by Cathy Sharp
‘The policeman told me,’ Mary Ellen said over and over. ‘You won’t be in trouble if you tell what you know, Billy. None of it was your fault. You can’t stay up here much longer. You might be ill and then what would I do?’
‘You won’t tell on me?’
‘You know I shan’t,’ she promised him, although there was a look in her eyes that made Billy wonder. ‘Are you in trouble ’cos of me?’
She’d shaken her head, but he sensed that something was upsetting her. He almost made up his mind to give himself up then, but decided to wait a few more days. If he confessed to Sister she would know that Mary Ellen had been helping him and she might withdraw his friend’s privileges. He could hold out a bit longer and he would … just until the Christmas party was over …
Mary Ellen was worried about Billy, who had been sneezing and his nose looked red, as did his eyes. She had taken him some paper napkins to blow his nose on but she knew he didn’t feel well and she was torn between her loyalty to him and her fear that he might become really ill. She knew that the food she was managing to get to him wasn’t enough, but she couldn’t find a way to take more than she was already doing, because the serving girl kept giving her a peculiar look when she loaded her plate with enough for two.
They’d had plum tart with thick yellow custard for tea that afternoon. It was a favourite with Billy and Mary Ellen racked her brains for a way to take a bowl of the delicious treat to him. She dared not go for second helpings and even though she was willing to give up the pudding for his sake, it wasn’t going to be easy smuggling out a bowl of tart and custard. She wrapped it round with the paper napkins and looked over her shoulder to see if she was being watched before hurriedly sliding the dish into her bag. Her own stomach was rumbling, because she’d been giving more than half of the food she took to Billy, but his need was greater than hers.
‘What did you do that for?’ Marion asked, and Mary Ellen realised her friend had seen her hide the plum tart. ‘You should eat it now while it’s hot.’
‘It isn’t for me … Oh, I shouldn’t have told you …’
Marion stared at her, eyes opening wide. ‘I’ve seen you hide food before. You’re taking it to Billy, aren’t you?’
‘You won’t tell anyone?’
‘Sister will be so cross if she finds out …’
‘I know but I’ve got to. Billy can only come down at night and there’s no food about then.’
‘Can you get enough for both of you?’
‘No, because they watch me; I know they think I’m greedy, and Cook complained that someone had pinched some food and I don’t want them thinking it’s me.’
‘Here, take this,’ Marion said and pushed her plate across the table. ‘Give Billy my cake. I’ve had enough anyway.’
‘Thanks, Marion. If you can bring a bit extra in future it will help.’
‘But surely … he isn’t going to stay hidden forever?’
‘Of course he isn’t. I can’t explain, because I promised I wouldn’t say anything – but he’s not hiding from Sister, not really.’
Marion nodded. ‘Does Billy know you can’t come to the pantomime tomorrow because you wouldn’t tell on him?’
‘No, and I’m not going to say. He would do the same for us.’
‘Yes, he would.’ Marion looked solemn. ‘But if he stays up there any longer he’ll miss Christmas dinner and we’re havin’ a special one.’
‘I know.’ Mary Ellen sighed. ‘I keep telling him but he’s …’ She stopped, because she couldn’t reveal that Billy was frightened he might be in trouble with the police. ‘I’m going to slip away now, because this tart is better while it’s warm.’
‘All right.’ Marion’s gaze followed her anxiously as she left the dining room.
It was Marion’s anxious gaze that alerted Sally. She’d seen the hasty way Mary Ellen had left the table and, coupled with the fact that she’d noticed the girl slip a bowl of tart and custard into her cloth bag, her suspicions were fully aroused. She’d noticed the girl hiding food in her bag before, but children did sometimes take a piece of cake up to the dorm, even though they were not supposed to because crumbs could attract mice. A bowl of tart and custard was different, because it could spill all over and was better eaten warm. Most of the children devoured their share before eating their bread and butter and Mary Ellen was usually the same. Sally knew that both she and Billy Baggins loved plum tart and custard …
Of course! It was obvious that the child was helping him to hide somewhere in the home. The police had looked for him without success but if he was here at St Saviour’s they wouldn’t have a hope of finding him on the streets – but where? Neither Sally nor Angela could find the lad. But Mary Ellen knew where he was.
