The Haunting Hetty Feather

-And you are?

-Ida Battersea. New kitchen maid.

Don't cross Matron.

And never fraternise with the foundlings.

A well-run hospital is both my duty and my pleasure.

-If Matron was to hear about this...

-Hear about what?

-We didn't take anything from the girls.

-You know us.

-We're always innocent.

-If they get in trouble, we all do.

Any other misdemeanours today, Feather will be dealt with firmly.

Then at once...

THEY KNOCK SEVEN TIMES

..the hospital ghost appears.

Joseph Twig, the ghostly foundling boy.

Boo!

THEY LAUGH

'Every foundling had a past life, a family they never knew.

'Who was my mother? Where is she now, and who am I?

'These questions haunted me.

'But I would never stop looking for the answers.

'For all of us foundlings, there was a real past,

'but whenever I reached out to touch it, it disappeared.

'Just like a ghost.'

THUNDER CRASHES

When will it stop?

-When it passes over.

-That could be all night.

I know, I'll tell you a story.

-Oh, not again.

-Boring.

A soppy story all about your squirrel tree.

That will get us to sleep.

Why don't I tell you a scary story, then?

Like you could scare me.

I'd like to see her try.

THUNDER CRASHES

It was a dark and stormy night...

..when the lady of the house heard footsteps.

She opened the scullery door...

..and she saw her...

..the ghost of Flora, the lonely kitchen maid.

-It was her footsteps.

-Ghoulish.

Walking around in the night,

just like we hear in the tower.

THUNDER CRASHES

-You hear footsteps in the tower?

-And tapping at the walls.

Shadows on the floor?

You mean your stupid tower's haunted?

-By the ghostly foundling boy.

-Everyone knows about Joseph Twig.

That's probably where he died.

And you know what they say?

When his ghost is around,

you feel a cool breeze

and his bony fingers touching your hair.

THUNDER CRASHES, THEY SCREAM

DOOR OPENS

Sheila Ormsby.

What a surprise.

It was Hetty, Nurse.

She was scaring us with stories of Joseph Twig.

-The ghost boy who haunts the hospital.

-Huh!

Do you think I was born yesterday?

Tomorrow -

hard chores instead of embroidery.

Oh, and, um,

no more sneaking about after dark.

Otherwise, the ghostly foundling boy will come.

And he will torment you.

THUNDER ROLLS

SHE LAUGHS

Please follow me.

We are grateful for your time, Matron.

Our pleasure, Mr McCartney, Mrs McCartney.

A friend came to visit on Admissions Day

and she told us every detail.

But we wanted to see for ourselves.

As one of the wealthiest brokers in the capital, I'm almost embarrassed

not to have been involved with such a worthy cause before.

New patrons are always very welcome.

So where would you like to start? The boys in lessons?

Let's start with the young ladies. I've brought treats.

Foundling girls are this way.

We like to keep our children busy.

Hard work and education are the cornerstones of the hospital.

They brought treats.

White sheep, white sheep

On a blue hill

When the wind stops, you all stand still

SOMEONE SNORES

When the wind blows, you walk away slow

White sheep, white sheep, where do you go?

THE TEACHER SNORES

Nurse Macclesfield?

Ah! Joseph Twig, stay away from me!

-THEY LAUGH

-Twig?

Isn't he the ghost that haunts the hospital?

Ghost indeed.

-Who believes in them, eh?

-SHE LAUGHS

Are you featherbrained or something?

Me?

Get to the corner for the rest of the class.

No way.

-What did he do to deserve that?

-It suits you, Mathias.

Yeah, you should wear a dunce's hat all the time.

Quiet, you boys.

Mr and Mrs McCartney, here are our senior foundlings.

All our girls are taught to embroider.

-Such pretty work.

-Almost fine enough for Bond Street.

Thank you, my lady.

Pleasure to meet you, my lady.

Perhaps your guests would like a handkerchief?

-As a souvenir of their visit.

-May I?

With our compliments, Mrs McCartney.

What a sweet girl.

