Christmas for the Halfpenny Orphans

‘Would your mum teach me? I could pay her the two and sixpence …’

‘Do that and she’ll chase you off with a chopper,’ Michelle teased. ‘She might be little but she’s pretty fierce if you get on the wrong side of her. No, seriously, bring some fruit or cakes. You’re a good cook, Mave said so at the wedding; you can make cakes. Our Freddie never has enough of them.’

‘I’ll do that, then,’ Alice said. ‘You’re my best friend, Michelle. Thanks for standing by me through all this. Everyone from St Saviour’s has been so good to me. Nan has invited me for tea this Sunday.’

‘I love Nan. Everyone does, she’s like a second mother to us all – but Sister Beatrice … well, I respect her, especially the way she keeps going whatever …’ Michelle hesitated, then went on, ‘I know you won’t say anything – but I think she might be unwell.’

‘Sister Beatrice, ill? I don’t believe it – unless you mean a cold or something?’

‘No, it’s worse than that …’ Again, Michelle paused as if unsure whether to continue. ‘I’ve seen her flinch like she’s in terrible pain – and sometimes her face goes very white.’

‘Has she said anything? She ought to see a doctor if she’s in pain.’

‘I don’t know whether she has seen one or not,’ Michelle said. ‘I daren’t ask. You know what Sister Beatrice is like. And she’s so irritable lately, I’ll probably get my head snapped off.’

‘Well, she would be touchy if she’s in pain. Someone ought to say,’ Alice said. ‘Why don’t you mention it to Angela? She won’t mess about – if she thinks you’re right, she’ll go straight in and say.’

‘Yes, she would,’ Michelle agreed. ‘Where angels fear to tread, Angela charges in regardless. I’m hoping she can help my father get the job of caretaker. She hasn’t said she can for definite, but if his tests are all right, and he’s not got TB, he’s in with a chance.’

‘It’s time your family had a bit of luck, Michelle. Are you hungry? How about I put the kettle on and we’ll have a slice of my coconut cake?’

‘Good idea,’ Michelle said as Alice filled the shiny new kettle one of the girls from St Saviour’s had bought her as a wedding present; it had a whistle that let everyone know when it was boiling. Alice set it on her modern gas cooker, which Michelle envied on her mother’s behalf. ‘I like coconut cake – especially if it’s moist and chewy.’

‘It’s moist,’ Alice said, then added doubtfully, ‘but I’m not sure it’s chewy – it isn’t one of those pyramid things you make with condensed milk. It’s a proper cake with a lot of coconut. I bought a bag of the desiccated stuff at the Home and Colonial. Isn’t it lovely that things are beginning to come back into the shops again?’

‘Best not eat too many cakes, even if you can buy them,’ Michelle teased. ‘If you want your figure back …’

‘Never was as slim as you,’ Alice said and laughed. ‘I’m so glad you came round, Michelle. You’re a real tonic.’

‘That’s what friends are for. I’ll always be your friend, Alice. We have to stick together, be there for each other.’

‘I know.’ Alice embraced her. ‘Don’t worry about your dad too much, love. I’m sure he’ll be fine.’

‘I hope you’re right. He’s ever so miserable since the doctor put him on that diet.’ Michelle sighed. ‘Oh well, he’s got an appointment at the hospital tomorrow for some tests, so we should know what’s wrong in a couple of weeks …’

Leaving Alice’s house two hours later, Michelle was lost in thoughts of her father as she walked through the narrow streets towards her tram stop. She was vaguely aware that several of the streetlights weren’t working, but when the moon disappeared behind a cloud it suddenly became difficult to see. A shiver ran through her, and Michelle registered that it wasn’t so much the cold night air that had caused it as the sense that she was being followed. She glanced over her shoulder and saw a man some distance behind her. When he noticed her looking at him, he stopped walking and bent to tie his shoelace.

Michelle walked on. Determined not to let on that she was afraid, she deliberately slowed her pace. Her shadow did the same. He was following her; she wasn’t imagining it. She turned into the next street, which was busy with people and traffic, then suddenly stopped within sight of her tram stop. Once again he stopped too, loitering outside a newsagent’s and pretending to be interested in the window display. When he turned to look at her, Michelle saw that he was uncertain what to do.

‘Why are you following me? What do you want?’

‘What makes you think I’m followin’ yer?’

