Christmas for the Halfpenny Orphans

by Cathy Sharp

  Nan felt a warm contentment inside. She’d been so worried when Beatrice had that dreadful infection. For a time she’d been afraid that her old friend might never return to St Saviour’s, but she was back now and that had set Nan’s mind at rest. Angela was a good Administrator and she did a lot for the children, but in Nan’s opinion Beatrice was the heart of their little family and they’d missed her too much …

  She saw Staff Nurse Michelle leaving the sick room and smiled at her.

  ‘Off home, Nurse?’

  ‘Not yet. I’m visiting Matty at the hospital first. He was having more treatment on his spine today and he’ll need a friendly face …’

  ‘Yes, poor boy,’ Nan said, ‘but when I was young he probably wouldn’t have had a chance, Michelle. At least they’ve removed the growth and it wasn’t malignant. We must pray that he will be able to walk again soon. Give him my love and tell him we’re all thinking of him.’

  ‘Yes, I shall,’ Michelle promised. ‘Goodnight, Nan.’

  ‘May I speak with you, Miss Morris?’ The sister in charge of Matty’s ward came up to Michelle as she was leaving after the visit. The child had tried to respond to her, but he’d looked wan and listless, and he’d only sucked his ice lolly a couple of times before giving it to her to throw away. ‘I know you’re busy, but this concerns Matty and I need to know your thoughts on his future.’

  ‘Yes, of course, Sister Norton,’ Michelle said. ‘I’m going home but there’s no rush.’

  ‘It will only take a few minutes of your time,’ Sister said, leading the way into office. ‘Please sit down. I can offer you a glass of sherry if you would care for it?’

  ‘No thank you,’ Michelle said, aware that she was being honoured but unsure why. ‘Matty isn’t any worse, is he? He seemed very down this evening.’

  ‘It’s the soreness in his back, because we’ve been giving him exercises. He’ll feel better tomorrow. For the moment he seems to be making good progress.’

  ‘For the moment – what does that mean?’

  ‘At this time we are not sure whether he will recover the full use of his legs,’ Sister Norton said, looking grave. ‘While we have observed a marked improvement in Matty’s general condition, we’re worried by his apathy. Since his uncle has stopped coming to see him he seems very down and we were wondering what you were planning for the future.’

  ‘I’m not sure what you’re saying? He will return to us at St Saviour’s, of course.’ Michelle wondered what was coming next when she noticed the speculative look in Sister Norton’s eyes.

  ‘I’m not sure that is the best outcome for Matty, Miss Morris. The boy looks forward to the letters, cards and small gifts his uncle sends him. He told the doctors that he was going to live with his uncle and aunt, and his uncle has promised to show him the changing of the guard at Buckingham Palace, take him to football matches, and teach him to box …’

  ‘Matty told the doctors that?’ Michelle was shocked. She didn’t think Eric would have promised the child he would live with him. ‘Eric is in the army for another year. He couldn’t have the boy to live with him in the meantime, and even then it wouldn’t be suitable: Eric isn’t married.’

  ‘Is he your fiancé? We always find that sick children like Matty respond and recover best when they are part of a loving home. Are you and Sergeant Wright intending to marry? If so, it offers the chance for Matty to live with you, doesn’t it?’

  Michelle hesitated. One part of her wanted to tell Sister Norton it was none of her business, but she knew it was; Matty’s future happiness and wellbeing was at stake, and she’d invited the nurse’s outspokenness by choosing to visit regularly and bringing Eric when he was on leave.

  ‘Eric and I are very good friends,’ Michelle said. ‘Nothing has been decided yet. If Matty is ready to leave hospital he would return to St Saviour’s – at least for the present.’

  ‘Yes, I thought that was the case – but is it possible that you would consider taking him into your home one day?’

  ‘Yes,’ Michelle said without thinking. She realised that Sister Norton needed a positive answer and the idea that they could offer Matty hope and be a real family seemed almost possible. ‘If Eric and I were to marry, I believe we should very likely apply for custody of Matty. Adopt him as our own. I know he adores Eric.’

