Christmas for the Halfpenny Orphans

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‘It would have,’ she admitted. ‘I’ve only got a bit of yellow fish for tea – or we could get pie and chips from the shop, if you’d rather, then have the fish in the morning with some bread.’

‘I don’t go much on that sort of stuff,’ Bob told her. ‘You have it tomorrow, Alice. I’ll take you out this evening – we’ll have steak and kidney pie at that pub we went to last time I was home. They always do a good meal there.’

‘Yes, all right,’ Alice agreed. In truth she was exhausted after helping with the teas, even though it had been fun and all the St Saviour’s girls had made a fuss of Susie, picking her up when she cried and spoiling her, but Alice wasn’t about to tell Bob that she would rather stay at home. ‘I’ll make us a cup of tea and then get changed.’

‘No, you go and put your feet up for a minute,’ Bob said. ‘I’ll make us a cuppa and then you can take your time getting ready. Mave said she’ll be over in an hour to take care of Susie for us.’

As he disappeared into the kitchen, Alice lifted Susie out of her pram and hugged the sleeping baby to her. It was a good thing that Bob had come back unexpectedly, she thought. All the way home Alice had been wondering if it was too late to catch the train to Southend – and now she was glad that she wouldn’t have to think about it any more. She’d had a timely reminder that she was married to a decent man and would be a fool to throw it all away for a rogue like Jack Shaw.

Alice was aware of being watched as she and Bob ate their meal in the pub. The atmosphere was a bit smoky but that didn’t stop her enjoying the tasty food and the glass of lemonade shandy she’d had with it. Bob had offered her the usual port and lemon, but Alice thought she might be better off sticking to a weak shandy, with more lemonade than beer.

‘Only until the baby’s weaned,’ she told him with a smile. ‘I don’t want her to be a drunkard, do I?’

She was enjoying the unexpected treat and didn’t particularly notice the man staring at them until Bob had finished his plum tart and custard. She touched him with her foot under the table and he looked startled.

‘We’re being watched,’ she said. ‘He’s sitting to your right – in the corner – and he’s been staring at us for a while.’

‘Perhaps he’s envying me my lovely wife,’ Bob quipped before glancing over his shoulder. The smile was gone from his face as he turned back to her. ‘I know him – he’s one of Butcher Lee’s henchmen. Let him look, Alice, we’re not doing any harm and nor is he – but if he follows us home I’ll tackle him.’

‘He or someone like him has been following me for weeks, ever since you were home last time.’

Bob frowned. ‘You didn’t tell me. Why didn’t you write and tell me, Alice?’

‘I try to ignore them. I know why they follow me – in case I meet Jack Shaw.’

‘How’re you supposed to do that – he’s dead …’ His eyes narrowed intently. ‘Alice, what’s going on? Don’t tell me he’s alive?’ She inclined her head slightly and he frowned. ‘Bloody hell! How do you know – have you seen him?’

‘No. I wouldn’t,’ Alice said, but her cheeks were warm because she knew how close she’d come to taking that train. ‘It’s over, Bob. He let me down and I’m with you now.’

‘I can’t stop you if you want to go to him, Alice, but—’

‘I wouldn’t go, Bob. Even if I knew where to find him.’

Bob leaned towards her, taking her hand where it rested on the table. ‘You’ve heard from him, haven’t you?’

Alice hesitated, and then nodded. ‘He sent me two pounds and asked me to meet him today – but I went to the jumble sale instead.’

‘What about the money?’

‘It’s in the drawer at home. I didn’t know what to do with it. I’d send it back, only I don’t have an address for him. I certainly don’t want it.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes …’ Alice met his eyes, seeing the hurt and the fear – fear that she would leave him, and suddenly she felt wretched for even entertaining the thought. ‘I did love him once, Bob, but I never trusted him. You’ve been good to me and I wouldn’t hurt you for the world. I do care for you, you must know I do – and I trust you to look after me and the child.’

‘Good,’ he said and smiled. ‘You leave the Lee gang to me, Alice. I’ll have a word with someone I know and he’ll warn them off. I don’t want them bothering you again.’

‘Be careful, Bob.’ Alice felt a flicker of fear. ‘I don’t want you to be hurt.’

He grinned at her. ‘I’ll be careful – as careful as I need to be. I’ve told you before; I can take care of myself.’

Alice couldn’t bring herself to remind him of the speeding car that had knocked him down earlier that year. She’d since been told that the attempt on his life had been intended as a warning to her not to step out of line, but she couldn’t let Bob know or he might do something reckless.

Alice glanced at the table where the watcher had been sitting and saw he’d gone. She told Bob and he laughed, taking out his wallet to settle the bill.

‘He must have known what I was saying,’ Bob said. ‘I’ll make sure they stay away from you, love – you must keep ignoring them and I’ll do the rest.’

