Page 106 of Sunday's Child

‘We can’t stop,’ Tommy said impatiently. ‘We’re on an important mission.’

‘We’re going to make enquiries at the orphanage, Freddie. Tommy thinks they might remember something, but I have my doubts.’

‘May I come with you? I fancy a ride after being cooped up with that madman.’

‘Why stay there then?’ Tommy demanded. ‘You could get a room at the Black Dog.’

‘As a matter of fact I’ve decided to stay on in Rockwood for a while. I’ve found myself a cottage and I’m going to earn my own living.’

Nancy turned her head to stare at him in surprise. ‘You don’t need to work, Freddie.’

‘I know, but that’s the whole point. I was fortunate enough to be born into a wealthy family, but had I been a farmer’s son or a cobbler’s child, I would have been trained to do something useful. I want to prove to you that I am just the same as other men.’

‘That’s easy to say when you’ve never had to go without,’ Tommy said sarcastically. ‘You won’t impress Nancy by pretending to be independent of your family.’

‘Maybe I want to impress myself.’

‘I’ve never heard anything so ridiculous, Freddie. You don’t need to prove anything to anyone, least of all me. And you can stop baiting him, Tommy. It isn’t funny.’ Nancy urged her horse to a trot, leaving Tommy and Freddie little alternative but to encourage their mounts to follow her.

The orphanage was situated in its own grounds a couple of miles from Greystone Park. It had the forbidding exterior favoured by the architects who designed workhouses. They were not meant to be welcoming establishments. Nancy’s heart sank as they rode up the carriage sweep to the front of the red-brick building. A small boy ran up to them, offering to hold their horses. Freddie tossed him a penny and the child beamed from ear to ear. However, the welcome from the woman who answered their knock on the door was not so friendly, and Nancy had to use all her powers of persuasion to gain admittance.

They were led down dark corridors to a small office where they waited for twenty minutes or more until the assistant matron came to speak to them. Nancy put her case briefly, but the woman shook her head.

‘I am afraid all our records for that period of time were lost in a fire.’

‘A fire?’ Nancy raised her eyebrows. ‘It doesn’t seem to have done much damage.’

‘It did at the time, but we have devoted supporters who carried out the repairs. However, I’m very sorry, Miss Sunday, I cannot help you.’

There was little they could do other than leave the premises, but Nancy was not satisfied. She waited until they were outside. Freddie tossed some coins to the child who had been taking care of their horses. The boy dived for them and ran off shouting excitedly for his mother.

‘I think that woman was lying.’ Nancy shuddered, remembering her early days in the institution. She had successfully blocked them from her mind until now, but they came flooding back.

‘Surely she would tell the truth. Why would she lie?’ Tommy looked from one to the other, but Freddie shook his head.

‘I agree with Nancy. I think that woman knows more than she was prepared to admit. Tommy, hold my horse. I have an idea.’ Freddie handed the reins to Tommy and strode off to knock on the orphanage door.

‘What the devil is he doing?’ Tommy demanded. ‘That fellow thinks he’s so important.’

‘That’s not fair, Tommy. I do wish you’d try to like Freddie. He’s a thoroughly nice person.’

‘Maybe, but he’s not good enough for you, Nancy. He’s convinced that money can buy him anything he wants.’

‘I’m sure that’s not true.’ Nancy walked the horses as they became restive while they waited for Freddie.

Eventually, after about half an hour, when Tommy was beginning to lose patience, the metal-studded oak door opened and Freddie emerged from the building.

‘Well?’ Nancy said eagerly. ‘Did you uncover any mysteries?’

‘After a great deal of persuasion and a generous contribution to their funds, I was given this.’ Freddie produced a small bundle of cloth from his coat pocket and unfurled it like a flag.

‘What is that?’ Tommy demanded.

‘It looks like a swaddling cloth,’ Nancy said slowly.

‘The matron didn’t want to admit anything at first, but greed won in the end. She had seen the crest and had hidden it away, keeping it to bargain with, should the occasion arise. Today was that day.’ Freddie pointed to a monogram embroidered in the corner of the fine cloth. ‘Do you recognise it, Nancy?’

She looked more closely. ‘It’s the Greystone family crest.’