Christmas for the Halfpenny Orphans

by Cathy Sharp

  She liked Eric and she liked Richard – but she wasn’t sure that she wanted to go steady with anyone … In her experience, getting to like someone too much could only lead to heartbreak.

  ‘I’m going to visit Matty this evening and take him some comics and a few grapes, not that he will be able to eat them,’ Michelle told Wendy the following day. ‘If he’s feeling sick all the time I think he will probably leave them – but I wanted him to feel that someone cares.’

  ‘I’ve got the morning off tomorrow, so I’ll go,’ Wendy said. ‘I’ll take him a sherbet dip – he used to love those – and I’ll buy him a puzzle book too.’

  ‘That will please him …’ Michelle hesitated, then, ‘How do you feel about going out to the flicks when we both have a free evening? Paula will start the evening shifts next week.’

  ‘I’d love to go on a Thursday, if that suits?’

  ‘Great. I’ll look forward to it.’

  ‘I’ll be sure to take my turn visiting Matty. It’s awful having to go through that kind of treatment with no one to visit you. Timmy Bent was telling me about the time he was in the hospital and his mum could only come once or twice a week, because she wasn’t well. He’s so much happier now that he’s at St Saviour’s – and Billy has taken him under his wing. I saw Billy pushing his chair down to the park this afternoon. When I asked what he was doing, he said it was a special event for his school – a special sports day or something.’

  ‘Oh well, as long as he doesn’t tip him out of the chair – as he did Marion when her leg was still sore.’

  ‘Yes, I heard about that, but Billy is a lot more sensible these days,’ Wendy said. ‘I’d best get on with the drinks and medicines now.’

  ‘I’d better be off too. I’ll have to change buses a couple of times to get to Great Ormond Street and I want to be there for the start of visiting hours.’

  Michelle said goodbye to her colleague, collected her coat and went down the stairs. As she left St Saviour’s, she saw Eric waiting for her. He was leaning against a wall, smoking, but he put the cigarette out as he saw her and came to greet her. His open and honest face looked uncertain, but it was hard to resist and Michelle found herself smiling.

  ‘Hullo, Michelle, I thought I might catch you. I don’t suppose you feel like coming out with me somewhere?’

  ‘I’m visiting a small boy in hospital,’ Michelle said. ‘He has no family and doesn’t get many visitors. He’s recently had an operation so I think he will be feeling pretty rotten. If you want to come with me, I’ll go for a drink afterwards, if you like?’

  Eric’s face lit up. ‘’Course I’ll come. What’s wrong with him?’

  ‘He had a growth removed from his spine. They aren’t sure whether it was malignant – and even if it was benign, he could have damage to his nervous system and might end up in a wheelchair.’

  ‘Poor little blighter,’ Eric said instantly. ‘I’ve got a bar of chocolate in my pocket. I was going to give it to me sister’s kids, but they can wait for next time. Is he allowed sweets?’

  ‘I imagine so, if he can keep them down. We’ll ask when we get there,’ Michelle said. ‘I think he might be pleased to see you. His dad was a soldier, killed in the war like so many others – and his mum died in an air raid; he doesn’t have anyone of his own.’

  ‘Rotten buggers, those Germans,’ Eric said. ‘If Hitler wasn’t already dead I’d strangle the blighter with me bare hands.’

  ‘Eric!’ Michelle shook her head at him, but she couldn’t help smiling. ‘I think we did some pretty dreadful things at the end of the war ourselves … but then, war is horrible altogether. I don’t know why you want to be a soldier now the war’s over.’

  ‘I thought it was a safe bet for a job,’ Eric said, ‘but I’m a trained mechanic. I’ve been thinking of giving up next year. I signed on until the end of ’49 and then it’s up to me whether I carry on.’

  ‘Would you like to work in London?’ Michelle asked, looking at him curiously.

  ‘I’d work anywhere if it meant you would marry me, Michelle. Surely you know you only have to give me the nod and I’ll do whatever you want.’

  ‘Eric, I’ve never said— you know it’s friends, nothing more.’

  ‘I know you’ve been let down bad,’ he said, catching her arm and swinging her round to face him. Her heart quickened as she saw the passion in his face. ‘I swear I’d never let you down, Chelle. I love you. I’d be good to you, if you’d give me the chance.’

