Cook took one look at Billy and wondered what on earth the child had been up to. She was enormously tickled by the look on his face. She had no children of her own but she knew a guilty face when she saw one. Billy’s face was getting more and more red, and he almost ran when she gave him the milk. ‘How amusing,’ she chuckled.
It was teatime before the children approached Nancy once more. She had been distracted all afternoon, looking after Josephine. ‘Cook has asked if we can help in the kitchen, Aunty Nancy.’
‘Oh, very well,’ she said, with no hesitation. ‘Off you go.’
They went down the stairs, paused outside the kitchen, then tiptoed to the chapel. They put their ears to the door. Silence. Martha pushed the door and they all crept quietly inside. They stood like statues at the back of the chapel, hardly daring to move. Then they turned to Martha.
‘Look over there,’ she said.
‘What are we looking at Martha?’
‘Over there in the crib. Just like I told you. Lots and lots of straw.’
‘You are clever, Martha.’
Martha felt very important indeed.
‘You first, Martha,’ the children whispered.
‘Why?’
‘You’re the oldest.’
‘Go on,’ whispered Billy.
It was very dark in the chapel, except for the dim light that shone on the altar and a few candles that flickered in the semi-darkness. The Cross of Our Lord looked down on them. The children looked up guiltily and then quickly each of them made the sign of the cross.
‘Do we need to genuflect?’ Tommy asked. Once more they all looked at Martha who nodded. In the dim light at the back of the chapel the children began bobbing up and down making the sign of the cross at the same time. It may very well have been a trick of the light, but had anyone been looking closely it definitely looked as though Our Lord, looking down at them from above the altar, may well have been smiling.
‘Come on, then,’ Martha said, bravely taking a step forward. They tiptoed down the aisle to the crib and stood completely still.
‘Hurry up,’ Billy whispered.
‘How do we carry it?’ Tommy asked.
Martha thought for a moment, then looked at the boys. ‘You all fill your trouser pockets with as much straw as you can get into them.’ They did exactly that.
‘It’s not enough,’ said Billy.
Suddenly they all froze. They had heard footsteps.
‘Someone’s coming,’ Tommy said, panicking.
‘You go to the stable and we’ll follow,’ Martha told them.
Tommy, Billy and Norman ran to the side door of the chapel, crept out, then ran.
Martha and Mary ducked down behind the pew, their hearts thumping, and prayed for whoever it was to go away. Finally, after what seemed like an age, they stood up and went back to the crib. Martha’s heart was racing and Mary’s hands were shaking. Martha raised her eyes to the cross above the altar, then jumped when she heard more footsteps. She looked at the straw, then at Mary, then back to Our Lord. ‘Sorry, God,’ they said, then stuffed as much straw into their knicker legs as they could and ran out of the chapel without looking back.
Oliver was thrilled to see the children and they made a great fuss of him while trying to keep him quiet. Billy was worried that someone would hear him or that Aunty Nancy would come looking for them.
Oliver barked excitedly. ‘Quiet, Oliver,’ Billy kept saying, but the puppy only stopped when the children began to feed him. They made a bed of straw and sat stroking him. ‘If he goes to sleep he might not bark so much,’ Billy said.
‘Maybe we should sing to him – that’s how Aunty Nancy gets us to sleep,’ suggested Tommy.
‘Would it work with a puppy?’ Billy asked.
‘We could try I suppose,’ Martha said.
They all agreed to try.
That Christmas, under a moonlit sky, a puppy lay in a stable and, ever so quietly, the children of Nazareth House Orphanage began to sing. Little Billy Miller finally found his voice and joined in with ‘Away in a Manger’ as the puppy closed his eyes and slept.
If Nancy could have heard him she would have been very pleased indeed.
Cook’s Secret
It had been another busy day in the kitchen and Cook was standing at the sink washing up. The helpers had gone home and she was looking forward to putting her feet up. A sudden movement in the garden caught her eye. She stopped what she was doing and leaned forward to peer out of the window. Why on earth are the children walking around outside without their coats on? she wondered. It’s freezing out there. She watched them running towards the house and saw the look on their faces as they passed the window. Cook chuckled to herself. Well, now, she thought, guilty faces. What’s going on?
