by sophie scott
Chapter
4
The decision
Miss Cherry and Miss Battle-axe were alone together in the office the belonged to Miss Cherry; they had just finished sorting out the other girls. Because of this, they were both sighing and huffing and puffing as they stared at each other with little concentration. They were carefully choosing together how to approach the situation they were in- should they send Stacey to her aunt’s house in Florida? They decided to call Aunt Mary and see her opinion on the circumstance.
“Hello, who is it?” Mary asked the second she picked up the phone in a vague accent that sounded like it was from Florida.
“It’s Grace Cherry but you can call be Grace. I work at a girl’s orphanage in England, London. A pleasant girl who happens to be a relative of yours lives here. Her parents unfortunately happen to have died. Their names are Mr and Mrs Brown. They are Stacey’s parents- therefore she is your relative. We are searching for a place for Stacey to live and we wondered if you would be available to care for her?” Miss Cherry said.
“I suppose, I have several reasons why not,” Mary briefly hesitated, “Okay, if I must!” She decided in the end.
It was music to Miss Cherry’s ears. Immediately she hurried to tell Stacey. She had run so quickly that within seconds she was a faded silhouette to Miss Battle-axe.
Stacey was utterly ecstatic with excitement when she heard the good news! She was delighted to hear she would actually have a house of her own, a place of her own to sleep, and a guardian of her own- once again! She wouldn’t have to stay in the wretched orphanage a day longer because the summer holiday started the following day- that’s when she was due to leave.
Stacey was absolutely bewildered that she had been happy staying at the orphanage despite the hard times. She cherished Miss Cherry’s light hearted approach to things; her smile was far too merry to be true! Claudia had been so obnoxious at first but after several conversations they have sorted things out! Most amazingly of all, Miss Battle-axe was no longer cruel towards Stacey but at least descent- maybe even pleasant!
After a good nights sleep, the grand day finally came! Stacey was going to her Aunts house! Tears trickled like honey down her rose-pink cheeks softly as she waved goodbye to her dear companions. Kindly, they walked down the stairs together- Miss Battle-axe, Claudia and most importantly Miss Cherry. The crowd, consisting of only four, came to a halt at the same, gigantic, frightening door Stacey had walked through at the beginning of her short journey. At this exact moment, each of the ladies were crying- weather they were glad tears or sad tears; they weren’t too sure!
Stacey was ready to go- a suitcase in her left gloved hand and a letter in her other gloved hand. Stacey fingered the letter nervously curious to know was it said- was it good or bad. The letter read-
Stacey, catch the train at eleven o’clock, don’t worry if you miss it because there will be another train every half hour. Get off the train at Brighton. When you get off the train catch the ferry, there will be one every hour, to Florida and your Aunt should meet you there.
Whishing you the very best of luck
Miss Cherry
Stacey knew she would treasure the letter for as long as she lived, weather it was good or bad. She would remember the nicest person (After her parents) she had ever met- Miss Cherry.
When passing the boys orphanage Stacey noticed a small figure sobbing; dressed in an old fashioned hat, a mucky grey shirt, a tartan blazer and striped trousers. Stacey guessed the boy was about thirteen year’s old- older than her. As she neared the boy, he looked younger- about seven years old. “Are you okay?” Stacey asked- concerned, “How old are you? Why are you out here, crying? What is you name?” She added.
“I-I-I-“The young boy stuttered. After several moments, he spoke up in a manlier manner- “I am certainly not okay, my parents died yesterday,” Stacey sniffed and tilted her head- trying to contain her sobs. “I am seven years old; I am here (Outside) because the orphanage is horrible. All the older boys bully me and Mr Battle-axe beats me! Who are you? I am Bertie” Bertie replied.
“I am Stacey and I am moving away from this place! I am from the girl’s orphanage just across the road, but my Aunt is going to adopt me who lives in Florida!” Stacey said, pointing proudly at the orphanage and then in the other direction towards the train station. Her eye brows rose as she slapped a cheeky smirk on her face- not too upset Bertie though. While neither Bertie nor Stacey was busy talking; Stacey studied Bertie’s face. He was rather chubby, had these big bushy eyebrows and millions of freckles spotted all over his cheeks.
Abruptly, a big door leading into the orphanage opened- revealing a broad, muscular man which Stacey guessed as Mr Battle-axe and therefore ran.
She dashed past the butchers at top speed; she sprinted past the sweet shop without bothering to inhale the sweet sugary smell, she even passed the toy shop without spending hours gazing at the magical rocking horse in the corner. Stacey dreamed about the horse as she ran towards the train station- it had a scarlet saddle; gold entwined throughout the make. Attached to its deep brown fur was a long flowing mane that you could plait, brush or style. It rocked beautifully in the corner of the bright shop owned by Mr Barnes, the friendliest man in town. He gave free toys to the poor and if children had no pennies he gave them to them, he allowed them to gaze in the window all day, even drool at the nutcracker toy- sometimes he let them in just to browse!
