A Time of Peace Page 4

  The man looked up. ‘Been sacked, mate.’

  ‘What for?’ he demanded.

  ‘Don’t ask me. Happened before I came.’ One fag was stubbed out and another one lit.

  ‘And what’s your job here?’ He was having the utmost difficulty holding his temper in check.

  ‘I’m Gus, the odd-job man.’

  ‘Well, from what I’ve seen of this place there’s plenty to keep you busy, so why don’t you get off your bloody backside and do some work!’

  That certainly got a reaction. Gus stumbled to his feet. ‘Who do you think you are, coming in here and giving me orders?’

  Jon stepped up to the belligerent man, his temper at breaking point, and at six foot two he towered over the disgusting odd-job man. He’d struggled for years to see these poor kids had a better life than he’d had, and as soon as his back was turned, this happened! ‘It’s my bloody money keeping this place going. Now who’s in charge?’

  Gus moved back when faced with Jon’s fury. ‘New bloke’s been brought in. He’s in the office at the end of the hall.’

  He strode up to the door and threw it open, then stopped in disbelief when he saw who was there. ‘What the hell are you doing here?’

  The elderly man frowned at him, and then gave a harsh laugh. ‘Well, well, Devlin.’

  ‘I asked what you’re doing here?’ he repeated.

  ‘I’m running the place again, and you can leave or I’ll have you thrown out. You always were a nasty kid, and I don’t expect you’ve changed much.’

  A feeling of icy calm swept through Jon, the way it always did when he was faced with a dangerous situation. His mind cleared, and he knew he had to get this man out of here. ‘You’re a bit old to be taking on this job again, aren’t you?’

  ‘I’m quite capable of handling twelve brats.’

  ‘Not for much longer,’ he told him in a quiet voice, keeping his fury under control by a thread. This was the very man he’d just been thinking about. ‘And you won’t be getting any more money from me, Dawson.’

  ‘Yes, I will,’ he sneered. ‘This is the only pathetic family you’ve got, and you won’t desert them.’

  ‘You’re right about that, but I’ll help the boys by having you chucked out of here.’ He turned and strode out of the room, through the corridor and out of the building, his long legs taking him with great speed towards the bus stop. Within half an hour he was banging on a door in Primrose Street, Stepney. This was where the housekeeper’s sister lived, and he was banking on Mrs Green being there.

  ‘Oh, Mr Devlin,’ she cried when she saw him, ‘I’m so relieved to see you. Have you been to the home?’

  ‘Yes, I have, Mrs Green.’

  ‘Please come in.’ She showed him into a comfortable front room and settled her ample body in an armchair.

  He sat opposite her. ‘Tell me what happened.’

  ‘Mr Jenks took ill and left about two weeks after you’d gone away. The council gave the job to Mr Dawson because they couldn’t find anyone else at short notice. As soon as he arrived, he sacked all the staff.’ Mrs Green dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief, then screwed it into a tight ball. ‘We was just starting to make a nice home for the boys with your help, Mr Devlin.’

  It tore at Jon’s heart to see this kindly woman so upset. She was a widow in her forties and childless. She’d taken the boys to her heart, and in the two years she’d been in the job conditions had improved a great deal. Now all that hard work had been swept aside.

  She began to cry. ‘Those poor little mites, they don’t understand why this has happened. They’re so miserable.’

  ‘What happened to the money I gave you before I left for the Congo?’

  ‘I put it in the cash box as usual and that horrible man took it. I told him it was your gift and it was to buy the children extra food and fruit. He laughed, put it in his pocket and told me I wasn’t needed any more.’ She looked at him with red-rimmed eyes. ‘We can’t leave the boys at the mercy of that terrible man. What can we do?’

  ‘I don’t know yet.’ He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to think. Could he get Dawson for stealing? No, that idea was instantly dismissed. The man would say he’d used the money for the boys, and no one could prove otherwise.

  ‘I’ve tried complaining to the council, but they won’t listen to me.’ Mrs Green mopped up her tears.

  ‘I’ll see what I can do.’ He stood up. ‘Are you all right for money, Mrs Green?’

