by Cathy Sharp
Angela walked past the tables, glancing at the chairs, and stopping at the table used by Mary Ellen and Billy, but everything was in order. She could see nothing different … nothing that need concern anyone. About to leave, her gaze returned to the table where the condiments stood. For a moment she wasn’t sure what had caught her eye, and then she saw that the metal top of the sugar castor was on crooked.
She approached thoughtfully. Surely Terry wouldn’t do something so foolish – why should he?
She picked up the castor and sprinkled some sugar on the palm of her hand, then licked a finger and tasted the white substance, pulling a face of disgust. Salt had been added to the contents, which would be horrible in drinks or on a fruit pudding.
‘Oh Terry, why?’ she sighed. She tried the next castor and found that was also salt, and when she tasted the salt from one of the shakers, discovered that it had pepper mixed in with it, and the pepper had sugar. From what she could see he had tampered with most of the pots on the table, which meant they must all be emptied and refilled – and that was both a waste of time and money.
Why had Terry done it? Who did he want to hurt? Any of the children could have been affected and it was a spiteful act intended to cause distress and upset, though it wouldn’t actually harm anyone.
Angela could not imagine why the lad would want to strike out against the other children. Surely, he must know that he was lucky to have been given a place at St Saviour’s?
Angela collected all the shakers and castors on a tray and carried it into the kitchen. Muriel the cook was busy mixing one of her fatless sponges in a pudding bowl. She looked surprised as Angela set the tray down and started to empty all the containers into the rubbish bowl.
‘What is the matter?’
‘Someone has put salt in the sugar, and sugar in the pepper, and pepper in the salt. I’m afraid it all has to be thrown away and the shakers washed and dried.’
‘How foolish,’ Muriel said, looking cross. She stopped beating her mixture and put her finger in to taste it. ‘Whoever it was hasn’t been at my sugar, thank goodness. Really, some of these children! Do you know who did it?’
‘I’m not certain,’ Angela said, because even though Nan thought Terry had been up to mischief they hadn’t seen him do it.
‘What made you suspect it?’
‘It was just that the top of one of the castors was on crooked and I tasted it. I thought I’d best try several and most of them seem to be contaminated – so the only thing to do is to start again.’
‘I’ll bet it was that Terry,’ Muriel said. ‘You know, the boy whose parents died in a fire. I caught him in here the other morning. He was after one of my jam tarts but he’s a sly one. I dare say he’s the culprit … sulky child, to my mind.’
‘We mustn’t forget that he has lost both parents. It was a terrible experience for him.’
‘Most of the children here have had bad experiences, but we’ve never had anything like this happen before.’
‘Well, I discovered the foolish prank before any harm was done.’
‘That isn’t the point,’ Muriel objected. ‘Who knows what he might take it into his head to do next? It could have been rat poison …’
‘No, surely not! Where would he get such a thing? It was merely a silly prank.’
‘The caretaker has rat poison in the cellar. You mark my words, Angela. Now he’s done this he won’t stop there. You must tell Sister Beatrice. He has to be punished or next time he might do something really bad.’
‘Perhaps.’ Angela frowned as she worked at refilling the clean containers. She’d hoped she need not tell Sister, but if she didn’t, Muriel probably would and then it would cause more trouble. ‘Very well, I’ll speak to her when I go upstairs.’
She picked up her tray to return to the dining room, but as she entered it, she saw the back of a child running through the door and knew immediately that Terry had been spying on them, listening to her conversation with Muriel.
THIRTY-ONE
‘Mark …’ Angela called to him as she saw him turn away from Sister’s office. ‘Have you seen Sister anywhere? She wasn’t in her office a few minutes ago.’
‘And isn’t now,’ Mark said. ‘I need a word with her rather urgently, but I’ll try the wards in a moment. How are you? We haven’t seen much of each other recently.’
‘No, I always seem to be busy and I dare say you are too.’
