Christmas for the Halfpenny Orphans. Cathy Sharp
was finding it all too much to bear. She hadn’t noticed at the Church Hall, but now she could see that his youthful air had left him. He’d always seemed so much younger than her mother, still a handsome man and full of vitality, but now he looked drained.
‘Are you ill, Daddy?’ she asked quietly. ‘Is it your heart?’
‘Well, you know I’m not the man I was.’ He forced a smile. ‘I’m feeling a bit upset, that’s all. I thought when your mother left the clinic she would come home to me – but her letter was that of a stranger, someone writing out of duty …’
‘Does she know you’re not well?’
‘No, and I don’t want her to,’ he said, giving Angela a direct look. ‘It’s nothing serious, my love – and if she’s happier staying with her new friends … Well, we must let her have her life. It seems that your mother was disappointed in me. I couldn’t give her what she wanted. So now … she’s decided to go her own way.’
‘It sounds as if you think she isn’t coming back.’
‘I’ll be surprised if she does. You see, the friend she’s going to stay with is a man. Quite a wealthy man, I gather.’
‘Oh, Daddy!’ Angela was shocked at the implication in her father’s news. ‘After all you’ve done for her – for us …’ Angela felt anger rise up inside her. How could her mother have done this to him, especially when he was unwell.
‘Perhaps it is for the best, my love. You mustn’t worry about me. Someone comes in twice a week to clean and she does a bit of shopping and cooking for me, so I’m well looked after and I still have you – don’t I?’
‘You know you do,’ she said, but her eyes stung with tears and her throat was tight. Her head was running the whole gamut of emotions: love and hurt for his sake, and anger with her mother for behaving so callously. ‘I’m sorry, Dad. I think she is being very unfair.’
‘She thinks we’re the ones who’ve been unfair to her. Your mother believes I love you more than her – and she might be right. In truth, our marriage has been over for some years, but I tried to hold it together for everyone’s sake and the result was disaster. Mark explained it all to me; it seems that the drinking, the shoplifting and spending sprees were all symptoms of an illness that was created by deep depression.’
‘But you gave us both so much, Dad.’
‘I tried, but it wasn’t enough for her … Perhaps what I gave was only money, at least as far as she was concerned. Had I loved her enough, I might have seen her despair years ago, but I was too busy – and I must admit, selfish too. Don’t imagine I shall go into a decline even if it comes to a divorce. I’m sorry for your sake though, Angela; we’ve let you down, and people will talk.’
Angela got up and went to kneel at his side, looking up at him earnestly. ‘You’ve never let me down, Daddy. If you need me, I’ll come home,’ she promised. ‘Remember that, dearest. You are the most important person in the world to me.’
‘I’m managing, my darling girl,’ he said, tenderly stroking her hair. ‘I thought you should know and it isn’t the kind of thing I wanted to say on the phone or in a letter.’
‘No, better to hear it from you,’ she agreed, but inside she was fuming. Her mother had sent him a letter rather than tell him to his face and that made her furious, but there was no point in saying more. He had accepted it and to make a fuss would only cause him more strain. ‘Now you must excuse me while I go and get ready for dinner. Tonight we’re going to have a lovely evening together, Dad, no matter what.’
‘I took Sarah’s pinafore skirt to be washed,’ Wendy told Angela as they sat drinking coffee in the staff room a few days later. ‘That dirty old pipe was in the pocket and I was tempted to throw it out, but instead I gave it a bit of a wash and put it in the locker by the side of her bed.’
‘That was good of you,’ Angela said. ‘To us it’s only a dirty old thing, but it means something to that child and she doesn’t have much.’
‘She’s a bit backward …’ Wendy twiddled a strand of her light brown hair round her finger. She was growing it longer so that she would be able to put it back in a knot under her nurses’ cap, but felt it was dull and unremarkable, and envied Angela her pale blonde locks. Angela had such lovely eyes too, the colour of an azure sky. ‘Have you noticed that she agrees with everything Samantha says, echoing her like a parrot?’
‘Yes, I think we all have, though she can speak independently if she wishes. Do you think they are settling into the dorm all right?’
Wendy hesitated before she answered, then inclined her head. ‘Yes, they’ve settled quite well. I think Samantha is happy enough here. She and Mary Ellen get on well and I think they’re working on a scheme to earn some more stars for a trip to the zoo.’
‘Yes, all the children like to earn points towards that trip.’ Angela laughed. ‘Have you settled in now, Wendy?’
‘Yes, I think so,’ Wendy looked sad, her soft brown eyes moist. ‘It took me a while to get used to living in the Nurses’ Home after Mother died – but I’m getting over that now.’
‘It must have been so sad for you, nursing her yourself at home.’
‘It was what I wanted to do, but it was heartbreaking.’
‘I’m sure it must have been,’ Angela agreed. ‘Losing someone you love is terrible – but seeing them fade … I’m sorry, I can see it still hurts you.’
‘No, not now,’ Wendy said. ‘I loved Mum and I’m glad to talk about her, Angela. Everyone avoids the subject – but you know what it’s like to lose someone …’
‘Yes.’ Angela got up to pour more coffee but Wendy shook her head.
‘I ought to be getting back to the wards, thanks all the same.’
Wendy left Angela and went out into the hall, but instead of returning to the wards immediately, she went into the new wing. It still smelled of fresh paint and everything looked modern and bright, much nicer than the old wing.
Hearing the sound of crying and screaming as she approached Mary Ellen’s dorm, she hastened her step. A child was in acute distress and by the sound of it that child was one of the twins – Sarah.
‘Stop it, Sarah,’ her sister was pleading. The blanket and sheets had been stripped from Sarah’s bed and were lying on the floor in a heap. Tilly had changed the sheets only that morning; now they were crumpled and it looked as if one of them had been torn. ‘Don’t upset yourself like this …’
‘Want go home,’ Sarah wailed. ‘Don’t like it here. Pipe gone, Pa gone – Sarah want go home …’
‘We can’t go back,’ Samantha said, trying to catch her sister in her arms, but she pulled away and started to scream again. ‘Stop it, Sarah, or they might send us away and we’ve nowhere else to go – please.’
‘What is the matter?’ Wendy asked. Samantha turned to look at her, and for a moment there was resentment in her eyes – and was that a faint trace of fear?
‘Sarah’s pinafore dress has gone and Pa’s pipe was in the pocket. She loves that pipe because it was his. Now she won’t stop crying. She’s never like this …’
‘Oh, I am sorry,’ Wendy said. ‘Look in your locker, Sarah love. I took your pinafore so I could wash it for you – I’ll bring it back as soon as it’s ironed. The pipe is in your locker …’
Sarah looked at her blankly, but Samantha rushed to the small cupboard at the side of her sister’s bed and opened it. She saw the pipe lying on top of a pile of clean