The Little Angel

by Rosie Goodwin

  He’s growing up so fast, Sunday thought to herself. He was almost as tall as she was now and already showed signs of turning into a very comely young man. His hair was thick and the colour of ripe corn, and his eyes were a lovely deep blue colour. Sunday felt a pang of regret as she realised that, in not too many years’ time, he would be ready to fly the nest and make his own way in the world. She had tried her best to ensure that he and all the other children at the Home enjoyed the stability that she herself had lacked in her early years in the workhouse. But because Ben had been the first foundling she and Tom had taken in, he too had a special place in her heart and she dreaded the day when she would have to let him go. Not that he’d shown any inclination to leave as yet, fortunately. Ben loved nothing more than helping George and Tom with any odd jobs that needed doing when he wasn’t attending the local school, and deep inside, Sunday secretly hoped that he might want to stay with them. They would be able to afford to pay him a small wage, if that was what he chose to do. Goodness knows, there was always more than enough to keep everyone busy about the house and grounds, and another pair of hands would be more than welcome. But that was still a few years in the future.

  It was only recently that Sunday had realised what a wrench it was going to be when the first of her foundlings grew up and left, but for now she pushed the thought away and turned her attention back to the children gambolling about on the lawn like spring lambs. Life is almost perfect, she found herself thinking. The location of Treetops Children’s Home was idyllic. It nestled close to Hartshill Hayes, a well-known Warwickshire beauty spot. The Hayes consisted of over 137 acres of unspoiled forest, and the view from the top on a clear day was breathtaking: you could see many of the neighbouring counties. In the summer, Sunday and Tom and their brood, and many local families enjoyed picnics there and the children would romp amongst the trees. Perhaps one day I shall have a child of my very own to join them, Sunday mused wistfully, but for now she was grateful for the ones in her care, particularly Ben and Kitty. She hadn’t included Maggie in her thoughts, she noted guiltily – but then Maggie was a particularly needy little girl, which was perhaps what made her so difficult to love.

  The spring and summer of 1900 passed in the blink of an eye, and before they knew it they were into winter and the first Christmas of this new millennium was fast approaching. Sunday was spending every spare minute she had shopping for Christmas presents for the children with her mother and planning special activities. Christmas was always a joyous occasion at the Home. Already Mrs Rose, the plump and motherly cook, had a number of Christmas puddings soaking in brandy and a row of rich fruit cakes had been made weeks ago and were ready to be iced. Like many of the staff, Tabitha Rose had worked there since Treetops had opened as a home for foundlings. She and her late husband, Fred, who had been a hard-working miner at the Haunchwood pit, had never been blessed with children of their own and so working at the Home had fulfilled a need in her and she spoiled the children shamelessly. Sunday regularly scolded her for slipping treats to them between meals although there was always a forgiving twinkle in her eye when she did so, well aware that her words went in one ear and out of the other. The way Mrs Rose saw it, Sunday was little more than a child herself, and so she spoiled her too.

  The rest of the staff consisted of Mrs Brewer, the efficient housekeeper, who kept the house running in an orderly fashion, and Laura the laundry maid who somehow managed to plough her way through mountains of washing and ironing each week without complaint. Laura was in her late twenties and also lived in. Her parents had been only too glad to let her leave home and live at Treetops as Laura was, as her mother termed it, ‘a little slow’. For all that she was a pleasant-natured young woman and another great favourite with the children. Bessie, the general maid, was the one responsible for cleaning the house and lighting the fires each morning, and she shared a bedroom in the servants’ quarters with Laura, whom she had taken under her wing. Then there was Jessie, the kitchen maid who assisted Mrs Rose. Finally, the two girls Em’ly and Ruth served the meals and in between helped out with anything that needed doing as well as acting as the parlour maids. Both Em’ly and Jessie lived in the village and turned in for work each morning bright and early. Sunday, Lavinia, Cissie and Zillah cared for the children, while the men tackled the outside jobs, kept the gardens tidy and did any repairs that were required in the house, so all in all for most of the time the Home ran harmoniously and Sunday was content.