‘Yes, but …’
He shook his head, experiencing a pang of regret as he met her clear eyes and felt that hunger for her that had been growing inside him for a long time now. Carole was pretty and available, and he’d enjoyed his evening out with her though he hadn’t felt inclined to repeat it, but there was something about Angela that made him want to carry her off to his lair. He laughed inwardly as he recognised the caveman instinct and told himself not to be a fool.
‘I imagine Sister is busy too, wherever she’s got to. She will undoubtedly turn up soon.’
‘Undoubtedly,’ Angela laughed. The sound caught at his stomach. She had such a wonderful laugh and it was good to hear it again. If Nick had made her happy he couldn’t begrudge her that happiness. ‘Was it very important? Can I give her a message?’
‘No, I need to speak to her myself.’ Mark lingered, wanting to keep her talking for a bit longer. ‘How is everything? All your schemes on course?’
‘Yes, I’m going home tomorrow to talk to my father. I popped down last Sunday. Mother was in bed with a headache and I thought he seemed very tired so I’ve decided to take a couple of days off this week to see how things really are at home.’
‘If you’d told me sooner I could have driven you down, but I have appointments all day tomorrow.’
‘Oh, Nick is going to drive me to the station, and then he’ll come down again on Wednesday to pick me up – but thank you, Mark.’ Angela averted her eyes from him at the mention of Nick. ‘It was good of you to offer, because I know how busy you are. Your work is so important. I know Sister Beatrice relies on you for advice all the time.’
‘Not too busy for you, if you need me,’ he said wryly. ‘Remember I’m always ready to help if you need me …’
‘Yes, I know,’ Angela said, and smiled. ‘I think Dad is worrying about my mother – he didn’t say, but I believe the drinking is worse. I think she needs to see someone and perhaps go to a clinic or something.’
‘I might be able to help, Angela – and there is a place in Switzerland that would suit her. It is expensive of course …’
‘I have money that John left me that I’ve hardly touched. We could manage that side of it – it’s just getting Mum to acknowledge that she’s ill. At the moment she won’t talk about her problem.’
‘I’m going down soon myself. Shall I call on her as a friend and suggest that she consults me professionally?’
Angela was silent for a moment, and then inclined her head. ‘Yes, she might talk to you, Mark. She hardly speaks to my father and she just tells me that I’m making a fuss over nothing. It doesn’t seem fair to involve you, because you have enough to worry about – but it would make me feel easier in my mind. Poor Daddy looks worried to death.’
Mark hesitated for a moment, he felt a desperate need to declare his feelings before it was too late, to let her know that he would do anything to win her love and trust – but her casual manner told him it would be useless and perhaps it was already too late. Perhaps she would never see him as a man with needs and desires, but only as her friend. Perhaps he should have spoken more plainly before this about his feelings, but he’d known she was emotionally fragile after her husband’s death, and that she wasn’t ready for a relationship. It would be his own fault if he’d missed his chance with her.
‘I’ll do what I can, speak to her myself,’ he promised. ‘And it’s no trouble – you and your family are my friends, Angela.’
‘Thank you, Mark. I’m so grateful.’
‘No need.’ He didn’t want gratitud
e, he wanted love – sweet, lasting, passionate love, but he wasn’t sure Angela would ever feel that way towards him.
He was frowning as he walked away, his thoughts turning to his work. It was a pity that Sister Beatrice had been out, because he’d wanted to tell her that he’d found a place for Terry in the country. The home was a secure clinic, pleasant and modern in its outlook, but, unfortunately, they couldn’t take the boy for another month when their new building would be finished. Mark had provisionally booked the boy’s place, but he would need to talk to Nancy first and try to explain that she could visit her brother often. His latest observation of Terry earlier that morning had convinced Mark that the lad was teetering on the edge, one minute a likeable boy and the next … malicious and sly. If he’d ever been in doubt that Terry was unstable he was no longer uncertain.
It had shocked him to see that Terry had completely ripped apart the teddy bear that Angela had given him. When he’d mentioned it, Terry had laughed and said it served her right.
