The Boy with the Latch Key. Cathy Sharp
his head. ‘You’re like your dad, Archie, and I know you’ll be all right at St Saviour’s. Don’t let them split you up and ask Sister to keep you here in London until I get home – but if they don’t I’ll find you. I promise …’
‘I’m sorry, Archie, but you’ll have to go,’ a voice said from the door. ‘If my chief constable finds you here I’m for the chop. It’s back to your cell, Mrs Miller …’
‘Yes, of course,’ she said. ‘And thank you so much for this …’
Archie stared rebelliously as she was led away, but he followed the police constable who beckoned him and showed him out of the side door.
‘You’re a lucky lad,’ he told him. ‘I wouldn’t have risked my job like the Sarge has … Get off with you now and behave yourself …’
Archie shot him a resentful look and left. He became aware that tears were trickling down his face and brushed them off angrily as he went to join Billy in the café opposite.
‘All right now?’ Billy asked and got up to join him. ‘I’ll take you to meet some of the football team. You’ll be fine with Sister Beatrice and if there’s any justice your mum will be out afore you know it …’
‘Ah, Nancy,’ Beatrice said as the girl knocked and then entered her office. ‘Is everything all right?’
‘Yes, thank you,’ Nancy replied. Her soft fair hair was pulled back into a neat plait at the back of her head and she wore the pink gingham dress that was the uniform of all the carers. She was an attractive girl who could have made more of her looks if she’d tried. Since Nan had left them, she’d unofficially taken over her duties, liaising with Beatrice over the rotas and doing extra duty when needed. ‘I just wanted to let you know that I shall be visiting Terry this weekend.’
‘How is your brother?’ Beatrice felt the tiny prick of guilt she always felt when Nancy mentioned Terry. He was now living in a special home in Cambridgeshire for the mentally retarded, where Nancy said he was happy and content to spend his days. ‘Any change?’
‘Not really,’ Nancy said and sighed. ‘Last time I was down he didn’t know me for the first hour or so and then he came out of his trance and was pleased to see me. I never know for certain whether he will recognise me or not.’
‘That is so sad for you, my dear. I had hoped he might make a complete recovery.’
‘Mr Adderbury explained it to me,’ Nancy said. ‘Terry is blocking the past out of his mind. He isn’t violent these days. Everyone says he’s easy to look after, and he helps the gardeners, but he doesn’t remember much about what happened before they took him to the clinic, and sometimes he doesn’t seem to know me. I think it’s the treatment they gave him when he was first taken in …’
‘Well, perhaps it is better for him, Nancy. If the past hurts too much … not all of us are as strong as you, my dear.’
‘I don’t think about it; it’s over and gone and I’ve put it behind me,’ Nancy said, though something in her eyes told Beatrice that wasn’t quite true. ‘Well, I’ll get on. Tilly is in this morning but she can’t do everything on her own. We’re changing the linen today.’
‘I’m sure you’re very busy,’ Beatrice said. ‘Thank you for reminding me that you will be away this weekend.’
‘Jean said she would come in on Sunday if we need her.’
‘Yes, that would be most helpful, but I doubt we shall need her,’ Beatrice said. ‘Wendy will be on duty and I’m sure we can manage for once.’
Returning to her paperwork after Nancy had gone, Beatrice sighed. Jean Marsh had worked for them as a carer before her marriage, and had two young children at school. She sometimes worked a few hours in the mornings if they were short-handed, but it was a case of balancing the budget. Beatrice was fortunate in her staff, she knew, because they were all dedicated to their jobs and willing to work extra hours, often for no extra money. Wendy would sometimes do the work of the carers if necessary, even though her training meant she should not be asked to do menial work, but she never objected in a case of emergency.
Beatrice’s longest-serving carers were Tilly and Kelly, both of whom seemed devoted to St Saviour’s, and although Tilly had married she hadn’t left them, nor did she intend to until she had children. Kelly had a long-standing boyfriend, but no plans for marriage as far as Beatrice was aware. She supposed it was because both she and her friend had families to look after at home, but neither of them confided in her as Nancy and Wendy did. Nurse Michelle had recently given her a month’s notice, because she was having another child, and that meant Beatrice would have to try and find a replacement. It was so difficult to find a good staff nurse willing to work at the home. These days they were all busy at the hospitals, perhaps because nursing wasn’t as popular an occupation with young girls as it had once been. Beatrice had read something about nurses from overseas wanting to come to Britain and she wondered if perhaps she might be luckier if she took on a nurse from another country – and yet there might be difficulty in getting permission for them to work here for more than a few months.
If Angela were here she would know exactly what to do about that sort of thing. Beatrice had resented it when she’d first been appointed as Administrator for the orphanage but she certainly felt the lack of Angela’s organising skills …
A knock at her door made Beatrice look up. Most of her staff simply knocked once and put their head round the door, but this person had knocked twice and was obviously waiting for an invitation to enter.
‘Come in then,’ Beatrice said impatiently. She wasn’t really surprised when Ruby Saunders entered. The young woman was wearing a brown pleated skirt and a fawn jacket over a brown jumper. Her dark-brown hair was dragged back into a tight knot and she’d clipped it firmly back with brown slides. Her complexion was pale and she wore only the faintest smear of pale-pink lipstick. She certainly wasn’t vain about her appearance, that much was apparent, because underneath those dowdy clothes and awful hairstyle there might have been an attractive woman.
‘Ah, Miss Saunders, what may I do for you?’
‘I wondered if you’d heard about Mrs Miller.’
‘Mrs Miller?’ Sister Beatrice frowned as she sought for clarification. ‘Ah, I believe you mean the mother of those children we had brought in last month … Archie and June? No, I don’t believe I’ve heard anything – why?’
‘She’s been committed for trial next week, which means she will almost certainly be given a prison sentence.’
‘You can’t be sure the woman is guilty …’
‘They wouldn’t have brought a trial if they weren’t pretty sure of a conviction,’ Ruby said. ‘It means those children will be without a mother for some time – what shall you do if she’s sent to prison for a long term?’
‘I hadn’t considered it,’ Beatrice said. ‘They will stay here until I’m certain of the outcome and then … well, we may have to send them on to Halfpenny House.’
‘Did you know the Miller girl has been in a lot of trouble at school? She broke a window yesterday by throwing a stone at it and she hit a teacher with a ruler when she was disciplined for bad behaviour.’
‘That was unfortunate,’ Beatrice frowned. ‘I dare say she is very unhappy at what has happened to her. Her mother has been forcibly taken from her and she must wonder what is happening to her life. My carers haven’t reported bad behaviour here at St Saviour’s.’
‘Well, I thought you should know,’ Ruby said. ‘If such behaviour isn’t stopped immediately she may become uncontrollable and once they start down the slippery slope they end up before the courts. Perhaps you should have a quiet word, unless you would prefer me to speak to her?’
‘I believe I am capable of looking after the children in my charge, Miss Saunders. Leave it to me if you please.’
Ruby