Dr. Barnardo’s Homes sent “After Sailing” notifications to parents. It appears that the Fairbridge Society followed their lead, as is evident in this letter from the Society’s office at 35 Dean Street, Newcastle-on-Tyne, regarding Audrey Arnison’s imminent departure for the colonies, which questions whether to inform her mother before or after sailing.
Chapter 3
Bunny’s Birthday
We are merely transferring them from part of the Empire to another — from our own England where they have no prospects, to our own Canada, where their prospects are as bright as the flame that glows on the maple leaf in the fall.
— Arthur Chilton Thomas, manager of Father Berry’s Homes of Liverpool, cited in Rooke and Schnell, Discarding the Asylum, 1902
Nature abhors a vacuum; sooner or later Destiny presents its account to those countries which neglect to populate themselves.
— “Those Empty Spaces,” Morning Post (London), May 10, 1935
With the arrival of her little sister at the farm school, Marjorie finally had new memories, recent memories, that gave her joy without the pain. Today was Sunday and a beautiful day for a birthday. The valley was having its first winter storm of the new year. Yesterday, the girls had run to their cottage after school as the wind howled, but by bedtime there was a strange calm. Marjorie slept fitfully when the wind blew fiercely through the trees around the farm school cottages. She would lie awake some nights just worrying about things. She was thankful for the calm, yet last night she was restless and her sleep was full of dreams. She was excited about Bunny’s birthday, but with it memories of other birthdays with her family crept in, threatening to spoil everything. The worry was pushed away when she looked out the window. What a bonus for Bunny’s birthday that snow had crept in while they were sleeping. The sun’s rays jetted through the clouds and lit up the snow that lay over the land like a brilliant, shimmering white blanket. Little footprints in the snow dotted the area around their cottage. Are they from the deer that live in the nearby woods? Marjorie wondered.
Her thoughts were interrupted when Bunny came up to her. “Marjorie, I made up a poem and some came true. Do you want to hear it? It’s called ‘Dreams for My Birthday.’ There are only two things that I want for my birthday; I want snow, and I want my family. Do you like it?”
They had snow, but getting their family back was as remote as ever.
Marjorie and Bunny stamped the snow off their boots before they went into the dining hall for the Sunday morning church service. The girls pulled off their mittens and stuffed them into their coat pockets. The morning prayer service was about to begin. They scurried to their seats.
“Marjorie, let’s make a snowman if the snow doesn’t melt,” Bunny whispered.
“Okay, Aud, I mean Bunny.” Marjorie worked at using her sister’s nickname, but it was hard. “Let’s put two black rocks for his eyes.”
“And maybe we could find an old hat and scarf and a carrot for a nose.” Bunny wiggled in excitement. Snow on her birthday was a special thing.
Marjorie let her mind wonder. Having her sister here with her made a world of difference. She had been alone at the farm school for a long time before Bunny arrived. She felt it was selfish of her to be happy about Bunny’s arrival — because who would wish this place on anyone? — but the day the bus pulled in with the new group of kids was the best day ever. She and Kenny waited for ages down by the school gates. Finally, a rumble in the distance let them know that the bus was coming. They could hear it before they saw it because of the bend in the road.
Kenny yelped with excitement, “Marjorie, I can hear the bus! Audrey is almost here. Do you think Joyce will be on the bus, too?”
“I don’t think so, Kenny. The cottage mum told me that she’s not on the list. But maybe they made a mistake. Do you think she’ll recognize us?” Marjorie was almost as worried as she was excited. She really wanted Joyce to be coming, too, but deep down she knew better. She would not give up all hope until the bus came, though.
The two children watched for their sister as the new group climbed off the bus. There was Audrey! “Audrey. Audrey! Over here!” Both Kenny and Marjorie yelled at the same time. They pushed past the other kids and ran up to her.
