The Throwaway Children

by Diney Costeloe

  ‘Good. Now, make sure all those going have the usual sets of clothes ready, and a decent pair of shoes each, and I’ll authorize the expenditure. Good evening to you.’

  15

  The children had almost no notice of their departure for Australia. Rita and the other Purples were laying the tables on Friday evening, when they were summoned to Miss Vanstone’s office.

  ‘Just leave that,’ said Ole Smithy brusquely, ‘and get along to the office, sharp as you like.’

  ‘What on earth have we done now?’ wondered Rita as she and Daisy headed along the corridor.

  Daisy shrugged. ‘Don’t know, but you can bet it ain’t nothing good.’

  At that moment Sheila Nevin appeared, dragging an unwilling Rosie along behind her.

  ‘Here, what are you doing with my sister?’ Rita demanded.

  ‘Nothing,’ glowered Sheila, ‘just sent to fetch her, that’s all. Got to take her and these,’ she jerked her thumb at Sylvia and Susan trailing behind, ‘to Miss Vanstone’s office.’

  ‘Let go of her,’ Rita said fiercely, adding more gently, ‘Come here, Rosie, you can come along with me, we got to go too.’

  ‘I didn’t want to come with her, Reet,’ whispered Rosie, ‘she hurt me.’

  ‘Never mind that now, Rosie,’ Rita said taking her hand, ‘we got to go to the office.’

  ‘Why, Reet?’ asked Rosie, following willingly now.

  ‘Don’t know, do I? Going to find out.’

  When they reached the office door, Sheila stepped forward and knocked.

  ‘Come in.’

  Sheila turned the handle and they crowded into the small office. Miss Vanstone was sitting behind her desk where they’d always seen her. She looked up and smiled.

  ‘Ah, there you are,’ she said. ‘Close the door, Sheila. Sit down on the floor, please.’

  Rosie sat close to Rita, still holding tightly to her hand and looking at Miss Vanstone with anxious eyes.

  ‘Now then,’ began Miss Vanstone, ‘I’ve some very exciting news for you all. You’ve all been chosen to have the adventure of a lifetime.’ She beamed round at them. ‘Look, I’ve got something to show you.’ She picked up a picture from her desk, holding it up for them to see. ‘Just look at this!’

  It was a wonderful sight, a wide green landscape, rolling hills with occasional patches of woodland and far away in the distance the sparkle of water.

  ‘You’ve been specially chosen to go on holiday,’ Miss Vanstone said. ‘You’d like that, wouldn’t you?’

  For a long moment they all stared at the picture in silence, not really understanding what she was talking about. A holiday? Where? To the place in the picture? Where was the place in the picture? And most of all… why them?

  ‘But what about school?’ It was Sheila who was brave enough to ask.

  ‘It’s the end of term next week,’ Miss Vanstone reminded her. ‘You’ll only miss a couple of days, and I’ll tell the school you’re going.’

  ‘Where are we going, then?’ asked Rita, suspicion in her voice.

  ‘You’re going to this wonderful place called Carrabunna,’ replied Miss Vanstone, thinking as she did so, Mrs Hawkins is right, that Rita is a nuisance. ‘It’s a lovely place, warm and sunny, just like in this photo, and out in the countryside.’ She put down the picture. ‘Now then, Matron has been getting your clothes ready for you, and tomorrow she’ll take you all to buy new shoes. That’ll be fun, won’t it?’

  There was an immediate buzz of interest; none of the girls could remember when they last had new shoes of their own, not simply another pair from the communal box.

  ‘Can I take my party dress?’ piped up Rosie, suddenly brave as she saw Miss Vanstone’s smile.

  ‘What party dress?’

  ‘Mine,’ said Rosie.

  ‘We had new dresses for our mum’s wedding,’ Rita said in explanation when Miss Vanstone looked at her enquiringly. ‘Matron took them away.’

  Seeing this as a way to bring Rita back into the fold, Miss Vanstone said, ‘I’ll ask her to pack them in your case, shall I? Would you like to take them?’

  ‘Yes!’ cried Rosie in delight.

  ‘Very well, then.’ Miss Vanstone looked back at Rita, but the little girl had looked away. ‘Now then all of you, go and have your tea.’

  ‘Please, miss,’ ventured Joan Cameron. ‘When do we go?’

