The Throwaway Children (18 page)

Except love, thought Constable Chapman, but he kept his thought to himself. He could see that, however much he hated the idea, these two little girls were going to be returned to the orphanage. The stepfather refused to have them, the weak mother was unable to withstand him, and the Children’s Officer was determined that her authority to take them was assured.

‘You may kiss your mother goodbye,’ Miss Hopkins said, as if she were granting the girls a great favour, ‘and then we must go.’

Mavis gave one last despairing look at her husband, but Jimmy turned away, jogging his son up and down in his arms, and ignoring everyone else in the room. She held both girls close for a moment, kissing their wet cheeks, and then she too turned away.

Miss Hopkins pushed past the policeman and took each of them by the hand. ‘Come along,’ she said briskly, and led them, still weeping, out of the room. Rosie’s screams of ‘Mummy! Mummy! I want Mummy!’ echoed through the house as Miss Hopkins dragged her out to the street and into the waiting car.

‘An’ you can get out, an all,’ said Jimmy, swinging round and addressing Chapman. ‘You’ve interfered enough!’

Constable Chapman ignored him and looked over at Mavis who had collapsed, sobbing, back onto her chair. ‘Will you be all right, Mrs Randall?’ he asked gently.

‘Course she will,’ snapped Jimmy. ‘I’ll look after her. Now, get out of my house.’

Unable to do more, Constable Chapman left the house without saying another word. He was more affected by the events of the last hour than he could have imagined. The sound of Rosie’s cries resounded in his head, and he knew it would be a long time before he forgot the despair in her childish voice. How could a mother let her children be taken from her like that? He walked to the end of the street, and then, on hearing a door banging, he turned and looked back the way he had come. Jimmy Randall had come out of the house, slamming the door behind him, clearly heading for the pub at the end of the road.

Emily Vanstone was at Laurel House when it was discovered that the Stevens girls had gone missing.

‘I’m afraid that Rita Stevens has been a problem ever since she arrived here,’ Mrs Hawkins said. ‘Within an hour of her being here she had bitten one of the older girls who’d been asked to keep an eye on her. She’s a sullen little thing and unfortunately has palled up with Daisy Smart, another of our more difficult children.’

‘I see,’ said Miss Vanstone, ‘and how have you dealt with her?’

‘Fairly leniently at first,’ replied Mrs Hawkins, ‘after all Laurel House was new to her, but when she continued to flout the house rules, I was more severe and she was put on punishment for a whole day.’ She gave Miss Vanstone a thin smile. ‘It is usually enough to bring a child to heel, spending a day on her own, and having only bread and water.’

‘I see.’ Miss Vanstone looked thoughtful. She did not know the extent of the punishments that her superintendent used, nor did she want to. As long as the home ran smoothly she never enquired into the day to day running. Occasionally there were problems, but she could not remember the last time a child had absconded. Most of the children had nowhere to go anyway, but the Stevens girls? Perhaps the punishment day had been too severe.

‘How has the little one, Rosie, settled in?’ she asked.

Mrs Hawkins shifted a little and said casually, ‘Not as difficult as her sister. She’s a bed-wetter. Of course, she’s been reprimanded for that.’

Emily Vanstone nodded. ‘And you’re quite sure that they’re missing?’

‘Quite sure,’ insisted Mrs Hawkins. ‘They were not in the crocodile when it reached Laurel House, and no one can say for sure whether they were there at the end of school.’

‘Is there no roll call?’ asked Miss Vanstone.

‘Not before they leave school,’ admitted Mrs Hawkins, ‘but of course,’ she added with a thin smile, ‘if they walked out during school hours, that would be the school’s responsibility, wouldn’t it?’

‘Have you spoken to the headmistress?’

‘Oh, yes, as soon as I heard they weren’t home here, I rang the school. Luckily Miss Harrison was still there. She checked the registers. They’d both been there at afternoon registration. When I suggested that the class teachers should have noticed their absence, she said that the whole school was together for hymn practice, with the music teacher. Class teachers don’t sit in on that, and the children are dismissed from the hall. No one would have noticed if two of the children were missing.’

‘The other children would have,’ remarked Miss Vanstone. ‘You say Rita and Daisy Smart are friends?’

‘Yes,’ answered Mrs Hawkins, ‘unfortunately.’

‘Have you spoken to Daisy?’

‘Certainly, straight away. I asked her if she knew where Rita was, but she said she didn’t.’

‘Let’s have her in and ask again,’ said Miss Vanstone. ‘We can be almost certain that they’ve gone home, but we need to be sure.’

