The Throwaway Children (42 page)

‘I see. Well, I’m afraid if you can’t give me some idea of your business, I’ll simply have to make you an appointment for some time next week.’

‘Next week! Next week ain’t no good,’ retorted Lily. ‘It’s important. I got to see her today.’

‘So you say,’ replied Miss Drake, smoothly, ‘but unless you give the reason for such urgency, I’m afraid she can’t see you.’

‘Can’t or won’t,’ snapped Lily.

‘Mrs Sharples,’ Miss Drake’s tone was one of extreme patience, ‘Miss Vanstone is a busy lady. She can’t simply drop everything when someone walks in off the street and demands to see her. I’m sure you understand that.’

At that moment the front doors swung open and two young men came in. One approached the reception desk, and spoke quietly to the receptionist, while the other, who carried a large black bag, paused just inside the door, looking round.

‘What I understand,’ said Lily, the anger which had been boiling up inside her finally exploding, ‘is that EVER-Care has stolen my granddaughters. Your Miss Vanstone lied to me, lied to me to my face. And I want to see her, now. I want her to tell me where they are, ’cos they certainly ain’t where she told me they was.’

Miss Drake gave an anxious glance at the two men standing in the hallway. One was still talking to the receptionist, but the other was unashamedly listening to Lily.

‘Excuse me, Miss Drake,’ the receptionist called across. ‘Sorry to interrupt, but I thought you’d want to know that the two gentlemen from the
Chronicle
are here.’

‘Thank you, Miss Pullman,’ replied Miss Drake. ‘I’ll come back down as soon as I’ve taken Mrs Sharples upstairs.’ She turned to the waiting men and said, with a tight smile, ‘If you’d like to take a seat, gentlemen, I’ll be down again in just one moment. Please come this way, Mrs Sharples.’

Without looking to see if Lily was behind her, she started back up the stairs. Lily followed, taking the stairs slowly. She had no idea what accounted for Miss Drake’s change of heart, but she didn’t care, she was being taken up to see Miss Vanstone.

Miss Drake led her into an office on the first floor, a strictly utilitarian room, with metal filing cabinets along one wall and two more chairs along another. Across the office a second door led to a room beyond.

Miss Drake waved Lily to one of the chairs and then knocked on the second door and went through. As she waited, Lily looked round, but there was little to tell her what Vanstone Enterprises was all about. This was a secretary’s office, functional and sparse.

Several moments passed and then the door opened and Miss Drake emerged. ‘Miss Vanstone will see you now,’ she said. ‘She can give you five minutes.’

Lily got to her feet and passing the secretary at the door without so much as a glance, went through into Miss Vanstone’s office.

This was quite a different room. Maroon carpet covered the floor, thick and soft under Lily’s feet. The three windows which looked out onto the street below were hung with rich, red, velvet curtains. There was a sofa and two easy chairs set before a fireplace, where smouldering logs gave off a comforting warmth. The room was dominated, however, by a huge mahogany desk, set facing the door. In front of it was an upright wooden chair, and behind it sat Miss Vanstone.

She did not look up as Lily came into the room. Lily paused inside the door for a moment and then strode across the expanse of carpet and placing her hands on its polished surface, leaned across the desk.

‘Where’s my granddaughters?’ she demanded. ‘Where’s Rita and Rosie?’

Miss Vanstone lifted her head as if surprised to see her. ‘Mrs Sharples?’ she said, an eyebrow raised. ‘I believe we’ve met before.’

‘You know darn well we have,’ retorted Lily. ‘And you know why I’m here now. You’ve sent my granddaughters to Australia. Sent two little girls as what have a loving family here to look after them, thousands of miles away without even telling anyone.’

‘I have nothing to tell you,’ replied Miss Vanstone, evenly. ‘As I told you before it’s a question of confidentiality, to protect the children left in our care.’

‘Protect ’em!’ Lily almost shrieked. ‘Is sending them to the other side of the world, on their own, little kids like that, protecting them?’

‘These children are my responsibility. Where they live and who looks after them is entirely up to me. I do not have to explain myself to you, or anyone else.’ She removed her glasses and stared at Lily, her expression hard and uncompromising.

‘You don’t have to tell me nothing,’ snapped Lily. ‘I know where they are, ’cos Rita wrote to me, see. They’re in New South Wales, and that’s in Australia.’

‘Then you know all there is to know,’ replied Miss Vanstone, calmly.

