Barefoot and Lost (8 page)

     ‘Yes, I think so, where are we going?’

     ‘Where I decide, I expect to some shops, then to the castle, and then beside the river for a picnic.’
Marjorie
starts her laborious journey up the aisle; I think our walk is going to be a very slow one.

    
I have just noticed that seven of the children are wearing red cardigans, while the others are wearing navy blue. All the boys have grey trousers, white shirts, grey socks, and black shoes. The girls are wearing light blue and white check dresses, grey socks, and black shoes. 

     ‘
Marjorie
, why are some of the kids wearing red cardigans?’

     ‘Because they are from Saint Gabriel’s they are not all from St Stephen’s now go along with you and take up your position on the kerbside. Don’t forget, always keep to
the outside. Don’t let them stray into the road
.’
Our crocodile moves off at the speed of a caterpillar.

     Walking down
Tonbridge High Street
we take up most of the pavement, other pedestrians have to move aside to allow us to crawl along.
Marjorie
gives each one a smile and a polite thank you, some reply, but most just stare with a look of pity,
they know we are from the orphanage. The children do not seem to be like other eight year old kids I have seen at school. They are always noisy, the boys pushing and shoving, the girls always giggling, but these are quiet, speaking in a whisper. All the girls are holding hands, the boys just looking about them, they all seem so unhappy, it is as though they had all become orphans this morning. I have tried talking to some of them, all I get is one word answers, yes, no or alright, not one has asked me who I am or why I am here, it is very strange. 

     I am walking alongside a girl wearing a red cardigan; she is a lot taller than the rest, holding the hand of another girl that looks two years y
ounger, this must be the Canning
girl and her sister. She is looking straight ahead; I touch her arm, she turns her head to look at me. ‘Are you from
Saint
Gabriel
’s or
Saint
Stephens
?’ replying in almost a whisper she says,

     ‘
Saint
Gabriel
’s; are we allowed talking?’

     ‘I think so, who said you couldn’t?’ 

     ‘Miss did’
Marjorie
half turns around and continues waddling backwards.

     ‘
Phillip
, do not engage the children in conversation I wish them to be silent, I do not wish to present a babbling rabble to the citizens of this town, so do your job and be quiet.’ 

And so, we continue in silence, our slow progress to wherever Marjorie decides to take us.

     Marjorie raises her hand for us to stop; her action is as though she is in charge of a wagon train. She waddles into a baker’s shop and emerges five minutes later clutching a small newspaper parcel. With a wave of her hand
(Wagons Ho)
we roll along the High Street.
             

     In front of the cast
le is a large grassed area, with
flower beds are around the edge. The castle is more complete than the ruins at
Hastings
. The entrance is massive like a real castle with two large towers and a drawbridge but, behind, there is very little standing, just the outline of some rooms and a couple of walls.
Marjorie
does her wagon master bit again bringing our slow column to a halt. ‘Pay attention; you are to form groups of three, two boys and a girl to each group, if you make a fuss about it I will select who goes with who.

Once you have sorted yourselves out you can go and explore, you are not to leave the confines of the castle and, under no circumstance do you go near the river is that understood?’ The tall girl from
Saint
Gabriel
’s puts up her hand.

     ‘Yes, what is it
Rachel
?’

     ‘Miss, if my sister is not with me she will cry.’       

     ‘Then she will just have to learn not to;
Phillip
, you go with her sister and that boy over there with the glasses, the one on his own. All of you stay in your groups if I see anyone on their own that group will be severely dealt with by me. You have half an hour, when you hear my whistle blow three times you are to return here, understood?’

      A chorus of ‘Yes Miss’ echoes off the walls of the castle, and then the kids scatter in three’s, like normal kids.

     ‘My name is
Phil
, what is yours?’

     ‘
Cyril
’

      ‘And what’s yours?” Her response is to burst into tears, crying out as though she is terrified, ‘I want
Rachel
.’ It is going to be a long half hour. Cyril is wearing red,

      ‘
Cyril
, what is her name?’

      ‘It’s
Miriam
.’

      ‘Take hold of her hand
Cyril
, come on
Miriam
let us run and see if we can catch
Rachel
.’ This is doing the trick, the crying has stopped. Cyril is having trouble keeping up as we chase after Rachel who is dawdling, holding back the boys she is with.

     ‘
Rachel
come on, if we get behind the wall Fatty won’t be able to see us and
Miriam
can rejoin you.’ The six of us get behind the wall out of sight.

     ‘
Cyril
, do you want to go with these boys and I’ll stay here with the girls?’

     ‘I don’t know; will it be alright?’

     ‘Yes of course it will, if we get in trouble I will take the blame, but make sure you keep hidden from Fatty.’

     ‘Yes, come on, we won’t bite we promise.’
Cyril
, with a big grin, follows the boys. Miriam takes hold of Rachel’s hand.

      ‘Have you been at
Saint
Gabriel
’s very long?’

      ‘Just over two months. We were evacuees, staying in a manor house near Penhurst until the war finished. Mrs. Smyth told us both our Mum and Dad had been killed, we didn’t know until she told us. It was then she said she couldn’t be lumbered with a couple of kids for the rest of her life. The next day the council men took us to
Saint
Gabriel
’s.’

