The Boy with the Latch Key

When she’d taken the first lowly position in the Children’s Department, Ruby had had to struggle for recognition and the chance to realise her ambition. It was only when she’d helped Ruth Sampson out with a difficult case on a couple of occasions that she’d started to move up. It was important to Ruby that her superior should appreciate her; she wasn’t sure, but she had the feeling that Ruth didn’t like men any more than she did – it was why she’d never married and dedicated herself to her job. What Ruby didn’t know for sure was whether she felt more than liking for her.

It was something she had to keep hidden, this passion for another woman. Sex and love between two women wasn’t seen as correct, either politically or lawfully, and although the voices raised against the old-fashioned laws were growing in number, at this time it didn’t look as if things would ever change. Ruby saw that as unfair and discrimination against someone like her; she couldn’t help it if she wanted to love a woman and not a man. The very thought of a man touching her made her shudder – so why shouldn’t she find happiness with someone of her own persuasion? Yet she knew she had to be careful. If she offended Ruth, she would be out of the Department and looking for another job – and she might find herself in worse trouble …

Ruby’s job paid quite well. She had her own tiny flat, just a bedroom, tiny bathroom, kitchen and that was it; there was no space for anything much but it was hers, her sanctuary. Her bed folded away during the day and she had a battered old sofa she sat on; a single wardrobe, a chest of drawers, a chair and a table that let down and could be stood against the wall at night. It was all she needed. She’d got where she was by working hard and keeping her emotions tightly under control.

She was in charge of this side of St Saviour’s, but her bit wasn’t called that now. It was a centre for girls on probation, girls who could end up in an institution that had bars on the windows and cells rather than dormitories if they didn’t behave. Ruby had twenty girls in her care at the Halfpenny Probationary Centre, and two assistant female workers under her supervision as well as a male orderly; his strength was needed occasionally if one of the worst offenders became violent. One girl had been strange whenever there was a full moon and they’d had to restrain her a few times, but she’d now been removed to a secure unit. There wasn’t a sick ward here, and in the case of illness Ruby called in the doctor or asked one of the nurses from next door to pop in, but if the girls were ill they went to hospital. She wasn’t a nurse and wouldn’t allow herself to be drawn into caring for her girls in that way; they were here because they needed to be disciplined and she was here to see they behaved. Ruby wasn’t soft, she’d been trained in a hard school, and she was up to the tricks of the girls who landed themselves in her charge.

At twenty-seven she’d finally got the kind of job she’d been after for years and she was proud of herself. She wrote regular reports on the behaviour of the girls in her charge and she prided herself that she’d had nothing significant to report for months. Ruby had made certain that her girls knew they must live by her rules; she considered herself as being fair but strict and she’d told them that if they made trouble or ran away the next step was a remand home and then prison. So far not one girl had run away, and that was more than they could say next door. Ruby happened to know that one of the boys they’d sent to Halfpenny House had absconded recently. She’d heard that they’d had trouble keeping staff there and that some of the kids were rebellious. Of course the boy who’d run off wasn’t an offender and at fourteen he was probably old enough to find himself a job, but that old trout next door shouldn’t be too proud to take some advice when it was given in good faith …

An altercation outside her door interrupted her thoughts and then a girl burst in, shouting at the top of her voice, followed by one of the carers. Ruby dismissed the carer with a wave of her hand and looked at the girl. She was Betty Goodge and she was wearing lipstick again, something expressly forbidden.

‘Be quiet, Betty,’ Ruby said sternly. ‘Why are you wearing lipstick? You are far too young, even if we allowed it – and you know the rules. Even the older girls are not permitted any make-up during their stay here.’

‘Rotten ole rules,’ Betty sneered at her. ‘I didn’t ask to come ’ere – what do I care what yer say?’

‘Would you prefer to be sent to the remand home?’ Ruby asked sternly. ‘This is your last chance, Betty. If I have any further nonsense from you, you will be sent somewhere you will learn discipline.’

‘See if I care …’ Betty stuck her tongue out at her. ‘Rotten ole cow!’

