Christmas for the Halfpenny Orphans

by Cathy Sharp

  ‘She isn’t a Catholic, is she?’

  ‘Not to my knowledge.’

  ‘Then I doubt she will have much to tell me,’ Beatrice said. ‘Angela took the girl on. Perhaps you should ask her to talk to Tilly.’

  ‘Yes, perhaps. She’s had a lot to do recently, what with one thing and another. I didn’t like to bother her. I think she’s up to her neck with arrangements for Christmas. She and Father Joe are putting on a concert for us, as well as the carols – and we’re having sponsors and friends of St Saviour’s to the carol service on Christmas Eve.’

  ‘Yes, Mark told me about all the plans for Christmas.’ Beatrice shook her head. ‘He spoils these children, Nan. It worries me that they will leave here expecting too much – it is a hard world out there and they will have to face reality.’

  ‘So many of them have tragedy in their lives,’ Nan said thoughtfully. ‘Surely it can’t hurt for them to have some fun?’

  ‘Perhaps. Well, if you’re truly concerned about Tilly, perhaps I should talk to her,’ Beatrice said. ‘Send her to me tomorrow morning and I’ll see if I can discover what is troubling her.’

  Tilly had a good idea why she was being summoned to Sister Beatrice’s office that morning. Nan had been cross with her on three separate occasions, because she’d made mistakes. Each time she’d apologised and Nan had told her to get on with her work and be more careful in future.

  ‘When you drop a tray of glasses it costs money to replace them, and broken glass is dangerous. Make sure you sweep it up properly and don’t leave it lying on the dining room floor.’

  ‘I’m sorry. I thought I’d got it all,’ Tilly said, on the verge of tears. The problem was that she’d been so worried that day she hadn’t known what to do with herself. When she’d left home she’d thought her stepfather would leave her alone, but three times in the last week he’d been waiting for her as she left St Saviour’s and walked through the gardens to the Nurses’ Home.

  ‘I thought I’d catch you, Tilly love,’ he’d said in a soft persuasive tone. ‘Your ma wants you to come home and so do I.’

  ‘I’m never coming back while you live there,’ Tilly had retorted fiercely, and she’d been made to regret it when he grabbed her and twisted her arm. ‘Leave me alone, you brute!’

  ‘You watch your mouth, girl,’ he said. ‘Your mother has done nothing but nag me since you left and I shan’t put up with it – if you don’t come back I’ll leave her and then she’ll starve or end up on the streets.’

  Tilly had pulled away from him and Michelle’s father had come into the garden to fetch something from the shed. When her stepfather saw him looking curiously at them, he shrugged and walked off, but not before he’d warned her again what would happen to her mother if she didn’t oblige him.

  She tapped softly at Sister Beatrice’s door and was invited to enter. Opening it reluctantly, she went in and stood in front of the nun. Due to her illness, Tilly hadn’t seen a great deal of her since she’d come to work at the children’s home and she was still in awe of her.

  ‘You wanted to see me, Sister?’

  ‘Yes, Tilly, I do.’ Beatrice looked up and nodded. ‘You may sit down. I asked you to come to my office so that we can talk in private. Nan tells me that you have been making mistakes. While everyone has accidents sometimes, when too many things happen it makes us wonder why. Are you happy with us? Do you enjoy your work – or is it simply that you find it boring?’

  ‘Oh no, Sister,’ Tilly said instantly. ‘I do like it here. Everyone is friendly and I’m sorry I dropped those glasses the other day … and for all the other things I’ve done. I do try not to make mistakes, but …’ her words tailed off. How could she explain that she was tired due to lack of sleep and worry?

  ‘Are you upset about something?’

  Tilly gulped and hung her head; then she brought her gaze up. ‘Yes, I am – but you can’t help me, Sister. No one can.’

  ‘We can’t help you if you don’t tell us, but I am not easily shocked, Tilly. Even though I have taken the veil, I understand the problems a young girl may face. Are you in trouble?’

  ‘Not that sort!’ Tilly’s face flamed. ‘But I might be, if he has his way – he’s always after me and makin’ threats. He says if I don’t go home, he’ll leave me ma. But if I do he’ll keep at me until he gets his way … And there’s me little sister Mags. What if he starts on her?’