While the superintendent was fetching Daisy, Emily Vanstone reached for the phone and rang the Children’s Office at the town hall but was told that Miss Hopkins had already left for the day. Thoughtfully, she replaced the receiver. She had a home number for Miss Hopkins, but first she would speak to Daisy. Rita hadn’t simply run away because she’d been punished, she had taken her little sister with her. She had planned her escape carefully. Surely Daisy would have known about it.

‘Thank you, Mrs Hawkins,’ she said when the superintendent arrived back with Daisy in tow. ‘I’ll give you a call if I need you.’

Mrs Hawkins flushed. She didn’t like being dismissed like that in front of one of the children, but she turned for the door, saying as she did so, ‘I’ll be in the dining room.’

‘Please make sure that some tea is saved for Daisy,’ instructed Miss Vanstone. ‘I’ll try not to keep her too long.’

When the door shut behind Mrs Hawkins, Miss Vanstone looked at the little girl standing in front of her. ‘Come and sit down, Daisy,’ she said, pointing to a chair by the desk. Daisy edged forward and perched on the chair. She guessed why she was here, so she wasn’t surprised when Miss Vanstone said, ‘You know Rita and Rosie Stevens are missing?’

‘Yes, Miss Vanstone.’

‘Rita’s your particular friend, isn’t she?’

‘She’s in my dorm,’ Daisy replied carefully. Rita was already in trouble, but Daisy wanted to stay out of it.

‘And in your class at school.’ It was a statement, not a question.

‘Yes.’

‘We think Rita and Rosie have run away. Do you know where they might have gone?’

Daisy shrugged.

‘I expect they’ve gone home, don’t you?’

‘Don’t know, miss.’

‘The thing is, Daisy, that if they are wandering about in the town they could be in danger. Little Rosie’s only five, isn’t she? How were they going to get home, do you think?’

‘Don’t know, miss.’

‘I mean,’ continued Miss Vanstone, almost as if talking to herself, ‘they won’t have had any money, will they? Not even enough for a bus fare.’

‘Don’t know, miss.’

‘Yes, Daisy, I think you do. Rita must have planned how they were going to go…’ She let the end of the sentence hang in the air, but Daisy said nothing.

‘Did you know that Rita’s mother had just had another baby?’ Emily Vanstone tried a different tack. Daisy didn’t answer.

‘Come on, Daisy, I’m sure she told you that. You were her friend.’

Daisy nodded.

‘And because you’re her friend you don’t want to tell on her now, do you?’

Daisy shook her head and Miss Vanstone smiled. ‘So, you do know what she planned.’

‘She didn’t tell me,’ Daisy maintained, ‘but I ’spect she went home to her mum.’

‘Thank you, Daisy,’ said Miss Vanstone. ‘You can go and have your tea now.’

When the girl had left the room Emily Vanstone leaned back in her chair and considered her options. She didn’t want to report the children missing to the police, not yet. She would ring May Hopkins and send her round to see if the girls had gone home.

Indeed, thought Miss Vanstone, I’ll send her in my car and she can bring them straight back without any fuss. She reached for the telephone.

Within an hour Miss Hopkins returned to Laurel House with the two runaways, and brought them straight into Miss Vanstone’s office. Both children were clearly upset. Rita, white-faced and tear-streaked, stood mute, as Miss Hopkins described how she had found them. Rosie was still whimpering, crying for her mother.

‘Thank you, Miss Hopkins,’ said Miss Vanstone, when the Children’s Officer had finished. ‘My driver will take you home.’ She looked across at the two miserable children. ‘I’ll look after them now.’

Miss Hopkins turned towards the door, but was unable to leave the children without saying, ‘You’re very naughty girls. I’m sure you’ll be severely punished.’

Miss Vanstone waited for the door to close behind her before saying, ‘She’s right, you know. It was naughty to run away like that. Everyone’s been so worried about you.’ She looked across at Rita. ‘You shouldn’t have taken your sister out of school, Rita. It wasn’t safe to wander about in the streets like that. Thank goodness the policeman found you.’

Rita said nothing. Rosie murmured, ‘I want Mummy.’

‘Have you nothing to say for yourself, Rita?’

Rita was certain that nothing she said would make any difference, but she answered. ‘Rosie wet her bed, and they made her stand on her stool with the wet sheet over her head.’

‘I see,’ said Miss Vanstone. ‘And what about you? What were you punished for?’