Yes, always so charming.

Thank you so much, my lady.

Oh, my.

It is the child.

Mrs McCartney, whatever is the matter?

I...I think she needs some air.

-I'll go and get Cranbourne with the smelling salts.

-Yes.

Last year, we lost our only child.

Lucy.

Our friend who visited

said the girl looked so like her, we should see for ourselves.

-And she does. So very much.

-Same hair.

Same beautiful eyes.

Dear me, what a dreadful shock.

If there would be any comfort in it, you're more then welcome to come

and see Polly.

We allow visitors to watch them dine each Sunday.

There's a small charge for entry.

That's not why we're here.

We do not wish to merely see the child.

We want to adopt her.

Oh, I'm afraid that's not possible.

There's always a chance, however slim,

that a foundling may be claimed by their real mother.

No, adoption is against hospital rules.

But we'd give her a good life.

The girl would have every extravagance. A prosperous future.

-I am quite set.

-And in return,

we are prepared to make a most generous donation.

For my wife's happiness, Matron.

You name the price.

Well...

I see, erm...

..however...

What Matron is trying to say...

Even with the donation, adoption is not possible.

Colonel Brigwell would say the same.

Well...

..perhaps, then, it's the Colonel

we need to speak to.

Shall we, my dear?

-SHE SIGHS

-Brigwell will tell them the rules.

-He is the rules.

-Indeed.

Dunce.

-He believes in ghosties.

-That's how daft he is.

-His knees would be knocking if he saw a spook.

-What?

-And yours wouldn't?

-Never.

Let's show them a real spook.

-Our very own ghostly foundling boy.

-Then well see who's scared.

-And stupid.

-Good idea.

Let's talk at the end of the lesson.

Ghosts need to look the part.

-Colonel.

-Ah, Matron.

The McCartneys have explained their situation,

and in this instance, I think we should grant their request.

You're giving permission to adopt?

The child will have a most wonderful future.

And as for the donation...

We can afford to be...

-..helpful.

-I see.

A wonderful outcome all round.

I do appreciate your fastidiousness, Matron, but adoption in this

case is for the greater good of the child...and the hospital.

Of course, Colonel Brigwell.

Cranbourne, tell them to hold the carriage.

We have much to discuss.

What was that all about?

Them toffs want to adopt someone to become a rich girl.

Whatever I did to cause such a dizzy spell, my lady,

it wasn't my intention.

Please accept my sincere apologies.

Polly has always been such a good girl.

Thank you, dear child.

But that is not the nature of this meeting.

Lemon biscuit?

You may.

Our cook used to make them for our daughter, you see.

Lucy's favourite.

We rather hope you'll like them too.

Thank you.

May I share it with my friends?

-Of course you may.

-Now...

Polly...

The McCartneys have some news.

-Polly.

-What happened?

The McCartneys, they want to adopt me.

They want to what?

-Matron.

-Your friend is leaving us.

-Forever?

Polly will depart for her new home tomorrow.

She has a privileged life ahead of her. Unlike some.

Polly, this can't be happening. BELL RINGS

Off to your lunch now.

What now?

Tell Cranbourne me and Ned volunteer to clean the writing slates.

-He knows Nurse Mac gets them done every week.

-Got it.

We'll cover, but be quick.

Ned, follow me.

You have to tell them you don't want to leave.

How can I? They're so kind.

Mrs McCartney even brought lemon biscuits for me.

She sounds lovely.

She might sound lovely today, but what about when you get to know her?

-You might hate her. She might hate you.

-Hetty!

I mean, you don't even like the biscuits they gave you.

-I didn't get the chance. Save that for us to share.

-Oh, sorry.

They said I'd have my own bedroom and a governess.

-That has to be better than being a foundling.

-What?

-Leaving to become a dead girl? I don't think so.

-Hetty.

-This isn't about you.

-No, it's about Polly.

The first friend I ever made here.

You're sweet, but this Lucy might have been like Sheila.

And besides, I'd miss you.

-Me too.

