Christmas for the Halfpenny Orphans

Sister’s gaze flickered and Angela thought she saw distress in her eyes, but then the older woman was turning away, leaving her to carry on with her work. The report was almost finished, which left two letters to compose and type up before she would be ready to meet Mark. But as her fingers rattled the keys of the typewriter her mind kept drifting back to Sister Beatrice’s hostility, and wondering what could have provoked it.

Beatrice entered her own office, closing the door behind her and leaning against it for a moment. She had no idea why she’d been so annoyed to find Angela busily typing away at this hour; her assistant was very efficient and saved her endless hours of paperwork, something she’d found irksome in the past. Mark had assured Sister Beatrice that the Administrator’s role was not intended to usurp hers and that the children of St Saviour’s would continue to depend on her experience and her understanding.

She touched the heavy silver crucifix she wore hanging from a long chain about her neck, and then closed her eyes. She must conquer this feeling of anxiety and anger that came over her sometimes in the younger woman’s presence.

‘Forgive me, Lord,’ Beatrice said. ‘Pride and ambition are unworthy sins and I must submit to Thy will for me …’

Yet even as she mouthed the words she knew she would fight with all that was in her to retain her position at St Saviour’s … but why was she feeling threatened? She’d thought she’d managed to put this behind her, to accept that Angela’s position as Administrator was of benefit to all.

She’d felt so inadequate when Terry’s illness had made him a danger to himself and others. Ever since that terrible incident she’d felt tired and strained – and there was something about the two most recent arrivals that made her uneasy.

Feeling a sudden pain in her side, Beatrice gasped and clutched at herself. Perhaps it wasn’t the silence of little Sarah that had brought on this attack of self-doubt and soul-searching. These terrible stabbing pains had been troubling her for a while, and though she rose above it stoically, it was getting steadily worse – and that was what frightened her. What was the source of her pain? Had it been higher in her chest she would have thought it indigestion and ignored it, but this was low on her left side and could be severe, though it didn’t last long.

She drew a sighing breath of relief as the pain receded. It was foolish of her to imagine that she had some dreadful illness. Beatrice knew she ought to visit a doctor and let him examine her, but she was reluctant. If it turned out she had something unpleasant, she might be forced to take a lot of time off work – she might lose her position here.

A quiet existence in the convent did not appeal to her after a busy life at St Saviour’s, and the prospect of being forced to retire due to ill health was one that sent her into the darkest of moods. She loved the hustle and bustle of Halfpenny Street and the surrounding lanes and alleys – so many people going about their work and the rattle of trams in the distance; bicycles, horses and dray carts, and lorries as they passed, and the cry of costermongers as they pushed their hand-carts and offered fruit and veg for sale – and she was not ready for the quiet of the secluded convent. She did not have time to be ill – not when there was so much to do, and so much to lose. St Saviour’s would manage without her, Angela would see to that, Beatrice had no doubt – but she needed her place here.

Her thoughts were interrupted as someone knocked at the door and then Nan poked her head round. She smiled at the woman who was her closest friend; the only person who knew anything about her life before St Saviour’s.

‘You’re still here then,’ Nan said and entered. ‘I’m on duty until midnight, Beatrice. You should get home and rest. You work too hard – and you look a bit peaky.’

‘I’m all right, perhaps a bit tired. I had no more than a few hours’ sleep last night – but we shall be all right now. Staff Nurse Wendy is settling in well. It looks as if we’ve been lucky this time, Nan.’

‘Yes, it looks like it.’

Beatrice nodded, her stern features relaxing as she asked, ‘Have you heard from Alice recently?’

‘She was well when I popped in last night, though a bit lonely with Bob away in the Army. I think she’s landed on her feet there, providing she doesn’t let herself brood on the past too much. We all have to accept that we can’t change the past, even if we wish we could. You and I both know that, Beatrice.’

‘Yes, we do,’ Beatrice agreed. ‘You’re feeling better about your daughter now I think?’

‘Yes, a bit. I shall always miss my Maisie and wish she’d chosen to stay with me, but Eddie says I must accept her decision. She’s Sister Mary now and not the girl I knew at all. You found solace in becoming a nun and it seems my girl has too.’

‘I found a refuge when I needed one – but then I was given the chance to nurse, first at the Infirmary, and then to become Warden here; I’ve never regretted it. I should hate to have to leave.’

‘But why should you?’ Nan looked puzzled. ‘St Saviour’s couldn’t manage without its Sister Beatrice.’

‘No, perhaps it couldn’t,’ Beatrice said. ‘It does me good to talk to you, Nan. Where is your charming old soldier this evening?’