Ruby went round the desk and slapped her across the face just once. ‘You will care if I send you away. What I just did is nothing. You’ll be restrained and drugged if you’re violent and kept in a padded cell …’

Betty stared, shocked into listening. ‘Sorry,’ she mumbled, eyes filling with tears. ‘Didn’t mean it …’

‘You have one last chance,’ Ruby repeated and held out her hand. ‘Give me the lipstick and don’t let me see you wearing it again …’

Betty handed it over reluctantly but raised her head in defiance. She held her tongue, still stunned by the slap and the threat of what would happen to her in a remand home, but Ruby guessed it wouldn’t last long. Because she knew what the girl had been through at home, she would give her one last chance, but she didn’t regret the slap. Betty had to learn discipline and if she didn’t she would deserve all she got …

‘How are the Miller children settling in?’ Beatrice asked Wendy when she saw her later that afternoon. ‘Do you think they’re ready to be moved on yet?’

‘In my opinion no,’ Wendy said, looking thoughtful. ‘Archie is set on visiting his mother at the police station and wants to prove her innocence. I don’t think he has much chance of doing either, even if Mrs Miller is innocent – but I believe he would resent being sent away or being separated from his sister. She is a little truculent at times, but does what the carers ask her, so both Tilly and Kelly say …’

‘That is exactly my own opinion,’ Beatrice nodded her agreement. ‘I shall wait until we hear what happens to their mother. If she is sent to prison, of course, they must both be moved to Halfpenny House.’

‘Yes, I suppose so. It’s a pity we can’t just keep them here.’

‘We only have so much room. I spoke against handing over the new wing to the Children’s Department, but we had little choice in the matter. I’m afraid that in the case of a prison sentence for Mrs Miller I shall have no alternative but to send them on. However, I shall keep them together.’

‘Oh yes, they must stay together,’ Wendy agreed.

‘Well, that has settled my mind,’ Beatrice said. ‘You are off this evening I believe?’

‘Yes, I’m looking forward to it,’ Wendy said. ‘I’ve arranged to go to the pictures with Kelly. Her boyfriend is working and her father said she should have a night out for once, and as her sister is old enough to help about the house now she asked me if I wanted to see Annie Get Your Gun with her.’

‘Is that a new film?’

‘No, it came out in 1950 but somehow I never got to see it and neither did Kelly. It’s on again at the Odeon and we thought it would make a nice change; it’s a musical.’

‘Ah yes, you will enjoy that,’ Beatrice said. ‘How is young Dick this evening? He has as nasty a case of the measles as I’ve seen …’

‘He has been feeling very sorry for himself,’ Wendy smiled in sympathy, ‘but I’ve seen an improvement today, and fortunately we haven’t had any further cases pre-senting themselves.’

‘Good. Well I shan’t hinder you; I’m sure you have things to do …’

Beatrice smiled as she walked back to her office. Thank goodness she didn’t have to work with Ruby Saunders!

CHAPTER 5

‘Can I see my mother?’ Archie asked the following Saturday morning at the police station. ‘I’ve brought her some fudge. She likes fudge and I got it special for her.’

‘I’m sorry, lad,’ Sergeant Sallis said from behind the counter. ‘She was found guilty at her trial yesterday and she’s been moved to Holloway … they gave her an eighteen-month sentence …’

‘They can’t have …’ Archie was stunned. ‘She’s innocent. Why doesn’t anyone believe us? If she took that money where is it?’

‘She said she was innocent but the stolen cheques were found in her desk and a sheet of paper on which she’d been practising the manager’s signature – and there was ten pounds missing from the cash box too. Only she and Reg Prentice had the key … and he was the one that drew attention to the missing money.’

‘Then he took the money and he put those things in Mum’s desk, I know he did,’ Archie said belligerently. ‘It ain’t fair. Mum ain’t a thief …’

‘If it were up to me I’d give her the benefit of the doubt,’ Sergeant Sallis said. ‘I’m truly sorry, lad. I wish there was something I could do, but the evidence went against her. She got a light sentence because of her previously good record and with good behaviour she might be out in a year or less.’

Archie felt the rage building inside him, but he wasn’t going to rage at Sergeant Sallis. Twice, he’d let him see his mum for a few minutes, and he wasn’t supposed to do that, Archie knew.

‘How can I see her?’

‘I’m not sure they will let you visit at the prison,’ Sergeant Sallis said doubtfully. ‘You’re still a child in the eyes of the law – but I’ll find out for you, and if there’s a way I’ll get you a visiting order, and if not I’ll get you the proper address so you can write to her and send her a little parcel.’

