by Cathy Sharp
‘Nah, I’m all right,’ he muttered. ‘I was just restin’. I’m goin’ home now …’
‘You don’t have to lie to me.’ The man’s voice had become insistent as his fingers curled round Archie’s wrist. ‘I’ve helped a lot of boys like you find a better life. How would you like a soft bed to sleep in at night, good food and money in your pocket? You just have to do a few favours for people like me. You know what I mean, lad. I’ll bet you’ve done it scores of times before now, but I’ll introduce you to the right people and they pay well …’
It suddenly dawned on Archie what the man was after. He’d heard vague things about men like that; he’d never taken much notice, but now he recoiled in disgust.
‘You bloody pervert,’ he yelled and wrenched away from the man, who caught at his arm and held on to him, beginning to drag him towards a car parked just down the street. Archie kicked out, catching him on the shin and as he yelped and let go, he took to his heels and ran.
‘You little bugger,’ the man called after him. ‘Wait until you’ve been on the streets for a few months. You’ll come crawling to me then …’
Archie neither replied nor looked back. He just kept running until he was out of breath and had to lean against a wall to get it back. His chest hurt and he was scared, because he didn’t know where to go next. He needed to find a group of vagrants that would accept him, people who would share their fire and sometimes perhaps their food; he wouldn’t mind working to earn a few coppers, but he wasn’t doin’ what that rotten bugger wanted, however much he paid him.
Archie lingered outside a cinema, looking at the posters for a new film called The Dam Busters and wishing he could be in there in the warm watching the picture on the big screen, but he didn’t have the price of a cup of coffee in his pocket and he was afraid to spend the two pounds that belonged to his mum, because he would need that to find June, so he couldn’t go to an all-night café to get warm. He would just have to keep walking until he found somewhere to stay where it was safe. He thought regretfully of St Saviour’s and wished he dare return, because it was warm there and he had found food in the pantry, but he’d hit Sister Beatrice and if she caught him she would be sure to hand him over to the police. No, he couldn’t trust anyone at the home; he just had to find someone to give him a job … Perhaps he would ask Ted Hastings on Saturday … but that meant he had nearly another week to wait …
Beatrice began her rounds of the dormitories, glancing in at the sleeping faces and feeling the sense of peace that always came when she knew these children at least were safe from the perils of the streets. Yet even as she returned to her office, satisfied that all was well, little niggles of guilt and anxiety played on her mind.
‘Sister, can I get you anything?’ Nancy asked as she came from the sick room and saw her just about to enter her office. ‘Are you all right?’
‘Perfectly. What should be the matter with me?’
‘I just wondered, because it’s late and I thought you might have gone home, Sister. I was about to make some tea for Nurse Paula, perhaps you would care for some?’
‘That is very kind of you, Nancy,’ Beatrice said, aware that she’d been sharp. ‘I’ve just been making my rounds of the dormitories. I shall be going home in half an hour or so, unless we have an emergency.’
‘It seems very quiet tonight,’ Nancy said and laughed. ‘I hope I’m not tempting fate, Sister. Shall I bring you some tea?’
‘Yes, please, and then you may talk to me for a while.’
Nancy nodded and went off, returning some twenty minutes later with a tray of tea, two cups and some biscuits. She placed them on the desk, poured the tea and sat down, waiting.
‘It seems cooler tonight,’ Sister Beatrice said and sipped her tea. ‘Oh yes, just how I like it. How long have you been here now, Nancy?’
‘Seven years, Sister.’
‘Yes, the years fly, don’t they?’ She took another sip of her drink. ‘Are you visiting your brother this Sunday?’
‘Not this week. I’m going to the zoo with Wendy and some of the children. It’s a while since we had any outings and Wendy asked if I would like to go. We’re going to take a packed lunch with us …’
‘Let’s hope we have better weather tomorrow then,’ Sister said and replaced her cup in the saucer. ‘Are you happy here, Nancy? You’re not thinking of leaving us?’
