by Cathy Sharp
‘I propose to tell you all exactly why I asked for the delay,’ Mark said and rose to his feet. ‘Mr Chairman, Bishop, honourable members … I would beg your indulgence while I tell you a story—’
‘Can’t we get to the vote?’ Henry Arnold asked. ‘I don’t have all day to waste.’
‘I shan’t keep you too long,’ Mark smiled at everyone else but didn’t look directly at Mr Arnold. ‘I’ve been investigating the offer made for our property at Halfpenny Street … and I have discovered two things—’
‘I fail to see what this business has to do with the land and the new building proposed,’ Henry Arnold interjected tetchily.
‘Give Adderbury a chance and you will,’ the Bishop said, frowning at the interruption.
‘One day, I hope that St Saviour’s will move to a splendid new home,’ Mark said and smiled easily at Angela. ‘Accommodation for up to two hundred children, a playing field, sports hall and perhaps even a small swimming pool. However, that will not be for some years—’
‘I’m afraid I cannot undertake to hold my offer open for years, Adderbury.’
‘Well, I dare say the Board won’t wish you to, once they hear what I have to say.’ Mark cleared his throat. ‘It appears that the premises we occupy in Halfpenny Street are at the centre of a large area that is being considered for demolition so that the council can build new housing and shopping facilities. The council owns some derelict properties in the district, with the rest being owned by private individuals and businesses – of which we are one. It seems that the land we occupy is key to the major development that is under consideration. I’ve been told that if we refuse there are other owners who will also hold out, which could put the whole project in jeopardy.’
‘Have you considered that the council might put an order on St Saviour’s, forcing you to sell?’ Henry Arnold said.
‘You have clearly gone into this in detail,’ Mark replied as the room fell silent. ‘But that is only to be expected, given that you own quite a few buildings in the area which would be sold under compulsory purchase. I imagine you stand to gain a great deal of money if the proposals go through … and I believe you also have a promise on the contract to carry out the rebuilding, which would be worth a huge amount of money for your company, and yourself—’
‘I hardly think that is your affair!’ Henry Arnold glared at him furiously. ‘You would be fools to turn down such an offer.’
‘That decision must be put to the vote, but I am making my opposition known now both on the grounds that you have a conflict of interest and because this home and the other historic buildings in the area need to be preserved – and I would like to say that I have alternative plans to put to the Board concerning our future …’
‘Perhaps I might have a word …’ the Bishop rose to his feet and Mark sat down. ‘Sister Beatrice only heard of the offer two days ago and she immediately brought something to my attention that I wasn’t fully acquainted with …’ He smiled at Sister Beatrice, who remained seated, her expression giving nothing away. ‘As it turns out, the land on which St Saviour’s was built many years ago belonged to the Church and there is a significant clause in the deeds which states the buildings on the said land may only be used for certain purposes – and that does not include anything of a commercial nature. St Saviour’s was, as some of you may know, a grand private house and then it became a hospital for fever patients. We bought it cheaply, in a dilapidated condition, partly because of the clause—’
‘An outdated covenant that could be overturned in the courts by any lawyer worth his salt!’ Henry Arnold blustered.
‘Possibly,’ the Bishop agreed. ‘However, in the circumstances, I could not agree to the proposals on the table. I do not believe we are in a position to purchase and build a country house without the sale of Halfpenny Street – and therefore I think we should carry on as we are until some future date when things seem more propitious for our eventual move.’
‘Don’t you see what a chance this is for your charity? You could get enough out of this to cover the building of a new home for the kids and money in the bank. I don’t see what difference it makes if there is an old covenant …’
‘Perhaps you don’t, sir,’ the Bishop said mildly with a faint lift of his brows. ‘It is an ethical matter and one of conscience, I believe.’
