Lily was having her second cup of tea when the letter plopped through her letter box. It lay on the mat, face down. Stooping stiffly, Lily picked it up and looked at it. It was from abroad, as far as she could tell without her spectacles. The stamps didn’t look English, though they had the king’s head on them. Puzzled she carried it back into the kitchen and put on her glasses. The king was on the stamps, but underneath was the word AUSTRALIA. Lily stared at it. Who could be writing to her from Australia? Then she looked at the handwriting. For a moment she felt light-headed, and she sat down hard on a chair. In a childish hand, but carefully written, the letter was addressed to Mrs Lily Sharples, here in Hampton Road, and the handwriting was Rita’s. Lily recognized it at once. Rita’s writing. But Rita wasn’t in Australia; she and Rosie had been adopted by a couple here in England, a couple from ‘up north’. How could Rita be writing to her from Australia?
With a shaking hand, Lily ripped the envelope open, and confirmed that it was signed, ‘Lots of love from Rita’. She turned back to the beginning and began to read.
Dear Gran,
I got your letter the other day. Thank you for writing to me to tell me you are better. I am glad you ain’t in horspidal no more and your leg has got better.
Then there were a few lines crossed out so darkly that Lily couldn’t make out anything. Then Rita’s handwriting again.
We come here by ship and it took more than six weeks. The ship was lovely and we had a good time on board. The food was lovely. Lots of times the weather was very hot. We learned to swim in the pool on the ship.
We saw lots of places on the way, but we wasn’t aloud get off the ship.
Another line blacked out.
When we landed we come to this home.
More scratching out. Lily began to be angry. Rita had written to her to tell her where she was, and what was happening to her, but someone must have read the letter after it had been written and censored it.
Just like in the war, thought Lily. Why would they do that? How dare they? What harm was it to write a letter to your grandmother?
She went on with the letter, but it was soon apparent that a whole page was missing. The last page began in the middle of a sentence,
to school here and I am here with some of the girls who came from Laurel House. It was cold when we arrived, because it was winter here, not like England. Spring has come now and it is a bit warmer.
There were several more lines crossed out and then just one line at the end.
Lots of love from Rita xx
Lily read and re-read the letter, her consternation growing by the minute. It was clear that Rita had received her letter, but it had followed her to Australia. Miss Vanstone had said that the two girls had been adopted together. Had their adoptive parents decided to move to Australia? Were they still together? Rita hadn’t mentioned Rosie once. Why not? What had happened to her? Had she written about her on the page that was missing? Lily looked at the letter again. There was no return address and no date. How long ago had it been written? She picked up the envelope and studied the postmark, but it was smudged, most of it was unintelligible, the only part she could make out was NSW. What or where was NSW? Lily didn’t know. Her grasp of geography was hazy, but she was determined to find out. She’d go to the library and look it up in an atlas. The postmark was a definite clue and one that couldn’t be censored by someone the other end before the letter was sent. Switching on the table lamp, Lily held the paper to the light, trying to see if she could make out any of the censored part of the letter, but it was impossible. Whoever had read Rita’s letter had been determined to obliterate whatever it was that she’d written and had used Indian ink.
If they were going to black so much of it out, Lily wondered, why did they send it at all?
All the way through Rita had written ‘we’ but hadn’t mentioned Rosie. Surely Rosie must have gone with her. But then, Lily thought, Rita also said that there were other girls from Laurel House, so perhaps she meant them when she said ‘we’.
And if she’s with a load of girls from Laurel House, and living in this home wherever it is, thought Lily suddenly, then she ain’t been adopted. She’s just been sent out there to another home. Just been got rid of ’cos she caused trouble.
Lily felt the anger rising up inside her, a fireball of fury, as she realized that she’d been duped and lied to… that they’d all been duped and lied to. Surely even Mavis wouldn’t have given her permission for her children to be sent to the other side of the world. Lily got to her feet, gripping the table as she fought for her balance. She felt giddy with rage, her little girls, Rita and Rosie, aged nine and five, had been posted off to Australia without so much as a by-your-leave from the family. Surely Mavis didn’t know. Did Jimmy Randall know? Had he arranged it all? What about that fat pig of a woman, that Children’s Officer? Did she know where they were going when she took them back to Laurel House?