‘No, Sister. I hope you’re satisfied with my work?’
‘Yes, I am, quite satisfied. I just wanted to be sure, that’s all – for the future. I shan’t always be here and I want to know that our children will be in good hands. It has occurred to me that you might be ideally placed to take over my position in a few years …’
‘Me?’ Nancy stared at her in amazement. ‘I’m not a nurse and I don’t have your experience …’
‘I am not thinking of retiring for a while,’ Beatrice replied with a smile. ‘It may be that in future the Board would appoint a Warden who did not have a nursing background; she would have the backing of a senior nurse, of course, but that may not be so necessary by then. We have our nurses and carers but things have changed over the years. More and more of the children are being sent on to Halfpenny House and we are merely a reception centre, a temporary refuge before they go on to better things. You’ve lived here for some years and you know our routines as well as anyone. We’ve been lucky in our staff, but it isn’t as easy as it once was to find girls who want to work in a place like this, especially someone who would dedicate herself to the children; but this is merely a thought for the future, Nancy.’
‘Thank you for considering me,’ Nancy said, looking slightly dazed. ‘I never expected it, but I do like my job and … well, if I were asked I suppose I might consider it …’
‘Well, give the idea some thought, as I shall …’ Sister began as the phone suddenly shrilled on her desk. She picked it up, answering automatically, ‘Yes, Sister Beatrice of St Saviour’s. How may I help you?’
‘It’s Sergeant Sallis, Sister. We’ve just had three children under the age of seven brought in. Their father is drunk in the cells and was arrested for brawling and causing a nuisance, and the mother died last year. Can you take them in for us until we decide what to do about the father?’
‘Yes, of course,’ Sister Beatrice said. ‘I’ll alert my staff. Will you bring them round yourself?’
‘Yes. I’m on my way home. We’ve had a busy night here, Sister. Thank you for responding as always. I don’t know what we would do if you closed up shop …’
‘Well, you heard that,’ Beatrice said as she replaced the receiver. ‘We have three young children on the way. It looks as if we shall be busy for the rest of the night …’
Beatrice sighed as Nancy departed with the tea things. For a moment she’d thought it would be news of Archie Miller, but she would have a word with Sergeant Sallis when he came in, ask him if he’d heard any news concerning the boy …
Nancy was thoughtful as she bathed the new arrivals and got them into clean clothes before feeding them and putting them to bed. Nurse Paula had examined them all in turn and pronounced them fit, apart from severe bruising, some of it fresh, and a tendency to be underweight for their ages. Since the majority of the children admitted had similar problems, Nancy was able to look after them without taking too much of Paula’s or Sister Beatrice’s time. They’d had much worse cases over the years and she thought it likely that the children’s father would be allowed to claim them once he’d sobered up.
After they were all tucked up in the isolation ward, which had no other occupants at present, Nancy went down to the kitchen and washed the various dishes. She could have left them for the kitchen staff, but Muriel hated to start by washing up and her help didn’t always arrive promptly in the mornings. Sister was right when she said it wasn’t easy to find reliable staff for menial jobs. These days the girls wanted more glamorous jobs, like working in the perfume or fashion departments of the big stores or even modelling clothes for th
e customers. Of course there weren’t enough of those jobs to go round, but that didn’t stop girls who had no hope of ever getting that sort of job dreaming about it.
At one time Nancy had thought she might like to work in a Lyons teashop, but after Terry’s breakdown she’d settled here at St Saviour’s and by the time she was old enough to apply for a job at Lyons, she’d forgotten it was ever in her mind. Her life was here in the busy children’s home where she never had time to just stand and stare; there was always a job to do and someone to talk to. Sister Beatrice, the nurses, Muriel – their long- suffering cook – and the other carers had become her friends. Tilly and Kelly were like her; they’d chosen to stay here rather than go off to more glamorous jobs. Kelly’s mother had always been fragile and she was getting worse. For years Kelly had helped support her family, but her elder brother had left home, her sister was courting and her little brother was doing well at school and would soon be leaving to become a mechanic. If Kelly’s mother died she would be free, although she might feel it her duty to stay and care for her father … Tilly was married and her sister lived with her and her husband now that their mother was dead. Their step-father had gone to prison for years and when he came out he’d disappeared.
