An Orphan’s Wish: The new, most heartwarming of christmas novels you will read in 2018

‘The children were rehearsing a play at her school,’ Meg said. ‘Priscilla was in it. Leading light, I believe. Her dad was going to fetch her after the rehearsal. He never turned up, so she refuses to think they died. They were both mangled, apparently …’ Meg drew in a shaky breath. ‘There’s never been a proper service. It’s all so sad.’

Lana shuddered. ‘How long ago was it?’

‘Must be two or three months. She’s now living at Bingham Hall – the orphanage. From what I hear, she’s most unhappy. But then who wouldn’t be, becoming an orphan overnight? But you mustn’t use that word to her or she goes barmy. I feel so sorry for her.’ Meg gathered the dirty cups and plates. ‘The trouble is, the shock seems to have affected her brain. She’s a bright child, really.’ Meg took the dishes to the sink. She turned round to Lana and wiped her hands on her apron. ‘The police had to break the news to her about her parents but she doesn’t believe them. She thinks if she is very, very good they’ll be restored to her.’

‘Oh, what a heart-breaking story,’ Lana said, tears springing to her eyes as she pictured the child trying to take in such terrible news from strangers.

‘It was a shame Mr Benton hadn’t joined up before it happened,’ Meg went on. ‘He was a strict headmaster and was not the best person to help Priscilla in those first dreadful weeks. She needed love and kindness and understanding – which is where you’ll be able to help, I’m sure.’

There was simply no possibility for Lana to tell this nice cook that nothing was definite. Not after seeing the despair on Priscilla’s face and Meg telling her the child’s background.

‘Changing the subject, what did you think of the cottage?’ Meg asked.

‘A mess,’ Lana answered without hesitation. ‘And that’s being kind.’

Meg chuckled. ‘Yes, Janice is not the most house-proud woman.’

‘It was so bad I almost decided there and then I couldn’t stay,’ Lana said, smiling. ‘But I’m looking for a challenge, so I might reconsider.’

‘Now you’re talking,’ Meg said, putting the shepherd’s pie into a basket. She set it on the table in front of Lana. ‘Well, this evening will give you the chance to get to know Janice. Her bark’s often worse than her bite.’

Lana walked back to the cottage, keeping the basket steady, all the time thinking about Priscilla and Janice. She realised she hadn’t thought about her own anger over Dickie’s death all afternoon. Maybe this was just what she needed. To stop thinking about herself and be aware that other people were going through misery of their own. And poor Priscilla was still only a child – so much for a young girl to bear. Was it meant to be that Lana had come to the school to help her?

She didn’t believe in fate so that was nonsense. And anyway, she had to face Janice first of all. She’d soon know if Janice was going to thaw out or not if she didn’t respond positively to Meg’s delicious-smelling pie.

Feeling a little silly, Lana knocked on the door, then tried the handle. It swung open. She could hear scuffling in the kitchen.

‘It’s me,’ she called, but there was no response. A smell of cabbage wafted through. She gave a wry smile and went into the kitchen. Janice had set the table for supper.

‘Oh, you’re back,’ Janice said, glancing up, then lifting the lid of a saucepan. ‘Just dump the dish on the table. I’ve made some cabbage to go with it,’ she added unnecessarily.

‘I’m hungry just smelling everything.’ Lana set the dish on a tablemat. ‘I meant to bring a sandwich for the train but forgot, and breakfast seems a long time ago – apart from Meg’s toasted bun, that is.’ She smiled but there was no response from Janice who was frowning as she tried a shred of cabbage.

‘I think it’s done,’ she said, turning off the gas, ‘so we may as well eat early.’

Janice was very quiet during the meal, not inviting conversation. Lana could hear herself swallow. It unnerved her. How on earth could she even contemplate sharing a cottage with such a woman? And yet … Meg had said she didn’t used to be so morose. Something must have happened, but how could she broach any kind of personal question when she’d only just arrived at the school? Well, there was one question she could ask.

‘Janice, will you tell me the truth?’

