No Ocean Too Wide

by Carrie Turansky

  When the door closed, Miss Langdon looked up at Laura. “I’m sorry about that,” she said in a hushed voice. “I hope you’re here for an interview and not a visit.”

  Laura’s mind spun as she stepped up to the desk. It seemed she would have to take a different tack if she was going to learn anything about her siblings. “Yes, I’d like to interview for…one of the positions.”

  Miss Langdon offered a slight smile. “That’s a relief.”

  Laura forced a smile in return. “Could you tell me a little about the positions?”

  “Of course. We have two openings. One is for the head laundress, and the other is for an escort to accompany the girls emigrating to Canada.”

  Laura’s nerves tingled. “And what exactly are the responsibilities of an escort?”

  “They work with the girls here at the home and help them prepare for the trip. Then they escort them on the sea voyage. When they arrive in Canada, they travel by train to the receiving home, where the girls are transferred into the care of our workers there. Some stay on for a time until the girls are all settled, and others return right away to help the next group preparing at Hughes.”

  “Only girls?”

  “Yes, we don’t have boys here. They’re all housed at Mifflin Hall.”

  Laura nodded, tucking that information away for later. “How many girls travel together?”

  “Most of our groups have about sixty girls. Three or four groups go out in the spring and three or four more in the early fall. The next group is leaving on May 13.”

  Laura tensed. Were her sisters assigned to that group? If she was hired as an escort, she could find out, then see what could be done to remedy the situation. This might be just the answer she needed. Laura glanced toward the matron’s closed door.

  Miss Langdon leaned forward and motioned Laura closer. “Miss Williams is strict. But you’ll do all right if you mind your manners and speak only when you’re spoken to.”

  Laura nodded. “Thank you.”

  Miss Langdon pointed toward the chairs. “You can go ahead and sit down. It won’t be too long.”

  Laura crossed the room and took a seat.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I forgot to ask your name.”

  Laura stilled. If she used her real name, they might become suspicious when she started asking questions about her sisters. “My name is…Mary Hopkins.” The lie slipped out before she even had time to think it through. Mary was her middle name, and Hopkins was her mother’s maiden name, so it wasn’t really too far from the truth.

  Miss Langdon jotted it down.

  Laura tried to stifle her guilty feelings, but it wasn’t easy. Her parents had taught her to always tell the truth. But what would they say in this situation? What had happened to her family was unfair, and those in charge had refused to listen. She had to protect her siblings, and if using a false name was the only way to save them from going to Canada, then she would lie to the king himself. She had no other choice.

  The door to the inner office opened, and the woman who had finished her interview walked out. She wore a slight smile and nodded to Miss Langdon as she passed. It looked as though her meeting with the matron had gone well. Which position had she been offered?

  The matron appeared in her office doorway and glanced at her assistant.

  Miss Langdon looked up. “This is Miss Mary Hopkins. She’s here to interview for a position.”

  Miss Williams scanned Laura from head to toe, looking none too pleased. “You may come in.”

  Laura rose and walked into the office, her knees feeling a bit shaky.

  Miss Williams motioned to a chair facing her desk, and Laura sat down.

  “You look too young to be applying for a position here. How old are you?”

  “I’m twenty-one, ma’am.” Remembering what Miss Langdon had said, she waited for the next question rather than adding more to her answer.

  “Do you have any experience?”

  “I’ve been in service for the last two years, first as a house maid in London and the last few months as a lady’s maid for the Frasier family of the Bolton Estate near St. Albans.”

  Miss Williams’s forehead creased. “Hughes is a children’s home for waifs and strays. We receive children from all over England and prepare them for emigration to Canada. Do you have any experience working with children?”

  “Yes ma’am. I am the oldest of six. I helped my mother care for all of them.” She didn’t add that two of them had died shortly after birth. That was a private matter.

  “May I see your references?”

  Laura froze, her throat going dry. How would she explain she had none? “I can give you the name and address of our clergyman in London, Reverend Samuel Bush. I’m sure he would be happy to give me a recommendation. But I didn’t bring any letters of reference.”

  Miss Williams sniffed. “How do you expect me to make a decision about your character and work habits without any letters of reference?”

  Laura pulled in a deep breath. “I’m sorry. My mother has been ill, and I left my position in St. Albans a few weeks ago to go to London and care for her.”

  Miss Williams arched her eyebrows. “But now you’ve come to Liverpool?”

  “Yes ma’am. My mother is improving, and I’m staying with a friend here.” At least she hoped Mrs. Graham’s cousin would allow her to stay. Oh, how had she gotten in such deep water so quickly? One lie just seemed to lead to the next.

  Miss Williams stared toward the window for a moment, then looked back at Laura. “We usually send at least two escorts to oversee each group of girls going to Canada. One of our experienced escorts fell and broke her ankle earlier this week. She’s unable to walk, and we have fifty-some girls traveling to Quebec City and then on to Kingston and Belleville, Ontario, on the thirteenth. I need to find another escort.”