Archie swallowed his anger and bewilderment and thanked him. He shoved his hands in his pockets as he walked away, shoulders hunched defensively. It was hell being a kid with no parents. If he’d been older he could’ve stood up to those people who’d labelled his mum a thief; she’d told Archie she was innocent and believed she’d been set up and she’d whispered a name. For some reason Reg Prentice had had it in for his mum, but she hadn’t told him why; instead she’d told him to keep it to himself and not make trouble.

‘If you go round there and accuse him it will only make them think you’re a troublemaker, Archie. You have to stay strong, look after June for me, and I’ll come back and find you when I can …’

Tears were burning the back of Archie’s throat. He wished there was something he could do to comfort his mother, picturing her sitting in a cell, either alone or with other women – women who were thieves and worse. How she would hate it! Sandra Miller had always done her best to keep her children honest, clean and decent, and she’d been that way herself. Archie didn’t believe for one moment that his mother had stolen those cheques or any money either. Someone had wanted to punish her and one day Archie was going to find out why and when he knew for certain … Reg Prentice had just better look out, that’s all.

For the moment he had to take care of his sister. Archie was well aware June had been in trouble at school. He’d taken her to task over it, telling her what a fool she was to let others provoke her. He knew she was getting a lot of bullying at school, other girls jeering at her because her mother was locked up for theft and calling her names. Archie had endured some of the jeering himself, but he’d ignored it, squaring up to one of the boys and asking him if he wanted to make something of it. Because Archie was older and stronger than his sister, he’d succeeded in quietening the bullies, but June was different. She didn’t like to be the object of scorn, and she was upset because their mother had gone away. Archie had tried to tell her it wasn’t Mum’s fault, but he didn’t know whether she believed him or not.

He kicked angrily at a discarded can, lingering at the edge of the market. He didn’t want to go back to his room at the orphanage; he hadn’t made many friends there and he missed the life he’d known before his mother was arrested.

‘Hey there, young ’un,’ a voice said and he saw Billy Baggins coming towards him. ‘Got nothing to do?’

‘I went to visit Mum,’ Archie said. ‘They’ve moved her to prison …’

‘I’m sorry about that,’ Billy said. ‘My brother is in prison, you know. I felt ashamed the first time, but he’s no good – it’s different for you. Sergeant Sallis told me he doesn’t think your mum got justice.’

‘She’s not a thief. I know she’s not …’ Archie shuffled his feet moodily. ‘I’m going to try and visit her in prison, but I might need an adult to go with me – if they’ll let me at all …’

‘I’ll go with you if they’ll give us a visiting order,’ Billy offered. ‘Just keep believin’ in her, mate. It doesn’t matter what the world says, as long as you know the truth …’

‘Thanks, Billy,’ Archie said. ‘I wish I could run as fast as you.’

‘I don’t run as much as I used to. I’m too busy working these days,’ Billy told him. ‘Look, do you want to earn a few bob?’

‘Yeah – what do I have to do?’

‘See that man at the fruit and veg stall?’ Archie nodded. ‘You tell him Billy Baggins sent you and he’ll give you a job trimming stuff and clearing up the rubbish. I used to work for him, but I’ve got other things to do these days. He’s a fair man is Ted Hastings; he’ll treat you right. I’ve got to go now. I’m takin’ a mate to help clear his house and move him into a new council place …’

Archie thanked him and watched as he strode off, looking for all the world as if he were king of all he surveyed. He thought he’d like to be like Billy one day, but he didn’t think he could win cups in running or football. He hesitated, and then approached the man on the stall Billy had pointed out. Archie hadn’t anything else to do with himself for a few hours, and a few extra shillings would come in useful if he did get to visit his mother …

It was the stuff of nightmares, but even in her worst dreams Sandra had never seen herself in prison; she wasn’t the sort who broke the law and one of the worst things of all was being labelled a thief in the eyes of the world, even though she knew she hadn’t touched that money. There was no doubt whatsoever in Sandra’s mind that Reg Prentice had set her up because she’d threatened to go to the boss with her complaints. How he must be laughing now and how she hated him for doing this to her; it was her anger against him and the others who had turned against her, people she’d thought her friends, that made it possible for her to bear the humiliation.

