan. I don’t know if you heard what happened to Mr Markham?’

  ‘Yes, I did – terrible accident. Such a shame. I understand he was a brilliant surgeon.’

  ‘He wrote children’s books too. We still read them to the children,’ Michelle said. She sipped the cool lemonade shandy she’d ordered and wondered why he’d asked her out. Was it just to talk about work? She’d thought he might be interested in her personally, but now she wasn’t sure. When he smiled he seemed a different person, and sometimes, when their eyes met, she thought he liked her, but there was some inner reserve that was like a barrier between him and the rest of the world.

  ‘I think perhaps it’s time for me to go,’ she said after they’d talked some more about St Saviour’s and her colleagues. ‘Thank you for the drink. It was very nice.’

  ‘Please, call me Richard,’ he said. ‘Perhaps not in the wards, but outside. I’ve enjoyed our time together, Michelle. We must do it again one day.’

  He stood up and offered his hand as Michelle rose to leave. His clasp was firm and strong and she was thoughtful as she left him standing there, gazing after her. She wasn’t sure what Dr Kent wanted from her. A quiet drink with a colleague – or something more? Shaking her head as she tried to work out why she’d been asked for that drink, she ran to catch her bus home. Dr Kent was still as much of a mystery to her as he had been before that evening … and she would be an idiot if she let herself think about him too much. She didn’t want to get caught up in another affair that was going nowhere.

  TWENTY-ONE

  Alice had been down and depressed. It was lonely in the flat with no friends or family to talk to. She’d been brooding over the business with Jack Shaw and missing Bob’s company. Her mood lifted when she opened the front door of her flat to find Nan there. ‘I’m so pleased you’ve come,’ she said. ‘I was sitting here wondering what to do for a couple of hours. I’ve put Susie down for the night and there’s nothing on the radio I want to listen to – I don’t feel like knitting or reading.’

  ‘I’ve been sorting out some things,’ Nan explained. ‘I found this doll down the market and thought your Susie might like it – I think it’s a rag doll, old fashioned, but it looks as good as new.’

  ‘It’s lovely. I’ll give it to her when she’s old enough to appreciate it – thank you for thinking of me. Everyone has been so kind since my baby was born. I’ve had loads of presents. Mave is always bringing me things. She dotes on Susie.’

  ‘Well, she is beautiful,’ Nan said. ‘I’ve got the night off so I thought I’d pop round and see how you were – are you managing all right, Alice?’

  ‘Yes, thanks, Nan,’ Alice said, trying to be cheerful. ‘You’ll never believe what I did today – I popped in to see Sister Beatrice. She was sitting up and feeling much better, so she said – and she’s looking forward to returning to work.’

  ‘She’d come back if she could, but the doctors won’t let her.’

  ‘Yes, she said they’ve told her she has to take a holiday by the sea first.’ Alice sighed. ‘I’m hoping to get back to work too, once Susie is a bit older and off the breast. Only for a few hours a day – Michelle’s mum is going to look after her two days a week. It’s not the money – Bob gives me all I need. It’s more that I enjoy the company.’

  ‘Yes, you should come back if you can. In the meantime, bring Susie in sometimes to show her off. Everyone would love to see you both,’ Nan said. ‘We’ve had a new girl on the carers’ staff. I like Tilly, but she’s not as thorough as you were. Angela had to reprimand her today, but I dare say she’ll settle when she knows us.’

  Alice was putting the kettle on. She lit the gas and then smiled at her. ‘Do you want to see my Susie?’

  ‘Yes please,’ Nan said and followed her into the small bedroom, where the cot was standing. Alice had painted the room white and decorated the walls with pictures of ducks and kittens she’d cut out of a magazine and pasted on blank paper; her curtains were a pretty pink cotton and the bedcovers white.

  ‘I’ve been making things nice for her since she arrived. Michelle’s mum is teaching me to sew. I go twice a week – I look forward to having someone to talk to as much as the lessons. The neighbours here keep themselves to themselves and I don’t see much of them. Still, Michelle comes to visit after work quite often.’

  ‘She was planning to come this evening, but someone asked her out so I said
I wanted to visit you.’

  ‘Has Eric come home on leave?’

  ‘I think she was meeting Dr Kent.’ Nan smiled down at Alice’s baby, who was looking up at her with sleepy big blue eyes. ‘She was upset over one of the children – Matty went into hospital this morning and they think it may be serious.’

  ‘Oh, that’s awful,’ Alice said, immediately concerned. ‘Michelle always pretends she doesn’t get upset if the children get really sick – but she frets inside.’