Leaving the dining room hurriedly, Sally was in time to catch sight of the girl disappearing up the stairs at the far end of the hall. Those back stairs had once led to the warders’ rooms when it had been a fever hospital in the bad old days, and were still used as a shortcut to the sick wards, but Sally had thought the attic rooms were boarded up. The children must have found a way in that no one else knew of.
Walking swiftly after Mary Ellen, she wondered what she ought to do if she discovered their secret. Could she persuade them to give up this masquerade or was it her duty to go to Sister Beatrice? She was torn between catching the guilty pair and forcing them to confess their secret and waiting to see whether they would decide to come clean themselves. It would be a betrayal of the children’s trust if she told Sister Beatrice and yet it was her duty to let someone know where Billy was hiding.
As she reached the landing, there was no sign of Mary Ellen. She had simply disappeared, but Sally had followed her too quickly for her to go far. Where had she disappeared to?
There were three doors along this landing. One led to the dormitories and was used by the carers in the mornings, the other to a short flight of stairs leading down to Sister’s office, the sick ward and the isolation ward. The third door had always been kept locked. Sally tried the handle and discovered that it turned easily. Opening it cautiously, she saw there was another set of stairs, narrow and dark, the walls hung with cobwebs, as if they hadn’t been used in years – but there were quite clearly footprints in the dust: a child’s footprints.
Sally had known there was a staircase up to the old attic rooms, but she believed it had been boarded over at the top. Obviously, Billy had somehow gained access to the staircase – but how could he get into the attics themselves if they were boarded up?
Should Sally go up and investigate? She hesitated, then started up the stairs, taking care to tread softly. It was very dark but with the door at the bottom left open, there was just enough light to see that the stairs ended abruptly with what looked like a solid panel of wood. How could the children get past that? She wondered about it and then touched it experimentally, jumping as it swung back at the bottom, revealing a dark space. So the panel had not been secured properly – or had Billy somehow managed to force it? She imagined it was he that had discovered the way in, for Mary Ellen would not come exploring here alone.
Sally got down on her knees and peered through, unable to see much at first until her eyes became accustomed to the dark, but then she heard voices and turned her head towards the sound; as she did so, she realised that there was just a flicker of light under a door. Billy or Mary Ellen must have a small torch – or worse, a candle. A candle up here could be dangerous, because the wood was so old and dry that a fire could start in an instant.
To burst in on them now might startle them and in the dark an accident could happen. Sally decided that it would be better to go back downstairs, find Angela and come back with a torch. There might even be an electric light, but she didn’t want to go stumbling about up here in the dark in case she or the children were injured.
Creeping back down the stairs, her pulse was racing because she was anxious to sort this out without Sister Beatrice discovering what they were doing. Once she ha
d the children safely back in the house, she and Angela together would sort out what was the best thing to do.
Sally just hoped that Angela would be in her office and alone.
Knocking at the door, she found Angela working at her desk on what looked like some accounts. She looked up and smiled a welcome.
‘Sally, it’s lovely to see you. Is something wrong?’
‘I’ve found Billy,’ Sally said and put a finger to her lips as Angela rose quickly to her feet. ‘Do you have a torch? He is in the attic and it is very dark. Only, I don’t want Sister to know yet …’
Angela nodded. She opened the drawer at the top of her desk and took out a good-sized torch. ‘I use it for crossing the garden late at night, because it can be dark outside the Nurses’ Home.’
‘We need to go quickly,’ Sally urged. ‘If Mary Ellen locks the door we shall have to make her give the key up.’ Angela looked puzzled and Sally explained about the old attics and how everyone believed they were securely boarded up.