  Laura shifted on her chair, her stomach churning. Should she just tell the truth and risk being thrown out, or should she continue her ruse to help her sisters escape from Hughes before they were sent across the sea?

  She could see no other way to protect her sisters. “I would like the opportunity to care for the children.”

  “You’ve no qualms about sailing with the group?”

  “I’m willing to do whatever is needed.” That wasn’t a direct answer, but it was true.

  Miss Williams studied her, still looking unconvinced. “I’m very selective about hiring staff. Under normal circumstances I would never consider taking on someone without references, but perhaps this one time I could make an exception.” She clasped her hands on her desk. “Are you willing to obey those over you and do as you’re told?”

  “You can trust me to do what’s right.”

  The matron reached down and pulled a sheet of paper from her drawer. “Very well. Fill out this form. You can start tomorrow morning at seven.”

  Relief rushed through Laura. “Thank you.”

  Miss Williams held up her index finger. “But you will have a one-week trial. That’s all I can offer you at this time. I think we both need time to discern if this is the right decision.”

  “That will be fine.” She accepted the pen and paper. One week would be more than enough time to discover if her sisters were still at Hughes and, if they were, to find a way to free them and return to London.

  * * *

  Andrew adjusted his hat as he stepped down from the cab. Henry paid the driver and climbed out after him. They turned and faced the large, impressive building set back among the trees and surrounded by a high stone wall. The sign above the iron gate read The Hughes Children’s Home.

  Andrew scanned what he could see of the grounds and building. “It looks to be in better condition than some of the other homes we’ve visited.”

  “Yes, it does.” Henry started toward the gate. “I hope their concern for th
e building reflects their care of the children.”

  Andrew fell in step beside his friend, recalling the children’s homes they’d visited in London. It had been a busy and enlightening experience. The realities of institutional care had been unsettling, to say the least, and his positive view of child emigration had been challenged at every turn.

  Only two other homes in Liverpool remained on the list. Their ocean passage was secured. Within two weeks, they would board the Parisian and set sail for Canada to continue their investigation.

  They passed through the open gate and started up the gravel drive. “How many children are housed here?”

  Henry cocked his eyebrow. “I’m not sure I appreciate your use of the term housed. It sounds as though you’re speaking of prison inmates rather than children.”

  “Sorry. That was not my intention.”

  A slight smile lifted Henry’s mouth. “I didn’t think so.” He pulled a folded paper from his jacket pocket. “Up to two hundred fifty children are in care here. It’s the main girls’ sending home in Liverpool, so the number fluctuates as the emigration parties leave for Canada.”

  Andrew nodded as they mounted the stone steps, then knocked on the front door.

  How would this home compare to the others once they moved past the well-kept exterior? Would the children be happy and healthy, or would they have emotionless, pale faces like so many of the children he’d seen at the other homes?

  An elderly woman in a simple gray dress answered the door.

  “Good morning. My name is Mr. Henry Dowd, and this is my associate, Mr. Andrew Frasier. We would like to speak to…” He glanced down at his paper. “Miss Agatha Williams, the matron.”

  “Yes sir. Her office is this way. If you’ll follow me.” The woman turned and shuffled down a long hall at a slow pace.

  Andrew glanced around. The floors looked clean, and the walls appeared to have been painted recently. But an odd smell permeated the air. He sniffed, trying to decide if the musty scent came from mold or if it was a foul cooking odor.

  Down the hall a door opened, and a woman stepped out. She was slim and dressed in a blue suit with black piping. A few strands of blond hair were visible beneath her straw hat. She glanced his way, and her blue eyes widened.

  His breath snagged. Was that Miss McAlister?

  Before he could decide, she spun away and hurried off down the hall in the opposite direction.

  He slowed and gave his head a slight shake. It couldn’t be his mother’s lady’s maid. She had gone to London, not Liverpool.

  Henry looked his way. “Everything all right?”

  “Yes. Sorry. I thought I recognized that woman, but I must be mistaken.”

  Henry glanced at her receding figure, then turned to the woman leading them down the hall. “Do you know who that was?”

  “No sir, I’ve never seen her before.” She motioned to the next door on the right, the same door the young woman had walked out of moments before. “This is the matron’s office.”

  “Thank you.” Henry opened the door and turned to Andrew. “Coming?”

  “Yes.” Andrew cast one last glance down the hall before he followed his friend into the matron’s office. He’d seen the woman’s face for only a split second, but she looked so much like Laura McAlister. Did his mother’s lady’s maid have a cousin or sister in Liverpool? Or was he just imagining the similarities for some odd reason?

  What had happened to Laura McAlister and her family? He’d offered a few prayers for her mother’s recovery and for the safety of her brother and two sisters who had been sent to a children’s home after their mother’s illness.

  A children’s home…that was odd. Perhaps that was Laura McAlister after all. But even if that were the case, he could do nothing about it now. She had disappeared out the rear door without looking back.

  * * *

  Laura shoved the door closed and quickly stepped to the side, her heartbeat pounding in her throat. Was that really Andrew Frasier? The surprised look on his face when he’d seen her banished the last of her doubts. He knew exactly who she was.

