Sister's Trio Squad

Chapter 24

Chapter 24

'I have brought her home and I demand to see her father!' 'Mr Vannin is at his work. What's wrong?'

An exercise book was thrust into her hand.

"This is what's wrong - amongst other things!' Margaret opened it. Instead of the rows of neat hand writing, there was a crudely drawn figure of a man with pins sticking out of him and underneath in large, black letters were the words I hate my father and I wish he were in hell'

'Oh, Ellen, you didn't do this, did you?'

The child refused to look at her. 'Sister, would you like to come in here? Ellen, please go up to your room." Shocked though she was, Margaret maintained her calm façade as she ushered the nun into the front parlour and motioned her to sit down.

'I won't say I'm not shocked, I am, but, Sister, the child is very disturbed. She was very close to her late mother I believe and children sometimes do strange things.

'I would call that more than "strange" Miss . . .? 'O'Maxwell,' she supplied.

I'd call it downright evil and Mother Superior is of the same opinion! The child shows no respect for anyone, she's insolent and slovenly and that' - she pointed to the exercise book that is the work of the Devil himself!'

Margaret had been taught by nuns and had grown up with respect and affection for most of them, except for one. Sister Augustina had had a temper that matched Nancy's, an intolerant and vindictive nature and her Ma had said she should never have taken the veil' in the first place. This one reminded Margaret of Sister Augustina. 'Surely you're not suggesting that she's "possessed", that's utterly ridiculous! They abolished the Inquisition years ago and they've even stopped witch-hunting, or at least I thought they had, Sister .?'

Imelda. And don't take that flippant tone with me, young woman! That child is evil and I'll wait and speak to her father!'

Then you'll have a long wait. He won't be home until this evening and I have my duties to attend to.' 'I'll wait. I'll pray for the poor man!'

As you please. I'll have some lunch sent in to you

later.'

She left closing the door quietly after her, unwilling to let the nun see that she was in any way disturbed. But she'd have to talk to Ellen. She'd have to get to the bottom of this once and for all. As she crossed the hall the doorbell rang again and she stopped dead. 'Oh, don't let it be him! Please, Holy Mother! Not before I've had time to talk to

Ellen,' she prayed.

She opened the door again and was confronted by a young woman very smartly turned out in a silver grey two-piece, a fox fur around her shoulders and a small black velvet cloche hat covering carefully waved, light brown hair. She closely resembled her employer. 'Mrs Winskill?' Margaret queried.

Lewis Vannin's elder daughter swept past her into the hall. 'Yes. Where's Mrs Rickard?'

'She's gone. I am the housekeeper now. I'm Miss O'Maxwell.'

'Really. Is my father coming home for lunch?"

'I don't expect him.'

"Then who is in the front parlour?' 'One of the nuns from Ellen's school."

'What does she want?"

'I'm afraid there has been some trouble.' Mrs Winskill drew off her black kid gloves with obvious annoyance. 'Oh, not more! Where is the little wretch? What she needs is her backside tanning.'

Margaret remembered Mrs Rickard's acid description of Elizabeth Winskill, née Vannin, and she felt even more protective towards Ellen. Was there no one who really cared about the poor child?

'I would think that is the last thing she needs. A little love and understanding wouldn't go amiss where Ellen's concerned.'

'Since you've only been here five minutes, I don't think you're in any position to comment at all, especially on things that don't concern you and which you know nothing about!'

'It doesn't take a fool to see that the child is desperately unhappy!'

'Where is she?' Elizabeth snapped, ignoring the impli

cation.

'In her room."

'And have you sent for Father?'

'No and I don't intend to until I've spoken to Ellen.' 'I think you're over-stepping your place, Miss O'Maxwell. This is a family matter."

"The more I see of families, the more I think I prefer strangers to relations!' Margaret held the exercise book behind her, wondering if in fact she hadn't now gone too far.

Elizabeth Winskill glared at her. 'I'll go down to the office myself, this minute, and inform my father and I will tell Sister what's-her-name of my intentions. And with that she turned on her heel and crossed to the parlour door, her heels tapping on the par quet floor.

sighed. That hadn't been a very auspicious introduction and it boded ill for Ellen and for herself. She went up the stairs quickly and knocked on the bedroom door, then went in.

Ellen was sitting on the bed, still with her hat and coat on, Margaret sat down beside her. Over the weeks she had tried to get closer to the child and had, to some extent, succeeded and that had lulled her into believing that Ellen's behaviour had improved.

'Ellen, why did you do such a terrible thing? You can't mean it, it's a wicked thing to have done and now your sister has gone for your Pa! What are we going to tell him?'

'I hate Lizzie and she hates me! Everyone hates me!' 'Don't be silly, of course they don't.'

Ellen took off her hat and threw it across the room. "That's not going to do any good, is it? We're going to have to find some explanation, Ellen, because they'll be back soon.'

The light brown hair had slipped from its ribbons and fell across the child's face like a curtain, hiding her ex pression, but her shoulders began to shake and Margaret realized that she was crying. The sound tore at her heart.