  ‘Yes, he does. We hear of nothing but his uncle these days, Miss Morris. He sometimes speaks of you or another nurse who visits him – but the only one who truly matters is Sergeant Wright.’

  ‘They get on very well,’ Michelle said, realising that Sister Norton thought Eric was his real uncle rather than merely an adopted one. Eric had obviously allowed the nurses and doctors to believe he was Matty’s uncle and there was no harm in it. She thought of what marriage to Eric would mean and she felt a tingle at the thought of being intimate with him. Eric never made any secret of his desire to make love to her, though to give him his credit he hadn’t gone beyond a kiss or two. Eric had laughed when Michelle pushed him away after a passionate kiss and told her there was no need to worry, because he was saving himself for marriage. The wicked gleam in his eyes told her he was teasing her, but she was glad that he was prepared to be patient.

  Michelle also knew that her attitude towards Eric had changed since the night she’d brought him to see Matty. Whereas before she’d seen him just as the tough East Ender, who had made the Army his career, she now saw a generous caring man who wanted kids and a home – which, she’d begun to understand, were the things she really wanted deep down. Not that she would give up her nursing; she might have to for a while if she had kids of her own, but it was something you never lost – a job you could go back to when the children were older, if the hospital would take you on. She recalled her wandering thoughts, realising that Sister Norton was speaking.

  ‘Thank you, Miss Morris. Matty isn’t quite ready to leave us. We are going to keep him here for some time yet, and then I imagine he will come back to St Saviour’s – until your happy event. However, we should like to think that eventually he will live with his uncle. It will be a long slow job, my dear, and as a nurse you understand what he will need …’

  Michelle didn’t contradict her. She knew it was best to be careful, because Matty had become very fond of Eric and if the doctors thought he was not going to keep up the care and friendship he’d offered, the child might be moved away from his influence – and that would break Matty’s heart. He truly loved his adopted uncle and Michelle believed Eric was fond of him. It might be possible to adopt the boy properly if …

  Her mind was churning with all kinds of thoughts as she walked home. It was a lovely mild night for the time of year and Michelle walked past the river, watching the boats chugging up and down the sluggish and rather smelly water, not wanting to go home at once. She knew Eric wanted to marry her. He’d promised to leave the army next year and find work in London if she became his wife.

  For a while Michelle had felt confused; torn between two men that she liked, her resolution not to let another man into her heart had wavered. She’d thought that nursing children would be enough – that she did not need a home of her own or children and a husband, but now she wasn’t sure.

  What about Richard? She was attracted to him, but kept getting mixed signals from him. He’d seemed to take an interest in her, but he hadn’t been the same since that visit to the museum. She’d met him once when she was leaving St Saviour’s, but apart from a brief inquiry about Matty and her parents, he’d had nothing to say to her.

  If she wanted to get married, she should talk to Eric and discover his feelings about adopting Matty. If Eric was in favour, he would find them a house then Matty could live with them. He could go to his school with the other St Saviour’s kids and come back there for his tea when she was working, and afterwards Michelle would take him home. She would be able to give him the physical exercise he would need at home and, if they were lucky, in time his spine would heal and he would walk again.

&nb
sp; Michelle’s mind began to think of the practical things. She wasn’t ready to give up work altogether and once Eric got his release from the Army, he’d be around more and he would be able to meet Matty after school sometimes – and in time, she’d probably have a baby of her own.

  She could see all the advantages and she’d been coming round to the idea that Eric would make a good husband and father – all she had to do now was to make up her mind whether or not she could love him as he undoubtedly loved her, because to marry him for other reasons wouldn’t be fair …

  Running the last few steps to her home, Michelle put all such thoughts out of her mind. She wanted to do the right thing for herself, for Eric and for Matty, but she couldn’t be sure what that was yet. She would have to give it some more thought – perhaps have a talk to Alice. She and Bob would be back from holiday this weekend …

  ‘Where are you going, Samantha?’ It was pure luck that Wendy was in time to spot the twins leaving St Saviour’s by the back door. She’d popped across to the Nurses’ Home for a clean uniform after one of her patients had been sick over her and was on her way back when they appeared. Both had their coats on and Samantha was carrying a bundle of clothes under one arm. Her guilty look told Wendy everything. ‘Oh, Samantha, Sarah, you’re not trying to run away are you?’

