The Orphans of Bell Lane

by Ruthie Lewis

  ‘France and Prussia are at war. I suppose we’ve been expecting it, but I reckoned it would just be a few border skirmishes then common sense would prevail and they would negotiate a peace. Instead, it looks like the French are getting badly knocked about. Uncle Hector won’t be happy. He does a lot of trade with France.’

  ‘As Mr Crompton does with Germany,’ said Grace. ‘I do hope Britain won’t be drawn in.’

  ‘Oh, no fear of that. Old Gladstone is too smart to get us into that mess.’ Walter lowered the newspaper. ‘Look at us,’ he said. ‘Chatting over breakfast like an old married couple. Is it starting to sink in yet?’

  Grace laughed. ‘Which? That the Captain is gone, or that we are going to be married?’

  ‘I was thinking of the latter, but yes to both.’ Walter dug his spoon into his bowl of porridge. ‘How long will the doctor keep me here? I’m dying to get back to the school. Have you been coping all right without me?’

  ‘You ask that question every day,’ Grace said, ‘and every day I give you the same answer. We have been coping just fine without you. Rebecca Berton has been appointed a pupil-teacher. She is fifteen now, and more than ready. Agnes has taken over your class, and Rebecca has taken Agnes’s class. All is well, and you are not well enough yet to go home, let alone back to work.’

  ‘And there have been no more threats? I’m still worried about that, to tell you the truth.’

  ‘So am I,’ said Grace quietly. The Captain had been right. The arrest of himself and the other leaders had caused the Bull Head Gang to splinter, but not to disappear entirely. Different factions had emerged, fighting a short but violent war for territory that led to several groups being pushed out, but the signs were that the remaining groups were starting to consolidate. Rotherhithe’s interval of peace after the Captain’s arrest would be short-lived.

  ‘So, when do you think I might be up and about?’ Walter asked.

  Grace smiled at him. She could not remain downcast these days. ‘If you are a good boy and eat all your breakfast,’ she said, ‘I will take you in tomorrow. The trustees are meeting, and they will be glad to see you. Now, Louisa will be here at midday as usual to give you a meal. Until then, do you have everything you need?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Walter, ‘except for one thing. Your smile. Would you mind leaving it with me when you go? I get awfully lonely without it.’

  ‘Flattery will get you nowhere,’ said Grace, kissing him.

  ‘Won’t it? Blast. I was counting on it to get me out of quite a few scrapes, once we are married.’

  Still laughing, Grace gathered the children and went off to the school, escorted as ever by the faithful Radcliffe. At school she was greeted with warm smiles by her fellow teachers and squeaks of delight by her pupils. She went through her day in a haze of happiness. In the afternoon she gathered the children and walked home, delighting in the world around her. Even the smoke of the factories hanging in the air could not dampen her spirits.

  Walter was sitting in a chair in the parlour when Grace walked in. She stared at him. ‘What are you doing?’ she demanded. ‘Why are you up?’

  ‘Because it is time I got up,’ he said grimly. ‘The gangs are back.’

  They looked at each other. ‘How do you know?’ Grace asked. The children stood behind her, silent.

  ‘Someone put a letter under the door this morning. Mrs Berton found it when she came in, and gave it to me.’ He handed over the paper. ‘Have a look.’

  The letter was written in crude handwriting. Grace read it, her heart sinking.

  To Master Walter Ringrose, and the woman who calls herself Grace Turneur. You impeached our Captain and you sent him to hang. This letter is to give you fair warning. Your time will come.

  Yours faithfully, the Albion Gang (formerly known as the Bull Head)

  ‘The problem is, I don’t know how serious this is,’ Walter said. ‘Is this Albion Gang a real gang, or is it just a few bully-boys nursing a grudge?’

  ‘Even if it is the latter, they could be dangerous,’ Grace said.

  ‘I know. Blast! After all our hard work, all we’ve been through, why can’t these pests let us alone? Well, it doesn’t matter. We’re not going to let them stand in our way. Paradise Row School will go on, and we’ll jolly well make it the best free school in London.’

  ‘We will,’ said Grace smiling.

