The Throwaway Children (40 page)

‘Promise?’

‘I said, promise.’

‘OK, only you was crying last night, and I weren’t the only one what noticed.’

‘I just got to sort something out, Dais, that’s all. I’ll tell you all about it soon, honest.’

Mrs Watson handed Rita some sheets of notepaper when she got back from school. ‘When you’ve written it, I’ll find you an envelope.’

Rita slipped the notepaper into her school bag, and when she had finished her homework that evening, she pulled it out, and began to write.

Once she’d started the words flooded from her pencil, and before she knew it she’d covered three sheets of paper, pouring out to Gran exactly what had happened to them both. As she wrote about Rosie, she felt the tears welling up in her eyes, and she forced them back. One day she would find Rosie again, and that was a promise she made to Gran in the letter.

Delia Watson looked at the letter Rita handed to her and knew at once that she couldn’t send it as it was. It would have to be censored. She read it through again and looked up at Rita. ‘What a lot you’ve written,’ she said lightly. ‘Now, here’s the envelope. You address it to your gran, then I’ll post it tomorrow. It’ll need lots of stamps for England.’

Rita looked anxious. ‘But I ain’t got no stamp money.’

‘Never mind,’ Mrs Watson reassured her, ‘I’ll buy them for you. Write the address, and we’ll get your letter on its way.’

Rita wrote the address in Hampton Road carefully on the envelope, adding ENGLAND, when prompted by Mrs Watson. Then she put the letter into it, licked it up and handed it to her house-mother. ‘You promise you’ll post it?’ she said, her eyes fixed on Mrs Watson’s face.

‘I promise I will.’ Rita gave a quick glance at Mrs Watson’s hands, but her fingers weren’t crossed, and Rita felt reassured.

Later that evening, Mrs Watson took out the letter Rita had written and carefully unsealing it, read it through again.
Dear Gran
,
she read…

I got your letter the other day. Thank you for writing to me to tell me you are better. I am glad you ain’t in horspidal no more and your leg has got better. Rosie and I ain’t with a family like you said, nobody’s took us but we ain’t at Laurel House neither. We tried to come home to Mum and to see baby Richard, but the horrid lady from the children’s office took us back to Laurel House. Soon after that we was told we was going to Australia. We wasn’t allowed to tell Mum we was going, but I think she knew anyway. It was cos Uncle Jimmy wanted to get rid of us.

We come here by ship and it took more than six weeks. The ship was lovely and we had a good time on board. The food was lovely. Lots of times the weather was very hot. We learned to swim in the pool on the ship.

We saw lots of places on the way, but we wasn’t aloud get off the ship. When we got to Australia some people got off before we did at Perf and Adalayed but we was going to Sidney. When we landed we come to this home. It is in a little town a long way away called Carrabunna.

When we got here we was put into cottages. Rosie was in a diffrent one to me. My cottage mother was called Mrs Garfield. Two days after we got here, we was all called together and had to put on our best clothes. We ain’t got many, but Rosie wore the dress you made, but mine was too small. It made us both cry when we thought of you back at home and us so far away. Then a man and a lady come and looked at us all. We had to stand still and strate and then turn round. They walked along the line looking at us all, then they said to Mrs Manton they’d have this one, and the man put his hand on Rosie. Then they took her away. She didn’t want to go with them, and she started screaming. I ran over to hold on to her, but they pushed me away. Then we was all told to go back to the cottages. Rosie went on screaming, and they dragged her away. I waited by the gate to say goodbye but Rosie was put in a car and I couldnt. Mrs Garfield shut me in the cellar all night. When I came out I went in a diffrent cottage called Larch.

I ain’t seen Rosie no more. She has gone to live with them people, and I dunno where she is. It is very lonely here without her and I hate it, but when I get out of here, I’ll go and find her again.

We all go to school here and I am here with some of the girls who came from Laurel House. It was cold when we arrived, because it was winter here, not like England. Spring has come now and it is a bit warmer.

I don’t like it here and wish I could come home. I wish Rosie was here too.

Please write to me again soon.

