Away in a Manger (2 page)

“Mrs. Sullivan will expect to see you wearing that when she comes for Christmas. She went to a lot of trouble to make that for you. It wouldn't be right to give it away. Besides, you might need it yourself if it gets any colder.” I put my arm around her, noting that she was growing so fast she would soon be up to my shoulder. “We'll go to the dry goods store tomorrow and you can choose some yarn to knit her a scarf and mittens, all right?”

She nodded, smiling.

“Now we need to put all this away and get to work. Liam needs to be changed and fed, and I need to put Captain Sullivan's dinner in the oven.”

I said the last with satisfaction. For once Daniel had no major case keeping him out late at police headquarters. He had been able to eat dinner with us most evenings and even had some time to play with his son. I just prayed that nobody committed a murder or any other dastardly crime before Christmas, so that we could celebrate the holiday together.

I was particularly looking forward to Christmas this year. It would be the first one that Liam could actually enjoy with us, now that he was fifteen months and walking on his solid little legs. I pictured his excitement as he unwrapped a package with a toy inside. And we'd have a tree with glass ornaments and turkey and plum pudding. I sighed with contentment. We'd been through a lot this year. It was about time our life ran smoothly for a while.

I put a shepherd's pie in the oven, and was in the middle of feeding Liam his mashed carrots and milk pudding when the front door opened, sending a blast of icy air down the passage toward us.

“Papa's home,” Daniel called. “Where's that boy of mine?”

Liam squealed in delight, squirmed, and tried to stand up in his high chair, luckily prevented by the straps. Daniel came into the kitchen, his cheeks bright red from the cold. “
Brrr,
it's chilly out there tonight,” he said. “If it snows again it will stick this time. That wind off the Hudson cuts through like a knife. Don't tell my mother but I'm really glad for that scarf she knitted me.”

He grinned as he came around the table to kiss me, then turned his attention to Liam.

“What's that you're eating?” he said. “Milk pudding? My favorite. I think I'll eat it all up.” And he pretended to put his face down toward Liam's plate.

“No. Mine,” Liam said clearly, making us both laugh.

“And how was your day, Miss Bridie?” Daniel asked as she brought a wet washcloth to clean up Liam's face.

“We met an angel,” Bridie said. “At least she looked as if she could be an angel. She was singing very sweetly.”

Daniel looked across at me and raised an eyebrow.

“We saw a beggar child on Broadway,” I said. “She was singing ‘Away in a Manger.' She really did have a sweet voice, poor little thing. We've looked for some of Bridie's outgrown clothes to give her, and Bridie's going to knit her a scarf.”

Daniel frowned. “You want to be careful getting involved with people like that,” he said.

“Daniel, she was a little child. She was shivering in the cold and singing.”

“I'm sure she looked quite adorable,” he said. “That's the whole point. We're having all sorts of trouble with pickpockets this season. More than usual. Anywhere there's a crowd. We suspect that one or more of the bigger gangs is involved. And a little child is exactly what the more sophisticated of the gangs would use.”

“How could she pick pockets when she's sitting in a doorway?” I demanded, feeling my hackles rising now.

“She's the diversion, Molly. Don't you see?” he said patiently. “People hear her singing. They look across and see a sweet little girl and feel sorry for her. Some even put a penny or two in her cup. And while they are distracted a slick operator is taking their purse or going through their pockets.”

“Oh, dear,” I said. “I never thought of that. I suppose you may be right. How sad to use a child like that.”

“She may even have a home and proper clothes when she's not working,” Daniel said. “The beggar child in rags may be all part of the act.”

I didn't want to think it but I realized it could well be true. There were plenty of slick criminals in New York City. Plenty of evil minds who would give no second thought to using a child for their schemes. But at that moment Bridie said angrily, “She wasn't a bad person. She wasn't. You could see it from her face. She looked like an angel. In fact I believe she is an angel, come down for Christmas.”

Daniel ruffled her hair. “Perhaps she is,” he said gently. “And she may well be a thoroughly nice child who has no choice about what she's being made to do. Anyway, let's talk of more cheerful things, shall we? I have the day off tomorrow—barring any major crimes overnight. So I thought we might take a trip uptown.”