  Sister Beatrice frowned. ‘Are you saying this man – your stepfather – has been here bothering you?’

  ‘Yes, Sister, he has. I thought I’d be safe here when Mrs Morton got me the room, but he was waiting in the garden the other night and he grabbed me – and threatened me. He said if I didn’t go home he would make Ma suffer. I know she won’t cope if he leaves her. She never has since my father died – and she’ll be back to her old ways …’

  ‘And what were they?’

  ‘Drinkin’ and pickin’ up any man that looks at her,’ Tilly said and a tear slid down her cheek. ‘She brought them home most nights when I was a kid – but then she found someone who was prepared to marry her and look after us both. He was all right, like a father to me and his own kids until I was seventeen, and then he started lookin’ at me … well, you know. I’ve been fightin’ him off for the past year. I had to get away, but he still won’t leave me alone.’

  ‘I am very sorry, Tilly,’ Beatrice said. ‘One thing I can do immediately is to have a bigger gate put on the garden and make sure it is locked. It means the nurses will have to enter through St Saviour’s or carry their key, but I will not have men climbing into our garden and upsetting our staff.’ She looked at Tilly thoughtfully. ‘I’m not sure what more I can do, Tilly. I do see you are worried about your mother’s welfare, but if he is such an unpleasant character, your mother might be better off without him. And if you’re worried about your young sister, you should speak to the Welfare department about him.’

  ‘He hasn’t touched her, as far as I know. And Ma would kill me if I fetched the Welfare on her, but I can’t help thinkin’ that he might … He’s such a pig!’

  ‘Perhaps your mother should be made aware of what sort of man her husband is. She might tell him to leave herself.’

  ‘She wouldn’t manage,’ Tilly said. ‘I know no one can help, but thank you for listening – and I’ll try to do better, if you’ll give me another chance.’

  ‘I do not wish to sack you,’ Beatrice said. ‘I feel that your life has been hard enough, Tilly. Is there no one, no male relative, that could help you?’

  ‘No.’ Tilly forced a smile. ‘I can take care of myself, Sister – but unless I give him what he wants, he’ll make Ma suffer.’

  ‘If you will take my advice, I should ignore his threats. Bullies seldom carry them out, you know. Believe me, I have had personal experience of these things. Have you considered that he may be settled and satisfied being looked after by your mother? Why do you not call his bluff and let him do his worst – if he does go off and leave her, you could return home then and help her to manage.’ Sister Beatrice rose and walked round the desk, taking hold of Tilly’s shoulder. ‘Be brave, my dear. The worst is often much less than you fear.’

  Tilly thanked her and left the office. She knew she was lucky that Sister Beatrice was giving her another chance, and she must try harder to make sure she did her work properly – but it hadn’t solved her problem. Tilly knew that her mother cared for the man she’d married; she would put up with anything rather than lose him – even if it meant that he was creeping into her daughter’s bedroom to force himself on her.

  Tilly blinked back her tears. She wasn’t going to give in to him. She would rather die than let him rape her, but her decision was going to make things difficult for her mother. Yet if Tilly gave in … No, she couldn’t, she wouldn’t let the brute touch her because it would strip away all her self-esteem and she’d rather throw herself in the canal.

  THIRTY-NINE

  Alice resisted the urge to look
over her shoulder. Bob had told her that she wouldn’t be able to spot him following her and she wasn’t to try. If she did she would betray her nerves to the other men following her, and she knew there had been two of them: she was used to it happening. One of them had been loitering across the street when she left her home, and the other one had hopped on a bus when she did, sitting right behind her. So if she’d tried to avoid the first tail she’d still have had the second after her. She’d often wondered why they bothered to follow her, but now that she knew what had been in that locker, she understood. They’d suspected that Jack might try to use her to fetch the stuff and they wanted it – they wanted it badly.

  It all made sense now. Alice knew that Jack had never loved her, despite all his fine words. He’d been using her all the time, laughing at her for being fool enough to give him her heart. Oh, he might have fancied her, but he’d never loved her – not the way Bob did. She wondered where Bob was. She knew he’d probably be at Euston already, because it was only when she had that bag that Lee’s men would go for her.