Sandra wasn’t sure which part of the nightmare had been the worst: her arrest and the look in the eyes of people who believed her guilty; the time she’d spent in the police cells, her trial or her arrival at the women’s prison. The sound of that metal door clanging shut behind her, the stench, and the knowledge that she was shut in this foul place for months on end would’ve broken her if she hadn’t been so angry. She’d always believed in British justice and until sentence was pronounced she’d believed she would be declared innocent and set free.

Sandra had still been in a state of shock when they took her down from the dock and put her in a van with other women – women who were hardened to crime and laughed, jeering at the guards and swearing in a way that made Sandra wince. She could hardly believe that it had really happened, and because of that she’d endured the strip search, the showers during which the women huddled together, watched over by a warden who looked as if she’d never smiled in her life. She’d seen her things taken away and put in a box for which she’d had to sign, and she’d been given a shapeless grey sack that, belted in the middle with a tie, might just look like a dress.

All of that was bearable because she was angry. It was only when they’d pushed her into a cell and locked the door on her that Sandra began to tremble and the useless anger became a nameless fear that made her want to scream and scream, shouting her innocence out loud, and yet she didn’t because some inner instinct told her that the only way to endure this was to keep her thoughts to herself – to live for the day when she was released. Shouting abuse as some of the others did wouldn’t help, nothing would alter what was happening to her and being abusive would only make things worse.

‘So what did you do then?’ the only other occupant of her cell asked. ‘I’m in ’ere fer sellin’ it on the streets – wot ’ave you done, ducks?’

Sandra had hardly noticed the woman, or girl as she now saw, because she couldn’t have been more than seventeen surely. She had bleached blonde hair, dark eyebrows and lashes and pale skin, which was blotched in a few places with red patches.

‘They say I stole money and cheques from work,’ Sandra said. ‘I was set up by a man who hates me because I told him to get lost.’

‘Yeah, I know that sort,’ the girl said and pulled a face. ‘It were one of them that got me started on the game. I ’ated him and got away from him when I found Dicky; he’s a pet and saw me right …’Ere, you ain’t got a fag, ’ave yer? I’m gaspin’ fer one and the buggers don’t give us enough ter last the week …’

‘I’m sorry, I don’t smoke …’

‘Don’t let the buggers know that,’ the girl said. ‘Or you won’t get yer ration. Fags are bloody gold dust in ’ere, love. If you don’t want ’em there’s plenty do, and you can trade ’em for privileges, see … There’s women in ’ere that can make yer life ’ell if they want, or if they take to yer, they can make it easier.’

Sandra nodded, warming to the girl despite her unkempt appearance. She probably looked much the same herself now, because she hadn’t been able to dry her hair properly after the shower, and she hadn’t brought anything in the way of cosmetics into the prison with her. Archie had brought her a comb and toothbrush to the police cells, but apart from those and a bar of prison-issue soap she had nothing of her own.

‘Is this your first time inside?’

‘Nah, third, but I’m only in fer six months this time – four if I keep me nose clean …’

‘I’m Sandra.’ She offered her hand and after a moment the girl took it and grinned. ‘I’m glad I’m sharing with you …’

‘Mo, they call me, but me name’s Maureen,’ the girl said and laughed. ‘Tell the truth, I don’t care what they call me. I do what I’m told and keep out of trouble. If I were you I’d do the same. It’s no use complaining, whether it’s the screws or the other lot. You just have to put up with it until they put you out of the front gate and tell you not to come back.’

‘I shan’t be back,’ Sandra said. She wanted to say that she would soon be released and that her friends would prove her innocence, but she didn’t know who her friends were any more or even if she had any …

‘I didn’t think to say last time so I thought I’d better come round and tell you,’ Sergeant Sallis said to Sister Beatrice later that day. ‘Archie Miller came to the station and asked to see his mother, brought her a bag of fudge – and I had to tell him that she’d been sent down for eighteen months. I’ve told him I’ll try to get a visiting order, but I doubt they will let him see her; he’ll have to be accompanied, even if they’ll allow it.’

‘That would be no problem, one of my carers could go,’ Beatrice said and frowned. ‘However, this means I shall have to move him and his sister to Halfpenny House, because I can’t keep them here for that length of time.’