“Uptown?” I asked.

“I want to show Liam FAO Schwarz. You know,” he went on when I looked puzzled, “the big fancy toy store on Fifth Avenue? I hear they have life-size toy soldiers outside and a fantastic train set running right across their windows.”

“How lovely.” I beamed at him. “And Bridie just asked today if we could visit Macy's store on Thirty-fourth. She's heard the windows there are all decorated for Christmas.”

“We can do that too,” Daniel said.

“But I have to go to school tomorrow,” Bridie said. “We don't break up for Christmas until the day after tomorrow.”

“I think they won't mind if you skip a day or so of school,” Daniel said. “You've worked hard at your lessons. Besides, shopping uptown is educational.” He winked at me. “And we need to buy a tree sometime soon. We'll need you to help choose.”

“Oh, yes.” Bridie's eyes lit up. “Can it be a big one? Will we put it in the front parlor window?”

“It can and we will,” Daniel said. “Now I think we'd better take that young man out of his seat before he explodes with frustration.”

He unstrapped Liam and threw him up in the air, making the boy squeal with delight again.

“Careful. He's just eaten,” I warned. “It may come back all over you if you do that.”

Daniel rapidly handed him back to me and I passed him to Bridie. “If you change him and put on his nightclothes he can come down and play with his daddy before dinner,” I said.

As she went upstairs with the baby I turned to Daniel. “She has grown into such a helpful girl,” I said. “She handles him so confidently. And he adores her.”

“That's as maybe, but we still need a proper servant, Molly. You must see that,” Daniel said. “You can't keep putting it off forever, just because of what happened. I know you have bad memories. But there are plenty of competent young women in New York City. And Bridie has to concentrate on her schooling and get an education with girls her own age. That was the understanding when my mother left her with us.”

I nodded. “You're right. It's just that I like having her around. She's been like a daughter to me, Daniel.”

“We can ask my mother to visit some of the agencies with you when she arrives,” Daniel said. “She's had experience in selecting reliable servants.”

“I'm sure I can find a girl quite easily, Daniel,” I replied stiffly. One thing I didn't want was a servant girl selected by Daniel's mother, who'd no doubt report back to the latter all my failings as a housewife and lady of society.

When I went up to kiss Liam good-night Bridie was sitting beside his cradle singing to him in her own soft and pretty voice. He was gazing at her, enraptured, and I paused in the doorway, not wanting to spoil the scene I was witnessing. Then Liam looked up and saw me, tried to scramble to his feet, encumbered by his long night-robes, and let out a wail.

“Oh, you terrible child. You were quite happy until you saw me,” I said. “And Miss Bridie can sing you songs much better than I can.”

I laid him down again firmly, stroking his head, and remembering, as I did almost every day of my life, how I had almost lost him.

“Go on singing,” I said to Bridie. “You sing so prettily.”

“That girl on the street,” Bridie said thoughtfully. “Did you notice—she was singing ‘Away in a Manger' with the same tune we sang it to in Ireland, not the way they sing it here.”

So that's what had struck me as odd. In America they have a different melody for the Christmas carol from the one we learned in Ireland. Was it possible that the little girl was a newly arrived immigrant?

 

Three

The next morning we awoke to find the world transformed to white. Snow was still falling softly and the cobblestones had vanished beneath a pristine white blanket. I made pancakes with bacon for breakfast, Daniel's favorite, and then I dressed us all warmly for the trip uptown.

“Couldn't we just take those things over to the little girl first?” Bridie asked.

“It's Captain Sullivan's one day off. We're going on an outing today,” I said. “We're going to see the store windows, like you wanted. Aren't you excited?”

“Yes, but look how cold it is today. She'll be freezing.”

I glanced across at Daniel. “All right. We can drop off the clothes on our way and catch the trolley right there,” I said.

“The trolley? I thought we'd take the El,” Daniel said.

