Barefoot and Lost

by Brian Francis Cox

  ‘Suit yourself. After the summer holidays I’m going to De-Haviland’s aircraft factory at Hatfield, to work as an apprentice carpenter, so you had best get to know me quick if you are going to tell me that story.’

  ‘Are you going to make aeroplanes?’

  ‘I think that’s what they usually do in an aircraft factory. This is our cottage, it’s called Rainbow, there are fifteen of us now you are here, and Chalky of course; all different ages, youngest is eight, I’m the eldest I’m nearly fifteen we all look after each other like brothers.

  It is a very happy house, so don’t go spoiling things or you will have me to deal with.’

  At the top of the stairs Gray turns right, opening a door, ‘This is where you sleep.’ There are five beds, four are made, the first one, inside the door on the left, has the sheets and blankets folded up on top. ‘The one under the window is mine, this is yours, unpack your things, your suitcase goes under the bed, put your clothes in the locker and bedside cabinet, make your bed, they have to be made in a special way so look at mine; don’t go messing it up, make yours the same then come downstairs and meet Chalky.

  Chalky is a small thin man with jet black curly hair, his pure white sideburns following the line of his jaw, giving the impression that they are ribbons tying his hair to his head. His voice is very soft, almost a whisper, at first I thought he was talking to himself, it was only when he repeated it I realized he was asking me if I had settled in okay. I told him I had. ‘Where is everybody, the only boy I have seen is Gray?’

  ‘Some are at church, we have a choir of about thirty boys and girls, they are famous in the area and do concerts and sing at other churches; do you sing.’ I shake my head,

  ‘Pity; what are you good at?’

  ‘Swimming, gymnastics, boxing, skipping, those kinds of things, most sports but not football.’

  ‘That is not quite what I meant but you will get the opportunity to do all those; I was referring to skills, are you good with your hands, can you make things, what about carpentry, are you any good at that?’

  ‘No I don’t think so I have never tried; oh I did repair a clock once, does that count?’

  ‘Well I suppose that depends on the degree of the repair, what are your aspirations for the future, what do you want to be in adult life?’

  ‘A journalist, I want to write for a newspaper.’

  ‘Now that is a first, most boys want to be fighter pilots, train drivers, firemen, but you want to be a journalist. Well we haven’t got the facilities for that type of training here, apart from the school, so we will have to find something else that you can turn your hand to.’

  ‘Yes, okay; if you say so.’

  ‘Over the next few weeks we will see which trade you will be best suited to, in the meantime you are what we call a spare so, until we find a slot for you, you will become a waiter in the dining room, serving the senior staff you will start tonight. Gray will take you to the dining room and they will explain your duties.’

  ‘I don’t want to be a waiter.’

  ‘That’s as may be, but you have no choice, you will do what you are told. Everybody has an extra duty to perform here, whether it be shoe repairs, carpentry, painting and decorating, gardening, you are a waiter until it is decided what you are suited to, that’s it, no discussion, go and do as you are told and do it with enthusiasm.’

  Chalky rises from his chair, opens the door, ‘See you after supper.’ He closes the door behind me, Gray is standing outside.

  ‘So, it’s a waiter then?’

  ‘I don’t want to be a bloody waiter, how did you know, did you hear?’

  ‘No, everyone is a waiter when they first arrive but it’s not that bad, you get stacks of food, more than we get, because you eat after everyone is finished and you get the leftovers and can eat as much as you want.’

  I look the part in my little white jacket but I don’t have a clue as to what I should be doing. For sure, tomorrow I will not be so polite and stand back, like I did when we eventually got food, the others were like gannets and I very nearly missed out on any food at all.

  I have met the rest of my room mates, there is one boy my age Clive, but I don’t think we will be friends as he seems so quiet and shy, not talking to anybody. Albert is eight, the other one I think is William, he is eleven, he has a very strong accent, a bit like Scottish, I only understand half of what he says but the others have no problem understanding him, so I expect I will get used to it, then there is Gray and me. As yet I haven’t met the boys in the other rooms, I hope I like someone there, if not this is going to be terrible even if it is only for six months.

