Without Sin (8 page)

‘It’s all right,’ Meg soothed. ‘Miss Daley’s had to go down to the master’s office. I’m here to look after you.’

The fear faded from Betsy’s blue eyes as Meg smoothed the damp tendrils of fair hair back from the young girl’s forehead. ‘Try to sleep,’ she whispered.

‘I want my mammy,’ Betsy said, her mouth quivering. The girl looked about ten years old. She was very thin and, at this moment, very poorly.

‘Where is she? In the women’s section?’

Betsy shook her head and bit her lip. ‘No, she died.’

‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ was all Meg could say. After a pause she asked, ‘What about your dad? Where’s he?’

‘He’s gone away.’

Meg nodded. ‘Yes, so’s mine. He’s gone to look for work and then he’ll come back for us.’

‘That’s what my dad said.’ Betsy’s voice trembled. ‘But he’s been gone two years.’

Meg bit her lip. She didn’t know what to say to comfort the child, so she just sat beside her and held her hand. Betsy slept fitfully, dozing for a few moments then tossing and turning
with fever and whimpering pitifully. The minutes crawled by. Meg kept looking at Louisa’s watch hardly able to believe that the time was going so slowly. Once she held it to her ear to see if
it was still going. Reassured by the low tick-tick-tick, she was about to replace it on the top of the cabinet, when Betsy reached out her hand.

‘Let me hear it,’ she said.

Meg held the watch close to the little girl’s ear. Betsy’s tiny mouth trembled and tears welled in her eyes. ‘My daddy had a watch like that. He – he used to let me
listen to it.’

Meg held it there for a few moments until Betsy was asleep once more. She seemed calmer now and her face was not so flushed. Carefully, Meg placed the watch back on top of the chest, noting the
time as she did so. Another five minutes, she decided, and then, if Betsy was still asleep, she would creep away and go down to the master’s office. Now even the seconds dragged and Meg
fidgeted, agitatedly biting the nail of her little finger. When only three minutes had passed, she jumped up, unable to wait a second longer. With one last glance at Betsy, she crept towards the
door. Its creaking echoed in the silence and Meg held her breath, sure that it would wake not only the sick little girl, but half the dormitory too. As quietly as she could, she pulled the door to
and tiptoed down the centre of the long room. On either side, the children slept on straw mattresses in wooden beds pushed close together. Curled beneath rough blankets, some slept silently, while
others snuffled and muttered in their sleep. Bobbie, Meg noticed thankfully, was one of those sleeping peacefully, but in the end bed nearest the door to the landing, she could hear muffled sobs.
Meg paused, wanting to comfort the child, yet not liking to linger. She was nervous enough about lying to the master, even if it was to save Louisa from his clutches. What if he insisted on coming
up to the dormitory to see Betsy for himself and found her asleep and looking, if anything, better not worse?

Meg moved on, out onto the landing and down the stairs. At the bottom she stood outside the master’s office door. She paused a moment, listening for the sound of voices from beyond the
door.

She could hear nothing.

Her heart pounding, Meg took a deep breath and rapped urgently on the door. Isaac Pendleton’s exasperated voice called, ‘Come in.’

Meg rushed into the room. ‘Oh, Miss Daley, do come. It’s Betsy. I’m sure she’s worse. I didn’t know what to do.’

Louisa was sitting on the sofa with the master close beside her, his arm around her shoulders. She stood up at once and placed the cup and saucer she was holding on the low table. Then she
turned to face Meg. ‘I’ll come at once.’ She glanced down at Isaac. ‘I’m so sorry, but I must go. The child is very sick. I really shouldn’t have left her . .
.’

Isaac struggled to his feet. He put his arm around her again and hugged her to him. ‘Your concern does you credit, my dear.’ Then he turned frosty eyes upon Meg. ‘But you
should have fetched the matron, girl. Miss Daley deserves a night off now and again. She works far too hard as it is.’ His eyes narrowed and Meg read the threat in them. Suddenly, he was once
again the bullnecked, angry tyrant wielding power over all the people in his charge – staff and inmates alike. ‘If I’m to allow you to continue as Miss Daley’s assistant,
you’ll have to cope better than this.’

Meg dropped her gaze. ‘I’m sorry, sir,’ she said meekly for the second time that day. ‘I – I was just so frightened. Betsy’s breathing. It sounds awful . .
.’

Louisa eased herself away from Isaac. ‘I’d better go. Perhaps, if she settles again, I can come back.’

