style="font-size:15px;"> They had lots to eat at Newcastle. Still, Marjorie wanted to go home. She wanted her mum. She would rather be hungry and be with her. Homesickness and fear were leaving little room for anything else inside.
Sister interrupted Marjorie’s thoughts as she yelled for the children to come along and not dally. As they plodded up the road, above them the low thick clouds made the early afternoon an eerie darkness. The light drizzle was turning to slush, and then to snow. The cold crept in and threatened to create a mutiny among the children. Audrey sat down and refused to walk anymore. Joyce pleaded for her to get up, telling her that she was getting all wet. But Audrey would not budge. Joyce reached down, picked her little sister up, and tried to carry her, but she was too heavy. When, after a short distance, she put her down, Audrey just stood, stubbornly refusing to move. Joyce pulled at her, trying her best to get her sister to keep walking. Kenny piped up and told her that the bogeyman will get her, or maybe Jack the Ripper! His warning had the desired effect. Audrey squealed and looked behind her. She demanded that they stop teasing her, but she walked on, keeping close to Joyce, just in case.
They turned down a little lane. At the end was a tall church spire. As they approached the church, they veered off on a smaller path. Marjorie read the sign by the church fence: THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND, ST. MARY’S PARISH CHURCH, SELLY OAK. Sister announced, with noticeable relief in her voice, “We are almost there.”
The children peered through the falling snowflakes at what was to be their new home. Snow sticking to the ground around the grim grey building made the dreary scene look even more uninviting. It was so much bigger than their Rockcliffe School. Joyce whispered that it looked like a hospital. They walked along the side of the building to the main entrance and followed quietly into the building. Shaking the rain and snow from her coat, Sister whispered, “Now you four better be on your best behaviour, or else.”
Marjorie hoped that Sister would leave right away. They were supposed to call her Sister but she was not their sister, and Marjorie did not even like her. It was easy to see that she did not like them either. She always yelled at them for no reason, and that made Marjorie nervous. It angered her that during lunch Sister kept all the soft inside parts of the bread and passed the hard, burnt crusts to them. Their mum would never do that. They shared everything and if there was not enough, their mum would divide her share too. But it was more than that. It was the little things. She missed her mum’s smile and her warm eyes. Sister’s eyes were icy-cold, just like the snowflakes.
Joyce, Audrey, and Marjorie returned to the Middlemore Emigration Home in Selly Oak, Birmingham, in August 2001, over sixty years after they had been placed there. The top floor of the wing on the left of the photograph was the girl’s dormitory. The building was demolished circa 2005.
Photo by Patricia Skidmore.
The group followed cautiously into the foyer. The hallway, which travelled the entire length of the building, bustled with children. Kenny, curious as ever, started to explore, but Sister grabbed him by the collar and pushed him ahead of her, motioning for the girls to come along. They stood on the threshold of a large office. A lamp lit the desk but cast eerie shadows over the rest of the room. As their eyes adjusted to the light, they were drawn to a rather large man sitting behind the desk. He did not look up but continued to write in his notebook. Smoke from his pipe disappeared into the darkness above his head.
Sister cleared her throat and excused herself, telling the man that she had the four children from the Fairbridge Dean Street office in Newcastle. As she handed him an envelope, he put his pen down and looked up at her and then at the envelope. Sister whispered, “You were expecting us, weren’t you?” Her meek voice caused Marjorie to look up and stare at her.
Without a word, he took the envelope and pulled out its contents.
“Please, sir,” the Sister implored, “everything is in order, I hope.”
He puffed away on his pipe as he looked through the papers without answering her. At one point, he gazed up over his spectacles and stared long and hard at each child. His bushy furrowed eyebrows, along with the pipe smoke curling up past his nose, had Marjorie struggling to contain a fit of the giggles.
Sister hissed through her teeth for the children to stand up straight and to be polite. Marjorie choked back a giggle just in time. She concentrated on paying attention and tried not to move about, but it was not easy. Edgy nerves were hard to control. Looking at one spot sometimes helped, so in desperation she looked at the floor by her feet. Her shoes were leaking and her coat was leaving a circle of little droplets. The two puddles ran together and disappeared under the desk. She longed for her mum. The room was hot and stuffy. A strange feeling came over her, starting with a tingling in her scalp and snaked its way down to her toes. The room swayed. His voice intruded into Marjorie’s world of worries when he announced that everything appeared to be in order and said to take them away now.
“Come along with me.” The children had not noticed the woman in a white uniform somewhat like a nurse would wear standing behind them. When the children remained fast to their spots, she urged them to follow her. She chatted kindly to them suggesting that they must be tired after their long journey. She pointed to a rather large cupboard in the hallway, lined with rows of hooks and told them to hang their wet coats there. As they did so, they were told that, first, she would quickly show them around the home and then they could get out of their wet shoes and socks. She told them to call her Nurse and asked them for their names.
She had a nice voice, even if the girls had a hard time understanding exactly what she said. Joyce spoke first, “I’m Joyce, and this is Marjorie and Audrey. We’re sisters and Kenny is our brother.”
Nurse smiled and said, “Well, I’m pleased to meet you. Let’s go this way.” She started walking towards the centre of the building. When the girls looked back for Kenny, they saw Sister leaving the office and marching quickly towards the door. Marjorie said good riddance under her breath. Nurse turned and asked, “Pardon me?” but Marjorie stammered that it was nothing, she was just wondering about Kenny that was all.
“The boy’s nurse will show him to his dorm. He’ll be fine. You don’t need to worry about him.” The tears in Kenny’s eyes moved down his cheeks as she escorted him away. The separation in Newcastle had terrified him, and now it was happening again. Joyce knew she would not be able to help him much, but she boldly questioned where they were taking their brother. Nurse assured the sisters that he would be looked after. She hurried the girls along, and told them that it would soon be teatime.
Marjorie commented on the number of children who were visible as they walked down the halls. She asked if they all lived here or were they getting ready to go home after school. Nurse told them that they had quite a large family at Middlemore and that all the children belonged at the home. She explained that they do not have their school classes here but go out to the local schools during the day. They climbed up the middle stairs and turned down a hallway. Nurse pointed out the dining hall where they should go for their tea when the bell rang. As they walked on into a warm steamy kitchen, Nurse said, “Cook, we have three new girls.”
Over the stove stood a rather stout short woman, wearing an apron that was smudged across her middle. She stood on her tiptoes and steadied herself with one hand on the counter’s edge while in the other hand she held a wooden spoon that seemed to disappear inside a rather large pot. Cook shouted a jolly greeting at the girls as she stirred.
“Agnes, Betty, and Margaret, these are the new girls — Joyce, Marjorie, and Audrey. I expect you to make sure they settle in and help them out if they need it.” The three young kitchen helpers stopped cleaning up potato peelings to stare at the newcomers.
“Yes,