Calm down, Lily told herself, calm down. This is getting you nowhere. She forced herself to sit down again and think rationally. ‘Think it all through,’ she said aloud, ‘then you can decide what you’re going to do about it.’
She squeezed another cup of tea from the pot and considered what to do. Were there any clues in the letter that she’d missed? She picked it up and read it yet again. All the points she’d already noticed came into sharp focus. No mention of Rosie. ‘We.’ Who’s we? ‘We come to this home’, no mention of a family, or adoptive parents, so adoption was unlikely. NSW. She thought about the postmark. What did NSW mean? Carrie’s John worked for the post office, he might know.
Lily found a pencil and paper and began making a list, a plan of campaign to find her missing granddaughters.
1. Talk to John about postmark.
2. Make sure of all the facts.
3. Go to Laurel House and demand explanation.
4. Go and see the Children’s Officer woman.
5. Write to the Children’s Committee?
6. Find out whether Mavis knows.
7. Tell her if not.
Lily looked at her list. It was a start. She got to her feet again and went slowly back upstairs to get dressed. It was Saturday, so she’d probably find John and Carrie at home. She got washed and dressed, her mind churning with the possibilities, and then, all of a sudden, she began to weep. Slumping down on her bed, she clutched her pillow to her and began to sob, her whole body shaking with grief and despair. Little girls, such little girls. How could anyone send children that age to the other side of the world? How could anyone be so cruel?
Lily looked at the picture John had taken of the girls at the wedding, beaming at the camera, and the ache in her heart was a physical pain. Australia. No one ever came back from Australia. She would never see them again. Lily wept for a long time, great sobs racking her body.
Later, much later, when her tears had run dry, and with stiffened resolve, she finished dressing. Pull yerself together, woman, she told herself firmly. Crying ain’t going to help no one. With new determination, she put on her coat, and walked round to Ship Street, not to see Mavis but to visit the Maunders.
Carrie was surprised to see her, but she said, ‘You looking for Mavis?’
‘No,’ replied Lily, ‘it’s your John I want a word with. Is he in?’
‘No, John’s at the Lion for his pint,’ Carrie replied, putting the kettle on the stove. ‘But I ’spect he’ll be back soon if you want to wait.’
When John came home, he found Lily and Carrie in the kitchen.
‘I’ve come to pick your brains,’ Lily said, ‘if you don’t mind.’
‘Pick away,’ said John. ‘How can I help?’
‘I’ve had a letter.’ Lily showed him the envelope. ‘I can’t read the postmark, and I wondered if you could tell me where it come from.’
John took the envelope and studied it. ‘It’s from Australia,’ he said at length. ‘Some place in New South Wales.’
‘New South Wales!’ echoed Lily. ‘So that’s somewhere in Australia?’
‘It’s a big area,’ John said. ‘The name of the town’s the smudged bit.’ He looked up enquiringly. ‘Who’s it from then, Mrs S? Who’s writing to you from Australia?’
‘Rita.’
‘Rita!’ echoed Carrie. ‘Rita’s in Australia? Does Mavis know?’
‘Don’t know,’ Lily shrugged, ‘but I don’t think so. She’d never let them be took that far away, would she?’
‘No, course she wouldn’t,’ said John, trying to sound reassuring. ‘She’ll be real upset when she hears.’
‘What’s Mav going to say when you tell her?’
‘I ain’t going to tell her, not yet,’ stated Lily. ‘I got to find out exactly what’s happened to them girls before we say anything to Mavis, right? I know you’re her best friend, Carrie, but please don’t tell her. Don’t even say I’ve been here. Please.’
‘No, all right,’ agreed Carrie. ‘D’you think it was Jimmy what sent them? You know, wanted them right out of the way?’
‘Don’t know,’ said Lily. ‘I went round the home looking for them, didn’t I? Said I wanted them back, that they could live with me, just like before. And this woman, the one what runs the place, she said that Rita and Rosie was adopted and had moved away.’
‘Did she say where they was taken to?’ asked Carrie.