“Marjorie! Kenny! Is it really you?” Audrey looked at them, terrified, too afraid to even cry. She peed her pants as she grabbed Marjorie’s hand and held on tightly, her eyes showing the depth of her fear, a fear that kept her rooted to the spot. Other children pushed past her, trying to get off the bus.
“Yes, it is. Quickly, come over here. Oh, Audrey, we missed you.”
“My very own sister and brother. I missed you too!” They laughed through their tears and hugged and then hugged again. “It was such a long trip, the train and the ferry, and, oh, the huge ocean liner. I didn’t know where they were taking me. I was so scared.” Audrey stopped to catch her breath.
Marjorie was listening, but she kept looking back at the bus.
“What are you looking for?” Audrey asked her.
“Oh, nothing. I was just wondering if Joyce came, too.” Marjorie’s voice trailed off. She had hoped that her cottage mother was wrong, and maybe Joyce was coming and she was going to stay in a different cottage, and that was the reason she wasn’t on her cottage list. Marjorie thought that would be okay. The important thing was to see her again. She watched as the bus driver got off the bus and shut the door.
“No Joyce,” Marjorie said aloud.
“No, they wouldn’t let her come. They said she was too old. I put up a big stink because I didn’t want to leave her, but they wouldn’t listen to me. I told them I didn’t want to come all by myself. I tried to get away and run back to get Joyce, but they held my arm. Why didn’t you wait for me? I didn’t even know you were gone, and when I got out of sick bay, I looked for you and looked for you, then they told me you were gone and Kenny, too. Oh, Marjorie, it was so awful coming all by myself, and they wouldn’t let me say goodbye to Joyce. The nurse said it would be best, as it would just upset Joyce, but I don’t think that was fair, do you?” Audrey sobbed and looked up at her sister. Disbelief covered her young face. She looked around as if trying to understand where she was.
“No, it’s not fair at all. They didn’t let me say goodbye to Joyce or you, either. I just thought we were going for a picnic or something, but we never came back. How do you know you have to say goodbye when you don’t know you’re going? When we first got here, they told us you would be coming when you got better, but it has been months and months, and Kenny and I decided that it was a lie to keep us from having a fit, and you were not really coming at all. I can’t believe you’re here!” Marjorie hugged her little sister again.
Marjorie, Kenny, and Audrey were not the only family members reunited that day. Billy, a boy who came out with them on the boat last year, called out, “Bobby! Eunice! I can’t believe you’re here!” Then Jimmy and another boy named Kenny yelled out, “Amy! It’s good to see you.” And Olive and Tom grabbed their younger brother George. Tom said, “George, we thought you’d never get here! I’m so glad to see you. How long has it been?”
His sister replied, “Well, we’ve been here almost two years! It has been a long time. Did Kenny come with you, too? Where is he? Why isn’t he here?”
“Nah, he couldn’t come yet. They told me he was too young. They said he’d get to come out when he’s older. I didn’t want to leave him, but I had no choice, did I?” George looked at his older brother and sister and hoped they agreed with him. He’d tried his best to look out for his brother after his other siblings had left, but what could he do now? “He’s still just a little guy; he’s only five years old, I told them. I said he should have come with me, but they never listen to kids. I hope he’s okay. I wasn’t allowed to say goodbye.”
“Listen, children. Line up and I’ll tell you which group you will be in. Audrey Arnison, Attwood; Lionel
…”
“Audrey, let’s get you to our cottage quickly and get you changed.” As Marjorie pulled her sister away from the group, she glanced over at the bus. There were a few children standing around, looking very uneasy in their new surroundings. Marjorie’s chore for the afternoon was to take care of Audrey and show her around. She looked for Kenny, but he had already run off with a couple of his pals. “C’mon. Give me your suitcase and I’ll show you our cottage. I’ve got your cot all ready for you.”
As Audrey walked through the new group of kids, one of the girls turned and said, “Bunny, is that your sister?” Marjorie was surprised when Audrey answered.
Bunny smiled. “Yes, that’s my big sister Marjorie.” Bunny grabbed Marjorie’s hand, and they headed off toward their cottage.