  On the fourteenth of December, Kitty celebrated her fourth birthday. She rose that morning with her face aglow with excitement. As a special treat, Sunday had promised to take her into town and she was looking forward to it immensely.

  She came step by step down the flight of stairs and went into the dining room, where her eyes shone to see the small pile of presents waiting for her on the breakfast table. Maggie watched her enviously. Her own fourth birthday in June felt so long ago.

  ‘Come on, darling, open them up,’ Sunday encouraged and Kitty happily did as she was told. There were a number of small gifts from the staff, including a game of Spillikins, some marbles and a tin of toffees with a dog on the front, who looked just like Barney, the golden labrador at the Home. But it was the present from Sunday and Lady Huntley that made the child’s eyes pop. The beautiful doll with a china face and eyes that opened and shut was the one that she had admired in the toyshop window, the last time they had gone into town.

  ‘Oh, she’s lovely, thank you!’ The child was almost crying with delight as she cuddled the doll to her while the adults looked on indulgently. ‘I shall call her Annabelle.’

  ‘That’s a silly name,’ Maggie declared immediately and Sunday frowned at her.

  ‘That’s quite enough, Maggie. You don’t want to spoil Kitty’s birthday for her, do you?’

  Maggie sniffed and crossed her arms. That was exactly what she wanted to do although she didn’t say it, of course. She just wished that someone would come along and take Kitty away so that she could be the baby of the family again. Only the year before, a childless couple had come along wishing to offer Kitty a home with them but Sunday had refused – and eventually they had gone away with a little boy called Alfred, who had only been at the Home for a week and was now the apple of their eyes. They hadn’t even looked at Maggie. Everyone made a fuss of Kitty, and the way the other little girl saw it, it wasn’t fair! Just because Kitty was pretty! Ben adored her too, although even at her tender age, Maggie would have laid down her life for him. Sinking down further in her seat, tears filled her eyes as she stared at the birthday girl. Bessie had mentioned that Kitty would be going into town with Sunday and Tom in his new motor car later that day, but they hadn’t taken Maggie into town when it was her birthday! She conveniently didn’t recall the reason why: that she had been ill in bed with a cold!

  Then Sunday shocked her somewhat when she suggested, ‘Why don’t you come into town with us, Maggie? You were too poorly to come when it was your birthday but I’m sure Kitty wouldn’t mind you joining us today.’

  Kitty smiled her agreement, for she wasn’t one to bear a grudge, and Maggie wrestled with her conflicting thoughts. She didn’t really want to be in Kitty’s company for a second longer than she had to be – she just wanted to have Sunday all to herself – but if she didn’t go along she would be cutting off her nose to spite her face.

  ‘All right,’ she agreed reluctantly.

  ‘Good!’ Sunday smiled. ‘Then let’s all get this lovely breakfast eaten and then we’ll be on our way.’

  Over the next few minutes the piles of bacon, eggs and sausages disappeared at an alarming rate and when the meal was over Sunday ushered Kitty and Maggie upstairs to put their Sunday-best clothes on. Maggie’s coat and bonnet were made of a fine wool in a dark navy-blue colour, which suited her colouring, while Kitty’s were made in an identical wool and design in bright red that set off her dark eyes and hair to perfection.

  ‘There!’ Sunday sighed with satisfaction as she tie
d the ribbons of Kitty’s bonnet beneath her chin while Maggie stood to one side, scuffing her best shoes on the ground. ‘You both look beautiful. Now let’s go and see if Tom has brought the car around to the front, shall we?’

  She took their hands and led them downstairs, one on either side of her, to find Tom standing proudly beside his new toy, explaining how it worked yet again to Ben, who was totally enthralled with it. It was a Daimler shooting brake, which had been manufactured in Coventry three years before.

  ‘It’s six horsepower, with twin cylinders and a four-speed gearbox,’ she heard Tom tell the boy as they peered in at the engine as if it was the best invention on earth. Then, spotting his wife, Tom grinned sheepishly. ‘Sorry, love. I was just running over a few things with Ben.’

  Sunday said tartly, ‘I should think he knows it all by now, the amount of time you two spend playing with this contraption.’ She was secretly still rather afraid of it and much preferred the horse and trap, but Tom asked for so little that she hadn’t found it in her to deny him it.

