5. Chapter Five
Chapter Five
It was unnerving to see someone who was the mirror image of herself. Jane found herself avoiding a direct gaze as she moved forward with the tour, searching for things to say as they walked through the building. “You’ve already seen the entryway. Over here is Mrs. Irving’s office. She’s the matron in charge here.” Jane led the way into the room.
Mrs. Irving’s desk was neat, holding a black Royal typewriter, a telephone, a desk lamp, an empty jam jar filled with pencils, and a framed photo of her late husband. Jane had never seen the surface of the desk devoid of paperwork until now. Presumably, everything had been tucked away in the filing cabinet or desk drawers. A framed painting of a bowl of fruit hung between two windows. “I’m guessing that Mrs. Irving keeps in touch with the foundation during the year and speaks to your parents, but I don’t know for certain how that works. ”
“My brother and I head up the foundation.” Miss Sheridan’s tone was imperious. “Not my parents.”
“I see.” Jane lingered next to the desk, not sure what to say next.
Miss Sheridan took off her gloves and stuck them in her pockets. “Well, let’s get going, shall we?”
Sensing impatience, Jane walked more quickly, narrating as they went. She showed her the working area of the kitchen and the shelves filled with food supplies.
“It seems very well stocked,” Miss Sheridan observed with one raised eyebrow. “No one goes hungry, I assume?”
“No, Miss Sheridan, no one here ever goes hungry. Because of your family’s generosity, every child here has what she needs to grow up to be healthy, educated, well mannered, and proper.” This was a line Jane had heard the matron utter many times.
“Very good.” Miss Sheridan nodded approvingly.
Jane opened the swinging door to show the girls seated at the tables in the dining room, their heads bowed in prayer. How clever of Mary to have found an activity to keep them quiet. “I think it would be best not to disturb them.”
“I would agree with that.”
Jane led her to the area they called the gathering room. It was spacious with a brick fireplace and bookshelves. Two large davenports sat on opposite walls. Wooden tables with straight-backed chairs filled the middle of the room. This room was used for studying or smaller gatherings. Sometimes on winter nights when the girls had gone to sleep and a fire was burning bright in the fireplace, Jane slipped into the room and pretended this was a library in her own house. It was the kind of room a wealthy family might have, the kind dreams were made of. “The older girls use this room for studying and writing papers. It’s also in use if the girls get visits from family.”
“Family visits?” Miss Sheridan said. “I thought they were orphans.”
“Many of them are, but about half have families who can’t care for them.” Jane remembered one father who’d shown up roaring drunk, stumbling and shouting. Mrs. Irving had to send him away. The little girl had been waiting for her daddy’s visit for weeks. When she found out what had happened, she’d sobbed for hours.
“Why, that’s preposterous!” Miss Sheridan frowned. “Their families refuse to accept their responsibilities? I don’t agree with parents refusing to shoulder the burden of raising their own children. It’s laziness.”
“Many of the parents are sick or lacking funds to pay for food and education,” Jane said gently. “For most of the girls, the Sheridan Girls’ Home is their only chance to have a secure, happy childhood. We’re all grateful for the kindness and generosity of your family.”
“I just don’t approve.”
Jane tried again. “My own mother died when I was a little girl. My father had gone missing years before, and my relatives couldn’t take me in. Without this place, I don’t know what would have happened to me. The home fulfills a valuable role, especially now with the Depression. The Sheridan name has become synonymous with the improvement of society. ”
Miss Sheridan’s expression softened. “Everyone knows that it’s my family who pays all the bills here?”
“Yes, the girls pray for your family’s health and happiness every night. And the people in the village also know that Frank and Irene Sheridan and their foundation are the founders and benefactors of this home. Your family is famous for their benevolence.”
“Well, that’s something, anyway.”
Jane gestured toward the hallway. “Shall we proceed?”
As they walked, Miss Sheridan asked, “Where are the classrooms?”
“The girls attend class in the village. It’s about a mile walk from here.” She turned into one of the sleeping rooms. “This is one of four sleeping quarters for the girls. Mary and I also sleep in the same area as the girls, so we’re available if they have a bad dream or become ill during the night. Mrs. Irving has her own room.” Before them was an expansive room with rows of cots. At the end of each cot was a trunk labeled with the last name of a girl. Everything each girl owned had to fit in her trunk, no exceptions.
Miss Sheridan walked through the room, reaching down at one point to press on a mattress. With a bewildered look on her face, she turned to Jane. “Where do they keep their pillows?”
Jane shook her head. “We don’t have pillows here.”
“Why not?”
“It’s an unnecessary luxury. We have all that’s needed and nothing more. Each girl is assigned a set of sheets and two blankets, one light blanket and one heavy one. The heavy one is made of wool. It goes on top.”
Miss Sheridan nodded in what looked like approval. After a long pause, she asked, “What’s next?”
“The lavatory, I guess.” Jane led the way to the communal lavatory used by her group of girls. The one used by Mary’s charges was on the other side of the hallway and was identical to this one. Once inside, she gestured to the tubs, the partitioned toilets, and the trough sink topped with a long mirror. “It’s set up to accommodate the fact that many girls use it at the same time. We have twice-weekly baths with warm water.” This was a point of pride at the home. Other facilities bathed less often and in cold water. Or at least that’s what she’d been told.
Miss Sheridan walked into the middle of the room, taking it all in. She stopped in front of the mirror, looking at herself and then Jane. “Can you believe that people say we look alike?”
She’d sounded so offended that Jane wasn’t sure what to say.
Miss Sheridan stepped closer to the mirror and stared, then adjusted her hat before looking back at Jane. “If they think it’s a joke, I don’t find it funny.”
“It’s probably because our hair is the same color.”
“Hmmm.” Miss Sheridan folded her arms and gave Jane a long look. A smile crossed her face. “You know what would be hysterical? If we switched clothing, just for giggles.”
“Switch clothing? ”
“Yes!” Miss Sheridan sounded gleeful. “We should switch clothing and fix your hair to match my own. I can even braid mine to look like you.” She shuddered. “I bet it would take all of ten seconds before the difference becomes apparent. Eddie for sure would be able to tell us apart instantly. So much for us looking identical. I would be the one to have the last laugh.”
“That would be one way to prove a point, Miss Sheridan,” Jane said. “But it’s a bit drastic, don’t you think?”
“No,” she said with a grin. “I don’t think it’s drastic at all. It might turn out to be the most interesting thing that’s happened to me all week.”