An Orphan’s Sorrow

‘I ain’t no coward,’ Jamie said, which was true enough. His mother and brother had warned him about getting into trouble with the law but his father had sneered at them. He was a thief and a murderer and Jamie didn’t want to be like him, but he had to live in these streets for now and the best way was to go along with the bullies but try not to do anything his ma wouldn’t have liked. ‘I don’t care what I do,’ he lied – a lie he knew even then that he would regret.

‘Yer livin’ wiv yer neighbour now yer pa’s done fer the old woman?’ Leo asked and Jamie nodded. He hated that Leo had called his mother that, but what could he do?

‘Yeah, until Arch comes back.’

‘Yer brother’s gorn,’ Leo sneered. ‘He won’t come back fer yer – and that old bugger Marth won’t want yer long. Yer better orf wiv us – reckon we’re yer brothers. We’re all brothers, see. Ain’t got no one wot cares, just like yer – and so we look after ourselves.’ He grinned at the other Red Brother. Jamie couldn’t recall hearing his name and didn’t think he’d ever seen him at school.

‘What do I call yer?’ he asked.

The boy looked at Leo, who nodded and then said, ‘I’m Mick Rimmer but yer call me Brother. We don’t use names … ain’t that right, Brother?’ His eyes were on Leo as usual, waiting for approval.

‘Yeah.’ Leo’s eyes glittered in the light of streetlamps. He stopped and pointed across the street at the little corner shop there. ‘That’s where we’re goin’ – we fancy some sweets, cakes and fags, don’t we, Brother?’ He looked at Rimmer and winked.

‘But they’re closed …’ Jamie began but the words stuck in his throat, because he knew just what they were planning. ‘How are you goin’ ter get in?’

‘Through a window at the back,’ Leo replied. ‘Guy who owns it lives over the top but the silly old fool is nearly deaf and he won’t hear if we’re careful. By the time he gets down to the shop, we’ll have grabbed what we want and scarpered.’ His eyes narrowed and Jamie could see him fingering the knife in his pocket. ‘Are yer in?’

Jamie took a deep breath. He knew Mr Forrest at the corner shop well and liked him. He hated the idea of stealing from the old man, but he had no choice.

‘Yeah,’ he said in a voice as strong as he could make it. ‘I’m in.’

‘Good, because yer goin’ in after the stuff,’ Leo told him with an evil grin. ‘The window ain’t big enough fer either of us and all the others ’ave iron bars over ’em.’

Now Jamie understood why he’d been given a chance. If he hadn’t been the right size to get through the window, they would just have beaten him. He half wished he’d let them get on with it, but it would make them really angry if he said no now and that knife in Leo’s pocket could kill.

‘All right,’ he agreed hiding his reluctance beneath a show of bravado. ‘Tell me what yer want and I’ll bring it.’

‘Yer a right un’.’ Leo grinned again, a proper one this time. ‘I thought yer would be like yer bloody brother, but yer all right. Now listen, I’ve got a little torch so yer can see what we want and everything is in the storeroom. Yer don’t need to go through the front. Just grab as much as yer can and pass it out ter us and then get out as quick as yer can.’

Jamie’s heart was racing as they led him round to the back of Mr Forrest’s corner shop and pointed out the tiny window. It was just big enough for a boy of his size to squeeze. He felt his legs shaking and his mouth felt dry as he watched Leo prise the catch open. It was surprising how easy it was for the experienced thief to open what looked like a locked window. Jamie wondered if they’d somehow managed to fix it from inside earlier, perhaps distracting the shopkeeper while one of them slipped into his store room and moved the catch.

There was even an empty wooden crate left nearby for him to stand on, raising him up enough to wriggle through the narrow bit head-first. He slithered down to the floor, landing with a little thump. His nerves jangling, Jamie listened for sounds from upstairs but there was none. He switched on the torch and started to explore the shelves, quickly discovering boxes of chocolate bars, full sweet jars and several stacks of cigarettes, both Players and Woodbines. Knowing the Players were expensive, Jamie ignored them and swept up the Woodbines. He bundled them through the window and rushed back for the chocolate, grabbing handfuls out of the boxes and returning to throw them out to the others. He passed two big jars of sweets out and some packets of biscuits, but as he went back for more, he knocked a box off the shelf and the noise frightened him. He rushed back to the window because he thought he heard a sound from above.