‘We both know you are …’ At that moment Michelle saw a police constable approaching on his bike. He was within hailing distance. ‘Tell me what you want and go or I’ll scream and tell that policeman you threatened me.’

‘Bitch!’ The man grabbed her arm, his fingers pinching her flesh. ‘I’ve been told to give yer a warnin’. We ain’t forgot yer, Alice Cobb, even if yer are married to that bloody Army boy. One of these days Mr Lee will be payin’ yer a visit and you’d best tell him what yer know or you’ll be sorry.’

‘Tell Mr Lee he should look after his own affairs instead of employing idiots who don’t even know the person they’re supposed to be following. I’m not Alice and I’m not frightened of you or your Mr Lee.’ She glared at him. ‘Now take your hand off my arm and crawl back into whatever rotten hole you came out of. If you ever come near me or my friend Alice, I’ll be talking to the police about you and your Mr Lee.’

The policeman had seen them now and he shouted something. Michelle wrenched away from the man, who glared at her but then glanced nervously in the direction of the constable and set off at a brisk pace, disappearing into a nearby alley. The constable wobbled to a stop beside her, putting his feet to the floor. His trouser legs were clamped with bicycle clips, exposing shiny, thick-soled black boots; beneath the helmet that was firmly strapped under his chin, an anxious pair of eyes peered out at Michelle. He looked so young and inexperienced, she doubted that he would have been much use against the brute who’d harassed her.

‘Was that man annoying you, miss?’

‘Oh, it was a case of mistaken identity. He thought I was someone else.’

‘You don’t want anything to do with the likes of him. He’s a nasty piece of work, that Big Harry. Did he upset you?’

‘He gave me a bit of a shock,’ Michelle admitted, ‘but he didn’t hurt me. I think his intention was to give me a warning, but I told him he had the wrong person.’

‘His kind don’t care who they threaten,’ the constable said. ‘You be careful, walking alone at night, miss.’

‘It’s all right, I’m catching my tram now; it’s coming round the corner.’

‘Off you go then. And don’t worry – we’ll keep an eye on him. If he bothers you again, tell us and we’ll soon sort him out.’

Michelle smiled inwardly as she thought of the constable trying to sort out Big Harry, but she thanked him for coming to her assistance. Then, seeing her tram arriving, she excused herself and ran for her stop. It wasn’t until she sat down that she realised how shaken the experience had left her.

She wondered why Butcher Lee and his gang still thought Alice would know something about Jack Shaw – the East End bad boy that Alice had been soft on but who had left her high and dry. After all, she was married to someone else now, and Jack hadn’t been seen since the night he broke into the boot factory with Arthur Baggins, intending to rob the safe. Someone had set fire to the building while they were inside; Arthur had escaped, but Jack was presumed to have died. If by some chance he had escaped, he surely wouldn’t risk returning to London knowing the Lee gang were out to kill him.

Michelle was pretty sure Alice knew no more about Jack’s fate than she did, otherwise she would certainly have mentioned it. Still, if Lee thought otherwise she’d have to warn Alice to be on her guard.

The morning after Michelle’s visit, Alice returned from the market to find a letter waiting for her. The sight of it sent a tingle of apprehension down her spine: it was addressed to Miss Alice Cobb rather than Mrs Manning, and she was almost certain she knew the handwriting.

For a moment she considered putting it straight in the bin without opening it, but something wouldn’t let her. Though she knew she ought not to read it, she couldn’t resist slitting it open and taking out the contents.

I got a mate to deliver this, Alice love. He said he knew where you were living and I daren’t bring it myself. I can’t come to your home, but I want to see you. I should never have left you. I think of you and my kid all the time, and now I’ve got things sorted we can go to America. My ship leaves in three weeks and I want us to be on it together. Please meet me, Alice. It’s too dangerous for me to come to you, but if you take the train to Southend, I’ll meet you by the pier. Come next Saturday and I’ll be there every hour from twelve until nine at night. I’ve put in £2 for your fare, and the key to a locker at Euston Station. I need you to fetch a parcel for me, Alice love. No one will notice you and it’s important … do that for me, Alice, and you’ll never regret it, I promise.

I still love you, Alice. I’ve never stopped thinking about you, but I had to keep moving around. People were looking for me, and I couldn’t let you know where I was until now.

