Chapter 16

Hearken, oh hearken! ye shall hearken surely 

 

Margaret winced slightly as Lady Brant edged closer, a gleaming grey syringe poised at the ready. It was silly, really. Margaret was not squeamish in the slightest and yet the sight of that needle drew the blood down to her toes. The young girl in Margaret’s lap, no more than two years of age, squirmed as well and nearly slipped away had Lady Brant not held her to Margaret.

“Goodness, Margaret, you must hold the child,” Lady Brant admonished as she kept a firm grasp of the child’s arm.

“Yes, Lady Brant, my apologies.” Margaret held the girl in place, unsure if her grip was too tight, but leery of another reprimand.

Lady Brant said nothing as she slipped the needle into the child’s arm, focusing instead on the process of vaccination. Not a mother herself, Lady Brant had not the time nor the patience for children, a reality Margaret was reminded of again and again throughout that morning at the orphanage. Lady Brant was a woman of anatomy and medicine, lending her expertise to the administration of mandatory vaccines. She had invited Margaret along to stand in as mother, holding the children still and wiping runaway tears. The young girl was their first patient and Margaret could already tell it was going to be a long day.

Clutching the site where the needle pierced her skin, the girl slipped from her perch on Margaret and fled, sniffling back tears as she went.

“Make sure you mark their paperwork,” Lady Brant called as she refilled her syringe with another dose of smallpox vaccine. “Don’t want the government accusing us of not doing our due diligence.”

Margaret nodded and shifted her focus to the form beside her. “I thought the House was still debating whether the vaccine should be mandatory?” Margaret asked.

Lady Brant chuckled slightly and then looked over her half-moon spectacles at Margaret. “And why should the Lords doubt what they have already made law?” Margaret saw her mother’s friend shake her head in disagreement. “There is no better way to ensure healthy poorer classes than through mandatory vaccines. All this debate about vaccinations being harmful is hogwash. It’s saved many lives, Margaret dear, and the only ones wondering at its necessity are the ones who don’t know the first thing about science.” Lady Brant turned, the needle poised and ready. “Now, next child.”

Little one after little one, Margaret held them steady and forced herself to watch as Lady Brant pinched some skin on the upper arm before inserting the needle. After a time, Mrs. Holliwell approached, patting their most recent patient on the shoulder as they passed each other.

“This is not their favourite day,” she remarked as she looked over the sullen faces of the children who had already been treated and those who waited with apprehension. “I have prepared a special custard for them as a reward.”

Margaret smiled at this but her pleasure vanished when she saw the look of disapproval on Lady Brant’s face.

“Mrs. Holliwell, these children have no need of sweets any more than I have need of my womb.” Lady Brant clicked her tongue as she shook her head. Her face was stern and cold.

“I think it’s a wonderful idea,” Margaret said, seeing the joy slip from Mrs. Holliwell’s face. It was hardly Lady Brant’s place to be advising the administration of the orphanage, and despite many meddling comments made to Margaret in the past, she could not see how Lady Brant had any vested interest in what the children were served for lunch. “Something to look forward to after a morning of discomfort.” Margaret smiled toward the children who still waited in line.

Lady Brant shook her head, obviously disagreeing, but she said nothing.

Disheartened, Margaret turned away. There could be no pleasing this woman and she had noticed Lady Brant’s admonishments were becoming more and more demeaning since Margaret’s mother died. Margaret could not remember a time when Lady Brant had ever been overly kind, but she hadn’t been quite so harsh either.

Margaret’s eyes scanned the room, secretly hoping there where not so many children yet to be treated, but instead her gaze found Ainsley slipping into the dining hall, followed closely by Inspector Simms.

“Peter?” Margaret stood.

“Margaret!” Lady Brant must have looked over as well, suddenly seeing the somber pair at the doorway, because no other words followed.

They watched as Ainsley and Inspector Simms weaved through the line of children, stopping at Mrs. Holliwell.

“Have you come to see Margaret?” Mrs. Holliwell asked, “She is doing remarkably well...” Suddenly her voice trailed off as her gaze found Inspector Simms. A wave of recognition came over her features and Margaret saw her hands begin to shake.

“Not in front of the children,” she said quietly.

Simms looked around them and nodded. “Is there another room?”

Inhaling forcibly, Mrs. Holliwell nodded and turned, ushering the two men away. Margaret followed, without care to Lady Brant and the task they had come to perform. Margaret knew of the last child found dead, the adolescent boy Ainsley had said resided at the orphanage. She hoped their visit brought news of the culprit’s apprehension.

Mrs. Holliwell led the group through the kitchen to a small office on the other side. She held the door as the three filed in and then closed it. Margaret watched as Mrs. Holliwell lifted a trembling hand to her mouth, as if to steady a quivering chin.

“Mrs. Holliwell,” Simms began. He glanced to the floor, as if searching for the words.

