Standish House a couple of days ago. I need your help,â he said. âIâm sorry to bother you, but I have a problem and donât know what else to do.â
After a brief hesitation, she stepped aside. âYouâd better come in.â
She led him into a large kitchen. âSit down, young man. Weâll have a cup of tea while you talk.â
And for the next hour thatâs what he did, pouring out details of his appalling childhood in a large orphanage and then in Wilkins House, and his worry for the young boys now there. He was staggered at how easy it was to tell her things heâd never mentioned to anyone else: the beatings, dirt, hunger and humiliation. Dawson had a large repertoire of ways to subdue children. Not him, though. It had made him grow up stubborn and determined, but that kind of treatment could damage a sensitive boy for life. As he talked, he knew, without a shadow, of a doubt, that she understood his worry about the boys he considered as family.
âCan you get some photographs of the place?â she asked, when he finally ground to a halt.
âNo,â he shook his head. âI tried that yesterday, but Dawsonâs put an ex-boxer on the door and he wouldnât let me in. I was tempted to use force, but I didnât think it would help my case if I got into a fight with him.â
âDescribe Dawson to me.â
âAverage height, florid complexion, must be about seventy by now â¦â
Rose stood up suddenly and called out of the kitchen door. âBill, Iâm going out for a few hours.â Then she turned back to Jon. âCome on. Show me this place.â
They went in her car and were soon at the house in Wandsworth. After getting out of the car, Rose Freeman swept up to the front door, only to be confronted by the doorman.
âOut of my way,â she ordered.
Jon was right behind her, and he was sure he saw the man flinch at the authority in her voice.
âYou canât come in here.â The man pointed to Jon. âAnd he certainly isnât welcome.â
âMr Devlin is with me.â Rose stood hands on hips and fixed her dark gaze on the man. âNow, are you going to move your body, or do I have to do it for you?â
Jon watched in wonder, in no doubt that she would carry out her threat. Even though she must be in her late fifties, he guessed, she was tall, still strong and very determined.
She brushed past the doorman, who had lost the urge to fight with this fierce woman, and, as she stepped inside, she turned her head. âCome on, Jon, letâs sort this bloody mess out!â
Dawson had come out of his office to see what the commotion was. Rose stormed up to him, and began talking to Dawson as if she knew him. And perhaps she did, for the man was clearly agitated; but Jon didnât ask any questions, he was more than happy to follow her around and watch her in action.
The next three hours were like a dream to him. After sheâd inspected the home, there was a visit to the local council offices. Even though she had given up her work as a solicitor, sheâd obviously kept in touch with things going on in the less well-off areas of London. He was also delighted to hear her tell them that ten years ago Dawson had served five years for a violent crime and remonstrated with them for not checking on him properly. This was all news to Jon, for he hadnât seen the man for nearly fifteen years.
Rose was like a tidal wave, sweeping through the
problem. Dawson and his men were immediately sent packing. Mrs Green and the other helpers were reinstated, and the young boys were soon laughing in relief. Jon was stunned by the rapid action, which Rose directed with military skill, pushing aside all objections.
Once harmony had been restored, he felt as if heâd just escaped after being under fire. He was shattered, but happy beyond belief.
âI canât thank you enough,â he told Rose.
George Simpson, Neal Burger