‘He’s heard us!’ Jamie said and moved a chair so that he could scramble up on it and dive head-first through the window. He’d expected Leo to catch him before he hit the ground, but the Red Brothers had scarpered and Jamie landed in a heap on the gravel outside, scraping his knees and cheek. A light had come on upstairs and, as Jamie got to his feet and ran, someone looked out of the window and yelled.

‘Come back ’ere you dirty little thief! I’ll teach you to rob my granda!’ A boot followed the yell but Jamie was already swallowed up by the darkness of the street.

He ran and ran through the streets he knew so well, wondering if the Red Brothers would come after him, but he heard and saw nothing. At the first hint of danger they’d cut and run, leaving him to sink or swim alone. He knew then that he wasn’t one of them, even though he’d done what they wanted and got nothing out of it himself, not even one chocolate bar. He’d just given it all to Leo and he’d been left in the lurch.

For a moment Jamie had the strangest feeling that he was being watched. He glanced over his shoulder but couldn’t see anyone. If those bullies came after him again, he would fight, even if they thrashed him. They were rotten cowards and he hated them now for what they’d made him do.

Jamie’s mouth set in a grim line. He felt sick at what he’d done and he was glad that Mr Forrest’s grandson had been home from the army and heard him. He wished he hadn’t given those pigs as much as he had. It was the last time they would make him do a robbery for them! Jamie would take a beating, but he wouldn’t go out unprepared in future. He would fetch one of Ma’s sharp knives from her kitchen drawer and give those bullies as good as he got. Jamie remembered how quickly they’d given in when challenged and he thought that, like most bullies, they were cowards at heart, just the way Arch always said they were. If his brother had still been here, they would never have dared threaten him.

His mind made up, Jamie went home to Marth’s warm kitchen. He wished he’d been braver for the start and felt sorry for Mr Forrest, who didn’t deserve to be robbed. Ma would be ashamed of him and Arch would give him a hiding for it. Tears stung his eyes but he brushed them away angrily. It was no good wishing that Arch was here to help him fight the Red Brothers. He was on his own and the only one he could rely on was himself.

Watching from the shadows, the little girl shivered, pulling the warm shawl about her shoulders. She’d found it at the place she was now calling her house and loved the feel of its softness about her neck and face. She’d wandered a long way today, searching for something, though she wasn’t sure what she was looking for. The mists in her head were thicker some days and she couldn’t remember anything, not even her name.

Those horrible boys were bullies. The smaller boy should have run away from them but they’d frightened him, as they frightened her – except that she could run fast and they never caught her, even though they’d tried to hurt her once. She’d scratched one of the boys on the face then and kicked his shins, and when he yelled and let go, she’d run off as fast as she could and hidden. She was good at hiding.

It was a pity the small boy hadn’t seen her when she’d tried to call him from her hiding place, but he’d been too frightened to see anything except the bullies who were threatening him. She thought it was a shame, because she might have taken him to her house so that they could play. Jamie looked lost and lonely, just like her. A little smile lit her thin, dirty face as she remembered the name the bullies had called him and then, just for a minute, she remembered her own name.

She was Cassie and – and her mother had wanted to drown her in the river. For a moment she recalled the desperate struggle on the stairs and then her mother’s scream as she tumbled backwards down them, dragging Cassie with her. Just for one blinding second it was all so clear to her – and then the voices saying she was evil and would be locked away in an institution.

Cassie felt the sting of urine on her legs as she wet herself. Tears rushed to her eyes and she started to run. She had to get back to her house, because only there could she be safe from the people who wanted to lock her up. As she ran, panting in terror, the past became muddled again and she remembered a woman sitting by the firelight singing a song she’d loved and a man who smelled of tobacco and some sort of drink on his breath – but, in another instant, it was lost and all she could think of was the need to return to her house, the beautiful house that someone had so clearly left for her to find safety in …

CHAPTER 6

Steve was waiting for Sarah when she got off her bus as usual the next morning; she didn’t always bother with the bus but it was drizzling with rain and she’d decided not to walk. She went to greet Steve with a smile but saw that he was looking stern and didn’t smile as easily as he normally did when they met. Touching his hand, she looked up at him, searching for clues. Had she done something to upset him?

‘What’s wrong, Steve? Are you upset about something?’

