The Throwaway Children (16 page)

We’re not staying in this place a day longer than we have to, she thought, I have to get us out and home again.

Saturday afternoon was the only time in the week when the inmates of Laurel House had any time to themselves. She could hear them now, their voices and laughter drifting up on the summer air as they played hopscotch in the yard, or took turns with the skipping rope. She imagined Daisy hurrying across the Patch through the orchard and into her secret den.

Could they escape from the garden next Saturday if Mum hadn’t come for them by then? wondered Rita. Perhaps they could climb over the wall behind Daisy’s den. No, that was hopeless. She might manage it, but Rosie couldn’t. And it wasn’t just getting out of Laurel House that was the problem; even if they managed that, how would they get home? She didn’t know where home was from here. She knew that the number 37 bus went in the right direction, but she had no money for fares and she knew Rosie could never walk that far. Her mind churned with ideas as she sat alone on her stool, but she came no nearer a solution.

The door to the landing stood open, and once the Dragon had looked in, saying nothing, simply nodding, and once, more alarmingly, the Hawk had stood silently at the door for a full minute before going up to her room. Rita had simply stared at the floor until she heard the Hawk’s footsteps on the stairs and then the closing of a door. For the moment she was safe from the Hawk. She wasn’t the only one who realized that. A few minutes later Betty crept into the room. In her hand she had an apple.

‘Here.’ She held it out.

Rita looked first at the apple and then at Betty. Then with a swift movement she snatched it, sank her teeth into it and began to munch.

‘You’ll have to eat the core too,’ Betty told her. ‘There’s nowhere to hide it, and if they find it, we’re both for the high jump.’ Rita nodded and continued to munch.

‘Don’t keep nothing special in your locker, neither,’ Betty advised. ‘They always search your lockers when you’re at school. And you’d be better not to keep that picture in your pillowcase,’ she added. ‘If they find that, it’s gone.’

So Betty had found the picture of Daddy after all. ‘It’s my daddy,’ Rita said, ‘but I’ve nowhere else to put him.’

‘Carry him with you,’ Betty advised. ‘Keep him in your clothes, or in your desk at school. They don’t search that if you keep it tidy.’ She was silent for a moment and then said, ‘If you’ve got a dad, why’re you in here?’

‘He’s dead,’ Rita said flatly. ‘He was killed in the war.’

‘Mine too,’ said Betty. ‘Went to the war and never come back. Me mum died in an air raid. When me dad didn’t come home, me auntie stuck me in here.’ She looked across at Rita and then said, ‘You got a mum?’

Rita thought about Mum… Mum and Uncle Jimmy. She nodded. ‘Yes, I got a mum, but she’s having a baby. We’ll be going home, me an’ Rosie, when she come out of the hospital.’

‘Lucky you… if you do,’ Betty said, turning away. ‘I got to go.’ She had only taken a couple of steps along the landing when she heard footsteps and the Dragon emerged from the staircase.

‘Betty, what are you doing up here?’ Rita heard her demand. With her mouth still crammed full, Rita pushed the remains of her apple up under her skirt, as Betty replied, ‘Just brought up the laundry for Mrs Hawkins, Matron. Going back down now.’

‘Well, hurry up, I’m sure Mrs Smith has something for you to do in the kitchen.’ Without waiting for a reply she pushed open the door to Purple Dorm and looked in on Rita, who sat, rigid, on her stool, her mouth full of apple, but her jaws unmoving. The Dragon stood there for a long moment and then went out again without a word. Rita, sagging with relief, swallowed her mouthful, and taking the rest of the apple out from under her skirt, ate it quickly, core and all.

It was five o’clock before the Hawk came into the room and said, ‘Are you sorry for your behaviour now, Rita?’

Rita kept her eyes lowered; she was afraid. Afraid of this terrifying woman who stood over her now, her eyes cold and dark and malevolent, so she murmured, ‘Yes, Mrs Hawkins.’

‘I’m glad to hear it. Now go down to the dining room and join your table for tea. And let me have no more trouble from you, do you hear?’

Rita took her place beside Daisy in the dining room. Saturday tea was the only meal at which they were allowed to talk, and when grace had been said there was an immediate buzz of conversation.

‘You have to go up to see the Hawk?’ asked Daisy as she reached for the bread and marge and made herself a thick sandwich to dip into her soup.

‘Yeah,’ Rita answered briefly as she did the same. She was very hungry. Apart from the bread and the apple Betty had brought her, she had had nothing to eat since the corned beef hash the night before.

‘What she do?’