Lily shook her head. ‘Just that it was “up north”. I asked to see them but she said it’d unsettle them again. She wouldn’t even give me an address to write to. Just said if I wrote one last letter, she’d send it on.’
‘And did you?’ John asked. ‘Did you write to them?’
‘On the spot,’ replied Lily. ‘The woman give me some paper and a pen, and I wrote to them there and then.’
‘And she addressed it and sent it on.’
‘S’pose so. Rita got it, didn’t she?’
Lily had been wondering about that. Clearly Miss Vanstone had forwarded the letter as promised, but perhaps she’d broken the other part of her promise and had read it herself first. Perhaps she had crossed out bits she didn’t want Rita to read. Lily thought back over the letter she’d written. Was there anything that Miss Vanstone might have thought it necessary to censor? No, all she’d written was that she was out of hospital and getting better. She’d wished them well with their new family and said she loved them and would never forget them. Perhaps, if the woman knew they weren’t being adopted into a family, she might have blacked out that bit.
‘Anyway,’ Lily said, ‘I’m going to go to that Laurel House and face that woman for the liar she is.’
‘Will it do any good?’ wondered Carrie.
‘No.’ Lily’s shoulders sagged. ‘Probably not, but I have to try.’
‘Still, she might give you the address now that you know they’ve gone,’ suggested John more optimistically. ‘So’s you can write back.’
Lily thanked them for their help and got to her feet, quite as determined as before to tackle Miss Vanstone at Laurel House.
When she got home again she lit the fire. It was extravagant, she knew, but sitting alone, she felt cold through to her bones.
How strange, she thought as she poked the fire into life, that here I am, freezing cold, on a dark November evening, and where Rita is it’s warming up for summer. Thousands of miles away. Thousands of miles from home.
How she got through that Sunday, Lily wasn’t sure. Much as she wanted to rush over to Laurel House and confront Miss Vanstone with her duplicity, it was Miss Vanstone she needed to see, not that other woman, and Miss Vanstone didn’t live there.
‘Want to speak to the organ-grinder, not the bloody monkey,’ she announced to her kitchen, as she rehearsed what she intended to say.
Monday morning dawned cold and wet. Lily opened her curtains to a grey drizzle that drifted from the sky, enveloping the houses across the street in shifting mist. It was an outlook that chimed with her mood, grey and dismal. She dressed with care. Today she’d go back to Laurel House and she wanted the Vanstone woman to know that she was respectable and had all her wits about her; that she wasn’t a common, ill-educated woman who could be fobbed off again. Today she wasn’t going to be misled, lied to or patronized.
Laurel House was silent when Lily arrived, it, too, shrouded in the grey mist of the dull November day. She rang the bell and waited. After several minutes, the door opened and a young girl of about fourteen peered out at her. Not the girl who’d opened the door to her before; this one was smaller, had reddish hair and a pale, freckled face.
‘Can I help you?’ she whispered.
Lily was about to ask for Miss Vanstone when she hesitated. Perhaps this girl had known Rita and Rosie, and something could be learned from her, before anyone had the chance to shut her up.
Lily smiled at her. ‘Hallo,’ she said. ‘I’m Rita and Rosie Stevens’ gran. Do you think I can see them?’
The girl stared at her in wide-eyed consternation and then said, ‘They ain’t here.’
‘No?’ Lily affected surprise. ‘Where are they, then?’
‘Don’t know, miss, they went away.’
‘What’s your name?’ Lily asked gently.
‘Pamela, miss,’ said the girl, glancing fearfully over her shoulder.
‘Well, Pamela, I’m trying to find Rita and Rosie. I’m their granny and I wondered if you, or any of the other girls know where they went.’
‘The other girls are at school, miss,’ said Pamela.
‘And why aren’t you at school, Pamela?’
‘I left, miss, in the summer. I work here now.’
‘How old are you, Pamela?’ asked Lily, still speaking softly, as she might to a frightened animal.
‘Fourteen, miss.’
‘Have you always lived here?’
Pamela shrugged. ‘Think so, miss.’
‘Pamela! Who’s at the door?’ The strident voice rang out from inside the house, and Lily saw the girl blench, her faint colour draining from her face.