  ‘I don’t want to see her,’ Samantha said, and her mouth pulled down at the corners. ‘I won’t let them take Sarah away, I won’t …’

  Sarah sneezed suddenly and Wendy saw that tears were running down her cheeks. ‘What’s wrong, love?’ she asked. ‘Are you not feeling well?’

  ‘Sarah’s head hurt,’ the child said and pulled her hand from Samantha’s. ‘Sarah not run away from Wendy … Sarah want to stay here …’

  Wendy placed a hand on her brow and frowned in concern. The child was burning up, clearly running a fever. ‘You’re not well,’ she said, and looked at Samantha. ‘Sarah needs to be in bed. I’m going to tuck her up in the sick ward – I think she has a nasty cold coming on. Please don’t run away, Samantha. Let me look after you – and let your auntie talk to you. She won’t be taking you anywhere yet, because Sarah isn’t well enough.’

  Samantha looked at her for a moment, and then inclined her head. ‘All right,’ she agreed. ‘But if they try to separate us we shall run away and hide until she goes back to France.’

  ‘I think perhaps you should have a day off school too,’ Wendy said. ‘You can get in bed near Sarah and I’ll make you both a nice hot drink … it’s too cold for you to go out and you might be catching a cold too.’

  Taking Sarah firmly by the hand, Wendy led them back into St Saviour’s. She was secretly pleased that their aunt wouldn’t be able to take them out that weekend after all. It would take time for Samantha to trust her mother’s sister and the best thing for them all was to remain at St Saviour’s until they knew what kind of a woman Madame Bernard was – and if Wendy had to pretend that both sisters were sicker than they actually were, she would do it …

  ‘Madame Bernard?’ Angela said and offered her hand to the young woman who had just introduced herself. ‘I’m very pleased to meet you at last.’

  ‘As I too am pleased,’ Françoise Bernard spoke in a soft musical voice. ‘I ’ave long wanted to find my sister’s babies and at last I am ’ere …’

  ‘Unfortunately, the twins will not be able to leave St Saviour’s this weekend as they are suffering from colds … and Sarah is running quite a nasty temperature.’

  ‘For this I am so sorry,’ Françoise said, looking upset and disappointed. ‘I may see them, yes?’

  ‘Yes, certainly, Madame. They are both in the sick ward and at the moment we do not have any other cases, though we have three children down with a vomiting bug, but they are in the isolation ward.’

  ‘I do not quite understand … what ees this place?’

  Angela explained they kept children who had infectious diseases separate from those suffering less serious illnesses, and the young woman nodded. She was in her early twenties, rather pretty and she looked a little like Sarah, with the same unusual pale hair, but her eyes were a deeper blue and her skin had a delicate tan from living in a much warmer climate.

  ‘What is your intention in visiting the twins, Madame Bernard?’

  ‘If they like me, I ’ope to take them ’ome to France with me very soon.’

  ‘Do you have the paperwork necessary to take the twins with you, should you wish to?’ Angela asked as they walked along the hall. ‘I realise they are your sister’s children, but I’m not sure how easy it is to take adopted children back to France.’

  ‘My ’usband ees nephew to the … how you would call it?… the lawyer,’ Françoise said. ‘You forgive please. My English is not so good as I would wish. I ’ave the papers I need to take my sister’s babies ’ome to France, yes.’

  ‘I see.’ Angela was thoughtful. Madame Bernard seemed pleasant and was obviously eager to take her sister’s children. ‘You have been told that Sarah is very dependent on her sister, and we could not consent to them being parted …’

  ‘But of course I wish for both Samantha and Sarah,’ Françoise said. ‘My sister would wish it. When she left us to marry her sailor, my ’eart, it broke. I was still a child when she died, but when I learned of her death I vowed that one day I would find them …’ Tears glistened in her eyes. ‘My ’usband ’e consents to ’ave the little ones with us. We ’ave no babies of our own and we will love them.’