  Ben meanwhile had spotted Kitty, and bending down to her level, he chucked her under the chin, saying, ‘My, don’t we look smart today, eh? Off into town for a birthday treat, are we?’

  Kitty nodded. She was clutching the small bird he had carved for her as a present for her birthday and his chest swelled with pride as he noticed. ‘Right, well, I hadn’t better hold you up.’ He glanced up at the grey sky. ‘I wouldn’t be surprised if we didn’t have snow sometime soon. I reckon I can smell it.’

  Sunday gave him a playful punch on the arm. ‘Oh, you and your weather forecasting,’ she teased, although truthfully she was forced to admit that nine times out of ten he was right in his predictions. They then settled the two little girls into the back seat, placed a warm rug over their legs and seconds later they were whizzing off down the drive as Sunday hung on to her hat.

  ‘You’re looking rather lovely today, pet,’ Tom remarked, daring to take his eyes off the road for a moment to admire Sunday’s new outfit. The days of the crinoline were gone and now women were favouring a longer, straighter skirt, with a small train at the back.

  Sunday flushed with pleasure. She was wearing a light brown and cream heavy silk day dress with a darker brown coat over the top of it and a large hat boasting feathers that had been dyed to match her outfit. For most of the time she didn’t have the inclination to worry about changing fashions but Lavinia had insisted she should have this one as a treat – and Sunday loved it.

  ‘Thank you, sir,’ she answered coyly, smiling prettily at him. ‘You don’t look so bad yourself.’

  In the back seat, Kitty giggled and Maggie grinned too as the car motored on.

  Soon they were strolling amongst the market stalls in Nuneaton town centre, enjoying the hustle and bustle. Kitty took Sunday’s hand and hauled her in the direction of the cattle market, followed by Tom and Maggie. She loved the atmosphere there and was fascinated by all the animals that were for sale. The little group wandered amongst the pens as red-faced farmers bartered noisily over chickens and cows and sheep.

  Eventually Sunday told them: ‘It’s time to say goodbye to the animals, girls. I have a few things I need to get for Cook, then if you’re both very good I’ll take you to the tea rooms for an ice cream. How about that?’ Even Maggie looked momentarily happy at the prospect of such a treat and the four of them hurried on their way, their faces rosy with the cold.

  However, people repeatedly stopped to tell Kitty what a pretty little girl she was. Ignoring Maggie, they commented on her lovely hair and her striking eyes or stared at her admiringly – and soon Maggie’s happy mood had soured. It didn’t matter where they went, it was always the same, and the attention that Kitty attracted only made the other girl feel all the more desperate for someone to love her, for deep inside she was feeling very vulnerable and alone. Even so, she enjoyed the shopping trip and the visit to the tea rooms and so she was in a slightly mellower frame of mind by the time they all returned to Treetops.

  ‘I do worry about the way Maggie seems to be so envious of Kitty,’ Sunday confided to Tom as they were getting ready for bed. She was sitting at her dressing table brushing out her long fair hair as he lay in bed propped against the pillows watching her. Even though they had now been married for a good ten years he still couldn’t get enough of her and adored the very ground she walked on.

  ‘The problem is that even though they’re both very young, Maggie has already realised that Kitty is prettier than her,’ he answered, and Sunday nodded as she paused with the brush still in her hand. ‘And,’ he added cautiously, ‘I know you don’t mean to do it, my love, but you do rather tend to favour Kitty.’

  ‘I’m afraid you’re right,’ she said, and her voice was rueful. ‘I must try harder with Maggie but she makes it so difficult at times. And other times I think Kitty is just too pretty for her own good and it worries me. I fear that when she’s older, men will be drawn to her like moths to a flame.’

  ‘That’s a long way in the future,’ Tom said. ‘We’ll worry about that when we come to it, but for now … why don’t you come to bed and get your old man warm?’

  Sunday laid down the hairbrush and approached the bed, only too willing to do as she was asked.