‘That’s damned insulting!’ Henry Arnold’s voice was sharp and cold. ‘This is a business matter, and in business everyone looks out for themselves. No wonder you’re forever in debt at St Saviour’s, and likely to remain so unless you start to live in the real world. I brought you a fantastic deal and if you let some stupid covenant stand in your way I can only think you have no sense of reality. You could make a donation to the Church, if that eases your conscience …’
‘For my part I consider the matter closed, but we’ll take a vote on it if you wish …’ He looked round the table. ‘Is anyone in favour of accepting this deal?’ Not one hand was raised other than Henry Arnold’s. ‘It would seem that you are outvoted, Mr Arnold. I am sorry, but we do not wish to accept your offer.’
‘Fools, damned fools!’ Henry Arnold spluttered, furious at the murmur of approval from the rest of the Board. ‘In the circumstances I have no wish to be associated with your charity and I resign my seat. However, I do not intend to leave it there. The council may very well put a compulsory purchase on your property and any others that stand in the way of progress. Good day.’
There was silence as he left the room, and then the Bishop cleared his throat. ‘Never liked the fellow. Well, Adderbury, perhaps now you can tell us what you have in mind?’
‘I’ve been wondering if we might raise funds to buy a holiday cottage where the children can take turns to have a week or two at the sea. It would bridge the gap until we can build the substantial new home we all want and give our children the fresh air and excitement of visiting the sea.’
‘I believe we ought to take a vote on that suggestion,’ the Bishop said, and a show of hands duly approved the proposal. ‘That seems to be agreed. No doubt you will make inquiries, Adderbury, and when we have the funds we shall progress along the lines you’ve drawn.’
‘As a matter of fact, I have been talking to someone,’ Mark said. ‘He is an old friend of my father and we recently met at a function we both attended. Sir Martin Harkness is a rich man but childless, and most of what he owns will go to his nephew. He was, however, very interested when I mentioned that I hoped to get the children of St Saviour’s away from London for some fresh air. Apparently he owns a cottage in Old Hunstanton, Norfolk. Nothing has been agreed as yet, but I believe he would sell it to us very cheaply if not actually make us a present of it.’
‘That is extraordinarily generous, if he means it.’
‘We spoke last night and he confirmed that he was willing to complete the exchange if we wished to accept. He has offered us the cottage for fifty pounds – but I believe it will need some renovation. If the Board agrees, I will seek estimates as to the cost of getting the place into reasonable order.’
‘And where is the money to come from?’ Sister Beatrice asked. ‘What funds we have are needed for the running of the home we have – how are we to afford this wonderful holiday cottage?’
‘Yes, Sister has a point,’ the Bishop said, looking at Mark.
‘I shall be funding some of it myself. The repairs and furnishings will be my contribution to this project. As to the rest, I’m going to try to take our fundraising countrywide, much as Barnardo’s do. I cannot see why we shouldn’t, as a fully registered charity, collect on a much larger scale, rather than confining our appeals to private sources as we have in the past.’
‘I have been thinking along the same lines,’ Angela said. ‘I have several rather daring ideas for fundraising for the Christmas treats this year – and I don’t see why we shouldn’t continue to innovate when it comes to supporting both St Saviour’s and the holiday cottage. Halfpenny Street is our main concern, of cou
rse, but I believe the fundraising will continue to support our needs there for some years to come. I had an inquiry only yesterday from a large firm with branches all over the country, asking me what they could do to support us.’
‘As long as St Saviour’s does not suffer, I am content,’ Sister Beatrice said.
Angela met Sister’s gaze and a nod passed between them. The Chairman called the meeting to order and it was formally closed. As everyone rose to leave, Sister Beatrice touched Angela on the arm.
‘I shall be back in my office tomorrow,’ she said. ‘I shall want a full report to bring me up to date, Angela.’
‘I’ll have it on your desk first thing,’ Angela promised. ‘I’m so glad you’re ready to come back to us, Sister.’
‘I’ve been ready for weeks, but the doctors would not agree. However, I feel much better and eager to get back to work.’
‘I can only say how glad I am. In fact, there is a matter I need to discuss with you as soon as possible.’
