Away in a Manger (11 page)

Winter darkness started to fall outside the high windows and the long ward melted into gloom. Daniel had not stirred. I decided that I would have to go. He was safe here and my son and mother-in-law needed me. But I wanted him to know that I'd been here. Outside the screen I heard the clatter of a trolley. A young orderly pulled back the screen and I watched her react with surprise.

“What are you doing here?” she whispered. “Visiting hours were over long ago.”

“I'm Mrs. Sullivan. My husband was brought in with a gunshot wound.”

“Ah, yes. The policeman.” Her expression softened. “But he's been given morphine. The best you can do for him is let him rest.”

“I know. But when he wakes can you tell him I was here? And I'll be back tomorrow.”

“Of course,” she said. “Don't worry. We'll take good care of him.”

As I gently released his hand his eyes fluttered open.

“Molly?” he murmured.

“I'm here, my darling. You're going to be just fine.”

“That damned fool,” he muttered. “What was he thinking? They don't understand…”

“Don't try to talk now,” I said, bending to kiss his forehead. “I have to go back to Liam and your mother. But I'll be back in the morning.”

His eyes were closed again but he smiled.

“And you have to hurry up and get well for Christmas,” I said. “We have to buy Liam's present.”

“Dog,” he said. “Dog on wheels.”

“That's right. A dog on wheels. We'll go to buy it when you're well again.”

But he had already drifted back into sleep. I let the orderly lead me out and I found my way down the stairs and out into the street.

 

Twelve

I wasn't sure what I'd find when I arrived back at Sid and Gus's house. Liam in hysterics with a soaked diaper? My mother-in-law looking indignant and uncomfortable? But complete quiet reigned as Sid opened the door to me.

“What news?” she asked.

“The doctors think he will live, thank God,” I said. “The bullet just missed his heart and lungs. It went right through his shoulder and out the other side. But he's awfully weak and they've given him morphine. So he's sleeping peacefully.”

“Well, that's good news,” Sid said.

“Where are the children?” I asked.

She glanced across the street. “Your mother-in-law arrived, quite put out that you weren't home until we told her the reason. She's taken Bridie and Liam back to your house to put him down for a nap and to cook your dinner. And Tig and Emmy have gone back to the witch. I told them they could stay longer, have an evening meal with us and then I'd walk them home, but they were afraid they would get into trouble if they didn't show up at the proper time. They were so pathetically grateful, Molly. They perched on the edge of the sofa as if they were afraid to damage it. Not like children at all. Even when I got out games for them, they didn't want to play.”

“They've had their childhood taken away from them,” I agreed. “They've lost all security and hope, haven't they?”

“And that awful woman. Honestly, Molly, I didn't want to let them go back to her, but they are terrified their mother will come looking for them and they won't be there.”

“Did they tell you anything more that might give us a clue as to where she went or why they are here?” I asked.

Sid shook her head. “Not really. But I did gather that the ship they came on was the SS
New York
. That's the American Line, isn't it? So we may be able to glean some information from the ship's manifest.”

“Good idea,” I said. “I can't thank you enough for helping out like this, and it was so kind of you to bring Tig and Emmy home with you.”

Sid glanced back down the hall. “Gus and I have been talking and we think we'd like to take them in.”

“You mean bring them to you every day?”

“No, I mean have them to live with us.”

“Oh, no, Sid,” I said. “I don't think that's wise at all.”

“Why? You don't think they are trustworthy? You think they are not what they seem and will murder us in our beds when we're not looking? Or steal the silver?” She sounded indignant now.

“We know nothing about them, Sid. They seem like adorable children and my instinct tells me that they are exactly who they claim to be. But taking them in is another matter. And Tig is right. What if their mother comes to collect them at the boardinghouse and they are not there? That old witch would not tell her where they had gone, just out of spite, I know it.” I could feel the blood rising in my cheeks as the frustrations and worries of the day all boiled over. “And what if their mother is never found? What then? Turn them out onto the streets again?”

“Of course not…” she started to say, but I went on, “So you'd take them on for the long term? Adopt them? But what would that do to your way of life? You couldn't just jump on a boat to Paris anymore, or go to Newport because it was too hot in the city. And you know nothing about raising children…”

Sid put a hand on my shoulder. “Molly, calm down. We're not thinking too far into the future. Just far enough so that they don't have to be out on these freezing streets. If the weather gets better and their mother still hasn't turned up, maybe you'll have found a family connection by then. If not … then we'll face that when it comes.”

I took a deep breath. “I think you're both kindhearted,” I said. “And I see nothing wrong with taking them in during the worst of the weather, as long as you let them go back to the boardinghouse at night.”

“But they sleep up in the attic there,” Sid said. “Emmy told me they are so cold and they lie on a straw pallet and it's scratchy. And there are mice and she's scared. We could make sure they are warm and well fed, Molly. And you can use your brilliant detective skills to find their mother.”

“In case you've forgotten, I've a seriously injured husband to look after as well as two children and a visiting mother-in-law,” I said. “I don't know how much time I'll have.”

“You'll find time. You always do,” Sid said. When I nodded she put a hand on my shoulder. “You do want to help those children, don't you? We can't just turn our backs on them, Molly. We have to do something for them.”

“I know,” I said. “I want to help them. Of course I do.”

“We'll help you find their mother,” Sid said. “You tell us what you want us to do and we'll do it.”

“You could start off by taking a look at the ship's manifest,” I said. “At least we'd know the mother's full name then, and maybe even an address we could contact.”

“I'll do that tomorrow,” Sid said. “Gus can collect the children and amuse them and I'll go hunting.”