Lots of love from Rita xx

Mrs Watson opened a bottle of Indian ink and working through the letter, blacked out the most damning parts. One page she removed entirely, and when she was satisfied, she slipped it back into its envelope, using some clear glue to reseal it. Next morning she walked to the post office, bought the necessary stamps, and dropped the letter into the box. She had kept her promise. Rita’s letter had been sent.

Lily was having her second cup of tea when the letter plopped through her letter box. It lay on the mat, face down. Stooping stiffly, Lily picked it up and looked at it. It was from abroad, as far as she could tell without her spectacles. The stamps didn’t look English, though they had the king’s head on them. Puzzled she carried it back into the kitchen and put on her glasses. The king was on the stamps, but underneath was the word AUSTRALIA. Lily stared at it. Who could be writing to her from Australia? Then she looked at the handwriting. For a moment she felt light-headed, and she sat down hard on a chair. In a childish hand, but carefully written, the letter was addressed to Mrs Lily Sharples, here in Hampton Road, and the handwriting was Rita’s. Lily recognized it at once. Rita’s writing. But Rita wasn’t in Australia; she and Rosie had been adopted by a couple here in England, a couple from ‘up north’. How could Rita be writing to her from Australia?

With a shaking hand, Lily ripped the envelope open, and confirmed that it was signed, ‘
Lots of love from Rita
’.
She turned back to the beginning and began to read.

Dear Gran,

I got your letter the other day. Thank you for writing to me to tell me you are better. I am glad you ain’t in horspidal no more and your leg has got better.

Then there were a few lines crossed out so darkly that Lily couldn’t make out anything. Then Rita’s handwriting again.

We come here by ship and it took more than six weeks. The ship was lovely and we had a good time on board. The food was lovely. Lots of times the weather was very hot. We learned to swim in the pool on the ship.

We saw lots of places on the way, but we wasn’t aloud get off the ship.

Another line blacked out.

When we landed we come to this home.

More scratching out. Lily began to be angry. Rita had written to her to tell her where she was, and what was happening to her, but someone must have read the letter after it had been written and censored it.

Just like in the war, thought Lily. Why would they do that? How dare they? What harm was it to write a letter to your grandmother?

She went on with the letter, but it was soon apparent that a whole page was missing. The last page began in the middle of a sentence,

to school here and I am here with some of the girls who came from Laurel House. It was cold when we arrived, because it was winter here, not like England. Spring has come now and it is a bit warmer.

There were several more lines crossed out and then just one line at the end.

Lots of love from Rita xx

Lily read and re-read the letter, her consternation growing by the minute. It was clear that Rita had received her letter, but it had followed her to Australia. Miss Vanstone had said that the two girls had been adopted together. Had their adoptive parents decided to move to Australia? Were they still together? Rita hadn’t mentioned Rosie once. Why not? What had happened to her? Had she written about her on the page that was missing? Lily looked at the letter again. There was no return address and no date. How long ago had it been written? She picked up the envelope and studied the postmark, but it was smudged, most of it was unintelligible, the only part she could make out was NSW. What or where was NSW? Lily didn’t know. Her grasp of geography was hazy, but she was determined to find out. She’d go to the library and look it up in an atlas. The postmark was a definite clue and one that couldn’t be censored by someone the other end before the letter was sent. Switching on the table lamp, Lily held the paper to the light, trying to see if she could make out any of the censored part of the letter, but it was impossible. Whoever had read Rita’s letter had been determined to obliterate whatever it was that she’d written and had used Indian ink.

If they were going to black so much of it out, Lily wondered, why did they send it at all?

All the way through Rita had written ‘we’ but hadn’t mentioned Rosie. Surely Rosie must have gone with her. But then, Lily thought, Rita also said that there were other girls from Laurel House, so perhaps she meant them when she said ‘we’.

And if she’s with a load of girls from Laurel House, and living in this home wherever it is, thought Lily suddenly, then she ain’t been adopted. She’s just been sent out there to another home. Just been got rid of ’cos she caused trouble.