‘No, I don’t,’ asserted Lily. ‘You can give me their proper address for a start.’

‘If your granddaughter has indeed written to you, you have the address already.’

‘What d’you mean “if”? Course she’s written to me, otherwise I would still think she was adopted by some people “up north”, wouldn’t I?’

Lily reached into her handbag and pulled out Rita’s already dog-eared letter, and thrust it at Miss Vanstone, but jerking it away before she could touch it.

‘Oh no you don’t,’ she said. ‘You ain’t getting your hands on this. This is my evidence that you’re a liar. I don’t trust you as far as I can throw you.’

‘That’s your problem, Mrs Sharples, not mine.’ Miss Vanstone shrugged and looked away as if the letter was of no interest to her.

‘So, I need the proper address,’ repeated Lily, ‘and you’re going to give it me.’

‘No, Mrs Sharples, I am not.’ Miss Vanstone didn’t raise her voice, but it was clear that she was not going to change her mind.

‘But you must.’ Lily knew that she was pleading now, but there was nothing else that she could do. ‘How can I write back to her if I don’t have the proper address?’

‘I see your difficulty,’ replied Miss Vanstone, ‘but I’m afraid I can’t help you.’

‘But she’ll think I don’t care.’ Lily was desperate now. ‘She’ll think I didn’t bother to answer.’

‘As I told you before,’ said Miss Vanstone, ‘a clean break is the best way. Wherever your granddaughters are, they have embarked on a new and exciting life. It will be far better for them to forget their earlier life and make a fresh start, don’t you think?’

‘No, I bleedin’ don’t.’ Lily seldom swore and it was a sign of her distress and desperation that she did so now. She saw Miss Vanstone frown at the obscenity and knew she’d done her cause no good. Miss Vanstone would never have used such a word, and Lily having done so marked herself out as being far beneath her, not fit to have the care of children.

‘I’m afraid I must ask you to leave now.’ Miss Vanstone rang the little silver bell that stood on the desk top and Miss Drake appeared at the door.

‘Mrs Sharples is leaving now, Miss Drake,’ stated Miss Vanstone and picking up the papers on her desk, she began to read.

Lily got to her feet and stood, irresolute.

‘This way, please,’ said Miss Drake, and when Lily still didn’t move she took hold of her arm.

Lily shook off her hand angrily. ‘Don’t you touch me!’ she growled. ‘Don’t you lay a hand on me!’

‘This way, please, Mrs Sharples,’ repeated Miss Drake. ‘Miss Vanstone has another appointment.’

Slowly Lily turned and leaning heavily on her cane, walked to the door. As she reached it she turned back to face the woman sitting behind the desk. ‘You ain’t heard the last of me,’ she warned, ‘you ain’t heard the last of me, not by a long chalk.’

Miss Vanstone ignored her but, addressing her secretary, she said, ‘When you’ve seen Mrs Sharples off the premises, please ask the gentlemen to step upstairs.’

Unable to provoke any further reaction, Lily straightened her back and with her head held high left the room.

‘I’ll see you to the front door,’ said Miss Drake, leading the way to the stairs.

‘There’s no need,’ replied Lily stiffly. ‘I can find my own way out.’

‘Nevertheless, I will see you to the front door.’

Miss Drake followed her down to the hall where the two men were still there waiting. They watched as Lily was shown out of the front door, and as it closed behind her, Lily heard Miss Drake say, ‘Miss Vanstone will see you now, gentlemen, if you’d care to follow me.’

Upstairs, Emily Vanstone set aside her papers. That Sharples woman is a real nuisance, she thought, coming here causing a fuss. Let’s hope that’s the last of her. After all, what more can she do?

In a way, Emily found herself admiring Lily’s determination and tenacity, recognizing traits that ran as strongly in herself. Despite Mrs Hawkins’s warning, Emily had been surprised that the woman had turned up, unannounced, at the office. She had assumed that Lily would ring for another appointment, and had already briefed her staff to refuse her. But by turning up and making a scene in front of reporters from the
Belcaster Chronicle
, Miss Drake had had no choice but to bring her upstairs, before the newspaper men latched on to what she was saying.

‘She was accusing you of stealing her granddaughters and of lying to her,’ Miss Drake had explained. ‘I thought it was better to get her out of sight and earshot as quickly as possible.’

‘You did quite right, Miss Drake,’ Emily had replied. ‘Send her in to me, I’ll deal with her.’