Alice didn’t answer. Being shadowed hadn’t scared her, but the thought of what the Lee gang would do to them both if Bob tried to stand up to them made her blood run cold. Bob thought he could take care of himself – and perhaps he could in a fair fight – but the Lee gang didn’t believe in fighting fair. They’d set the boot factory on fire to get even with Arthur and Jack for taking something that belonged to them – it didn’t bear thinking about what they would do to Jack if they ever caught up with him.

Alice lingered as she browsed the stalls in Spitalfields. The covered market, situated off the busy Commercial Street, was open seven days a week and in all weathers. Almost everything you could want was available here, from fruit and vegetables to cheese and fish, long rolls of cloth and remnants, boots, books, second-hand goods of every description, cheap Indian rugs, umbrellas, handbags, and fresh flowers. The scent of lilies wafting from the flower stalls was so overpowering, Alice began to feel a headache coming on. As if that wasn’t enough, Susie had woken up in her pram and was beginning to whimper. Alice put a dummy in the baby’s mouth and rocked the pram. She would be glad to get home, because right now she was cold and tired and desperate for a cup of tea.

Alice had bought some terry towelling, which she planned to make into more nappies for Susie, and now she was ready to buy the fruit she would take with her to Michelle’s house when she went for her sewing lesson. She was disappointed to see there were no bananas this week; it had been so nice to see them back after seven years without, but they were still thin on the ground. Fortunately there were some lovely big black grapes on offer, so Alice decided to buy a bag of those instead. She paid her money and was turning to leave when a young lad came up to her. He grabbed her arm, giving her an odd look.

‘I reckon you dropped this,’ he said, and pressed something into her hand. Alice was about to say that it wasn’t hers when she realised it was a note of some kind. The lad winked at her and went off, disappearing into the crowds.

Alice glanced at it and realised it was a note from Jack. She hesitated, knowing that she should throw it away, but instead she put it into her pocket, too cold and fed up to look at it now. She was tired and her head was throbbing as she made her way quickly to the tram stop. Moments later a tram arrived and she got on, grateful to the conductor who lifted the pram on for her, folding it and tucking it in the luggage rack under the steps to the upper deck. Alice cradled Susie in the crook of her arm as she fumbled for her purse to pay her fare. Susie would be ready for her feed when she got home and then Alice would be able to put her feet up and relax with a nice hot cup of tea. Except it was hard to relax when she thought about the letter in her pocket. Jack obviously wasn’t about to give up on her, but Alice had made up her mind – she wasn’t going to fetch that stuff for him however many letters he sent her …

ELEVEN (#ulink_ca1f9a5d-896b-5299-9f1f-46e8df583eb5)

‘Angela, I want to talk to you about the new children …’ Sister Beatrice said, entering her office as she was typing up the monthly report. ‘I know they’re with Mary Ellen and Marion in their new dorm now and I’d like you to bring me up to date with the situation. I’m not sure about—’ Sister gasped and clutched at her side suddenly. ‘Oh – I must sit down for a moment …’

‘What’s wrong, Sister? Are you in pain?’ Angela asked, immediately concerned by the sight of the older woman’s pale face and obvious distress. ‘What can I do for you? Please let me help you …’

‘I’ll be all right in a moment. Please do not fuss,’ Sister said through gritted teeth, gesturing for Angela to sit back down. ‘It comes and goes – ahhh …’ she went quiet and sank into a chair, clearly shaken by the ferocity of the pain. ‘I’ve never known it to be this bad …’ she gasped and clutched at herself again.

For a moment Angela was so shocked that she couldn’t think. Sister Beatrice wasn’t the sort to get ill; she was strong and stubborn and never allowed a child to bother her, but perhaps the strain of all that trouble with Terry had pulled her down … yet that was months ago and this was more than strain. She could see by the colour of Sister’s face and the way she was holding her breath that the pain was bad.

‘I’m going to call the doctor,’ Angela said, reaching for her telephone.

‘You’re over-reacting,’ Sister Beatrice’s tone was angry. ‘I’ll be all right soon I tell you.’ She stood up and took two steps forward, then tottered and fell to the ground, where she lay writhing and moaning in agony.

Angela knew it must be something serious to make Sister collapse in this way. The onset of pain had seemed sudden and unexpected, but then she remembered the Warden’s irritability of late and her habit of hiding her emotions and anything else she considered signs of weakness. It was quite possible that she had been suffering for weeks without telling anyone.

Angela rang immediately for Dr Kent and told him what had happened. ‘I’ll be there as soon as I can,’ he said. ‘In the meantime call one of the nurses to look at her – but don’t try to move her on your own unless she is able to get up herself.’

‘I’m going to get a nurse,’ Angela said, bending over Sister Beatrice briefly. ‘Please don’t try to do anything. We’ll help you to get up when I come back.’

