An Orphan’s Courage

‘You think your threat was not related to her act of desperation?’ the inspector asked sarcastically. ‘Did you not know the girl’s history, Miss Saunders? As a child she was sexually abused and beaten systematically, and when she fought back she was locked in a cellar until she ceased screaming. We knew she was a thief and a little wild, but we sent her here rather than a remand home to give her a chance for a better life – your threats affected her mind powerfully and she went into a decline after her attempt at suicide and is now in the care of a psychiatrist in a secure hospital.’

‘I didn’t realise she’d been locked in a cellar …’ Ruby felt hot and uncomfortable. ‘I do not see that I can be held accountable for what happened to her at the remand home.’

‘Neither did Miss Sampson,’ the inspector told her. ‘However, it has been decided that we shall visit more often in future and see how things are going here. For the moment I find that everything is in order – but I must tell you that the Department frowns on the use of threats …’

Ruby had fretted with frustration after that last visit. It wasn’t her fault if a wild girl had tried to take her own life because she’d been sent to a place where the discipline was harsh. Besides, the attempt had failed and had probably been staged to gain attention. Betty was now in a hospital and most likely running rings round the staff there …

She glowered at the wall that divided her office from the orphanage next door. It had been Ruby’s ambition to take over there when Sister Beatrice retired – and surely that couldn’t be much longer.

She wondered what Miss Sampson had to say to her and hoped she wasn’t in her bad books again …

‘Well, that is the intention,’ Ruth Sampson said, giving Ruby a triumphant look. ‘It isn’t confirmed yet, because we still have to come to terms with the Board of St Saviour’s – but I’m fairly certain that it will go ahead by the end of the year. We shall take over the whole building and you will be in charge of both sides … if you wish to accept the position …’

‘Yes, of course …’ Ruby stared at her, unsure of what she was hearing. ‘You’re saying they’re closing their doors and we’ll be in complete control of the orphans as well as our girls …’

‘Yes, that is the idea. St Saviour’s cannot continue to support two homes, as I’m sure they realised, but they kept it on because Sister Beatrice fought the closure and local people supported her – but now they’ve realised it is untenable …’

‘What will happen to her – to Sister Beatrice?’ Ruby asked, feeling an odd pang of sympathy for the woman she’d resented at the start but now rather admired from afar.

‘Her methods are outdated and since I am in overall charge I should not accept her continuing presence. You will run the kind of home we require with the proper standards. We shall continue to take in children from the streets for a short time, but other centres are being planned and eventually we shall be what we are now but much larger … It makes more sense for sick children to be dealt with in specialised centres these days before being moved out to the country. The nurses next door are an unnecessary luxury.’

‘Yes, I suppose so …’ Ruby was a little disappointed. She’d quite liked the idea of taking in the children in need. ‘So it will happen by Christmas?’

‘Possibly the following January … but it isn’t settled yet. There could be complications so you must keep this to yourself. Were it to become known … I wouldn’t put it past that woman to stir up the local population again …’

‘Of course, you may rely on my discretion …’

‘Naturally.’ Miss Sampson smiled. ‘I was sure I could … This will be a promotion for you, Ruby.’

Ruby agreed and left the office, feeling thoughtful as she walked back to her home. Once, she’d thought she felt more for Miss Sampson than she ought, but the gloating in her eyes as she’d spoken of Sister Beatrice’s dismissal had left a nasty taste in Ruby’s mouth. Ruby didn’t like the old bat much, but she did respect her and felt oddly guilty that she was being sent packing just like that. It seemed unfair after all her years of service …

As she entered the building where her small flat was situated, Ruby saw a young woman burdened down with parcels and bags and realised she must be moving into the vacant apartment above. Seeing the girl drop some of her parcels, she darted forward as the lift opened.

‘Here, I’ll give you a hand with those,’ she said and scooped them up. ‘I’m Ruby and I live in the flat below you.’

