by Linda Finlay
‘But, Harry, it was barely a quarter of an hour at the end of the sewing lesson and only came about because of Edith’s use of expletives. As proprietress of Red Cliffs it is my duty to …’ she began, but his hazel eyes darkened and he refused to let her finish.
‘I would remind you that I am the schoolmaster here, the only one trained and qualified to teach.’
‘And as I was saying,’ Sarah continued, annoyed by his pomposity, ‘I am the proprietress of this school. It is my desire the children learn to speak without resorting to swearing. In fact, I’m finding their continued use of expletives unacceptable,’ she explained.
‘As you obviously consider this to be more important than their feelings of security and stability, I won’t stand in your way. Good afternoon, Miss Sullivan.’
‘Oh, Harry, that’s ridiculous,’ she began, but she was talking to thin air. ‘Nuts,’ she muttered, realizing she had wounded his pride but before she could go after him, there was another knock on the door. Fighting down her frustration, she took a deep breath.
‘Come in,’ she called.
‘Ah, Miss Sullivan, Mr Wise, the verger, wonders if you can spare him a moment?’ Mrs Daws asked pleasantly enough, whilst managing to convey to Sarah that she wasn’t happy with her. She might have realized the master would have confided in the housekeeper and she would take his side.
‘Of course, Mrs Daws, do show him in,’ Sarah replied, hoping the man wouldn’t stay long. As if picking up on her thoughts, the housekeeper ushered the man into the room then smiled cordially.
‘Would you like a cup of tea, Verger?’ she asked.
‘Well …’ he hesitated, glancing at Sarah for approval.
‘Bring us in a pot of tea and some cake, please, Mrs Daws,’ Sarah replied sweetly. Not for one moment would she give the housekeeper the satisfaction of seeing she was annoyed her authority as hostess had been usurped. Besides, a cup of tea might help ease her throbbing head.
‘If you’re sure, that would be grand,’ Jack Wise replied, giving Sarah an appreciative smile that restored her equilibrium as well as doing wonders for her morale.
‘Now how can I be of help, Mr Wise?’ she asked.
‘Jack,’ he corrected her with a smile. ‘The vicar asked me to call. Well, no, actually that’s a fib. The vicar wants to know if you would lend Sally to us and I offered to come and ask.’
‘You want to borrow Sally, Mr W … Jack?’ Sarah frowned.
‘Yes. Her voice, that is. Well, her along with it, of course.’ Cheeks flushing, he drew to a halt. ‘What I mean is, we have noticed that Sally has the most beautiful voice and wonder if she might be permitted to sing in our choir.’
‘Trills like a lark, does young Sally,’ Mrs Daws said, pushing the door open with her behind as she came in bearing the tea tray. ‘You should hear her on the piano. Not that Red Cliffs has one, of course.’ She paused and glared at Sarah as though this was her fault. ‘The deaconess, now, she has a beautiful baby grand at her school and Sally used to play that,’ she added, passing the verger his tea with a slice of shortbread alongside. ‘Sorry there’s no cake only the school timetable has been turned upside down today and I didn’t get my usual help in the kitchen.’ The housekeeper shot Sarah another disapproving look before sweeping from the room.
‘Oh dear, have I come at a bad time?’ Jack asked.
‘No, not at all. It’s just that we’ve had a few problems these past two days.’ She went on to tell him about Solomon’s arrival and the smashed coops.
‘Nasty business, that fire,’ Jack sighed. ‘If we can help in any way with the young fellow then do let us know, Sarah. St Nicholas’ is here to be of service.’
‘Thank you, Jack.’
‘Forgive me for mentioning it, but you are looking rather peaky,’ Jack remarked. ‘Can I be of assistance at all?’
‘Well, you could rob a bank,’ Sarah laughed.
‘What?’ the verger spluttered, so that his tea sloshed into the saucer. Sarah sighed inwardly, wishing she’d phrased it differently for she’d forgotten how he took everything literally.
‘Don’t mind me, Jack. It’s just that the roof needs repairing sooner rather than later and …’ She shrugged.