  ‘Oh, Eric, you know I like you – and thanks for asking me, more than once!’ Michelle said and smiled at him. ‘Look, this is our bus coming. I know I can trust you – but don’t push me and don’t expect too much. I’m not sure what I want yet.’

  ‘I’m patient, I’ll wait,’ Eric said, ‘but I’d rather you tell me if I’ve got no chance. If there’s another bloke … well, I’d rather you told me straight.’

  She jumped on the bus and found two seats at the front. Eric came to sit beside her, and when the conductor churned out two tickets he paid the fare. Michelle sat in silence for a moment, then, ‘You’re a lovely bloke, Eric, and perhaps if we do get married it might work – but I’m not sure yet. There is someone else I like – he’s a doctor – but I can’t be sure of my feelings about him either. I know it isn’t fair, but I didn’t think I’d ever get over what happened before – my heart was broken and I don’t want that to go through that again; and I don’t want to break your heart, Eric. I’m not that sort of girl. I’ll have to be sure … you said you wanted me to tell you straight.’

  ‘Look, I’ve got a year before I can leave the Army,’ Eric said. ‘Take your time, love. I saw you with him so I’ve told you how I feel; maybe if he’s a doctor you’d be better off with a man like that – but I want you to know that I love you. I’ll always be around, whenever you need me.’

  ‘Thank you, Eric,’ Michelle said, finding that she meant it. She smiled at him again. ‘I appreciate you coming with me to visit Matty. I think he liked Sally best of all the carers and nurses – she was the one who looked after him before he was sick. The carers are closer to the children sometimes, because they stand in for a mother with those who need it, but I can’t bear to think of him going through so much and no one there to comfort him – Sally is doing her nursing training, so she won’t have much time for visiting anyone.’

  ‘I’ve got a few days’ leave,’ Eric said. ‘I’ll ask if it’s all right for me to visit – and I’ll go in as often as they let me while I’m home. But we’ll have to see if he likes me first …’

  Michelle could tell that Eric would make a great father. She felt warmed as she remembered the previous evening and their visit to Matty. He’d been in a small ward with two other children, both of whom had mothers and fathers visiting. Matty’s face had lit up when he saw them come in and realised that he had visitors too. He was delighted with his gifts, especially the chocolate, and he’d sucked a tiny piece. Apparently, he’d been sick earlier but was feeling better at the moment, though he’d been told he had to lay straight and not move too much, and he was finding that irksome.

  Eric had got on with him instantly. Matty had wanted to know what regiment he was in and whether he’d been in the war. Eric told him that he’d joined up towards the end and had been one of the invading forces that drove through Germany when the enemy was retreating.

  ‘Did yer give them what for?’ Matty asked eagerly. ‘Me dad were killed at Dunkirk. One of the boats took him off, but he was wounded bad and me ma said he died in the ’ospital in Portsmouth.’ Tears gathered in Matty’s eyes. ‘Me ma weren’t never the same after Dad died – and then she went too, in a bombing raid.’

  ‘I’m sorry about your dad and your mum, Matty,’ Eric said. ‘A lot of our brave soldiers were killed that day at Dunkirk.’

  ‘I’m goin’ ter be a soldier one day,’ Matty said, and then his face clouded. ‘If they ever let me out of this bloomin’ place.’

  ‘You’l
l come back to us when you’re better, Matty,’ Michelle told him. ‘It won’t be for ever, I promise you.’

  ‘Will you come and visit me again?’ Matty was looking at Eric as he spoke. ‘The other kids have families, but I’ve got no one.’

  ‘No uncles or aunts?’ Eric asked, and the boy shook his head. ‘Well, then, why don’t I be your uncle? I can visit you here, bring you things – and when you’re well again, I’ll still visit you at St Saviour’s. When I’m home on leave, we can go to the zoo – or to watch the guard changing at Buckingham Palace.’

  ‘Would you take me there when I’m better?’ Matty’s face lit up. ‘My dad said only the best soldiers get to be the guards at the palace.’

