Authors: D. G Torrens
I
took a bath, got
dressed, and then made my way to the nursery area to see Jenny
and Susie, who were having their
hair brushed by a member of the nursery staff. They were smiling and seemed undet
erred by their new surroundings.
I
,
on the
other
hand
,
was much older and very aware why
we were there,
but for how long I had no idea. I waited with Susie and Jenny until they were ready to go down to the dining hall for breakfast as I did not want to go down alone.
On entering the large oak doors to the dining hall, I was greeted with a large room full of small tables, which seated up to five children. Nearly all the tables were full except one reserved for us. I had never been so nervous; there were children of all differ
ent ages and race ranging from three to fifteen
years old. I remember thinking to myself
,
Why are all these children here? Where are their parents?
There w
ere
so many more h
ere than the last time I stayed.
The room was full of chatter and laughter and a few children started to ask my name. I did not recognize any children from my previous visit; I imagine they had all moved on to other homes, foster parents
,
or even back home in some cases. Some of the childre
n were very curious at our late-
night arrival the evening before; I just smiled at them and came over all shy. However, I
was starting to
sens
e
a friendlier atmosphere
,
which was a welcome surprise
.
I
wa
s feeling a little less nervous now.
I sat down to breakfast
and
had cornflakes with tea and toast.
A young girl called Leanne Tabbot took it upon herself to befriend me and sho
w me the ropes! I liked her; she
was a tomboy
,
but as strange as it may sound, I could not help but notice she had very big breasts for someone so young. In
fact, she looked liked a boy with boobs! Leanne was funny and well known for running away on a regular basis.
There was another girl,
Sonia Story
, who was
very skinny
and very shy.
Jake and
Sonia became very close friends;
she was known for telling lies
,
and when she wasn’t telling lies, she could be found telling tales! These are the two girls I remember the most as we shared a dormitory, but most of all we shared what few clothes we had and even our troubles and thoughts. As children do, we all fell out on a regular basis
,
but we soon made up again, all smiles, and plotting how we would get into the pantry to sneak a packet of crisps once the kitchen was closed for the day!
Breeton House was not as bad as children
’s homes go.
W
e had three meals a day,
we
were washed and clothed
, and
activities
were
arranged for us at
weekends to keep us entertained.
The staff were quite pleasant and
they did what they could to make Breeton feel more like a home rather than a state residence. They worked on a shift basis and we each had our
favour
ites
,
of course!
Schooling was outside of the grounds
,
unlike many homes where the schooling took place within the perimeters of the compound. I was again placed at Mount Pleasant School for Girls the other side of Shrewsbury
Town.
I used to walk to school under the supervision of a member
of staff (in case I ran away!)
My escort would deliver me to the gates and pick me up at the gates.
Mount Pleasant School for Girls was a decent school by all accounts; I did well and developed my
English enormously while there.
H
owever
,
I was the only pupil
in my school who
came from a children’s home and they all knew it. This was not pleasant as I felt like an outcast surrounded
by perfectly turned-out girls.
T
hey looked
immaculate from my standpoint;
they were dropped off by
their
parents and greeted by them at the end of
the school day
. I was not
,
and that hurt a lot, making me feel like I did not belong. I tried very hard but started feeling rebellious
,
as not knowing where your true home is can be quite bad enough without being surrounded by children
with what I classed as picture-
perfect lives. I wanted to be noticed and for someone to care
about me, and
w
hat every child is entitled to,
a normal family.
Jake was enrolled into A
. Fleming School for Boys. H
e liked his new school and was happy there. Our lives had become all about routine, something we were not accustomed to at all, but welcomed with ease. We had to be up at 7
:00 a.m.
for
breakfast at 7
:
30
a.m.
, lunch wou
ld be 12.30 p.m., and dinner was at 5:00 p.m.
E
very single day the routine never
changed; they had two cooks who
were employed to come in and prepare the meals each day, but the clearing of the tables and the washing up after we had all eaten was done by the children.
Oh my goodness
,
I remember so well the endless piles of plates that would be s
tacked high, ready to be washed.
E
ach child was put on a rota and
we all took turns two at a time—
one child would wash up and another would dry and put away! I hated it, as this parti
cular chore seemed never ending.
However
,
we all had to take our turn.