So he was alive! Alice sat down on the nearest chair, feeling sick and shaken. Her hands trembled as she was caught by a surge of disbelief mixed with elation. He was alive, despite what everyone had told her. She felt overwhelming excitement followed almost as swiftly by despair, for it was too late. Tears stung her eyes and trickled silently down her cheeks, as she realised that she still cared for him.

She’d never quite given up on Jack Shaw, even when everyone said he was dead, but now she felt as if the breath had been knocked out of her. Alice looked at the two one-pound notes Jack had sent, staring at them as if they would burn her. She held the small key with a numbered tab in her hand and frowned. What was it that Jack wanted her to fetch? It must be important to him or he wouldn’t have asked. As glad as she was to learn that he hadn’t died in the fire, she knew she couldn’t trust him. He’d probably put some of the stuff he’d stolen in that locker and Alice wanted nothing to do with his ill-gotten gains.

Had this letter arrived only a few months ago she’d have gone to Jack without a second thought, even though she knew he couldn’t be trusted. Part of her longed to go to him even now, in spite of the way he’d abandoned her and their daughter to fend for themselves, but she couldn’t. She was married to Bob now, and she wouldn’t hurt him, not after all he’d done for her. He was a good, decent man and she was fond of him.

But fond wasn’t the kind of all-consuming love she’d felt for Jack. A bitter sense of loss filled her and she knew that, despite everything, she still loved Jack; he was still there inside her head and her heart, even though he’d let her down. She’d tried to forget him but all it took was this letter to start up that aching need inside – but she couldn’t go to him, she couldn’t leave Bob.

She shoved the money and key in her apron pocket, feeling the tears sting her eyes and the angry hurt well up inside her as the shock started to wear off. If he came knocking on her door she would give him back his money and that key. It was the only thing to do – the decent thing.

Alice wouldn’t be on that train on Saturday. She was going to keep her promise to help out with the teas at Angela’s charity sale. She wouldn’t meet Jack in Southend, she wouldn’t see him ever again – but a part of her wanted to. A part of her wanted to take her child and run to the man she loved. Regret surged, and she wished that she’d never agreed to marry. If only she’d turned down Bob’s proposal and stayed with Nan, then she would be free – but for what? What sort of a life was Jack offering her?

Hearing her baby cry, Alice went into the kitchen and picked her up, looking down at her with love. Her heart felt as if it were being torn in two as she held Susie to her breast and rocked her. She was Jack’s child, but did he have the right to know her after the way he’d deserted them?

Besides, it was too dangerous. The Lee gang were still watching her; every so often someone would follow her when she went out with the baby, and only this morning she’d noticed a man staring at her in the market. Thus far, no one had approached her and she’d hoped that after a while they would realise it was a waste of time and give up.

No, it was stupid even to think of Jack. If he’d truly wanted her, loved her, he would have kept his promise to send for her a long time ago. In fact, the more she thought about it, the more she suspected that the only reason he’d got in touch was because he needed her to fetch whatever was in that locker.

Bitterness swept through her as she remembered the way Jack had broken his promises in the past. He was no good, just as her father had warned at the start.

EIGHT

‘That seemed to go well,’ Wendy said, surveying the empty stalls after the sale of second-hand clothes and bits and pieces had finished. ‘I don’t know how you manage to find so many nice things to sell, Angela. I bought a good leather bag for myself.’

‘I have to thank my father for a lot of it.’ Angela turned to him with a smile. He was waiting patiently to take her home so that she could change for the evening. ‘Dad asked our neighbours if they had anything for me to sell on behalf of St Saviour’s and they overwhelmed him with stuff. He sent it up in three large boxes on the train.’

‘Nan told me you’ve raised almost a hundred pounds from the Bring and Buy evenings you’ve been holding at your home, and hers.’

‘It seems women like exchanging the clothes they don’t want for something different, so we’ve done well, but once rationing is over and there’s new stuff in the shops people won’t want second-hand so much.’

‘A lot of women won’t ever be able to afford anything else.’ Wendy laughed softly. ‘Some of these clothes are better than anything I could afford to buy new. Besides, whatever happens in future, you’ll think of something. Everyone says you’ve done wonders since you’ve been here. The children have all sorts of treats these days, and it’s all down to you.’

‘It’s a team effort—’ Angela stopped abruptly as she noticed the man standing near the hall doorway. ‘I didn’t know he was here.’

Wendy followed her gaze. ‘Who is he?’

‘His name’s Arnold.’ Angela’s father frowned. ‘He arrived at the same time as I did. You were too busy to notice, Angela.’

