The Little Runaways. Cathy Sharp

’ome?’

      ‘We can’t go home, love,’ Nancy said, and put her arm round his thin shoulders, pulling him close in an effort to inject some warmth into them both.

      ‘Why not?’ He tugged at her arm. ‘I want me ma …’

      ‘Don’t you remember what happened?’ she asked him. Terry shook his head and Nancy bit her lip, because he surely couldn’t have forgotten the terrifying events that had led them to flee the house as it was burning. Nancy had such terrible pictures in her head of the door of their parents’ room. It had been blazing by the time she’d reached the landing and saw her brother staring wide-eyed at the door. She’d known immediately that it was impossible to reach them, and as Terry started to scream, Nancy had seized him and pulled him down the stairs, grabbing coats and a hunk of bread that had been left on the table earlier. There just hadn’t been time to bring anything else; besides, there was never much food in the house.

      ‘We shan’t talk about it then, Terry.’ What was she going to do? Nancy hadn’t thought past their escape from the fire, but now after several days hiding in a disused shed on the Docks, and eating only the scraps of food that she could beg from a night watchman, she was beginning to realise they couldn’t stay here for much longer.

      ‘Nance, me stomach hurts …’ Terry whined, and rubbed grubby fingers at his face. ‘I want ter go ’ome …’

      ‘Shush … someone is coming,’ Nance hissed at him. She clutched hold of her brother’s arm as the door was opened and a large man in working clothes entered. She’d thought no one came near this place, and that they were safe from discovery because the Dock workers were still having their Christmas break. ‘Let me do the talking, Terry. Don’t say anything but agree with whatever I say.’

      ‘What ’ave we got ’ere then?’ the man said, and frowned as Nancy pushed her brother behind her.

      ‘We’re not doing any harm, mister,’ she said defensively. ‘We’ve got nowhere to go …’

      ‘Why aren’t you at ’ome?’ he asked, and then his frown cleared. ‘I reckon you’re them kids the coppers ’ave been lookin’ for … the ones whose folks got burned in the fire.’

      ‘What’s ’e mean, Nance?’ Terry pulled at her arm and she saw a flicker of fear in his eyes. ‘Where’s Ma? What’s ’e mean they got burned?’

      ‘My brother doesn’t remember anything, mister,’ Nancy said, though she remembered all too well. ‘We didn’t know what to do when we ran away … it all happened so fast. We had to leave quick and I couldn’t help them …’ A choking cry broke from her. ‘I had to get Terry out …’

      ‘Yes, o’ course yer did,’ he said soothingly.

      ‘I didn’t know where to go …’ Nancy was poised ready to flee, though she knew there was nowhere she could go, because they were both filthy, cold and near to starving.

      ‘Well, I reckon the coppers will know what to do,’ he said gruffly and kneeled down beside them. ‘You can’t stay here or you’ll freeze – tell me, ’ave yer had anythin’ ter eat today?’ Nancy shook her head. ‘You come along of me then, and I’ll sort yer out … no need to be frightened, nipper. I ain’t goin’ ter ’urt yer.’ He reached out towards the boy.

      Terry pulled back from the man, looking wildly from side to side, as if he wanted to escape, but Nancy took a firm hold on his arm. ‘Come on, love,’ she said. ‘We haven’t got a choice. You’ll be all right, I promise.’

      ‘Constable Sallis won’t ’urt yer,’ the man said. ‘I reckon as he’ll be right glad ter find yer …’

      ‘Well, here you are then, Sister, our little runaways,’ Constable Sallis said. ‘I told you the other day that we feared the pair of them might be dead in the fire, but they’d run away because they were frightened and they were found down at the Docks, hiding in one of the sheds. One of the Dockers discovered them late yesterday afternoon on his way home and brought them to the station. We’ve kept them there overnight.’

      ‘What are their names?’ Sister asked, glancing towards the children, who were at that moment being cared for by Nan, St Saviour’s head carer.

      ‘Terry and Nancy Johnson,’ he replied. ‘Amazingly, neither of them was burned or had any ill effects … well, not physical. The boy seems terrified and screamed when I tried to touch him earlier, but that is natural enough. The girl is older and she says she was in the kitchen when she smelled smoke. She rushed upstairs to find her brother and dragged him out of bed and downstairs, and finally out of the house through the back yard – that’s why he’s in his pyjamas and his mother’s coat …’

      ‘We’ll soon sort them some clothes out,’ Sister Beatrice said. ‘How long were they missing?’

      ‘Well, the fire must have started some time on New Year’s Eve – and here we are 9th of January. I think one of the night watchmen gave them some food. They weren’t lost long enough for them to become really ill or to pick up lice anyway.’

      ‘I dare say they need a nice bath and some good food,’ Sister said. ‘You did right to bring them straight here, Constable. We’ll look after them now.’

      ‘I’ll get off then,’ he said. ‘It’s bad news about their parents – the fire started in a locked bedroom and neither of them got out, I’m afraid. Terrible time of year to find themselves orphans and homeless, isn’t it?’

      ‘I doubt it matters what time of year something like that happens,’ Sister said wryly, and he shook his head as he went off.

      Sister Beatrice went over to Nan. ‘I’ll just take a look at them and then you can pop them in the bath … the boy first …’ Nan turned to try to help Terry get undressed, but he kicked out at her and backed away, his eyes rolling wildly.

      ‘Don’t yer touch me …’

      ‘You have to be examined and then have a bath,’ Sister told them. ‘It’s just routine, Terry.’

      ‘Nance, don’t let them ’urt me,’ he cried, and clung to his sister.

      ‘It’s all right, love,’ his sister said. ‘We’ve got to do what they say for now, Terry – and they won’t hurt you.’ She turned to Nan with a look of appeal in her eyes as she removed the coat and pyjama top. ‘Please, let me help him. He’s used to me.’

      ‘If you wish,’ Nan said, ‘but Sister needs to make sure he doesn’t have …’

      Her words were left unfinished as she saw the marks on the child’s torso where he had obviously been beaten recently.

      ‘Who did that to him?’ Sister asked, shocked by the sight of his thin body and bruised flesh. She’d seen children in this condition often enough, but this was a particularly severe beating by the looks of it.

      ‘No one,’ Nancy said quickly. ‘He fell over and hurt himself – at the dockyard, after we ran away because of the fire.’ Nancy looked at Terry urgently. ‘That night I sent Terry to bed with a hot drink and then I went down and cleaned the kitchen … and then I smelled the smoke …’ She caught her breath and put her arms protectively around her brother. ‘Everything was blazing upstairs. I just grabbed him and we ran away …’

      ‘Yes, so Constable Sallis told me,’ Sister said. ‘Well, that was a brave thing to do, to go upstairs to rescue your brother when the fire must have been very strong – so I suppose you can be left to bath him. Just let me look at you, child. I promise I shan’t hurt you.’

      ‘You’re quite safe here,’ Nan told him, and looked kindly at Terry as he reluctantly submitted to Sister’s brief examination.

      ‘Caught you!’ Sally Rush gave a little scream and turned swiftly as she felt the hands on her waist. She was looking into the face of the man she loved but had not seen since Christmas Eve. He’d