‘She’s got Nance on her side, but I ain’t fooled; I know she’s the same as them others,’ he’d said viciously.
‘And what are all the others like, Terry?’ Mark asked in a casual tone.
‘They’re against us, me and Nance,’ he muttered. ‘I hate it here. I want to go home to me ma. I want me ma …’
Always that same phrase, over and over again. It was as if Terry had erected a mental block in his mind, refusing to remember the fire or what had happened to his mother. In his confused thoughts he’d convinced himself that everything would be all right if he could go back to his mother. Mark was sure that he knew the truth, but didn’t want to face it … perhaps because he was afraid of what he would see if he let the memory back in.
The police had not been able to give him conclusive proof of how the blaze had started; it was thought that the bedroom door had been the seat of the fire, and that perhaps an oil lamp had been dropped, but it was still mere speculation.
If there was somewhere else he could put Terry he thought he might do it today, and yet the only alternative to waiting for the special clinic was a secure mental institution and if Terry was teetering on the brink that would surely push him over the edge, because they were terrible places – especially for a young child.
As yet Terry’s small acts of violence had done no real harm, but what would happen if he were ever really crossed? Mark needed to talk to the boy’s sister, to make her understand that Terry needed special treatment for his own sake.
Mark believed that the situation was still stable, providing Terry was not pushed too far. As was his habit with such important matters, he had taken his time coming to a decision, but something in the boy’s eyes had been different this morning and he was a little uneasy, his intuition being that Terry had taken a step towards the darkness. Yet still Terry had done nothing that made him a danger to anyone; it was just a gut feeling that he might if upset. Once Mark had the lad at the clinic he could bring in several colleagues and ask for their opinions, though his own was growing stronger all the time. He would have to write up a report to justify taking the boy into secure custody, because it wasn’t something you could do on a whim or an instinct: you had to have clear, concise reasons for your actions.
Yet there were so many others needing his attention, and Terry was not officially his patient, until the actual commitment papers were signed and he was taken into the clinic – something that would cause distress to the boy and his sister. It was a hard decision but he was rapidly coming to believe it was the only one.
He really needed to talk to Sister Beatrice about the boy, but she seemed to have gone missing – unless she was in the wards.
‘I was looking for Sister Beatrice,’ Mark said as he entered the sick ward and discovered Carole standing by the desk. ‘She isn’t in her office.’
‘I think she went out to see someone,’ Carole replied, looking at him expectantly. ‘She came in to check everything was all right here and said she wouldn’t be back until later this afternoon. She didn’t say where she was going – but then she often goes off without telling us where she will be.’
‘Really? I wouldn’t have thought that of Sister. She always seems so reliable.’
‘Yes, of course she is … only – no, I shouldn’t tell tales …’ Carole shook her head. ‘It’s just that she has seemed a bit forgetful recently.’
‘In what way?’
Carole hesitated, then, ‘I found the medicine cupboard open yesterday and Sister’s keys were left in the door. She’d been checking it and her list … well, she appeared to have left it half done and gone off to do something else, leaving the cupboard unlocked.’
‘I dare say she was called away and it slipped her mind.’
‘I’m sure you’re right,’ Carole said. ‘I wouldn’t want you to think I was finding fault, but … it isn’t a good thing to leave the medicine cupboard open. The children could have taken something and swallowed it out of curiosity …’
‘I imagine Sister thought it was safe enough. She trusts her staff to watch out for such eventualities.’
‘Yes, but …’ Carole bit her lip, seeming uncertain. ‘No, I’m sure you’re right. It was an emergency, I expect.’
‘I imagine so.’ Mark smiled at her. ‘How are your patients today, Nurse?’
I think most of the children are quite well at the moment …’ She paused, pouting at him a little and fluttering her long lashes flirtatiously. ‘You haven’t been to see me for ages.’
