The Throwaway Children

by Diney Costeloe

  ‘It must be very difficult for you,’ sympathized Miss Hassinger, ‘but I’m not sure how I can help.’

  ‘Mavis told me they was took from school,’ explained Lily. ‘She said that the welfare come here and took them away. She’d signed some papers or other, silly girl, which let them be fetched. Did you see them papers, Miss Hassinger?’

  ‘Yes, the Children’s Officer showed them to me.’

  ‘And was that a Miss Hopkins?’

  ‘I believe that was her name, yes.’

  ‘And did she let you read them, all through, like?’

  Miss Hassinger nodded. ‘Yes, I read them.’

  ‘Didn’t it say where they was going? It must have put an address or the name of the place or something.’

  Miss Hassinger thought hard, considering what to do. She knew they had been sent to Laurel House, the EVER-Care children’s home. Now she had to decide whether to tell Mrs Sharples where they were, or whether to maintain the strict confidentiality as she ought, and refuse to do so. She knew Lily Sharples of old, both as Mavis’s mother and as Rita and Rosie’s grandmother. Surely, and she was positive about this, the two little girls would be far better off living with their gran, whom it was clear they loved dearly, than in an institution.

  ‘I can tell you where they were taken,’ she said when she’d decided to take the risk, ‘but whether they’re still there or not, of course, I don’t know. Children in care don’t always stay in the same place, you know. The move these days is to find them a foster home, where they can become part of a family, rather than keep them in residential care. I’ll give you the name of this place, it’s called Laurel House EVER-Care home and it’s in Russell Green.’

  Lily looked at the headmistress, tears of gratitude in her eyes. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered, ‘thank you so much.’

  Miss Hassinger smiled ruefully. ‘Well,’ she said, ‘I shouldn’t have told you, it’s breaking confidentiality, but I’m sure you’ll forget where you heard it.’ She stood up and held her hand out to Lily. ‘Good luck, Mrs Sharples. I hope you find them and can bring them home. I look forward to having them back in my school.’

  Miss Hassinger watched from her window as Lily Sharples made her way out of the school gate, still hobbling with her stick, but armed with the information she’d been able to give her.

  I hope you find them, she thought, but even if you do, I doubt if you’ll get them back.

  On her way home, Lily stopped at the bus station and looked at the timetables. The number 37 bus was the one she needed to get to Russell Green.

  ‘Russell Green! Russell Green!’ called the bus conductor, and gave Lily his hand to help her step off the bus. Once on the pavement she looked round her. It was an area of the city that she didn’t know. The bus had dropped her outside a parade of shops. Lily decided to ask in the newsagent’s. If they delivered papers in the area, they would be sure to know where Laurel House was. She pushed open the door and went in.

  ‘Laurel House?’ said the woman behind the counter. ‘You mean the abandoned children’s home?’

  Abandoned children? The words cut through to Lily’s heart. If that’s how the place was known locally, Rita and Rosie must truly feel they’d been abandoned. ‘Yes,’ she replied, ‘the children’s home.’

  ‘That’s in Shepherd Street,’ said the newsagent.

  With the directions in her hand, Lily found her way to Shepherd Street, and walked slowly along, looking at the big old Victorian houses that lined it. Halfway along she found Laurel House. The name was on the gate, as if it were a private house, like the others around it, but inside the front wall was another sign announcing it to be the EVER-Care Home for Girls.

  Lily pushed open the gate walked up to the heavy front door and rang the bell. As she waited for someone to answer, she looked up at the house. Were her girls really inside this bleak, unwelcoming place? For a while it seemed that no one was going to answer the bell. She was about to ring again when she heard footsteps inside, and stepped back.

  A maid opened the door. ‘Yes?’

  ‘Good morning,’ Lily said, surprised, all her carefully rehearsed words deserting her.

  ‘Did you want something?’ asked the maid.

  ‘Yes,’ answered Lily gathering her wits. ‘Yes, I want to see whoever’s in charge here.’

  ‘You mean Mrs Hawkins?’

  ‘If she’s the one who runs the place.’