“See you later, Bunny,” the girl yelled after her.
As Bunny skipped alongside Marjorie, she yelled back, “See you later. I’m going to my cottage now.”
Marjorie looked puzzled. “Why did she call you that?”
“What? Bunny?” Audrey asked. Marjorie nodded. “Well, that’s my name now. A sailor started calling me Bunny on the boat, and now everyone calls me that. I don’t mind.
“What boat were you on? Was it really huge? My boat was called the Duchess of York, and it was really, really huge. I was seasick a lot. I blubbed all over the place.” Bunny made a face as she remembered how she’d felt.
“Yuck, Audrey. I don’t want to hear about you barfing! Kenny and I came over on the Duchess of Atholl. It was huge, and I was seasick a lot, too. I don’t think Kenny got sick, though. The sailors said he got his sea legs right away. They said he would make a good sailor, and they offered him a job on the boat, but they were just teasing him. I think Kenny would have stayed, though; he liked it that much. They let him go down and see the engine room and everything.
“Well, here we are. This is our cottage. Attwood Cottage.[1] Mrs. Read, the cottage mum, can be an old witch at times, but you get used to her after a while. You just have to learn to keep out of her way. She’s not like a real mum, you know. We just have to call her that.” Marjorie was unsure how to explain their cottage mum to her sister.
“Did you see our mum at all?” Marjorie turned away, trying to hide her tears, her fears. She had to be strong for her little sister.
“No. Not even once.” Bunny brushed her hand across her eyes. “Is Mrs. Read anything like our mum? Does she give you hugs? What happens if we’re sick or something? I hated being sick at Middlemore. They shaved my head and put blue stuff all over it. It was awful in the sick room. I couldn’t play with anyone. I hated it. They left me all alone. Do you miss our mum, Marjorie? I still do.” Bunny looked up at her sister.
“I miss her all the time. I will never forget her. Never! She is still my mum, even though she sent us away. Sometimes I think I hate her, and at the same time I love her, and I miss her so much it hurts and I have to stop thinking about it.” Marjorie wiped her eyes. “Well, our cottage mum is not like our mum at all. Sometimes I think she hates us. She never hugs us, and if we get sick, we go to see the nurse. Nurse is pretty nice.”
“Where is the nurse? Is she like the Middlemore nurses?” A shudder ran through Bunny.
“She’s close by. The hospital is in Douglas Cottage, on the other side of that cottage, right over there. That side is called Pennant. It’s really two houses stuck together at the middle, but you have to go outside and up those stairs to get to the other side. There’s no doorway to each cottage from the inside.” Marjorie pointed to the building next to theirs. “They’re going to build a proper hospital, and then that side can be for another girls’ cottage. Our nurse is different from the Middlemore nurses. It’s like she’s a real nurse — one that belongs in a hospital, not a home.”
Marjorie put her arm around her little sister’s shoulders and gave a squeeze.
“Ow!” Bunny jumped away. “My arm hurts where they jabbed me. I screamed when they did that. Did they do that to you, too?” Marjorie hadn’t thought about her vaccinations for months. The four huge scabs had been sore for ages. Hearing her sister shriek brought back the painful memory. She grabbed her sister’s hand.
“Yes, and it hurt. Here we are. If you ever get lost, you can ask for the way to Attwood Cottage.”
“This is a pretty nice house.” Bunny held tighter. The sisters stepped over the sill.
Marjorie and Audrey in front of the second cottage they were placed in: Pennant Cottage, 2014.
Bunny tugged at Marjorie’s sleeve. Marjorie had forgotten where she was. Everyone was standing up to sing the next verse. She quickly followed and got ready to sing with the rest of them. Really, she just mouthed the words because her teacher had told her that would be best. The day was etched in her mind when, during choir practice, her teacher had said, “You don’t have a very good singing voice, Marjorie. Why don’t you just mouth the words?” Her teacher patted her on the shoulder and walked away. She did not see Marjorie’s face turn red or the tears forming in her eyes. Was her singing that bad? She had enjoyed singing up to that point. Ever since then, her voice was stuck and she could not sing at all, not even “Happy Birthday” to her cottage mates.