  Monday morning, the clock on the wall is showing just before half past six, Chalky sticks his head around the door, ‘Rise and Shine.’ The others all leap out of bed, I decide to have a couple of extra minutes, no point in rushing with everybody in the bathroom, I’ll wait until someone comes back then I will go. Without warning I find myself flying through the air, then crashing to the floor with my bed landing on top of me, scrambling to my feet, ready to hit whoever tipped my bed up only to see Chalky standing there, he pulls me towards him then whispers in my ear, ‘I said rise and shine,’ he then slaps me twice, lightly on the cheek. ‘Thank you for making my day Phillip, haven’t been able to do that for ages.’

  ‘That’s okay Mr. White, very pleased I was able to help.’

  ‘Good boy.’

  School is easy, they are doing stuff I did when I first arrived in primary, I asked one boy did they do algebra; he looked at me blankly, as if I was speaking in a foreign language. One of the teachers told me to just observe and only get involved if I thought I could, as they were about to start exams, before the end of term in four weeks.

  Last Saturday, after all our work was done, we were allowed to go into town for two hours, we had to stay in groups of at least three. I was put with Clive and William, or Billy, as everyone seems to call him but when I asked him his name he said William. I thought that was strange until I realized, when I was asked my name I always said Phillip, but most call me Phil.

  They have been to Parkside shopping centre before and know their way around, when I asked them to show me the post office Billy wanted to know why, I told him to post a letter. Billy said, ‘Who you got to write to?’ I didn’t like, to say my girlfriend, so said,

  ‘My foster mum’ Clive looked at me a bit puzzled,

  ‘If you’ve got a foster mum what are yer doing here in this dump?’

  ‘My foster dad is sick and she can’t look after me.’

  ‘Bloody hell, a foster dad as well; it’s alright for some.’ That is the most I have heard Clive say, before or since. After my letter was posted, we spent the next hour mooching around, Clive once again silent, having crawled back into his shell. Billy never shuts up, with me only understanding half of what he says. I did however, find out he came from a place called Strabane, in Northern Ireland, wherever that is.

  I have been here just over two weeks, nobody pays any attention to me in school; I’m sitting on my own at the back of the class. They are doing revision, so if something comes up that I don’t know, I write in my book. If I do know, I never put up my hand to answer.

  So far not one teacher has asked me anything, or involved me, I have decided to say nothing until exams next week. When I asked if I can take the exams, I was told of course, what else would you be doing? If I fail it is what they expect, maybe I’ll pass, who knows?’

  On Saturday it will be my thirteenth birthday, I wonder what I will be doing, it certainly won’t a surprise trip to London like last year, That trip was fantastic, first it was my first long trousers, then the taxi ride with Gran and June around all the sights of London, the lunch at Lions corner house, with all that jelly and Pop joking about the fire brigade when they lit the candles on the cake, and then the ride on the trolley bus to the hospital to see Michael, I can’t believe he was okay then, and looking forward to going home and now he is dead, a lump rises in m
y throat as I think of him. Billy said we usually have a party in the cottage that will be nice I don’t expect that there will be any presents for me, nobody knows me.

  Although Billy is nearly two years younger than me we have become quite good friends, he is a great joker and has me splitting my sides with some of his antics, especially when he mimics the teachers. I am surprised he is so happy all the time, he has no one; he has been in homes since he was four, and he doesn’t remember his parents, doesn’t know what happened to them, but thinks they were killed by a bomb in the shipyards. He was in a home in Belfast until the bombing got really bad. He was then moved to a home in Devon where he stayed for a couple of years and then came to Parkside. I asked him had he ever been fostered. ‘Twice nearly, but I didn’t like the look of them so I bunged on my accent.’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘I think they changed their minds, didn’t want no bloody foreigner as their kid; suited me, I’m happy here, I want to stay until I’m old enough to go to sea school, then I want to be a sailor.’