‘Hi, I’m Carla.’ The girl’s bright eyes made Ruby feel an odd tingle at her nape and she dropped her own. The flame of her hair as it curled about her face was striking and there was something about the girl that instantly appealed, her smile reaching out to Ruby’s lonely heart. ‘Come on up, I’ll be glad of help with all this lot – and then perhaps we can get to know one another over a cup of coffee …’

‘Well, I’ll give you a hand in with all this stuff – but I’ve got some reports to write this evening.’ Ruby saw Carla’s smile dim and wished the words unsaid, but she couldn’t go back on them and perhaps it was best she didn’t. Ruby couldn’t afford to get too close to a girl like this; she had to think about her career …

CHAPTER 3 (#u5d3cd0a3-984e-521e-9d9e-34dae630d19a)

‘Keep yer mouth shut, Beth,’ Andy Rutherford hissed at his sister as they trailed in the wake of the police sergeant. ‘If they know where we came from they’ll send us back, and I’d rather die than be made to do that.’

His younger sister Beth nodded, silent and instinctively obedient. Her large brown eyes were wide with distress as she held on to Andy’s hand, her face pale with fear. The last thing she wanted was to be sent back to a life that terrified her. She was seven years old, pale and vulnerable, and all she’d known in her short life was abuse, hunger and fear. Love was something she felt for her elder brother, because he was her protector and her refuge, though she couldn’t put a name to her feelings. She only knew she was safe with Andy: he’d taken a beating for her more than once, saving her from the Beast …

‘It ’ull be all right,’ he whispered with a reassuring smile, his eyes lighter in colour than hers and his sturdiness making him seem so much stronger and fitter than his sister. ‘Not like before …’

Beth’s hand trembled in his and nodded silently. She believed in Andy, who was six years her senior and seemed to the timid girl wise and brave and her only protection from those who wanted to hurt her.

Sergeant Sallis glanced back at them and smiled kindly. ‘Don’t be frightened, Beth,’ he said. ‘I told your brother they were good people here and they are. Sister Beatrice looks stern, but she’s the kindest person I know – and Staff Nurse Wendy is lovely, as is Sister Rose.’

‘Why are they called sisters?’ Andy asked curiously. ‘Is it a place for nuns?’

‘Bless you no, it’s a proper children’s home, one of the best around,’ the police officer said. ‘Sister Beatrice is a nun but she’s also a nursing sister – and Sister Rose used to work in the London hospital.’

‘That’s where they took Ma when she was bad,’ Beth said and Andy squeezed her hand hard, making her look at him in protest. ‘I wasn’t going to say,’ she whispered.

Sergeant Sallis looked from one to the other, but didn’t press for more information, merely nodding to himself before moving off again. Beth was a little nervous of anyone in uniform, but Andy had told her they could trust him.

‘You can tell by his eyes,’ Andy had whispered to her when the police had taken them in and fed them. ‘He’s all right, Beth. I wouldn’t trust him just because he’s a copper, mind. It’s the way he smiles with his eyes and means it – not like the Beast …’

Beth felt sick at the mention of the Beast. She’d clung to her brother, shielding behind him as the policeman told them he was taking them to a place where they would be safe and looked after. Once before, after their mother died, someone had told them that and it hadn’t been true, because they’d been made to go and live with the Beast, but Andy was listening and agreeing to the policeman’s suggestion.

‘We’ve got to do what he says for now,’ he’d whispered to Beth. ‘It won’t be for long, love. As soon as I can work I’ll find us some rooms and I’ll look after you. I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again …’

Beth nodded, and held on tightly to her brother’s hand. She’d been cold and hungry for days, because they’d slept rough in a little deserted shed down by the railway, living on the food Andy managed to beg or steal. He’d tried to get work, because he was strong, but the bosses kept turning him away – he wasn’t old enough to work legally, they said, and they would be in trouble if they let him do a man’s job. Once or twice since their escape, Andy had found work washing down lorries that had carted dirty loads and he’d come back to her stinking like drains, but the only place he could wash was in the men’s toilets and he had to be careful. He’d taken his shirt off to wash once and a queer bloke had come after him, offering him money to do something that Andy thought was rude. So now he filled bottles of water and they washed their faces and hands as best they could in their little hut, but both of them were itching and Beth thought she’d seen something moving in her brother’s hair. She shuddered at the thought and longed to be clean again, but she would remain dirty all her life rather than go back there … to the Beast’s house.

