Arthur Baggins watched as the taxi drove away at nine that evening and cursed his luck. He was pretty sure that rich bitch in the back was the one from St Saviour’s. She was working there as a secretary and Arthur thought she must be good for a few bob. Already he was hungry and cold and he dared not seek out any of his usual haunts, because the bloody coppers were hunting for him everywhere – and he knew Butcher Lee had put the word out on him. He was on borrowed time here in London and he had to get out quick.
The police were making inquiries about him and Jack, and the only way they could have known Arthur was involved in the attempted robbery at the boot factory was if Billy had split on him. Jack would never tell even if he’d managed to get out the back way so it must have been Billy.
Arthur had had one thought in his mind: he was going to get even with that snitch of a brother of his and then clear off up North. However, he would need money for food and it was better to travel by train if he could raise the fare, because if he tried to hitch a lift people would get suspicious and his picture would probably be in the papers before long.
If the coppers got him, it would only be a matter of time before they discovered what had happened at the factory. It wasn’t his fault that Jack had hit that fool too hard, but he’d been there and that made him guilty in the eyes of the law. Neither of them had expected to find anyone inside the factory; how could they have known the night watchman allowed a down and out to sleep in the store room during the cold weather? He’d have lost his job if his employers found out, but the poor bugger he’d taken pity on had lost more than that. He’d been going to raise the alarm, but Jack had coshed him, too damned hard.
Arthur wasn’t squeamish, far from it. He couldn’t care less what had happened to that tramp, but he did value his own skin. He’d killed his own father because he was going to turn him in. The memory of the way that knife had slid into Pa’s back made Arthur smile. The old devil had given him a good few beatings when he was young, but he’d got even and that felt good. He’d cleared off for a while but there had been no extensive searches made for him, no hint of a murder charge in the papers, so he’d come back to the East End, but now he was getting out for good. If the cops once got wind that a man had been murdered, even if he was a down and out, they would hang the culprits. If Jack had bought it, which he must have unless he got out of a back window, it was Arthur that would carry the can and that meant he had to get out fast. He would work in the Docks up North for a while, and look for a ship that might take him on. Arthur had always thought he might like to go to America. There were rich pickings there from what he’d seen at the cinema, vice gangs and gambling casinos where a man could get rich if he didn’t mind what he did – and Arthur wasn’t fussy. He would commit murder for the right bribe and would have been content to work with one of the London mobs, but he’d upset a few of them when he was younger and knew he had no real future here. Robbing folk would never bring him the kind of money he was after. He wanted to be in with one of the big gangs of New York or Chicago and believed he would make his fortune there.
First he needed to get himself some money and then he would burn that little runt and his mates in their beds. Arthur had already found the way into the cellar beneath St Saviour’s and he knew that the caretaker kept paraffin in cans down there. Sprinkled liberally, it wouldn’t take long to get a good fire going.
That rich bitch had escaped him for now, but she would be back. He’d knock her senseless and snatch that fancy leather bag of hers; she was bound to have a few quid in there. Then he’d set his fire going – and that would be the end of bloody St Saviour’s and his brother and all. He just had to wait until everything went quiet. In the meantime, he’d see what he could find to eat in the kitchens at the kids’ home. It amused him to think of robbing them before he roasted the lot of ’em in their beds.
Mary Ellen couldn’t sleep. She kept tossing and turning in her bed, but something just wouldn’t let her go off, though she wasn’t thinking about anything in particular. It was just that Billy had told her about the police stepping up their hunt for Arthur, because they reckoned they’d got all the evidence they needed to arrest him for several burglaries, including the factory.
Supposing Arthur discovered that Billy had told on him? Billy hadn’t wanted to, but Mary Ellen had persuaded him and now she was anxious in case Arthur came here looking for Billy. If anything happened to him it would be her fault.
Unable to rest, she slipped out of bed and put her shoes and dress on, then tip-toed out of the dormitory. Walking along the landing to the window that looked out into the garden, Mary Ellen stared into the darkness. She couldn’t see much other than shadows, but she kept thinking Arthur might be out there plotting to harm them when they slept.
She was creeping downstairs when a whisper behind her nearly made her stumble. Swinging round, she looked at Marion.
‘What are you doing?’ she asked. Marion had one crutch and was using it to balance herself as she followed her down to the hall. ‘Be careful or you will fall.’
‘I saw you get up so I decided to follow,’ Marion said. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘I’ve just got a funny feeling,’ Mary Ellen said quietly. ‘I think Arthur might be here.’
‘What makes you think that?’
‘I don’t know. It’s silly but I can’t get it out of my head. I’m going to the kitchen to get a glass of water and have a look round.’
‘What will you do if you see him?’
‘Yell as loudly as I can.’ Mary Ellen grinned at her. ‘I expect I’m daft; he won’t be there, but I can’t sleep until I look. You should go back to bed, Marion.’