‘Well, yes, I am as a matter of fact,’ he said. ‘It was a robbery last night at the corner of Bull Street, the little grocer’s there.’

‘I know that shop well,’ Sarah said. ‘Sister Norton lives not far away – and Mum has a friend who does a lot of her shopping there because she says old Mr Forrest is so lovely to her …’ She saw the grim look in his eyes and hers widened. ‘What happened?’

‘Forrest’s grandson was there and heard them, fortunately. He scared them off before they could take more than some sweets and a few packets of Woodbines, but Mr Forrest was upset and then taken ill in the night, and they’ve rushed him to hospital. They say it is his heart and it’s touch and go whether he survives.’

‘Oh no! I bought Mum some chocolate there last year for Mothering Sunday and he was really friendly.’ Sarah understood why Steve was so upset. He must have been called to the shop in the early hours.

‘I know him well,’ Steve told her grimly. ‘I like him, Sarah – a lot. He’s the sort you’d want as a grandfather. Often gives the kids an extra sweet but nothing untoward about him. He’s not a groper, just loves kids. If I catch the little buggers who did it, I’ll give them the fright of their lives!’

‘You must be angry but you can only arrest them.’ She looked at Steve uncertainly, because she’d never seen him this angry before.

‘I know, but I can threaten them with hanging if the old man dies!’ he said and she knew it was anger talking. Steve was upset because he’d known the victim of what was really a petty crime. ‘His grandson was in tears, Sarah. We were at school together. He’s a grown man, in the army and home on leave, and yet he was crying. He saw the lad scarper – just one and not very big – but he’d have to be small to get in the window. They’ve got bars over all the others. However, I looked around outside and I’m sure there was more than one lad. It looks as if they put the little one through the window and then ran and left him to get out as best he could. He probably cut himself on the gravel when he landed …’

‘Have you any idea who did it?’

‘I’ve got an idea.’ Steve frowned. ‘They call themselves The Brothers of the Red or some such fanciful thing and it’s not a big gang. We think about four or five altogether, but we know they’re active in the area. Most of them are thirteen or fourteen and they play truant from school all the time. We send school officers round to their homes but the officers tell us they’re afraid to go near some of the houses unless we go with them – the fathers are all known criminals, the mothers often drunk or on the game. The leader of the gang lives with his grandmother, because his parents are dead, and I doubt she can do anything with him.’ He shook his head. ‘It isn’t surprising they grow up the way they do, but we have to prove they’re guilty and so far, they’ve not left any clues – however, this time they made a mistake. There are fingerprints all over, a child’s prints, so we know it must be the young devil who got in that window – the trouble is, he was probably a first timer and it might be hard to find him.’

‘I’m sorry your friend’s grandfather was hurt,’ Sarah said as she heard the clock strike. ‘Oh, I have to go or I’ll be late. Shall I see you this evening? Mum thought you might like to talk to Charlie?’

‘Yes, I should,’ Steve agreed and smiled. ‘Now there’s a young lad I like. He could have turned bad but he didn’t – and I respect him for his choice to make something of his life.’

‘You can tell me about it tonight,’ Sarah said and kissed his cheek. She turned and ran into the infirmary. Sister Norton was going to be angry because it was already two minutes past the hour.

However, when she arrived on the ward, slightly breathless, Sister Norton wasn’t in; Sister Rose Harwell was there instead. She smiled as Sarah came up to her and nodded.

‘I’m glad to see you nicely on time,’ she said. ‘We’ve got a busy morning ahead. I’m afraid we’ve had two new patients come in overnight – but one has gone into the chronically sick ward. Dr Mitchell came in early this morning and had Ned transferred. He wants us to give the child more time and he knows we can’t keep a watch over certain patients the way they do in the critical ward.’

The chronically sick ward was small and housed only a few patients at a time, allowing the nurses to sit with their patients for hours if need be.

‘Sister Norton and I were keeping a strict eye on him,’ Sarah said feeling a bit distressed that their patient had been moved.

‘Yes, but it seems that he was in terrible pain last night and the night nurse had to summon Sister Linton because she couldn’t cope.’

‘I see.’ Sarah nodded, understanding now. It was the first bout of violent pain Ned had endured since entering the infirmary and the doctors were clearly concerned if they’d moved him to a ward reserved for patients who might not recover. ‘I shall visit him in my break, Sister – if that is permitted?’