  ‘Well, they’re good at drilling and marching,’ Eric said. ‘Your dad was a real soldier. He went to war to defend his country, Matty. You can’t get braver or better than that.’

  ‘Dad was going to get a medal, but it never arrived – at least, the house was bombed and me ma …’ Tears trickled down his cheeks.

  ‘I tell you what, I bet they don’t know where to send that medal,’ Eric said. ‘I’ll ask someone about it. If your dad won a medal, it should be yours, Matty. I’m going to make sure you get it.’

  Once again, Matty’s face lit up like a candle. He talked to Eric most of the time and when the ward sister arrived and told them it was time to go, Matty caught hold of Eric’s sleeve.

  ‘You will come again?’

  ‘Cross me heart and hope to die if I tell a lie,’ Eric said and grinned. ‘You won’t get rid of me now, mate – and when I’m away I’ll write to you and you can write back. Promise now! I want proper letters telling me what you’re up to, Matty.’

  Matty had let him go then. His eyes followed them down the ward and he waved when Eric turned and gave him the thumbs up. Outside the ward, one of the nurses spoke to them.

  ‘You’ve cheered him up a great deal. The sick children in our wards do need parental visits to help them through what is a dreadful experience for anyone.’

  ‘I’m not a relation,’ Eric said. ‘But I’ve taken to Matty and I should like to visit while I’m on leave, and to bring him things. What can he have?’

  ‘We make no restrictions on what our children can have, but he may not be able to eat certain foods if he’s having treatment. If you can bring some lemonade for him, please do. Lemonade does help them when they are feeling sick. Most of the parents bring that – and perhaps an ice lolly. It depends on what sort of treatment he is going to need. He was a bit better tonight; it may not always be that way.’

  ‘Was the growth malignant then?’ Michelle asked. ‘Will he have to have treatment for cancer?’

  ‘We expect the results tomorrow,’ the nurse told them. ‘I was told that it looked as if he may have been lucky – but there is still the other question …’

  ‘Of whether or not he will be able to walk again.’ Michelle bit her lip. ‘He’s going to be devastated if he can’t; he’s been such an active child.’

  ‘Well, I’m sure the doctors have done their best.’

  ‘I’m sure they have,’ Eric said. ‘Don’t worry, Nurse. We’ll be visiting – if you’re happy for me to visit. I’d like to be his friend.’

  ‘Well, if you and your girlfriend visit, I’m sure that will be fine – and yes, I am certain it will do him good to know he has a friend he can rely on.’

  ‘Thank you, Nurse. I’ll be in again tomorrow …’

  ‘That was very nice of you, Eric,’ Michelle said as they walked to the bus stop. It had turned much cooler now and she shivered. ‘Matty really took to you.’

  ‘He’s a brave lad,’ Eric said. ‘I liked him – and I’m going to make sure he gets his dad’s medal.’

  ‘You’re taking on a commitment for life,’ Michelle said. ‘Once you become his adopted uncle, as you suggested, he will expect you to keep it up.’

  ‘Well, why not?’ Eric grinned confidently. ‘I like kids. I want plenty of my own – and I dare say there would always be room for another nephew round my house.’

  Michelle smiled and nodded. She’d liked the way Eric talked to the boy – not as a soldier who was doing a favour to a sick child, but as a favourite uncle or a big brother might. Matty had clung to his every word and she’d seen the way his eyes lit up when Eric made him promise to write to him when he was away.

  It was what all their kids needed at St Saviour’s: someone to cling to when things were bad, and someone to have fun with when they were good. Without love, life could be pretty bleak, Michelle realised. She glanced at her companion sideways, and then hugged his arm as they walked briskly to keep warm.

  She liked it that Eric had given hope to a child who had so little to anticipate. If Matty had his father’s medal, it might give him something to look up to – and that could only help him to endure whatever happened to him …

  THIRTY

  Hearing a loud cry from the kitchen next morning, Michelle hurried downstairs. Her mother was holding an opened letter in her hand and looking stunned.

  ‘What is it – is it bad news about Dad’s tests?’

  ‘No, he had the all clear from Dr Kent yesterday – didn’t the doctor tell you? I was sure you’d see him at work, and you were so late in last night I didn’t get a chance to tell you …’

  ‘No; the doctor would tell you and Dad first – so what’s wrong?’

