The Surplus Girls' Orphans

by Polly Heron

  ‘Where have you been?’ Aaron asked quietly. ‘All this time, since Danny’s dad died, where have you been?’

  ‘Mr Abrams,’ said Mrs Rostron, ‘that is not your concern.’

  ‘I’ve been working. What do you think I’ve been doing?’

  ‘I wouldn’t know,’ said Aaron. ‘I only know what you should have done. You should have got here as fast as you could to take charge of a boy who needs a new parent.’

  ‘Now see here—’ began Mr Cropper.

  ‘No, you see here,’ Aaron retorted. ‘You’re supposed to be the one taking care of Danny. You’ve had over a week to get yourself down here and you haven’t bothered.’

  ‘I’ve been busy—’

  ‘So have I. I’ve been at work, and I’ve spent time with the kids here, and I’ve had young Danny sleeping round at my house because he was too upset to sleep in a dormitory. I’ve paid attention to him. I’ve tried to help him. I even saved his life. What have you done for him? Other than carry on working because you couldn’t be bothered to fetch him. You? You didn’t even know his proper name.’ Aaron pushed back his shoulders, standing taller than Mr Cropper. ‘One of us, sir, has behaved as a father should – and it isn’t you.’

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  ‘YOU DON’T MIND my getting married first, do you, Dora?’ Molly asked as they strolled arm in arm to Tilda’s to help finish the bridesmaids’ dresses. ‘Back in May, we all thought you were getting married quickly by setting a date in September. Now here I am, going to get wed in August. I hope you don’t think I’m stealing your thunder.’

  ‘Course not – well, maybe for a minute.’ Dora squeezed her arm. ‘But let’s face it. Your wedding won’t be a patch on mine. How special can it be when you’ve given yourself only three weeks to build up to it? Besides, after your mad moment when you dumped Norris, you were jolly lucky to find another man. I don’t blame you for wanting to rush him up the aisle.’

  About to protest, Molly stopped herself. Nothing would ever change Dora’s view.

  ‘I’m glad you’ve got an engagement ring at last,’ said Dora, ‘though I’m surprised you didn’t opt for something showier. If I’d been kept waiting all those years, I’d have wanted something the size of an egg.’

  Molly laughed. ‘Strictly speaking, I haven’t been kept waiting at all. Norris never wanted an engagement ring, and that was something I agreed to at the time; and Aaron certainly didn’t keep me waiting.’

  Even so, there was some truth in what Dora said. Taken to the jeweller’s by Aaron, she had half expected to choose something – well, showy, for want of a better word. A ring that would make up for the years of pretending not to want one, when she was engaged to Norris. Instead, she had fallen for a simple ring with a row of five dainty sapphires. It was perfect and in due course her wedding band would snuggle nicely alongside it.

  She had moved back home to her parents’, so she could spend her final days as a spinster under her father’s roof.

  ‘Eh, my lass,’ said Gran. ‘I’m pleased and proud you’ve got your happy ending.’

  ‘I’m not going to say I’m sorry I left Norris,’ Molly told her, ‘but I am sorry it caused you such worry.’

  ‘You’ve ended up with a better man and that’s what counts.’

  ‘Better? I thought you liked Norris.’

  ‘I did. We all did. So did you for a long time. There’s nowt wrong with Norris, but your Aaron has a bigger heart. Norris would never have opened heart and home to yon lad.’

  Yon lad: Danny. Molly and Aaron were united in their wish for a family and their first child was going to be Danny Cropper, who was already calling himself Danny Cropper Abrams, bless him.

  ‘I’m the first to admit,’ said Aaron, ‘that when I let rip at Angus Cropper, I never imagined I would have a son by the end of the conversation, but I couldn’t be happier or more proud.’

  Uncle Angus hadn’t put up much of a fight, but he had promised to keep in touch, a promise Molly and Aaron intended to keep him to.

  Danny had wanted to move into Soapsuds Cottage immediately, but Aaron laughingly refused.

  ‘Not until Molly and I are married. That way, the three of us begin our new life together. It’s not fair if you and I have a head start, Danny.’

  Molly was well aware of the special relationship between Aaron and Danny and, to start with, she wondered whether Danny would feel less close to her; but she needn’t have worried.