‘You need to raise funds,’ he finished for her. He took a sip of his tea then broke into a smile. ‘It just so happens I have a couple of ideas. St Nicholas’ is planning to hold a choral evening to celebrate Easter. If young Sally was in the choir, she’d naturally be part of it and, of course, we could always include the other pupils. Perhaps Master Higgins could tutor them in a suitable festive hymn? The vicar thinks you do a wonderful job here and I’m sure he’d agree to sharing the proceeds between the church and the school.’
‘Goodness, what a marvellous idea, Jack,’ Sarah enthused. Then she remembered Harry had tendered his resignation. Honestly, that man and his principles. Still, he was hot-headed and bound to come to his senses when he’d calmed down, she thought, sipping her tea.
‘With Easter Sunday being the 7th of April, we were thinking of holding the concert the evening before. The good ladies always decorate the church with flowers for the day’s celebratory service so it would set the scene beautifully.’
‘April?’ Sarah gasped, thinking of their immediate need for finance. The share of the money they’d receive would be merely a trickle in the pond but yet they had to start somewhere, didn’t they? Seeing he was waiting, she forced a cheery response.
‘That’s a brilliant idea, Jack, and kind of you to think of involving Red Cliffs. I didn’t realize you held a concert at Easter.’
‘We don’t usually but it’s been a miserable few weeks, what with our Queen’s demise and the passing of our own dear Mrs Knight, so the vicar asked what the Church could do to cheer people up.’
‘It’s certainly been upsetting and unsettling,’ Sarah agreed. ‘And her granddaughter returning to live with her parents, whilst understandable, has left us short staffed. Amelia was an admirable schoolmistress.’
‘Ah, you’re having to teach the girls as well as run the school,’ Jack guessed, his eyes softening. ‘No wonder you are looking … well, er, I mean you’re looking as pretty as ever, of course, but …’ His voice trailed away and he sat there, embarrassed.
‘Oh, Jack, you’re good for my morale even though I know I’m looking frazzled.’
‘I should imagine running this place is demanding,’ he said, glancing round the cluttered room. ‘Perhaps if you had a man to look after you, it would …’
‘Jack Wise, this 1901. Are you really suggesting I should become a little woman at the beck and call of her husband?’ she cried.
‘No, well, yes. I mean it would be an honour to have someone as wonderful as you to care for,’ he muttered, his cheeks growing hotter by the moment.
‘Thank you,’ she replied, fighting down her irritation. How many times did she have to refuse him before he got the message? Maybe her gentle hints should be replaced by overt statement, yet he was a sensitive man and she didn’t want to hurt him. ‘However, before I can even think of myself I have the pupils here to consider. You see, Jack, it is important to me that the girls especially realize their potential so that when they go out into the world, they can earn a good living and stand on their own two feet.’
‘Very commendable,’ he agreed, taking a bite of his shortbread. ‘Hmm, Mrs Daws is a good baker.’
‘She is,’ Sarah agreed. ‘And the girls learn well under her direction, too. Now, going back to what I was saying, I actually intend applying to become a member of the School Board and, as soon as time permits, attend meetings of the National Union of Women’s Suffrage Societies. Miss Harmon, one of the school inspectors, told me they are active here in Torquay.’
‘Indeed, they are,’ he frowned.
‘You disapprove of the idea of women voting in Parliamentary elections?’
‘Not at all. However, I rather think you have your hands full already, what with taking the girls for
their lessons as well as overseeing the running of the school.’
‘Yes, well, that’s only until the new schoolmistress is appointed. In the meantime, I have already made a start on the girls’ sewing. Mind you, their use of expletives needs curtailing. Why, only this morning I brought them to heel over their rough language.’
Jack stared at her sadly. ‘You make them sound like little puppy dogs. I would have thought their main requirement is for love and understanding,’ he said.
‘I agree, and that is, of course, our main priority,’ Sarah replied quickly. ‘However, it is also our duty to prepare them for life outside the school,’ she added. ‘Anyway, I’ll certainly speak to Sally about her joining the choir. Do you have any idea what you would like the pupils to sing?’