Lily felt the anger rising up inside her, a fireball of fury, as she realized that she’d been duped and lied to… that they’d all been duped and lied to. Surely even Mavis wouldn’t have given her permission for her children to be sent to the other side of the world. Lily got to her feet, gripping the table as she fought for her balance. She felt giddy with rage, her little girls, Rita and Rosie, aged nine and five, had been posted off to Australia without so much as a by-your-leave from the family. Surely Mavis didn’t know. Did Jimmy Randall know? Had he arranged it all? What about that fat pig of a woman, that Children’s Officer? Did she know where they were going when she took them back to Laurel House?

Calm down, Lily told herself, calm down. This is getting you nowhere. She forced herself to sit down again and think rationally. ‘Think it all through,’ she said aloud, ‘then you can decide what you’re going to do about it.’

She squeezed another cup of tea from the pot and considered what to do. Were there any clues in the letter that she’d missed? She picked it up and read it yet again. All the points she’d already noticed came into sharp focus. No mention of Rosie. ‘We.’ Who’s we? ‘We come to this home’, no mention of a family, or adoptive parents, so adoption was unlikely. NSW. She thought about the postmark. What did NSW mean? Carrie’s John worked for the post office, he might know.

Lily found a pencil and paper and began making a list, a plan of campaign to find her missing granddaughters.

1.
  
Talk to John about postmark.

2.
  
Make sure of all the facts.

3.
  
Go to Laurel House and demand explanation.

4.
  
Go and see the Children’s Officer woman.

5.
  
Write to the Children’s Committee?

6.
  
Find out whether Mavis knows.

7.
  
Tell her if not.

Lily looked at her list. It was a start. She got to her feet again and went slowly back upstairs to get dressed. It was Saturday, so she’d probably find John and Carrie at home. She got washed and dressed, her mind churning with the possibilities, and then, all of a sudden, she began to weep. Slumping down on her bed, she clutched her pillow to her and began to sob, her whole body shaking with grief and despair. Little girls, such little girls. How could anyone send children that age to the other side of the world? How could anyone be so cruel?

Lily looked at the picture John had taken of the girls at the wedding, beaming at the camera, and the ache in her heart was a physical pain. Australia. No one ever came back from Australia. She would never see them again. Lily wept for a long time, great sobs racking her body.

Later, much later, when her tears had run dry, and with stiffened resolve, she finished dressing. Pull yerself together, woman, she told herself firmly. Crying ain’t going to help no one. With new determination, she put on her coat, and walked round to Ship Street, not to see Mavis but to visit the Maunders.

Carrie was surprised to see her, but she said, ‘You looking for Mavis?’

‘No,’ replied Lily, ‘it’s your John I want a word with. Is he in?’

‘No, John’s at the Lion for his pint,’ Carrie replied, putting the kettle on the stove. ‘But I ’spect he’ll be back soon if you want to wait.’

When John came home, he found Lily and Carrie in the kitchen.

‘I’ve come to pick your brains,’ Lily said, ‘if you don’t mind.’

‘Pick away,’ said John. ‘How can I help?’

‘I’ve had a letter.’ Lily showed him the envelope. ‘I can’t read the postmark, and I wondered if you could tell me where it come from.’

John took the envelope and studied it. ‘It’s from Australia,’ he said at length. ‘Some place in New South Wales.’

‘New South Wales!’ echoed Lily. ‘So that’s somewhere in Australia?’

‘It’s a big area,’ John said. ‘The name of the town’s the smudged bit.’ He looked up enquiringly. ‘Who’s it from then, Mrs S? Who’s writing to you from Australia?’

‘Rita.’

‘Rita!’ echoed Carrie. ‘Rita’s in Australia? Does Mavis know?’

‘Don’t know,’ Lily shrugged, ‘but I don’t think so. She’d never let them be took that far away, would she?’

‘No, course she wouldn’t,’ said John, trying to sound reassuring. ‘She’ll be real upset when she hears.’

‘What’s Mav going to say when you tell her?’

‘I ain’t going to tell her, not yet,’ stated Lily. ‘I got to find out exactly what’s happened to them girls before we say anything to Mavis, right? I know you’re her best friend, Carrie, but please don’t tell her. Don’t even say I’ve been here. Please.’