The Little Runaways

by Cathy Sharp

  ‘Well, you can only do your best,’ Beatrice said, and sighed as he took his leave. She had a busy week coming up. That afternoon a wealthy couple were coming to see some children who had been selected with a view to fostering one of them and then perhaps, if they all liked each other, adopting that fortunate child. It didn’t happen often and Beatrice had thought long and hard about who she ought to choose. Mary Ellen had been set aside at once, because her sister, Rose, had made it clear that she was not for adoption. Sarah Morgan was perhaps a little older than the couple had asked for, though she was an intelligent girl who would have benefited from a family of her own. Marion was one of her choices, along with a little girl name Julie,who was just six, very pretty and had been here for two years after her parents were killed during the war – and Betsy.

  Betsy was not a pretty child. Her hair almost always wanted washing and she was always snivelling, her nose running and her eyes red. If any of the children at St Saviour’s needed a mother, it was surely Betsy. Yes, Betsy definitely deserved this chance, but the potential parents would probably choose Julie, such was the law of probability and luck.

  The builders were due in a few days. They’d promised to do all the work in a day and were bringing in a team of carpenters, plumbers, electricians and roofers to tidy up a lot of small jobs that had needed doing for some months.

  The phone rang and she reached for it, hearing Carole’s voice as she answered. ‘Sister, could you come down to the isolation ward please? I’ve got two sick children here this morning and I’m worried it might be measles. Will you have a look at them and tell me if we should have the doctor, please.’

  ‘Measles? I’ll come immediately.’

  Beatrice frowned as she left her office. She wanted as few children as possible in St Saviour’s on Thursday, because of the builders. It looked as if both the sick wards would have occupants, but they would be safe enough up there; the main thing was to get the little ones out of the way and she could leave that to Angela.

  Constable Sallis decided that he wouldn’t bother going back to the station to report what he’d learned. Sister Beatrice had asked him to come to her office and speak to young Nancy when he’d called on a routine matter. The girl had seemed certain that her brother would’ve gone down the dockyard, and he might as well go and have a look. He was due off duty in ten minutes, but when a child was in trouble he didn’t mind putting in a bit of extra effort.

  He whistled as he walked, pleased with life. He’d decided he would ask his girlfriend Sadie to wed him and settle down in a nice little house he’d been lucky enough to rent. He thought she might say yes and he was feeling good about things in general. His superior thought a lot of him at work and he was hoping for promotion next year if he took his sergeant’s exams …

  It wasn’t a bad day down the dockyard. Still cool in the wind, but the hint of spring in the air at last – mind you, it would still get damned cold at night. He began asking questions of men he met. Had they seen a young lad hanging around, were they aware of a boy sleeping rough?

  ‘Sorry, mate, I ain’t seen anyone.’ The same answer came back at him time and again, and then he saw the wood stack and walked towards the man standing close by.

  ‘Have you seen a young lad anywhere about?’ he asked the man, who stared at him as if he hadn’t heard the question. ‘I’m searching for a boy of about ten – hanging about in the yard or the sheds.’

  ‘You want the boy?’ The man’s voice was guttural, foreign-sounding.

  ‘Yes – his name is Terry. Have you seen him?’

  The man didn’t answer but jerked his head in the direction of some stacks of wood. The planks were arranged in piles with narrow walkways between them. Constable Sallis walked in the direction indicated, a smile of satisfaction in his eyes. It had been easier than he’d hoped. Not only would he have the satisfaction of taking the runaway lad back to Sister Beatrice, it would look good on his record.

  He saw the boy sitting on an upturned orange crate halfway down one of the aisles and moved purposely towards him. Terry looked up, startled and poised to run, obviously in fear.

  ‘It’s all right, Terry lad,’ Constable Sallis said, holding out his hand. ‘I’ve not come to arrest you. I’m just going to take you home where you belong.’