  ‘You’re leaving on Sunday,’ came the reply. ‘Mrs Hawkins and I shall be taking you to London on the train.’

  ‘But where is Carra… Carra…’ asked Angela Gardner. ‘Is it in London?’

  ‘No, much further away than that… across the sea!’

  ‘Are we going on a boat?’ asked Daisy, wide-eyed.

  ‘Yes, indeed you are,’ answered Miss Vanstone. ‘Won’t that be an adventure? Now, run along all of you and have your tea.’

  ‘Why is it us?’ wondered Daisy as soon as they were outside the office.

  Rita shrugged. ‘Who knows? Probably wants to get rid of us.’

  ‘But for how long?’ demanded Joan, who had joined them in the passage. ‘I mean, how long is the holiday? When are we coming back?’

  ‘Don’t reckon we are,’ said Sheila, coming up behind them. ‘Reckon she’s sending us to another home, for good.’

  ‘Another home?’ Joan sounded scared. She knew no other home.

  Sheila shook her head. ‘Don’t know, do I?’

  ‘But she said we was going in a boat,’ pointed out Rita.

  ‘Can’t be that, going to another home, by boat!’ scoffed Angela.

  ‘New shoes!’ Daisy said in wonder. ‘Think of that! I never had a pair of new shoes!’

  Later that night, lying in bed, Rita thought about their forthcoming ‘great adventure’. She had no real idea of where they were going, but at least she and Rosie were going together. She wondered if Sheila was right and they weren’t coming back.

  Suppose it don’t matter where they send us, she thought as she watched the summer twilight fade into darkness, we ain’t going home again. It was the first time she had actually admitted this fact to herself. When the pig-faced woman had returned them to Laurel House, Rita had expected severe punishment. She had imagined that the Hawk would send for her again, and the thought made her feel sick, but no summons came from the tower and the next day it was as if nothing had happened.

  ‘Knew they’d catch you,’ Daisy said as the croc formed up for the walk to school. ‘Where did you go? They tried to get it out of me, but I didn’t tell them nothing.’

  ‘You didn’t know nothing,’ pointed out Rita.

  ‘Well, saw you sneaking off, didn’t I? Didn’t tell them that. Did you go home and see the baby?’

  ‘Yes,’ replied Rita shortly. She was fighting back the tears that seemed to come so easily since she’d been home and then dragged back again. Daisy saw and in a rare gesture of comfort, put her arm round her friend and hugged her.

  ‘I think you was very brave, Reet,’ she said. ‘And you took Rosie with you. I never dared run away, and I’m on my own. Wish I had a sister,’ she added wistfully.

  Rita returned the hug. ‘I ain’t going to let them see me cry. Not ever again. I don’t care what they do. Even if the Hawk beats me with the belt.’

  ‘Is that what she did?’ breathed Daisy. ‘Did you tell?’

  ‘Tell who?’ scoffed Rita, but then added, ‘I did say, when I was at home, but they didn’t believe me.’

  ‘I believe you,’ Daisy said stoutly.

  ‘Yeah, well, you’re my best friend, ain’t you? Like another sister. You’re s’posed to believe me.’

  ‘You could tell them at school,’ suggested Daisy. ‘Miss Harrison might believe you.’

  ‘Waste of time.’ Rita dismissed the idea. ‘Even if she did, it’d mean more trouble. The Hawk would say I was telling lies and I’d still be stuck here.’

  Now it seemed there was a chance of escape. Not as they had escaped by running back home to Mum, but by
moving to live somewhere else. Somewhere far away from the Hawk and the Dragon. Surely she and Rosie would be better off anywhere that wasn’t Laurel House.

  The news of their ‘holiday’ was soon common knowledge in the house. The three younger girls from Green Dorm simply accepted it at face value, a holiday in the country, and were the envy of their dorm-mates. The Purples were all going, and somehow that made it easier. They were going together to a new place, but at least there’d be familiar faces.

  It was their night for washing up, and Daisy, cornering Ole Smithy in the kitchen, asked bluntly, ‘Will we be coming back here, Mrs Smith?’

  Ole Smithy looked uncomfortable and said, ‘I don’t know, Daisy, do I? Miss Vanstone says you’re all off somewhere exciting.’ She smiled awkwardly and added, ‘Be nice to have a change from here, won’t it?’

  ‘Where’s this place we’re going to?’ Daisy asked.