‘Ticked me off and put me on punishment,’ replied Rita, not meeting her eye. Nothing would induce her to tell anyone, not even Daisy, exactly what had happened in the half hour she had been in the Hawk’s room.

Daisy eyed her for a moment and then nodded, accepting what she said, but clearly not believing it.

‘Got an egg for you in the playroom,’ she said.

‘An egg?’ Rita looked startled.

‘Yeah, from breakfast. They’re always hard-boiled, so I put yours up me knickers and brought it out.’ She laughed at Rita’s disgusted expression. ‘It’s still in its shell, silly,’ she said. ‘I’ll eat it if you don’t want it!’

‘No,’ Rita said hastily, ‘I’ll have it. Thanks, Dais.’

Daisy grinned at her. ‘’S all right.’

Rita didn’t tell Daisy she was planning to escape. She liked Daisy, and was grateful for her kindnesses, but Rita had learned a hard lesson in the past few weeks. Trust no one. Everyone she’d ever trusted had let her down in one way or another, and today, during the long afternoon spent sitting on her dormitory stool, she had realized that the only person she could trust was herself. Only Rita was going to look after Rita.

She lay in bed that night trying to think of a way out. She’d talked to Rosie in the playroom soon after tea. ‘You all right, Rosie?’ she asked.

‘Where you been, Reet?’ Rosie asked tearfully. ‘I couldn’t find you.’

‘Busy,’ Rita said. ‘Look, Rosie, you got to try not to wet your bed, OK? Dragon’ll get cross if you do it again. If you need to do a wee in the night, you have to go to the bathroom.’

‘I had to wash my sheet,’ Rosie told her. ‘I had to put it in the bath. A nice lady called Betty helped me.’

‘Well, don’t do it again, Rosie, just go to the bathroom, all right?’

‘It’s dark,’ whined Rosie. ‘I don’t like the dark.’ She looked up at Rita. ‘Are you coming in with me tonight, Reet?’

‘No,’ Rita told her firmly. ‘I ain’t. You got to learn to sleep on your own, Rosie.’ She softened as she saw the tears begin to well up again in her sister’s eyes. ‘I can’t come, Rosie,’ she said. ‘They won’t let me.’

‘I don’t like them,’ said Rosie miserably.

‘No, nor do I,’ agreed Rita.

‘’Cept Betty,’ said Rosie. ‘She’s nice.’

Why was Betty helping them? Rita wondered as she lay awake in bed watching the light from the street lamp play on the dormitory ceiling. She had brought Rita some bread and an apple, and she’d helped Rosie with her wet sheet. Why? Was it really simply because Rita had bitten Sheila? Was it revenge for the way she had been treated over the years? Rita wasn’t sure; all she knew was that she didn’t trust Wetty Betty any more than anyone else.

Sunday followed its usual routine, and as the croc wound its way through the streets to the church, Rita wondered if there was any way they could slip away coming back. She could see Rosie further forward in the croc, holding hands with another of the Green Dorm babies, but there was no way she could get to her.

If it was just me, Rita thought as they crossed a side road and passed the open gate of a park, I could nip in there and hide.

She looked at the bushes behind the fence that created the boundary with the road. She might be able to hide there until the rest of them had gone past and then find her way home, but she couldn’t leave Rosie.

Outside the church two of the seniors came round handing each girl her threepenny bit for the collection, and it was as Rita put the coin in her pocket that the idea came to her. At first she dismissed it as impossible, but as the service progressed on its dull and boring way, she kept coming back to it. As usual, Miss Vanstone had come striding into church. Rita looked at her stern face as she took her place in the front pew and wondered if she knew that the Hawk beat the girls with a belt. If she did, Rita thought, she probably didn’t care. Nobody cared.

It was this thought that finally made her decide to take the risk. The risk of stealing from the church. She glanced along the row to where Ole Smithy stood, singing away, head held high, eyes raised to heaven. The Hawk was at the end of the row in front, so it was really only the Dragon who might see. Rita stole a quick look at the matron who was standing at the end of the pew behind. She, too, was singing, but her eyes were directed at the girls in the pew across the aisle. There were only a couple of minutes to decide, as the collection bag drew nearer; and Rita decided. She would not put her threepence in, she would keep it towards the bus fare home and…

Rita kept her coin in one clenched fist, and when the bag reached her, she put the other hand in, as if dropping in her own offering. Pinching her fingers round an earlier coin, she managed to extract it in her closed fist as she passed the bag on. She now had sixpence towards their fares and she kept the two coins clenched in her hand as they walked home.

