His voice was low and tender. The smell of his lavender hair oil, the tobacco in his pipe, and the way his fingers gently caressed her side made her feel quite faint. ‘Yes,’ she whispered. ‘Because you’re special to me too.’
He was looking at her in such an intense way she had to drop her eyes. ‘Kiss me, Adele,’ he said softly.
Slightly embarrassed, she gave him a quick peck on the cheek. But he put his hand against her cheek and drew her back close to him. ‘On the lips,’ he whispered. ‘That’s what people who love one another do.’
Adele was so overcome by him saying that he loved her that she flung her arms around his neck and kissed him willingly, but his moustache tickled her lips and made her giggle and break away.
‘You find me funny?’ he asked.
His dark eyes bored into her, and his expression was stern.
‘No, it’s just your moustache is bristly,’ she said hastily.
He got up from his knees and she was afraid she had offended him, but to her surprise he pulled her to her feet, then sat down again, drawing her on to his lap. ‘So if I shave it off, will you try again?’ he asked.
A small dart of anxiety pricked her. She wanted to be cuddled, but he wasn’t doing it quite right. He was holding her very tightly against him with one arm, but his other hand was on her thigh.
‘I should go now, it’s time to help get the tea ready,’ she said, trying to wriggle away.
‘No it isn’t,’ he said, drawing her back against him. ‘Mrs Makepeace has gone into town like she always does on Friday afternoons. You know we don’t start tea until she gets back. We’ve got lots of time yet. Don’t you want to be my special girl and have a little cuddle?’
He looked hurt, his big brown eyes so mournful that Adele felt obliged to put her arms around his neck and hug him tightly.
‘That’s better,’ he murmured against her neck. ‘I think of you as my little girl. I need to hold you.’
Later that day up in the bathroom, Adele sat on the stool drying baby Mary, while Beryl washed Susan and John in Mary’s bathwater. This part of the day was one Adele always enjoyed. Mary was a chubby, placid toddler who responded joyfully to being tickled and played with. Susan and John were happy little souls too, content just to sit there in the bath laughing and splashing each other. Beryl was always less prickly and tense here, and Adele supposed that was because Mrs Makepeace never came to see what they were doing with the small children.
Adele wished she and Beryl could become real friends. It ought to be possible, there was only a year’s difference in their ages, and they were together so much. But Beryl never initiated a conversation, she hardly ever laughed, and she appeared to be lost in a world of her own.
It didn’t help that Mrs Makepeace was always on at her. Adele had often noticed that Beryl seemed bewildered and lost, and it was only when she was with the little ones that she came to life at all.
‘You’ve got a bit sunburnt on the back of your neck,’ Adele said, noticing the angry red patch as the other girl bent over the bath. ‘Is it sore?’
‘Yes, very.’ Beryl grimaced, putting her hand up to touch it. ‘I told Mrs Makepeace but she told me to stop moaning.’
‘You’d have to have a leg coming off before she’d show any interest,’ Adele said in sympathy. ‘But there’s some calamine lotion in the cupboard, I saw it there the other day. That’ll soothe it. I’ll dab some on for you once we’ve got these three put to bed.’
Beryl’s thin face broke into a wide smile of appreciation. ‘Thanks. That’s what I miss most about home. Our mum always noticed stuff like sunburn or grazed knees. Did yours?’
Adele shook her head.
‘She didn’t!’ Beryl looked shocked. ‘What about yer dad?’
‘He wouldn’t have noticed if I was on fire,’ Adele said. ‘He wouldn’t even look after me while Mum went into hospital.’
A month ago wild horses wouldn’t have dragged that piece of information from her, but Adele was keener to keep the conversation going than to cling on to loyalty to a man who didn’t want her around. ‘What’s your dad like?’
‘Nice when he ain’t drinking,’ Beryl said wistfully. ‘That’s why us kids got taken away when Mum got ill. He went on a bender.’
‘What’s that?’ Adele asked.
Beryl shrugged. ‘Drinking all the time, not coming home and that.’