‘I’m not lettin’ you go alone.’
‘But if he knocked you down he could hurt you.’
‘I’ll yell as loudly as you: two are better than one.’
Mary Ellen nodded, turning the door handle into the kitchen. She switched the light on and saw Billy staring out of the back door.
‘Put that out,’ he hissed. ‘I’m sure Arfur’s about. I couldn’t sleep for worryin’. I’ve been thinkin’ ever since I spoke to that copper and I got up to look out of the window half an hour ago. I saw Arfur across the street. He was tryin’ to hide in the shadows but I saw him in the headlamps of a car.’
Mary Ellen’s heart caught with fright. She wasn’t pleased that her feeling had been proved right; she would rather be wrong, because if Arthur was here he was up to no good.
‘What are we goin’ to do?’ she asked as Marion switched the light off and the three children stood shivering in the darkness.
Billy shut the door and went into the kitchen. Here there was enough light from an outside light for them to see. ‘I’m going to hide round the corner of the dresser and wait,’ Billy said. ‘If I hear a noise in the cellar or if Arfur tries to get in I shall raise the alarm.’
Mary Ellen was just about to answer him when they heard a cracking sound in the scullery. Billy put a finger to his lips and motioned to them to get under the tables, which were covered with gingham oilcloths. They hurried to obey him, hiding together under the nearest one and holding their breath as they waited to see what would happen. The sound of breaking glass and then something falling over made them clutch each other. For a moment there was silence and then they heard a muffled curse as someone knocked into a chair; seconds later the light flicked on.
Mary Ellen cautiously lifted the edge of the oilcloth and they looked to see what was happening. She could only make out someone’s feet moving towards the pantry door and guessed it must be Arthur. Marion grabbed at her arm and Mary Ellen knew she was frightened; she too was feeling nervous and hardly dared to breathe.
They heard a loud curse as the intruder discovered the pantry door was locked, and then the sound of splintering wood. He was breaking the lock to steal their Christmas food. Mary Ellen was incensed at the wickedness of it and without truly thinking of what she was doing, she scrabbled out of her hiding place, followed shortly by Marion. Arthur was returning from the pantry, carrying a plate filled with mince pies and sausage rolls.
‘You rotten thief!’ Mary Ellen cried. ‘That’s our Christmas food and you’re not having it!’
Arthur had stuffed a sausage roll in his mouth and spat crumbs at her as he made a snarling noise and tried to speak. He pushed the plate onto the kitchen table and made a grab at her hair. She darted out of his way and stared at him defiantly as he spluttered and choked on the stolen food.
‘I hope it chokes you, you nasty man,’ she cried as he lunged at her again.
‘I’ll teach you to spy on me, you little brat,’ Arthur growled and flung himself at her. This time she wasn’t quite quick enough to escape and he took hold of her hair, tugging at it as he attempted to catch her round the waist. Mary Ellen yelled and Billy darted out; he was carrying a rolling pin, which he used to beat at the middle of his brother’s back. ‘I’ll kill the lot of you,’ the incensed Arthur roared. ‘I’ll knock you senseless and then I’ll set fire to the lot of …’
Mary Ellen had managed to wrench her hair out of his hold and she kicked his shin as Billy went in for another attack with the rolling pin and then Marion launched herself into the fray. Lifting her crutch high, she brought it down on the side of Arthur’s temple and the force of the blow sent him staggering. For a moment he leaned against a table, breathing hard and glaring at them. Marion was balancing on one leg and holding onto the back of a chair, her face white with the effort it had cost her. ‘What do we do now?’
‘I don’t know,’ Mary Ellen said. The children looked warily at one another as they waited for him to attack again. Then Arthur grunted furiously and shook his head to clear it.
‘I’ll kill the whole bloody lot of you,’ he muttered and made a grab at Billy, catching hold of his arm and twisting it round behind his back until he screamed in pain.
‘What are you doing?’ Angela entered the kitchen at that moment, taking in that something was going on but not understanding it. ‘Let go of that child at once. At once, do you hear me?’ She moved in on him menacingly, picking up the rolling pin that Billy had abandoned on the table.
Arthur gave a yell of outrage. ‘I’m glad you’re back, rich bitch. You can help me get what I want.’ He gave Billy a shove and he cannoned into Marion, both of them ending on the floor.
‘You wicked man,’ Angela said, looking just as angry as he was. ‘I shall not give you a penny and the only thing I’m going to help you with is a trip to prison.’
She brandished the rolling pin at him and Arthur moved in, lunging at her and grabbing her arm as they grappled for the weapon, which Angela was unable to use because he had her arm in a tight grip. She dropped it on the floor and Billy, back on his feet now, picked it up and began the attack on his brother’s back once more. Angela, left with only her wits for a weapon, went for Arthur’s eyes with her fingers, jabbing at him viciously. He screamed in pain and staggered back, tripping over Marion’s crutch and crashing against the table again. This time he hit his head and went down, lying still.