The verger shook his head and got to his feet. ‘No, I’ll leave that up to Master Higgins. He knows best what they’re capable of. Their rendition of carols at Christmas was very, er, enthusiastic,’ he said, smiling once more. He opened his mouth, then hesitated.
‘Was there something else, Verger?’
‘Actually, yes. You might not be aware, but because of the mild winter so far, some of our parishioners with large gardens have a glut of vegetables – turnips, leeks, potatoes, etc. – which they don’t want to see go to waste.’
‘That’s very kind, Jack, but the school has its own supplies from the garden,’ Sarah told him.
‘Oh dear, I’m making a ham fist of this. Let me start at the beginning. Since the demise of Mrs Knight and her sewing bee, the good ladies have been at a loose end. In fact, between you and me, the vicar is desperate to find something else for them to become involved in. They mean well but are … well, let’s just say it’s easier all round when they are gainfully occupied. I believe I am right in saying that being full to capacity here, Mrs Daws is rushed off her feet.’
‘Indeed, she is and that’s something else that worries me,’ Sarah sighed.
‘Well, it seems to me that if you put the good ladies together with that glut of vegetables they could make soup for those urchins you feed on Sundays.’
‘Goodness.’
‘We understand how Red Cliffs prides itself on helping the less fortunate and wondered if the pupils could serve the soup in the church hall after Sunday service for a while. Mrs Daws can help, too, of course, although I rather think she may welcome the break – not that she’s said anything,’ he added quickly, seeing Sarah frown.
‘Do you know Jack, that would be such a godsend, if you’ll excuse the pun,’ she laughed.
‘Well, if it’s made you smile again then I’m pleased. Thank you for the refreshment, most welcome. Now I’ll bid you good afternoon.’
Talk about manna from heaven, Sarah thought, pushing her paperwork to one side. Mrs Daws’ increased workload had been playing on her mind and this would relieve the housekeeper from some of her duties. And, if the good ladies were happy to make the soup for the Sunday urchins using vegetables from elsewhere, then the school’s supplies would last longer. Gathering up the tea tray, she hurried along to the kitchen where the housekeeper was rolling out pastry while April stirred a huge pot of meat in gravy.
‘Something smells good in here,’ Sarah said brightly.
‘We’re making the master’s favourite pie to cheer him up,’ April said, without looking up.
‘Well, I have some news for you,’ Sarah smiled.
‘Hope it’s good, for those poor girls and the master were downright miserable at luncheon,’ the housekeeper sniffed, using her rolling pin with unnecessary force. Sensing the atmosphere, Sarah decided that perhaps it would be better to square things with Harry first.
‘Where is Master Higgins?’ she asked.
‘In the classroom, of course. Where else would a dedicated teacher like him be? He’s not the sort just to walk out and leave his pupils high and dry, whatever the provocation,’ the woman puffed.
‘The girls were really upset at their noontime meal, Miss Sullivan,’ April added. ‘We’s not posh round here and speaks like we always have. Even Amelia just suggested we say our H’s at the beginning of our words.’
‘I was only trying to encourage them not to use expletives,’ Sarah explained. Then seeing the girl’s blank look, added, ‘Swear words.’
‘Well, they’s taken umbrage, like, and no mistake. We thoughts you liked us as we was,’ she said, her hand straying unconsciously to the scar on her cheek.
‘Oh, April, I do,’ Sarah cried, mortified that was how she’d come across. ‘It’s just that I know how people judge by appearances, and that includes speech, and I just wanted to help you all get on in the world,’ she said, going over and putting her arm around the girl’s shoulder.
‘Well, they didn’t see it like that,’ April murmured, staring at Sarah sadly.
‘Then I’d better explain, hadn’t I?’ she said softly. ‘You must understand that I just want to raise the standards of our school.’
‘Like April just said, we are what we are, Miss Sullivan. The dear doctor never expected us to be anything else,’ the housekeeper sniffed.
‘And nor do I. You are all very dear to me and I shall go and make that clear to everyone right this minute.’
5
Oh dear, what have I done? Sarah thought, throwing her shawl around her shoulders and hurrying to the school room. The pupils were just filing outside and the girls shot her a wary look.
‘I have to speak with Master Higgins, but I’ll see you all at supper,’ she called to them.