Deciding that a breath of fresh air would do her the world of good, she went over to her cupboard, put on her winter coat and wellington boots, then stepped outside. It was cold but Cook loved being out, before returning to the cosy warmth of her kitchen. Her feet crunched on the snow as she stumped along the driveway. I’ll go to the gates and back, she thought.
She waved at old Mr Bell, who was standing at his cottage doorway. ‘Hello,’ she called and walked over to him. She often took him a basket of cakes, bread and her special biscuits. Mr Bell was always very pleased to see her coming towards him but today there was nothing in her hands. Disappointment was clear on his face. Cook laughed. ‘I’ll be over later with something for your supper – I’ve got a nice bit of ham and some crusty bread.’ Mr Bell brightened.
Cook continued to talk as Mr Bell never felt the need for conversation. ‘I’m just out for a wander. I had a feeling little Billy might be up to something, no idea what. Poor wee mite. Hardly spoken a word since he arrived. Nancy’s tried everything, and I’ve never yet known her not get through to a child. Of course, he speaks now and again but not much. Nancy’s worried, though.’
Mr Bell smiled. He knew exactly what little Billy was up to. He had let the puppy out on Boxing Day for a run-around in the morning and had seen Billy find him. It had warmed his heart to watch the child playing with the puppy.
‘I’ll pop over a bit later,’ Cook said.
‘You might want to take a look over there,’ Mr Bell said, then closed his door.
I wonder what he meant by that, Cook thought. He’d pointed to the old stables where she’d seen the children hanging about earlier. In the end there was no need for her to continue guessing what Mr Bell had meant because she heard barking. She hurried towards the sound, and as soon as she pulled open the stable door Oliver jumped up at her, barking for all he was worth. For the first time in her entire life, Cook was speechless.
‘Heavens above,’ she said, then again, ‘Heavens above.’ Oliver jumped up at her again. ‘Down!’ Cook exclaimed sharply. She didn’t want his dirty paws all over her clean clothes. Nevertheless, Oliver was wagging his tail. ‘Goodness, you’re causing a draught. You hungry then?’ He began barking again. ‘Well, quieten down and I’ll bring you some food, but please be quiet. No wonder the children were acting strange.’ Cook roared with laughter, thinking of Nancy. ‘Oh my, wait till she finds out. I do hope I’m around when she does. It’ll make my Christmas.’
Cook chuckled all the way back to the kitchen. The little animal would have to be returned to whoever owned it, of course, but then she remembered the guilty looks on the children’s faces. I wonder what’s going on, she thought, as she made herself a cup of tea. Suddenly the light dawned, and she slapped her hands down on the kitchen table. ‘Surely not,’ she said, to the empty kitchen. She remembered Nancy saying that Billy had been smiling more in the last day or so and thought again of the strange behaviour she had seen through the window. ‘Well I never,’ she said. ‘I bet that little scamp found the puppy and hid him away. No wonder he seemed happier – and Nancy has no idea.’ Cook roared with laughter once more, then suddenly stopped. Oh my, she thought, wiping her eyes, I wonder if the poor little pup is hungry. �
��Nobody ever goes hungry on my patch,’ she said to herself as she began opening cupboards to see what she could find. She wondered if she should tell someone but she knew that if she did the puppy would be taken away. Poor Billy, she thought.
Cook looked out of the window towards the stable block. No, she couldn’t risk telling anyone. There were some old crates at the back of the kitchen and she was sure there were some old blankets in Nancy’s treasure trove in the attic. Of course, nobody was allowed up there except Nancy. God forbid anyone should touch her stuff. When Nancy had returned home after the war and found that the nuns had meddled in the attic, it had been the talk of Nazareth House for years. But now it had to be done.