  ‘I miss my mum,’ Danny confided in a whisper. ‘I can’t wait to have you as my new mum.’

  When she hugged him, he hugged her back, sending a burst of love coursing through her. Her child. Her son. Not her first child, but the first she would have with Aaron.

  And then came the possibility of a second.

  She had called round to Wilton Close and they were all in the sitting room, when Lucy asked if she might have a word.

  ‘Of course.’ Molly smiled. She was fond of Lucy.

  ‘In private.’ Lucy glanced down, avoiding the looks that came her way.

  ‘What’s this about?’ asked Miss Hesketh.

  ‘If it’s private…’ Miss Patience murmured.

  ‘Very well,’ Miss Hesketh conceded.

  ‘Shall we go upstairs?’ said Molly. That seemed cosier than suggesting the dining room.

  At the top of the stairs, Lucy led the way into Molly’s old room. ‘This is my room now, though Vivienne still lets me use her wardrobe.’

  Lucy sat on the bed, indicating to Molly to join her. Lucy twisted her delicate silver bracelet around on her wrist, her gaze fixed on it.

  ‘There’s something I’d like to ask you, but I’m not sure how to.’

  Molly understood. ‘You want to ask about the birth.’ Lucy’s head swung up and she met Molly’s eyes. ‘No, it’s not that. It is to do with the baby, though.’ She stopped.

  ‘Tell me.’ Molly spoke gently, but her mind was racing. If not the birth, then what?

  ‘It’s about you adopting that boy – Danny.’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Would you – would you consider having my baby too?

  You’ve been good to me and – well…’ Lucy’s voice trailed away. ‘It feels like the right thing to do. Will you think about it?’

  Before Molly could finish speaking, Aaron gave her his answer.

  ‘Yes. You of all people understand how a mother longs for her child to be part of a loving family. If Lucy hands over her baby to us, she’ll do it in the knowledge that that is guaranteed.’

  Molly had never loved Aaron more than she did in that moment. This was the man she wanted. A man who put family first, above all else; and a man whose notion of family was broad and generous. She couldn’t wait to be his wife.

  She was ready to burst with pride when he accompanied her to Wilton Close to tell Lucy they would be honoured to adopt her child.

  ‘If you’re sure that’s what you want,’ he told Lucy.

  ‘I’m sure,’ said Lucy.

  But a few days later, while Aaron was helping her measure for new curtains, Mr Hesketh himself descended on Soapsuds Cottage, with steam pouring forth from his ears.

  ‘Do you imagine I’ll permit my daughter’s child to grow up in a poky cottage like this, with a lowly caretaker for a father?’

  ‘I may not have your money or social standing, sir,’ Aaron replied, calm and civil, ‘but my fiancée and I are decent people with a lot of love to give, and we’re more than happy to give it to Lucy’s child.’

  After Mr Hesketh had stormed off, Aaron turned to Molly, his brows furrowing in concern.

  ‘Do you think he’ll talk Lucy out of it?’

  Molly sighed. ‘Who knows? I hope she’ll stand firm, but it’s a long time until December.’

  ‘Imagine calling Soapsuds Cottage poky.’ Aaron pretended to be indignant. ‘Just let him come back in a few weeks and see Soapsuds House.’

  Old Mrs Mulvey from next door had gone to live with her daughter. Mr Da
wson, the landlord, who was a regular employer of Perkins and Watson, had agreed to let the two cottages be knocked into one.

  ‘We won’t have a two-up two-down,’ said Danny. ‘We’ll have a four-up four-down.’

  Dad and Tom and their crew had already started work and intended to get it finished in time for Molly and Aaron to come home to after their honeymoon. While they were away, Danny was going to stay with Mum and Dad and get to know his new family.

  Molly was back in everyone’s good books now that she was getting married. It was vexing to think she had to get wed to gain approval, but that was the way of the world.

  ‘One thing is certain,’ she told Aaron. ‘If we have daughters, I won’t measure their worth or success by whether they bag suitable husbands. Having said that,’ she added with a cheeky smile, ‘I’m glad I bagged you.’

  Molly was enjoying being back at home with her family. Mum, Dad and Tom appreciated it too. Her confession about her lost child had created a new closeness between them and being together gave it a chance to flourish.

  ‘I know nothing will make up for the one you gave up,’ said Mum, ‘but I hope you have a houseful to keep you busy.’