‘I met him at a charity meeting the other night. I can’t think what he’s doing here though.’ Angela tried not to let the others see her annoyance. ‘Come on, Dad, let’s go. I want to get changed before we go out this evening. Wendy will finish up here for me, won’t you?’

‘You know I will, Angela,’ the staff nurse said, smiling. ‘Have a lovely time with your father.’

‘Angela …’ Henry Arnold touched her arm as she was about to pass him. ‘I was hoping we might have a word?’

‘Please telephone me, Mr Arnold,’ she said. ‘This is my father – Mr Hendry. We have an appointment and must leave now.’

‘I really do need to talk to you, Angela.’

‘Another time,’ Angela said. ‘Please excuse us, we have to go.’

She took her father’s arm and propelled him away. He looked at her, puzzled by her abrupt manner, which had bordered on rudeness. ‘That isn’t like you, Angela. The man was only being polite.’

‘I know, but I don’t like him. I may have to deal with him on behalf of the charity I represent, but I don’t have to spend time with him otherwise.’

‘Not like you at all,’ her father said, puzzled. ‘Ah, here’s Adderbury. You’re not going to brush him off too, I hope?’

‘No, certainly not,’ Angela said, but smiled hesitantly as Mark came up to them. ‘You almost missed us. We had a successful afternoon.’

‘I had hoped to be here sooner, but I was delayed. I’m glad it all went well for you.’

‘Yes, it did.’ Angela smiled at him. ‘Please call me when you can, Mark. We should talk sometime, but you’re always so busy.’

‘I’ll find the time,’ he promised. ‘Have a good evening. Nice to see you, Edward. We must catch up soon.’

‘Drop by for a drink one weekend, when you’re in the country.’ The two men shook hands and they parted.

Angela opened the door of her car. She didn’t often bother to drive in town but she’d had several bits and pieces to bring over earlier.

‘Well,’ she said as she eased the car into the steady stream of traffic. ‘I think you’ve got something to tell me, Dad?’

‘It’s about your mother,’ he said. ‘Good news and … well, rather odd news too, but I’ll explain when we get to your apartment. You need to concentrate on the traffic, Angela …’

Angela installed her father in one of the most comfortable chairs, gave him a drink and then sat down opposite, looking at him expectantly. He sipped the wine, nodded his approval, placed it on the small table at his side and assumed a serious expression.

‘Your mother wrote to me. She says she feels much better and doesn’t think she needs to stay at the clinic any longer, but … she doesn’t want to come home.’

‘What do you mean, she doesn’t want to come home?’ Angela was puzzled. ‘If she feels better, why wouldn’t she come home?’

‘Apparently she wants to stay with a friend she met in Switzerland. She’s been invited to say in a villa in the South of France and that’s what she wants to do.’

‘Not come home to you? Is she cured, after only a few months?’ Angela couldn’t believe she was hearing this properly. ‘Have you been invited to this villa too?’

‘No, there was no mention of it – and I’m not sure I’d want to go if there had been.’ He hesitated, then, ‘I’m not sure she is cured yet – but the clinic is voluntary. I can’t force her to stay if she wants to leave, Angela.’

Her father was looking tired, his skin grey and his whole manner defeated, as if he was finding it all too much to bear. She hadn’t noticed at the Church Hall, but now she could see that his youthful air had left him. He’d always seemed so much younger than her mother, still a handsome man and full of vitality, but now he looked drained.

‘Are you ill, Daddy?’ she asked quietly. ‘Is it your heart?’

‘Well, you know I’m not the man I was.’ He forced a smile. ‘I’m feeling a bit upset, that’s all. I thought when your mother left the clinic she would come home to me – but her letter was that of a stranger, someone writing out of duty …’

‘Does she know you’re not well?’

‘No, and I don’t want her to,’ he said, giving Angela a direct look. ‘It’s nothing serious, my love – and if she’s happier staying with her new friends … Well, we must let her have her life. It seems that your mother was disappointed in me. I couldn’t give her what she wanted. So now … she’s decided to go her own way.’

‘It sounds as if you think she isn’t coming back.’

‘I’ll be surprised if she does. You see, the friend she’s going to stay with is a man. Quite a wealthy man, I gather.’

‘Oh, Daddy!’ Angela was shocked at the implication in her father’s news. ‘After all you’ve done for her – for us …’ Angela felt anger rise up inside her. How could her mother have done this to him, especially when he was unwell.