Adele wanted to ask a specific question about Beryl’s dad but she wasn’t sure how to approach it.
‘Is your dad…’ She hesitated for a moment. ‘Well, affectionate to you?’
Beryl frowned. ‘Wotcha mean? Does he hug me and stuff?’
Adele nodded.
‘Yeah, all the time. Even more when he’s got the drink in him.’
The conversation was abruptly ended when Susan got some soap in her eye and began crying. By the time the two older girls had washed it out, dried her and got her nightdress on, Adele couldn’t think of a way to open the conversation up again.
What she really wanted to know was if Beryl’s dad ever kissed her on the lips. Mr Makepeace had done it again to her after cuddling her for quite a long time. It made her feel creepy and confused. It was almost a relief when the lesson time was over, yet she was scared too that he would stop loving her if she didn’t want to kiss him again.
She thought if she only knew how real fathers behaved with their daughters, she wouldn’t feel funny about Mr Makepeace. It was no good thinking about Jim Talbot, she couldn’t remember ever being kissed or hugged by him even when she was small, though she remembered him throwing Pamela up in the air to make her laugh.
How could she find out about ordinary dads? No one in this place came from what she’d call a normal family, at least not the kind she read about in books. Even books didn’t make it very clear. Daughters always ran to their fathers, they said they hugged and kissed, and she had always supposed that was in the way she’d seen Mr Patterson greet his children. But there was no point in comparing Mr Patterson to Mr Makepeace anyway. Mr Patterson worked on the railways; he was a rough, tough man, quite different to a teacher.
Two weeks later, at tea-time, another girl, called Ruby Johnston, arrived at The Firs. She was ten, the same age as Freda. She looked ill, she was so thin and pale, her clothes were several sizes too large, and someone had hacked her brown hair off to less than an inch all over. She looked terrified when Mrs Makepeace brought her into the kitchen and she saw all the children sitting round the table. Adele felt really sorry for her because she remembered how she felt on her first day.
‘Adele, you’ll have to move up to the attic room to make room for Ruby,’ Mrs Makepeace said after making all the introductions.
Adele glanced at Beryl and saw she wasn’t pleased to hear this. Adele guessed she was thinking that now she’d have the sole responsibility for Mary if she woke in the night. Adele didn’t welcome the change either. She didn’t want to be alone in a room at the top of the house.
It was a nasty, tiny room which hadn’t been used for years. Birds often got in there as there were gaps in the house’s eaves. The walls were stained, there were damp, bare boards on the floor, and there was no electricity up there either.
Adele certainly didn’t find Beryl and Freda great company, they were dull and slow-witted and afraid of their own shadows, but she’d got used to being with them. If she woke in the night it was comforting to know they were close. But apart from that, Adele was afraid that being in a room on her own would mark her out even further from all the other children.
Being the eldest set her apart anyway, and then there were the private lessons. No one had ever said much about them, but perhaps that was because they saw them as a kind of punishment rather than a privilege. Yet the time away from the other children did make her feel detached from them.
Every single lesson now Mr Makepeace wanted to kiss and cuddle her, and sometimes he didn’t teach her anything.
It seemed so strange that she used to thi
nk it would be heaven on earth to have this man hold her in his arms, and now that the wish had come true, she didn’t really want it.
The creepy feeling she’d got the first time was with her constantly now. When he stroked her arms and legs, ran his fingers through her hair and held her so tightly on his lap, all she could think of was that it wasn’t right. But she didn’t know why, or how to put an end to it.
He said he needed to touch her because he loved her, and that she was his special girl. He said he’d never felt this way about any of the other children who’d come to The Firs. So if she said she didn’t like it, surely that was the same as saying she didn’t like him?
‘Adele!’
Adele started at the sound of Mrs Makepeace’s voice. She had been so absorbed in her private worries that she hadn’t noticed the others had finished their tea, or that she was being spoken to.
‘I’m sorry, did you say something?’ she asked guiltily.