  ‘I think we all do,’ Nan said. ‘I lost my son and husband to diphtheria; it happened years ago, but when a little one’s sick it brings back the memories.’

  ‘That must be terrible for you,’ Alice said, bending over the cot to hide her emotions. ‘Isn’t she beautiful?’

  ‘Oh yes,’ Nan leaned towards Alice’s baby to touch the child’s tiny fist. ‘She is adorable, Alice. Eddie loves her. He hopes you’ll let us be her nanny and grandpa – he’s back in London now and has made up his mind to stay.’

  ‘I like your Eddie, Nan.’ She tipped her head to one side. ‘Are you going to marry him?’

  ‘Goodness me, no!’ Nan said. ‘We’re just good friends – but neither of us has much family now and we’d like to see more of you and the baby – and Bob too, when he’s home.’

  ‘Yes, of course, I’d like to come round,’ Alice said. ‘I miss being at home with my sister – and you know Mum still won’t speak to me.’

  ‘Your mother is a foolish woman,’ Nan said. ‘It’s true you shouldn’t have gone with that Jack Shaw, Alice, but you’re not the first lass to get in trouble. Your mother is missing so much: all these early months of Susie’s life, her first smile, and then when she starts to walk and talk …’

  ‘Dad comes now and then. He’s miserable at home, but he tried leaving her once and it didn’t work. Mave is fed up too; she wants to get married but her boyfriend says they can’t afford it yet.’

  ‘What about you?’ Nan asked as Alice poured them both a cup of tea and brought out some almond shortbread biscuits she’d made. ‘Are you happy, Alice?’

  ‘Yes, most of the time,’ Alice said, her eyes not meeting Nan’s. ‘When Bob is home it’s fine, but when he’s away I sometimes think … But that’s all in the past. Jack must be in America now. I hope he is. He’ll forget about me and make a new life out there – and I’ll forget in time.’

  ‘Try not to think of him,’ Nan said. ‘You chose to marry Bob, Alice – and he’s given you so much.’

  ‘I know,’ Alice said, stifling a sigh. ‘I’m lucky – but I loved Jack, I really did. It’s hard to get over something like that.’

  ‘It took me ages to get over losing my husband and my son, so I understand how you feel.’

  ‘Oh, Nan; I shouldn’t moan. I’m sorry if I said something to bring all those memories back – I wouldn’t do that for the world.’

  ‘It’s all right,’ Nan smiled. ‘I don’t often think of it these days – but sometimes it comes back and then I feel their loss as if it were yesterday … and my daughter is in that convent and I accept she’s happy there and will never come home …’

  ‘I’m so sorry, Nan.’

  ‘Don’t be sorry, my love.’ Nan smiled at her. ‘I’ve got you and your little one now, Alice, and that makes up for a lot.’

  ‘Oh, Nan, I’m glad I’ve got you,’ Alice said and poured her another cup of tea. ‘And yes, I’d love you and Eddie to be Susie’s nanny and grandpa – and you’ll be one of her godmothers too when we have her christened, won’t you?’

  Alice closed the door behind her visitor and shot the bolt across. She wouldn’t have any more visitors at this time of night. Returning to the kitchen, she washed the cups and rinsed out the teapot, before hanging the cloth up to dry. About to switch out the light and go up to bed, she heard heavy banging at her back door and froze. No one came that way, because it meant climbing a high wall into her yard, but she’d always been afraid someone might. Had one of Butcher Lee’s men come calling at this hour?

  For a moment she couldn’t move, but then she walked towards the door, saying in a loud voice, ‘I’m not going to let you in. Go away, whoever you are or I’ll call the police.’

  ‘Alice, it’s me. I had to come this way. I couldn’t be seen at the front.’

  Her breath caught and for a second she thought she might faint. She pressed closer to the door, listening hard. ‘Is that you, Jack?’

  ‘Yes, of course it’s me. Let me in, love.’

  Alice drew a sharp breath and turned the key, opening the door slightly so that she could see him in the light of the street lamp behind the wall. Yet she knew that voice; it couldn’t have been anyone else but Jack.

  He pushed the door back quickly, entered, shut it and locked it behind him. Alice’s breath caught: with his black hair and blue eyes he was every bit as handsome as he’d always been.

  ‘I don’t think anyone saw me, but we’ll make sure they can’t surprise us. Is the front door locked?’

  ‘I locked it after Nan left – she’s from St Saviour’s …’ For a moment she stared at him, her heart beating wildly, then, ‘Oh, Jack, is it truly you?’