Breeton House w
as a huge Victorian construction.
F
rom the outside it looked most impressive, and the entrance bo
a
sted a large wooden oak door with a giant black iron knocker on the front. I remember staring up at it in
wonder the first time I saw it;
I had asked myself what could be waiting for me on the other side. As the large door creaked open
, I found myself standing in the atrium of sorts.
T
here was a large curve
d staircase leading off one way, and
there were double doors leading to the enormous living area. I looked to my right and there was a smaller single door leading to the sparse ga
mes room and library. The room had a
very old pool table and lots of donated books
,
of which I read many
.
I spent a lot of time curled up in a corner reading the many books and on one such occasion,
I
came across a biography about the life of Marilyn Monroe (aka Norma Jean). It was all in black and white with beautiful pictures of this sad woman I had never heard of. I read the book from cover to cover and was fascinated with
Marilyn
because she had spent her childhood in foster homes and had a bad childhood herself. I developed the utmost respect for her, wondering how sh
e had done so well for herself. She had nothing, yet the whole world knew her name,
and
this to me was truly inspiring.
From that day forth I made a promise to myself that I too would not become a statistic, that I would make something of myself no matte
r what.
I just had to get through my childhood
,
and then my destiny would be in my own hands
,
no one else’s. My goals were set
.
I never told anyone
.
I kept them to myself
, as
I did not want to hear that I would amo
unt to nothing.
I had heard that all my life.
I carried on reading my way through more biographies and I would lose myself in Enid Blyton's adventures! I fe
ll in love with reading and I
read
just about anything available,
The Diary of Anne Frank
and so on. This was to be my savio
u
r for many hard years that followed.
My existence was a futile one at times
. I questioned life a lot, and
I questioned the finali
ty and peace of death even more.
No child should go through their
childhood with such th
oughts.
However
,
sadly many do and this will always be so. I questioned
God so much. I believed in H
im, but at the same time I wonde
red how a God could stand b
y and do nothing when there was so muc
h sadness and pain in the world.
I was
ten
years old and just could not make sense of it at all.
During my second time at Breeton House
,
I found it easier to settle
in
as I had all my siblings with me, which was enough security for
all of us for the time being. T
he thought of us being separated just did not
bear
thinking about. Unfortunately, we were about to learn that our fate would soon be just that.
Jenny and Susie were in the nurser
y
one day; they had been dressed in pretty clothes
like they were going somewhere.
I asked Gill, a female member of staff
,
“
A
re
Jenny and Susie going somewhere today
?
”
Gill replied
,
“No
,
Amelia
,
they just have some visitors today
,
a very nice
lady and gentleman.”
My heart sank
,
as I knew instantly that the translation of this meant
that
they were going to be fostered. All the young children in Breeton House
were never there for very long;
they were often giv
en long-term foster parents.
W
e had seen a few of the children leave Breeton House this way. I always found it hard saying goodbye to children we had become fond of and close to, knowing that once they were gone, we would never see them again. I could not believe we h
ad not been prepared for this. A
fter all
,
Jake and I were their siblings, we were family; did they think we would not notice?
Of course we noticed, we were not blind; however, we were children and our opinions and thoughts did not count for much during these harsh times.
Later that morning I waited in the large atrium and sat o
n an old reproduction monk seat;
I
wanted to see what was going on. I had also rallied Jake.
W
e were so scared because we knew once we were separated we would never see each other again. This was a
very
frequent occurrence within the care
system for siblings;
they would often be split up from one another and that would be that.
The large oak doors opened.
I was craning my neck to get a good view of the prospective foster parents
;
they seemed nice enough, quite normal really and all smiles. They were shown into the nursery where Jenny and Susie
were playing together happily,
where they remained for at least an hour. Once they had emerged from the nursery, I noticed the big smiles and
handshakes with the H
ead of Breeton House, Gary. He showed them out of the door
and made his way to the office.
Right away, Jake and I ran over to him.
“Gary
,
please tell us what is going on
.
A
re they going to take Jenny and Susie home?” I asked
.
“Amelia
,
please come in and sit down, you too
,
Jake
,
”
u
rged Gary. He proceeded to tell us that Mr
.
and Mrs
.
Bolton were soon to be Jenny and Susie’s new foster parents.