The Little Runaways. Cathy Sharp

to the home and it was just about at bursting point. Angela knew that Sister Beatrice was impatient for the new wing to be ready, but although the builders had promised to be out by the end of this month, it looked as if they might not be finished for weeks yet. Angela would have to do what she could to hurry them up.

      Entering the ward quietly, Angela saw a girl of slight build, perhaps thirteen or fourteen years of age, sitting on the edge of one of the beds. She had fine fair hair and was talking softly to the boy in the bed, stroking his much darker hair, her voice gentle and comforting.

      ‘Was it ’cos the door was locked, Nance?’ he asked, his eyes wide and scared. ‘I can’t remember … was it my fault … did I do something bad …?’

      ‘No, of course not, love,’ she murmured. ‘Pa was a brute – what he did to us both … He made it happen – it wasn’t your fault—’ Suddenly, she broke off and turned her head to look at Angela, a look of fear in her soft grey eyes. ‘Who are you?’

      ‘I’m Angela Morton. I work here, in the office, and sometimes help out with our children. I’ve been asked to see that you and your brother are safe and have all you need …’

      ‘Thank you,’ the girl said, and the fear in her eyes lessened, though Angela sensed hesitation in her. ‘Terry was having a bad dream – about our ma and pa …’

      ‘You’re Nancy, aren’t you?’

      ‘Yes, miss,’ she said, her eyes never leaving Angela’s face, almost as if she were trying to assess her, to see if she could be trusted. ‘I’m the eldest, almost fourteen. Terry is only ten; eleven in September. He’s usually as good as gold but …’

      ‘Yes, of course. We do understand what you’ve been through, Nancy. I hear you were a very brave girl. You should be proud of yourself for saving your brother’s life. It must have been terrifying to go back upstairs when the fire was raging.’

      ‘I had to, miss. It wasn’t his fault that the fire started – Pa was drunk. He must have knocked over the lamp and not noticed what he’d done. He was always getting drunk, miss, and Ma wasn’t much better. They locked Terry in his room and went out drinking together that night. Terry didn’t have any supper and he was crying but Pa had the key in his jacket pocket, and after they came back drunk, I unlocked the door and gave Terry a drop of tea and a crust of bread and jam … I was still in the kitchen clearing up the mess they’d made when the fire started. I heard Terry scream and went up and dragged him down the stairs. He just stood there staring …’

      Nancy’s voice had risen, and she seemed on the verge of hysteria herself. ‘Terry shouted to Ma but their door was locked to keep us out and they either didn’t hear or they were too drunk … I couldn’t get them out, because the door was blazing – it was too late.’ Her voice broke on a sob of despair. ‘Too late …’

      Angela could see that the girl was suffering from delayed shock herself. ‘It was a terrible tragedy, Nancy. No one blames you or your brother for what happened. You got your brother out, and you tried to save your parents too.’

      Nancy’s gaze veered away, seeming to look into the distance. ‘Yes, miss, that’s what the policeman said. The firemen tried to get in but they couldn’t reach them; the stairs were all afire by then and no one could get to the bedrooms that way. When they got in through the window, they were dead from the smoke. We ran away because we didn’t know what to do – and Terry said Ma was screamin’ but I didn’t hear her. I think it’s just in his head, ’cos he loved Ma. It wasn’t our fault …’

      Nancy was so intense. Angela reached for her hand and pressed it reassuringly. ‘I am quite certain it was not, Nancy. As you said, your father probably knocked his oil lamp over and didn’t notice because he was drunk. Fire spreads so quickly in old houses and by the time the fire service came it was too late. I am so sorry for all you and your brother have suffered.’

      ‘Yes, miss, thank you, miss,’ Nancy said and rubbed at her eyes. ‘I don’t want to lose Terry, miss. He’s all I’ve got now – and it’s always been the two of us …’

      ‘I’m sure you love him. He will be quite safe with us, I promise you. In time he will stop being so afraid and then he will realise that we are here to help children who have lost their homes. Do you have any other relatives?’

      ‘No, miss, not that I know of. They mostly died in the Blitz. Me ma once spoke of her cousin in the country, but she never come to see us …’ Tears welled in Nancy’s eyes. ‘Ma didn’t deserve to die. She did what she could for us until she got bad. Pa spent all he earned on drink and she gave us most of her food. I wanted to save her, miss. Truly I did, but the flames were so hot I couldn’t get near the door …’

      Angela handed her a clean white handkerchief. ‘Wipe your eyes and blow your nose, Nancy. I am quite sure you did what you could for your mother and your father. It isn’t your fault. They were the adults; it was their job to keep you safe in your own home – no one will blame either of you.’

      ‘Will that Sister Beatrice let us stay here if Terry keeps screaming and being wild? She was very cross when he fought the nurses who tried to give him a bath. The only person he trusts near him is me.’

      ‘Why is that, Nancy?’ Angela asked, but the girl just shook her head. Clearly she didn’t want to talk about it, and it was too soon to press for details, although Angela suspected that the bruises on Terry’s body might have been inflicted by his father and not a tramp. No doubt Nancy would tell them the truth when she was ready.

      ‘I’ve always cared for him.’

      ‘The nurses have to make sure you don’t have anything infectious when you come – but perhaps Sister will let you stay here in this ward until he is more himself.’

      ‘Will you ask her if we can stay here together, miss? Sometimes, he wets the bed, and he walks in his sleep. If I’m not there to take him back to bed he might … hurt himself.’

      ‘Yes, I can see that,’ Angela said. She thought privately that Terry was a very disturbed child and might benefit from Mark Adderbury’s attention. Mark specialised in helping mistreated children in his spare time from his busy practice. Sister Beatrice relied on the help and advice he gave freely. ‘I’m sure you can stay in here for a while, just until we can sort something out …’

      ‘Thanks, miss. You’re kind.’ Nancy sniffed into the handkerchief and then offered it back.

      ‘You keep it for a while; you must have lost everything in the fire. I know St Saviour’s provides new clothes, but is there anything I can get for you that you need?’

      ‘Terry had a teddy bear he used to take to bed, but it was left behind when we escaped. It might have helped him to sleep …’

      ‘I can’t give him back the one he lost, but I do have my own very old and much-loved bear, if you think he would like that?’

      ‘You’d really let us have it?’

      ‘Yes,’ Angela said. ‘I’ll bring it tomorrow – and I’ve got a few pretty things you might like, Nancy. A case to put hankies in, and a brush and comb for your hair – and some satin ribbon to tie it up. You’ve got nice fair hair and it curls naturally.’

      Nancy blushed, the tears glistening on her lashes, but she didn’t cry. Terry had been lying in the bed, just staring up at her, but now his eyes closed and Nancy smiled.

      ‘I think he will sleep now, miss. Shall we see you tomorrow?’

      ‘Yes. I shall be in and out this evening, just to make sure you’re both all right. I can get you a mug of cocoa to help you get off to sleep if you like?’

      ‘No, miss, I’m all right. I’m going to get into bed with Terry so that if he wakes again he won’t start screaming and wake everyone.’

      ‘Well, make sure you get out before the morning staff come on duty – they might not approve of you sleeping in his bed.’