  ‘Place called Carrabunna,’ answered the cook. ‘It’s a lovely place, by all accounts. You’ll love it. Now then, Daisy Smart, stop wasting my time and get on with them dishes.’

  Daisy wasn’t satisfied. She had nothing to lose now by pestering the cook, and she knew Ole Smithy was the person most likely to give them the answers, so she turned again from the dishes and announced, ‘But you know where we’re going, don’t you, Mrs Smith? Come on, tell us.’

  ‘Yeah, where is this Carrabunna place?’ asked Angela.

  ‘Yeah, where’re we going?’ demanded Joan.

  ‘And how long for?’ Mary asked.

  ‘When will we be back?’

  ‘Is it a long way? Miss Vanstone said a boat.’

  Once Daisy had had the courage to broach the subject, they’d all fired questions at the unfortunate cook.

  Ole Smithy looked taken aback for a moment and then she made her decision. Why on earth shouldn’t these kids know where they were going? They’d had no preparation for this enormous change in their lives. No one had explained where they were going to, or why. Ole Smithy didn’t approve of them being sent away at all, but at least she could try and tell them a little about where they were going.

  ‘You’re going to Australia,’ she said. ‘It’s a country a long way away, and you’ll have to go on a big ship to get there. But when you get there it’ll be lovely! Nice and warm, with lots of open space and lots of things to do.’

  Australia! They stared at her in amazement. Australia meant, if it meant anything, kangaroos and koala bears.

  ‘I don’t want to go to Australia!’ Rita burst out, thinking of Mum and Gran. Of all the children selected to go, Rita and Rosie were the only ones who had a family. Tears sprang unbidden to her eyes, but she forced them back, determined to maintain her resolution never to let anyone see her cry… ever again.

  ‘Might be better than here,’ pointed out Daisy a little uncertainly.

  ‘Couldn’t be worse,’ muttered Angela, and Dora nodded.

  ‘So we ain’t coming back,’ Joan said tremulously. ‘Not ever?’

  Ole Smithy had seen the mixture of fear and expectation in their eyes and hating what she saw, wished she could do something to alleviate it.

  ‘Why don’t you go and look at the atlas?’ she suggested. She wanted them out of the kitchen, so she could forget their dismay. She had thought it right to tell them, but now she had, she wanted to turn away from their confusion and leave it for someone else to sort out.

  They found Sheila in the playroom and they told her where Carrabunna was. She opened the old atlas and found Australia on the far side of the world.

  ‘Well,’ she said, snapping the atlas closed, ‘roll on Sunday. We ain’t coming back from there.’

  When they arrived at Tilbury dock, the Laurel House girls stood on the quay, labels pinned to their coats, their small suitcases at their feet, an anxious group, staring in bewilderment at the people eddying round them. Other children were standing in similar groups. One, a large group of both boys and girls, was standing round a tall man wearing some sort of uniform, listening intently as he spoke to them; another, made up of boys only, was being led up the gangplank, while yet another, a small group of girls, was lining up, ready to board. Each child wore a brown identity label, each child carried one small suitcase, and all stood around not knowing where to go or what to do.

  ‘Stay here,’ Miss Vanstone ordered and leaving the girls standing with Mrs Hawkins, she bustled away to speak to the man at the foot of the gangplank.

  As they waited the girls stared up in awe at the ship towering above them. White-painted with an orange line sweeping its length and pockmarked with portholes, she was taller than any of the office buildings they had seen on their way through London. A tall funnel, standing proud above the upper decks, puffed smoke out into the summer sky, and the whole ship seemed too huge, too heavy, to stay afloat.

  ‘Are we really going on that?’ Daisy whispered to Rita.

  Rita, standing beside her with Rosie clutching her hand, peered up at the towering vessel. ‘S’pose so,’ she said. ‘It’s very big.’

  ‘Australia must be a long way away,’ said Joan, nervously.

  ‘It’s the other side of the world, stupid!’ snapped Sheila, though she too was a little shaken at the size of the ship that was to take them there.

  Miss Vanstone reappeared. ‘Come along, you girls,’ she commanded. ‘Follow me.’

  The ten girls picked up the cases that contained their worldly possessions and straggled up the gangway, the Hawk bringing up the rear. On deck there were children everywhere, some large groups, some small; some scuffling and noisy, others standing silent and forlorn shrinking away as adults struggled past them, carrying suitcases and bags.

