THE PRISONER'S SISTER

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXXIV, Issue 22864, 20 October 1937, Page 27

THE PRISONER'S SISTER

By PEARL BELLAIRS Author of " Velvet and Steel "

CHAPTER V TROUBLE WITH THE LANDLORD

Walking in the streaming crowds of the Christmas shoppers, swept along with the tide in the London streets, Julio found herself in no better position with regard to a job than she had been on the day before. She had tried ard tried since early morning to get a job helping in the Christmas rush in one of the big stores. But wherever she went she was told the same thing, and not always too politely, by people whose nerve were already frayed by the effort of coping with too much work. "No; we've no vacancies! Wo took on all our Christmas extras three days ago." No one had time to talk about it; not one of all the thousands of eager faces turned toward the Christmas display windows ever turned toward Julie with a thought for her. She thought of friends she had had in tho country before her father died and the family came to London; but it was no good thinking of them, what would they say and do, after what had happened to Tom P

Other friends sho had made since then, friends of Tom's in Rand's office, had made no move to approach her since Tom's disgrace. Sho believed that it was because they were afraid that they might be implicated in the business, rather than that thoy would have done nothing for her. Better, perhaps, the bitterness of accepting Rand's help than applying to them! She walked from. Hammersmith to the city during the course of that day; and back again to Victoria. • She saw the great new bridge being built over tho Thames. It was being built by Ferris Rand and Co. Tom had taken her to see the commencement of the driving of the first pile; and now tho great steel frame was rising over tho river.

With weary feet Julie stood looking over the embankment at the busy scene. What a terrific undertaking! It wouldn't be finished for six months. Every day thousands of men were at work. The river noises and the clank of metal, the blast of welding made a great symphony. The tremendousness of it all dwarfed her own small struggle —the struggle, to live in this seething, indifferent, cruel, yet beautiful London. Christmas was the worst time of all to be without a friend. When she arrived home, foot-sore, tired out and hungry at half-past six, she found that tho Craddocks had been giving her situation some • serious thought. It wasn't that they were unfriendly. " Only I can't afford it, see!" said Mrs. Craddock. She was a thin woman, with a lot of teeth in front. " I ha%'en't had any rent from you for five weeks!" "Not for five weeks!" echoed Mr. Cradddock. " Well, that's all very well—l know as you've had trouble. I don't grudge you the roof —not that I can afford it, mind you!" said Mrs. Craddock. "But something's got to be done. You've got to do something! Before I know where I am I'll be feeding the lot of you over Christmas! That's what I'll be doing. .You've got to do something with those jftliildren—the woman that came from the Welfare will see after them. They won't come to no harm. Only you can't keep them yourself—it's no good to try 1 Before we know where we are it 11 bo us that's bearing the burden of them — that's what it'll be!" They met Julie in the hall to say this to her. Old Mrs. Bolton, knowing nothing of their intentions, heard sounds of the conversation from the kitchen and came out. . "Now, Sue!" she said in a worried tone. " What's all this about?" " You just keep out of this, Auntie, said Mrs. Craddock aggressively. " We don't want none of your'interfering " No, we don't!" said Mr. Craddock. You clear off!" Mrs. Bolton, who had the mildest face in the world, stiffened up and became very red. She jerked her head toward Julie, who was leaning against the wall, silent, in too great a despair to say anything in reply to Mrs. Craddock. ~ " You turn her out, said Mrs. Bolton, "and I'll go too!" "Oh, you will, will you!" said Mr. Craddock. ~ . ... "Yes, I will! You fat idle pig, you! The discussion turned into a row betwoen Mrs. Bolton and Mr. Craddock, and drifted toward the kitchen, giving Julie time to slip up the stairs. She was grateful to Mrs. Bolton. But what could Mrs. Bolton do? And the Craddocks were right. They would be feeding Dolly and Will over Cliristmas. . . Even the children wero silent anu ielt her alone, for they could see that tonight there was really something the matter with Julie. She looked so white and tired. . She sat for some time, with her lieau in her hands, thinking things over. Then she went out to the telephone call box along the road. She found the number of Rand s Dover Street flat, and rang him there. It was all utterly humiliating, but she was glad when she heard that he was in.