‘Perhaps it is for the best, my love. You mustn’t worry about me. Someone comes in twice a week to clean and she does a bit of shopping and cooking for me, so I’m well looked after and I still have you – don’t I?’

‘You know you do,’ she said, but her eyes stung with tears and her throat was tight. Her head was running the whole gamut of emotions: love and hurt for his sake, and anger with her mother for behaving so callously. ‘I’m sorry, Dad. I think she is being very unfair.’

‘She thinks we’re the ones who’ve been unfair to her. Your mother believes I love you more than her – and she might be right. In truth, our marriage has been over for some years, but I tried to hold it together for everyone’s sake and the result was disaster. Mark explained it all to me; it seems that the drinking, the shoplifting and spending sprees were all symptoms of an illness that was created by deep depression.’

‘But you gave us both so much, Dad.’

‘I tried, but it wasn’t enough for her … Perhaps what I gave was only money, at least as far as she was concerned. Had I loved her enough, I might have seen her despair years ago, but I was too busy – and I must admit, selfish too. Don’t imagine I shall go into a decline even if it comes to a divorce. I’m sorry for your sake though, Angela; we’ve let you down, and people will talk.’

Angela got up and went to kneel at his side, looking up at him earnestly. ‘You’ve never let me down, Daddy. If you need me, I’ll come home,’ she promised. ‘Remember that, dearest. You are the most important person in the world to me.’

‘I’m managing, my darling girl,’ he said, tenderly stroking her hair. ‘I thought you should know and it isn’t the kind of thing I wanted to say on the phone or in a letter.’

‘No, better to hear it from you,’ she agreed, but inside she was fuming. Her mother had sent him a letter rather than tell him to his face and that made her furious, but there was no point in saying more. He had accepted it and to make a fuss would only cause him more strain. ‘Now you must excuse me while I go and get ready for dinner. Tonight we’re going to have a lovely evening together, Dad, no matter what.’

NINE

‘I took Sarah’s pinafore skirt to be washed,’ Wendy told Angela as they sat drinking coffee in the staff room a few days later. ‘That dirty old pipe was in the pocket and I was tempted to throw it out, but instead I gave it a bit of a wash and put it in the locker by the side of her bed.’

‘That was good of you,’ Angela said. ‘To us it’s only a dirty old thing, but it means something to that child and she doesn’t have much.’

‘She’s a bit backward …’ Wendy twiddled a strand of her light brown hair round her finger. She was growing it longer so that she would be able to put it back in a knot under her nurses’ cap, but felt it was dull and unremarkable, and envied Angela her pale blonde locks. Angela had such lovely eyes too, the colour of an azure sky. ‘Have you noticed that she agrees with everything Samantha says, echoing her like a parrot?’

‘Yes, I think we all have, though she can speak independently if she wishes. Do you think they are settling into the dorm all right?’

Wendy hesitated before she answered, then inclined her head. ‘Yes, they’ve settled quite well. I think Samantha is happy enough here. She and Mary Ellen get on well and I think they’re working on a scheme to earn some more stars for a trip to the zoo.’

‘Yes, all the children like to earn points towards that trip.’ Angela laughed. ‘Have you settled in now, Wendy?’

‘Yes, I think so,’ Wendy looked sad, her soft brown eyes moist. ‘It took me a while to get used to living in the Nurses’ Home after Mother died – but I’m getting over that now.’

‘It must have been so sad for you, nursing her yourself at home.’

‘It was what I wanted to do, but it was heartbreaking.’

‘I’m sure it must have been,’ Angela agreed. ‘Losing someone you love is terrible – but seeing them fade … I’m sorry, I can see it still hurts you.’

‘No, not now,’ Wendy said. ‘I loved Mum and I’m glad to talk about her, Angela. Everyone avoids the subject – but you know what it’s like to lose someone …’

‘Yes.’ Angela got up to pour more coffee but Wendy shook her head.

‘I ought to be getting back to the wards, thanks all the same.’

Wendy left Angela and went out into the hall, but instead of returning to the wards immediately, she went into the new wing. It still smelled of fresh paint and everything looked modern and bright, much nicer than the old wing.

Hearing the sound of crying and screaming as she approached Mary Ellen’s dorm, she hastened her step. A child was in acute distress and by the sound of it that child was one of the twins – Sarah.