  ‘Yes, well, Samantha and Sarah have had a bad experience, so please give them some time to get used to you before you tell them you want to take them away from us.’

  Angela pushed open the door and saw Wendy taking Sarah’s temperature. The nurse turned; a defensive wary expression on her face as she saw the woman with Angela.

  ‘Sarah still isn’t very well,’ she said. ‘She needs an aspirin and a nice warm drink.’

  ‘Ma petite,’ Françoise said and moved eagerly towards the bed. ‘My poor little one, you ’ave the nasty ’eadache, no? Eet ees like your poor maman, she always have the ’eadache – when she was child she ’ave many ’eadaches. And the ear, she too is bad …’

  Sitting on the edge of Sarah’s bed, she reached forward and stroked her head gently, and then she began to sing softly, a lullaby in French. Sarah looked surprised and then began to sing the words with her, their words slightly different, but the tune exactly the same.

  ‘You know your maman’s favourite song!’ Françoise said, and leaned down to kiss Sarah’s cheek. ‘She always sing to me when I was baby – and she sing to you her song, yes? Your grandmère, she teach us both. When she carry her little ones inside, she think of them with love and she sing to them … my poor Jenni she do the same, this I know …’

  Samantha had got out of bed and was sitting on the opposite side of Sarah’s bed, staring at her aunt oddly. Françoise turned to look at her and smiled. Samantha stared back but didn’t smile.

  ‘And you are my so brave Samantha,’ Françoise said and reached across to touch her hand. ‘I ’ear all ’ow you look after ma petite – you are ’er big sister, no?’

  ‘We’re twins,’ Samantha said. ‘Did you know my mummy?’

  ‘She was my big sister and when she went to England with ’er sailor to be married I cry all night, because I think I no see her again, and I break my ’eart – but now I see my Jenni again in you and Sarah …’ Tears had started to run freely down Françoise’s cheeks and she made no attempt to check them as she held out her hand to Sarah, who took it trustingly. ‘I pray always to find you well …’ She held her other hand out to Samantha. For a moment the child held back but then she moved slowly to place her hand in her aunt’s.

  ‘I won’t come to live with you unless Sarah comes too,’ she said, her face set stubbornly, still not quite able to trust.

  ‘But of a certainty Sarah must come also,’ her aunt told her. ‘My ’usband has a big ’ouse and a farm with many animals. For you and Sarah he has
waiting a puppy and a little ’orse you can ride. ’Ee cannot wait to show you all the animals. And, for me, I show you all the things that belonged to your maman when she was child …’

  ‘My mother’s things? Did she have a doll?’ Samantha asked, her interest aroused. ‘And pretty clothes?’

  ‘My Jenni had a doll and a rocking ’orse, and I ’ave kept them for you,’ Françoise told her and smiled. ‘When you and my precious Sarah are well, you come with me to France, yes?’

  Samantha removed her hand and looked warily at Wendy, who was standing a few feet away watching. ‘Can Wendy come too?’ she asked.

  Françoise turned to look at the nurse and nodded. ‘If your friend want to come for a holiday to help you, she will be welcome – and to visit you whenever she wish.’

  ‘Oh …’ Wendy blushed. ‘I don’t know. It’s very kind of you, but …’

  ‘Please come, Wendy,’ Samantha begged. ‘Sarah wants you to come too, don’t you, Sarah?’

  Sarah nodded, looking very solemn. She had watched and listened, but now she looked at Françoise and said, ‘Sing Maman’s song to us, please.’

  Angela turned away as Françoise began to sing softly to the children. She touched Wendy’s arm and they walked to the door together.

  ‘I think you should go, for ten days or so. I’ll help you with the passport and pay your fare there and back.’

  ‘If you think …’ Wendy faltered. ‘I’ve never been to France or anywhere much.’

  ‘Well, this is an opportunity for you,’ Angela said. ‘I should feel easier in my mind if you went with them, Wendy. Madame Bernard seems truly delightful, but I want you to see what her husband is like – and to make sure the children are happy there before you come back. Will you do that for me?’

  ‘Yes, of course,’ Wendy agreed. ‘But what about my job – what will Sister Beatrice say about my taking a holiday so soon?’