by Cathy Sharp
‘I shan’t because I shan’t go,’ she said. ‘If you’ve got to stay here then I’ll stay too. You’re my only friend in the whole world now, Billy, and we’ll stick together. Whatever they do to us, we’ll be there for each other.’
Billy looked at her in surprise, then solemnly put his hand over hers. ‘It’s a pact,’ he said in hushed tones. ‘A promise to keep until we die.’
‘A promise to keep until we die,’ Mary Ellen repeated. ‘Ooh, that sounds important, doesn’t it? But we will be friends always, Billy. They shan’t part us whatever they do …’
TEN
Angela saw the girl sitting outside in the garden as she came across from the Nurses’ Home. For the first few days she’d worked flat out on various lists and reports for Sister Beatrice, but today she’d had the afternoon off and had taken the chance to do some shopping, buying a few pretty things for her room at the home; the glass vases and china ornaments had already brightened the place up a bit. As soon as she was sure that she would be staying on at St Saviour’s she could look for her own small apartment, but she was still concerned about fitting in here, because she couldn’t just force the changes she considered necessary and needed to win the staff’s confidence first. However, Nan had welcomed her without reserve and Angela had enjoyed having her morning break with her and Mary Ellen. She didn’t know why, but something about the little girl’s woebegone face had reached out and grabbed at her heart. She’d winked at her, because she’d wanted to see her smile, and had seen the child’s solemn look ease a little.
Already, Angela had become immersed in the lives of the children who lived here at St Saviour’s. There were so many of them, and they seemed to arrive with alarming regularity. Some were here only for a few hours while relatives were contacted, some a few days or weeks until a mother or father was able to come and collect them, but most would be here for a long time unless they were lucky enough to be adopted, and that was a difficult and complicated affair. Most suitable couples who wanted to adopt were looking for babies or very young children; the older the children were, the less likely it was that they would find a new family, and that was heartbreaking.
Angela was aware of a burning desire to help all those she could; a new-found zeal for righting the wrongs of a cruel world had begun to fill the empty spaces inside her. She no longer lay awake late into the night aching for the sound of a voice she would never hear again, though at times something would remind her and catch her out. Her love for John was still there deep in her heart, but she knew she had to make a new life, find a purpose for her existence.
She believed she could be happy here, but Sister Beatrice was still treating her as if she were a leper and how she would react when she knew Angela was here to recommend changes she might not like, Angela dare not think. There would certainly be personality clashes before too long! It would be much better if she could win the starchy Sister over to her point of view by gentle persuasion.
Hearing a loud sniff followed by a wail of grief, Angela pushed her own problems to the back of her mind. She knew that girl. Alice was one of the carers, dressed in the pink-striped shirtwaist and white apron they all wore, to distinguish them from the nurses who had a pale grey uniform. She’d noticed Alice, because she always seemed to be working hard, though she had a sharp voice and sometimes raised it to the children. Of course, some of them could be very naughty; they weren’t all little angels and could drive anyone to distraction. Alice wasn’t the sort to give way to tears easily and so Angela stopped and sat down beside her on the wooden bench.
‘It is a bit chilly out here,’ she said conversationally. ‘Is something the matter, Alice? Have you had bad news from home?’
‘No, thanks for asking.’ Alice took out a large handkerchief and blew her nose. She seemed to consider for a moment, then, ‘I’m in trouble with Sister Beatrice. I have to see her before I go home and I’m afraid she’s going to sack me. Ma will go mad if she does. My father’s on short time at the Docks and we need my wages coming in …’
‘I’m sure you can’t have done anything very terrible,’ Angela said in a reassuring tone. ‘You always seem to me to be conscientious in your work, Alice.’
‘I try my best, miss – but it was that Billy Baggins. He was playing up and Sister saw me shake him … I know I shouldn’t lose my temper with the children, but he’s enough to try the patience of a saint!’
