but when she’s back everything will be all right again.’
The man opposite Daddy on the other side of the big desk nodded curtly. Betty swung her legs while the two men filled in forms and signed papers. Then Daddy lifted her up out of the seat. ‘So you’re going to have a lovely holiday here with lots of other children. And me and Mummy will come back and get you really soon.’
Betty’s bottom lip started to quiver. ‘Do I have to go? I want to stay with you.’
‘Really, really soon. I promise, little firefly. All right?’
Daddy’s eyes looked like he was about to cry. Betty rested her head on his shoulder. ‘It’s OK, Daddy.’
He took a deep breath and smiled as he set her down on the ground. ‘That’s right. You need to be very brave for me and remember that everything’s OK. I love you, but while Mummy is away, I can’t keep you with me. As soon as Mummy comes home, I’ll come back. I promise.’
The stranger ushered Daddy out of the office and Betty was alone.
A few minutes later, a lady came into the room and picked up Betty’s little case. ‘Come on.’
She followed the lady along long white corridors and into a big bedroom with lots of beds in it. The lady popped her case on one of them. ‘You’ll be here. You can put your things in here.’ She pointed at a cupboard next to the bed. ‘Quickly now. Chop-chop!’
She flicked the case open and started lifting Betty’s things into the cupboard. Betty watched. It seemed silly. She’d just have to put them all back in her case very soon when Daddy came back.
Betty couldn’t count how many days and nights she was in the home. She slept in a big room with other children. Little ones, like Betty, at one end, and bigger girls further down. She didn’t like having so many people sleeping in the same room. Some of the girls cried at night, and that made Betty want to cry too. During the day they did chores, and the bigger girls did reading. Whatever she was doing, Betty waited. She waited for Mummy and Daddy to come back and take her home. So when one of the ladies who usually looked after the little babies, came and told her to bring her coat and hat, and her little suitcase with her pyjamas and hairbrush, she thought it was time.
She climbed into the back of the car waiting outside and was surprised to find two boys, both a couple of years older than her, already sitting there. The lady sat in the front with the driver, who was the man from the office from the very first day. He looked over into the back seat and frowned when he saw Betty.
‘What’s she doing here? We’re only supposed to send white children.’
‘She’s white enough.’
‘She’s half-breed. You saw her father.’
‘I did. But they won’t. And if you didn’t know, you’d think she was white, wouldn’t you?’
The driver turned around and stared directly at Betty. ‘She’s got that hair.’
‘Well, stick it under her hat when we get there and tell her not to say anything.’
Betty patted her hair. It had tight little curls like Daddy’s but in the sunshine it looked ginger like Mummy’s. Daddy said it was special. Daddy said her hair shone like a beautiful flame.
Betty felt her stomach flip. ‘Where are we going?’
‘On an adventure.’
‘Will my mummy and daddy be there?’
The woman twisted in her seat to look at Betty. ‘Your mummy and daddy are gone. We’re sending you somewhere that you’re wanted. You’ll have a far better home than with … him. Now be quiet.’ Betty did as she was told. She stared out of the window trying to remember the places they were driving past so she could find her way back, but they drove for too long and eventually it got dark. Betty’s eyes fell closed.
When she opened them again, the car had stopped. Rain was lashing down, which meant nobody thought it was odd that the woman rammed Betty’s hat onto her head and tucked her hair away inside. ‘Come on now.’
Betty was dragged along by the woman’s tight grip on her hand. The two boys ran along behind. They were by the sea, but not the seaside like when Mummy and Daddy had taken her for a day out on the beach at Scarborough. There was no beach here, just buildings and the ships were much bigger than the fishing boats Daddy had taken her to see. The woman stopped in front of a man with a clipboard, who ticked some items off his list and then pointed them towards a metal bridge leading to the biggest ship Betty had ever seen. She couldn’t get on a ship. Ships went over the sea. If she went over the sea, Mummy and Daddy would never find her. ‘But my daddy’s coming back for me.’
The woman folded her arms. ‘You’re going somewhere much nicer. Now, on you get. Chop-chop. Off on an adventure.’
There was a sharp shove in her back and Betty had no choice but to follow the wave of tiny bodies making their way onto the boat.
Jane
Church soon became the best part of my life. On Sundays we would walk up to church. It was a beautiful old building with stone arches and a statue of Jesus at the front door. There was a routine to church, and order of things. At church, nobody would shout or point out what I was doing wrong. At church I could listen to the words of the priest and look at the pictures in the windows and above the altar. Christ on the cross. Mary with her baby. According to the priest she was kind and the most loving of mothers. In the big window she was gathering little children of all nations to her. Sometimes I wished I could step into that picture and be gathered up, safe and loved, far, far away from Mrs Reed.
Each night I knelt beside my bed, and Mrs Reed stood in the doorway and listened to my prayers. I had to thank God that I had a home with her. I had to pray for my cousins, John and Emma. I had to pray for forgiveness for all my wickedness. After Mrs Reed was gone, I always got back on my knees and prayed for my mother. The night before my seventh birthday I prayed extra hard that she would come and find me.
The next morning I got up, wondering if there would be presents on the breakfast table or if I’d have to wait until evening. Mrs Reed hadn’t asked me what I wanted to do, but I imagined a trip to the beach, like I’d done on my other birthdays, when the whole community had joined me and Mum for a picnic.
There were no presents on the breakfast table.
There was no day at the beach.
There were no presents after school, either.
At bedtime, before I knelt down to say my prayers, I took a deep breath in and asked Mrs Reed, ‘Did you know it was my birthday?’
The woman frowned, but didn’t answer my question. ‘I don’t have time for silliness like that, Jane. Go on, say your prayers.’
That night, in my head, I asked God to take me away from the Reeds.
Two weeks later, Mrs Reed came into my room before breakfast and told me to put my best clothes on because we