‘Yes I did, several times,’ the woman snapped. ‘You can take Ruby upstairs, show her where she’ll sleep and run a bath for her,’ she said. ‘Find her a nightdress and some clean clothes that fit her. Then you’d better make up the bed in the attic. Freda can help Beryl put the little ones to bed tonight.’
Adele could sense that Ruby was even more scared as they left the kitchen and she was ashamed of herself for not being more welcoming.
‘Where’ve you come from?’ she asked, trying to make up for it. ‘Was it London like me?’
‘Deptford,’ Ruby replied in a small voice.
Adele nodded. She knew that was in South London but had no idea what it was like. ‘Is your mum ill?’
‘She’s dead,’ Ruby said flatly.
Adele didn’t know what to say to that, she knew adults always said they were sorry, but something in Ruby’s tone told her that wasn’t appropriate. ‘Well, you’ll be all right here,’ she said, deciding to say something similar to what Beryl had said to her on her first night. ‘Mrs Makepeace doesn’t beat us or anything, and the other kids are nice.’
She ran a bath for the girl and while it was running told her to take off her clothes and put them in the laundry basket. Ruby did as she was told almost too fast, as though she thought she’d be punished. When Adele saw there were a great many bruises and marks all over her body, some old and some new, she felt a great well of empathy for her.
‘After the bath you can help me pick out your new clothes if you like,’ she said, afraid to say anything about the bruises. ‘There’s lots of nice stuff in the cupboard.’
Ruby’s lips moved just slightly, as if she wanted to smile but had forgotten how to. Although she was so thin and pale she had lovely grey eyes and very long eyelashes – when her hair grew again she’d probably be very pretty. ‘Are you the oldest here?’ she asked.
‘Yes, but only by a year,’ Adele replied, very glad Ruby seemed less scared now. ‘But you’ll find Beryl thinks she’s in charge because she was the oldest for a long time before I came.’
‘She gave me a funny look,’ Ruby said, and frowned. ‘Will she be mean to me?’
‘What, Beryl?’ Adele giggled. ‘She couldn’t be mean to anyone, she’s too much of a scaredy cat. No one will be mean to you here, Ruby. If they are, you tell me.’
Ruby got into the bath gingerly, with a renewed fearful look in her eyes, and Adele guessed she wasn’t used to a real bath. Naked, she was so thin that Adele could see all her bones, and she wondered if Mrs Makepeace would give her extra food to fatten her up.
Adele made small talk while the other girl bathed. She told her a little about each of the other children, and something of the chores they each had. Then, when she sensed Ruby felt more comfortable with her, she asked who cut her hair so short.
‘Aunt Anne,’ Ruby said with a deep sigh. ‘She’s not a real aunty, just the woman Dad had it off with. She said it was the only way to deal with the nits I had. But that wasn’t the real reason, she just hated me.’
Adele sat down abruptly on the stool, shocked that a ten-year-old would speak of something like ‘having it off’. Adele had heard big girls use that expression sometimes, and she knew roughly what it meant. It was what men went to prostitutes for. But she wasn’t going to say anything about that to Ruby, not when she’d been treated badly by this woman.
‘It will soon grow again, love,’ she said. ‘And those bruises will go too. I felt better when I got here, and you will too in a day or so.’
‘Did you think nobody in the world cared about you?’ Ruby asked, her grey eyes full of pain.
Adele nodded. A lump had come up in her throat because she felt so sorry for the girl. ‘But we’ve got one another to care about here,’ she said. ‘It’s safe here, no one hurts us.’
Later that evening Adele lay in the bed in the attic thinking about Ruby. In the face of what the new girl had gone on to tell her later, she didn’t think she had any reason to mind being alone up in this room. The old iron bed was a bit creaky and the mattress lumpy, but she was lying between clean sheets, there was light coming in from the landing downstairs, and she wasn’t hungry or hurt.
