Tuesday's Child
Monday’s Child must hide for protection,
Tuesday’s Child
Clare Revell
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Tuesday’s Child
COPYRIGHT 2012 by Clare Revell
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or Pelican Ventures, LLC except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
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Contact Information: [email protected]
All scripture quotations, unless otherwise indicated, are taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version
(R),
NIV
(R),
Copyright 1973, 1978, 1984 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. www.zondervan.com
Cover Art by
Nicola Martinez
White Rose Publishing, a division of Pelican Ventures, LLC
www.pelicanbookgroup.com
PO Box 1738 *Aztec, NM * 87410
White Rose Publishing Circle and Rosebud logo is a trademark of Pelican Ventures, LLC
Publishing History
First White Rose Edition, 2012
Print Edition ISBN 978-1-61116-208-0
Electronic Edition ISBN 978-1-61116-207-3
Published in the United States of America
Monday’s Child must hide for protection,
Tuesday’s Child tenders direction,
Wednesday’s Child grieves for his soul,
Thursday’s Child chases the whole,
Friday’s Child is a man obsessed,
Saturday’s Child might be possessed,
And Sunday’s Child on life’s seas is tossed,
Awaiting the Lifeboat that rescues the lost.
Dedication
To Grandad.
Deaf for most of his life, we had wonderful conversations with the white board and marker pen. Gone but never forgotten.
Thanks to Detective Constable Philip Wilson for the police procedure advice.
Other Titles by Clare Revell
Novels
After the Fire
Monday’s Child
Novellas
Season for Miracles
Cassie’s Wedding Dress
Time’s Arrow
Dollar Downloads
Saving Christmas
Free Reads
Kisses from Heaven
Praise for Clare Revell
Season for Miracles
This author definitely has talent and great imagination. Kyle and Holly came to life in this book with so much ease they hardly sounded fictional and so real. The pain and fear that Holly goes through is heartbreaking but I loved that with Kyle anything is possible. This is definitely a book worth reading for it has everything just right for the season: God and hope. ~Lena, Happily Ever After Reviews
Saving Christmas
Clare Revell does it again with this beautiful story of hope and redemption.
Saving Christmas
packs a lot of story into a limited number of pages, and draws the reader in from the very first line. It’s a wonderful respite from the hectic holiday to-do list. ~Author Mary Manners
Cassie’s Wedding Dress
When long-time friends Jack and Cassie reconnect, you think the ride is almost over, but Ms. Revell has a few surprises left in this short, sweet, and emotionally satisfying story. I’ll be watching for Clare Revell’s next book. Five stars for
Cassie’s Wedding Dress
! ~ Author Dora Hiers
Time’s Arrow
I stand in awe of Revell’s ability to pack an entire novel’s worth of action and emotion into so few pages. ~Author Delia Latham
1
Tuesday’s Child tenders direction…
Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Philippians 4: 5-7
That girl really has no sense of time whatsoever.
Manning the reception desk of Datura Doll Hospital wasn’t Adeline Monroe’s idea of fun. She was more of a hands-on person than a receptionist, and as soon as Susie returned from her break, Adeline would be where she belonged—out back mending the growing pile of dolls and teddy bears. The doll hospital she ran with her best mate, Jasmine, seemed to be one of the few businesses on the High Street not struggling in the current economic climate. She guessed it was because no one wanted to buy new if old could be repaired.
Besides, nothing spoke comfort like the teddy you’d grown up with and shared many a nightmare and secret with.
Constant rain hit soundlessly against the windows. So much for the unbroken sunshine and temperatures of seventy-seven degrees Fahrenheit predicted for today. Adeline chuckled. Of course the Met Office hadn’t forecast the hurricane that had completely devastated the south of England a couple of years ago, either. Hopefully, this storm wouldn’t be a repeat. Even if it did mean she no longer had to water the plants when she got home tonight.
Drumming her fingers on the desk, she eyed the clock and sighed. Susie’s hour break seemed to get longer each day. “Where is she?”
She glanced down. Ben, her black and white Cavalier King Charles spaniel, sat resting his head on his front paws, one ear cocked open as always. His coat shone, and he opened his mouth in a long lazy yawn before raising his dark, soulful eyes up to her.
“You think Susie’s taking a nap somewhere, huh, Ben?” she asked, reaching down and stroking him. “More likely she’s run into that boyfriend of hers and lost track of time.”
The door flung open letting a blast of wind and rain in with it. Ben jumped up and pushed at Adeline. She acknowledged him by rubbing his ears and then twisted her head to glance over at the door. “Hello.”
