An Orphan in the Snow: The heart-warming saga you need to read this year. Molly Green

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ way he’d enjoyed her discomfort and with a flicker of annoyance she marched into the station café. She sat down, ordered some tea and scrambled egg on toast, and opened her book, the one Aunt Ada had slipped into her bag for the journey. June grinned as she turned the page to her bookmark. Mary Poppins couldn’t be more appropriate.

      ‘Sorry it’s powdered,’ the waitress said as she put the plate down in front of her. ‘We haven’t had our usual order of eggs delivered this week.’

      ‘I’m one of those strange people who quite like powdered egg,’ June said with a smile.

      ‘Most of the customers understand, but we’ve got one who grumbles every time. I always remind him there is a war on, and he gives me such an old-fashioned look. He don’t know if I’m being saucy or not.’ The woman chuckled, showing a wide gap in her teeth.

      ‘I’m glad you remind him,’ June said, her smile broadening.

      ‘Where are you off to, if you don’t mind me asking?’ the waitress asked.

      ‘I’m going to be working at Bingham Hall.’

      ‘What used to be Lord and Lady Bingham’s big house.’ The waitress put both hands on her hips, her expression one of genuine interest. ‘It’s now the orphanage, isn’t it?’

      ‘Yes. Dr Barnardo’s. Do you know how far it is?’

      The waitress frowned and pulled one of her earlobes as though it might help her to think.

      ‘It’s quite a way from here. Are you going on the bus?’ June nodded. ‘It’s about eight miles but the bus will stop at every stop so it’ll feel three times as long. Anyway, you enjoy your breakfast and I’ll go and bring you a pot of tea.’

      June shivered as she rubbed her hands together through her gloves. The queue at the bus stop was long, the women chatting in such a strong accent she couldn’t catch all they were saying. Stamping her feet, which were turning numb, she was thankful to see a number 6 bus approaching.

      A large lady squeezed in by the side of her, pinning her against the window. June tried to read her book but the constant jolting made her feel nauseous and she was forced to give up. She turned her head to look out of the window, which was crying out for a good clean, and glimpsed hills and valleys and trees and the occasional small village. But her mind was busy with the thought of Bingham Hall. What would it be like? Could she make a real difference to the children’s lives? June’s thoughts rushed back to Clara. Even though the accident had happened more than five years ago it was still difficult to believe she would never see her sister again. Tears stung the back of her eyes. Somehow she had to make up for Clara’s tragic end.

      I want to do my bit in the war as well as everyone, she thought, as the bus rumbled along. She recalled that on the very day she’d received the offer from Dr Barnardo’s she’d had a letter from the Auxiliary Territorial Service telling her she was to report for duty. She’d almost forgotten she’d applied in her excitement at Aunt Ada knowing someone at Dr Barnardo’s and putting in a word. Thank goodness the ATS agreed that her position in an orphanage was important, and even essential, and they’d immediately released her. It had been such a relief to make her own decision about her future. Working with children, especially those who had very little, was her hope, her dream. An orphanage such as Dr Barnardo’s just felt right.

      The large woman beside her spread out even further and gave a long grunt of a snore. She smelled as though it had been some time since she’d had a bath. June sighed. She mustn’t judge her. Who knew what her circumstances were? Just get this journey over and you’ll be fine, she told herself.

      But the time dragged. Once the bus turned round in a complete circle.

      ‘We can’t get through,’ called out the conductor. ‘There was a raid last night and our road is completely blocked. We’ll have to do a detour. Probably add another half-hour on to the journey.’

      The half-hour turned into an hour. Every time the driver tried to take a detour, the detour road would come to a full stop and he’d have to turn back and try another route, negotiating his way past recently bombed buildings. Somehow she hadn’t thought she’d see such depressing scenes so far from London, as Pathé News at the cinema always seemed to draw attention to London devastation. She prayed her aunt would keep safe. Dear Aunt Ada. When she’d been undecided about whether she should choose the ATS or the orphanage, her aunt had encouraged her to take up the position with Dr Barnardo’s.

      ‘You’re a natural with children,’ she’d said to June. ‘And you don’t want to waste your nursery nurse training. But don’t forget to have a bit of fun sometimes. There’ll be plenty of time for sadness if this war carries on much longer.’ She’d looked June up and down, her eyes full of affection. ‘You’re very young still, and pretty as a picture, so don’t tie yourself down to one man … and that includes Howard Blessing.’

      Howard Blessing. June had had a crush on him when they’d first begun dating, but the attraction had quickly petered out – on her side, at least.

      ‘Don’t forget, you were the one who introduced me to him,’ June said with a laugh.

      ‘That’s as maybe. But he was supposed to take you to the pictures and dancing, not ask you to marry him – at your age.’

      ‘He was only kidding,’ June said. ‘Anyway, I don’t love him and never did, so there’s nothing to worry about. I just want to concentrate on my new job, but if I ever settle down it will be for love … though I shan’t hold my breath.’

      ‘You’re also too young to be cynical,’ her aunt had said with feeling. ‘You’ll fall in love, no doubt about it, and when it happens it’s the best thing on earth.’

      The conductor broke into her thoughts as he called out, ‘Next stop, Ferndale. That’s yours, hen,’ he said, walking towards her, smiling.

      Hen? Was he referring to her? What a strange expression. She was sure she had a lot to learn coming all this way from London.

      ‘Oh, thank you.’ June scrambled to her feet, which was difficult in the confined space. The large lady struggled up to let her out and June moved towards the front of the bus. Someone had shoved her case into the luggage space, and as she tried to lift it out the bus jolted to a stop, pitching her forward.

      ‘Steady,’ the conductor said, holding her arm. He glanced at her curiously. ‘Where’re you off to, hen?’

      ‘Dr Barnardo’s home. Do you know it?’

      ‘Aye. It used to be Lord Bingham’s house. That’s where it got its name: Bingham Hall. It’s up the lane on the left, then left again. A good twenty minutes’ walk, I’d say, as it’s quite a climb.’ He threw her a cheeky grin. ‘But you’re young … you’ll probably do it in less than that.’ His eyes swept approvingly over her ankles before he asked, ‘Are you a teacher … or visiting one of the young’uns?’

      ‘I’m working there – matron’s assistant.’

      ‘You’ll be working for Mrs Pherson, then.’

      June nodded, pleased that someone knew her new employer.

      ‘Well, good luck, hen, is all I’ve got to say. I think you’ll be needing it – and not just with the young’uns.’

      She СКАЧАТЬ