  Miss Vanstone spoke to a crew member who directed them to a glass-fronted office, but it was nearly twenty minutes before it was their turn to be met by a harassed-looking woman in a white uniform who held a clipboard.

  ‘These are the girls from the EVER-Care Trust,’ said Miss Vanstone, passing over a list of names and a handful of passports. The woman consulted her clipboard and began ticking off names, checking the name against that on the label each girl wore on her coat. While she dealt with the paperwork, the little group of girls gazed round them.

  ‘It’s a very big ship,’ whispered Daisy. ‘Look at all those other people. Are they all coming too?’

  ‘Don’t know,’ replied Rita. ‘S’pose so.’ Her grip tightened on Rosie’s hand. ‘Stay close to me, Rosie,’ she ordered. ‘You might get lost.’

  As long as she was beside Rita, Rosie was not afraid. She looked about her at all the hustle and bustle, and asked, ‘Are we nearly at Australia now?’ Australia to Rosie could be anywhere, the next street, the next town or a million miles away.

  ‘No, course not, silly,’ snapped Sheila Nevin, overhearing the question. ‘We’re going to be on this ship for weeks and weeks.’ Sheila, as the eldest girl in the group, had assumed its leadership and for the time being the others had accepted this, all hostilities laid aside as they turned to each other in their strange new situation.

  Now they were on the ship, it made Rita realize the enormity of their journey. They would have to stick together, and fend for themselves and her job would be to look after Rosie.

  ‘Right,’ the woman in the white uniform said, ‘I’m the purser in overall charge of you children. But you have two chaperones who’ll keep an eye on you during the voyage. Miss Dauntsey and Miss Ellen Dauntsey. They’re two teachers, going to Sydney. If you have any problems they’re the first people you go to. If necessary they’ll come to me.’ She looked the little group over and said, ‘All right?’

  ‘And where are the Miss Dauntseys?’ asked Miss Vanstone, looking round.

  ‘Dealing with another group at present,’ replied the purser. ‘If you take your group into the lounge on “F” deck, they’ll come and find you there.’

  Miss Vanstone and the Hawk shepherded them to the deck above. Miss Vanstone carried the suitcases belonging to Sylvia and Susan,
and instructed the Hawk to take Rosie’s.

  They found the lounge, a wide saloon furnished with tables, chairs and several deep sofas. The evening sun flooded in through the windows, disguising the rather tired state of the furniture.

  ‘Come and sit down here,’ ordered Miss Vanstone, leading them to a table. She opened her capacious handbag and pulled out a packet of sandwiches, giving one to each child. Overawed by their surroundings, they ate in silence, and were just finishing when two young ladies crossed the room towards them.

  ‘Good afternoon,’ said one, extending her hand to Miss Vanstone. ‘These are the EVER-Care children, am I right?’

  ‘You are indeed,’ said Miss Vanstone. ‘Stand up, girls, and say good afternoon to Miss Dauntsey.’

  Obediently, they all rose to their feet and chanted, ‘Good afternoon, Miss Dauntsey.’

  ‘And this is my sister, Miss Ellen Dauntsey,’ said the first lady. ‘You may call her Miss Ellen, so that you don’t get us muddled up.’ She smiled at the forlorn-faced children, and added, ‘Cheer up, we’re off on a wonderful adventure.’

  ‘Well,’ said Miss Vanstone, picking up her bag, ‘we’ll leave you to it, Miss Dauntsey. Be good, children. Do as Miss Dauntsey tells you on the voyage. Remember, you carry the good name of Laurel House with you.’ And with that she walked out of the lounge and followed closely by the Hawk who had said no goodbyes, disappeared down the stairs. Ten pairs of eyes tracked them to the door, and then turned miserably back to the two Miss Dauntseys.

  ‘Now then,’ said Miss Ellen, speaking for the first time, ‘you know our names, so we need to know yours.’ She pointed at Rita, still holding tight to Rosie’s hand. ‘Who are you, then?’

  ‘Rita Stevens,’ replied Rita softly, ‘and this is my sister, Rosie.’

  One by one they said their names and Miss Ellen checked the labels pinned on their fronts. When they’d finished, Miss Dauntsey said, ‘You must wear your name tags for a few days, but we’ll do our best to remember which of you is which. If we get it wrong after that, you’ll have to tell us. Now, come along everyone, let’s find your cabins.’