cried out as a nurse whisked him away before he totally frightened the rest of the children.
Marjorie was the second to last to go in. The waiting made her so tense that her breakfast was in danger of coming back up. Why were they doing this? She nearly fainted as the nurse jabbed and stuck her with the needles, but her tears stayed stuck behind her eyes. The doctor prodded, poked, and looked down her throat and then in her ears, asking questions all the while, and then the ordeal was over. The last girl in line looked at Marjorie’s face as she came out, “Oh, Marjorie, was it really awful?” Marjorie was unable to answer and she simply nodded her head.
Restlessness was in the air as the morning dragged on. It was hard for the children to sit patiently and wait. Marjorie saw Kenny slumped in a corner. He looked sad and it was obvious that he was trying not to cry.
“Leave him alone,” she warned a group of boys who had been bullying him. But they asked her what was she going to do about it. Marjorie felt powerless as she stuck out her tongue at them. She knew that Kenny would have to put up with the bullying. It was impossible for her to protect him. How had Joyce managed so easily? She worried that she would not be as good as her big sister at looking out for Kenny, but she would try to do her best.
A nurse walked into the waiting room and clapped her hands. She announced that everyone should be all set to go now. They would be leaving shortly but first they would have an early lunch, and she passed around sandwiches and a bottle of milk for each one.
Four adults were to travel with the children. Mr. E.S. Healy, headmaster of the Fairbridge farm school in Western Australia, and Mrs. Healy, who were returning to Australia via Canada, would accompany the children to Vancouver, British Columbia. Two other specially trained women would also travel as chaperones for the children until they reached Montreal. Once they landed in Montreal, two new chaperones would travel with them across Canada to their final destination.
As they left Canada House, the children could once more see the tall statue at Trafalgar Square. A coolness in the air made them shiver and droplets of rain formed little dark spots on their cases. The walk back across Trafalgar Square differed from the previous walk such a short time ago. Now, at twenty-eight children, their numbers had more than doubled from the thirteen sent down from the Middlemore Home. Each child carried a suitcase. Twenty-eight arms ached from their jabs. No one climbed on the lions today. There was no happy chatter. The “little soldiers” solemnly marched across the square and headed for the Underground. This train would take them to Euston Station, where they would catch the train to Liverpool. A few appeared eager for the journey, but Marjorie was not one of them. She longed to be with her sisters. No one asked her if she wanted to go away. She felt afraid. She wanted Joyce.
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