  ‘No,’ Terry muttered, backing away down the aisle. ‘I’m not going nowhere with you. I ain’t going ter let them shut me in that place …’

  ‘I promise you I’m not going to shut you anywhere,’ Constable Sallis said, smiling to show he meant no harm, but Terry suddenly reached up and tugged at a plank, and with a loud crashing sound the pile seemed to tumble into the aisle, cutting off his approach and knocking him flying into the bargain. One of the planks hit him on the head, pushing his helmet over his eyes so he couldn’t see where the boy had gone and making him feel dizzy for a moment. He was stumbling out of the chaos Terry had caused when another constable came up to him.

  ‘What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?’ he demanded. ‘Why did you go blundering in there after the lad when we’d had our orders to keep an eye on him and do nothing until Mr Adderbury came? My chief is going to be furious, because he owes Adderbury a favour and he isn’t going to like this one little bit.’

  Constable Sallis groaned. Why had he tried to do a good deed? He would get a rollicking over this and it wouldn’t help his promotion chances for next year.

  Mark listened to the news and frowned. There was no point in making a fuss and Sister Beatrice had every right to speak to the constable. It was a pity he hadn’t checked in first, but it had been a lack of communication – and in part that was down to Mark.

  ‘Well, nothing we can do now,’ he said into the mouthpiece. ‘If your chaps will keep their eyes open, we might find he goes back there when he’s calmed down.’

  Replacing the receiver, Mark felt annoyed with himself. He’d impressed on Angela that they should keep Nancy’s confession private for the time being, but he ought to have let Sister Beatrice know that he had things going on in the background. She wasn’t going to be pleased when she learned that the police constable had frightened Terry off and they were back to square one.

  He had better go and have a word with her before anyone else did, because otherwise Angela might have to bear the brunt of her displeasure.

  ‘I do not take kindly to being kept in the dark,’ Sister said when Mark told her the outcome. ‘Had I been informed that Terry was being searched for discreetly on the Docks I should not have asked Constable Sallis to search for him.’

  ‘No, of course you wouldn’t and it was entirely my fault,’ Mark admitted. ‘I’m afraid I rang a friend just before I went away for a couple of days and I didn’t think of letting anyone know. I just assumed you would realise that he was being searched for …’

  ‘Yes, of course I knew,’ Beatrice said. ‘I merely asked the constable if he had thought of the dockyard after Nancy said her brother often went there in the past. Had I realised what you intended … I really do think I should have been told.’

  ‘Yes, of course you should,’ he admitted. ‘I had intended to tell you this morning – but it was too late. I’d hoped I might coax Terry to come with me, but unfortunately he was frightened and ran off.’

  ‘I do not think he would have come for you either,’ she said, clearly still annoyed. ‘However, it might have worked if I had not asked Constable Sallis to look himself. I was just so worried about him.’

  ‘We all are,’ Mark said, and sighed. ‘He must be suffering and – you know that he attacked Mary Ellen?’

  ‘Yes, Angela told me that, and I knew the police would look for him – but …’ She shook her head. ‘This will get us nowhere. We can only hope he is found again before he causes more damage.’

  Mark inclined his head and left her, feeling like a scolded schoolboy, though of course she had every right to be annoyed, and he ought to have taken the time to let her know what he’d hoped for. He took a deep
breath and turned towards the sick room. Carole was on duty today and he might as well get it over in one go.

  FORTY-TWO

  ‘Have coffee, in my lunch break!’ Carole darted a look of indignation at him as they spoke in the hallway outside the sick ward, where they’d met as Carole was leaving for her break. ‘Is that all you have to offer? It’s ages since you’ve asked me out. I thought you cared about me and after … what happened between us? What is so important? You’ve been avoiding me.’

  ‘I’m sorry; it’s work,’ Mark said. He rubbed his hand across his eyes. ‘No, actually that isn’t being honest. Look, we might as well talk about this now … I’m sorry for what happened that night, but I can’t change things. I’m afraid it was just one of those things for me and I don’t want to hurt you more – so I suggest we call a halt.’

  Carole looked stunned. ‘You intend to drop me just like that? I thought you were a decent sort of man, Mark Adderbury. I don’t go to bed with just anyone …’

  ‘I never thought you did,’ he said. ‘I’m really sorry, Carole, but it’s best to be honest. I’m not in love with you. I’ve told you now so that you can find yourself someone who does love you in the way you want. I hope we shall still be friends.’