  ‘It’s from Mrs Morton – she’s written to tell us that your father has been given the job as caretaker. It seems that there were three who applied for the job, but at the interviews, they considered your father by far the best candidate. Well, that’s a feather in his cap and no mistake!’

  ‘Oh, Mum,’ Michelle cried and hugged her. ‘We hadn’t heard anything and I thought someone else must have got it – but this is wonderful.’

  ‘Yes, it is,’ her mother said, but still looked slightly stunned. ‘To tell you the truth, I never expected it when you told me he’d got that interview, and he never said a word when he came home. I thought it was no good. It looks as if our luck has turned.’

  ‘Yes, particularly if the council picks us for a new flat,’ Michelle said. ‘I don’t mind moving out into the suburbs if it means we get a new house.’

  ‘I’ve given up on that.’ Mrs Morris sat down at the table and looked about her. ‘I’m not sure I’d want to move; this has been our home since we married.’

  ‘But a new council flat would be better, and there’s a couple empty in that block they built in Bethnal Green.’ Michelle leant over to kiss her on the cheek. ‘I may be late home again this evening, Mum.’

  ‘Going to visit that sick child again – or are you going out with Eric? He’s a decent lad, Michelle. Why don’t you bring him home for tea one day, love?’

  ‘I’m not sure how long a leave he has,’ Michelle prevaricated. ‘Besides, he’s only a friend, Mum.’

  ‘That’s what you always say.’ Her mother shook her head. ‘It’s time you thought of settling down, Michelle. I want some grandchildren before I get too old to enjoy them!’

  ‘Mum, you’ve got years left yet! And so have I.’

  ‘Yes, but if you’re not careful they will slip away and you won’t know what’s happened,’ Mrs Morris said. ‘Please go and thank Mrs Morton for me, Michelle. It was ever so good of her to put a word in for us.’

  ‘Dad must have impressed the Board,’ Michelle said. ‘He got the job on merit, Mum, and don’t you forget it – but I shall thank her.’

  ‘You’d best get off then. You don’t want to be late for work – and don’t forget to ask that nice young Eric of yours for tea one day.’

  Michelle was thoughtful as she left the house and then ran to catch her bus as it pulled up at the stop. Perhaps her mother was right – perhaps it was time she started to think about the future …

  Angela was making notes on the campaign she intended to hold for St Saviour’s before Christmas. The Board had told her she could spend a certain amoun
t on advertising and she’d made a heading on her page:

  CHRISTMAS ORPHANS’ CAMPAIGN

  Flag Day or collecting envelopes? How could we distribute the envelopes countrywide? Picture of orphans in the paper or …

  As yet she hadn’t got much further. She was contemplating something different, perhaps a traditional Christmas story the children could act out, with a few carols at the end, with tickets on sale to their supporters or even the general public. Father Joseph would help with the play, and she could ask Nan and the carers to organise teas and perhaps a raffle – or perhaps that would be better at some other function. Maybe she could hold a Tombola evening or a themed fête – or would that clash with the church’s own Christmas functions?

  Her pen was poised over the paper when the telephone rang. She reached for it absent-mindedly, ‘Yes, Angela Morton here …’

  ‘Angela, this is Mark. I have a couple of tickets for the ballet this Friday evening. It’s Swan Lake and I wondered if you would like to come?’

  ‘I should love to, Mark. I really enjoy that particular ballet,’ she said. ‘I’ve been making notes about Christmas. I know it’s only November, but time slips away and I’ve decided to put on a nativity play before the carols and the party we spoke about. I’ve also managed to secure a good discount on tickets for the Christmas pantomime this year – it’s Mother Goose …’

  ‘For all the children, as we discussed?’

  ‘Yes, and six adults – though we’ll have to pay full price for our tickets.’

  ‘Well, that’s pretty good I think,’ Mark said. ‘I’ll look forward to the ballet then, Angela. We’ll have supper afterwards.’

  ‘Yes, that sounds wonderful.’

  ‘Oh, and I thought you’d like to know that your donation was well received and everyone is looking forward to having you on the Board – a fresh eye and all that …’