Forgotten Children

by Cathy Sharp

  ‘No, it was definitely deliberate. Do you think the caretaker had something to do with it?’

  ‘He says he went out into the yard to investigate a noise and was hit over the head. It was him that raised the alarm so quick – said he came to himself when the door to the office went up with a whoosh. In my opinion it has to be an arson attack. Someone had it in for the folk at the boot factory.’

  ‘He can thank God he was knocked cold outside in the yard,’ the first voice said and then someone else chimed in, ‘He thought he saw a face at the office window just before the whole thing went up. Thieves, do you reckon?’

  ‘We shan’t know that until we can make a thorough search of the place. It should be cool enough soon. Whatever happened, the poor devil caught upstairs didn’t stand a chance. If the explosion didn’t kill him the fire would have.’

  ‘He couldn’t have known much about it after that blast …’

  The voices moved away and Billy shuddered. If the caretaker was still alive, who had been lying dead at the bottom of the stairs? Had there been someone else in the building when Arthur and Jack broke in – and why had they killed him?

  Billy reckoned it must have been Jack who was caught in the blast, though whether it was from the fire or the explosive he’d set Billy couldn’t guess. He was pretty sure Arthur had escaped, though he might have suffered a few burns.

  He listened for a while longer, straining to hear voices, but it seemed to be quiet up top. Billy had come to a decision. He wasn’t going to get out this way, so the only alternative was back up to the store room and out through what had been the office doorway. The men had said the fire was out so he thought it was time he took a risk and tried to make a move.

  It was lighter in the cellar now and as he climbed the stairs the stink of the smoke grew worse and he felt it choking him. He took off his jacket and put it over his face and nose, leaving just enough space to see where he was going. His heart sank as he saw the grating had fallen back across the opening and for a second he panicked; he was going to die in here!

  Taking a deep choking breath to steady his nerves, Billy grabbed the grating and pushed hard. To his relief it swung back but the metal was hot and he felt it burn his hands. He yelped with pain but it added to his determination to get out of here and he scrambled out of the opening into the store room. It was lighter in here now and he saw the fire had been kept back as the door had not collapsed, although the paint had blistered and the smoke that penetrated underneath had covered everything in a fine dust and made the air almost too thick to breathe.

  Billy made a run for the door, but stopped as he noticed the metal handle. Doubling his jacket over, he took hold of the handle and pressed. It yielded and he yanked the door back, half-stumbling into what had been the passageway. For a moment the stink of burning was almost too much for him and he choked, spluttering as it grabbed at his throat. Everywhere was black and as he steadied himself, he became aware that piles of debris were still smouldering between puddles of water, and he had to watch where he stepped. Avoiding the smouldering rubbish, he squelched through the water, which soaked into his boots. Looking up, he saw that at the end of the hall there was a gaping void; the stairs had gone and there was a huge hole in the roof. Billy ran, feeling the heat through the soles of his boots as he stepped on ashes that were still hot and in some cases still glowed red where he kicked them. A part of the roof had been clinging precariously to burned-through struts and a large section came crashing down just ahead of him.

  Billy yelled and ran for it, just making it to the hole in the wall where the door had once been, and staggered out into the yard before everything inside collapsed and everywhere was showered with sparks and debris; he gasped for air as a load of smouldering wood fell where he’d been standing moments ago. His lungs felt as if they would burst and he stood gasping for air as he tried to think what to do next.

  ‘Here, you, nipper!’ a man’s voice yelled and Billy saw one of the firemen waving his fist at him. ‘Get away from there, you idiot. It’s still dangerous; the fire isn’t out completely yet.’

  Billy saw that a policeman had turned to look at him. ‘What are you doing here, lad?’ he called. ‘How did you get in here?’

  Billy didn’t wait to answer. They knew the factory had been set on fire deliberately and he could guess who would get the blame. Billy thought he knew the real culprit, but even if he told the police they wouldn’t believe him – and if they did and they went to arrest the Butcher, Billy would be dead meat. If the gang discovered he’d snitched on them, he would be murdered.

  Billy started to run. His only chance was to get away before they recognised him and took him down the station.