  ‘Pleased to see me, Alice?’ he laughed, then grabbed her, looking down into her face before he kissed her on the mouth. Alice felt her whole body tingle. For a moment she clung to him as the need and longing surged through her and she remembered how much she’d loved him. She wanted so desperately to hold him to her and never let him leave her again, but after a moment she drew away, looking at him suspiciously as he asked, ‘Why didn’t you come to meet me?’

  Alice avoided his question by asking a few of her own. ‘Everyone thought you’d died in that fire. Arthur told the police it was you that blew the safe – how could you have got out? The fire was so fierce …’

  ‘The bloody safe was empty,’ Jack said, and glared at her as if it was her fault. ‘All that effort and they’d put the money somewhere else. I got out down the fire escape at the back. I always make sure there’s more than one way out before I do a place. No one saw me. They were all round the front looking at the fire and running round like scared rabbits!’ He laughed as if amused by the memory.

  Alice stared at him, feeling cold all over. ‘What about the man who died at the factory? They found a body at the bottom of the stairs – who was it, Jack?’

  ‘Some down-and-out sleeping rough; the watchman let him come in to keep warm and he was going to give the alarm. We had to keep him quiet.’

  ‘Arthur Baggins told the police it was you that killed him before the fire, Jack.’

  ‘He would, wouldn’t he?’ Jack said. ‘Who would you rather believe, Alice – a petty thief or me? You know I wouldn’t lie to you, love.’

  She wanted to believe him, of course she did, and yet she couldn’t ignore the chill at her nape. ‘I believe you.’ Alice’s fingers touched lips that still tingled from his kiss. ‘Jack, you shouldn’t have kissed me – I shouldn’t have let you,’ she croaked. ‘I’m married to Bob now, didn’t you know?’

  ‘Someone may have told me,’ he said carelessly, but his gaze narrowed and she saw anger in his face. ‘Why didn’t you wait for me, Alice? I told you I’d come for you and the kid. You’ve had a girl, ain’t you?’

  ‘Yes,’ she whispered, her throat tight. Her heart was beating so hard that she could hardly breathe let alone think. ‘It was so hard, Jack. Ma threw me out and I was going to have to leave my work. You left me all alone without a word to let me know you were still alive, what was I supposed to think? I didn’t know what to do and Bob got me this place. He offered me marriage …’ She let a small sob escape. ‘I couldn’t come to meet you after that – could I?’

  ‘Why not?’ he demanded. ‘You could at least have told me yourself, instead of letting me find out from someone else. I wasn’t going to sell you off to the white slave traders, was I?’

  Alice gave a weak smile. ‘I was afraid of what I’d do if I came …’ she stopped, the
tears welling. ‘It wouldn’t be right, Jack – not after all this.’

  ‘He took what belongs to me,’ Jack said fiercely. ‘You’re mine, not his. I’ve come to get you, Alice. I want you to pack your stuff and I’ll take it with me. You can leave in the morning and meet me in Southend. You must shake off those shadows Butcher Lee sent to follow you or you’ll lead them to me, but if you’ve only got the baby they won’t take so much notice. I’ll get your stuff away and join you at this address …’ He handed her a scrap of paper. ‘You’ve still got the key I sent you, haven’t you?’

  ‘Yes and the money – I’ll give them back to you …’

  ‘No, Alice. I want you to fetch the stuff from that locker like I asked you. It’s important to me – to both of us.’

  ‘It’s that pinched stuff, isn’t it?’ Alice stared at him reproachfully. ‘I daren’t, Jack. The Lee gang are watching me. I wondered why they still kept watching me if you were dead and now I know. It’s because they know you aren’t dead and they think you will use me to fetch the stuff … and it’s that they want, isn’t it?’

  ‘That stuff is the only reason they haven’t killed me already. They know I’ve got it hidden somewhere and they want it.’

  ‘Why don’t you just send them the key and leave England? Go to America – get away while you still can …’

  ‘Not without what I came for. I want what’s in that locker, Alice – and I want you and my daughter. You belong to me – both of you.’ He took hold of her upper arms, looking at her intently. ‘Where is she? What did you call her? I want to see her.’

  ‘Susie, I called her Susie, but she’s sleeping and it took me ages to get her off. I don’t want to wake her.’

  ‘All right, but remember she’s my kid and you’re mine too, even if you have got that Army bloke’s ring on your finger.’

  ‘Oh, Jack …’ Alice felt the tears welling inside her. He was persuading her, as he had so often in the past, sapping her will with his eyes and that smile, but could she believe him? She wanted to go with him, but she mustn’t – she mustn’t! She couldn’t trust him to take care of her and Susie. ‘No, I can’t – I can’t do that, Jack. It would be cruel and hurtful to Bob.’