  ‘You’d better come in.’ The maid stood aside and Lily entered, finding herself in a large hallway. ‘If you wait there,’ the maid said, indicating a chair, ‘I’ll go and see if Mrs Hawkins can see you. What name shall I say?’ she added as an afterthought.

  ‘Mrs Sharples.’

  It was some ten minutes before she returned to say, ‘Mrs Hawkins will be with you in a minute,’ and another five minutes before a small, dark-haired woman emerged from the corridor. She looked at Lily and said, ‘Mrs Sharples?’

  ‘Yes, Lily Sharples.’

  ‘I’m Mrs Hawkins, the superintendent of Laurel House. Perhaps you’d like to come through to my office.’

  ‘Now, Mrs Sharples,’ she said as she closed the door behind them, ‘how may I help you?’

  ‘I’ve come to find my granddaughters,’ Lily said. ‘I’ve come to find Rita and Rosie.’

  ‘Rita and Rosie?’ The superintendent’s voice remained calmly enquiring, but Lily caught a flash in her eyes; the woman knew them.

  ‘Rita and Rosie Stevens. I know they’re here, ’cos that Miss Hopkins brought them here.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Mrs Sharples,’ said Mrs Hawkins, ‘I’m not sure I can help you. We never reveal the names of the children we care for to outside parties.’

  ‘I’m not an outside party!’ cried Lily indignantly. ‘I’m their grandmother.’

  ‘I don’t doubt it,’ said Mrs Hawkins reasonably, ‘but the children here are in our care—’

  ‘Well, Rita and Rosie shouldn’t be,’ interrupted Lily. ‘That’s what I’m trying to tell you. They was living with me but I had an accident, and while I was in the hospital they was brought here. I’m out now, so they can come home again.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Mrs Sharples,’ replied Mrs Hawkins, ‘but I’m afraid it’s not as easy as that. We’ve become their legal guardians, it is we who decide what is in their best interest. We don’t simply hand them over when someone walks in and asks for them.’

  ‘I understand that,’ Lily said, trying to sound as reasonable as the superintendent. ‘But I’d like to discuss it, explain, like.’

  ‘Of course,’ Mrs Hawkins’ lips twitched, ‘but that would mean speaking to our benefactress, Miss Vanstone. She makes the decisions with regard to the children here, I simply have the day to day care of the girls.’

  ‘So Rita and Rosie are here,’ said Lily.

  ‘I can say nothing about our children,’ Mrs Hawkins said firmly, thinking that this Mrs Sharples spelled trouble. The determined look in her eye said she wouldn’t be fobbed off. Mrs Hawkins dare not let the Stevens girls be returned to their grandmother. She had tried to break Rita Stevens’ spirit, to bring her to heel, as she’d done with other rebellious girls, but if Rita went to live with this grandmother, who seemed so like her, had the same determination in her eyes, who knew what the child would say, what stories she would tell? Mrs Hawkins wanted no report of her treatment of those in her charge escaping into the fresh air beyond the laurel hedges. She already had the passports Miss Vanstone had asked for, and soon the two girls would be safely out of reach.

  ‘So,’ she continued, ‘if you wish to make further enquiries, I suggest you make an appointment to see Miss Vanstone.’

  ‘And how do I do that?’ asked Lily.

  ‘I will give you a telephone number,’ replied Mrs Hawkins.

  ‘Isn’t she here? Can’t I speak to her now?’

  ‘No, I’m afraid not. But please do phone, I’m sure she’ll be happy to help if she can.’ She rang a bell on her desk, and the maid
appeared.

  ‘Ah, Betty, kindly show this lady out, will you?’

  The superintendent handed Lily a piece of paper. ‘Here is the number to ring if you wish to pursue this matter further, Mrs Sharples.’

  Lily took the paper and put it in her bag. She stood up. ‘Thank you,’ she said, ‘I certainly shall. I intend to find Rita and Rosie.’

  Mrs Hawkins looked at Betty Grover standing by the door and was annoyed she’d given her the chance to overhear Mrs Sharples’ business. Mrs Hawkins considered Betty a sly little thing, so she wouldn’t give the grandmother a chance to speak to her alone.