Janice looked up, her eyes wide. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Are you all right about sharing the cottage with me?’

‘Not really, if you must know, but I don’t have any say in it.’

‘Well, at least you’ve been honest,’ Lana said. This is going to be even more difficult than I thought. ‘Any particular reason?’

‘As you can see, I like to spread my things around. And I don’t like being nagged about it.’

‘Sounds like you’ve shared the cottage with someone else and it didn’t work out.’

‘It was a disaster,’ came the swift reply. ‘And I don’t want to repeat it.’

‘Was it another teacher?’

‘Yes. And the teacher happened to be my husband.’

Lana put her knife and fork neatly together and waited for her to continue.

‘Not unusual in normal circumstances,’ Janice said, her lip curling, ‘but unbeknown to me, he was carrying on with someone else – one of the school cleaners. Can you believe it?’ She threw Lana a fierce look.

Lana’s hand flew to her mouth. ‘Oh, my goodness. When was this?’

‘Two Christmases ago. I threw him out. He’d have to have joined up anyway, so it was no real hardship. And I’ve been quite happy on my own, thank you very much. My divorce should be through any day now.’

‘I admit that what happened to you was pretty awful,’ Lana said, rising from the table and taking the plates over to the sink to wash. ‘But you’ll meet someone else one day. Until then, you mustn’t allow yourself to be bitter or it will ruin your life.’

Isn’t that what Mum and Dad and my friends keep telling me? And do I take any notice?

‘How dare you talk to me about bitter!’ Janice sounded so raw and angry that Lana immediately returned to her seat at the table. ‘How could I expect you, or anyone, to understand?’ Janice continued through gritted teeth. ‘He was living a lie.’ Her voice rose. ‘It’d been going on nearly a year – right under my nose.’ She paused, and Lana saw the dark eyes flash with fury. ‘So just when I’m enjoying a bit of peace and trying to come to terms with a divorce, you turn up, and I’m told to welcome someone I don’t know – never set eyes on. I’m used to living on my own … having things the way I want.’ She shot up from her chair. ‘And as far as meeting anyone else, you can forget it. I’ve had it up to here with men.’ She drew a finger across her throat. ‘And I don’t intend making that mistake again.’

Lana washed the dishes on her own, and then excused herself, saying she was tired from the journey. It was a relief to read her book, and then settle in for an early night. It was quite true. She was exhausted, physically and mentally. Bingham school was certainly giving her plenty to think about.

Chapter Seven (#ulink_e241035e-c1a3-55af-bcc6-037a55962969)

Lana awoke early. Where was she? Peeling flowered wallpaper surrounded her. And the cheap furniture with bubbling grain wasn’t hers. Light was filtering through from somewhere behind her head and what seemed only a few feet away she could hear loud snoring. And then she remembered. She was in one of the bedrooms in the cottage in the grounds of Bingham school. And the snorer across the landing was Janice.

She jerked upright and swung her long legs out of bed. Her watch showed half past five. She could easily have another hour but she was going to be first into the bathroom to beat Janice.

By the time Lana had washed and dressed and discovered some porridge oats, she heard footsteps above, pacing up and down. Perhaps Janice was desperately trying to work out how she was going to accept sharing. Lana struck a match and lit the gas ring, then stirred the thickening mixture with a battered wooden spoon. When it was ready she popped the lid on and called up the stairs.

‘Janice. I’ve made some porridge.’

Silence. After a few seconds a voice answered, ‘Don’t eat the stuff.’ Janice’s dark head appeared. ‘I don’t have anything to eat until dinnertime.’

‘Well, at least have a cup of tea.’ Lana bit back her irritation.

‘All right. Be down in a minute.’

Lana had finished her porridge by the time Janice appeared. She did at least sit down and drink her tea.

‘I wanted to ask something,’ Lana said.

‘Long as it’s not personal,’ Janice answered immediately.

‘No, it’s not. It’s about Priscilla. Do you teach her?’

‘Yes. History and geography, but it’s hard going,’ Janice said, gulping the rest of her tea.