  She nodded. ‘My sister says I can stay here as long as I like, and I’ve got a bit put by.’

  He left and walked along the street, deep in thought. He’d visit the Wandsworth Borough council offices first.

  After two days of complaining and arguing, Jon was in despair. No one would listen to him. They thought he was trying to get revenge on the man he’d had trouble with in his youth. The two solicitors he’d consulted hadn’t held out any hope of success, and quite honestly he didn’t know what else to do. He found a seat by the Thames and stared at the water, willing his mind to stop racing; water always had a soothing effect on him. There had to be a solution to the problem. Dawson was unfit to be in charge of children: he was brutal, unfeeling and much too handy with a strap. He could almost feel the force of it across his backside as he remembered.

  He must have drifted off to sleep, because it was an hour later when he opened his eyes to find his mind had suddenly cleared and he knew what he must do. He’d have to try to find the woman he’d met at Standish House, Mrs Freeman. She obviously cared for the children and might be able to help.

  Jon stood in front of a lovely house in Roehampton and hesitated. What right did he have to bring his troubles to the woman he’d met briefly three days ago? He nearly turned away, but, if he did, where else could he go? Concern for the boys drove him up to the front door. He knocked and waited, listening to footsteps coming towards him.

  When the door swung open, Jon found himself looking into dark eyes alive with intelligence. The breath caught in his throat as he gazed at her. The impact of her presence was even stronger at the second meeting. She was wearing a plain navy and white frock and had aged with grace.

  She didn’t say anything, but he knew he was under intense scrutiny.

  ‘Mrs Freeman, my name’s Jon Devlin. We met at Standish House a couple of days ago. I need your help,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry to bother you, but I have a problem and don’t know what else to do.’

  After a brief hesitation, she stepped aside. ‘You’d better come in.’

  She led him into a large kitchen. ‘Sit down, young man. We’ll have a cup of tea while you talk.’

  And for the next hour that’s what he did, pouring out details of his appalling childhood in a large orphanage and then in Wilkins House, and his worry for the young boys now there. He was staggered at how easy it was to tell her things he’d never mentioned to anyone else: the beatings, dirt, hunger and humiliation. Dawson had a large repertoire of ways to subdue children. Not him, though. It had made him grow up stubborn and determined, but that kind of treatment could damage a sensitive boy for life. As he talked, he knew, without a shadow, of a doubt, that she understood his worry about the boys he considered as family.

  ‘Can you get some photographs of the place?’ she asked, when he finally ground to a halt.

  ‘No,’ he shook his head. ‘I tried that yesterday, but Dawson’s put an ex-boxer on the door and he wouldn’t let me in. I was tempted to use force, but I didn’t think it would help my case if I got into a fight with him.’

  ‘Describe Dawson to me.’

  ‘Average height, florid complexion, must be about seventy by now …’

  Rose stood up suddenly and called out of the kitchen door. ‘Bill, I’m going out for a few hours.’ Then she turned back to Jon. ‘Come on. Show me this place.’

  They went in her car and were soon at the house in Wandsworth. After getting out of the car, Rose Freeman swept up to the front door, only to be confronted by the d
oorman.

  ‘Out of my way,’ she ordered.

  Jon was right behind her, and he was sure he saw the man flinch at the authority in her voice.

  ‘You can’t come in here.’ The man pointed to Jon. ‘And he certainly isn’t welcome.’

  ‘Mr Devlin is with me.’ Rose stood hands on hips and fixed her dark gaze on the man. ‘Now, are you going to move your body, or do I have to do it for you?’

  Jon watched in wonder, in no doubt that she would carry out her threat. Even though she must be in her late fifties, he guessed, she was tall, still strong and very determined.

  She brushed past the doorman, who had lost the urge to fight with this fierce woman, and, as she stepped inside, she turned her head. ‘Come on, Jon, let’s sort this bloody mess out!’

  Dawson had come out of his office to see what the commotion was. Rose stormed up to him, and began talking to Dawson as if she knew him. And perhaps she did, for the man was clearly agitated; but Jon didn’t ask any questions, he was more than happy to follow her around and watch her in action.