‘A couple of weeks or so – hardly ages.’ Mark raised his dark eyebrows. It had been a conscious decision not to see the pretty young woman, because he didn’t want to get too involved, and yet it seemed that Angela saw him only as a colleague and a family friend. When it came to her free time, she preferred Nick Hadden’s company. Mark would be a fool to ignore the signals Carole was giving him, when he clearly had no chance with Angela. He hesitated a moment longer, then, ‘I suppose you wouldn’t be free for dinner this evening?’
‘I might be able to squeeze you in, if you’re asking?’
He laughed because the message she gave out was blatant and he found himself responding to the invitation in those sparkling eyes. Every time he’d asked Angela out recently she’d refused him, either because she was too busy or she was already promised to someone else – mainly Nick Hadden. Mark thought it might be serious between them and that was hard to take. Suddenly, with all of the anxiety around Terry and his own hurt feelings because Angela preferred another man, Mark felt reckless.
‘No theatre this time,’ he said, ‘but dinner … and then we could go dancing if you like?’
‘Yes, please. I’ll wear my best dress for you …’
Mark responded to the teasing in her voice. He liked Carole, enjoyed her company, and he’d been a fool not to follow up on that first evening. Angela didn’t want him, why shouldn’t he enjoy an evening out with a young woman who did? What harm could dinner and a few drinks do?
THIRTY-TWO
‘I’ve brought these drinks up for you,’ Sally said as she carried the tray into the sick room and placed it on the desk. ‘I wondered if you wanted to take your break now. I could serve the drinks and watch over the patients until you return.’
‘I will take my break at the proper time,’ Carole said. ‘I have a bed bath to do before I’m ready to leave the ward.’
‘I could help you,’ Sally offered. ‘I’m free for a while, because Angela has gone down to read to the little ones. She was talking to Mr Adderbury earlier. I think she’s going home for a couple of days tomorrow. He sometimes takes her down in his car, so they were probably arranging it. I think he’s a bit sweet on her …’
‘Thank you, but I’m perfectly capable of doing a bed bath on my own.’ Carole glared at her. ‘You can send Jean up to fetch the tray in half an hour or so and I’ll take my break then.’
‘Oh, all right.’ Sally looked hurt. ‘I was only offering to help.’
&nbs
p; Carole knew she shouldn’t have snapped at Sally who was one of the best, always willing to do what she could, but the thought of Mark talking to Angela, and of driving her down to her parents’ house rankled with her. Of course they had homes in the same village and had been friends a long time, from what Carole could gather … but that didn’t give Angela first call on his time.
She felt a surge of jealousy. Mark was hers now. If he was going to take her out, she wanted to be sure his mind was on her and not on Angela. Determination settled on her mouth as Sally left, and she made up her mind. She wanted Mark because he had influence and could help her ambition to become the Warden here one day – perhaps sooner than she’d thought when she first arrived. Finding Sister’s keys in the door of the medicine cupboard had given Carole an idea. Mark had been right when he said Sister had been suddenly called away and she’d returned shortly afterwards and asked Carole for her keys. It was a minor lapse, but Carole intended to make the most of it. She’d planted a tiny seed of doubt and she would find a way to make that seed grow – before long she would have him and others thinking that Sister Beatrice was getting too old for her position. Carole could think of ways to put Sister in the wrong, but Angela was sharp-eyed and clever. It wouldn’t suit Carole to see her elevated to the post over her head.
Tonight, she would do her best to end up in Mark’s bed. She’d noticed he seemed a bit low and with a little persuasion he could be induced to drink rather too much. It wouldn’t be Carole’s fault if he took advantage of her good nature. She smiled to herself as her plans to better herself began to take shape in her mind. Carole wasn’t going to be just a staff nurse for much longer. She might even get Mark to marry her. He was attractive and rich – and he could help her get what she wanted, which was a good job that would always stand her in good stead. Husbands didn’t always work out, but as Warden of St Saviour’s she would be in position of authority – and she’d be rid of Angela Morton the first chance she got, but she needed to make sure of Mark first …
