Cathy Sharp - Christmas for the Halfpenny Orphans

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A gritty and compelling drama from the bestselling author of The Orphans of Halfpenny Street. Perfect for fans of Nadine Dorries and Sheila Jeffries.Little twin sisters, Sarah and Samantha are all alone in the world. When their mother died giving birth to Sarah, she was blamed for the death by her father and her learning difficulties serve only to make him more angry and violent towards her. Now he’s finally abandoned them both and they’ve found sanctuary at St Saviour’s Children’s Home in London’s East End. It seems they’re doomed to be separated; no one wants to take Sarah on, but life apart will break their hearts.Alice, a former worker at the home who is now a mother and happily married to Bob, finds her happiness under threat when a face from the past reappears. Jack Shaw, East End bad boy, has always been Alice’s weak spot but is she really about to throw everything away?Angela Morton has her hands full; she’s now in sole charge. But with Christmas approaching, and more than one orphan in desperate need, St Saviour’s is crying out for a miracle…

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‘Was that man annoying you, miss?’

‘Oh, it was a case of mistaken identity. He thought I was someone else.’

‘You don’t want anything to do with the likes of him. He’s a nasty piece of work, that Big Harry. Did he upset you?’

‘He gave me a bit of a shock,’ Michelle admitted, ‘but he didn’t hurt me. I think his intention was to give me a warning, but I told him he had the wrong person.’

‘His kind don’t care who they threaten,’ the constable said. ‘You be careful, walking alone at night, miss.’

‘It’s all right, I’m catching my tram now; it’s coming round the corner.’

‘Off you go then. And don’t worry – we’ll keep an eye on him. If he bothers you again, tell us and we’ll soon sort him out.’

Michelle smiled inwardly as she thought of the constable trying to sort out Big Harry, but she thanked him for coming to her assistance. Then, seeing her tram arriving, she excused herself and ran for her stop. It wasn’t until she sat down that she realised how shaken the experience had left her.

She wondered why Butcher Lee and his gang still thought Alice would know something about Jack Shaw – the East End bad boy that Alice had been soft on but who had left her high and dry. After all, she was married to someone else now, and Jack hadn’t been seen since the night he broke into the boot factory with Arthur Baggins, intending to rob the safe. Someone had set fire to the building while they were inside; Arthur had escaped, but Jack was presumed to have died. If by some chance he had escaped, he surely wouldn’t risk returning to London knowing the Lee gang were out to kill him.

Michelle was pretty sure Alice knew no more about Jack’s fate than she did, otherwise she would certainly have mentioned it. Still, if Lee thought otherwise she’d have to warn Alice to be on her guard.

The morning after Michelle’s visit, Alice returned from the market to find a letter waiting for her. The sight of it sent a tingle of apprehension down her spine: it was addressed to Miss Alice Cobb rather than Mrs Manning, and she was almost certain she knew the handwriting.

For a moment she considered putting it straight in the bin without opening it, but something wouldn’t let her. Though she knew she ought not to read it, she couldn’t resist slitting it open and taking out the contents.

I got a mate to deliver this, Alice love. He said he knew where you were living and I daren’t bring it myself. I can’t come to your home, but I want to see you. I should never have left you. I think of you and my kid all the time, and now I’ve got things sorted we can go to America. My ship leaves in three weeks and I want us to be on it together. Please meet me, Alice. It’s too dangerous for me to come to you, but if you take the train to Southend, I’ll meet you by the pier. Come next Saturday and I’ll be there every hour from twelve until nine at night. I’ve put in £2 for your fare, and the key to a locker at Euston Station. I need you to fetch a parcel for me, Alice love. No one will notice you and it’s important … do that for me, Alice, and you’ll never regret it, I promise.

I still love you, Alice. I’ve never stopped thinking about you, but I had to keep moving around. People were looking for me, and I couldn’t let you know where I was until now.

So he was alive! Alice sat down on the nearest chair, feeling sick and shaken. Her hands trembled as she was caught by a surge of disbelief mixed with elation. He was alive, despite what everyone had told her. She felt overwhelming excitement followed almost as swiftly by despair, for it was too late. Tears stung her eyes and trickled silently down her cheeks, as she realised that she still cared for him.

She’d never quite given up on Jack Shaw, even when everyone said he was dead, but now she felt as if the breath had been knocked out of her. Alice looked at the two one-pound notes Jack had sent, staring at them as if they would burn her. She held the small key with a numbered tab in her hand and frowned. What was it that Jack wanted her to fetch? It must be important to him or he wouldn’t have asked. As glad as she was to learn that he hadn’t died in the fire, she knew she couldn’t trust him. He’d probably put some of the stuff he’d stolen in that locker and Alice wanted nothing to do with his ill-gotten gains.

Had this letter arrived only a few months ago she’d have gone to Jack without a second thought, even though she knew he couldn’t be trusted. Part of her longed to go to him even now, in spite of the way he’d abandoned her and their daughter to fend for themselves, but she couldn’t. She was married to Bob now, and she wouldn’t hurt him, not after all he’d done for her. He was a good, decent man and she was fond of him.

But fond wasn’t the kind of all-consuming love she’d felt for Jack. A bitter sense of loss filled her and she knew that, despite everything, she still loved Jack; he was still there inside her head and her heart, even though he’d let her down. She’d tried to forget him but all it took was this letter to start up that aching need inside – but she couldn’t go to him, she couldn’t leave Bob.

She shoved the money and key in her apron pocket, feeling the tears sting her eyes and the angry hurt well up inside her as the shock started to wear off. If he came knocking on her door she would give him back his money and that key. It was the only thing to do – the decent thing.

Alice wouldn’t be on that train on Saturday. She was going to keep her promise to help out with the teas at Angela’s charity sale. She wouldn’t meet Jack in Southend, she wouldn’t see him ever again – but a part of her wanted to. A part of her wanted to take her child and run to the man she loved. Regret surged, and she wished that she’d never agreed to marry. If only she’d turned down Bob’s proposal and stayed with Nan, then she would be free – but for what? What sort of a life was Jack offering her?

Hearing her baby cry, Alice went into the kitchen and picked her up, looking down at her with love. Her heart felt as if it were being torn in two as she held Susie to her breast and rocked her. She was Jack’s child, but did he have the right to know her after the way he’d deserted them?

Besides, it was too dangerous. The Lee gang were still watching her; every so often someone would follow her when she went out with the baby, and only this morning she’d noticed a man staring at her in the market. Thus far, no one had approached her and she’d hoped that after a while they would realise it was a waste of time and give up.

No, it was stupid even to think of Jack. If he’d truly wanted her, loved her, he would have kept his promise to send for her a long time ago. In fact, the more she thought about it, the more she suspected that the only reason he’d got in touch was because he needed her to fetch whatever was in that locker.

Bitterness swept through her as she remembered the way Jack had broken his promises in the past. He was no good, just as her father had warned at the start.

EIGHT

‘That seemed to go well,’ Wendy said, surveying the empty stalls after the sale of second-hand clothes and bits and pieces had finished. ‘I don’t know how you manage to find so many nice things to sell, Angela. I bought a good leather bag for myself.’

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