“That's a good start,” I said. “And if only Daniel weren't lying at death's door he could tell me how to find a list of women who died in the city back in the spring. Maybe women who were found on the streets, or died in an accident. Of course if their mother had been very ill and was taken to hospital and died, then we'd have to go around all the hospitals, wouldn't we? But it can be done.”

“You think she's dead, do you?” Sid asked.

“I can't think of any other reason that a mother would not return to her children; would not at least write to them, to let them know she's all right and thinking about them.”

Sid nodded gravely. “Yes, I suppose you are right.”

“I have to go,” I said. “Daniel's mother will be wanting news of him.”

I turned away and crossed the street to my front door. Daniel's mother appeared from the kitchen, wearing an apron, her hands floury, but her eyes anxious.

“Molly—what news, my dear?” she asked.

“He's still alive. They think he'll make it just fine.” Then to my utter embarrassment I burst into tears. She came up and put her arms around me, patting my back awkwardly.

“My poor dear girl. Don't cry. It will be all right.”

“I hope so,” I sniffed between sobs.

She led me down the hallway and took off my coat and hat as if I was a child. “I've made us a cup of tea and some of those jam tarts that Liam likes so much,” she said as she sat me down at the kitchen table and went to pour me a cup of tea.

“There. Get that down you.” She put the cup down in front of me and pushed a plate of still-warm tarts across the table to me.

I drank, gratefully, the sweet hot liquid bringing warmth back to my body.

“Where's Liam?” I asked.

“I put him straight to bed,” she said. “He was overtired and overstimulated by the time I picked him up. Your friends don't realize that babies can't take too much excitement. I couldn't quieten him myself. It took Bridie lying down with him on her bed. She's certainly got a way with him, hasn't she? But he's asleep now and she's sitting in his room, keeping an eye on him.”

“Thank you,” I said. “I was so worried about leaving them that long, but I didn't want to leave Daniel either.”

“Of course you didn't. So tell me all about it. I only got the bare bones from your neighbors. Only that he'd been shot.”

“That's right,” I said. “From what I've been told he found out that a new officer had taken it upon himself to arrest one of the leaders of the Cosa Nostra—you know, that's the Italian gang who have been causing such trouble.”

“The ones who bombed your house?”

“That's them. And Daniel went after this man because he knew it was going to cause more harm than good. They must have walked into an ambush. The other policeman was killed. Daniel was lucky. The bullet went clear through his shoulder.”

“Praise the good Lord for that,” Mrs. Sullivan said.

“But he's lost a lot of blood. They've given him morphine and he's sleeping. I'll take you to see him tomorrow.”

“He's strong. He'll pull through, with the good Lord's help,” she said, more to convince herself than me, I suspect.

“Of course he will,” I agreed. We sat there, looking at each other.

“He'll be home and we'll have a grand Christmas,” she said firmly. She got up and went over to the shelf. “I've brought a Christmas pudding. And I've made mincemeat ready for pies. And some candied peel and sugar plums.” She stopped and looked up. “Oh, but I see you've made a pudding yourself.”

“I thought I'd give it a try,” I said. “I don't know how successful it will be. I'd never made one before. I'm sure yours will be much better.”

“Well, two puddings are always better than one,” she said, but I could tell she was trying to hide her annoyance. “By the way, who were those strange children at your neighbors' house?”

“They were two little beggar children we found on the street. Bridie felt sorry for them, and now we're going to try and find their mother.”

“It's not wise to take in street children.” Mrs. Sullivan shook her head. “You don't know anything about them.”

“Well, these ones came from England and they have obviously been raised well. Their manners and way of speech are beautiful. And you should hear the little girl sing.”

“So how did they get here? Do you think they were kidnapped?”

“It's a big mystery,” I said. “I was hoping that Daniel could help me locate their mother. According to them she brought them to America, then one day she went off and left them at an awful boardinghouse. And she never came back.”

“Dear me. What a tragedy.” She poured herself a cup of tea and brought it back to the table. “So many sad stories in a city like this, aren't there?”

“At least we can do a little to help these children,” I said. “Sid and Gus plan to take them in and feed them, and I'm going to try and look into why they came to America and whether they might have family here.”

“You're a good woman, Molly,” Mrs. Sullivan said. “But don't let your heart go ruling your head. You've your own child to care for, and who knows how much attention your husband will need as he recovers.”

“I know.” I stood up and managed a smile. “I'd better get on with our dinner,” I said. “I'd planned a lovely meal for us all. Daniel has been coming home at a good hour and I thought…” I pressed my lips together. “Never mind. He'll be home soon.”

 

Thirteen

I found it hard to sleep that night, alone in the big bed without Daniel's comforting body beside me. Every time I turned over and felt the cold space where he normally lay, the worry would surface again. The doctor said the gunshot had missed vital organs and he was going to be all right. But he'd lost a lot of blood. And what about gangrene? Wasn't that always a danger with wounds? And would he recover full health, able to return to work? What if he didn't? And then those worries mingled with thoughts of Tig and Emmy. How could I hope to trace their mother now, when I had so much on my plate and so many worries?

The night seemed to stretch on and on. On Monday morning I wanted to go to see Daniel, but I didn't think the hospital would let me flaunt visiting hours twice. So I busied myself with my normal routine, making breakfast, bathing Liam, getting a load of his diapers out on the line. It was a sparkling bright day so I bundled up the two children and let them play in the snow outside in the street. I found Sid and Gus just emerging from their front door.

“The children didn't come here like we told them to,” Sid said. “So Gus is going in search of them and I'm going to the shipping company's office.”

“I hope they are all right,” Gus said. “I'm just worried that they got into trouble with Aunt Hettie for coming to our house yesterday. I did warn them not to tell her, but you know how children are.”

“She might even have spies on the street who reported them,” I said, bending to pick up Liam, who had slithered onto his bottom and was lying on his back, looking helpless and surprised.