‘Archie isn’t going to like that,’ Sergeant Sallis said. ‘I’d take the lad to visit myself and I’m prepared to vouch for him – but I can’t promise anything …’

‘Well, I’ll delay it for a week or two but if we get more children needing to be admitted, Archie will have to be moved, and his sister …’

‘Now that’s the other thing …’ Sergeant Sallis looked grave. ‘We’ve had a complaint about June Miller. Apparently, she and an older girl …’ he consulted his notebook, ‘Betty Goodge, currently residing next door, were seen stealing lipstick from Woolworth’s this morning …’

‘Are you certain it was June Miller?’ Beatrice frowned. ‘I know Betty Goodge is a convicted thief. If she was older she would be in prison – and that is probably where she belongs. I understand she is a bad influence on the other girls next door …’

‘Sometimes you get a bad one,’ Sergeant Sallis sighed heavily. ‘It seems to be bred in them and no matter how many chances you give them they won’t change. I’ve told Miss Saunders and she said that Betty was already on a warning so I dare say she may find herself on the way to the remand centre before she knows what has happened.’

‘Will you leave June to me, Sergeant?’

‘Yes, of course. It’s why I’ve told you. We don’t have any proof she actually stole something. She was with Betty Goodge and that was enough to bring me here, but perhaps if you talk to her she will see the error of her ways.’

‘I think I may have to send the children away after all, for June’s sake,’ Beatrice said. ‘I shall tell Archie that if he wishes to visit his mother he may do so and St Saviour’s will fund his fares to the prison and back to Halfpenny House. It is not ideal, but if the girl is in danger of being corrupted the sooner she is moved the better, and I do not think separating them would be the right thing.’

‘No, I am certain it would not,’ he agreed. ‘Well, I’ll get off home then. I know I can leave it to you to sort things out …’

‘Here, shove it in your pocket, June,’ Betty hissed as she handed her a fistful of lipsticks she’d snatched off the counter in Woolies. ‘We’d better make a run fer it or they’ll nab us …’

June giggled nervously. She was in awe of Betty, who was bold and daring and didn’t seem to fear anyone. She felt flattered that the older girl had noticed her and chosen her as her special friend. Betty was already leaving the shop when June felt the hand on her shoulder and was suddenly stopped in her tracks.

‘Betty …’ she cried piteously, but her friend looked back and grinned as she ran off, leaving June to face the anger of the shop manager by herself.

‘You’re in trouble now, girl,’ he said gruffly. ‘I’m holding you responsible for the theft of those lipsticks and you’ll sit quietly in my office until the police come … and it will be better for you if you tell me who the girl was that actually snatched them.’ He paused and frowned at her. ‘I saw what she did and I’ll tell Sergeant Sallis who was to blame – but you’re in serious trouble, girl, and she’s run off and left you to take the blame …’

June looked at him, tears hovering. ‘I want my mum,’ she whispered miserably. ‘I want to go home to my mum …’

‘Oh no, not again,’ Sister Beatrice groaned as Sergeant Sallis pushed June forward and told the sorry tale. It was his second visit of the day and by far the most serious. ‘June, what have you got to say for yourself?’

June hung her head but didn’t speak. Sister Beatrice sighed and looked at her sadly.

‘Don’t you know what kind of a girl she is, June? She isn’t your friend or she would’ve stayed with you and helped you – she got you into this trouble and you’re very lucky not to be sent to a remand home. If it happens again, I shan’t be able to stop the police bringing a case against you …’

‘I’m sorry. It was just a lipstick …’

‘At least four,’ Sister Beatrice shook her head. ‘Go along and have your tea, but remember this is your last chance …’

She stared at the police officer in exasperation as the door closed behind June. ‘She isn’t a bad child – it’s that Betty Goodge.’

‘I’ve spoken to Miss Saunders about her and she’s having her sent on to the remand centre. Apparently, she gave her one last chance – and now she’ll have time to repent at leisure …’

‘Do some of them ever learn? I don’t think even we could have helped that girl – and she’s certainly had no understanding or love next door …’

‘Miss Saunders doesn’t see things the way you do, Sister. It will be a sorry day if her kind ever takes over completely – they don’t seem to know the meaning of compassion; it’s all morals and rules with that lot.’