-And me.

You're the only friends I've ever known,

but there's nothing we can do.

Isn't there? Just you leave it to me.

The last kitchen maid, I caught her pinching a piecrust.

-Never?

-She didn't last long after that.

Straight back to it, Ida. Dining tables need a polish.

Let's go.

Finish up, girls.

Matron shall be checking all arithmetic this week.

And woe betide anyone who...

Polly! You haven't even started.

It's boring.

Boring? I'll give you boring, you little...

Polly's been out of sorts.

It's the McCartneys, Nurse.

Oh, those.

Well, in that case, take her outside for a breath of fresh air

and then straight back to class.

Both of you.

Um, we've finished, Nurse.

Shall I deliver this week's arithmetic to Matron?

Yes. Take Elizabeth to help.

They'll only want good girls for their daughters, that's for sure.

Aye, someone's in a rush?

Matron sent us.

We need more sugar for the visitors' tea.

Not for us, of course.

-Sweet enough.

-Help them fetch it will you, Ida?

My bunions won't cope with much more traipsing. Be quick about it.

Yes, Cook, be right with you.

New kitchen maid. This should be easy.

Right, a china bowl and some fine linen.

We're in a rush. Polly, sugar from the pantry.

You always are.

-I met you, didn't I?

-Think so.

Couldn't forget that hair.

I've not seen another foundling with hair like that.

MOUTHS: Go! Quick!

-Unique. That's me.

-Oh, isn't that nice to know?

-Hetty? That's your name, isn't it?

-That's right.

Now, leave the rest to us. You wouldn't want to be late for Cook.

Thanks, Hetty.

Phew. She can talk.

-What are you doing here?

-Could say the same for you.

-Tough.

-That's what we came for.

-No way.

This mission's a matter of pride.

Tonight we're spooking Vince and Judd.

We'll show them who's scared of ghosts.

That's not pride.

That's a prank.

For Polly, this is a matter of life and death.

-Almost literally.

-What?

She's being adopted to become a dead girl. And we have to stop it.

-We?

-I need the flour first.

Then we meet up later to scare Vince. He's always got it coming.

Good idea.

Before that, we all help Polly.

I only came back for a tray.

If you're up to no good, I'll need to tell Cook.

Didn't Cook tell you?

Foundlings aren't allowed to be left unsupervised in the kitchen.

If you snitch, you're in lumber.

Well, I never!

KNOCKS ON DOOR

-Excuse me, Matron, this week's arithmetic.

-Thank you, girls.

-Nice to meet you. I'm Sheila, by the way.

-Elizabeth.

Perhaps you'd like me to pour you some more tea?

-Um, well, there really is no need.

-That would be lovely.

If this doesn't work, you're going to have to tell them

that you don't want to leave.

You don't want to be adopted.

Looking like that, no-one would have you.

Thank you for the tea.

And remember, the name's Sheila.

-Sheila Ormsby.

-Now, girls.

We have matters to discuss.

I'm certain I wasn't meant to be a foundling.

I was destined for the finer things in life.

How are you today, my lady?

Sheila.

I would make you such a wonderful daughter.

I have no idea where she got such information.

They want to adopt someone. I heard them.

Yes, but not just anyone.

Polly, she's been taken ill.

-Come quick, Matron.

-I'll be back in a minute.

-The child.

-Polly?

I'm sure there's nothing for you to be concerned about.

-What's happened, Feather?

-One minute she was fine.

The next, she ate some biscuit and she came out in a rash,

and then she collapsed.

Please, I need the infirmary.

Just like when she got stung by a bee. All red and itchy.

I could never eat another lemon biscuit again.

-She's not right for them, Matron.

-Hm.

Foundlings, back to your classrooms.

Now!

Lemon biscuit, you say?

Yes, Matron.

Odd.

Because I smell the distinct scent of...

SHE SNIFFS

..raspberry.

Well?

Matron, she's my friend.

You can't just send her away.

I'm afraid it's all been agreed.

Polly has a future anyone would yearn for.