I shuddered. “I don't like traveling on the El ever since…”

Ever since the accident,
I said to myself. The accident when the cars had plunged down from their rails and Liam and I had narrowly escaped death in a car that remained hanging from the tracks.

“Molly, that won't happen again. And we'll take the Third Avenue line, not the Ninth.”

“I know the trolley takes longer, but I'd still rather take it. And it goes right past Macy's,” I said.

“All right. But you know it will be crowded. And cold.”

“I like to be able to breathe the fresh air, rather than be shut up in a carriage with all those unsavory smells,” I said.

“As you wish.” Daniel sighed, knowing he was beaten. He took Liam from Bridie. “Come on, son. We're going on an adventure.”

Bridie darted upstairs to get the package of clothing, then followed us out of the front door. Our footsteps crunched over snow and I held on to Daniel's arm as it was unsteady walking over hidden cobbles. The Salvation Army band was playing again as we came to Broadway. This time it was “See Amid the Winter's Snow,” in an apt description of the scene we were witnessing. Snowflakes fluttered down around them, landing on their dark blue uniforms and settling on the peaks of their caps. Bridie was already peering ahead as I took her hand to cross Broadway.

“She's there. See. In that doorway,” she called out excitedly, then broke away from me and darted through the crowd. The Salvation Army band was making such a din that I couldn't hear whether the little girl was singing or not, but she certainly looked up in surprise when Bridie dropped the package into her lap then sprinted back to us again without saying a word. I saw the child's puzzled, excited face as she began to undo the brown paper when we boarded our tram.

Macy's windows lived up to Bridie's expectations. She stared at each one, wide-eyed, her nose pressed against the glass until her breath steamed it over, hiding the scene inside. I have to confess if I hadn't experienced the shop windows in Paris earlier in the year I might have been equally impressed. There were mechanical rabbits eating carrots, figures skating on a frozen pond, an old toy maker sitting at his bench making toys. They were wonderful automatons, with the toy maker's eyes moving and his toys coming to life as he finished them.

Bridie would have stood there all day, I suspect. “Come on, my dear. We still have the toy shop to visit,” I said.

She had just torn herself away reluctantly to join us when a strange thing happened. Daniel gave a shout. A skinny youth looked up and took off at great speed with Daniel hot on his heels. It was a mercy that Liam had just started fussing in Daniel's arms and he'd handed him over to me or I don't know what he would have done. If it had been an out-and-out running race I suspect that the boy would have gotten away, but he was hampered by the crowd dawdling along the sidewalk as they examined the windows, then a trolley coming to a halt made him change direction and slow enough for Daniel to grab him.

“Got ya, my boy,” Daniel said, twisting his arm up behind his back.

“Let go of me,” the boy shouted. “I ain't done nothing.”

“If you haven't done anything, why were you running away?” Daniel demanded as the boy squirmed and fought.

“Wouldn't you run if a crazy lunatic started chasing you? Get your hands off me. I'll call the police.”

“Oh, that's a good one. I am the police.” Daniel almost looked as if he was enjoying himself. “Captain Sullivan. So I'm not only the police, I'm one of the most important policemen you're likely to meet.”

“I ain't done nothing,” the boy insisted. “Let go of me. You're hurting.”

“I saw your hand going into that lady's bag,” Daniel said.

“Go on then, search me!” the boy said belligerently. “You won't find nothing.”

“Of course I won't. I stopped you in time. One more second and you'd have slipped her wallet under your jacket and been off through the crowd with her none the wiser.”

“You can't prove that,” the boy said. “And you'd better be careful, going around and accusing people of things they didn't do. There's such a thing as wrongful arrest, you know.”

“Constable Macarthy!” Daniel boomed, and a stout man in uniform forced his way through the crowd toward them.

“A spot of trouble, Captain Sullivan, sir?”

“Do you recognize this young'un?” Daniel asked.

“Never seen him before, sir. What's he been doing?”

“Helping himself to people's wallets,” Daniel said. “No, there's no point in searching him. I spotted him in the act of lifting a purse, but I suspect he's smart enough to have tucked others into hiding places to be retrieved later—just in case he was ever caught. Is that right, young fellow?”