  What was he doing here? Surely he wasn’t looking for her, was he?

  She leaned back against the stone wall and tried to slow her breathing. She needed to calm down and think clearly. She had not revealed her real name to the matron or her assistant. Even if he asked about her, what could they say?

  Everyone here thought she was Mary Hopkins.

  But Andrew Frasier knew the truth.

  Her thoughts darted back to her frightening encounter in his London office with his assistant. She had given him her name, but he wouldn’t dare tell Mr. Frasier about her visit and risk her reporting how he had treated her. She hadn’t revealed the reason she wanted to speak to him. That man had nothing to pass on. There would be no reason for Andrew Frasier to follow her to Liverpool.

  This just had to be a very strange coincidence.

  Still…she had better be certain. Summoning her courage, she cracked the door open an inch and peeked through. The hall was empty now, but she could hear voices in the distance. She slipped inside and tiptoed back toward the matron’s office, stopping just outside her door.

  “How may I help you gentlemen?” That was the young redhead’s voice.

  “We’d like to speak to Miss Agatha Williams.”

  Laura frowned. That wasn’t Andrew Frasier’s voice.

  “May I give her your name?”

  “Of course. I’m Mr. Henry Dowd, and this is my associate, Mr. Andrew Frasier.”

  “Thank you. I’ll let Miss Williams know you’re here.”

  It was quiet for a moment, and Laura held her breath, waiting.

  “Do you think she’ll give us a tour or send us packing?” That was Andrew, and she could hear a touch of humor in his voice.

  “Once she sees the letter from the home secretary, she’ll have no choice but to cooperate.”

  Laura cocked her head. The home secretary? What was that about?

  A door opened. “Gentlemen, what can I do for you?” The matron’s tone made it clear she was not expecting their visit.

  “We’d like to speak to you about an important matter.”

  A second ticked by before the matron replied. “Very well. Come into my office.”

  Footsteps shuffled, and a door closed.

  Laura waited in the silence for a few more seconds, then hurried down the hall and out the front door. Questions swirled through her mind as she walked down the drive. Why had Andrew Frasier come to Hughes? It didn’t seem to have anything to do with her. That was a relief, but it still seemed very odd to see him here.

  She passed through the gate and looked down the street, searching for someone who could give her directions to Mifflin Hall. Would the staff there be more willing to listen and help her? It seemed an unlikely hope after the way she had been treated at Grangeford and Hughes, but she had to try. She could not leave Garth languishing there with no word from his family.

  Turning, she looked down the street to the left. Two policemen stood in front of a bookshop, and she set off in that direction. As she walked, she reached into her pocket and fingered Mrs. Graham’s note with the directions to her cousin’s house. She would ask the policemen how to find the boys’ home, then how to get to the address on Lime Street. Hopefully Mrs. Graham’s cousin Dorothy would give her a place to stay for at least one night and maybe more.

  The weight of her choices, her lies, and her concern for her siblings pressed down on her, making her steps heavy. The impression that she ought to pray rose in her mind again, but she clenched her jaw and pushed it away.

  She had set her course and accepted a position at Hughes under the name Mary Hopkins. Right or wrong, she would do what she must to free her sisters and brother and reunite her family.

  * * *

&nb
sp; Andrew and Henry sat across from Miss Williams in her office. The tall, austere matron wore a plain black dress with a high collar. Silver strands laced her dark brown hair, and her expression looked as though it had been chiseled from stone. She was obviously not pleased with their unannounced visit.

  “Please be seated.” Miss Williams motioned to the two chairs opposite her desk, and Henry and Andrew took their seats.

  “What brings you to Hughes?” She watched them with a wary expression.

  Henry began. “Mr. Frasier and I have been commissioned to write a report about child emigration and give recommendations to the Office of the Home Secretary.” Henry took their official letter of introduction from his coat pocket and handed it to the matron.

  Her dark eyebrows arched. “The home secretary?”

  “Yes ma’am. We’ve been asked to do a thorough investigation into all aspects of the children’s care here in England and then in Canada. The information verifying our investigation is in the letter.”

  The matron unfolded the sheet of stationery and scanned the page. Her mouth firmed, and she looked up and met Henry’s gaze. “I can assure you we follow all the appropriate rules and regulations. The girls at Hughes receive excellent care and preparation for their new lives in Canada.” She folded the letter and slid it back across the desk.

  “That’s good to know.” Henry picked up the letter and placed it in his pocket again. “We would like to tour the home and see the children’s quarters, classrooms, and dining hall. We’d also like to know how the children are selected and prepared for their journey to Canada.”

  Miss Williams’s eyebrows rose. “I’m not sure that will be possible today. I have a full schedule. I would prefer you make an appointment later this week or next. Then I can give you my full attention.”

  “I’m sorry. That won’t be possible. We’re leaving for Canada soon to inspect the receiving homes there and visit some of the children who have been placed with families. It’s important that we tour Hughes today and learn all we can before we depart.”