Toot! Toot! The emerald green train travelled swiftly across the tracks making harsh noises like horses hooves. People suddenly barged and shoved as Stacey gasped in horror- she had never known people to be so rude. She edged away from the crowd and joined the back of the queue.
When every one had finally clambered onto the train, Stacey crawled on and leaned against a rust pole- exhausted from running. Her brown hair falling untidily in a scruffy plait down her curved back, she huffed and puffed; much like the train itself. Peering around herself, Stacey noticed all the different people- some sweating because it was so crowded, some peacefully chatting or reading a book. She looked longingly at a healthy young man who was slumped on a chair comfortably, hoping for his seat. He noticed her. He looked up at Stacey and raised one eye brow but still got up- grunting.
Stacey quickly perched on the cushioned chair, edging away from the sweaty beings. “Waterloo” The speakers announced. Stacey frowned. Luckily lots of people got off; leaving plenty of space for Stacey and a few other passengers. To Stacey’s dismay, about another twenty people marched onto the train, one young teenager forcing Stacey right of her seat- landing with a thump on the floor. Stacey wept, without even meaning to but she wept. She felt so sad, she was only eleven and she was travelling to another country alone with little money in her pockets, her parents were dead and she had just abandoned a sobbing seven year old boy.
“Brighton” The speakers announced. Before anyone else had the opportunity to, Stacey jumped right off the train and ran out of the station to the town centre. She spotted an eerie corridor and decided to wonder down it. No soul was there, no soul was in sight. Stacey’s only companion now was the thick, misty air, the damp stench and the dark ahead of her. Worried- she screamed quietly into the mysterious air: “Mother, Father!” She yelled. Many folks peered down the alleyway but none dared try to help Stacey. Stacey squatted on the wet, black ground against a mossy brick wall and cried. She cried. She cried louder than a volcano eruption. She cried more sadly than the colour blue. She cried more meaningfully than the quote of Winston Churchill: “We shall never surrender!” The deep colours sizzled in her head; they sorted it out. `What colours were they? ` Was the question Stacey couldn’t answer. After several moments, Stacey worked out the colours- deep purple and blue with a pigmented shade of grey. Stacey sat in a squatted position as she leant her elbows on her knees, her head in her hands and she cried hard into the dark air which got darker and darker. Tears spilled from her red, puffy eyes.
Suddenly a thought struck t
o Stacey- the ferry! Will there be a ferry in the middle of the night? She rose to her tender feet and darted to her destination of the harbour. Many people were lined up at an entrance, clearly waiting for a trip to somewhere! Next to the long line was a notice saying: `Florida trip starts in 10 minutes and boarding time is in 1 minute. If you are late you will not be let aboard. ` After reading the notice over and over just to be sure, Stacey darted right up the road and joined the end of the queue, desperate not to be late.
A long way ahead of her, Stacey noticed people moving forwards, most in cars or carrying lots of luggage- Stacey only had one letter, a limited bag of money and a small suitcase. The family in front of her stepped forwards and so did Stacey, after several repeats of the same action, Stacey got onto the ferry and sat down on a wooden bench; one of many. For her dinner she relished a warm chicken soup which she ate with delight and warmth. The warmness of the soup trailed through her body warming her and comforting her.
As the night got darker and darker and later and later, the ferry came nearer and nearer to Florida.
Finally, the journey came to an end and Stacey clambered of the boat. She was worried at first because she realised that she didn’t know what her auntie looked like therefore was looking for something she didn’t know of. Later, when most tourists had gone home or to their destination, Stacey saw a woman of average build standing alone in the dark, lonely air. She wore a flowery dress and when she moved it looked like a floating curtain was her auntie. Aunt Mary held out her arms, proud to have her own niece, and beckoned Stacey to hug her. Although not wanting to, Stacey gave her aunt a tight hug and smiled as she introduced herself-
“I am Stacey, your niece!” Stacey said
“My Niece! Oh! What a tease you are! We are complete strangers, now have you seen a tall, broad man around, he has this big curly hair and ruffled eye brows?” The stranger said.
Feeling far too upset to reply, Stacey ran off- tears darting away from her as she neared the gates of the harbour. Standing by the gates was a plump lady in a red shirt and a pair of blue, denim jeans. Her hair was cut short so it scarcely reached her shoulders. She seemed perfect to Stacey- this was her aunt. She just knew it! The way she had bright green eyes, the perfect grin plastered on her face all add up to clues of Stacey’s aunt. Also the way that when Stacey set eyes on her, her heart began to beat faster, her mind frothed up- they were signs that she was the aunt of Stacey! When the real Aunt Mary stretched out her arms for a hug, this time Stacey hugged more willingly and when she introduced herself the lady didn’t giggle she introduced herself. She introduced herself as Mary; Aunt Mary, and she said she was proud to be Aunt Mary, making Stacey feel special.
The two of them jumped into the car, out of the cold weather, and Aunt Mary drove Stacey and herself to her house. Aunt Mary explained “When we get home we will be having family roast dinner! Just put your bags by the door and then sit down wherever you want!” Stacey replied with a smile and then gathered her belongings- she guessed they were nearly there.