  The next three hours were like a dream to him. After she’d inspected the home, there was a visit to the local council offices. Even though she had given up her work as a solicitor, she’d obviously kept in touch with things going on in the less well-off areas of London. He was also delighted to hear her tell them that ten years ago Dawson had served five years for a violent crime and remonstrated with them for not checking on him properly. This was all news to Jon, for he hadn’t seen the man for nearly fifteen years.

  Rose was like a tidal wave, sweeping through the problem. Dawson and his men were immediately sent packing. Mrs Green and the other helpers were reinstated, and the young boys were soon laughing in relief. Jon was stunned by the rapid action, which Rose directed with military skill, pushing aside all objections.

  Once harmony had been restored, he felt as if he’d just escaped after being under fire. He was shattered, but happy beyond belief.

  ‘I can’t thank you enough,’ he told Rose. ‘What do I owe you?’

  The dark eyes fixed on him and he could feel the strength of her character in that steady look.

  ‘I don’t want your money, young man. I’ve already got more than I know what to do with. Give it to the boys. I think some sweets would be in order, don’t you?’

  He watched her stride away. He met many people in his job, some of them in high positions, but he’d never come across anyone he respected and admired as much as Rose Freeman. It had been a privilege to see her in action.

  4

  When the last of the film was finished, Kate closed her eyes for a moment in relief. She’d received a few unfriendly glares on the first day, but when the models had seen how good she could make them look, they had accepted her. Two of them were even demanding that she take their photos all the time, but this wasn’t what she wanted to do. She’d been taking fashion pictures for only three weeks, and was already bored. It wouldn’t be so bad if she was interested in the latest fashions, but she wasn’t, and this was not what she’d joined the paper to do. There had been more variety in the photographs she’d taken at the local newspaper she had worked at. There were things going on out there in the world, and she wanted to be a part of them. Even if she wasn’t good enough to work abroad yet, there must be something useful she could do here.

  ‘Come on, Pete, let’s go back to the newsroom.’ She handed him the undeveloped films to put in the bag and slung the camera over her shoulder.

  He collected the equipment, then hurried to catch her up. ‘Would you let me try to do a couple of prints today?’

  ‘Would you like to?’ Kate watched his animated face and smiled. The Chief had given her Pete to get rid of him, but he was turning out to be an excellent assistant, and she liked him. He was eager to learn, and she could leave the developing with him now. It would be helpful if he could do some of the printing as well. She had been surprised when he’d told her that he had just turned eighteen, for he looked younger than that.

  ‘Yes, please, Miss Freeman.’ He nodded until a strand of greasy hair fell over his eyes. ‘I’d like to learn everything I can. You’re so patient and don’t mind explaining how to do the printing and developing. I’ve told my mum and dad what fun it is working with you.’ Pete gave an amused chuckle. ‘It’s good the models and designers can’t hear what you think of their latest fashions.’

  ‘Aren’t they awful?’ Kate’s grin was wide. ‘My dad would be horrified if I started wearing skirts that short.’

  ‘Oh, but you’d look better in them than the models do. They’re too skinny, but you’ve got lovely long legs …’ He turned bright red. ‘I didn’t mean to be rude, Miss Freeman.’

  ‘Call me Kate.’ She laughed to put him at his ease. ‘And thanks for the compliment, but I’ll still keep my skirts just below my knees.’

  They were both laughing as they walked into the building. While Pete hurried off to get everything ready in the darkroom, she headed for the Chief’s office.

  He was alone, so she tapped on the door and waited for him to look up.

  ‘Yes?’ He scowled up at her.

  ‘I’ve finished the fashion shoot for today. Is there anything else you’d like me to do?’

  Before Andrew Stevenson could reply, Mike poked his head around the door. ‘There’s been a robbery at a jewellers in Bond Street, Chief. Shall I cover it?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘I’m going to need a photographer and Terry’s already out, so can I take Kate with me?’ Mike gave her a sly wink.

  ‘I wouldn’t have thought you’d want her anywhere near you again, but if you’re willing to risk it …’

  Mike towed her out of the office. ‘Quick, before he changes his mind.’

