The Forgotten Child: A little boy abandoned at birth. His fight for survival. A powerful true story.. R. Gallear

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The Forgotten Child: A little boy abandoned at birth. His fight for survival. A powerful true story. - R. Gallear

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I took them down the drive.

      ‘Sometimes we go for walks down to the lane,’ I said. ‘And up to the hills.’

      ‘That must be fun,’ said the woman.

      ‘Yes, we sing songs and eat sandwiches and see a man with a monkey.’

      ‘A monkey?’ asked the man. ‘A real monkey?’

      ‘Yes, he sits on the man’s shoulder when we walk past.’

      There was a pause as we came to the bramble hedge.

      ‘This is where we pick blackberries,’ I told them. ‘We have little baskets and pick the fruit to put in a crumble.’

      ‘That sounds nice,’ the woman said. ‘What’s your favourite food?’

      ‘Steak pie and gravy,’ I said, licking my lips.

      They kept on asking me questions, and I tried to be polite, but I wished they would go away and I could get back to playing. Finally, I think they gave up on me.

      I was so happy that I ran three times round the lawn before going in for tea.

      Although I didn’t want to be picked in these regular line-ups, sometimes, if they didn’t pick me, I would wonder, Why haven’t they chosen me? What’s wrong with me?

      I knew that I was getting older and would soon be too old to stay at Field House, but I didn’t want to think about that – I couldn’t quite believe it.

      My lovely, kind housemother sat me down one day.

      ‘Let’s have a talk,’ she said.

      ‘Have I done something wrong?’

      ‘No, not at all,’ she reassured me with a smile. ‘But you will soon be five, so it’s nearly time for you to leave Field House and move on,’ she explained. ‘If you don’t have a new mummy and daddy to take you out of the line next week, you will have to move to another house, maybe a house with lots of children, all much bigger and older than you.’

      I didn’t like the sound of that.

      ‘Will you come with me?’ I asked.

      ‘No, I’m afraid that wouldn’t be allowed,’ she said in her gentle voice.

      I thought about that a lot over the coming days and nights, but I couldn’t quite accept it. This was my home, the only home I had ever known. Why couldn’t I stay here? Finally, on the next line-up day, my housemother gave me some nearly-new clothes to put on.

      ‘Try and keep clean and tidy,’ she said, grinning. ‘No climbing trees today!’

      The Matron herself spoke to me after breakfast: ‘Hello, Richard. I’m glad you are looking so smart today. I’m sure you will be glad to know that we have a couple coming to see you this afternoon, so we won’t have to put you in the line for long. They will come and choose you and then I want you to be a good boy and be polite to them and get to know them while you show them round the gardens. Will you be able to do that?’ She waited expectantly with a half-smile. I’d never seen her smiling even the smallest bit before, so I tried to be brave and smile back.

      ‘Yes, all right,’ I agreed.

      So, we all lined up as usual and I was placed near the beginning this time. My housemother came out of the front door with a couple and they walked straight in my direction. This seemed very strange. They ignored all the other children and homed in on me. I suppose it must have been to do with my age and the fact that the staff wanted me to go to a family home, rather than a larger children’s home, so they thought they were doing this for the right reasons. I thought so too, as I was frightened of the idea of all the big boys there might be at the children’s home.

      The couple walked over and stopped in front of me, just as Matron had said.

      ‘This is Richard,’ said the housemother. ‘He’s a happy boy and likes playing in the garden.’ She turned to me and introduced them. ‘This is Mr and Mrs Gallear,’ she told me. ‘Will you take them for a walk and show them round our gardens? They want to know all about you and the things you like.’

      ‘All right,’ I nodded uncertainly.

      The woman was very short and she had a big smile. She seemed really pleased to be there and to see me. But the man wasn’t smiling. He stood back, towering over her.

      ‘Come on,’ she said in a friendly voice, taking my hand in hers. ‘My name is Pearl and Mr Gallear is called Arnold. Now, where will you take us first?’

      As I walked out of the line, I looked back over my shoulder at all my friends, who watched me go away from them, across the lawn with these visitors – still strangers to me.

      ‘Would you like to see the vegetable garden?’ I asked them. ‘I love watching things grow in the garden.’

      ‘Yes, that would be lovely,’ Mrs Gallear said in a bright voice. ‘Wouldn’t it, Arnold?’

      He grunted, with a slight nod and followed as I led his wife to the path.

      ‘That’s the boys’ dormitory.’ I pointed through the long window as we passed by. ‘I sleep next to this window.’

      ‘That’s nice,’ said Mrs Gallear. ‘How many of you are there?’

      ‘Ten of us,’ I replied. ‘All boys.’

      When we reached the vegetable garden, I picked up a small can and watered a row of newly planted seeds. ‘These will be lettuces,’ I said proudly. ‘I helped the gardener sow the seeds.’

      ‘Well done,’ said Mrs Gallear with a beaming smile. ‘We have a garden at home. Maybe you could come and grow some lettuces in our garden too?’

      ‘Maybe,’ I agreed, looking sideways at Mr Gallear, unsure whether he wanted me doing anything in his garden.

      As we wandered among the rows of vegetables, I looked at each of the visitors in turn. Pearl Gallear was small and slight, with short, dark grey, curly hair, though I don’t think she was very old. She wore glasses, a flowery dress and a long coat over the top. The thing I liked best about her was her smile. Thinking back now, it was a warm, genuine smile – I felt she really liked me.

      Arnold Gallear had a serious face. He wore black-framed glasses and looked awfully tall to me, well-built but not much hair. It was only later, when he bent over to pick up a coin and put it in his pocket, that I saw the funny thing he’d done with his hair: he had a big bald spot and he’d combed thin strands of his light brown hair over the bald part. I longed for it to be windy and blow it all away.

      ‘Do you like vegetables?’ asked Pearl.

      ‘Yes, we have lovely vegetables every day with our lunch.’

      ‘Lucky you!’ she said with a tinkling laugh. ‘What other foods do you like?’

      ‘Steak pie,’ I said. ‘And puddings and gravy

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