‘Rosie was frightened. I just went into her dorm to sleep. We’ve always slept together. We was asleep in bed, that’s all.’ She did not tell this frightening lady about the Hawk and the beating. She wouldn’t believe her any more than the pig-faced woman had.

‘I see,’ said Miss Vanstone again. ‘Well, things are different at Laurel House, Rita. We don’t allow that sort of thing.’ She turned her attention back to Rosie. ‘You can stop that moaning, young lady,’ she said. ‘Your mother isn’t here and isn’t going to be. She has sent you here to be looked after, and this is where you’ll stay. We’ll have no more of this nonsense. No more wet beds, no more sleeping with Rita. You’re a big girl now. Laurel House is where you live, and you’d both better get used to it.’ She paused and looked at the two children standing in front of her. ‘Now, go to your dormitories and go to bed. I want to hear no more of you. Tomorrow you’ll start afresh.’

‘I’m hungry,’ whimpered Rosie.

‘You’ll be even hungrier by breakfast,’ retorted Miss Vanstone. ‘Now off you go, and I don’t want to see either of you in here again.’

When the door had closed behind them, Miss Vanstone sat back in her chair and considered what had happened. Mrs Hawkins was right, Rita Stevens could make trouble. The problem is, she thought, that they’re really living too close to their mother, and suppose the mother changed her mind too? She rang the bell and sent for Mrs Hawkins.

‘You were right about Rita being difficult,’ she agreed, ‘so we’ll have to do something about them both, and quickly, before she causes any more trouble. I think we’ll send them in the group going to Carrabunna.’ She looked up at Mrs Hawkins. ‘It’ll get them out of your hair. I’ll get the documentation sorted out. You can organize their passports. In the meantime, please watch them extremely carefully. We don’t want a repeat performance of this, it gives the home a bad name. I gather the police were involved.’

‘Just one policeman,’ Mrs Hawkins assured her. ‘He found them wandering about and took them home.’

‘Well,’ said Miss Vanstone, ‘if anyone from the police does come round, please ensure you refer him to me.’

‘Yes, indeed, Miss Vanstone.’ The superintendent was relieved. She had no wish to be interviewed by the police about any punishment that she had meted out to Rita. ‘I’ll get on to their passports straight away.’

Lily Sharples sat on a chair in the hospital dayroom, waiting to go home. The plaster was off her leg, her hair was beginning to cover the puckered scar on her head, and the recurring headaches came less often.

‘I can’t wait to get home,’ she told Nurse Marsh. ‘Nothing like being in your own home, is there?’

‘No,’ the nurse agreed, ‘but is there anyone there to help you?’

‘Not living in, no,’ said Lily, ‘but my daughter’ll come over every day to see I’m all right.’ She gave the nurse a conspiratorial smile. ‘I told the almoner she’d be there, so you don’t have to worry.’

‘So, really, you’re going to be on your own,’ Nurse Marsh said sternly.

‘Well, some of the time,’ admitted Lily.

‘Will you be able to cope? Your plaster is off, but you’re still on crutches.’

‘I’ll be fine,’ asserted Lily. ‘My neighbour’s been in and put my bed down in the front room, so I don’t have to do stairs yet, and when my granddaughters move back in they can be my legs, can’t they?’

‘Your granddaughters?’

‘Yes, Rita and Rosie. They live with me, you see.’

‘Do they now?’ Nurse Marsh was pretty sure Lily hadn’t mentioned granddaughters to the almoner either.

‘And my daughter’s had a baby since I come in here,’ Lily said. ‘I haven’t seen him yet. She didn’t want to bring him into the hospital in case of infection.’

That’s what Anne Baillie had told her when she’d visited and told her she had a grandson. It was Anne who had been her most regular visitor. Carrie had come in once and told her that she had been looking after the girls until Mavis got back from her honeymoon, but she didn’t come again. Anne came often, and it was Fred and their son, Martin, who’d moved her bed downstairs. It was Fred, she knew, who had come to her aid after the accident, and today he was coming in his van to collect her and take her back home.

‘You’ve both been very good to me,’ Lily had said, touched at their thoughtfulness.

‘Don’t be silly,’ Anne had chided gently. ‘What else are neighbours for?’

‘Well,’ said Nurse Marsh, looking at the determined woman sitting in the chair waiting, ‘don’t you overdo it, Mrs Sharples, or you’ll find yourself back in here.’

‘I won’t,’ promised Lily. ‘I’ll take it steady, and get back to normal gradually.’

Fred arrived then, peering in through the door of the dayroom.