  Molly quite liked the idea of her own houseful, but at the same time she fancied being more than a wife and mother. Her stints at the Board of Health and St Anthony’s had given her a taste for that kind of work, so when she received an invitation to meet with Mrs Rostron, her heart bumped in anticipation. Might she be offered her old job back?

  When she made her way up the stairs, she found Carmel at the desk in the alcove. Carmel came round to give her a hug.

  ‘Do you know why I’m here?’ Molly asked.

  ‘No, but Miss Hesketh is in the office with Mrs Rostron.’

  ‘I’ll chat with you till she comes out.’

  ‘No. You’re here to see both of them,’ said Carmel. ‘Word of warning – Mrs Wardle has pushed her way in as well.’

  Molly walked along the landing. She knocked and Mrs Rostron’s voice called, ‘Come.’

  As she walked in, Mrs Wardle was saying, ‘I am the Orphanage Committee’s official visitor and if you’re holding a meeting that includes a former member of staff whose outrageous behaviour led to her being sacked, it is imperative that I am included.’

  ‘Very well.’ If Mrs Rostron was displeased, she did a good job of hiding it; a far better job than Molly could have managed. ‘I’ll ask for another chair to be brought.’

  ‘I’ll do that,’ Molly offered at once.

  ‘It isn’t your place to do any such thing,’ cut in Mrs Wardle. ‘You have no authority here now.’

  ‘Mrs Wardle is correct, Miss Watson,’ said Mrs Rostron, ‘though perhaps not for the right reason. It isn’t the place of an invited guest to do such things.’

  Opening the door, Mrs Rostron called down the landing to Carmel to ask for another chair. Soon the four of them were settled, though it was a squeeze. It would have been more comfortable had Molly pushed her chair backwards and allowed the others more room, but when she attempted to do this, Mrs Rostron asked her to stay put.

  ‘You need to be in the centre of this discussion, Miss Watson. Miss Hesketh has suggested that our more able girls could be taught basic office skills in the hope that one or two of them might become office juniors.’

  ‘Office juniors?’ Mrs Wardle exclaimed. ‘That is ridiculous for so many reasons, I hardly know where to begin.’

  ‘It is my understanding that the girls who leave here are placed in service or into shop work,’ said Miss Hesketh. ‘This will give the cleverer ones another option.’

  ‘And what about the need for jobs that provide somewhere for them to live?’ Mrs Wardle demanded.

  ‘That’s a problem, I grant you,’ said Miss Rostron, ‘but it’s no reason not to try. The girls who go to work for the big department stores can sleep in the shop dormitories. Maybe a girl who works in the shop’s offices would be permitted to sleep there too.’

  ‘You’ll over-educate them and give them unrealistic expectations,’ said Mrs Wardle.

  ‘We’re going to give them another string to their bows,’ Miss Hesketh replied.

  ‘And what has this to do with Miss Watson?’

  Mrs Rostron turned to Molly. ‘Would you be prepared to teach the girls? It would take just a few hours a week. The pay would be very little, but I hope you’ll agree that it would be worthwhile.’

  ‘Me?’ Molly looked at Miss Hesketh. ‘But I’m only a pupil myself. I’m not even that any more.’

  ‘You would be providing the girls with the most basic tuition,’ said Miss Hesketh, ‘and you’re more than capable of that. I’ll prepare a scheme of work for you to teach and give you guidance in how to conduct lessons.’

  Mrs Wardle snorted. ‘I don’t know what makes you think that the Orphanage Committee will employ anyone to undertake such an unpromising scheme.’

  ‘Miss Hesketh has a sponsor in mind to pay the bill,’ said Mrs Rostron.

  ‘My dear brother, I am sure, will be glad to put his hand in his pocket. Far from being unpromising, this undertaking will fit in nicely with his commitment to the business school. He’ll pay a small wage to Miss Watson; or to Mrs Abrams, as she soon will be.’ Miss Hesketh gave Molly a brief smile.

  ‘You can’t get round it that easily.’ Complacency oozed out of Mrs Wardle’s every pore and the miniature wisteria on her hat shimmered. ‘We don’t employ married women. In common with all right-minded employers, we believe their place is in the home.’