‘Of course, it is, nurse,’ Sister Rose said. She looked at Sarah gravely but with kindness. ‘But you really can’t allow yourself to get fond of patients, Sarah. We none of us can. Either they get better and go home – often to families who don’t look after them – or sometimes they die. It can hurt either way.’

‘I know,’ Sarah took the mild rebuke as it was meant, to help rather than scold. ‘But I was just getting to know him, gain his confidence.’

‘Yes, I know. Dr Mitchell wants to speak to you later. He says that Sister Norton alerted him to Ned’s condition, because of you. He probably wants to say well done.’

Sarah smiled and thanked her and they got on with the work of the day. She didn’t ask why Sister Norton wasn’t in and it wasn’t until they had a tea break later that Kathy told her what she’d heard.

‘Sister Norton was up all night. She was called out to an elderly man who was having a heart attack after his shop was robbed and went with him to the London. She waited until she was told he was stabilised for the moment and then went home. She rang Matron this morning and told her she wouldn’t be in today.’

‘Yes, I heard that Mr Forrest at the corner shop had had a heart attack,’ Sarah said. ‘I suppose they knew Jean lived nearby and asked her to come, rather than the doctor.’ It wasn’t uncommon in the lanes and narrow, dirty streets of the East End, for nurses who lived near to be called out rather than the doctor. Doctors charged more to visit and many people just couldn’t afford it while others didn’t see why they should pay them when the nurse would tell you just as much for free. Sister Norton would have gone immediately, without a thought, and wouldn’t have asked for a penny.

Kathy had come up with the meal trolley that morning and had obviously overheard part of their conversation. She brought it up when Sarah went to fetch breakfast for one of the children, asking for more information.

‘I wouldn’t have thought she would bother to sit there all night for him,’ Kathy said looking surprised when Sarah told her why Sister Norton wasn’t at work. ‘She always seems so stern.’

‘Yes, but perhaps she isn’t always like that?’ Sarah suggested and smiled at her, deciding to change the subject. ‘How are you, Kathy?’

‘Good!’ Kathy blushed and looked uncertain. ‘You’ll never guess – Bert asked me to marry him.’

‘And what did you say?’

‘Well, I’ll have to ask my mother,’ Kathy said and laughed. ‘But I told him I would, if she says it’s all right.’

‘You’re very young to marry – only seventeen,’ Sarah said gently.

‘But I’ll be eighteen this year. Besides, I like Bert. He makes me laugh and he keeps me safe – that’s what Mum says you need in a husband.’

Sarah nodded but made no further comment. It seemed that Kathy’s mother, having made up her mind she liked Bert, had decided to push the girl into a safe marriage. That might not be a bad thing, but Kathy might wake up one day in the future and decide that she wanted to see a bit more life than her much older husband was up for … Still, that was not Sarah’s business, it was Kathy’s; and only she knew whether it was what she truly wanted of life.

When Sarah returned to the ward after popping in to see Ned, who was under sedation and didn’t know she was there, she discovered Dr Mitchell talking to Sister Rose. He turned, looked at her and smiled in welcome.

‘Good morning, Nurse Sarah,’ he said. ‘I wanted to have a word with you about my patient. Tell me, what was it that led you to tell Sister Norton that you were certain Ned’s problem was not an infection?’

‘I just sensed it was more,’ she said. ‘I know the signs of infection were there and we all thought it must be a nasty tummy upset when he first came in – but I talked to him and it seems he gets days of violent pain followed by days when he feels nothing, but this constant diarrhoea is causing trouble with his mother.’

‘Ah yes, she wouldn’t understand that her son has a condition that will, unfortunately, affect him for most of his life. It has a name, Crohn’s disease, but few doctors know of it and even fewer can diagnose it.’

‘What exactly is it?’ Sarah asked.

‘If we knew for sure, perhaps we could find a cure …’ He sighed, his brow creasing. ‘It is probably a bit of twisted gut or something of the kind, but, whatever, it causes inflammation and therefore pain. There are various symptoms: fever, pain, and the diarrhoea, of course. What little we know is that a liquid or soft diet is best for sufferers, though some do not respond – and if it comes to the worst we might have to operate and take out the inflamed section.’