‘I didn’t even know they were there. I never use the back stairs, only the main staircase or the lift.’
‘We carers sometimes use the back stairs as a shortcut in the mornings, but when I first came here that door was always locked. I think Billy must have found the key somewhere. I have no idea where it was kept. At the top of the stairs there’s a solid panel but it moves to one side. Whether the work was never finished off or whether Billy managed to work it loose I don’t know …’
‘How long has he been there? Not since he first disappeared?’
‘No, I don’t think so, probably only a few days. I noticed Mary Ellen piling her plate rather high a couple of days back, and today at tea I saw her putting food in her schoolbag.’
‘She has been taking him food?’
‘Yes, of course. Billy wouldn’t be able to get any otherwise. Cook is keeping the pantry locked at night so that the Christmas food doesn’t get stolen. She thinks one of the new carers might have taken some food she was saving for Christmas Day.’
‘Surely it would more likely be one of the children?’
‘Some of the girls come from poor homes and have families to feed. I can understand the temptation to take a few tarts or something. I’ve been tempted myself since Dad went on short time, but he’d be furious if I did anything like that.’
‘Oh, Sally,’ Angela said. ‘Why didn’t you tell me? If you need money I might be able to help …’
Sally shook her head, putting a finger to her lips. She tried the door to the attic stairs and found it open. ‘Shine your light on the stairs until we get up there. It was too dark inside without a torch and I didn’t want to fall over something and frighten them – they will think they’re in trouble as it is and may panic.’
She showed Angela how the seemingly solid panel swung back at the bottom. The narrow gap would be easy for children to squeeze past but Sally needed Angela to hold it while she wiggled through, and once inside the aperture, she held it up for her colleague to follow.
The torch showed that they could stand upright and look about them. At some time, the attics had been used as sleeping quarters and were divided by wooden partitions. Old mattresses still lay on the floors and there was a Victorian chest of drawers and some broken wooden chairs lying on their sides, abandoned, also commodes and washstands with their china basins still intact.
At the sound of some scuffling, they guessed the children had heard them coming. The faint light showing under a door had gone out as Billy and Mary Ellen tried to hide their presence, but this was the only way out and they were caught. Pushing open the dividing door, Sally shone her light and saw the guilty pair huddling together and looking scared in the yellow beam.
‘Thank goodness you’re safe,’ Angela said. ‘Do you think there’s a light switch up here? Have you got a torch, Billy?’
‘No, miss, I just brought an oil lamp. I found it in the cellar and it still works.’
‘That is very dangerous,’ Sally said. ‘You might have set the house on fire, Billy.’
‘No, miss. I was very careful, I promise. I wouldn’t set you alight in your beds.’
‘His brother threatened to,’ Mary Ellen burst out. ‘That’s why he had to go with him. Tell them, Billy. Tell Sally why you ran off. Arthur made you do it. And tell them how you saw the fire start at the factory and went in to warn them and got trapped yourself for hours.’
‘Is that all true?’ Angela asked.
‘Yes, miss. He made me help him, because he hit me – and I was scared he would kill all of you in a fire.’
‘Well, you can’t stay up here,’ Sally said. ‘You’ve got to come down and let us help you, Billy. Angela will talk to Sister. You won’t be in trouble if you explain why you went off – and tell the police what you know.’
‘If I come she’ll know Mary Ellen ’elped me and she’ll be in trouble. Sister will stop her goin’ to the pantomime and the party …’
‘I’ve already been stopped going to the pantomime,’ Mary Ellen said. ‘You’ve got to come down now, Billy. He’s got a cold, miss, and he’s hungry.’
‘Yes, I expect it has been very uncomfortable up here for you,’ Sally said. ‘Come with me, Billy. I’m going to put you in the isolation ward for tonight – and I’ll bring you some hot cocoa and a ham sandwich in bed.’