Sister Beatrice inclined her head, and said nothing, but Angela saw the smile of satisfaction on her face as she turned away. A feeling of peace descended on Angela. It was good to have the determined Sister Beatrice back at the helm; much as she loved St Saviour’s and its children, there were a few personal issues that needed Angela’s immediate attention …
‘Why didn’t you tell me what was going on?’ Angela asked as Mark drove her back to her flat after the meeting. ‘I couldn’t believe it when you told us how much Henry Arnold stood to gain if that deal had gone through.’
‘Your instincts about his motives were correct from the start, Angela. Had he persuaded us to go ahead, he stood to gain thousands of pounds, one way or another.’
‘Do you think the council will try to force the sale?’
‘Why should they? Large parts of London need renovation. No, they’ll simply take their plans elsewhere, especially if the Church are opposed to the Halfpenny Street development.’
‘Henry Arnold was very angry. I think you’ve made an enemy, Mark.’
‘Men of that ilk do not frighten me,’ Mark shrugged her concern off. ‘I am not interested in his world of big business, Angela. In my own sphere I have the respect of my colleagues; whatever Arnold chooses to say or do is a matter of indifference to me.’
‘He told me you were facing an inquiry over Terry’s attack on Sister Beatrice – he tried to suggest you were at fault. That was why I was forced to take advice from Mr Yarwood on Sarah’s behalf …’
‘Yes, there was a hearing.’ Mark frowned. ‘I am very aware that I may have delayed too long in the matter, and I told the hearing of my doubts and regrets. It was decided that I had acted in the child’s best interests and that the outcome was unfortunate … it should not have happened, but no one could have foreseen it.’
‘You didn’t tell me any of this,’ she said, looking at him doubtfully. ‘Didn’t you trust me?’
‘You’ve had enough to worry over, without my adding to your concerns,’ he said and touched her cheek. ‘I still intend to talk to Nancy about it one day. If any compensation is due, it is due to her – and I’d like to help her get started in life if at any time she chooses to leave St Saviour’s.’
‘That would be a nice thing to do,’ Angela said. ‘Wait for a while, Mark. She’s only just ready to leave school and for the moment she’s happy where she is – but one day she might want to do something else, like having a place of her own, and then perhaps we could help her.’
‘Yes, I think we should put all this other business out of our minds,’ Mark said. ‘Unfortunately, I’ve got a lot on and I have to leave London for a while, but when I get back we must spend some time together, Angela.’
‘Yes, that’s what I want too …’
‘Dearest Angela,’ Mark said and bent his head to kiss her softly on the lips. ‘Please hold that thought. I have to go now, but I will telephone you and we’ll go out and then, after Christmas we’ll go abroad for a few days … perhaps skiing, if you would like that?’
‘That sounds wonderful,’ Angela agreed and reached up to kiss him on the mouth. For a moment he held her and her heart soared. She felt as if she had come home after a long and stormy journey. ‘Oh, Mark, I hope you know how much you mean to me …’ A shaky sob escaped her. ‘I’ve been so lonely for you.’
‘Have you, my love?’ He smiled, holding her pressed tightly against him and his kiss this time was very different, strong and passionate, filled with promise of the love to come between them. ‘Then you’ve been feeling some of my despair; there were times when I thought you would never love me the way I love you …’
‘What a pair of idiots,’ she said, a little breathlessly.
‘We’re both so committed to our work that our feelings get brushed under the carpet, but after Christmas we’ll make time just for us, Angela.’
‘Promise?’ she asked and looked at him, almost shy as she saw the burning heat in his eyes.
‘Promise,’ he said, kissed her once more in a way that nearly tore her heart from her body and then left …
THIRTY-SIX
‘Nan,’ Wendy approached the head carer as she was leaving her room the following afternoon. ‘I was hoping I’d catch you.’
‘Is something wrong?’ Nan asked. ‘Has Tilly done something foolish? She has a good heart but she isn’t used to helping on the sick ward yet.’
‘Tilly’s fine – Michelle and I will teach her all she needs to know. I was wondering …’ Wendy took a deep breath, then, ‘I’ve got two tickets for the theatre – it’s a musical. I wondered if you might like to come with me.’