  ‘Come back, lad. I want to talk to you!’

  Billy ignored the policeman’s voice and kept running. He knew what he had to do now. For the moment he was going to lie low and hope that the coppers wouldn’t know who he was. Arthur must surely be running scared. His brother was caught between a rock and a hard place. If he stayed in London, either the coppers or Butcher Lee would find him and in both cases he was in trouble.

  Billy had to find somewhere to hide until tonight and then he was going to creep into St Saviour’s and somehow get hold of Mary Ellen. He knew where he could hide for a while, just until it was safe to come out …

  THIRTY

  On Saturday morning Mary Ellen ate her breakfast with Marion. She’d been on thorns all the previous day and had found it difficult to sleep again. Her guilty conscience was torturing her, because although she’d managed to run down to the damaged boot factory she hadn’t been able to get near; the police had it cordoned off and they were ordering anyone who tried to get close enough for a good look to keep clear. Its walls were blackened and there were great holes in the roof where the fire had destroyed it. If Billy had been caught in there, it didn’t bear thinking about and she shuddered in fear for him.

  On her return, she’d asked Sally and Alice for news but all the carers told her was that Julia’s father was all right and the police thought the dead man was a burglar who had been committing a series of robberies in the area.

  If Billy didn’t come today Mary Ellen was going to have to tell someone that she was afraid he’d been caught in that fire, but if she did that he would be in such trouble and then even if he was all right, Sister Beatrice would send him away.

  ‘Are you all right?’ Marion asked. ‘You look as if you want to cry.’

  ‘I’m worried about Billy,’ Mary Ellen admitted. ‘I keep thinking he may be hurt.’

  ‘He’s going to miss all the Christmas treats if he doesn’t come back,’ Marion said. ‘And I’ve got him a present – have you?’

  ‘Not yet …’

  Mary Ellen received three pennies in pocket money each week, which Rose had left with Sister Beatrice for her. Rose had been to see her once at the beginning and she’d given her a shilling for herself. Mary Ellen hadn’t spent any of that shilling and she’d saved most of her pocket money, because living at St Saviour’s she never needed to buy anything. The children were given cakes and nice things to eat, and on Saturdays each of them was allowed two boiled sweets from a jar. Mary Ellen had never had much money to spend on sweets and the two she was given were enough for her so she’d saved her money, and she’d been planning to buy Billy a school scarf so that he would keep warm on his way to classes, but now he wouldn’t be here for Christmas.

  She’d already purchased a box with some coloured crayons for Marion, six sugar mice to give to the other girls in her dormitory and a bar of fancy soap that smelled of roses for her sister. Rose had told her she would come to visit before Christmas but Mary Ellen wasn’t sure when that would be; she just hoped it wasn’t on the day they were going to the pantomime, because she didn’t want to miss that – whatever else she missed. She’d hoped Billy would be taken too, but now he wasn’t here. She had other friends at St Saviour’s but none as close as Billy.

  ‘I bought him a
magazine about football,’ Marion said and rubbed at her eyes to brush away her tears. ‘I’m worried about him too.’

  ‘It’s so cold out now – and I’m sure he has nowhere to sleep. I should think he’s hungry and miserable.’

  Marion looked sympathetic. ‘We could look for him tomorrow, ’cos it’s Saturday. Perhaps you could push my chair … I can’t manage my crutches outside yet, but I shall soon.’

  ‘Sister wouldn’t let me push your chair. Remember what happened last time? Besides, Billy wouldn’t be anywhere near here … would he?’

  ‘He might come back if he was cold and hungry.’

  ‘Yes.’ Mary Ellen looked at her hopefully. ‘I wish he would.’

  ‘Sally is coming to take me back upstairs. You’d better get ready to help her with the little ones when she comes down.’

  ‘Yes, I suppose so,’ Mary Ellen said and sighed. ‘I’d better go and get my books. I left them in the schoolroom last night, because I wanted to do my homework there … it reminds me of being there with Billy.’