  ‘Go away,’ she said in a quiet, furious voice.

  ‘I am sorry, Carole. It wasn’t the right thing to do – but I was at a low ebb. I’m really sorry for what happened but …’

  ‘I said get out!’ She turned, eyes blazing. ‘I have to work with you so I shan’t tell you what I think of you – but don’t imagine you’re going to get away with this …’

  ‘I am sorry.’

  ‘Just get lost will you?’

  ‘Very well. Perhaps we can speak again another day – forgive me.’

  She didn’t answer and Mark walked out of the ward, feeling very embarrassed and uncomfortable. He’d let Sister Beatrice down; he’d let Angela down; he’d let Carole down; and most importantly, he’d let Terry down, because he should have moved him sooner and not let the revelation come from Sister Beatrice. Mark would have spoken to the brother and sister together – and he shouldn’t have left it so long. He wasn’t sure what he could do to repair the mistakes made, but he would try.

  Carole took a moment to recover before she carried on with her work. She’d seen this job as an opportunity to rise to the top of her profession and take over from Sister Beatrice. Not yet but in a year or so when the Warden retired – with a little help from Carole to speed her on her way. That was for the future and if she were Mark’s wife the way would be cleared for her – although if she married perhaps it would be enough to be the wife of a rich man. Either way, Mark was the key to her plans. She knew he was important here, respected by everyone and a founder member of the Board. It had seemed as if everything was going her way, but now it seemed she’d miscalculated. Angela might still have a hold over him after all.

  Furious, her mind toying with various forms of revenge, she vowed she was going to get even and not just with Mark Adderbury. Carole’s pride had been hurt and she was going to make someone else suffer. As yet she wasn’t sure what she could do, but if Mark Adderbury dismissed her as a little fool he could use and then discard, he’d discover his mistake. And if she could find the way, she would punish both Sister Beatrice and Angela Morton.

  She took the problem home with her, thinking about it as she soaked for a long time in a hot bath and then sat drinking sherry until she was sleepy and finally retired to bed. A plan was beginning to form in her mind and she already knew how to punish at least one of the three.

  Carole was still considering Mark’s punishment when she went to work the next morning. The place seemed quiet when she arrived and Michelle reminded her that Angela and some of the carers had taken all the children who weren’t at school, or who were too ill out for the day.

  ‘It’s only those in the sick bay and the isolation ward that have had to stop here, and some of them are pretty miserable over it.’

  ‘So I’m here with only Julia for the day then.’ Carole pouted at her. ‘Just my luck to get stuck with her – she’s as much good as nothing.’

  ‘I find Julia is pretty good at helping with the poorly children,’ Michelle said, standing up for her. ‘The only carer I think better is Sally Rush – and she will probably leave in the summer to train to be a nurse.’

  ‘God help the patients then,’ Carole said sourly. ‘I do hope she won’t be coming back here when she’s trained.’

  ‘Sally is a lovely person and she’ll make an excellent nurse. She can already change bandages and take temperatures, as well as dress a wound – picked it all up at night school and I lent her some textbooks. I can’t see what you have against her.’

  ‘Perhaps your standards aren’t as high as mine,’ Carole said, then walked off and left her to get on. She glanced impatiently at the little watch pinned to her starched white apron and then at the clock on the wall. Julia was already five minutes late.

  Michelle didn’t bother saying goodbye. Carole shrugged mentally. It didn’t worry her that she wasn’t popular with the other nurses or the carers. If she saw resentment in their eyes she ignored it, water off a duck’s back to her. She was in charge unless Sister Beatrice took over, and that seldom happened. Carole wouldn’t expect to make a friend of the woman she hoped to succeed one day, but she tried not to give her any reason to find fault with her work.

  Julia arrived half an hour late, her dark hair untidy, her shoes needing a polish, and babbling feeble excuses about her little sister being ill and then missing her bus.

  ‘Whatever is wrong at home, you should either be on time or find another job more suited to your capabilities. If I’d had an emergency I might not have been able to manage – and everyone else is out today.’