‘You didn’t tell me you was in trouble wiv Sister over me.’ Billy stared at Mary Ellen.
‘It was ’cos the policeman asked if I’d seen you and I said no – and Sister knew I was lying. She wanted me to tell and I wouldn’t so I can’t go tomorrow …’
‘Rotten old witch,’ he muttered.
‘Now, Billy, that is enough,’ Sally said. ‘I’m going to take care of you – and Angela will talk to Sister about you. She’ll ask her if Mary Ellen can go to the pantomime after all, seeing as you had a good reason to run off.’
Angela added her mite. ‘We must go down. You cannot stay up here, Billy. It’s freezing cold. You could die of pneumonia, and we don’t want that – think of Mary Ellen and Marion. They are your friends and it would upset them. You owe it to them to come down and let us look after you.’
Billy muttered something rude, but gave in. Angela looked round for the oil lamp and picked it up.
‘It’s out, honest, miss.’
‘Yes, but I think we’ll make sure and put it back in the cellar where it belongs. You wouldn’t want to cause a fire, now would you?’
‘No, miss. It upset me when Arthur said he’d burn you all in your beds.’
‘The police are looking for your brother. They are bound to find him sooner or later – and you could probably help them if you wished.’
‘I ain’t a snitch, miss. He’s a bully and I hate him, but I ain’t never been a snitch.’
‘If you tell the police what happened, they will see he goes to prison for a long time. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?’
‘He’s me brother, miss. Sometimes I ’ate him for what he does, but he were all right when we were little … it were only after Ma died that he went bad …’
‘Yes, I understand that, Billy – but you don’t want him to hurt your friends, do you?’
He shook his head, but she sensed that he had conflicting emotions about the prospect of telling the police about his brother. It could never be easy to inform on family, but in this case she hoped he would realise it was necessary.
Angela shone the torch for them all to squeeze through the hole. It was even darker now for there was no light even from the passage below.
When they were all safely down the dark stairs, Angela switched the hall light on. Sally looked at Billy and exclaimed in dismay as she saw his condition. He had a blanket over his shoulders, but his face was streaked with dirt, as were his hands and legs.
‘You look as if you haven’t washed in weeks.’
‘I ain’t, miss. Me brother lived in bombed-out houses and there weren’t no water to wash – and me hand hurts where I burned
it. I’ve been in the attic for five days I reckon and I daren’t wash in case I got caught.’
‘Right, it’s in the bath with you and then I’ll bind your hand for you,’ Sally said and, taking hold of his arm, marched him off through the end door towards the isolation ward.
Mary Ellen looked at Angela fearfully. ‘Do you think Sister will be angry with Billy?’
‘I expect she’ll be cross, don’t you? He should have gone to her instead of running off and then hiding in the attics. Don’t worry, I’ll do what I can to explain – and I’ll see if she will change her mind and let you go to the pantomime. Run off to your dormitory now and do whatever you’re supposed to do at this hour.’
Mary Ellen cast her a woebegone look and then ran off through the door that led up to the dorms. Angela sighed and followed in Sally’s footsteps. She wasn’t looking forward to the interview with Sister Beatrice, because she suspected that the Warden was going to be very angry indeed.
THIRTY-TWO
‘Where are they now?’ Sister Beatrice asked when Angela had finished her lengthy explanation. ‘I trust you removed the oil lamp?’
‘Yes, of course, but it was out. Billy is quite responsible and I truly believe he would never harm anyone here at St Saviour’s.’
‘That is beside the point. He was reckless and thoughtless and I am not sure we can keep him here after this.’
‘Surely his behaviour is understandable? His brother is a bully and a rogue. Billy was afraid of him. He still has bruises on his face where Arthur hit him, and a couple of small burns from being trapped in that fire. He is lucky to be alive, and I’m inclined to think him a bit of a hero. Sally is giving him a bath and putting him to bed in the isolation ward for the night. I expect he is hungry – and he has a nasty cold.’