  Chapter Two

  It was almost five years to the day since they had found Kitty on the doorstep when Em’ly tapped on the drawing-room door to tell Sunday, ‘This was left outside, missus. I heard the sound of a motor car in the distance an’ I peeked out, and that was when I saw it lyin’ there.’

  Sunday glanced at the large brown envelope and instantly guessed what it was. Each year in December, a similar envelope containing a sum of money had been left there. This year she had spent most of the month peeping out of the front windows, hoping to catch a glimpse of whoever it was that had left it – but once again she had somehow missed them.

  Tom looked at her and quipped, ‘Seems they’ve evaded you again.’ Then, taking the envelope from her, he opened it and let out a silent whistle at the banknotes enclosed inside. ‘This is far too much for one child’s keep,’ he said. ‘Perhaps we should start to put it away for Kitty for when she’s older?’

  Sunday had been thinking much the same thing herself, and was relieved to learn that Tom was of the same mind. ‘I think that’s an excellent idea, but I can’t understand how I missed them again.’ Her eyes strayed back to the window and she sighed with frustration.

  ‘But you haven’t been able to stand there every minute,’ her husband pointed out. ‘And I dare say whoever it is will make themselves known when the time is right.’

  ‘I suppose so,’ she agreed, but she couldn’t help but be curious. Whoever it was who was paying such a large sum of money for Kitty’s expenses must truly care about her. The trouble was, Sunday dreaded the day when they might well turn up and take Kitty back, because she had come to love the child as her own. Even so, now was not the time to fret about it, she decided. Christmas was racing towards them and there were the rest of the children to think about, so she left Tom to put the money away in the safe and went about her business.

  ‘Now calm down, you lot, else this tree is goin’ to be ruined. We can’t all get to it at once,’ Cissie scolded. Earlier in the day, Tom and George had taken the pony and trap into town and arrived home with the biggest Christmas tree any of them had ever seen. Now it stood in a large bucket of earth in the entrance hall and the children were keen to decorate it. The trouble was, they were attacking it from all sides, jostling each other, and Cissie was getting harassed. Thankfully, just then, Em’ly appeared to tell them, ‘Come on, all of you, dinner is served. Into the dinin’ room now afore it gets cold.’

  There was a mad exodus as the children immediately discarded the ornaments they were holding and headed off as if they hadn’t eaten for a month.

  ‘Phew!’ Cissie sighed with relief and looked up at Sunday, who was balancing rather precariously on a stepladder in order to decorate the top o
f the tree. It was only inches from the high ceiling and like Cissie she was feeling a bit on edge. She just hoped no one let Barney the labrador out of the boot room where he’d been put to keep him from ‘helping’. The cats would no doubt come and investigate. One year, they had pulled the entire tree down.

  ‘Aren’t you going for your dinner, pet?’ Sunday asked Kitty as she tentatively descended the ladder. The child was standing observing the tree with her thumb jammed in her mouth.

  ‘I wanted to wait for you,’ she said.

  As Sunday’s feet landed on the ground the child took her hand and Sunday’s heart melted as she felt the warm tiny fingers in her own. She suffered all manner of guilt feelings about the love she felt about Kitty; after all, she had always promised herself that every child in her care should be treated equally – but try as she might, she couldn’t stop herself from having a soft spot for this little one. There was something about her that was just so appealing. True, she grew prettier with every month that passed, but it wasn’t just her looks that made her so lovable, it was her character too. The little girl rarely complained about anything, even Maggie’s sulks. This worried Sunday, for she was aware that she wouldn’t always be there to protect her, and Kitty’s passive nature meant that others might easily take advantage of her. She had often remarked on this to Tom, but he waved aside her concerns. ‘That’s a long way off,’ he would tell her – and she supposed he was right.

  Now she and Cissie headed for the dining room with Kitty walking sedately between them and found themselves amidst noisy and less than organised chaos. A scrimmage, in fact. Kitty instantly skipped off to claim the seat at the side of Ben. Maggie had already positioned herself on the other side of him and she made a face at Kitty as Ben affectionately tousled Kitty’s shining dark hair. The children were all highly excited about the delivery of the tree and the fact that Christmas was almost upon them, and they were so noisy that the four adults could barely make themselves heard above the laughter and chatting.