  She tried not to be afraid; Bob was good at protecting people, it was what he did for a living, and Susie was with Nan at St Saviour’s. Bob had taken her there himself; they didn’t want anyone to know she was there and the gang only followed Alice.

  Getting off the bus as it reached the station, Alice was aware that her shadow had jumped off at the last minute. She tried to think clearly, stopping at a newspaper kiosk, loitering as if she were uncertain, because that’s how she would have felt if she hadn’t known there were plain clothes policemen mixing with the crowds. Making her way to the lockers, Alice searched for the number that matched hers and saw it. Her heart was racing now and she clenched her hands, the nails pricking her palms as she felt the dryness in her mouth. She almost wished she hadn’t said she would do it, but if she hadn’t her shadows would never leave her.

  Lifting her head proudly, she walked to the locker and then took the key from her pocket. The bag inside was an old leather portmanteau. She reached for it, heart pounding as she extracted it and left the key hanging. Turning, she walked quickly towards the entrance. It was as she reached the newspaper stand that she felt the touch on her hand and realised that someone was near. Glancing to her left, she saw a man she recognised, the scar on his face as deep as ever. Perhaps it was because she’d seen him and disliked him many times that Alice reacted so fiercely. As he tried to take the bag from her, she snatched it back.

  ‘You’re not having it,’ she said, glaring at him.

  ‘Give it here, you little bitch,’ Big Harry muttered and pulled on the bag sharply. ‘It will be the worse for you if you don’t.’

  Remembering her instructions, she let go of it suddenly and Big Harry’s eyes narrowed. ‘I’ll be back for you, bitch,’ he muttered. ‘You’re going to get what you deserve.’ He raised his hand to strike at her, landing a blow on the side of her head. Alice staggered and would have fallen but the next moment the other man who had followed her earlier came up and grabbed her arm.

  ‘We’ll take her with us,’ he muttered. ‘I don’t trust this one.’

  Alice pulled away from him desperately, but he held on to her arm, propelling her forward. She could smell the stink of beer on his breath and an underlying stench that she associated with stale sweat. ‘Let me go or I’ll scream,’ Alice muttered. ‘I shan’t come quietly!’

  ‘Let the bitch go, Ned. We’ll deal with her later,’ Big Harry said and strode off ahead of them, ignoring his colleague. Clearly, he was more interested in getting the stolen goods back to his boss, but Ned was determined to hang on to her.

  Alice opened her mouth to scream, but the man clamped his large hand over it, muttering threats. She bit him as hard as she could, and he took his hand from her mouth, swearing at her furiously. Then the knife was in his hand, pressing into her side as she was dragged along in Big Harry’s wake, though it was hard to see him through the crowds. Alice felt the despair wash over her, but then someone grabbed her by the arm and she was wrenched away from her captor.

  ‘Get out of here, Alice,’ Bob warned and pushed her behind him.

  She gave a cry of alarm as the thug turned on him, knife in hand. Terrified that Bob would be injured, instead of running as he’d told her, she stood, feet glued to the ground as the two men struggled for the knife. It was a desperate struggle; Ned was strong and determined. The knife flashed out twice and Alice was sure it had struck Bob. Screaming, she watched in horror as they struggled, uncertain which way it would go, and then she saw the knife go flying through the air and fall skittering across the ground. Watching in stunned silence, Alice saw Bob stagger and she thought he would go down, but he rallied, twisting the rogue’s arm back behind him until she heard a crack and a scream and the man who had attacked her went limp and sank to his knees.

  ‘You’ve broke me arm, yer bastard,’ he muttered, seconds before three uniformed policemen surrounded him and he was carted away. The whole thing had taken a few seconds but for Alice it had seemed an eternity.

  ‘Bob,’ she whispered. ‘I thought you weren’t coming.’

  ‘I had to let Big Harry get away,’ Bob said. ‘He isn’t the one the police want …’

  Before he could finish the sentence his eyes rolled back and he swayed towards her. She tried to catch him in her arms, but he was too heavy and brought her down to her knees as he collapsed.