‘That’s Mrs Hawkins,’ Pamela whispered. ‘You’ll have to ask her about Rita. I don’t know nothing.’
‘Don’t worry,’ Lily reassured her, ‘I won’t say nothing, neither.’
Pamela looked anything but reassured, as she stood aside to let Lily in.
‘Lady to see you, Mrs Hawkins,’ she murmured, as the Hawk appeared from her office.
‘You should have told me at once, Pamela,’ she scolded, ‘not left her on the doorstep. Go back to the kitchen now, Mrs Smith’ll be needing you.’
The girl needed no second bidding, and with one last imploring glance at Lily, she scurried away.
‘I was simply telling the girl that I need to see Miss Vanstone,’ Lily said, stepping into the house before Mrs Hawkins could speak. ‘You may remember I came before. I’m Lily Sharples, Rita and Rosie Stevens’ grandmother.’
‘I remember,’ replied Mrs Hawkins, ‘but I’m afraid that Miss Vanstone isn’t here today.’
‘And when will she be?’ asked Lily sweetly.
‘I never know. She comes when she feels it necessary.’
‘Well, it’s necessary today,’ said Lily sharply. ‘I’ve come to see her and see her I must.’
‘Perhaps I can help you?’ suggested Mrs Hawkins, stretching her mouth in a smile that didn’t even come close to her eyes.
‘I want to speak to the organ-grinder, not the monkey.’ Lily snapped out the prepared line and had the satisfaction of seeing Mrs Hawkins flinch.
‘I’m afraid rudeness like that won’t get you what you want,’ said Mrs Hawkins, her voice cold steel. ‘Miss Vanstone isn’t here today, and I’m certain that she has nothing further to say to you.’
‘Well, I have something further to say to her,’ said Lily planting her feet firmly on the floor and leaning on her stick. ‘A great deal.’
‘I’m afraid I must ask you to leave now,’ said Mrs Hawkins, reaching past her and opening the front door. ‘You have no further business here.’
‘And if I refuse?’ challenged Lily.
‘If you refuse to leave, I’ll have to call the police and have you forcibly ejected. I’m sure you don’t want that sort of trouble.’
‘If the police is called, I’ll tell them how you’ve sent my granddaughters to Australia, without asking and without telling anyone! I’ll show them the letter I’ve had from Rita, and then we’ll see who’s in trouble!’
‘Miss Vanstone will probably be here sometime tomorrow,’ said Mrs Hawkins. ‘I suggest you come back then,’ and with a sharp push she propelled Lily out through the open door. Lily staggered, jabbing her stick into the ground to maintain her balance, and by the time she was able to turn round, the front door had been slammed. She had to admit defeat for the time being, and turned away, the rage still boiling inside her. She was defeated now at Laurel House but she was still determined to confront Miss Vanstone. Somehow she would find her and throw her lies in her face.
Inside Laurel House, Mrs Hawkins went upstairs and peered out of the landing window watching and waiting for Lily Sharples to give up and leave. Damned woman! How had she had a letter from Rita? Surely they hadn’t allowed Rita to write home!
Better warn Miss Vanstone, she thought. I always knew that woman was trouble. Monkey indeed! I’ll make her regret that!
Mrs Hawkins returned to her office and picking up the phone, she rang Vanstone Enterprises and asked to be put through to Miss Vanstone.
‘Yes? What is it?’ Miss Vanstone was, as always, brisk on the telephone.
‘That Sharples woman’s been round again,’ answered Mrs Hawkins. ‘She knows those brats are in Australia.’
‘How? How could she possibly know?’
‘She says she’s had a letter from Rita.’
‘A letter from Rita? Hmm.’
‘I told her you weren’t coming here today,’ went on Mrs Hawkins. ‘Said you might be here tomorrow if she wanted to call back.’ She hesitated before she added, ‘I think you’ll have to see her. She’s threatening to go to the police.’
‘Leave it with me,’ said Miss Vanstone, ‘but if she turns up again, tell her I can give her five minutes tomorrow afternoon at four o’clock. We have to sort this thing out once and for all.’