  Sally had arrived to take Marion’s chair and Mary Ellen got to her feet. She heard Sally telling the other girl that Mr Markham was coming that morning to tell them some stories and was glad it was a Saturday. She liked Mr Markham and it had been fun that morning she’d helped Billy with his spelling.

  She ran upstairs to the empty schoolroom. Collecting the books she’d used the previous evening, Mary Ellen slipped them into a little cloth bag that she’d made in needlework class for the purpose. It had a drawstring and she could loop it over her shoulder.

  ‘Psst …’ Mary Ellen heard the odd sound and looked round, wondering what it was, and then she heard it again and recognised the voice. ‘Mary Ellen …’

  ‘Billy – is it you?’ Her heart was racing as she spun round. The door to the big cupboard where Sally stored toys and books was slightly ajar. She ran towards it and pulled it open, to find him crouching in the bottom. ‘Where did you come from? Where have you been? I was so worried because I thought you might be hurt in the fire. I almost told Angela but I knew you wouldn’t want me to …’

  ‘I got in last night through the back scullery window. I’m going to hide up in that attic store room we found – remember?’ Billy was always exploring the cellar and the attics once he’d found the key, and he’d taken Mary Ellen with him a couple of times.

  ‘Why do you have to hide? I think Sister would be all right if you told her why you ran away.’

  ‘I daren’t. I was at the factory when it was firebombed and I saw it happen,’ Billy told her. ‘I got trapped inside when I warned Arthur and couldn’t get out so I crawled in the airey and tried to get out that way but the grating into the yard was rusted in the ground.’

  ‘You might have died.’ Mary Ellen’s breath caught on a sob.

  ‘I thought I was going to for a while. I shouted but no one heard me and then I couldn’t shout no more, because me throat hurt. So I waited until the fire was out and then I went back up. It was all black and the air was enough to choke yer; there was a hole in the roof and the stairs to the office where the safe was had gone …’

  ‘A man was found dead at the factory …’

  ‘That could be Jack Shaw.’ Billy nodded, but he didn’t tell her about the body he’d seen lying at the foot of the stairs, because it was murder and might give her nightmares. ‘I went in to warn them of the fire and Arthur ran out through the flames, but his mate wanted the money and wouldn’t leave so he might have been killed. I reckon Arthur must have got some burns … I burned me hand getting out the morning after ’cos it was still hot.’

  ‘You should tell the police what happened.’

  ‘I ain’t sure what happened to Jack, see. If I told they would go after me brother – and if they believed me about who started the fire and why, they’d arrest the Butcher Lee gang and then they’d have me killed. Even in prison they could do it …’

  ‘Oh, Billy, don’t say it.’ Mary Ellen felt scared. ‘We should tell someone.’

  ‘No, not yet; I’ve got ter lay low fer a bit, just until it’s safe. If I say what I know Sister Beatrice will tell the police – and then I’m done for.’

  ‘What are you going to do?’ Mary Ellen looked at him anxiously. He was in such terrible trouble and she didn’t know how to help him.

  ‘Stay hidden in the attics fer a bit – if you’ll bring me food and somethin’ to drink, Mary Ellen?’

  ‘Of course I will,’ she said loyally. ‘Go up there now before Sally comes. Be careful because if anyone sees you they will tell Sister Beatrice.’

  ‘No one saw us before. I can sneak up the back way like we did last time. Them old stairs ain’t ever used these days – but I’m ’ungry. Me belly’s rumblin’. I went lookin’ fer somethin’ last night but I couldn’t get in the pantry ’cos it was locked, but I did have a glass of water.’

  ‘That’s ’cos Cook has been making cakes and special sweets and stuff ready for Christmas and she thinks someone got in and stole some the other day so she keeps it locked at night.’

  ‘Can you get me somethin’ now?’

  ‘I’ll go back to the dining room and see if I can find anything,’ Mary Ellen said. ‘I’ll bring it up to the attic as quick as I can.’

  ‘I knew you wouldn’t let me down,’ he said. ‘You’re a true friend, Mary Ellen. See if you can find a bit of grease and a hanky to bandage me hand; I burned it on the grating, but it ain’t too bad ’cos it weren’t scorching.’

