Patricia Skidmore

A British Home Child in Canada 2-Book Bundle


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tiptoed towards Audrey’s cot. Some of the other girls were whispering and pointing. Marjorie heard one of the girls say that she was going to tell.

      “You better not! I’ll whip you if you do!” Marjorie warned, surprising herself, but she knew she needed to stand her corner if she was going to survive in this place. She meant it. She would whip her.

      The little girl in the cot next to Marjorie whispered, “Good for you. I’ll help you. My name is Olive. I just got here today. How long have you been here?”

      “Thanks. My name is Marjorie. I just got here today too.”

      “Hush all of you, or Nurse will come back.” A voice whispered out of the darkness. Marjorie thought it sounded like one of the big girls from the kitchen. The whispering stopped, but all eyes were on Joyce as she crept across the dorm. She stopped at Audrey’s cot and carefully scooped up her sobbing sister, who quieted down immediately as her arms went around her big sister’s neck. Joyce carried her back to her own bed and they snuggled down together. Marjorie thought that it was too bad that those awful people in Newcastle had burnt Audrey’s doll. She always slept with it at night. Adults did not seem to know what was important to kids.

      Joyce was knackered, but fought away her sleepy feeling. They must not catch her with Audrey in her cot, but it was taking ages for Audrey to fall asleep. When her breathing finally became quiet, Joyce counted all the way to one hundred. Then she counted again, before she was really convinced that Audrey would stay asleep when she moved her back to her own cot.

      Moving as quietly as she could, Joyce climbed out of bed and picked her up. She prayed that Audrey would not wake up crying again. She wondered why they had to put them so far away from each other. Audrey was afraid of being alone, and even though they said she would get used to it, it didn’t seemed right.

      When Joyce settled back into her cot, her thoughts jumped to Phyllis and Jean and she pictured them in their bed. They would have a lot of room now. It would not be so crowded, but it would not be as warm and cozy either. Then her thoughts jumped to Kenny. Joyce was afraid that it would be impossible to look after him, but maybe not as difficult as it had been in Newcastle.

      As time went on, the girls learned to communicate with Kenny without talking. Their eyes met when they saw each other. Sometimes it was across the dining hall or when they passed each other walking to their day schools or when they walked down the pathway to the church. Marjorie thought that his eyes always looked a little sad. Nevertheless, before long, they began to fit into their new lives and they stopped complaining about what had happened to them — outwardly at least.

      It didn’t take long to learn that their complaints and questions would get them into trouble; it was better to keep quiet and hold on to their feelings. Their instincts, with the experience at Newcastle still frighteningly fresh in their minds, told them that it could get a lot worse. They tried to be good and not make any fuss, fearful of the possibility of being sent back to Newcastle.

      Six

      Fading Memories

      Spring had faded

       Into the summer.

       Memories were fading

       Into the past.

      Summer 1937

      Days turned into weeks, then into months, and any plans for finding a way back home slipped into the background of Marjorie’s new life. Her days had fallen into a busy routine with a rigid schedule and at times she hardly remembered how she arrived at the home. Whitley Bay was fading and so was her mum’s face, but her love for her never lessened, even when her anger towards her grew so sharp she could taste it.

      Marjorie snuggled into her cot. She was thankful that most everyone was nice to her at the home. She had quickly learned how to avoid the cranky matrons, and they were given lots of food to eat every day. She never had to worry about that at all. Memories of her mum would often come to her at mealtimes and she wished she could find a way to send some food to her. Her face used to light up with a beautiful smile when Norman and Fred brought home food or money. They would all dance around singing for joy and it would be just like a party. Maybe it would have been different if she had learned to bring home some money to her mum. Maybe then they would still be at home together. Marjorie treasured the idea of them all at home again and hung on to her wish with desperation. In her daydreams she was always helping, just like her big brothers.

      Sometimes Marjorie worked with Joyce in the kitchen. Once she slipped a few potatoes and carrots into her pocket for her mum. What a treat! Her mum would be very happy and surprised! She might see what a good helper she was and bring her back home. Marjorie had planned to put them in the post, but when the nurse asked her why she wanted a little box, she had to say that she didn’t need it anymore. They might punish her for stealing even though there were so many potatoes and carrots. Surely, they would not miss a few.

      Washing the never-ending mountain of dishes and peeling the heaps and heaps of potatoes and carrots made Marjorie’s hands ache. The best and freest place to be was down on the playing fields. She did not know how Joyce could stand working in the kitchen day after day. After the summer Marjorie would be eleven. She wondered if she would have to work all the time like Joyce, or go to the day school as she had before the summer break.

      It was not so bad here, really. Audrey’s giggles came from across the room. When they first got here, Audrey cried a lot and Joyce had to be brave and sneak Audrey into her cot every night to settle her down. One night Joyce fell asleep and when the night nurse found Audrey in Joyce’s bed, she smacked Joyce, not Audrey, with a slipper, and it was Joyce who lost her Sunday sweets. Even so, for ages, her big sister risked the night nurse catching her rather than let Audrey get a whipping for crying. Night time was easier for Audrey now that she had settled in and made some friends.

      Marjorie wiggled and punched at her pillow until it felt cozy. It was her one place to be alone. Funny, that in a room full of girls, she could still feel alone. At first the loneliness threatened to overwhelm her but now, once the light was off, the darkness surrounded her and she felt free. Thoughts of her mum snuck into her mind. She tried to quickly get them out because they always made her feel sad — and now it was not only sad but also scary because most of the time she could not remember what her mum looked like. If only she had a picture of her. If only her mum would come to visit them or even send a letter to them. She wished, oh she wished, not for so much, but for the one thing that the home would not give her, to be back with her mum.

      In the back of her mind, Marjorie believed it when the older girls at the home said that no one would be going home — not ever. But she vowed that she would never give up hope. Some of the girls had visits from adults and one girl danced and skipped down the hall holding onto her mother’s hand. She never came back. She must have gone home. Marjorie dreamed of doing the same thing. She would be so happy to see her mum that she would not even tell her how mad she was at her. She would just hug her and hug her.

      Marjorie wrestled with her cover. She had to stop thinking about her mum. She tried to go back to thinking about some of the good things at Middlemore. There was a special Saturday that popped into her mind. It was her turn to mop the floor in the girl’s dorm. She and her new best friend, Olive, were laughing and having a contest to see who could mop to the middle of the room first. She started at one side of the room and her friend at the other. That, of course, was not the special part. It was while they were racing towards the middle that Audrey pranced into the dorm.

      “Marjorie! Marjorie! Look at me!” she yelled. Audrey was dressed in a new summer frock and had a wonderful panama hat on her head. “Don’t I look smashing, Marjorie?” Audrey asked.

      Immediately Marjorie asked her where she got the clothes. Marjorie and Joyce’s job of keeping Audrey out of trouble had not lessened in the past few months. Marjorie grabbed her and told her to quickly get them off and put them back where she found them. But Audrey twirled around, her skirt swirling beautifully, and she laughed and told them that everyone gets a new outfit for summer. She told Marjorie that she could find her new outfit in the locker room and ran off to tell Joyce next. As she skipped away, they could hear her