‘Not if we see you first,’ Kitty muttered.
‘Harry …’ she began just as he appeared in the doorway. Despite the challenging gleam in his eyes, the sight of him set her pulse racing. From the moment they’d met he’d had an effect on her, she thought, sighing as she recalled the disparaging look he’d given her the first time she’d stepped into his classroom. He’d thought her some do-gooder and she’d been determined to prove him wrong. Now it seemed she needed to do the same again.
‘I was about to lock up,’ he said curtly.
‘About earlier, Harry. Please may I have a word?’ she asked, trying to keep her voice even as she saw they were being observed.
‘You’d better come in,’ he sighed. ‘On your way, you lot,’ he shouted to the group of pupils who were obviously hoping for a showdown. As she followed him into the school room the Love Never Faileth motto above his desk caught her eye. He followed her glance. ‘That was your godfather’s aphorism and the principle he tried to abide by.’
‘Which you think I have not,’ Sarah replied. ‘Believe you me, I really thought I was doing the best for the girls correcting their expletives. I thought if I showed there were better ways for them to express themselves, they’d stand more of a chance of getting on when they leave here.’
‘But it’s no good teaching them words way above their comprehension. To express an attribute, indeed,’ he mocked. ‘Why not just say an adjective is a describing word?’
‘Well, you have no qualms in using fancy words, Master Higgins,’ she retorted, hating the way he persisted in wrong-footing her.
‘That’s different, I’m a schoolmaster. Fancy words will hardly help these girls when they apply to become kitchen hands or dairy maids.’
‘But that’s just it. I’m hoping that with guidance they will aspire to better jobs than that,’ she protested. He stared at her for a few moments then let out a long breath.
‘Your heart may be in the right place, but if you think we can turn these rough diamonds into fine jewels then you’re kidding yourself. They have been saved from a life on the streets or at best, the workhouse, and they are grateful for food and a roof over their heads. If we can provide them with a basic education, then that is more than they would have had.’
‘But I …’ Sarah began, then remembered her mission. ‘Look, Harry, I apologize if I’ve acted out of turn but I really do have the girls’ best interests at heart.’
He arched a brow cynically.
‘Theirs? Or is it about your dream of furthering Red Cliffs, because if it’s the latter then I would remind you this is a ragged school set up to help waifs and strays.’
‘Yes, I understand that, but surely it doesn’t mean we should encourage them to say “bugger me” this and the “rabbit’s bollo …” ’
‘Really, Miss Sullivan,’ he cut in, trying to look suitably shocked. However, his twitching lips betrayed him. ‘Look, I appreciate you want to help. However, you need to understand that if you try to teach them things beyond their ability they either switch off or worry. Poor Monday and June have been muttering about “pletivs” and “jectivs” all afternoon, while Kitty’s been chortling over your “stern mam” manner.’
‘Oh,’ Sarah murmured, feeling like a scolded schoolgirl herself. Despite her best intentions, it seemed she’d got things very wrong.
‘I wasn’t kidding when I said you need to be trained how to teach, especially children like these. It’s a case of working to the lowest level most of the time or you end up losing their interest completely.’
‘Don’t you find it frustrating?’ she asked, her curiosity piqued despite herself.
‘Sometimes, but then you see one of them suddenly grasp what you’ve been trying to drum in for ages and, well, pow, you get that tiny tingle of success.’
‘You love it here, don’t you?’ she replied, noting the spark of satisfaction in his eyes. He stared around the room with its makeshift desks, slates that were scratched and worn, the dwindling fire in the grate.
‘I enjoy the feeling of a job well done. However, I am not the type of man who tolerates having his authority in the classroom usurped, Miss Sullivan.’
‘I can only apologize if it appeared that way and I promise it won’t happen again.’ She held her breath, realizing how much his answer mattered, and not only to the school.
‘I’ll let you have my decision in the morning. I’ve promised Mother I will dine with her tonight so Pip will be supervising the boys over supper. I’ve asked him to keep a special eye on Solomon. Although he was happy enough whilst helping the boys rebuild the coops, as soon as we’d finished he became dejected and has been morose all afternoon.’