‘Good riddance as far as I’m concerned,’ Tilly had told Nancy once. ‘Ma would have had him back, but I told her, if he comes in I’ll take Mags and leave her to fend for herself.’
‘I don’t blame you, but he won’t bother you now.’
‘My husband would give him a black eye if he did,’ Tilly said and grinned. ‘Ma was weak where men were concerned, but she used her weakness to make the rest of us do what she wanted.’
People who used emotional blackmail were perhaps worse than bullies, Nancy thought as she stacked the cups back on the old wooden dresser. Nancy’s mother had been weak, taking to the bottle as her comforter, just as Tilly’s mother had, ignoring what was happening under her nose and failing to protect her children. If her mother had looked out for them instead of feeling sorry for herself, things might have been so different.
Nancy sighed as she prepared to take one more look round the dorms. She’d tried to forget it all, what her father had done to her, and all the rest, but even though she sometimes didn’t think of it for weeks, it was still there at the back of her mind. Nancy knew it was unlikely she would ever be able to trust a man or bear him touching her. What Pa had done had scarred her in her mind, making her reject the act of sexual loving as something unpleasant and evil.
She’d seen enough girls of her age falling in love to know that it needn’t always be that way, but there was something inside her that rejected every man that made a friendly gesture towards her. She’d been asked to dances and to the flicks several times over the years; the plumber’s mate who’d repaired their pipes one icy winter had asked her to go for a fish and chip meal but she’d said no, even though she’d liked his smile, but he wasn’t the only one. It was just that his smile was the one Nancy remembered.
She hadn’t given him a chance, any more than she gave the fish porter she’d met in the market, the bus conductor who flirted with her whenever she got on his bus or the market traders where she did her shopping or the hospital orderly who told her where to go when she was visiting one of their children. It wasn’t that Nancy couldn’t feel; she felt love for the children, friendship and concern for her friends, and she felt lonely – especially after visiting her brother Terry in his home.
Sometimes, that made her feel so upset that she wanted to break down and cry, especially when he didn’t know her. Nancy had long ago given up hope that Terry would ever be normal again. The doctors said that his mind had been so badly damaged by his father’s brutality and whatever had happened the night of the fire that he just couldn’t face it.
‘If he did it might send him right over the edge,’ a doctor had told her. ‘No, I think you must accept that your brother will always live here with us, Nancy. He is as happy as he can be in the circumstances …’
Nancy wondered if Terry would ever have been right, even if his father had treated him better. There had always been something strange about him, even as a small boy. Perhaps that was another reason why she didn’t think she would ever marry and have children; she couldn’t bear to give birth to a child who turned out like her brother …
Nancy finished her rounds of the home. Sister had gone to rest after the three children were admitted and she and Paula were the only ones left awake, though a quick call would have brought Sister hurrying back if necessary.
Apart from that one little flurry, it had been a quiet night. Nancy decided to have a chat with Staff Nurse Paula. In another hour the day staff would come on and they could go home to their beds …
CHAPTER 12
It was Monday morning when Billy walked into the coach depot whistling cheerfully. His eye was sore and had developed a beautiful purple colour over the weekend, and his arm was still in its sling. He didn’t feel like working for nine hours under a coach engine, but he’d come in because he couldn’t let his boss down.
‘What happened to you?’ Tom asked, brows rising as he paused in his work of polishing the bodywork of one of the coaches. ‘You look as if you’ve been five rounds with a prize fighter!’
‘You should see the other bloke,’ Billy bragged, unaware that his boss was standing at the office door listening. ‘This is nothing to what I gave him—’
‘Baggins, I want to see you in my office.’