‘Oh, Eddie is away at the moment, visiting his nephew and his wife. They run a grocer’s shop in the country somewhere. They want him to live with them and help look after the shop. I shall miss him if he goes.’

‘Yes, I know.’ Beatrice felt better. The pain had gone and she’d been worrying for nothing. ‘I’m sure he will keep in touch though.’

‘Yes … but letters aren’t like meeting for tea or having him round for lunch, are they? Still, at my age, I couldn’t expect a romance, could I?’

‘Did you want one?’ Beatrice looked closely at her friend, but although Nan seemed to hesitate, she shook her head.

‘No, not a romance … but he was cheerful company. The first man I’ve felt comfortable with for a long time.’

‘I understand. Well, I’d best go home and get some rest. It will be another long day tomorrow.’

‘We never know what will turn up, do we?’

They walked down to the lift together and then parted. Beatrice made her way through the gardens to the Nurses’ Home, and Nan set off on her rounds, making sure everything was quiet and as it should be in the dorms. Nan was probably right, Beatrice thought; for a while she’d been doing the work of two people and that was the reason she’d been feeling a bit under the weather. Now that the new nurse had settled in, things were bound to improve …

FOUR (#u73c8b4c7-7420-526f-9071-074ab27a3f8f)

Michelle came out of a deep sleep slowly as she heard her mother calling her. There was a note of desperation in her voice and Michelle was suddenly wide-awake as the light was snapped on and she saw her mother standing there in the doorway with tears running down her cheeks.

‘What’s wrong, Mum?’ she asked and jumped out of bed. ‘What’s happened?’

‘It’s your father,’ she said. ‘He was coughing and then he sort of choked and brought up this blood and then he fell back against the pillows and I think – I think he might be dead, Michelle …’ Her mother’s eyes were wide with fear.

‘No, he can’t be!’ Michelle cried, running barefoot through to the bedroom next door. She saw at once that her father’s pillows were spotted with blood and there was more on his nightshirt. Heart racing, she rushed to him and bent over to find a pulse. Thankfully, it was there but faint. ‘He’s not dead, Mum. I think he’s passed out – probably felt weak after bringing up that blood …’ She turned and saw that her two young brothers had come to the door and were staring at her in distress. ‘Freddie, go back to bed,’ she said. ‘I’ll get dressed and phone for the doctor.’

‘Can’t you do anything for him?’ Michelle’s mother asked as her father stirred and moaned weakly. ‘He won’t thank you for fetching the doctor.’

‘You look after him, Chelle,’ the elder of her brothers said. ‘I’ll go and ring from the box on the corner.’

Michelle glanced at the alarm clock by the bed; the time was a quarter to five and the doctor wouldn’t be pleased to be called out at this hour.

‘No, wait,’ she said. ‘Dad’s coming round now. Freddie, go back to bed – you too, Ben; go on now. I’ll clean him up and see how he is and then we’ll get the doctor later if we need to.’

‘Michelle’s right,’ her mother said. ‘No arguments. Your father hates a fuss; you know that – so go quietly now and leave this to us. I’ll fetch you some warm water, Michelle …’

Michelle touched her father’s face. He opened his eyes and she saw the fear in them as he became aware of her and then the blood everywhere. She took his hand and he gripped it tightly. His mouth moved but his voice was only a whisper.

‘What … happened?’

‘You had a coughing fit, brought up some blood and then passed out. You’ll be all right in a while; it’s merely the shock.’

‘You didn’t send for the doctor?’ He clutched at her urgently.

‘Not yet, but you must see him, Dad.’

‘Meant to,’ he said. ‘Don’t think I’ve got long, girl. You’ll have to look after your mother and brothers. Ben will be out to work in another few years, but Freddie’s still a boy …’

‘Don’t talk,’ Michelle hushed him as he closed his eyes, clearly exhausted. ‘Try not to think about the blood; there’s not as much as you think.’

‘Yes,’ he said weakly. ‘Ben is sensible but Freddie needs a firm hand. Remember that when I’ve gone.’

‘Shush … the doctor will help when he comes and you’ll soon be better.’

‘You know that’s not true.’ His eyes reproached her. ‘My own fault, but I didn’t want to let you all down – should’ve done something ages ago.’

‘It isn’t too late,’ Michelle said, praying she was right and not giving him false hope. ‘You’ll need to go away if it’s consumption – don’t look like that; you know I’m right. We don’t know for sure what it is – I’ll look after Mum and the boys, I promise.’

‘Not fair on you – should be courting …’