     ‘That is horrible, how long were you at her house?’

     ‘Just over three years, Mir’ was only five when we went there. It was quite nice, the housekeeper Peggy, and her husband Bert were lovely and looked after us very well, we hardly ever saw Mrs. Smyth, her husband is in the Army and he was away all the time but I don’t think she missed him, there were always a lot of American airmen from the airbase there, they were always having dances it was fun. What about you, how long have you been at
Saint
Stephens
?’

     ‘It’s my second day; my Gran was looking after me until she died last week. What’s it like at
Saint
Gabriel
’s?’

     ‘Alright, they are very strict but they let me stay with Mir’ that is the main thing.’ 

     
Three blasts on a whistle echoes off the castle walls ‘
We have to
go I can’t see the boys can you?’

     ‘Over there by the wall, I can see Cyril can’t see the other two.’ Cyril sees me waving and comes running.

     ‘Where are the other two?’

    ‘I don’t know, they ran off and left me when I tripped and cut my knee.’

     ‘Okay, we will have to go now, if Fatty says anything leave the talking to me, I’m already in trouble a bit more won’t make any difference. Cyril have you got a handkerchief?’ Cyril shakes his head.

     ‘No, okay, let me quickly tie mine around your knee, and limp very badly and hold onto my arm, let Fatty think you are hurt.’ I can see Fatty with her hands on her hips looking our way, she seems annoyed. ‘Sorry Marjorie, Cyril fell over, I couldn’t look after him and Miriam as well so I asked Rachel to look after her sister, I told the other two boys to go on alone, I hope you don’t mind?’

     ‘What happened to him?’

     ‘Miriam wouldn’t stop crying so I made the six of us stay together, I got Rachel to sit with her sister. I was chasing the boys around the ruin,
Cyril
fell, and cut his knee I was bandaging it
just as you blew your whistle.’

     ‘Well thank you Phillip it would appear that you have acted very responsibly. I have another job for you, I want you to go to the bakery with Anne and collect our lunches, and while you are doing that I will attend to that knee.’ 

     Marjorie turns to speak with Anne I bend down to Cyril, ‘The cut is not very bad but make out you have twisted your knee and it hurts to walk, do that for me then none of us will be in trouble.’   

     On the way to collect lunch Anne  asked the same questions about Lion
as Fatty did
, I told her much the same that I really didn’t know Lionel, she seemed to be satisfied with that. We are now halfway back from the bakers and we haven’t spoken since. 

This suits me as I want to avoid saying anything in case I say something about Flynn. I want to talk it over with people I can trust before I decide what I am going to do.

    
Anne
is carrying two wicker shopping baskets and I am carrying twenty four of the one third of a pint sized bottles of milk. They are in two wire crates and are quite heavy, it’s a good thing my arms are strong from swimming.
W
hat about swimming
, will I swim again;
did
anyone tell Len I was sent away?
I expect
June
has
told him
,
he would have been so disappointed, maybe I could write to him but I don’t know his address
, I suppose I could send it to the baths.
I know I promised to write to
June
,
I’ll
ask her to pass it on.
I miss swimming, June, Pop and most of al
l Gran and my best friend Jet. O
h I forgot Michael
, what about Michael?
‘Phillip, are you with us or not, you can put t
he milk down now?’
Fatty is speaking to me.

     ‘Sorry, I was thinking about my Gran and my Mum.’

     ‘Well I suggest you stop dwelling on the past, it was a bad dream, forget it we are your family now. The sooner you put the past behind you the sooner you will settle into Saint Stephens, it will be for the best believe me.’
What a stupid women
,
how coul
d I ever forget my Mum and Gran? D
on’t care what sh
e says I will never forget them.

     Lunch is two thick slices of fresh crusty bread spread with strawberry jam, and a bottle of milk. We are all seated on the grass beside the river; the sun has come out Fatty needs her hat after all. I have joined Rachel and her sister. Miriam is really nice; she has stopped crying and has given me one of her pieces of bread. Rachel is funny making me laugh pretending she is fat and talking like Marj
orie. I like her
and I am sure she likes me too; she thinks I was great fooling Fatty. Rachel’s birthday is September, she will be eleven.

     ‘Where did you live before you went to live with that lady?’

     ‘We were living in Woolwich, when Dad joined the RAF in nineteen forty one; we stayed on there for nearly a year. The bombing became very bad around us so Mum sent us to Penhurst as evacuees. She stayed in
London
for a while, we saw her most weekends when she wasn’t working. She told me she felt wasted working in a shop and asked me did I mind if she joined the RAF because she wanted to do her bit, whatever that is. Of course I said yes thinking she would be with Dad.’

     ‘Was she?’

    
‘I don’t think so, dad was stationed at Biggin Hill and mum at Bletchley, I think they are a long way from each
other. Anyway on mum’s first leave they met up in
London
, they were in a cinema that was bombed, they were both killed,’

     ‘That is terrible who told you all this?’ 

     ‘Mrs. Smyth, she apparently knew at the time but never told us.’