  But Reverend Soames had other ideas. He called that evening, when a west wind swept smoke and cinders across the city and poisoned the air with fumes from the glue factory; even though it was summer, he had a scarf over his face. ‘Good evening,’ he said cheerfully, white beard wagging as he smiled at the children. ‘I shall not detain you for long. I merely called, Mr Ringrose, to see how your recovery is progressing.’

  ‘Very well,’ said Walter, smiling. ‘My nurse has promised to let me out tomorrow.’

  ‘I am sure you are in capable hands,’ said Reverend Soames.

  ‘Er,’ said Grace. ‘While you are here, Reverend, there is something we would like to ask you.’ She felt herself blushing, and reached for Walter’s hand. ‘We wish to be married. Not right away, but in a couple of months, perhaps. And we wondered if you would perform the service.’

  ‘I would be honoured,’ said Reverend Soames, bowing. ‘You are the most gallant couple I know. And this time we shall call the banns.’

  Then his voice grew more sober. ‘I confess there is another reason for my calling,’ he said. ‘Word has reached my ears – in part thanks to your friends at the King’s Arms, Mr Ringrose – that the gangs are reforming.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Walter. ‘We heard that too.’

  ‘It was to be expected, of course. Nature abhors a vacuum, and in the absence of an effective police force in this part of the city, the gangs were bound to return. But I am concerned for your safety, my children.’

  Grace picked up the letter from the side table and handed it to the rector. ‘This arrived today,’ she said. ‘We were wondering how seriously to take it.’

  Reverend Soames looked even more grave. ‘I think you should take this very seriously indeed.’

  Silence fell. ‘We cannot give in,’ said Walter.

  ‘I understand your sentiments,’ said the rector. ‘And I am sure that the resistance to the gangs within the community, which the two of you so ably led, will continue. But you must consider yourselves, and your family. This is not a threat against the Paradise Row School, or the community, but against the two of you in person. You nearly lost your life once already, Mr Ringrose. You might not be so fortunate a second time.’

  ‘What do you suggest, sir?’ Grace asked.

  ‘I have had an idea in mind for some time, but have been hesitant to mention it because I knew how deeply committed you were to Paradise Row. However, I think the time is right. You may recall, Mrs Turneur, my decision to found a free school in my new parish of Orpington, where I go in a few weeks’ time. I had asked if you would advise me on its establishment.’

  Grace nodded. ‘Would the two of you consider instead coming to run the school for me?’ asked the rector. ‘I think you would find teaching in a poor agricultural community every bit as challenging, and rewarding, as your work here. You would be contributing to the greater cause of education, just as you are here.’

  Grace and Walter hesitated, looking at each other. ‘I would pay you a salary, of course,’ the rector said. ‘And a house would be found for you. A house with a garden, and green space and clean air for your little ones. The health-giving benefits of country air cannot be overstated.’

  Even inside with the doors and windows shut, they could smell the stench of the glue factory. ‘Perhaps,’ said Walter doubtfully. ‘In my experience, the countryside has plenty of smells of its own.’

  ‘It does,’ acknowledged the rector. ‘But they are on the whole good honest smells, not coal and tar and chemicals that sting the eyes and rot the lungs. For my part, I shall miss the people of Bermondsey, but not its smoke and reek
.’

  ‘It is a very kind and generous offer,’ said Grace. ‘May we think about it?’

  ‘Of course.’ The rector smiled and bowed again. ‘Bless you, my children. I look forward to your wedding day.’

  *

  ‘Not half as much as I’m look forward to it,’ said Walter when the rector had gone.

  But the jest was lost on Grace, who was deep in thought. ‘What do you think?’ she asked.

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Walter. ‘He’s right, it would be a challenge, and a jolly good one. Some of these farming villages really are quite desperately deprived. But . . . leaving would feel like giving up.’

  He looked at Grace. ‘What do you think? Could you really give up the school, after having worked so hard for it?’

  ‘My first thought was no,’ said Grace. ‘I have stood by my school against all threats, but . . . I confess I am tempted. Before, if I gave in the school would close, but the Paradise Row School is strong and thriving now. I love it, and I always will, but it no longer needs us. Mela or Agnes or someone else could take over and run it equally well. The threat this time is to us, not the school, us and the children. And if we leave, the gang might let the school alone.’

  Grace paused. ‘And, I confess, like you I think Reverend Soames has presented us with a challenge, something new and interesting to do. I am intrigued.’