Ruby had told her that her father had left her with Aunt Anne and her four children in their basement flat and gone off to look for work. Ruby said she didn’t know exactly why Aunt Anne had suddenly become so nasty to her, but she thought it was because her dad hadn’t sent any money. Whatever the reason, she locked Ruby in the coal cellar which was outside the front door and went under the pavement of the street above. She said it was bitterly cold in there, and dark too, and at night she had only a few sacks to lie on, and an old coat to put over her. Each morning Aunt Anne would drag her out to wait for the postman to come. When there was nothing from her father, she’d hit Ruby, then shut her back in the cellar with just a couple of slices of bread and a cup of water.
Ruby didn’t know exactly how long she’d been in there, but she said her father had gone away in early February, and it was about three weeks after that when Aunt Anne had shut her in. It seemed her teacher at school and the neighbours thought her father had come back for her and taken her away when they didn’t see her. She was only found and released because a gas man went down to the basement area to empty the meter and heard her crying. He called the police.
Adele felt sick as Ruby told her all this. Some of the marks on her body were from cigarette burns: she said Anne would force her into a chair and insist Ruby knew where her father was, and she would burn her to try to get it out of her.
‘But I didn’t know and I thought I was going to die in that cellar,’ Ruby said, tears running down her cheeks. ‘I prayed Dad would come back for me, but Aunt Anne said once that men didn’t give a toss about their children, all they cared about was getting their cocks into a fanny, and once the woman was up the spout they were off. I suppose she was right.’
Adele had tried to hide her shock at the crude words Ruby used, and indeed her bewilderment that a ten-year-old appeared to know so much more about what went on between men and women than she did. Adele did know that the rude word ‘fucking’ was part of being married and having babies, but Ruby’s graphic words made it sound so ugly.
Yet hearing Ruby’s terrible story had made Adele feel lucky. She hadn’t spent one night hungry and cold since her mother was taken away. The doctor had cared enough to make sure she went to a decent home, and she had Mr Makepeace who loved her. She felt she ought to feel really happy; she might have ended up somewhere with someone like Ruby’s Aunt Anne.
A few days after Ruby’s arrival, Mr Makepeace went away on business again. As he always ate his meals in his living room, and often went out in his black car in the mornings, Adele didn’t even think about him until the afternoon when they were due to have a lesson.
‘Will Sir be back in time for lessons?’ she asked Mrs Makepeace.
‘No, he won’t,’ the woman snapped. ‘He’s gone away for a while. But you can help the younger ones with some reading and writing.’
&n
bsp; ‘Today?’ Adele asked.
‘Today and every day until I tell you otherwise,’ was the curt reply. ‘So don’t just stand there gawping at me, if you’re as clever as my husband claims, you should be able to manage perfectly well. Take the middle group first, and the older ones can do some jobs for me.’
The middle group was the six-to eight-year-olds, Frank, Lizzie, Bertie, Colin and Janice. While they all liked having stories read to them, none of them read very well themselves. In fact, six-year-old Frank barely knew the letters of the alphabet, and when Adele had tried to teach him on several previous occasions he’d refused even to try.
Adele was about to point out the difficulty of having Frank in the class with the others when she sensed Mrs Makepeace was waiting for some sort of protest. She had that slightly mocking look on her face she always had when she was boiling up for something. One wrong word when she was like that meant a clout. So Adele said nothing and went out into the garden to round the five children up.
The lesson went much better than she expected, but then she did bribe the children by saying that if they each read a passage from a book in turn, and then copied six lines from it in their best handwriting while she helped Frank, she’d read them all a story.
Mrs Makepeace came into the schoolroom just as they were doing the writing part. She stood for a moment watching, and Adele carried on helping Frank write simple three-letter words. Perhaps she was impressed that all the children were working, because she soon turned on her heel and left without saying a word.
The older group later were no trouble at all, they got bored being out in the garden for long periods, and they were glad to have something to do. Even Jack, who was a little backward and couldn’t read much better than an average seven-year-old, wanted to try. For the writing part Adele chalked up sentences on the blackboard, missing out an adjective, and got them to put their own in.
She had to suppress a giggle when she read one of Jack’s efforts. He was a big, ungainly boy with a sloppy mouth and sticking-out ears, so gormless that she couldn’t usually be bothered much with him. But this really amused her.
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