Angela laughed softly and shook her head. ‘Yes, I know he is a bit of a terror. Sally was telling me he’d tried to play her up the other evening. She made a joke of it, though. I think she likes him despite his bad manners and his wilfulness.’
‘He takes more notice of Sally than of me. I suppose I should ignore him, but I can’t help getting cross. He’s a bright lad, but he just wastes his time … thinks it’s clever to be like that good-for-nothing brother of his.’
‘He will grow out of it sooner or later,’ Angela said. ‘Next time count to ten before you lose your temper. If he sees he can rile you he will do it all the more.’
‘I know.’ Alice sighed. ‘He reminds me of my brother Saul, always in trouble at school and thinks it’s funny. Oh well, I may not be here much longer to worry about Billy …’
‘I’m sure Sister will just want to remind you of your duty to the children. Why should she sack you? You are a good worker.’ Angela glanced at her neat gold wristwatch. ‘When do you go to see her?’
‘In another hour. I’ve got to help get the trays ready for supper before I leave.’
‘Look, I’m going back to my office now. Shall I have a word with Sister? Tell her that you were just doing your job?’
‘It’s good of you to offer.’ Alice gave her a grateful glance but then shook her head. ‘Best you don’t say anything, though. It might make her angry.’
‘Very well, but cheer up, I’m sure she’s a fair woman underneath and she won’t be too harsh with you.’
Angela left the girl to return to the kitchens while she continued into the home and upstairs. She hesitated outside Sister’s office but then went into her own. She had decided to build a register of the illnesses that each child presently living at the home was known to have suffered in the past. She’d enlisted Sally and Michelle to help her collect the information. It was always useful to know how many children might be susceptible to infectious diseases. She intended to make a similar list for the staff, because Maisie hadn’t contracted chicken pox after all; she’d gone down with the influenza, which had affected six of the staff in turn – four of them from the kitchen and two carers.
It was Cook finding herself with almost no helpers that had induced her to allow Angela to help prepare tea trays for the staff room and for the sick children’s ward. She’d had strict instructions to consult Cook’s list, but at least she could now be useful in the kitchen. The present inmates of the sick ward were not suffering from infectious diseases; thankfully, the outbreak of chicken pox had been confined to the three children who had brought it in, thanks to Nurse Michelle’s quick thinking and Sister’s strict hygiene measures.
Angela had begun to make friends with the staff here. Most of the carers were talkative, lively girls, though she knew that they were still a little suspicious of her, because she came from a different background, and even though she chose her plainest clothes, and wore no other jewellery but her wedding ring for work, she was conscious that they might seem expensive to girls who lived in the East End of London.
Busy typing up her lists for the files, Angela became aware that her door had opened and Sister was standing there looking at her.
‘What are you doing? I thought the accounts were ready for tomorrow’s meeting?’
‘Yes, they are. I’ve been creating lists so that we know what illnesses our children have had – in case we should have a visitation from something nasty. I think we ought to have the medical records of all our children on file. In fact I’m sure it will soon be a statuary obligation.’
‘Humph …�
� Sister’s lips twisted as if she thought it a waste of time. ‘I want you to prepare Alice Cobb’s wage sheet. I’m going to dismiss her and I shall give her a month’s wages …’
‘Oh, but you can’t,’ Angela exclaimed. ‘I mean, isn’t that a bit drastic – surely she didn’t do anything so very terrible?’
‘I think that is for me to judge, don’t you? Please do not interfere in what does not concern you. I am the Warden here and it is my decision that Alice should leave. She hit a child and shook him. If I hadn’t arrived she was going to hit him again. I will not tolerate girls who lose their temper and take it out on the children. Physical chastisement is to be restricted to the minimum. I am perfectly prepared to deal with troublesome boys myself, and all she had to do was report the incident to me.’