Come on, let's get you cleaned up.

-Polly!

-No, Matron, please!

Just as I thought.

The excitement proved all too much.

Oh, that is good news.

Well, what do you say, Polly?

We just want to love you, like real parents would.

-We'd do anything to make you happy.

-Anything at all.

-Polly.

-Well?

It's not what you think.

The McCartneys want to adopt me so I can have a good life.

-You said yes?

-It's for the best, Hetty.

And they promised I can still be your friend too.

-I can write and I can visit.

-That's wonderful.

I can even bring you gifts.

They're just trying to buy your love.

What if they are?

She'll be Polly McCartney with no hard chores any more.

I'd still be me. And once I'm on the outside, I can help you.

If you don't get a letter back from your borrowed family,

I could help.

-Help me find my mother?

-I'd be free.

I can find out things. Tell you when I visit.

I want you to be happy, Polly. That's all that matters.

-I'll still miss you.

-Me too.

Poor Hetty, losing her friend.

Couldn't have happened to a nicer girl.

BELL RINGS

Break's over, girls! Back to your dorms. Go on.

Forget the she-mob. Hang a yellow duster in the girls' dorm window.

-Signal to the boys.

-Tonight's Polly's last night.

Time to have some fun. THEY GIGGLE

Oi. Where are you going?

Ghost hunting. On the lookout for Joseph Twig.

-Come if you like.

-If you're brave enough.

-Us?

We're not stupid.

I don't believe in ghosts.

Nothing to be scared of then, is there?

A DOOR CREAKS

FOOTSTEPS

-THREE KNOCKS

-What was that?

It's him. The ghostly foundling boy.

Didn't you know? He always knocks three times before he appears.

Yeah, likely story.

-HE SCREAMS

-Joseph Twig! Run!

-Get out!

-Go!

THEY SCREAM

Now who are the dunces?

-Like we didn't already know.

-Did you see all their faces?

They fell for it.

The trick with the flour worked brilliantly.

Thanks for your help, girls.

-Polly, we'll never forget it, or you.

-They screamed so loud. Argh!

They're never going to call me a dunce again.

-This is the best last night ever.

-We'll always be friends.

Always.

Promise you'll never forget me?

Hetty Feather, how could I?

Come on.

Here she is.

-So pretty.

-All set, Polly?

A happy ending indeed.

Who knows? In a few years, Matron may have to curtsey to you.

-SHE LAUGHS WRYLY

-Best wishes, Polly.

Thank you, Matron.

Bye, Hetty.

Not bye, just see you soon.

Your carriage awaits.

Take care. I'll write soon.

-I can write to Polly, can't I, Matron?

-Oh, yes, yes.

I have the McCartneys' address right here.

Mrs McCartney, when will we come back to visit?

Dear child. This is your new life now.

Well, Feather, what are you waiting for?

Polly's address, Matron.

-May I write to her today?

-Hm.

MATRON GIGGLES

But you said. They promised her!

Do you think I'm a fool?

You can't play me, Feather.

I always win.

You lied to me.

Call it a lesson.

Learn it now, or you'll be sorry.

I am watching you.

Who's scared now, Feather?

'I'd lost my best friend and my battle with Matron went on.

'But if she ever thought she'd win, she was wrong.

'Like Polly, you can change your name,

'but you can't change the person inside.

'But until I found my mother, I didn't really know who I was inside.

'One day, I'd find the answers to all of my questions,

'and I'd find her.

'Then I wouldn't be the ghost of who I was any more. I'd be real.

'I'd be me.'

Jem's coming today, and he said, "Meet me by the gates at noon."

It looks like my brother, Jem.

Your uncle is the Earl?

Of Wellesley, yes.

Hetty's my family. If you want jam, ask your own sister.

I pray that the matter of your family inheritance

is soon resolved.

You kept your secrets from me.

Now you don't have any secrets any more.

He wants us to steal from the kitchen.

My letters from Jem.

What have you done with them?

Tell Hetty she can have it back when she brings us what we need.