  ‘He’s hurt – he’s been knifed!’ Alice cried, and one of the uniformed officers came to look. Blood was running from a wound in the side of Bob’s chest. ‘That man had a knife and he hurt Bob. Oh, God, he’s hurt bad …’ Tears were running down her cheeks. Bob was hurt and it was all her fault. He hadn’t wanted her to do this and now he was injured – he might even be dying … and she couldn’t bear that, because she loved him. Until this moment she hadn’t realised how much she cared for the man she’d married. It had grown slowly without her really understanding the shift in her feelings, but now, suddenly, she knew that she loved him and her life would never be the same if he died.

  ‘Don’t worry, Mrs Manning,’ the officer said. ‘We’ll phone for an ambulance. We’ll look after him. Are you all right?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter about me,’ Alice said, kneeling by her husband and looking at his white face. ‘I’ve got a few bruises but Bob is hurt bad …’ She bent over him, running her fingers over his face as the tears fell. She could see the blood staining his shirt and it terrified her. Oh, why had she ever agreed to this madness? Alice had done her bit, handing the key in, she shouldn’t have taken part in this stupid plot. If Bob died because of it, she would never forgive herself …

  Alice was sitting on a hard seat in the hospital corridor when Michelle found her later that afternoon. She was carrying Susie’s carrycot and looking anxious as she sat down next to her.

  ‘I came as soon as I could, love,’ she said. ‘When Sister got the message that Bob had been hurt, she told me to bring Susie to you and said she would take over in the sick ward. She said if you needed me I should stay with you all night and not bother about coming in tomorrow.’

  ‘I’m glad you’re here,’ Alice said. She looked down at her sleeping child and caught back a sob. ‘We were so happy, Michelle. Bob loves me and Susie. He didn’t want me to do it, but I insisted. Oh God, I wish I hadn’t. If anything happens, it’ll be all my fault!’

  ‘Have they told you how he is?’ Michelle touched her hand in sympathy. ‘Bob’s a strong man. He’s got a good chance of pulling through.’

  Alice nodded, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. ‘I’m such a fool, Michelle. I didn’t know what a good man I’d got … And now it’s too late!’

  ‘It isn’t too late.’ Michelle squeezed her hand comfortingly. ‘They haven’t told you he’s dead, have they?’

  ‘No.’ Alice gulped back the sob. ‘No, but it’s been ages. I’m so scared, Michelle. I keep thinking of Sally when her boyfriend was killed. She’s so brave, but I don’t th
ink I could be brave like her. I don’t know what I’ll do without Bob … I love him. I didn’t know it until Bob was hurt bad, but now I do … and it’s all my fault.’

  Michelle gave her hand another squeeze. ‘It looks as if the doctor is coming …’

  Alice could scarcely breathe as the man in the white coat and horn-rimmed spectacles came up to her. He had a kind, sympathetic face but his grave look only made her more terrified.

  ‘Well, Mrs Manning, I’m glad to tell you that we’ve managed to stabilise your husband. It was touch and go for a while – unfortunately the knife has damaged his lung …’ Alice caught her breath sharply, her fingers digging into Michelle’s hand where she was gripping so hard. ‘However, he’s through the worst. He’s going to have to stay in hospital for a while – and we’re not sure yet what the consequences of this attack will be …’

  ‘What does that mean?’ Alice asked breathlessly.

  ‘Your husband is in the Army – military police, I believe?’ She nodded, unable to speak, and he went on, ‘His injury may mean that the Army will have to discharge him – he may not be able to carry on with the work he was doing, Mrs Manning.’

  ‘No!’ Alice could barely speak, her voice was choked with tears. ‘Bob loved his job. He was so proud of what he’d achieved …’ The tears overflowed. ‘This is all my fault.’

  Michelle wrapped an arm around her. ‘No, it isn’t. You mustn’t blame yourself, Alice …’

  But of course Alice did. She would always feel that it was her fault.

  ‘A nurse will fetch you in about half an hour,’ the doctor said. ‘You may sit with your husband for a while, but then you should go home.’

  Alice nodded, wiping her face with the back of her hand as he walked away. ‘Bob will hate me for this,’ she said miserably. ‘That job meant so much to him.’

  ‘It wasn’t your fault,’ Michelle insisted. ‘The bloody cops should never have put either of you in this position!’