‘Please do, my dear.’ Isaac’s voice was husky, but with one last squeeze he released her.

Louisa hurried across the room towards Meg, who dared not meet her gaze, so terrified was she that she would break into nervous laughter. ‘Come, Kirkland,’ Louisa said sharply,
keeping up the pretence of being annoyed at the girl’s interruption.

Only when the door had closed behind them and they were hurrying up the stairs, their hands pressed to their mouths to stop their laughter, did Louisa touch Meg’s arm and whisper,
‘Thank you. Oh, thank you, Meg.’

‘I was terrified he’d come with us because she’s asleep.’

‘Oh, you needn’t worry about the master coming to see the children,’ Louisa whispered. ‘He rarely concerns himself with them, except,’ she added wryly, ‘to
administer punishments.’

‘But he came to the school room.’ Before Louisa could reply, Meg answered her own question. ‘Oh, I see. He came to see
you
– not the children.’

‘Exactly,’ Louisa said dryly.

They crept down the dormitory and into Louisa’s room. The candle was guttering, sizzling and casting eerie, dancing shadows around the room, but Betsy was still asleep.

Louisa lit another candle and then gently felt the child’s brow. ‘I don’t think she’s quite so hot.’

‘I bathed her face,’ Meg whispered and Louisa nodded approval. She straightened up and stood looking down at the child for a moment before saying, ‘I think we can leave her to
sleep now.’ She glanced round the tiny room as she added, ‘But I’m afraid we’re going to have to leave testing your arithmetic for tonight. We shall disturb her if we stay
here and I really daren’t go back down to the school room. It’s too near his office . . .’ Louisa’s voice trailed away, but Meg understood. ‘Maybe tomorrow.’

‘It’s all right,’ Meg smiled. ‘I want to try to see me mam again before I go to bed.’

‘Off you go then, dear,’ Louisa waved her towards the door, then paused and said, ‘Oh, just before you go, where is my watch?’

Meg pointed towards the chest. ‘It’s on the top there—’ she began and then her mouth fell open in horror.

The watch was not there.

‘Where is it? Where’s my watch? What have you done with it?’ Louisa’s voice rose hysterically, no thought now for the sick Betsy or even the sleeping
children in the dormitory. ‘Have you stolen it?’

Thunderstruck and hurt beyond words that anyone could think such a thing of her, Meg gasped. She felt her face turning fiery red and knew that Louisa would see it as guilt.

‘No,’ she cried as, in the bed behind them, Betsy stirred and whimpered. But Meg was beyond caring too. ‘How dare you accuse me of such a thing? I’d never take a penny
that didn’t belong to me. I’d starve first.’ Dramatically, she held out her arms wide. ‘You can search me. Go on, search me.’

‘You’d hardly have it on you, would you?’ Louisa muttered. ‘You must have hidden it somewhere.’

In a moment the blossoming friendship between Meg and the young schoolmistress was torn asunder. Meg shook her head in fear and disbelief. What was happening to her? From living in a cosy
cottage with her mother, father and brother she had been brought to this – a pauper cast into the workhouse by her own father, stripped of her clothes and possessions, separated from her
family. And now, worse even than all that, she was being branded a thief.

She thrust her face towards Louisa. ‘Well, I haven’t.’

But Louisa stood her ground. ‘Then where is it? You’d better find it and be quick about it.’ The schoolmistress’s pretty face was suddenly pale with anger, her eyes no
longer soft and kindly, but dark with suspicion.

Wildly, Meg looked about her. What could have happened to the watch? Had someone crept into the room whilst she had been downstairs fetching Louisa? Had one of the children—?

Betsy stirred and murmured. ‘Daddy – I want my daddy.’

Meg elbowed Louisa aside and wrenched back the covers. There, clutched in Betsy’s small hands and held lovingly close to her heaving chest, lay Louisa’s watch.

‘So that’s where you hid it.’

‘I did not
hide
it,’ Meg almost spat out the words. ‘I told you – I left it on the top of the chest when I came to find you. Betsy must have reached for
it.’

‘Don’t try to put the blame on this poor child. She’s too ill to have got out of the bed.’

‘Well, she can’t have been. I did show it to her – I admit that – I held it to her ear and she listened to its ticking. She said it reminded her of her daddy because he
had one like it. It seemed to comfort her because she fell asleep then.’

For a moment, Louisa stared at Meg then looked down at the watch and then back to Meg’s face. She was struggling with her thoughts. Now that it had been found, she realized she had been
far too hasty in her judgement.