"Mr. Rand, this is Julio Moffat speaking." He didn't seem at all surprised, and his voice was very businesslike as usual as he replied. That made it easier.

" I've decided to take that job you offered if it's still going," said Julio. " Yes, it's still going." " What would my salary be?"

There was silence on tho lino for a moment. Rand's mind had been full of other things. Part of his great energy in the conduct of his enterprises was that he had a capacity for filing his problems until the time came to deal with them. He treated the domestic affairs of tho Moffat family in the samo way. When Julie left his flat his intention had been to give her three or four days in which to change her mind; and until then, except for occasional moments of not unflattering wonder at her Courage, ho had forgotten about her.

"Your salary? Oh, well —say two potrtms ten a week to start with." " Vorv well," said Julie, and thinking of Mrs. Bolton she asked: "And, Mr. Rand, will you want a cook or an assistant cook in the hotel? T know of a woman who cooks wonderfully, and J. think she would like the job. -Sho worked for six years at Barkletts Hotel." " Bring her along." When do I start?" " Soon after Christmas. I'll send someone down to Lime Grove to look round first. The first of January would do." " Start on the first of January?" " Yes." Julie's heart sank like lead. They had to live until then! " I'll got my secretary to drop you a. line after Christmas, and advance you your fare down to the plare." Julie wanted to ask if they might go down on the morrow. But her pride was a gag in her mouth. She could ask for Mrs. Bolton, but not for herself. " Very well, Mr. Rand. Thank you." Tn the world of affairs when anyone came to terms with Rand they asked for what they wanted. As Julie asked for nothing he assumed that she needed nothing. "So that's that thenP" he said.

A DRAMATIC STORY OF JUSTICE AND MERCY

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" Yes." " Very well, then, Goodbye!"

He rang off. So that was done. Rand was to be her employer. Like Mr. Craddock, who said he couldn't afford to be a Christian, Julie couldn't afford to pick and choose. The flag was hauled down. There was some peace, after all, in defeat. But they still had to get through Christmas. She knocked on tho door of the kitchen when she got back. Mrs, Craddock came to it with a hardening face. " I've got a job," said Julie. " As quick as that?" said Mrs. Craddock, suspiciously. _ ~ " It starts on the first of January, said Julie. " If you'll let me stay hero until then, I'll pay you all my back rent out of my earnings." "I don't care about my back rent!What I want to know is have you got enough money to buy food for over Christmas—otherwise out you go." " Yes, I have!" _ " You show it me!" said Mrs. Craddock. 7 Julio looked at her in silent defiance. But she knew she had only ninepenco to show. She walked upstairs, and found that Mrs. Bolton had gone up there to take refuge from Craddock. Julie told her about the job. Mrs. Bolton was incredulous, then impressed. " 'Oo do you say the gentleman is? Mr. Rand?' Well I never! Lives in Dover Street? Your brother's employer! Well! And I'm to bo cook! Well, I don't know! In tho country, you say? It sounds a bit of all right to me! And do you think it's all right? I mean—you so young and all? I wouldn't like any harm to come —! Is 'e an old gentleman?" " He doesn't mean any harm," said Julie. " And what'll you do over Christmas —that's what I want to know?" askedMrs. Bolton, her plump face clouding over. " I 'ad to give that Craddock some money to-night! The twister, 'e is! I 'aven't one and sixpence to me name or I'd 'elp you out!" " I must tr\ r and get something tomorrow," said Julie. " You're fair wore out!" said Sirs. Bolton. " You ain't fit to be trapesing round tho streets looking for work!" CHAPTER VI. \ MRS. BOLTON TAKES A HAND That Christmas Eve was quite the worst day of Julie's life. She thought that some of them recently had been prcty bad, but Fhis was worse. A bitter wind blow. Her quest for work seemed utterly useless. People were more sympathetic that day. Once she was given a cup of hot coffee, and once a cup of tea. It warmed .her body and her heart, but it didn't alter the fact that unless sho got something the children would bo hungry to-night and to-morrow sho would have only the parish to bpg from. Meanwhile Mrs. Bolton, who had even less hope that Julie would find work than Julie had herself, went off down to the telephone box toward three in the afternoon; and after poring over the' book for a while, she rang up Rand's flat.