  ‘I’ll find food for you,’ she promised. ‘And I’ll smuggle something out every time we have a meal. We’ll manage, Billy – but I think you should tell someone what a wicked man Arthur is. And what you saw at the fire.’

  ‘I will but not just yet,’ Billy promised. ‘Sister Beatrice won’t believe me. She’ll think I’ve made it up just to get out of a caning.’

  ‘She might listen,’ Mary Ellen said. ‘Angela or Sally would know what to do. I must hurry or I’ll be late – but I’ll come to you as soon as I can, I promise.’

  Picking up her bag she walked quickly back to the dining room. Most of the food had been cleared away, but there was one hard-boiled egg left in a dish and two slices of bread and marge. Snatching them up, she wrapped them in her handkerchief and shoved them in her cloth bag just as one of the kitchen staff came back into the room to finish clearing.

  ‘Did you want something, Mary Ellen?’

  ‘No, miss. I just came back for my book,’ Mary Ellen lied, feeling hot all over because she didn’t like to tell fibs. ‘I’m going now.’

  There was no way she could find anything for Billy to drink yet, but she would go out later and buy him a big bottle of lemonade and then when it was empty she could fill it with orange squash or water. For now all she could do was take him the food she’d found, and then she would have to run because Sally was expecting her to help with the little ones.

  Mary Ellen stopped to purchase a bottle of orange squash on her way home the following Monday. She left it in the cloakroom and went into tea, but just as she had loaded her plate with enough for two hungry children, Angela came up to her.

  ‘Ah, here you are, Mary Ellen. Sister Beatrice asked me to find you and take you to her office immediately.’

  ‘But I’ve just got my tea, miss.’

  ‘Leave the plate with Marion,’ Angela suggested. ‘She will look after it for you and see that no one eats it, won’t you, Marion?’

  ‘Yes, miss. I’ll wait until you get back, Mary Ellen.’

  ‘All right, thanks.’ Mary Ellen thought of Billy waiting. She hadn’t been able to get anything much for him at lunch, because there was nothing she could wrap in her handkerchief, other than an apple and that was already in her bag with the squash. He must be so hungry!

  Worrying about her friend took the fear out of the visit to Sister’s office. She sensed from Angela’s manner that it was important, but she just hoped it wasn’t that Billy’s presence in the house had been d
iscovered.

  When Angela knocked and then led the way into Sister’s office, Mary Ellen’s stomach curled in fright as she saw the burly policeman standing by the window. He looked serious and so did Sister Beatrice and Mary Ellen’s mouth was suddenly very dry. If the police were here, Billy must be in trouble.

  ‘Ah, there you are, Mary Ellen,’ Sister said, looking at her in a way that made her tremble inside, though she lifted her head defiantly, determined not to show her fear. ‘I am glad Angela was able to find you, because this police constable wants to ask you some questions.’

  ‘Yes, Sister.’ Mary Ellen waited, nerves tingling, because she must be careful not to betray Billy.

  ‘Sister Beatrice tells me that you are Billy Baggins’ friend – is that so, miss?’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ she replied in a small voice. ‘He’s always been my friend.’

  ‘Did he say anything to you about why he was going away before he left?’

  ‘No, sir.’ Mary Ellen crossed her fingers behind her back as she lied. ‘He was upset about something but he wouldn’t tell me what was wrong.’

  ‘Did he seem nervous or bothered at all?’

  She hesitated, then inclined her head, ‘Yes, sir. I thought he was frightened – but not of getting a caning from Sister.’

  The police constable glanced at Sister Beatrice, a grim smile on his lips. ‘It’s as I thought; the brother came for him and forced him to go with him. He was their lookout while they burgled people’s houses. The boy was seen running away from the boot factory some hours after they put the fire out. He may know what happened, especially if was watching out for his brother.’

  Mary Ellen wanted to shout out about Billy being forced to help his brother and seeing the man who had deliberately set fire to the factory, but if she betrayed her knowledge of that night, they would make her tell them where he was. She set her mouth, her stomach churning as the policeman turned to her again.