‘Wouldn’t that be dangerous?’ Sarah felt sharp concern for the young boy who had never known a loving home.

‘Yes, it could be. We’re not really sure yet, because the condition has only been identified in the last few years and not enough is known yet, but if we do nothing and the diet does not work, he could die.’

Sarah felt tears prick her eyes but blinked them away. She was a nurse. She was a professional. She could not allow herself to be emotional over a patient.

‘You do well to care, because he has no one else,’ Dr Mitchell said, seeing what she tried to hide. ‘I visited his mother this morning. Apparently, Sister Norton had been there first and was given a flea in her ear. I was almost thrown out and threatened with a carving knife! She told me she didn’t care what we did to “The little brat” – her own words – but she didn’t want him back soiling his bed every night.’

‘How disgusting she must be!’ Sarah cried forgetting her position in her anger.

‘She most certainly is.’ Dr Mitchell grinned broadly. ‘I got out of there pretty quickly, let me tell you – and I’ll be talking to people I know. Ned will not go back to that hellhole. Once he can leave us, he will go to an orphanage or an adoption centre.’

‘Or a foster home?’ Sarah said and blushed as he looked at her intently. ‘My mother would take him in for a while, I know she would.’

‘That I can’t promise,’ he said. ‘Once I report the case it will be out of my hands – but in the meantime, I should like you to spend as much time with him as you can spare, nurse. He seems to have taken to you.’

‘And then?’

‘And then we’ll see what Matron and Lady Rosalie say,’ he suggested and winked at her as he turned to leave the ward. Sarah smiled. Dr Mitchell wasn’t like most of the others, who looked down on the nurses like gods from afar. She liked him – and if she and Ned got on as well as they always had, she thought Dr Mitchell and Lady Rosalie might just see the wisdom in letting her take the child home with her, at least for a while – and now she’d best return to the ward before Matron had her guts for garters!

Jean had been very distressed to be called out the previous evening to Mr Forrest. He was such a gentle, kindly man and she often shopped with him. She could buy things more cheaply on the market sometimes, but his stock was always fresh and reliable and it was a pleasure to stop and talk to him. He allowed his customers to taste tiny slivers of whatever cheese or ham he currently had for sale and his time was yours for as long as you wished. She’d arranged for him to be taken into hospital and gone with him herself, because his grandson was busy with the police. The constable who’d turned up after a frantic phone call had been Constable Steve Jones and Jean knew he was courting Nurse Sarah Cartwright. He had a nice manner with him and she’d liked the way he’d calmed Phil Forrest down – the army sergeant had been incandescent with fury, and in clear distress over his grandfather but together they’d sorted it out and she’d been glad to help.

Sitting at the hospital waiting for news she could take back to his grandson, Jean hadn’t been aware of tiredness. She was used to night duty and it wasn’t as if she was on her feet. One of the young nurses had brought her a cup of tea and then a doctor had come to tell her that Mr Forrest was settled for the night and over the worst.

The doctor spoke confidently. ‘He should make a full recovery, providing he doesn’t have another attack immediately. You know yourself, Sister Norton, we can never be certain these things are over for at least a couple of days. If he had another attack as severe as the last it would probably kill him, but we shall keep him here and watch over him and I have every hope he will come through.’

‘He is in the best place,’ Jean said. ‘Do you think his attack was caused by the break-in – or is it likely that it could have happened anytime?’

‘We shall do further investigation while he is here,’ the doctor said, ‘but at his age he may well have had symptoms he’s not bothered to report to his doctor.’

Jean had left the hospital then and taken a taxi home. She’d made tea and toast for herself, feeling tired all of a sudden and deciding she would go to bed as soon as she’d rung the infirmary and let them know she wouldn’t be in that day. She could have gone in a bit later, but she would probably be tired and a tired nurse was not an efficient nurse. Far better someone else should take her place for a day.

Sister Ruth Linton had been very understanding. Her superior, Matron might not be best pleased at having to rearrange her staff but would do it.

Jean had taken another cup of tea to bed and slept until after two o’clock, when she got up and bathed and dressed in a skirt and jumper, deciding to walk round to Forrest’s corner shop and see if Sergeant Forrest had any further news of his grandfather’s condition. She thought the shop might be closed but it was open as usual and the tall, rugged young man stood behind the counter. He smiled at her as she went in.