  ‘What’s sea school?’

  ‘It’s a school where Barnardos send you when you are fourteen, if you are good enough to learn to be a sailor.’

  ‘My dad was a sailor; he got killed by the Japs.’

  ‘Billy, what happens here when you have a birthday?’

  ‘Yer get a bleeding year older that’s wot.’

  ‘Ha, ha very funny, you know what I mean, like, do we get birthday cards, or have a party?’

  ‘I told you, Chalky usually manages to get a cake with candles and we have a bit of a sing song here in the house, but I dunno about birthday cards, I‘ve never had one, well, not really. Four years ago for my seventh birthday, some kids made me one, none of us has anyone to get cards from, that’s why we’re here, because we have nobody, we’re bloody orphans haven’t you caught on to that?’

  ‘I just thought I might get one, that’s all.’

  ‘Who from; anyway, when is your birthday?’

  ‘Tomorrow; I thought my foster mum might send one.’

  ‘Phil, I don’t understand you, why the hell are you here if you have a foster mum, or do you mean a foster mum that used to be and now can’t be bothered with you?’

  ‘No, she wants me, but can’t look after me because my foster dad is sick.’

  ‘Yer, I believe you, sounds a likely story to me, lots of kids have been slung back here because the foster mums can’t cope or can’t be bothered, they do it because they can, if they were their own kids they’d have to keep them, that’s why I don’t want to be fostered, you can’t trust them, the only one I trust is me.’

  ‘I just thought that’s all.’

  ‘You wanna stop doing that.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Thinking, it’s bad for yer brain; go and ask Chalky if he has any cards for you, who knows yer may get one from the King or Winston bloody Churchill or the Queen of Sheba, who knows?’

  ‘Thanks Billy, you really do have a knack of making someone feel miserable.’

  The exams have been easy, each time I seem to finish before anyone else. I went back over them in case I had made a mistake, but I don’t think I did, the time I spent in private school has helped me so much. Here the school concentrates on working with your hands, carpentry, sheet metal, shoe making where, I am told I will be going during the school holidays, to learn how to repair shoes. I’m not too happy about that but, if Billy is wrong, I will be back with June in a few months. I’m glad I’m not a girl; they do laundry, cooking, housework, training to be housekeepers, how terrible I think Rachel must be doing something like that, because she said in her letter she was learning to cook.

  ‘Mr. White, is there a card for me this morning?’

  ‘Happy birthday Phil; no nothing yet, but the post doesn’t get here until about ten so ask me again at lunchtime.’ I know I’m not going to get one, I think Billy must be right. If nothing arrives I’m going to write to Awful and post it this afternoon, when we are in town, I wish I knew if he was getting my letters, why doesn’t he reply?

  The morning has been horrible, I have spent three hours in the shoe repair workshop, being shown how to use a pair of pincers to pull the old soles off smelly shoes, and then pull out all the nails, making them ready for the shoemaker to fit new soles. My hands are sore, to think this is what they want me to do during the school holidays, and then for the rest of my life, if that is all I have to look forward to I hope I die young.

  ‘Mr. White is-------’

  ‘Sorry Phil, nothing at all, not a sausage, no letters not even a card.’ I don’t know why I feel so disappointed, I didn’t really expect anything, and I just hoped that’s all. Billy is right, people tell you things that they think you want hear, but don’t really mean it. I just wish June had told me the truth she said she loved me but her love for me wasn’t enough, she loved Reg more. As I head upstairs Chalky calls me ‘Phil, where are you off to?’

  ‘I’m going to up to my room to write a letter; why?’

  ‘I would like you to come to the sitting room before you do that.’