After the service, the children quickly changed out of their church clothes so they could play in the snow until lunch. There was a competition between the cottages to see who could build the biggest snowman. Marjorie hoped that maybe later they could take the sleighs up to the hill behind the cow barn. This was one of the areas where the boys and girls could play together. They were watched, but maybe she could get in a quick visit with Kenny if she was careful. Sledding was the best fun, and Bunny would love it, too.
As Marjorie piled up the snow, she thought about the surprise for Bunny’s birthday. She and the older girls were going to bake a chocolate cake — with the help of the cottage mum, of course. She had gone to the supply building to get some cocoa yesterday. A duty master was standing in the doorway blocking her way. Fear of what he might do to her ran up her spine.
She tried not to be around any of them when she was alone. The girls had rules to avoid several of the men at this farm school: “Always travel in pairs,” an older girl in her cottage had whispered to her, “and never go into any man’s rooms by yourself or else.” Marjorie had passed this on to Bunny right away.
And now here she was, stuck. She grabbed the tin of cocoa, knocking supplies off the shelf, but instead of picking them up when he yelled for her to do so she squeezed past him. He reached out for her, but she wiggled out of his reach and ran. She was safe this time.
Now they had all the ingredients they needed in their cottage kitchen. They were going to start the cake right after the afternoon Sunday-school class. She had a little gift for Audrey, and so did their cottage mum.
Her present was a special seashell from the beach at Cowichan Bay. The girls had walked for ages to get there last summer, but it was worth it. They were away from the farm for the entire day. They stopped at the river along the way for a cooling swim. Marjorie hoped that they might go again. She wanted to show Bunny the old Stone Butter Church near Cowichan Bay where they had stopped to eat their lunch. But mostly she wanted to show her sister the beach. Marjorie vividly recalled the smell of the ocean as it slapped her in the face and stopped her in her tracks, and once again she allowed memories of her Whitley Bay sands to flood every corner of her mind.
Girls shovelling a path at Fairbridge Farm School.
As she had prepared for bed that night last August, Marjorie felt something in her pocket. “My shells!” she whispered to herself. She had forgotten that she had slipped a few seashells into her pocket. She quickly dusted off the bits of mud and seaweed and placed them on the shelf above her bed, and there they had remained for months, hidden in the back. She had not shown them to Audrey, so giving her a seashell for a birthday present would be a perfect surpris
e. They were just like the shells at Whitley Bay. Imagine these two beaches so far apart having the same kind of shells. Oh, then she could tell her all about their beach adventure. How strange to be rolling snowballs now and remembering how hot it was then.
“C’mon, Marjorie, help me with this. I can’t lift it up by myself.”
“Oh, this is heavy.” The two girls held the snowman’s head steady while the others packed snow to hold it in place. Bunny stuck a stick in for his nose.
“Good work, Bunny. That’s better than an old carrot. Here are some rocks for his eyes. Can you reach?”
The girls stood back and looked at their creation. It was a good snowman, even if they did say so themselves. They walked over to the nearby cottages to see how the other snowmen were coming along. “Ours is much better!” yelled Bunny when she saw the first one. Then, suddenly, a group of girls ran out from behind the building and began pelting snowballs at them. It was an ambush. They had been stockpiling snowballs and waiting for the other cottage girls to show up. The girls ducked the flying snow and scooped up handfuls for themselves, quickly forming them into little balls and letting them fly.
All too soon, playtime was over. The cottage mums were calling for the girls on lunch duty. This signalled the time for all the girls to start their chores.
“What are your chores this week, Marjorie?” Fanny Apple asked as she sucked on a piece of snow.
Marjorie asked, “Did you check to see that it wasn’t yellow?”
Marjorie Her War Years Page 6