‘Is he dead?’ Marion asked in a scared breath.
‘It doesn’t matter about him,’ Angela said. ‘Are you all right – and Billy? Did he hurt you?’
‘I’ve had worse off him and me pa,’ Billy said. ‘I fell on Marion, though. Is her leg all right?’
Angela looked at her anxiously. ‘Did it hurt your leg again, Marion?’
‘No, miss. I think it’s all right. I’m just shaken,’ Marion said, but tears started in her eyes, because she’d been frightened. ‘He won’t hurt us again, will he?’
‘I’m going to send for the police,’ Angela began and then a voice spoke from the doorway, startling them all.
‘And what is going on in here, may I ask?’ The icy tones of Sister Beatrice struck terror into the three children. Sister was staring at the mince pies on the table and then the pantry door. ‘And who is responsible for this disgraceful act of theft?’ She looked accusingly at Billy.
‘It was him,’ Marion said and pointed to Arthur as he lay motionless on the floor. ‘We caught him breaking into the pantry and tried to stop him stealing the Christmas food.’
‘He was going to burn us all in our beds,’ Mary Ellen put in quickly. ‘We all fought him but Marion hit him with her crutch when he was hurting me, but he was only winded and he got hold of Billy and tried to break his arm and then Miss Angela arrived and fought him.’
‘I stuck my fingers in his eyes and he staggered back and tripped over Marion’s crutch and hit his head. He appears to have passed out, I’m not sure how badly hurt he is – but I hope severely,’ Angela said grimly. ‘He deserves no less after what he did to Billy.’
‘And Mary Ellen,’ Billy piped up. ‘He hurt her first because she stopped him stealing the Christmas food.’
‘Yes, indeed. I merely came in halfway through,’ Angela said. ‘These children were fighting bravely and by the sound of it they saved more than the Christmas food.’
‘Good grief, whatever next?’ Sister said. She held out her hand to Billy. ‘Give me the rolling pin, please.’ He did so and, grasping it firmly in one hand, she bent down on one knee.
Mary Ellen giggled nervously, because the sight of the stern sister bending over Billy’s brother to feel for a pulse with a rolling pin determinedly clasped in one hand was funny. She tried to contain her mirth as Sister struggled heavily to her feet and nodded.
‘Is that your brother, Billy?’
‘Yes, Sister. He’s a bad ’un – is he dead?’
‘No, just unconscious.’ She broke off as Nan entered the kitchen. ‘Ah, Nan,’ she said pleasantly. ‘Would you mind phoning the police station for us, please? Tell them we have Arthur Baggins here for them and ask them to collect him as soon as possible.’
Nan stared at her, then at the man lying on the floor. ‘Did you knock him out, Sister?’
‘No, but if he wakes before the police arrive, I shall endeavour to do so. It was these brave children who saved both the Christmas food – and St Saviour’s, if his intention was truly to burn us down.’
‘Good grief,’ Nan said, looking astonished. ‘Well done, children. I’ll telephone the police immediately.’
Sister Beatrice nodded and then looked at the children. ‘Perhaps you should go to bed now?’
‘Please, Sister,’ Billy said hesitantly. ‘We’d rather wait until the police get here in case he wakes up. It took three of us to tackle him and we were lucky he hit his head when he fell, because he’s vicious.’
‘Well, if you insist,’ she said and looked up as Alice walked into the kitchen. ‘Ah, you’ve come to make a cup of tea before you go home, Alice. Perhaps you would make one for all of us?’
Alice stared at her open-mouthed and Mary Ellen explained it all to her.
‘You give me that rolling pin, Sister,’ Alice said fiercely. ‘If he so much as lifts his head, I’ll send him back to sleep for the next year.’
‘Yes, well, perhaps it might be more appropriate if I make the tea,’ Sister said and Mary Ellen couldn’t believe it, because her eyes were laughing even though she managed to keep a straight face as Alice took up guard, her expression so grim that Marion started giggling. Mary Ellen pushed her in the back because she was fit to burst and didn’t know how to stop laughing out loud.
Nan came back and took in the scene, her mouth twitching as she saw Alice standing guard over her victim like an avenging warrior.
‘Constable Sallis says they’re sending a Black Maria and half a dozen police constables to fetch him.’ Suddenly, Nan laughed. ‘Do you know, I almost feel sorry for the poor man …’
The children all started to giggle, and Angela saw the funny side of it too, but Alice didn’t see anything to laugh about. She was obviously taking her duty seriously and even when Sister Beatrice gave them all a cup of tea each, she refused to leave her position. If Arthur was unfortunate enough to raise his head, he would soon feel very sorry for himself … very sorry indeed.