  She ran into the darkroom, left Pete with instructions on what to do while she was out, grabbed her camera and film, then hurried after Mike. He was waiting outside for her. ‘Thanks, Mike.’

  ‘Don’t get too excited,’ he told her with a grin. ‘It’s a simple job, but I know you’re fed up with what you’re doing, and I thought a look at what’s going on in the streets might cheer you up.’

  ‘You’re right about that,’ she told him. ‘I feel as if I’ve been banished from the real world.’

  He chuckled as they got into his car and sped off towards Bond Street. And for once, she didn’t take any notice of his driving.

  Kate was much happier during the next week, and even the chore of attending fashion shows and taking pictures of models couldn’t wipe the smile from her face. The Chief had allowed her to do a small job for Mike, and she was hopeful it would lead to others.

  ‘Let’s get this lot developed, Pete,’ she said, as they returned to the newsroom after taking photos of a large department store’s new collection.

  He gazed at her shyly. ‘I’d like to be a photographer one day.’

  ‘Would you?’ Kate wasn’t surprised. He had been taking a great interest in the work.

  He nodded and then sighed. ‘But I don’t suppose there’s much chance of that happening.’

  She stopped, her heart going out to him. ‘Don’t ever believe that something is impossible. You can achieve anything if you try hard enough.’

  He looked at her hopefully. ‘Do you think so?’

  ‘Positive.’ She smiled in encouragement and continued walking, determined to see what she could do for him. They got on well together, and whenever she’d been frustrated with the work she was doing, Pete had been there for her in support. Although she was about five years older than him, as the weeks went by she could see he was very mature for his age. Being away from people yelling at him all day was allowing the sensible, intelligent side of him to surface. She was lucky to have him as an assistant.

  ‘Kate!’ the Chief bellowed as soon as she opened the door.

  ‘Oh,’ she said, pulling a face at Pete, ‘now what have I done? Wait here. I hope I won’t be long.’

  She headed for Andrew S
tevenson’s office and walked in through the open door. ‘You called, Chief?’

  ‘Yes, about time you got back,’ he grumbled. ‘This is Robert Sinclair. He’s just joined us and needs a photographer for the afternoon.’

  Kate smiled at the tall man, making a quick assessment. He was around thirty-five, dark blond hair and hazel eyes. He was outwardly attractive, but the deep lines around his mouth hinted at a man who was a stranger to laughter.

  She watched him look her up and down, and when his gaze returned to her face she lifted her head slightly. His expression said that he disapproved of her dark brown trousers, cream blouse and flat shoes.

  ‘You can’t come with me in trousers. I’m meeting an important man this afternoon,’ he snapped.

  ‘I keep a skirt here,’ she told him.

  ‘Change at once. We haven’t much time. And I hope you know your job – I don’t want to have to keep telling you what to do.’

  ‘You won’t even know I’m there,’ she told him sweetly. Then she turned to Andrew, who was viewing the scene through narrowed eyes. ‘Can I take Pete with me?’

  ‘Whatever for?’ he asked.

  ‘I’d like him as my permanent assistant. He’s very good at changing films and carrying equipment.’

  ‘Good Lord, is he?’ The Chief looked astonished. ‘He’s always dropping things.’

  ‘He’s eager to please, that’s all. So can I have him?’

  ‘Pete!’ Andrew bellowed through the open door.

  The boy came scuttling in. ‘Yes, sir?’

  ‘You’ve just been promoted to Kate’s permanent assistant.’

  Pete looked as if he were going to pass out with joy. ‘Thank you, sir.’

  ‘We’ll be with you in five minutes,’ Kate told the reporter, who was beginning to scowl at the delay. She towed the stunned boy out of the office. ‘Right, Pete, you go and collect six rolls of film and my tripod for me while I change into a skirt.’

  He beamed before hurrying off to carry out her orders.

  In exactly five minutes they were in Robert’s car. ‘Andrew assures me that you are competent, so I hope he’s right.’ The reporter cast her a sideways glance. ‘I’m interviewing an interesting man today. It’s taken me months to persuade him to talk to me and I want some good pictures.’