Cook stepped out into the corridor and looked around. If Nancy could have seen her she would have most definitely been extremely amused. Cook’s face was flushed and she could not have looked guiltier. She paused for a moment with her hand on the banister, then went up the nursery stairs. There had never been any need for her to come up them before and she wondered what she would say if she was caught. Cook paused. She couldn’t do it. Then she saw in her mind those big brown eyes, a waggily tail and a bark that said I’m hungry and just a little cold. Cook then took a deep breath. ‘I can go where I like in this house,’ she told herself bravely, and continued up the stairs.
When she reached the door that led into the nursery she glanced at it, then hurried up the narrow steps that led to the attic. In no time at all she found the blankets she needed and almost ran back to the kitchen. She was out of breath and had to take a moment to calm herself. She picked up the basket of food she had packed for the puppy – if anyone saw her they would think she was going to Mr Bell – pushed the blankets into a crate and set off.
As soon as she was outside the garden door she breathed a sigh of relief. She turned the corner, bumped straight into Nancy and screamed.
‘Cook, for goodness’ sake, what is the matter with you?’ Nancy said.
‘Well, I might ask you the same thing, Nancy.’
‘No need to bite my head off. I just came out for a breath of fresh air. I was going to pop in and see you for a cuppa afterwards.’
‘Yes, well, some of us are busy today,’ Cook said, her face beetroot red and her heart pounding. Nancy giggled, then set off. Cook was puffing and panting, looking for all the world like she was up to no good at all. Must be something in the air Nancy thought as she made her way back to the nursery.
Cook hurried over to the stable as quickly as she could, looking around her all the time to make sure nobody was watching her. When Cook went into the stable, Oliver jumped up at her as soon as she was through the door. ‘Down! Bad boy! Didn’t your mum teach you any manners?’ He was soon calmed, though, by all the treats in the basket. She had also brought a cooking pan for Oliver, which she would leave in the corner filled with water. When she spotted little Billy’s coat, hat and dressing-gown, her eyes filled with tears. Oh what nonsense, she thought, wiping her tears.
Cook stayed with the puppy for an hour, by which time she was absolutely freezing cold. She gave him a cuddle, then made him comfortable in the crate covered with the blankets she had brought. ‘No good looking at me with those big brown eyes,’ she told him. ‘I have cakes to bake for tomorrow, but I’ll be back,’ she promised.
Cook returned to the kitchen and sent word upstairs for Billy and Martha to come down to the kitchen to collect some cake for Nancy’s supper. Any pretence would do. Soon the pair knocked on the door and came in. Cook’s heart melted. ‘I’ve kept the puppy warm,’ was all she said. Never had she seen more grateful looks on two little faces.
Billy’s eyes filled with tears. ‘Please don’t tell,’ he whispered.
‘Oh, goodness me, away with you all,’ she said laughing. ‘I won’t tell,’ she said, ‘and I’ll help all I can. Now get along.’ She handed them the cake for Nancy. She wanted to get back to her baking, but continued to chuckle to herself. A puppy, and Nancy had no clue whatsoever. Cook couldn’t remember when she had last found anything so funny.
Nancy had watched the children on and off all day while trying to settle Josephine. She thought it was strange that the children were not as excited as they usually were when a new child arrived. They hadn’t asked any questions at all. Something was going on. They were up to no good, certainly, yet they were behaving perfectly. Nancy sighed. Maybe they were just trying to think up ways of helping, bless them. Oh well, she thought, time will tell.
By evening Billy was worried, as they all were. Cook had said she would help but had made no mention of going back to feed Oliver tonight. They should have asked. It was almost bedtime now and they had no idea whether he had been fed or not. They would have to tell the adults, Martha said.
‘No,’ said Billy, near to tears. ‘You promised, all of you.’
Martha was chosen to tell Aunty Nancy that Cook had asked for them to go and help again, as she was behind with her baking. They had forgotten all about it, they told her.
Nancy looked them all in the eye. ‘Oh, she did, did she?’
‘Yes,’ the children insisted, ‘she really did, Aunty Nancy.’
‘Wait there a moment,’ she told them, and hurried downstairs to the kitchen, where Cook was almost done for the day.
‘Popped in for a cuppa, Nancy?’
‘Well, not exactly. Did you ask the children to come and help you? It is getting rather late.’