  ‘But the orphanage won’t be employing Miss Watson,’ said Mrs Rostron. ‘The business school will employ her and she’ll be here as a volunteer.’

  ‘She might not be on the payroll,’ retorted Mrs Wardle, ‘but she’ll be here working. You can’t wriggle out of it that way. I will not have this person,’ and she shuddered as she glanced at Molly, ‘on these premises after the way she behaved. She isn’t fit to work here. She’s a bad example and I’ll make sure the Orphanage Committee thinks so too.’

  ‘A bad example?’ said Mrs Rostron. ‘Miss Watson is a heroine, who helped to save the life of one of our children. I think she’s a splendid example and I’m sure the Committee will agree.’

  Mrs Wardle bounced to her feet. ‘We’ll see about that.’ She marched from the room – or she would have marched, but there wasn’t space. She bumbled her way round Molly’s chair and made a grab for the door.

  ‘Well!’ Mrs Rostron let out a gusty sigh as the door closed behind Mrs Wardle.

  ‘Shall you be able to sway the Committee?’ Molly asked anxiously.

  ‘I’ve taken the precaution of talking privately to a couple of the members already and I’m confident that you’ll shortly be asked to take up this new role. I suggest that you make ready by seeking Mr Abrams’s permission for you to do the work.’

  ‘Permission?’ Molly exclaimed.

  ‘If you’re a married woman, the Committee will require it.’

  Outrage flushed through Molly’s frame. She forced herself to speak softly. ‘Did you need permission from your husband to work here?’

  ‘Mine is a courtesy title, bestowed upon me by the Orphanage Committee,’ Mrs Rostron said drily. ‘Apparently, having Mrs in front of my name gives me more authority.’

  Miss Hesketh made no attempt to disguise a huh sound. ‘Miss has served me perfectly well all these years.’

  ‘What do you say, Miss Watson?’ asked Mrs Rostron. ‘St Anthony’s would be pleased to have you back. Are you interested?’

  ‘…so I need a letter of permission from you.’ Molly sat in Aaron’s workshop, trying not to look as if she was fuming. There had been a moment back in Mrs Rostron’s office when she had felt like turning down the opportunity out of sheer annoyance, but that would have been cutting off her nose to spite her face. She didn’t want to do that – but, oh, it was galling having to ask for permission, even from the man she loved.

  Aaron held out his arms. ‘Can I have a
hug?’

  ‘What for?’

  ‘I think I’m going to need one. You look as if you’re about to explode.’

  She shook her head, trying not to smile. ‘I’d like to explode, but not all over you. I’m trying not to take it out on you.’

  ‘Good. Give me a hug.’

  She walked into his arms. ‘If this is intended to take my mind off the – the…’

  ‘Insult? Inappropriateness?’

  ‘…the matter of needing my husband’s permission, it isn’t going to work.’

  ‘I know; but I hope it reminds you that I love you, Molly Watson, and I’m proud to think that Mrs Rostron wants you back. Do you feel a little less inclined to explode now?’

  ‘A little. Keep talking.’

  ‘What’s this? Fishing for compliments?’ Laughing, Aaron gently put her from him, though he kept her hands in his. ‘The best compliment I can pay you in this situation is to tell you what I’ll say in my letter. I’m not going to use the words “permission” or “I agree to”. I’ll say, “I am proud to be married to the teacher who is going to help some orphan-girls make something of themselves.” Will that be all right?’

  She pretended to consider. ‘Not bad. Could have been a lot worse.’

  ‘Could have made you explode.’

  ‘You’d never do that.’

  ‘Never on purpose, I promise.’

  ‘And never through thoughtlessness,’ she said. ‘I know you, Aaron Abrams. You’ve got a big heart.’

  ‘Full of love for you, and plenty left over for the family we’ll have.’ Letting go of her hands, he delved in his pocket. ‘I was saving this for later, but this seems like the right time.’ He produced a long, flat box. ‘For you.’

  With a flutter of excitement, Molly took the box and lifted the lid. Inside lay a necklace. On a simple silver chain hung a pair of flat silver hearts, one a complete heart, the other just a silver outline.

  ‘I designed it myself,’ said Aaron, ‘and the silversmith made it. The complete heart is for the son you had to give up. The heart-outline is for the open-hearted attitude we share about the family we’re going to build.’