‘Yes, but she didn’t hit him hard, and her family need her wages …’ Angela saw the flash of anger in Sister Beatrice’s eyes and knew she’d made things worse. Of course Sister was right; Angela had no authority as far as the staff were concerned. Even though she’d been asked to bring the home into line with modern thinking that didn’t mean she could interfere with the Warden’s day-to-day running of St Saviour’s. ‘Forgive me. It’s not my place … I know she ought not to have slapped him, but – please, can’t you give the girl another chance? Make it clear that she is never to hit a child? She was crying in the garden … and we have difficulty in recruiting hard-working girls as it is.’
‘If there is one thing I will not tolerate it is bullying,’ Sister Beatrice said sharply. ‘You have no idea what you are asking, Angela. Allow a bully to get away with it and they do it again, and if you threaten and do nothing they get worse and worse.’ She frowned and shook her head as if a memory had intruded. ‘Please bring me that wage sheet.’
‘Yes, Sister. I’ll find the file for you,’ Angela said and sat staring at the door as it closed with a snap behind the woman. She had spoken out of turn and Sister had every right to be angry – and poor Alice would bear the brunt of it.
She got up and went over to the metal file, looking through the drawers for Alice’s details. The girl was one of a large family, and by the looks of things they didn’t have much money. Alice’s wage would be a big loss to them, but there was nothing more that Angela could do; in fact if she said anything more she would only make things worse.
She placed the wage sheet on top of the other pages in the file and took it to Sister’s office. Sister didn’t look at her, merely indicating that she should leave it on the desk. Angela hesitated, but the stony expression on the Warden’s face made her leave without another word. Really, the woman had no need to be so intolerant! Alice was in the wrong, but everyone deserved a second chance – didn’t they? Alice didn’t strike her as being a bully. Yet she couldn’t do more than she had already; it was up to the Warden to decide Alice’s fate.
Beatrice sat at her desk, the file open before her. She frowned, because it did not make for easy reading. Alice came from a difficult background. No one knew better than she did that the girl would have difficulty in finding work if she were sacked from St Saviour’s – but what else could she do?
A deep sigh escaped Beatrice. What was best for everyone? Alice had worked hard to secure her place here, and she was well aware how diligent she was – but she had a temper. Now and then she lost it and that frightened Beatrice. Supposing she really lost her head and hurt a child, badly? How could Beatrice live with herself then?
Squaring her shoulders, she wrote down the sum of money that she must pay Alice to sever her service here, and then took the key from her belt and unlocked her drawer, taking out a large cash box. Beatrice counted out the notes and then added another pound. It distressed her to know that she would be condemning a girl who had shown promise to a life of drudgery, because that was all Alice would find after this, but she really had no choice. Or was she being too harsh because of memories that were best forgotten?
Should she give the girl one more chance? Hearing a knock at the door, she invited Alice to enter. The scared look on the girl’s face made her cover the money she’d placed on her desk. ‘Come in, Alice,’ she said, trying not to sound too harsh. ‘I think you know what I have to say to you …’
‘I’m sorry, Sister,’ Alice mumbled, her eyes red with crying. ‘I wouldn’t have hurt him. It’s just that boys like that need a bit of discipline or they run rings round you.’ She drew a deep sobbing breath, then, ‘Please, Sister. Will you give me another chance? I shan’t get another job like this and I really love what I do … and me ma will kill me … I didn’t mean to hurt him. I wouldn’t never do that.’
Beatrice sat for a moment, her thoughts sombre. Perhaps it was too harsh to dismiss her. Beatrice’s calling taught her to be merciful and just this once she would allow herself to relent; but there would not be a second chance.
‘Very well, I shall not be hard this time. I am aware that Billy Baggins is a cheeky and undisciplined lad, but I prefer that you refer him to me for punishment in future. Do you understand me? This is your last chance, Alice. If it happens again, I shall dismiss you without a reference. Just remember that I gave you a chance to better yourself when I took you on here. Such chances do not come often – and there are hundreds of girls in Spitalfields and Bethnal Green alone who would jump at the opportunity you’ve been given. Do not let me down or you may end up in trouble, like many other girls in your situation.’