  ‘Yes, I know. The builders are carting things into the kitchens and bathrooms and there’s a lot of shouting going on down there.’

  ‘Thankfully, we cannot hear a word of it up here. Most of the children are not feeling too bad. We shan’t get any food brought up today, because the kitchens are closed. We have biscuits in the tin and drinks, but you can take just half an hour for lunch at one o’clock – to make up for being late. We may have to fetch some sandwiches for the children later …’

  ‘Yes, Staff Nurse,’ Julia said, looking suitably chastened. ‘I did telephone St Saviour’s earlier from the call box on the corner of our lane. I spoke to Sally and she said she would let you know that I might be late …’

  ‘Did she?’ Carole frowned at her. ‘That is typical of her carelessness. I was not given your message.’

  It was late morning when Sister Beatrice visited. She brought a tray of sandwiches and some pastries, explaining that she had purchased them from a café in the next street.

  ‘I’m sorry the kitchen is closed today. I know it is awkward for you,’ Sister Beatrice said. She saw that Julia was giving a bed bath and indicated the time to Carole. ‘Surely this should have been finished by now?’

  ‘One of our patients wet the bed and we had to change sheets. We had to fetch clean from the laundry cupboard. It is awkward with it being just us – and Julia was half an hour late this morning. Apparently, she phoned and told Sally she would be late, but she did not see fit to leave a message before she went off. I could have done with some help earlier, and the measles cases have been running temperatures …’

  ‘Yes, I do see that it has made things difficult for you with everyone being out for the day, but two of you should be able to cope.’ Sister looked annoyed. ‘Sally should have told you, though.’

  ‘She is always careless and thoughtless. I do not trust her at all.’

  ‘Really? I would have said she was an excellent worker, quite the best we’ve had here.’

  Carole did not know why she went on, because it was stupid, but her irritation made her lie. ‘Sally is rude and does not listen when I tell her to do something. I’ve had to reprimand her for shabby work more than o
nce: beds not properly made and trolleys not thoroughly cleaned.’

  ‘If her work has become slipshod I shall have a word with her,’ Sister said. ‘I shall leave you now to get on, but I’ll be here all day, mostly in my office – or downstairs keeping an eye on things. If you need help, telephone me – or send Julia to find me.’

  ‘Yes, Sister.’

  Carole wished she hadn’t been so quick to lie about Sally. Not that she cared if Sally was dismissed, but if Sister discovered that she hadn’t told the truth it would go down as a black mark against her – but there was no going back on it now. She wasn’t sure why she disliked Sally so much, but sometimes she looked at Carole oddly – as if she could see inside her head. Besides, she was as thick as thieves with Angela and that was reason enough to dislike the girl.

  ‘I’m going to speak to Sister,’ she told Julia half an hour or so later. ‘I shan’t be long – perhaps you can manage to keep an eye on things until I get back?’

  Julia looked resentful but inclined her head and Carole left her making drinks for the children. Instead of going to Sister’s office, she went immediately to Angela’s and knocked but of course no one answered. Entering, she closed the door softly behind her and went straight to Angela’s desk. Opening the drawers one by one, she searched for something she could use to discredit the Administrator, but apart from a copy of the monthly report she found nothing of any use.

  Carole thought for a moment and then extracted two pages, the second and the second from last. She looked for somewhere to hide them and then decided it would be best just to destroy them. At the very least Angela would have extra work to do; with luck she would just send the report in and get told off because it was incomplete.

  Smiling at having struck a first blow against her enemy, Carole thought about her campaign against Sister Beatrice. She’d doctored the rota but that had been discovered before it caused trouble; also she’d altered the medicine record in a couple of places where Sister had signed it, but that wasn’t enough in itself – perhaps if she took something and hid it … A smile touched her lips. She’d found it easy enough to get into Angela’s office. She would put the stolen items in one of Sister’s drawers, or hide them behind the filing cabinet … though the desk might be better, because she wanted the items found when a search was made. If Sister could be made to look as if she were getting forgetful, the Board would soon give her the push and that would leave Carole as the most senior nurse and with a good chance of getting what she wanted. Especially if Mark believed he owed her something …