Fortunately, the police were swiftly on the scene and Arthur was carted off in the back of their van. He was just beginning to come round as they took him out and he started to swear and yell vengeance as the police locked him inside.
‘Off to bed with you now,’ Sister said, then, ‘You can each take a mince pie or a sausage roll for being so brave.’
‘No, thank you, Sister,’ Mary Ellen said. ‘We’ll wait until everyone has them, because it isn’t fair on the others. That’s why I wasn’t going to let him steal them.’
‘I see.’ Sister stared at her for a moment, a strange look in her eyes. ‘I think I may have misjudged you, child – and your friends. Very well, we shall put them back in the pantry until we all share them for tea.’
Billy looked at Mary Ellen as the three of them left the kitchen. ‘I was so hungry,’ he confessed, ‘but you did right, Mary Ellen. Marion, you ain’t hurt yourself, have you?’
‘No, I’m all right,’ she said and smiled, clearly proud of herself. ‘I thought I might fall but I had to stop him hurting Mary Ellen and my crutch is heavy. It frightened me when he fell over my crutch and I thought I’d killed him, though …’
‘That wasn’t your fault,’ Mary Ellen asserted. ‘The police should give you a medal, not tell you off.’
‘I’m glad they’ve got your brother in custody, Billy,’ Marion said. ‘I hope he stays in prison for a long, long time.’
‘So do I,’ Billy said. ‘I’d better get back to the dorm – you two all right together?’
‘Yes, we’re all right,’ Mary Ellen said. ‘See you in the morning …’
‘Well,’ Sister said when the children had left. ‘I suppose we ought to be thankful you arrived when you did. Those children were very brave but he might have overpowered them and then … it hardly bears thinking about. St Saviour’s might have been burned down and many lives lost.’
‘It was pure chance, because I’d just been to the police station with that list of Billy’s and I kept my taxi waiting. Had I walked back I might have been too late …’ Angela said with a little shudder. ‘If I did my bit I’m pleased, but in my opinion it was all down to those children. I’m very proud of them.’
‘Yes, indeed. I certainly misjudged them – especially Billy.’
‘Well, we all make mistakes,’ Angela said. ‘I certainly do.’
Sister sat down heavily, her face white as if it had suddenly hit her what might have happened. ‘How could it have been so easy for him to get in? Billy tells me there are several cans of paraffin in the cellar.’ Her hands were shaking. ‘To think the paraffin was there waiting …’
‘It would never be hard for a man like that to break in, but I think the caretaker should store his paraffin somewhere else. I suppose he keeps it and the oil lamps in case of electric cuts.’
Sister nodded. ‘I totally agree that he should keep it elsewhere, under better security. We’ll have something done to make it harder to get in, too. Secure locks on all the downstairs windows, I think, first thing in the morning.’
‘If Arthur is in custody, the danger is over. No one else has a grudge against us, why should they? Everyone speaks so highly of you and the work you do. Whenever I ask for money people give what they can – food or goods if they can’t spare money. Look at all the gifts we’ve had this Christmas. Most of the shopkeepers have given us something. I couldn’t believe how kind they were when I asked for funds. Arthur was a spiteful evil man, but the police will put him away for a long time.’
‘You may be right, but you can’t be too careful. I shall have more locks fitted just in case.’
‘I’m sure Arthur will not escape.’
‘Fire … it’s such a terrible way to die.’ Sister Beatrice’s hand was shaking, tears coursing down her cheeks as her words came out of their own volition. ‘I’ve always dreaded it since … such a terrible way to die in a fire …’
Angela thought she’d never seen Sister Beatrice so disturbed. For a moment she seemed as if she were on the verge of saying more, but she breathed deeply, seemed to take a hold on herself and shook her head, dashing the tears away.
‘Such a long time ago …’
Angela was certain something terrible had once happened to Sister Beatrice or someone she knew, but the woman obviously wasn’t prepared to confide in her and she would not push for her confidences.
‘Yes, I know fire is awful, Sister. But the danger is over, truly it is.’
‘How foolish of me.’ Sister Beatrice blew her nose, her head going up as the barriers came down. ‘But we shall take those extra precautions just in case. Well, I shall let you get to bed, Angela.’
‘Yes, but I’ll make a cup of tea first …’ Angela hesitated, then, ‘I am very sorry that I flouted your wishes that day, Sister. If you felt humiliated, I ask you to forgive me. I did not do it for that reason – but I could not bear to see Mary Ellen so miserable.’
Sister Beatrice hesitated in her turn, then, ‘Would you consider forgetting your intention to leave after Christmas?’
Angela smiled. ‘I already have,’ she said. ‘I think we shall do better together from now on – don’t you?’