A small child stood in the doorway, her coat flapping undone and dripping a puddle of rainwater onto the floor. A pale blue bobble hat with woolen braids hanging off the ear flaps was pulled down snugly over her head. Known as ‘dappy’ hats, they were all the rage.
Adeline even had one hanging on the peg in her hallway.
A doll clutched in her hand, chest heaving, the child stood motionless, her gaze darting around.
I know it’s raining, but a wooly hat in the middle of summer? It’s not as if it’s cold.
“Hello? Can I help you?” Adeline moved around the desk towards her.
“She’s broken.” The child held out the one-armed doll, tears streaking her face. “It said doll hospital...” She turned her head away, and Adeline missed the last half of the sentence.
“I’m sorry. I need you to face me so I can read your lips. I’m deaf.”
The child turned back, staring at her, eyes wide with wonder. “For real? You can’t hear anything I say?”
Adeline shook her head. “Nope, but if you look at me when you speak, I can read your lips.”
“But you can talk. I thought deaf people only talked with their hands. They didn’t have voices ‘cause they didn’t need them.”
Adeline smiled at her, signing as she spoke. It was refreshing to be with someone who said what they thought instead of hiding their reaction. “I can talk with my hands
and
my voice. I could hear just like you can until I was five. So what did you say?”
“I said the sign said doll hospital, but it doesn’t look like a hospital. There aren’t any beds. And it doesn’t have that funny smell.”
“Well, when you go to the people hospital are there beds in reception?”
The child wiped her nose on her sleeve and hiccoughed through the tears. “No. I guess not.”
“Nor here. What happened to your doll?” Adeline pulled a tissue from the box on the counter and offered it to the sobbing child.
“Uncle Nate broke her.”
“I’m sure he didn’t mean to.”
She nodded her head vigorously. “Yeah, he did.”
“What’s your name?”
“Don’t have one.”
Really? I thought everyone had a name.
Adeline bit her lip, wondering how she could find out
.
Maybe deal with the doll first and make friends that way.
“All right. Tell you what. Let’s take your doll into the next room and check her over. Does she have a name?” She stood and reached for the peg behind her, pulling her white doctor’s coat over her street clothes.
“Her name’s Amelia Jane like in the story. Only she’s not bad.” She scrutinized Adeline’s badge. “Doctor...what’s that word?”
“That’s my name. Dr. Adeline.”
“That’s a pretty name.”
“Thank you. I expect yours is pretty, too.”
The child shook her head.
Adeline grabbed a clipboard with forms on it and smiled. “If you come this way, we’ll get her on a bed and fill in some paperwork. Then I’ll check her over.”
She led the way through the side door, Ben by her heels, and grinned at the expression of wonder that came over the child’s face. It was the same every time, but she never grew tired of seeing their faces light up on their first view of the hospital she and her father had created.
Doll-sized beds lined the shelves set at chair height along each wall. Each bed contained a doll or teddy with bandages in the appropriate places. Some had miniature IV’s set up, while others had tiny oxygen cylinders by the bed. A sign on the wall announced visiting times, and each bed had a vase of flowers on the side table. A chair placed next to each bed ensured any visitor could drop by properly.
“Wow, wow, wow.” The child slowly turned around.
“What do you think?” Adeline asked, unable to read her lips.
The girl grinned at her, eyes like saucers. “It’s amazing. Just like the real thing.”
“And just like the real thing, I need you to book Amelia Jane in while I examine her. Pop her up on the couch for me. Did you bring her arm?”
“And her finger.” The child set the doll gently onto the exam couch and pulled the arm and finger from her pocket, putting them next to the doll. Her hand touched the doll’s face, as if she were reassuring her that everything was going to be all right.
Adeline handed the clipboard over and set about her work checking the doll. The crack on the doll’s forehead was superficial. A little glue and paint and it would be gone. The arm could be reattached with a new elastic band and the finger would just need a little glue and paint. She glanced up. “How’s the form coming on?”
The child handed it back.
“You have lovely handwriting. It’s almost as neat as mine.” Adeline skimmed it and pointed to a blank line. “You didn’t put your name on here where it says next of kin.”
“What’s that mean?”
“That’s the name of the main person who looks after the doll, so we know who to talk to about her and ring when she’s better. Usually her mummy or daddy, but not always. I’m guessing that’s you, so you need to put your name in there.”
“Uncle Nate said never to tell strangers my name.”
“Uncle Nate is a very wise man, but I’m not a stranger. I’m Amelia Jane’s doctor, and I need to know what to call you.” She tilted her head. “I can’t call you Amelia Jane’s mummy.”
“True.” She took the clipboard back and, tongue hovering over her bottom lip, painstakingly wrote her name down.
“Vianne Ophelié Holmes. That’s a very pretty name. Did I pronounce it right?”