Billy turned, heart sinking as he saw the angry look on the manager’s face. ‘Yes, sir …’ He followed him inside and went cold as he saw what looked like a wage packet and his cards on the desk. ‘I was just joshing Tom, sir. It wasn’t my fault …’
‘The fight is neither here nor there,’ his boss said, ‘nor the fact that you obviously can’t work with one arm in a sling. I thought I made it clear when you started here that we don’t allow second jobs. Even if you hadn’t been embroiled in a disgraceful fight I should’ve had to let you go once Mr Heston knew that you were working at that nightclub …’
‘But it doesn’t affect my work,’ Billy protested. ‘I thought you meant I couldn’t work as a mechanic for anyone else … it’s just keeping order when folks get rowdy. Surely you’re not lettin’ me go for that?’
‘If it were up to me I would let you off with a warning,’ the manager told him. ‘However, Mr Heston saw a piece in the paper about you on Saturday night in the Chronicle and he didn’t like it. They’re doing a series about people doing the right thing and standing up to the bullies, and they made you a hero, but I’m afraid Mr Heston didn’t see it that way. He doesn’t approve of nightclubs or anything to do with strong drink – and I took you on only because Sister Beatrice spoke up for you. I’m afraid this is your final notice, Baggins – two weeks’ wages and no reference. I’m sorry, lad. I don’t like to be so harsh, but I’ve no choice …’
Billy accepted the envelope and put it in his breast pocket. He wanted to yell and hit out with his fists, but he knew that wouldn’t do him any good, not that he could hit anyone with his right hand in a sling.
‘It’s not your fault, Mr Simkins,’ he acknowledged. ‘I’m sorry I let you down …’
Billy walked out of the office. Tom gave him a sympathetic look and shook his head, but could offer no help. Billy wasn’t experienced enough to get a job as a qualified mechanic, and he wasn’t likely to be offered another apprenticeship after being thrown off this one without a reference. They usually cost money and it had been a favour to Sister Beatrice that had got him his place here – and now he’d lost it …
Feeling sick at heart, Billy walked away from the coach depot. Mary Ellen would stand by him; she would be angry at the way he’d been treated and tell him he’d find a better job soon, but he knew it wouldn’t be that easy. He might find odd jobs down the Docks or sweeping up at one of the factories, but he wasn’t trained for anything and no one would set him on at a decent job without a reference. He
would have to start at the bottom, earning next to nothing – and that meant it might be years before he could afford to get married.
‘The rotten devil, to do that to you – and after you were a hero!’ Mary Ellen said angrily when he told her later that day. ‘Never mind, Billy, you’ll show them. You’ll soon find something else …’
‘Yes, I’ll find a job. I can do a few hours for Ted sometimes, but it isn’t leading anywhere, Mary Ellen. I can’t ask you to marry me on what I shall be earning now.’
‘You’ve still got that job at the club, haven’t you?’
‘Yes, but …’ Billy sighed because it wasn’t what he was looking for. ‘Don’t worry, love. I never wanted to work at the coach depot and this is my chance to better myself.’
Her smile lit up her face and he felt cheered to know that at least she believed in him. He would have to inform Sister Beatrice, but she would be upset and Billy didn’t feel like telling her his news until he’d found something else to put in place of his steady job.
He hoped to avoid seeing her and headed straight up to his room, but she came round the corner and saw him before he could make good his escape.
‘Ah, Billy,’ she said. ‘Mr Connolly was here earlier. He wishes to thank you in person and wants you to go and see him on Saturday afternoon at his warehouses. He seemed to think you would know where they are?’
‘Yes, Sister. They’re adjacent to the East India Docks. He trades in a lot of foreign goods, I think, and they store the stock in the warehouses until it is taken to the various shops and market stalls …’
‘Ah yes, a market trader,’ Sister mused, a questioning look in her eyes. ‘One imagines he is rich these days, but you can still catch a trace of the East End lad in his speech at times …’
‘You can take us out of the East End, but you can’t take the East End out of us,’ Billy quipped and to his surprise she nodded her agreement.