‘Oh, Meg, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have accused you. Please forgive me. I—’

Meg held up her hand, palms outwards. ‘Oh no, don’t start that. You called me a thief and I’ll never forgive you. And don’t expect me to help you any more.
Not—’ she added slowly and deliberately, ‘with
anything
.’ She jerked her head towards the door and her meaning and gesture were clear.
Don’t
, she was
implying,
expect me to help you with the master
.

‘Oh, Meg, please—’

‘Don’t “Oh, Meg” me!’

‘But what about the school? What about you?’

‘I wouldn’t work for you if they
paid
me,’ the girl said vehemently. With that, she moved towards the door.

‘Meg, please don’t go like this. Let’s talk about it.’

‘There’s nothing to say. Too much has been said already.’ With a worldly wisdom beyond her tender years, Meg said, ‘You can’t unsay what you said, Miss
Daley.’ She glanced back briefly. ‘And don’t you be taking it out on our Bobbie, ’cos if you do –’ her eyes narrowed – ‘you’ll regret
it.’

‘You’re hardly in a position to threaten me, Meg.’

‘Oh, I’m not threatening you, miss. I’m
promising
you.’

Meg marched through the dormitory and out of the door at the far end, then ran lightly down the stairs. She paused for a moment outside the master’s office, wondering if she dared to let
him know that the child was not as bad as she had made out and that Louisa Daley was free.

But then she rejected the idea. It would only mean that she had to remain with the children and she didn’t want to do that. She wanted to avoid having to see Louisa Daley any more than she
was forced.

‘Oh, Dad,’ she murmured aloud, ‘please come back for us soon and take us away from this place.’

Sarah’s recovery was slow and made more so by the fact that she was sunk in misery and despair. Each day for the following week, flouting the rules, Meg visited her mother
in the infirmary.

‘I so wanted this baby,’ Sarah whispered to Meg. ‘I know it’s an awful place for a child to be born, but – but I wanted something to remember your daddy
by.’

Meg leant closer. ‘What do you mean, Mam? You make it sound as if Dad isn’t coming back.’

Sarah plucked nervously at the rough blanket covering her, her eyes downcast.

‘Mam?’ Meg prompted, but still her mother did not answer. She closed her eyes and lay back against the hard, lumpy pillow and sighed.

Meg went on. ‘I’m sorry, Mam, but I’ll have to go. I’m working in the gardens today.’ True to her word, she had refused to enter the school room again. The morning
after her quarrel with Louisa, she had marched boldly to the master’s office and rapped sharply on the door.

‘Come in, come in,’ his voice had boomed and Meg opened the door and stepped up to his desk. Standing before him, she felt no fear; she was still smarting with anger from
Louisa’s unfair accusation.

‘I’m sorry, sir,’ she began with her most winning smile. She crossed her fingers behind her back at the lie she was about to tell, ‘but I don’t think I’m
suited to teaching. I haven’t got Miss Daley’s patience.’ That part, at least, was true. ‘I think I’m better suited to working in the kitchens or even outside, sir.
It’s what I’m used to.’

Isaac frowned. ‘Oh? And what makes you think you can pick and choose what job you do here? If I say you’ll help in the school room, then help in the school room you will.’

Meg lowered her head so that he would not see the flash of anger in her green eyes. ‘Yes, sir,’ she said meekly. She waited, holding her breath. She risked glancing at him through
her long eyelashes. He was regarding her thoughtfully. His chair creaked as he leant back in it and laced his fingers across his paunch.

His tone was deceptively mild as he asked, ‘Have you displeased Miss Daley? The truth now, girl, because I can ask her, you know. And she –’ he paused as if savouring the
thought of the schoolmistress – ‘will tell me.’

Quickly, as if the very idea appalled her, Meg said, ‘Oh, I do hope not, sir. She’s a lovely lady and I wouldn’t want to upset her.’ Meg was shocked by how easily the
lies slipped from her lips. She had always prided herself on being truthful and honest, but if she were to be branded as no better than a thief and a liar just because her family had hit hard
times, then . . .

Isaac smiled. ‘I’m glad you think so, my dear. She is indeed a wonderful, wonderful young woman.’ He ran his tongue around his lips. ‘Then what is it?’

‘It was last night, sir. When she – when you and she – when I was left alone with the children, specially with little Betsy, who was so sick. I – I was frightened of
doing something wrong. Of – of displeasing you.’