  She smiled. ‘When we are married, we shall start a new life. Why not start a new adventure as well?’

  ‘How do you think the children would feel?’ Walter asked.

  ‘Let’s ask them,’ said Grace.

  They canvassed opinion over the dinner table. She had been prepared for Albert and the twins to dig their heels in, for Bell Lane was the only home they had ever known. She was surprised to find they were looking forward to the idea.

  ‘I want to travel and see the world,’ said Albert. ‘I know it is only ten miles, but that is a start.’

  ‘I want a garden,’ said Daisy. ‘I want to plant things in the ground, and watch them grow, and then eat them.’

  ‘Will there be music in the country?’ Harry asked.

  ‘There will,’ said Walter. ‘Brass bands and silver bands and fiddle players and all manner of music.’ Harry clapped his hands with delight.

  ‘What do you think, Joe?’ Grace asked.

  ‘I think Radcliffe would like the country,’ said Joe.

  Grace smiled. ‘Edith is too young to have a vote. That leaves you, Mary.’

  Mary’s smile was warm in return. ‘I’ve never seen the country,’ she said. ‘I think it sounds interesting. Let’s go.’

  *

  ‘Welcome back, my boy,’ said Mr Gould, shaking Walter’s hand warmly. ‘How are you?’

  ‘On the mend, sir,’ said Walter. It was the following afternoon; classes had just ended and the trustees had gathered for their monthly meeting,

  ‘We have asked the other staff to join us,’ Grace said. ‘Mr Ringrose – Walter and I have a couple of announcements to make.’

  They waited a moment while Mela, Agnes, Hermione, Rebecca, Mickey and Brigit came into the room and sat down. ‘The first announcement,’ said Walter, ‘is I have asked Grace to be my wife. I am pleased to say that she has done me the great honour of accepting.’

  There were cries of delight from the other teachers and smiles from the trustees. ‘I hope we have your blessing,’ Grace said to Mr Clare. ‘And yours, Sir Hector.’ She looked at Mela. ‘And yours, my dear friend.’

  Mr Clare smiled. ‘I speak for Sir Hector and myself when I say that we are both delighted that this happy – and keenly anticipated – event has finally taken place. Congratulations to you both.’

  ‘I’m just cross that I lost the sweepstake,’ said Mela, to general laughter.

  ‘It looks like everyone knew we were getting married except us,’ said Walter dryly. ‘The second announcement is much harder . . . The two of us have been offered a chance to run a free school in Orpington, under the sponsorship of Reverend Soames. After much painful deliberation, and not a little heartache, we have decided to accept.’

  There was silence in the room. ‘This was not an easy decision,’ said Grace. ‘But as you may know, Walter and I have received threats against our persons. Were it only our own lives that were at stake, we would defy the gangs to do their worst, and carry on. But there is our family to consider as well. Five of them have been orphaned at some time in their lives, and we are not willing to put them through this again. For their sake, and for the sake of the school, we have decided it is best that we should go.’

  Mr Gould nodded slowly. ‘You decision is quite timely,’ he said. ‘I should tell you that the return of the gangs has left us, the trustees, more than a little concerned about your safety.’

  Mr Crompton nodded. ‘We can protect the school,’ he said, ‘but we would find it harder to protect you and your family. We cannot guard all of you, all the time.’

  ‘As your kin, we are delighted to see you take any steps that will increase your safety,’ said Sir Hector, and Mr Clare smiled and looked at Grace. ‘That goes for me also,’ he said.

  Grace smiled back at him and turned to Mr Raikes.

  ‘You have been my guide from the beginning,’ she said. ‘Time and time again, I have turned to you for help, and you have never failed me. I would value your opinion, sir.’

  Solomon Raikes rubbed his jaw for a moment. ‘I think,’ he said, ‘that you have contributed a great chapter to the history of education in London, Mrs Turneur, and you too, Mr Ringrose. People will remember you as the pioneers, the ones who first brought schools to these poor districts south of the river, and stuck to your task against all odds and made those schools succeed.’

  He gestured around the room. ‘Now, we have this fine building, an excellent teaching staff, and nigh on two hundred pupils. By any measure one might care to name, you have succeeded. I believe it is time for you to close this chapter, and move on to the next.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Grace, swallowing the lump in her throat. ‘I suppose the next question is, who will take the post of head teacher? Do you wish to appoint someone from outside, or do you wish to promote one of the current staff?’

