An Orphan in the Snow. Molly Green

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СКАЧАТЬ style="font-size:15px;">      ‘But you’re here working with children.’

      ‘True. But these kids are different. They’re a challenge. They don’t have a normal home. This is all they know, poor little blighters. I don’t mind them.’

      ‘So tell me about Lizzie,’ June said, relieved that Iris was just as nice as she’d first thought.

      ‘It happened a couple of months ago. Lizzie was at her grandmother’s house for a few days and while she was away her house was hit in a bombing raid and caught fire. It was terrible.’ Iris’s voice began to quiver. ‘The fire engine got there too late. They all died. Her brother, who was only seven, and both parents.’

      A shiver ran down June’s back making her gasp. She could feel tears pricking at the back of her eyes, imagining Lizzie, not even four, trying to understand where her mummy and daddy and brother had gone.

      ‘Since she came here the poor little kid hasn’t spoken a word.’ Iris searched in her bag for her packet of cigarettes, took one out and offered it to June, who shook her head. Iris put it between her own lips and flipped a silver lighter until it flared, then inhaled deeply before she let it out in a stream.

      June felt the smoke catch the back of her throat and she tried not to cough.

      ‘What about the grandmother?’ she asked.

      ‘She used to come and see her once a week,’ Iris said. ‘But she’s getting old. Said she couldn’t bring up the child on her own. It was too much responsibility. And it was her son who died in the fire, and her grandson. She’s beside herself with grief. It was just too much for her. You can’t blame her.’

      ‘And Lizzie doesn’t even talk to her grandmother?’

      ‘Not a word. She stares at her as though she doesn’t even recognise her. It breaks Mrs Dixon’s heart. She hasn’t been to see her lately. I don’t think she can bear it, poor thing.’

      ‘Can we go and see Lizzie?’

      ‘I don’t see why not. C’mon, let’s go now while the kids are having their nap.’

      The two girls ran up the flights of stairs and Iris took out a bunch of keys from her pocket, unlocked the door and pushed it open. Apprehensive of what she might see, June noticed Lizzie curled up in a corner like a frightened animal, clutching a ball of wool.

      ‘Hello, Lizzie, it’s Nurse Iris come to see you. I’ve brought Miss Lavender.’ Iris caught June’s arm and gently propelled her forward.

      Lizzie curled up even smaller if that was possible, her eyes staring, her expression blank. She had three fingers in her mouth.

      ‘Take those fingers out, lovey, and say hello to Miss Lavender.’

      ‘Hello, Lizzie.’ June stepped a few inches closer. Lizzie tightened up, letting the wool fall on to the floor, her hands covering her eyes. ‘Lizzie, do you remember I came into the kitchen yesterday and said hello to you? Can you take your hands away so I can see your pretty face?’

      The little girl moved her hands a fraction so June could just see part of her eyes.

      ‘Maybe tomorrow you’ll let me see you properly,’ June said.

      ‘Here – what’s going on?’

      June turned at the harsh voice from the door. A girl of about 16, built like an ox, stormed in. Lizzie began to cry.

      ‘Hilda, this is Matron’s assistant, Miss Lavender,’ Iris explained. ‘I’m introducing her to Lizzie.’

      ‘You can see you’ve frightened her,’ Hilda squealed. ‘If you don’t leave this minute I’ll report you to Matron – both of you.’

      Lizzie cried even louder.

      ‘You need to watch yourself, Hilda,’ Iris said, irritation with the girl colouring the words. ‘I may be putting in my own report – and it won’t be to Matron, either.’

      ‘She’s not the right person to be in charge of Lizzie,’ June said, when they were downstairs again. ‘Lizzie needs someone gentle and understanding and encouraging. I don’t think she’ll ever get that from Hilda.’

      ‘You’re right. She was only here a few weeks before Lizzie arrived so I don’t know her that well, but I’m not keen, I must say.’ Iris turned to look at June directly. ‘What do you think, June? Do you still think we should force Lizzie to play with the others? Have her meals with them?’

      ‘Maybe not right away, and I don’t think we should force her to do anything, but little by little I think we should include her in some games, and if all goes well, let her sit with us at mealtimes.’

      ‘I agree. She’s such a dear little poppet … must be lonely as hell. Pretty little thing too.’

      ‘It doesn’t really matter if she’s pretty or not,’ June said, her eye on Matron’s door. ‘She should be treated kindly and lovingly. She’s just lost both her parents and her brother. She hasn’t anything more to lose – except her voice,’ she added soberly. ‘That’s what’s so terrible. She can’t communicate with anyone.’

      ‘Any suggestions?’

      ‘Not yet, but I’m going to make it my mission to help her.’

       Chapter Six

      The next two days slipped by quickly as June tried to take everything in and work through Matron’s list. Daisy and Doris came out of the sick ward but they didn’t join in with the younger children’s favourite game of hide-and-seek or practise with the skipping rope, and June noticed they left half their food. She wondered how long they’d been at Dr Barnardo’s, and the reason why they’d come. She’d ask Matron. She’d also ask Matron if she could see a list of every child’s name and date of birth, and who their parents were, if known, and how the child had come to be at Dr Barnardo’s. It was important to know everything possible about each child and Matron was bound to keep a book with those sorts of details.

      She decided to waylay Matron immediately after the children went to their first class of the morning.

      ‘Matron, it would help me a lot if I knew the different backgrounds of the children and I wondered if I could have a look at the records—’ She broke off when she saw Matron’s frown. ‘Just to acquaint myself,’ she added hurriedly.

      ‘I don’t see that’s necessary at all, Miss Lavender. They’re confidential.’

      ‘Yes, I understand, but surely not to the people who work with the children. It’s difficult to know how to handle them when I know nothing about them. They’re all individuals with different stories and I feel I’d be able to help them far more if I knew them better.’

      ‘You will know them better when you’ve been here longer, I’m sure.’ Matron’s voice and body were stiff with annoyance that she was being challenged.

      ‘No, they СКАЧАТЬ