‘What you going to do with that money?’ asked Daisy casually. ‘I saw you take it out the bag.’

Rita rounded on her. ‘I never! I didn’t take nothing.’

‘You did too,’ retorted Daisy. ‘You’ll be in dead trouble if you’re caught, but what d’you want it for?’

‘I never took nothing,’ Rita maintained, stoutly.

Daisy shrugged. ‘OK,’ she said. ‘Suit yourself. I won’t tell no one, anyway. Only where you going to hide it?’

It was indeed a problem. She decided her satchel would be as safe as anywhere. If anyone found the money there, she could say it had always been there, that her mother had made her carry sixpence as emergency money.

After all, she thought, I’ve only got to hide it till tomorrow. As the minister had intoned the final prayers, Rita made another decision. Now she had some money for the bus, she would take Rosie home tomorrow.

When they reached Laurel House Rita went to the lavatory beside the downstairs cloakroom. She hurried to where her satchel was hanging on her peg, and, after a quick glance round to see that she was unobserved, slipped the two coins under the flap. Moments later she was in the playroom, lining up for lunch with the others.

When the bell went for afternoon play the next day, Rita hurried out into the playground to find Rosie. Passing the cloakroom, she unhitched her satchel from its peg and took it with her. Rosie was already outside, playing with her friend Milly.

‘We got to go now, Rosie,’ Rita said, taking her hand.

‘Where are we going, Reet?’ Rosie asked.

‘You’ll see. Come on.’

‘Can Milly come, too?’

‘No, she can’t,’ snapped Rita. ‘Come on!’ Rita was anxious to slip away as quickly as possible, so that they would be well clear of school before their absence was noticed. She had decided on afternoon playtime for their escape. Afternoon register had already been taken, and after break it was hymn practice for the whole school, so they might not be missed immediately.

Reluctantly Rosie allowed herself to be detached from Milly and led away behind the toilet block.

‘We’re going to go home now, Rosie,’ Rita said. ‘But we got to go quickly and you got to do what I say, OK?’

‘Aren’t we going home with everyone else?’ asked Rosie, bewildered.

‘Not home to Laurel House, silly,’ Rita replied. ‘We’re going home to Ship Street. We’re going home to see Mum and baby Richard. Now, come on.’

She took Rosie’s hand again and they edged their way towards the gateway and the street beyond. As they reached the open gate, the whistle went for the end of break. ‘Come
on
, Rosie.’ Rita dragged her little sister out of the gate, and turning right, hurried along the pavement, round the corner out of sight. The only person who saw them go was Daisy. She stared after them, feeling suddenly lonely. Rita had disappeared, taking her sister with her. All of a sudden, Daisy wished that she had a sister. Someone of her very own.

She stood irresolute in the playground as the rest of the school filed back inside. Should she tell? Now was the time to do it if she was going to. It won’t do me no good, she thought. And when Rita came back, as Daisy was certain she would, she’d have lost her only real friend.

‘Hurry up, Daisy,’ called Miss Harrison. ‘Time for hymn practice.’

‘Coming, miss.’ Daisy turned and went inside. Reet’ll be back soon enough, she thought. No one gets away from Laurel House, and when she’s back, I’ll still be there.

Once they were safely out of sight, Rita slowed her pace a little. Rosie was already dragging on her hand.

‘Where’re we going, Reet?’ whined Rosie. ‘Don’t go so fast.’

‘Told you, we’re going home. We’re going to find Mum.’

‘Will Uncle Jimmy be there?’ asked Rosie, coming to a complete stop.

Rita shrugged. ‘Don’t know,’ she admitted. ‘Maybe. Baby Richard will be.’

‘Is he our brother?’ asked Rosie.

‘Yes, you know he is. Look,’ Rita cried, setting off again and pulling Rosie along behind her, ‘there’s a 37. That’s our bus, come on.’ She hurried them along to the bus stop, and they both climbed aboard just before the bus moved on. When the conductor came down from the top deck, Rita had her money out, ready.

‘Two threepenny halves, please,’ she said and handed over the coins.

The conductor punched the tickets and moved on down the bus. Rita looked out of the window, hoping to see something she recognized, but the streets all looked the same. Some were tree-lined. There weren’t many trees in the streets near Ship Street, so she knew they weren’t near home yet. Each time the bus stopped she peered out of the window, hoping to recognize a street name. She felt a rising panic welling up inside her. How was she going to know where they should get off? She thought back to where they had got on the bus with the pig-faced woman; in the centre of the town, near the town hall. She wasn’t sure she could find her way home from there, but at least she would be quite near and she could ask someone.