Running swiftly down the hall to the sick room, she discovered that both Wendy and Michelle were there, discussing the patients’ notes. Michelle came towards her instantly, alerted by Angela’s urgent manner.

‘It’s Sister; she’s ill,’ Angela said. ‘I’ve rung for the doctor but it’s going to take him a while to get here.’

‘I’ll come,’ Michelle said. ‘I’ve been worried about her for a while. I thought she might simply be tired but, knowing Sister, she’s probably been hiding something.’

‘Yes; she would think it weak to give in,’ Angela agreed.

Michelle rushed on ahead of her. As Angela entered her office she discovered that Sister had managed to get to her feet in her absence and Michelle was helping her into the armchair provided for visitors. Sister’s face was grey and she looked very ill. She had her eyes closed and was holding her side, obviously in agony.

‘What’s wrong with her?’ Angela hovered as Michelle took Sister’s pulse and touched her forehead, which was sticky with sweat.

‘I’m not sure, but I think from the position of the pain it may be appendicitis,’ she said, looking anxiously at Sister. ‘How long have you been having these pains, Sister?’

‘A few weeks,’ Sister said weakly. ‘It wasn’t so bad at first and it always went after a while but now … it’s getting much worse.’

‘We’ve sent for the doctor,’ Michelle said, ‘but if it is acute appendicitis you will need an operation.’

‘I shall be all right, I tell you. All this fuss …’ Sister gasped and could not continue for a moment. ‘I can’t leave St Saviour’s. Who will look after things here?’

‘Angela and the nurses and the carers,’ Michelle answered before Angela could speak. ‘We shall take care of things while you’re away, Sister – but you have no choice. If I’m right and it bursts – you could die.’

Sister Beatrice looked at her. The truth was in her eyes, for she knew it as well as her staff nurse. If the inflamed appendix ruptured she could be in very serious trouble. She turned her head suddenly to be violently sick on the floor. Angela rushed to give her a handkerchief and offered a glass of water, which she accepted, looking sheepish.

‘I’m so sorry.’

‘Please don’t worry. I will soon clear it up. Michelle, do you think she would be more comfortable in the sick bay?’

‘No, I don’t want anyone else to see me this way – the children mustn’t be upset,’ Sister said, a note of authority in her voice. ‘I must get home and rest. I shall be all right in a while …’ Yet even as she spoke, she clutched at her right side again.

‘The doctor will be here shortly and you’re not going anywhere but hospital,’ Michelle insisted. ‘Angela, could you go down and ask one of the girls to come up and clear this up? I should like a couple of minutes alone with Sister.’

‘Very well; I’ll get a cloth and bucket. No need to let anyone else know about this,’ Angela said and went out.

She had reached the bottom of the stairs when Dr Kent rushed in, looking anxious. Stopping to explain what had happened, Angela directed him back to her office and then went off again in search of warm water and a mop. By the time she returned to her office, Dr Kent was very much in charge of the situation. He had opened his bag and was giving Sister an injection.

‘This is a mild sedative to ease the pain,’ he told her. ‘I’ve rung for an ambulance and it will be here shortly. I shall telephone the hospital and let them know to prepare for an emergency operation. Acute appendicitis is very serious, Sister. You must know what could happen if there should be a rupture – I’m surprised you didn’t seek medical advice before this.’

‘I could not neglect my duty. Besides, it suddenly became much worse.’

‘Yes, that is what happens if you neglect the warnings. It can come on very suddenly in its severest form.’

‘You must see I cannot desert the children …’

‘Nonsense! No one is irreplaceable,’ he said firmly and Angela saw Sister’s face twist as if he had added fuel to the flames. ‘Your staff will manage perfectly well until you can take up your place here again – something you won’t do if you’re dead. No more arguments. I believe we may be in time to prevent the worst happening, thanks to the prompt actions of your assistant.’

Sister nodded but didn’t answer. She was looking at Angela, an unspoken appeal in her eyes.

‘We shall manage until you return,’ Angela promised. ‘I will visit as soon as you’re well enough – and you can give me your instructions then.’

They both knew she did not need Sister’s instructions, but it was all she could think of to comfort her. Although they did not always see eye to eye where the running of the home was concerned, Angela respected Sister Beatrice’s devotion to the children.

‘The children will be all right,’ Michelle said as she helped Dr Kent assist Sister to her feet. ‘We’ll take you down in the lift and they won’t see you – and the ambulance will be here soon.’

‘Yes …’ Sister had ceased to resist. She was clearly close to collapse and went with them, but at the door, she paused and looked back. ‘The twins – take the greatest care of them, Angela. I’m not sure about this aunt of theirs and someone told me—’ she broke off with another gasp of pain, unable to finish what she’d been about to say.