  Hermione spoke first. ‘I don’t know if this is a democracy,’ she said. ‘But if it is, I vote for Miss Clare.’

  Agnes nodded. ‘Beyond doubt, it must be Miss Clare,’ she said.

  ‘Miss Clare,’ said Rebecca.

  ‘Miss Clare,’ repeated Mickey, and Brigit nodded vigorously.

  ‘But what about the Clare School?’ Grace asked. ‘You were supposed to take over that, one day.’

  ‘And perhaps I will, eventually,’ Mela said. ‘But Mother still shows no signs of slowing down and besides . . . I like it here.’

  ‘Then far be it from us to deny the will of the people,’ said Mr Gould. ‘Miss Clare, on behalf of the trustees, I offer you the role of headmistress. May God bless the Paradise Row School.’

  ‘And all who sail in her,’ said Mr Ringrose happily.

  *

  When Grace left school that evening someone was waiting for her, a ragged barefoot boy standing in the shadows. He was taller than she remembered, and had filled out a little. She saw with a lump in her throat that he was growing up.

  ‘Jimmy,’ said Grace softly. ‘I am so glad to see you. Are you well?’

  Jimmy nodded. ‘I’ve left the gang,’ he said. ‘I wanted to come and tell you that.’

  ‘I’m so glad. But Jimmy, are you safe?’

  The boy nodded again. ‘I still hear from some of the others. They know you peached against the Captain, but they don’t know it was me who told you. Otherwise, I would be dead.’

  ‘You must be careful all the same,’ said Grace. ‘Jimmy . . . just before they took you, I had arranged a place for you at a grammar school in Lewisham. I could write to the headmaster. I am sure he would still be willing to give you a place, free of charge, and he will find accommodat
ion for you too.’

  ‘That’s very generous of you, miss,’ said Jimmy. He corrected himself. ‘Sorry, missus.’

  ‘It is the very least I can do,’ Grace said. ‘You have such talent, Jimmy. I have never seen a pupil with such ability. You could go very far in the world, if you want to.’

  Jimmy smiled and shook his head. ‘I can’t,’ he said. ‘I have to look after my ma.’

  ‘Sara? She let the gangs take you, Jimmy.’

  ‘She didn’t want to do it,’ Jimmy said. ‘When she tried to argue with Da, he hit her. After Da got killed, the Captain paid her rent. But now he’s gone, there’s no one to support her, and she’s too ill to work. I’ve got to work and look after her.’

  What a waste, Grace thought, but then she stopped. Jimmy was doing his duty by his family, just as she had done. She took the boy’s hand and kissed him softly on the forehead.

  ‘If you change your mind, come and find me,’ she said. ‘We’re moving to Orpington to open a school. There will always be a place for you there.’

  ‘I will. And I’ll never forget what you taught me. Good luck, missus.’

  ‘You too, Jimmy.’

  The boy turned and walked away down the street. Grace stood motionless, watching him until he disappeared from view.

  *

  And so, the orphans of Bell Lane, Joe and me, Albert and Harry and Daisy and Grace herself, went out to live in the country. Reverend Soames performed the marriage and we settled into our new home. Everyone was happy. The twins played out of doors and Daisy got her garden. Albert’s new father has taught him to play cricket, which he is actually quite good at, and he still enjoys cooking, too, lots more than I do. Joe and Radcliffe go out into the woods and chase rabbits. They never catch anything.

  The new school is going well. They have won over the local farmers and even the Romany labourers, who aren’t always best mates with each other, but they are teaching the kids of both in the same school side by side. I’ve made some good friends among both groups. I never had proper friends. I don’t think I can really count the Angels. It feels good to be liked.

  My life has changed, forever. I’ll never be a thief now. I’ll never join the Forty Elephants, and in some ways that’s a pity, because I think I’d have been a very good thief, maybe even one of the best. But I don’t want that life anymore. I’ve got something better now, something I never expected to have again. I have a father, a kind, clever, funny man whom I love and respect. And most of all, the blessing that fell from the skies one night like something out of one of Mr Dickens’s books, I have a mother.