That Lily had a letter from Rita, posted from Australia, Emily found worrying. She’d been relieved to see, when Lily held out the letter, that a great deal of what the child had written had been blacked out. At least Daphne had had the wit to do that, but why allow her to write at all?

Emily felt no remorse or guilt at having separated the children from their family. She had rescued them from a feckless mother and an abusive stepfather; she had done God’s work. Remorse and guilt never came into her mind.

But what will the grandmother do next? wondered Emily. What would I do next, if it were my grandchildren? Then she thought of May Hopkins. I’d go and see the Children’s Officer. Emily allowed herself a tight smile. Well, you’ll get no luck there, Mrs Sharples. May Hopkins doesn’t know where they are.

However, the troublesome woman might make difficulties with the Children’s Committee. Emily reached for the phone, but before she could ask the operator for the number, there was a knock on the door.

‘Excuse me, Miss Vanstone, the gentlemen from the
Chronicle
are here.’

Emily Vanstone replaced the receiver. Mrs Sharples and Miss Hopkins could wait, the men from the newspaper couldn’t. ‘Please show them in,’ she said, and rising from her seat, came round her desk to greet them.

Terry Knight was one of the senior reporters on the
Belcaster Chronicle
. Tall and slim, he had an intelligent face with deep-set blue eyes. His fair hair was well cut, his face freshly shaved. Snappily dressed in dark suit and white shirt, he was out to make an impression. He was writing a feature article on the rise of women in business since the war. Emily Vanstone was one of the obvious candidates for interview. She had been running her own business empire since the thirties, and he wanted to discuss the changes, particularly in the role of women, that she’d seen over the years.

The interview went well, and as it drew to a close, she posed at her desk for Mike Holden to take his pictures.

‘I understand that you are very much involved in charity work as well,’ Terry Knight said as he put his notepad away.

‘I do what I can,’ said Emily modestly. ‘If one is in a position to do good, it behoves one to do so. I’m sure you’ll agree.’

‘Of course,’ smiled Terry. ‘Wasn’t the EVER-Care Orphanage founded by you?’

‘Yes,’ agreed Emily, ‘that is one of my projects.’

‘What good work you must do there,’ remarked Terry, ‘helping children who’ve been orphaned by the war; your home giving them a new start.’

Statement, not question. Emily liked that and smiling, she nodded. ‘Certainly. We give them a home, and when they leave us, we help them find their place in the world.’

‘And I expect some children are left with you for just a short while,’ suggested Terry. ‘That must be very helpful in time of family crisis.’

Emily gave him a wary smile. ‘Not often,’ she replied. ‘We become the legal guardians to the children who come to us, as we have to assume complete responsibility for their welfare.’

‘Oh, I see. I assume they stay in touch with their extended families, though. You know, aunts, uncles, grandparents?’ He spoke casually, with no notebook in his hand, but hearing this question, Emily knew at once what he was after. He’d heard the Sharples woman sounding off downstairs about her granddaughters and he was fishing, fishing for a story.

She decided to confront him, head-on. ‘I expect you overheard the lady downstairs who’s looking for her granddaughters. That poor woman, she’s a case in point. She’s heard that her estranged daughter has placed her daughters in our care, and she’s been trying to find out where they are. I wish I could help, she’s so distressed, but I could tell her nothing. It would break professional confidentiality. We never reveal details of the children placed in our care.’

‘So you do know where her granddaughters are,’ said Terry.

Emily gave him a practised smile. ‘As I said, Mr Knight, I’m afraid I can tell you no more than I could tell her. We never discuss our children.’

‘Not even to say whether they
are
your children?’

‘I’m so sorry, Mr Knight,’ Emily said sweetly and got to her feet. ‘If you’ve finished, I’m afraid that must be all for today.’

‘And the lady downstairs,’ persisted Terry. ‘What was her name again?’

‘I’m sorry, Mr Knight, I’m afraid I can’t discuss the subject with you any further.’ She rang the bell on her desk. ‘Miss Drake will show you out, gentlemen. I’ll be so interested to read your article in due course.’ She extended her hand and both the reporters shook it before following Miss Drake out of the room.

When the door had closed behind them she sighed. How infuriating that they’d picked up on Lily Sharples so quickly. Still, she thought, at least they don’t know who she is, so they won’t be able to write anything except in a very general way. Still, she’d better warn Miss Hopkins.