'Oh, Ellen, what are we going to do with you?' She began to sob harder and Margaret took her in her arms, holding her close, tears welling in her own eyes as over and over again the little girl sobbed, 'I want my Ma! I want my Ma! Why did she go and leave me with them?'

Margaret suddenly understood. The stealing, the de fiance, the pent-up hatred, they were all cries for help that everyone had ignored. In his own grief, Ellen's father had obviously shut himself off from her. She had little love for her elder sister; that was evident and she suspected it was mutual. No one had seen or heard the cries of this child who so desperately needed to be loved and comforted. As Margaret rocked her in her arms, all the love that was locked in her heart broke free and she vowed that even if it cost her her job, she wouldn't let them hurt Ellen any longer. Just quite what she would do, she didn't know, but somehow she would find a way. Ellen needed her and she wouldn't desert her. She wouldn't go down without putting up a fight.

Margaret heard Elizabeth and her father return and go into the parlour. The child had at last sobbed herself quiet, but at the sounds from below she raised red, swollen eyes.

You stay here and be quiet!'

'You won't let them send me away, Miss O'Maxwell, will you?' 'Not if I can help it, Ellen. I'll do the best I can for

you, I promise, and in return you'll have to promise me that you won't do anything bad in the future?' The child clung to her. 'I won't! I promise I won't!' Margaret slowly and gently disentangled herself. 'I'll

come back up as soon as I can.' As she closed the door behind her she thought that tackling Bart and Maura had been simple compared with what she must now do. Within minutes she could well find herself without a job and out on the street!

As she opened the parlour door the voices ceased and three pairs of eyes turned towards her. For an instant she faltered, as the hostility of both Sister Imelda and Elizabeth was directed fully at her and she saw the grim set of the lips and the hard glint in the cold eyes of her employer.

'She's got the book, Father!' "Thank you, Elizabeth, I can speak for myself! Do you have this book, Miss O'Maxwell?' 'Yes. But could I have a word with you, Sir, in private, please?'

'Whatever you've got to say can be said in front of us all. This is a family matter, as I've already pointed out

to you.' Margaret ignored Elizabeth's outburst and continued to stare calmly but eloquently at Lewis Vannin. 'May I see this book?' he insisted.

She had no alternative but to hand it to him. Sister Imelda averted her eyes then raised them to the ceiling in silent invocation, Elizabeth glanced at the book and then looked away in disgust. Lewis Vannin stared at the caricature of himself for a long time before he closed the book. 'I will deal with my daughter appropriately, Sister Imelda.'

"That won't be sufficient, Mr Vannin. I must inform you that under no circumstances can we have her back at the convent. Seafield Convent cannot tolerate such a bad influence. Mother Superior made that quite clear to me! I think that you should take the child to the Parish Priest immediately.'

Margaret couldn't help herself. 'So she can be exor cised, I presume?' "Thank you, Miss O'Maxwell and you Sister Imelda, I

will deal with my daughter. I need no advice from either of you!' Mr Vannin snapped. 'So that's another school she's been expelled from! Oh,

this will look fine won't it, when the word gets around.' 'I don't think we need discuss that now, Elizabeth.' 'We need to discuss what we're going to do with the little wretch!'

Elizabeth!' The word was uttered like the snapping of a steel trap and his elder daughter fell silent and began to adjust the fur around her shoulders. 'Miss O'Maxwell, will you see Sister Imelda out? I will write to Mother Superior.'

Margaret moved forward to open the door and the nun rose and swept past her, her face like thunder. After she had closed the front door Margaret passed her hand over her forehead. That was one less protagonist, which just left the other two, but they were far more formidable.

As she re-entered the room, Elizabeth was pacing up and down, urging all kinds of dire retribution. Her father stood staring at the book that he still held. Margaret took her courage in both hands. She had to do her best for Ellen and it was now or never.

'May I have that word now, Mr Vannin, please?"

He looked up and nodded briefly, his expression vague

and disturbed.

Elizabeth stopped pacing. 'Well, I can see that I'm not needed or wanted here!' she said venomously. 'I'm sorry, Mrs Winskill, I don't wish to appear rude

or intrusive."

'Whether you wish to or not, that is just what you are, Miss O'Maxwell. As for you, Father, don't expect me to call again and don't come to me when that little Madam up gets into more trouble. I'm sure Miss O'Maxwell will sort everything out for you!' And with that she snatched her bag and gloves and stormed out.

It wasn't until the front door slammed that Margaret spoke. Please forgive me, I had no wish to upset your daughter or cause a rift between you.' 'My daughter takes offence at the slightest thing. She spends most of her time being as objectionable as she

can - except when she needs money.' 'I think it would be best if I took the book and burned it, Sir. Ellen didn't mean it. I've talked to her . . .' She held out her hand.

He looked at the book again and then to her relief handed it to her. Leaning on the mantelshelf, he rested his head on one hand. 'What's got into the child. She's more trouble than she's worth!"

He appeared to be thinking aloud and Margaret wondered if she should leave him alone and let him think on the matter. After all, she'd gone as far as she dared. Then he turned to her, as if remembering her presence. 'What do you suggest I do with her? You seem ready

enough with answers for other problems!'