‘Ooh, yes please, Nancy, there’s lots of clearing up to do. The children’s help would be much appreciated,’ Cook said, with her back turned. She couldn’t possibly look at Nancy and lie. Heavens above, that would be unthinkable.
Nancy was puzzled but made her way back upstairs. Some time later, she allowed Billy, Martha, Norman, Tommy and Mary to go and help Cook. They ran downstairs and made straight for the kitchen. The door was open and they could hear the strangest sound.
‘What’s that?’ whispered Billy.
The children listened, then Norman giggled. ‘It’s Cook snoring,’ he said.
They crept slowly into the kitchen and sniffed. Oh, the smell of newly baked cakes and biscuits. Their eyes were all drawn to the larder where Cook kept all her baking. The door was ajar and there sat the tin of Cook’s special cakes.
‘We can’t,’ said Martha. But the thought of the hungry puppy was playing on their minds. Cook suddenly snored loudly and Billy dashed forward, reached up and grabbed the tin of cakes. They ran along the corridor to the door leading to the garden, not stopping until they reached the stable.
Oliver leaped at Billy the moment he saw him. He bounded round the stable, his tail wagging furiously. ‘Oh, we have to keep him,’ Martha said.
‘Cook said she’d help us,’ Billy reminded her.
‘Not when she finds out about the cakes,’ replied Martha.
The children crushed cake for Oliver and played with him. Then Oliver curled up in the straw and the children placed the blankets over him. They closed the stable door before they went back to the nursery.
Later they all climbed into bed with no fuss. Nobody wanted a story and they all pretended to be asleep immediately. ‘What good children,’ Sister Mary Joseph said.
‘I’m not so sure,’ Nancy replied. She hadn’t missed the sight of wet socks and shoes, a complete mystery unless Cook had asked the children to help clear up while dancing around in the snow. Nancy turned to Sister Mary Joseph. ‘Something is up, mark my words.’
Away in a Manger
It was the morning of 28 December, the day of the nativity play. Honestly, thought Nancy, what a ridiculous fuss everyone was making. Every helper available had been drafted in to clean and polish the chapel and ensure that every step, banister and floorboard throughout the house was gleaming. Rags had been saved for weeks to put into the girls’ hair to make the most perfect ringlets. The laundry staff had been working endlessly, cleaning and pressing clothes to ensure every child was perfectly turned out. The waxing machine had been gliding over the parlour ha
llway for hours, and Nancy was frazzled. Cook making a fuss today of all days wasn’t helping.
As she took her first step onto the newly polished floor her feet almost went from under her and she screamed as she grabbed onto the banister to stop herself from ending up on her behind.
Mother Superior came out of her room to see what the noise was about and saw Nancy sliding about at the bottom of the stairs. ‘What is the matter, Nancy?’ she asked.
Nancy straightened her clothes. ‘Nothing, Mother,’ she replied, ‘but I suggest you warn the lady mayor that the parlour has been turned into a skating rink. She should wear ice skates unless she wants to end up flashing next week’s washing in front of all the dignitaries.’
‘Oh dear,’ Mother said, looking around her with a worried expression on her face.
Nancy stepped carefully across the floor to Mother’s room, asking if she had taken the big tin of cakes from the kitchen.
‘Cakes, Nancy?’ said Mother, with a surprised look on her face. ‘Is that what all the commotion was about earlier? I could hear Cook shouting.’ She sighed. ‘I fear it’s going to be one of those challenging days and I wanted everything to be so organised. It’s a very special occasion after all.’
‘Mother, it’s the lady mayor and the dignitaries, not the royal family. Please can we all just calm down? They come every year to watch the children in the nativity play, which, by now, they know by heart.’
‘I suppose that’s true.’
‘Then, Mother, they will all troop into the parlour smiling endlessly, have tea and go home. That’s it. So, unless the lady mayor decides to skid across the parlour, do a triple Salchow, double toe loop ending with a spectacular triple axel when she enters, all will be exactly the same as every other year.’
‘Oh dear,’ said Mother again.
‘Now, about those cakes, did you by any chance take them for the lady mayor?’
The Puppy and the Orphan Page 9