‘You’re not sacking me?’ Alice stared at her, seeming unable to believe in her reprieve. ‘Oh, thank you, Sister. I’m truly sorry for what I did and I won’t do it again, I promise.’
‘Very well, I shall take your word that you have learned your lesson. Self-discipline is important, Alice, particularly when working with children. Remember that, please. You may go now. I think you’ve finished your duty for today?’
‘Yes, Sister, but I don’t mind staying on if there’s something you need me to do.’
‘Nothing, thank you. Just get off home to your family.’
‘Thank you so much,’ Alice said and went out quickly as if she were afraid that the Warden would change her mind.
Beatrice smiled wryly. She wasn’t sure what had changed her mind … except that both Angela and Billy himself had stood up for the girl. Oh, well, perhaps everyone deserved a second chance in life – but next time she would not be so lenient.
ELEVEN
Alice splashed her face in cold water in the cloakroom before leaving St Saviour’s. She didn’t want Ma to know she’d nearly been sacked, because her mother would take on something awful; she would probably give Alice a good slapping for getting into trouble.
Satisfied that she didn’t look too bad, Alice walked swiftly away from her place of work. Now that she’d got over her fear of losing her job, she let her thoughts drift to the dance she’d gone to with Michelle and Sally. She’d been partnered by her cousin Eric a couple of times, but most of the time she’d sat talking to his friend. Bob was a quiet bloke and she’d found it difficult to find a topic he was interested in at first. He wasn’t much of a mover on the floor, though he tried the easy ones like the barn dance, but he was clumsy in the waltz and he simply couldn’t do the foxtrot or the quickstep, one of Alice’s favourites.
‘I’m not much company, am I?’ he’d said when he brought her a second lemonade shandy. ‘If you want to go off and dance with another fella I shan’t mind.’
‘No, there’s no one else here I want to dance with,’ Alice said, wishing she could think of something to interest him. ‘What do you do when you’re not in the Army, then?’
‘I was a gas fitter; it was a protected job during the war,’ Bob told her. ‘I got the push when the blokes senior to me came back from fighting. They was promised their jobs, see, so I got downgraded. I decided to sign up for the Army myself – and they’ve trained me to be a mechanic.’
‘Do you like it?’
Bob shrugged. ‘It’s all right – steady job anyway.’
Almos
t in despair, Alice had tried again. ‘What do you like doing in your spare time?’
‘You don’t want to hear that …’
‘Yes, I do,’ Alice insisted though she longed to be on the dance floor.
‘I like playing football. We’ve got a good team and we play against the other services, see. It’s a real needle match with the flyboys, because they think they’re better than anyone else.’
Alice smiled, because this was something she understood. ‘My dad supports West Ham,’ she said. ‘My brothers like Arsenal and Manchester United, because they collect cigarette cards of all the players, and they go down the road on Saturday afternoons, to listen to football on the wireless at old Mr Griggs’, the newsagent’s. He has it on in his back room and all the kids go to listen and buy a penny sherbet dip. Saul reckons Manchester United is going to win the FA Cup this year, but Joe says it will be Arsenal. We have a real ding dong in our house on a Saturday afternoon when Dad gets the Evening Standard and reads out all the results.’
Bob’s eyes had lit up then. It turned out he was on her father’s side and had been a regular West Ham supporter until he signed up for the Army life.
Alice’s eyes had wandered round the room, noticing a crowd of young women and men, one of whom was Jack Shaw. She bit down on her lip, because some of the people he was with were the wrong sort, and it brought home all her father’s warnings. He was talking to Arthur Baggins, and Alice believed he was a thief, because she’d seen the police after him down the market. Arthur was always in trouble, and if Jack hung around with him, her father was right; he was a bad lot. He always had at least two or three young girls hanging after him, and he’d got his arm round one with blonde hair now. Alice bet that colour had come out of a peroxide bottle and she frowned her disgust. Jack had spotted her looking in his direction and grinned. Alice looked away immediately.