She felt sick at the memory of the months since her mother’s illness and sudden death in hospital. Left alone at the mercy of the Beast, they had lived in terror, never knowing whether he would return drunk or sober. Beth sometimes thought her step-father was worse sober than when he was drunk; drink mellowed him for a while and if she was careful and kept out of his way, she had little to worry about. However, when he was sober, he swore at them both, expected Beth to do the chores her mother had done and gave them very little to eat. They were, he vowed, nothing but a nuisance and he could not be bothered to bring up children who were not his.

‘The silly bitch shouldn’t have gone poking her nose in where there was sickness,’ he muttered furiously as he landed a blow on Beth’s arm when she reached for a piece of bread spread thinly with dripping. ‘If she hadn’t gone and caught scarlet fever, we should’ve been eating a decent dinner instead of this rubbish – and I’m havin’ that last slice so keep your dirty fingers orf it!’

Andy was made to do all the chores Beth couldn’t manage, like digging the allotment and cleaning the gutters out when the rain came pouring down the walls because they were choked with filth. He had to polish the Beast’s boots and clean the bike he used to get to his work in the canning factory, fetch him fags and beer from the pub on the corner, and clean the stove out in the mornings, as well as putting the rubbish out in the bins. All the jobs the man of the house was supposed to do and the Beast had never bothered with, leaving them to his long-suffering wife and then her young son.

Beth wasn’t good at ironing and sometimes she got a few blows because she’d creased the Beast’s trousers wrongly or scorched his shirt. When he wasn’t at work, and despite his slovenliness about the house, Beth’s step-father liked to dress well if he was going out. He’d tried to thrash her when she’d accidentally scorched his best blue shirt and Andy had stepped in to stop him, but the Beast had turned on Andy, beating him until he fell to the ground and lay still.

The Beast had stared at the boy lying unconscious at his feet and shrugged, before snarling at Beth, ‘Tell anyone about this and I’ll kill the pair of you. I’m going out …’

He’d slammed off out of the house, leaving Beth to kneel by her brother’s side and bathe his forehead with cool water as she wept. Andy had come round at last, feeling sick and woozy, but gradually the mist had cleared, and that was when he’d told her that they had to run away.

‘But where shall we go?’ Beth asked plaintively. She hated the Beast but she was even more terrified by the idea that they would run off somewhere, because at least in this house that had been their father’s they had beds and there was sometimes food to eat.

‘We’ve got to go, Beth,’ her brother insisted. ‘Next time he will kill us – besides, he’ll probably have us put in a home somewhere if we stay. He doesn’t want us around now that Ma is dead, and I hate him.’

‘I hate him too,’ Beth agreed, and allowed him to persuade her that they should escape while their step-father was out down the working men’s club he liked to visit on Friday nights, playing darts for the local team.

They’d taken some of their clothes, the few that fitted and weren’t falling apart with wear; they’d also taken an old flask that had once belonged to their father filled with water from the tap, what was left of the bread and dripping, Andy’s pocket knife, two chipped mugs and two spoons from the drawer, two towels, their spare shoes, Beth’s rag doll and a Biggles book that Andy’s father had given him long ago.

There was no money in the house. The Beast had made sure of that, giving Beth’s mother only a small amount for shopping each week. After her death he paid for everything himself, never sparing a copper for either of the kids, and giving them only enough food to survive and that grudgingly.

Perhaps it was because they’d been hungry for a long time that the hardships of life on the streets hadn’t hit them immediately, but by the time the police picked them up after a tip-off from one of the railway workers, Beth was so hungry she cried most of the time, and Andy wasn’t much better.

The promise of baths, food and clean clothes was tempting and Beth’s feelings swayed between apprehension and hope when the policeman told her they were nearly there. When she looked up at the severe building with its grimy walls and small windows up in the attics, she pulled back and her fear made her want to run, but Andy pressed her hand and Sergeant Sallis smiled at her, as if he sensed her nervousness.

‘It’s all right, Beth,’ he said. ‘It doesn’t look much, but it’s warm and they look after you here. I promise you … cross my heart and hope to die if I tell a lie …’

A reluctant smile came to her face and she stepped forward, some of her fear evaporating as she saw a woman in a pale grey uniform and a white frilly cap standing in the hall.

‘Ah, you must be Andy and this is Beth,’ the nurse said and her smile lit up her face. ‘My name is Staff Nurse Wendy, and I’m going to look after you. I think you both need a nice wash and then I’ll tuck you up in bed and bring you something lovely to eat.’