Ainsley licked his lips. “There’s been another,” he said gently. “Maryanne Bl—” But before Ainsley could finish Mrs. Holliwell let out a deep throaty growl and stumbled to the chair behind her. One hand went to her mouth, the other grasped feebly to Margaret’s skirt. Margaret sank beside her, eager to hold the sobbing woman in her arms.

“Peter, this cannot be,” Margaret pleaded in disbelief.

Ainsley’s gaze went from Mrs. Holliwell to Margaret but no words came. An uneasy quiet came over the room. The only sounds were that of Mrs. Holliwell’s gasps for air.

After a time, Ainsley knelt before them, holding Mrs. Holliwell’s hand before the woman calmed down enough to speak.

“How?” she asked. “Where?”

Ainsley glanced to Simms and then turned back to Mrs. Holliwell, pulling a clean handkerchief from his inside pocket. “They haven’t determined how,” he explained. “They found her in the dockyards.”

“Mrs. Holliwell, how is it you did not notice a child in your charge was missing?” Simms pressed, appearing less sympathetic than Ainsley or Margaret.

“How can he ask that?” Margaret asked Ainsley incredulously. “He hasn’t the right—”

Ainsley put a hand out in front of him, bidding Margaret to calm down.

A sniffle escaped Mrs. Holliwell. “Maryanne was visiting her father. He had been at sea for nearly a year.” Mrs. Holliwell turned to Margaret, perhaps searching for a friendlier face. “He gave us money to help with her upkeep. If she was not housed here she’d have nowhere else to go. Two days ago we received word that his ship was expected to dock yesterday.” Mrs. Holliwell turned back to the detective. “She begged me to let her go surprise him as he disembarked. I hadn’t the heart to say no. I did not think her missing as much as I thought she was with her father.” Her last few words gave way to sobs and finally she sank into Margaret’s accepting arms.

The room became uncomfortable as the woman grieved, her tears marking the death of two children in her care. Simms shifted and Ainsley stood. When Mrs. Holliwell finally looked up to Margaret she spoke in near desperation. “The children are not safe in my care,” she wailed. “I cannot keep them safe!”

“No, no, don’t say that. That’s not true.” Margaret tried her best to soothe Mrs. Holliwell and after a time her loud sobs became slight whimpers.

“Perhaps we should come back another time,” Simms suggested. “Once you have had a chance to get over the shock.”

Mrs. Holliwell said nothing but Margaret nodded. Before Simms and Ainsley could take their leave, Elliot Holliwell pushed through the door. “What is it?” he commanded. “What have you told her?”

“Maryanne,” Margaret said, peering over Mrs. Holliwell’s shoulder. “They have found Maryanne.”

Elliot raked his hand through his hair and clutched the doorknob behind him as a brace.

“She was like my own child!” Mrs. Holliwell yelled in Margaret’s shoulder.

“Mother,” Elliot demanded, “this is why you cannot work here. Look what it’s done to you.”

Mrs. Holliwell looked away, as if trying to avoid the subject.

“We have had reporters coming to the door asking questions for days,” Elliot said to Ainsley as if looking for an ally to agree with him.

“Who asks questions?” Ainsley asked.

Elliot shrugged. “I don’t know his name.”

Ainsley and Simms exchanged glances.

“But Elliot, the children,” Mrs. Holliwell sobbed.

“Let the Society hire someone else,” Elliot said, as he began to pace the room. “Look what this work has done to you. Remember what it has done to us!”

Mrs. Holliwell’s cries continued, and Margaret tried in vain to give some support.

Simms nodded toward Ainsley and they turned to Elliot. “We shall return at a later time with further questions,” Simms explained at the door. He glanced to Mrs. Holliwell before placing his hat back on his head and leaving.

Margaret’s eyes drifted from Elliot, who displayed grief through anger, to the floor, all the while rocking Mrs. Holliwell ever so slightly. After a time, Mrs. Holliwell quieted and pulled herself from Margaret’s arms.

“My apologies, Lady Margaret,” Mrs. Holliwell said, sniffling into the handkerchief Ainsley had given her. “The tragedies have been great as of late.”

Margaret watched as Mrs. Holliwell gathered herself and stood, pressing out the creases in her apron and skirt. Margaret stood as well, and watched to ensure Mrs. Holliwell would not collapse again. Mrs. Holliwell turned to her son, who leaned back into the desk with his arms folded over his chest. “Elliot, I understand why you ask but you know and I know it is something I cannot do.”

Elliot shook his head, a look of disgust on his features.

“Please excuse me, Lady Margaret,” Mrs. Holliwell said, grasping at a few last ounces of dignity she still possessed. “I must freshen up before I come before the children. You and Lady Brant must carry on. I will inform the children later.”

Margaret nodded but said nothing. She watched as Mrs. Holliwell left the room with Elliot close at her heels.