  Turning around on the stairs I follow Chalky into the sitting room, the curtains are drawn on a table in the middle of the room is a cake with candles burning, their flames weaving in the draught, lighting the faces of the kids seated around it as they sing Happy Birthday. I need two puffs to blow out the candles; I can hear Billy’s voice asking me, do I need the fire brigade? Placed in front of the cake is an envelope, my heart leaps, my hands are trembling as I open it to reveal a birthday card, then my stomach sinks as I read, it is from Mr. White and the staff at Barnardos, underneath is a folded paper, printed across the top is Happy Birthday Phil, inside it is signed by everyone in Rainbow cottage.

  ‘Thanks everyone that was a nice surprise.’

  ‘Sorry it wasn’t the card you wanted Phil; it may not be because they don’t want to, but maybe not being able to send you one, don’t think badly of them, try to give them the benefit of the doubt.’

  ‘Yes okay, I will, perhaps it will come next week.’

  ‘Here is a small present for you, not much, but you will find it will come in handy.’ Wrapped up in a bit of brown paper is a tin of black, Cherry Blossom shoe polish and a brush.

  ‘Phil, get in the habit, if your shoes are shining people will see you as someone that takes pride in himself, they will then take a shine to you and help you to get on and do well in life.’

  ‘Thanks Mr. White, I’ll do that.’

  School broke up yesterday it is now six days since my birthday and still no cards or letters. I have written to Awful, I’m going to post it tomorrow. I have spent another three hours mending shoes and I hate it. I’ve asked to go to the woodworking workshop with Billy but they do not have any place for me, therefore I have to mend shoes and wait tables in the evening for the whole of the school holidays. Some kids are going to Norfolk on holiday, but Billy, me and a few others are not included, he is very put out about it, telling me this is the first time he has not gone on holiday. I asked Chalky why we had been left out he replied, ‘I think they have something better in mind for you and Billy.’ When I pushed him he said he didn’t know and got annoyed when I pressed him, so we will just have to wait and see. Billy says that he heard that all families with big houses were going to be made, by the government, to foster kids that are orphans and we have been chosen to go to that bloody great big house at the end of the Mall in London. He had me crying with laughter when he said, ‘Do you think we will have to call them, Uncle George and Auntie Liz or Mum and Dad?’

  ‘Mum and Dad I expect, will you bung on your accent?’

  ‘Yeah, I’ll talk real all La –di- da like one of them fellas on the BBC.

  Chapter Twenty

  ‘Australia? No, that is not right, Orville wants me to go to America to be his son, he told me so; not Australia, he doesn’t live in Australia, he is an American officer, why would he want me to go to Australia?’

 
‘Phillip, calm down, I have no idea who you are talking about, it says nothing here about an American officer, what it does say is that a Mr. and Mrs. Barton in Victoria, Australia, have selected you to be their son, to be a younger brother to their son Aubrey, they are farmers and good Christians.

  ‘How can they choose me, they don’t know me, what about June and Reg what will they say when they find out I’m in Australia? I’m not going, I don’t care if they are Christians, I do not believe in God anyway. He has been horrible to me, he’s killed my Mum and Dad, let my Gran die when I needed her most, and made my best friend so sick he died, God has done nothing but horrible things to me, and I’m not bloody going.’

  ‘Phillip, do not swear; you have no say in the matter, you are a minor, we make the decisions for you. As for your thoughts about God, he could have realized that he has treated you badly and this is his way of putting things right. God moves in mysterious ways, we are at his call to do whatever he wishes, and right now, he wishes you to go to Australia and that is all there is to it. You will be sailing, with many other children on a ship, on the fifteenth of August that is in two weeks, so get used to it and accept Gods wish.

  ‘But------’

  ‘No more discussion Phillip, our chat has finished, I am very busy, goodbye.’ I have never seen this man before, who said his name was Finch, the women beside him who had no name and did nothing but smile, how they can send me to the other side of the World, and I don’t even have a say in what happens to me.

  As I stand to leave they look at a list in front of them, the woman rises from her seat behind the desk, and passing me she holds the door open and says. ‘Would you please come in Helen,’ a skinny girl with dark short hair looks up with a scared expression,