‘Yes, Sister Beatrice. I’ll take care of them,’ Angela promised. ‘Please, don’t worry. We’ll do our best for all the children while you’re away. You must rest and get better soon and come back to us.’

Sister Beatrice was led away and after Angela had cleaned up the vomit from the floor, she headed to the kitchen knowing that she needed to let everyone know what had happened.

‘Was that an ambulance I heard outside?’ Muriel asked anxiously when she took the bucket back to the scullery area. ‘Who’s ill?’

‘I’m afraid it’s Sister Beatrice,’ Angela told her, and saw the shock in her face. She turned pale and sat down, staring as if she’d seen a ghost. ‘I know I can trust you to keep this to yourself, Muriel. The doctor thinks she has acute appendicitis and will need an emergency operation.’

‘God have mercy! My niece’s youngest daughter had that – it burst and she died. They couldn’t do nothin’ for her – pray God, Sister don’t go the same. Whatever shall we do without her?’

‘We shall have to manage as best we can until she comes back,’ Angela said calmly. ‘We have good nurses in Michelle and Wendy, and Paula too. I’m sure we shall manage.’

‘But Sister is always here,’ Muriel said. ‘We all turn to her when we need her. Does Nan know? She’ll be dreadfully upset. She’s very fond of Sister – as am I.’

‘Yes, I’m sure everyone is,’ Angela said. ‘But if we all continue to do our jobs as normal we shall manage. Hopefully it won’t be for too long.’ Angela believed this, though she knew there would be no time for any extras, like the party to celebrate the opening of the new wing; that would have to be cancelled now.

‘It might be for the best,’ Cook said dolefully, dabbing at her eyes with her white apron that was smeared with some kind of sauce. ‘I don’t like the sound of it, though – emergency operation isn’t good, Angela. It isn’t good at all …’

‘No, it’s very upsetting,’ Angela said. ‘But I assure you, I can manage the office work as usual and the nurses will all do their duty.’

‘But Sister tells me what to cook for the children – some of them have special diets and she’s always the one that works out what’s right for them. I’ll do my best, but I’m not sure I can manage without her guidance …’

‘I will consult with Michelle or Wendy and tell you what’s needed.’ Angela sighed inwardly. Sister Beatrice had no doubt been a tower of strength, but there was no reason things should collapse because she’d been taken ill. ‘I dare say Sister has a record of things like that in her office.’

‘Yes, perhaps,’ Cook said. ‘But it won’t be the same. We discuss all the menus over a cup of tea and a slice of my best fatless sponge and … oh well, I suppose we’ll manage somehow.’ She sighed heavily. ‘But if anything should happen …’

Angela suppressed a feeling of irritation. She’d thought Muriel was her friend, but it seemed that old loyalties were the strongest. She would simply have to show them all that she was perfectly capable of managing at St Saviour’s without Sister’s help.

‘We must pray Sister returns to us soon,’ she said. ‘I’d better go and find Nan – she’ll be terribly upset if she learns of Sister’s illness from somewhere else …’

‘I knew something was wrong with her,’ Nan said after Angela had persuaded her to sit down and have a cup of tea with her in the staff room. ‘I sensed it and she looked so tired – but I thought that she might not have been sleeping because of what happened with Terry. She still blames herself, even now …’

‘Sister has been tired and anxious of late,’ agreed Angela. ‘I suspect she’s been suffering nagging pains for a while but carried on working regardless when she ought to have gone to the doctor.’

‘Beatrice is like that,’ Nan said. ‘She holds things inside, won’t give in to whatever is upsetting her. She went through a terrible time as a young woman, before she joined the nuns, and I imagine she got used to hiding pain. I didn’t know her back then, but she’s told me a few things over the years … I do know she was married for a time, and I believe there was a child, but I can’t say more than that.’

Angela didn’t press her for details, even though the news that Sister had been married came as a considerable surprise. Occasionally she had wondered what Sister’s life had been like before she became a nun, but it had never occurred to her that Beatrice might have been married. Though she told herself it was none of her business what terrible sorrow had driven Beatrice to give up all worldly things and enter a convent, she couldn’t help wishing she knew more – perhaps if she understood more of why Sister was so passionate about her work at St Saviour’s and why she felt that Angela was trying to undermine her role when all she wanted was to help, then she would know how to reassure her that was not the case.

‘Let’s hope that holding back won’t have cost her her life,’ Angela said.

‘I don’t know what we would do without her,’ Nan said in a mournful tone. ‘I know you do a lot of the office work now, Angela, but … everyone respects Sister Beatrice: the nurses and carers, children – and the locals too. So many people stop her when she goes out, asking for her help. And every month she goes into the slums to visit families and check their health and give advice, making sure mothers know how to sterilise the babies’ bottles – lots of small but significant things like that.’