11. Chapter Eleven
Chapter Eleven
After Mary gently told the children that they must be on their best behavior or they wouldn’t get hot chocolate that evening, she reluctantly led Jacquelyn to Mrs. Irving’s office. Along the way, she said, “Maybe your driver and Jane will be back soon, Miss Sheridan. We could wait a while and see. Then you won’t need to use the telephone after all?”
Such trepidation, thought Jacquelyn, every word lacking conviction. Mealymouthed, that’s what Mary was.
Jacquelyn was good at taking charge, which was good because that was the only way things were going to get done. “I’ve waited long enough,” she said. “I’m not waiting another minute.”
“I’m just saying it might not be necessary after all, miss. The telephone is really only for emergencies. We’re not supposed to use it. ”
“Maybe you’re not supposed to use it, but I’m sure the rules are different where I am concerned.”
“You’re probably right, miss.”
As soon as they walked into the room, Jacquelyn spotted the black telephone on one corner of the desk, the cord trailing to a plug in the wall. She went around to Mrs. Irving’s chair, took a seat, and picked up the receiver. It wasn’t until she went to dial the operator that she noticed the cylindrical lock fastened between the numbers. “What is this?”
Mary said, “I had heard that Mrs. Irving had a lock made special by the locksmith in the village just recently, but I didn’t know she’d locked it before she left. She wanted the girls to know that the telephone is only for emergencies.”
“And this is clearly an emergency!” Jacquelyn didn’t mean to shout, but it seemed to be the only way to get through to her.
Mary’s eyes widened. “I’m sorry, miss. I wish I could help you.”
“You wish you could help?” Jacquelyn waved her hand dismissively. “If wishes were horses, beggars would ride. If you really want to help, you’ll get me the key.” She opened the desk drawer and started rifling through the paper clips, typewriter ribbon, pencils, and other detritus.
“It’s not in there,” Mary said, her voice tremulous. “It’s not here at all. Mrs. Irving keeps it with her at all times. I’m sure she took it with her on her holiday.”
“Did you not just say the phone is for emergencies? ”
“Yes, I did, Miss Sheridan.” Mary stepped back as if afraid of being struck.
“So why on God’s green earth would she leave all of you here without a working telephone? What if one of the children had a high fever or broke an arm?” The incompetence was galling. This Mrs. Irving needed to be fired and replaced by someone with half a brain.
“You’re right, of course. It doesn’t make sense. I’m not sure why she took the key,” Mary said. “Except that she had a problem once when one of the girls used the phone without permission. Since then, she’s kept it locked all the time.”
“You tell me. What good is it if you can’t use it?”
Mary shrugged. “In an emergency, if we needed the doctor, either Jane or I could walk into town and fetch him.”
“Well, that’s what you must do, then. I’ll stay here, and you go into town and fetch someone to drive me home.”
Mary shook her head. “Oh no, miss. I don’t really know anyone in town who could do that, and in any case, I can’t leave the children.”
Jacquelyn’s eyes narrowed. “Are you outright refusing my order?” This was something she had never encountered before. Without exception, everyone, from the tailor to her parents to the other girls at school, had always let her have her way. Once, at home, she’d stamped her foot at being denied a new frock, and her father had laughed and said, “I’m so sorry. I forgot for a minute who I was speaking to.” After that he’d allowed her to order the dress, never questioning the cost. That was how the world worked for her. Up until now .
“I would love to help you, but it’s not possible.”
“Of course it’s possible. Just do what I tell you to do.”
“The good news is that we can still receive calls.”
“And how exactly would that help me?”
Mary pursed her lips. “It’s so odd to see you dressed as Jane. It’s uncanny. You look like her, but you don’t act like her.”
“I understand that Miss Shaw acts differently. Of course that’s the case—she hasn’t seen the world like I have. I understand what it takes to get things done. I’m a Sheridan. Do you think my father could have built an empire by meekly sitting back and waiting to see what happens?”
“I would guess not.”
“So I’m telling you again that you need to find someone to drive me home. Immediately.”
Mary straightened. “Miss Sheridan, my responsibility is to these fifty girls. Now that Jane is gone, it’s up to me alone to oversee their health and safety.”
“Oh my word.” She had no patience for excuses. “I think they can be left for an hour or so. Besides, I’ll be here.”
“I’m sorry, Miss Sheridan. I can’t abandon my responsibilities. The answer is no.” Mary turned her back on her and walked out of the room. Just left, as if Jacquelyn was of no consequence at all. Did she not understand that if not for the Sheridan family’s generosity she and the rest of the urchins would be out on the street? The nerve.
Jacquelyn followed her, calling out, “Then have one of the older girls go instead. The fresh air and exercise would be good for them. ”
Mary didn’t even turn around, just shook her head. Such galling behavior. Mentally, Jacquelyn added Mary’s name to the list of those she wanted fired from the Sheridan Girls’ Home. Jane. Mrs. Irving. Mary. She’d have all three of them packing their bags and out the door before the year was over. There was a depression going on, and people were begging for work. Plenty of people would love to have such an easy job.
She also had to deal with Eddie, who’d driven off and left her behind. Stupid Eddie. How could he not tell the difference between herself and Jane Shaw? She was in a terrible predicament. It was hard to say who was at fault, but there was enough blame to go around.
When they reached the entrance to the dining room, Mary stopped to speak with her. “Did you want to tell the girls that you’re not Jane, miss, or would you like me to do it?”
Jacquelyn said, “Why should we tell them anything? They’re children. It’s none of their business.”
“They’re going to notice the difference,” Mary said. “They adore Jane.”
Was she implying that Jacquelyn was not the type to be adored? Such nonsense. “Listen, I honestly don’t care what you do because I won’t be here that much longer. Just go about your business. I’ll be busy figuring out a way to get home.”
“I’ll tell them that Miss Shaw is not feeling well and that they shouldn’t bother her.” Mary cast a nervous look at the girls in the dining room, who were now all curiously watching them .
“Fine. As long as I’m left alone.” Why would she care if the girls noticed that Jane was gone? She wasn’t here to comfort upset children. It wasn’t in her nature. Mentally, she cursed out her brother David. This whole trip had been a mistake—one she’d never make again.