Читать книгу Christmas for the Halfpenny Orphans - Cathy Sharp, Cathy Sharp - Страница 14

‘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 knickers and socks and picked it up, offering it to Sarah, who snatched it out of her hand and held it to her cheek, which was still damp from her tears.

‘Pa’s pipe come back, Pa come back,’ she said, and looked hopefully at her sister as if trying to make her understand. She sat on the edge of the bed, the broken pipe clutched to her cheek as she crooned the song no one but she could understand.

‘Oh, Sarah,’ Samantha said, wiping the tears from her cheeks with her hanky. ‘Don’t cry. Pa won’t come back; he doesn’t care about us, he never did – I’m so sorry …’

‘I’m sorry I touched your pipe,’ Wendy said, sitting down on the bed and looking at the sisters. ‘I didn’t mean to hurt you, Sarah. I know that it means a lot to you and I wouldn’t throw it away. You must keep it safe with you all the time.’

‘Pa loves his pipe,’ Sarah said. ‘Pa come back for pipe?’

‘No, dearest,’ Samantha told her, putting an arm around her thin shoulders. ‘The pipe is broken. Pa doesn’t want it any more – and he doesn’t want us. Aunt Jane won’t have us both and no one else will. We have to stop here where we’re safe.’

Sarah looked at her. Her song had stopped and she seemed to be weighing up what her sister had told her. ‘Pa not come back for pipe? Not come back for Samantha and Sarah?’

‘No, never,’ Samantha said. ‘He went to sea and left us to fend for ourselves. We couldn’t get any money and we nearly starved, Sarah. Remember how cold and hungry we were before we came here? We have to stay here where it’s warm and they feed us.’

Sarah stared at her in silence for a moment, and then a heart-rending wail rose from deep inside her and she hurled the clay pipe against the wall. It shattered into pieces and fell on the floor.

‘Oh, Sarah – your pipe!’ Wendy rushed to gather up the bowl and one piece of the stem that hadn’t shattered, bringing them back to the sobbing child but she refused to take them, shaking her head furiously. ‘Don’t you want it? I’ll put it in your locker, shall I?’ She bent down to place the two pieces in the locker but Sarah swooped on them and hurled them at the wall, and this time the bowl shattered into small pieces.

‘Hate pipe, hate Pa,’ Sarah cried and then turned her back on Wendy.

Samantha tried to put her arms around her, but she shrugged her off and jumped up, then ran towards the door. Samantha stood indecisively until Wendy asked if she ought to go after her sister.

‘Sarah has to learn that we can’t go back,’ Samantha said, and there were tears on her cheeks now. ‘Pa doesn’t want us, miss; he never did. When we were born it killed our mother – Sarah was the last and our mother wasn’t strong enough. My aunt says Pa will never forgive us …’

Suddenly she was in Wendy’s arms, sobbing out her story, telling her how they’d hidden from their father after he tried to kill Sarah in his fury over the broken pipe.

‘Surely he wouldn’t have meant to harm her?’ Wendy said, shocked.

Samantha drew back, looking at her with the eyes of a child that knew too much.

‘Yes, he would, Nurse. He always hated her. It wasn’t too bad when we were little; we had a lady called Melanie who came in and looked after us. She wasn’t kind to us, but we were clean and we had food – and Pa didn’t hit us. Then one day she got cross with Sarah and hit her, so I shouted at her and told her she was wicked. When Melanie slapped my face, Sarah kicked her ankles for hurting me. So Melanie left. She told Pa she wouldn’t stay in a place with evil children.’

‘Oh, Samantha, I’m so sorry.’ As the weeping girl buried her face in Wendy’s uniform, arms wrapped tightly round her waist, the nurse stroked the girl’s soft hair, encouraging her to let all the misery come pouring out of Samantha. It was as if the floodgates had opened and she couldn’t hold it inside any longer. Her eyes looked enormous in her pale face, dark with anguish and remembered pain.

‘I didn’t mind that she’d gone, but Pa was angry and gave Sarah a good hiding for upsetting her. After that, he didn’t ask anyone to come in, so I cooked what food he brought home and I did my best to look after Sarah … but she breaks things. She doesn’t mean to – they just seem to slip through her fingers. Pa said she was a Child of Satan and threatened to put her away in a place for lunatics. Aunt Jane said that was where she’d put her too, but she’d take me in. Then I woke up and Pa was kicking Sarah, and when we ran away and hid, he went off and left us.’ Samantha paused to draw breath before continuing: ‘He took all the food and money and Mum’s valuables, and there was only rubbish left and the man from the scrapyard wouldn’t even buy the pans I took him – but he gave me five shillin’s for lettin’ him touch my chest.’ Samantha looked up defiantly. ‘I took his money and then kicked his shins and ran off. I took Sarah and we hid in a bombed-out house down by the docks …’

‘Good for you,’ Wendy said, and gave her a hug. ‘In your shoes, I’d have done the same. But now you’re safe here and your aunt will visit you—’

‘Don’t want to see her!’ Samantha drew back in alarm. ‘She’ll put Sarah in one of those awful places!’

‘No, she won’t. I promise you, Sister Beatrice wouldn’t let her do that and neither would Angela or any of us. You belong to us now, Samantha. You’re safe here with us and we’ll take care of you both. Sarah may have to attend a special school – that will be for Sister to decide – but I’m sure that she will keep you both here.’

‘Sarah can do simple sums and things, if I show her,’ Samantha said. ‘She can help with cooking or laying tables, if I tell her what to do – and she can draw people’s faces really well. She isn’t daft.’

‘No, she certainly isn’t. I’m going to tell Miss Angela what you’ve told me; she will talk to Sister and decide what to do. They won’t let anyone take you from us, Samantha. When I tell Angela the whole story, she will be on your side. Now, I think you’d better see if you can find Sarah, love. It’s raining outside and, although it isn’t cold, we don’t want her getting a chill.’