The shock had rendered Dolly temporarily insensible, and Evan – sporting a spectacular set of bruises inflicted by an enraged Andy – had backed off fast. He didn’t want to have Dolly hanging round his neck, emotionally or professionally. After all, there had been a scandal and muck stuck.
Being a man, he had escaped the worst of the fallout, but the unfortunate Dolly had a ‘name’ now. It was obvious to everyone that the governors would never approve her promotion. Evan knew it. And Dolly knew it.
Rejected by her lover and deserted by her husband, Dolly had become a public laughing stock. The only place she could escape the gossips was Netherlands Orphanage, and to there she had retreated. The last person in the world to assume Clare Lees’ example, overnight it appeared that Dolly Blake became a prude.
‘You should see her,’ Ethel told Gilbert one Sunday as she folded the washing. ‘All buttoned up and tight-lipped, like some outraged virgin. If she sees one of the boys even looking at the girls she goes mad. Not that they can help it – the lads all hang around the railings when it’s time for church, ogling the lasses. Natural, I call it, but Dolly and Miss Lees think it’s something smutty.’
Gilbert laughed, paused in the carving of one of his wooden animals. It was just a hobby now, each one taking months to complete as he grew older and slower.
‘There’s nothing like poacher turned gamekeeper,’ he said. ‘I always said that the boys and girls should mix; having them separate like that makes them all the keener.’ He stared at the figure he was carving. ‘What about Evan Thomas? Still thinks he’s king of the midden?’
Ethel’s expression hardened. ‘He’s going to stay until Miss Lees retires or pops her clogs. That one’s hard-faced, all right. Too cocky by a half.’ She leaned against a pile of washed sheets. ‘You should see him, strutting about, bossing everyone behind Miss Lees’ back. A right toerag. Thing is, he thinks the job’s all but his – now that Dolly’s out of the running. He has no idea that Miss Lees has other plans.’
Gilbert smiled conspiratorially at his wife. ‘Our girl?’
She nodded, beaming with pride. She had never told Gilbert what she had discovered that night so long ago, and she never would. Instead she had watched over Alice with even more care and was rewarded by seeing her grow up well, gradually calming down. For Alice Rimmer had changed radically, both in appearance and temperament. It was not that she was any less emotional, simply that she had learned how to suppress her feelings, to control her outbursts. Her hotly exotic looks had cooled too. Beautiful she was, but quietly so.
The sensual strangeness had now been replaced by a true allure. The pale oval face, the dark eyes, the glossy hair were remarkable, and as Alice matured into a young woman she gave off an almost electrical charge. No one failed to recognise it, and many of her peers at Netherlands were jealous of her.
Only Hilly Barker bore Alice no resentment. Grown into a frail, elfin figure, she was as close to Alice as she had always been and was devoted to her. And so she should be, thought Ethel. After all, hadn’t Alice looked after and confided in Hilly when no one else wanted to know the sick girl in the sanatorium? Oh yes, Ethel thought, Alice was nothing if not loyal to her friends.
Another type of girl would have taken advantage of Hilly’s devotion and some of the younger girls’ slavish admiration – but Alice didn’t. Her thoughts were concentrated on one thing, and one thing only – to get away from Netherlands. Out into the world.
‘I have to get away,’ she had said months earlier. ‘I’ll go mad if I don’t.’
Ethel had soothed her, as ever. ‘In time, you will. But you’ve got the chance to get an education, Alice, so you should take the opportunity. Teachers get well paid and they’re respected. You could do a lot worse.’
Alice knew Ethel was right. Knowledge was the only way to gain respect. So she set to and she studied. Temperament and spirit were controlled. Outbursts only led to punishment and isolation. With a massive effort of will Alice learned to control her natural ebullience. Inside, she might be raging, but outside she seemed almost content with her lot.
The only one who was never fooled was Ethel. She had an instinct that Alice was plotting something, but had to admit that she was impressed by the girl’s application. Especially lately – now that Alice had confounded everyone by becoming Clare Lees’ favourite.
She didn’t ingratiate herself with the principal, but she was a quick learner and more than willing to take on some of the rudimentary teaching of the smallest children. The school inside Netherlands was makeshift, the education basic – but who was prepared to spend money educating foundlings? The future mill workers, pit boys and domestic servants? The books they had were out of date, the maps hopelessly old-fashioned, but Alice didn’t seem to mind. She could see an opportunity for herself – and she was going to take it.
The shift in power had been noticed by everyone. Evan Thomas was caught off guard and Dolly was white hot with envy.
Not for the first time, Ethel had taken it on herself to send out a warning to Alice.
‘I thought you hated Clare Lees,’ she had said a month earlier. ‘What are you up to now?’
Alice had turned her dark eyes on the matron ingenuously. ‘Why should I be up to anything?’
‘Because I know you,’ Ethel had replied. ‘I’ve known you since you were a child, and I can tell that you’re up to something.’
Alice had slid her arm through Ethel’s, the matron’s skin warm and soft to her touch. ‘I’m fine. I’m doing well now. I thought you’d be pleased.’
Ethel had studied her carefully. ‘I have to say that you’re the last person I ever expected to see teaching here.’
‘I love teaching,’ Alice had replied, ‘and the pupils seem to like me.’
Ethel had continued to study the remarkable face. But she didn’t accept the story – Alice was too beautiful to stay hidden away at Netherlands for ever. It might be all right for poor Miss Lees, but Alice was born for better things – and she had the beauty and the wit to achieve them.
‘Well, you be careful,’ Ethel had replied warningly. ‘I still say that you’re up to something. Watch out that you don’t tie a knot with your tongue that you can’t undo with your teeth. Evan Thomas thought he was the favourite – he won’t like being the loser.’
‘Don’t worry,’ Alice had reassured her, ‘I’m doing fine. Honestly, Ethel, I’m doing fine.’
Sighing, Ethel returned her thoughts to the present as she picked up the laundry. Then she looked at Gilbert. He had grown to love Alice over the years and she had seen in him a surrogate father. Something she desperately wanted. Something she had craved since she was a child. The trouble was, Ethel thought, that she already had a father – a man who might still be alive.
‘I think Alice might make a career of teaching,’ Ethel said. ‘I hope so. I want her to settle down and marry some nice lad –’
‘Hey, she’s only seventeen!’ Gilbert said sharply. ‘Give her a chance.’
‘Marriage would settle her down,’ Ethel responded. ‘A good solid home life would be the making of her.’ She thought back to the damning facts that only she knew. ‘The right man would give Alice stability.’
‘She’s got stability,’ Gilbert retorted. ‘She’s much less excitable than she used to be.’
Ethel shook her head. ‘Not really. That’s just what she wants you to think. That’s what she wants all of us to think.’
Clare Lees prided herself on the good job she had made of Alice Rimmer’s upbringing. The hysterical little girl who had arrived at Netherlands had been moulded into a clever young woman. She had calmed down,