‘Me?’ Nan looked surprised. ‘Are you sure you wouldn’t prefer to go with one of the other nurses – a girl of your own age?’
‘I’ve been to the flicks with Michelle once, and no doubt I’ll go out with her and some of the others now and then – but I thought it might be nice to get to know you.’ Wendy’s cheeks were turning pink. ‘That is, if you were interested?’
‘Well, that’s very nice of you, Wendy. I should like to come if I can. When are the tickets for?’
‘This Saturday. I think that’s your night off, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, and my friend Eddie won’t be coming round this weekend, so I’d love to come, Wendy.’
‘I’m so pleased,’ Wendy said. ‘It takes a while to make friends when you move your job. I didn’t want to keep my mother’s flat on after she died, and the Nurses’ Home is very nice, but it does get a bit confining always in one room. You have to get out sometimes.’
‘You must join some clubs,’ Nan advised her, then nodded her head. ‘I do know how you’re feeling, Wendy. When my home was bombed I lived in one room until the house I was staying at got bombed as well. I was lucky enough not to be at either place when it happened or I shouldn’t be here to tell the tale – but then I was allocated one of the new prefabs. It has two bedrooms, so my daughter could come home and stay if she wished …’ Nan sighed. ‘I don’t think she ever will, because she’s happy where she is – so perhaps I should take a lodger.’
‘It’s awful when you lose people you care for, isn’t it?’ Wendy smiled in sympathy. ‘I lost my mother to illness and my boyfriend to the war.’
Nan hesitated, then, ‘Why don’t you come to tea at mine on Saturday afternoon? We can have a good chat and then go on to the theatre later.’
‘Oh, that would be lovely,’ Wendy said. ‘I suppose I ought to get on. I promised Samantha and Sarah that I would take them to the park for half an hour if it was fine this evening and I don’t want to let them down.’
‘You’re fond of the twins, I think?’
‘Yes, particularly Sarah,’ Wendy sighed. ‘Their aunt is coming here tomorrow to see them and I know Samantha is fretting over it. She thinks it will be like it was with her father’s sister.’
‘I’m sure the Welfare people have checked Madame Bernard out properly. They wouldn’t make the same mistake again.’ Nan fro
wned, then, ‘I hope you asked Sister if it was all right to take the twins out to the park this evening? Sister doesn’t like the children being taken anywhere unless we know.’
‘Yes, I did ask and Sister said yes, provided I thought I could cope. It’s only half an hour in the park …’
‘Yes, I’m sure that will be good for them,’ Nan smiled. ‘Well, off you go then and enjoy yourself …’
‘I shall look forward to Saturday,’ Wendy said and walked off.
Nan’s eyes followed the nurse. Wendy had just confirmed her suspicions. The girl had no family and was lonely. Nan could understand why she wanted to make friends, and why she’d become attached to the twins. While there was nothing wrong in Wendy becoming fond of the children, Nan could only hope that she wouldn’t let herself care too much. She’d seen children like Sarah before; beautiful, loving and fragile. Sarah had been ill with what would probably have been merely a slight chill in a sturdier child. If anything were to happen to her, it might break the young nurse’s heart – and by the sound of it, she’d had her heart broken more than once.
Nan was pleased that Wendy had asked her to the theatre. She’d been considering whether she should ask the girl to tea, because her intuition had told her that Wendy was lonely; it was a look in the eyes, something you became more aware of with age.
Well, Wendy had invited her to the theatre and she’d invited her to tea. It was a start, and if they got on well together … Nan had that spare room and she’d accepted that Maisie, or Sister Mary, as she was now, was never coming home. She wasn’t sure whether she wanted a permanent lodger, but she had felt a bit lonely herself over the years …
She’d wait a while before she jumped in feet first again, but if Wendy proved to be the lovely girl she seemed to be – well, what would be wrong with getting closer to her?
Nan had always longed for more children, and Wendy had lost her mother. A smile touched Nan’s mouth as she set out to begin her inspection of the wards. It would be her last night on duty for a while, because Beatrice would take her share of the night watch now that she was better – back to her old self, in fact.