Sho wasn't used to tho telephone, she couldn't hear or make herself heard very well, and it was a great ordeal for her. She only got his manservant to let her speak to Rand with difficulty. Then, with many stumbles, and much breathing, she explained to Rand that she was the one he had engaged to cook at Lime Grove. Did he know that Miss Moffat hadn't a penny to tide her over Christmas, and the children would be in tho workhouse, surely, if something wasn't done? And though she was taking a liberty in asking, Miss Moffat was such a deserving young lady that it would be a world of help to her if Rand were to make her an advance on her wages.

Rand felt ho had been inept in dealing with tho situation. Women and children were not to be handled in the same way as engineering contracts. He told Mrs. Bolton he would send someone down to Kew to look into the matter, and rang off. Ho called his man, Ell. "What is there in that house of mine at Hindhead, Ell?" I Ell thought. The effort always made him half close his eyes. It made him look like Alice's dormouse, just about to go off to sleep, though always in a deferential fashion.

"There's furniture, sir," said Ell. "Glass and crockery. Kitchcnware. Mattresses and blankets. No silver, nor cutlery. No linen, sir. And it's none of it, 1 may say, the sort of thing that would bo fit for you to use, sir. Very out-of-date, and shabby, sir—very!" "Well, will you go out and buy enough linen for four beds, and anything else to make tho house ready for use? And enough provisions to last over Christinas. Have it all put in the touring car and tell Kelcher I'll want him to take it down to the house this evening." "Very well, sir." "Buy some toys and crackers and so on that a boy of eight would like." "Very well, sir," "Girl's of twelve —do they read books ?"

Ell considered for a moment. "They should do, sir." "Then buy some books that girls of twelve read."

"Very well, sir." "On second thoughts, buy enough linen for six beds." "Six, sir?" "Yes, six." "Very well, sir."

Ell was suffering. The horrid thought had come to him that his master intended to spend Christmas in the house at Hindhead. In Ell's opinion, nothing could be more of a disaster, if it were true. The place wasn't civilised. There wasn't any electric power for the iron even.

"Will that be all, sir?" said Ell, in a melancholy tone. "Yes; let me know when you have got the things, and I'll give you an address in Kew to call at on your way to Hindhead. 1 want you to take some people down to the house and got them settled there."

"Where shall I find you, sir?" "Hero at five o'clock. And see that you get the sort of things that children like to have at Christmas." "I 'ope my choice will give satisfaction, sir I" Rand sometimes thought that lie would like to kick the humility out ot Ell. But Ell had been brought up to hold himself humbly, and the sky would fall sooner than 1011 would alter. His veins ran with oil, but he had a heart and nerves like other men. Rand, though he was apt to be irritated by the affections that tied him to people, had an'affection for 1011. Ell hurried out to order linen, cutlery and silver, etc., and to send Kelclier, the second chauffeur, with a car to pick them up. He put on his sober hat and went out to buy the books and toys and provisions himself. Hand went off to an emergency board meeting, jiware that he wasn't giving as much attention to it as he ought. He'was glad to be able to do anything he could for the Moffat children, but he wasn't getting much satisfaction from playing the benefactor. Perhaps it was Julie Moffat who had given him the feeling that he couldn't square himself that way. As he wejnt out into the murk of the. London afternoon he thought of Tom Moffat in a prison cell —which was not

(To be continued daily)