  ‘That’s all right, Betty, I don’t need you after all,’ she said. ‘I’ll see this lady out. You can go back to the kitchen.’

  The superintendent escorted Lily to the door, but once outside, Lily turned back. ‘I’m going to find my girls, you know,’ she said, ‘and you nor nobody else ain’t going to stop me.’

  Mrs Hawkins smiled and said, ‘Good afternoon, Mrs Sharples.’

  When she had shut the front door, Mrs Hawkins went back to her office and sat down to think. Clearly the Sharples woman wasn’t going to be put off; she’d soon be on the phone to Miss Vanstone asking about the Stevens girls. Mrs Hawkins picked up the phone.

  ‘Will you be coming into Laurel House today?’ she asked when Emily Vanstone answered.

  ‘No, why?’

  ‘I’ve had a visitor, and we need to discuss things.’

  ‘I see,’ sighed Miss Vanstone. ‘Perhaps on my way into town. I have a meeting at the council offices.’

  ‘In that case,’ said Mrs Hawkins, ‘we definitely need to talk before you go there.’

  ‘Why, what’s happened? Who came to see you?’

  ‘A Mrs Sharples, says she’s the Stevens girls’ grandmother. I think she’s going to be trouble. She wants to see you. She’s going to ring you for an appointment.’

  ‘I’m far too busy to see her,’ declared Miss Vanstone. ‘I’ll instruct Miss Drake to say so. You did give her the office number, didn’t you?’

  ‘Yes, but I doubt if she’ll accept a refusal,’ answered the superintendent. ‘If you don’t see her, I think she’ll try and take it further.’

  ‘There’s no further to take it,’ said Miss Vanstone. ‘What did she want, anyway?’

  ‘She wanted them back,’ replied Mrs Hawkins.

  ‘Wanted them back?’

  ‘To live with her. Apparently they used to live with her before they came to us. Now she wants them back.’

  ‘Well, that’s not going to happen,’ asserted Miss Vanstone.

  ‘I know that,’ said Mrs Hawkins, ‘but she won’t accept that from me. She needs to hear it from you, then she may give up trying. But she looks like a trouble-maker to me.’

  ‘I’ll give her an appointment in a week or so,’ conceded Miss Vanstone, ‘and then it will be too late. They’ll have left for Carrabunna,’ adding, ‘I’ll deal with this from now,’ before she disconnected.

  Mrs Hawkins sat back in her chair. Not my problem, she thought with relief.

  Mrs Hawkins was pleased enough to be employed by the EVER-Care Trust; her salary and living quarters were reasonable and it gave her scope to exercise authority over those beneath her, but she had no feeling for the children in her care. Rita’s continued intransigence vexed her, she was not used to defiance, and though Rita now seemed subdued, there was defiance in her eyes.

  Well, thought Mrs Hawkins, she’s on her way to Australia now, and she can take her defiance with her.

  Emily Vanstone leaned on her desk and considered what she’d just heard. Everything was arranged for the Stevens girls to travel at the weekend, and she’d allow nothing to interfere with those plans. She rang for her secretary, Miss Drake.

  ‘If a Mrs Sharples rings for an appointment, please be very polite, but no appointment until Friday week, understood?’

  ‘Certainly, Miss Vanstone.’

  We’ll have to see about this grandmother, Emily thought as she dialled the Children’s Office. When May Hopkins answered, Emily said, ‘I need some information, background information, on the Stevens girls.’

  ‘Oh dear,’ cried Miss Hopkins. ‘They’re not in trouble again, are they?’

  ‘Their grandmother has been to Laurel House looking for them,’ replied Miss Vanstone, ‘and she’ll be back. I need to know their family circumstances, exactly where they came from and why, before I see her. I need a proper report from you.’

  ‘Oh, I see, well, yes…’ Miss Hopkins sounded flustered. ‘Well, I must think—’

  ‘We have a meeting scheduled for this afternoon,’ interrupted Miss Vanstone. ‘I shall expect all the information to be available for me to take away then.’ She rang off before the Children’s Officer could reply.

  When they met that afternoon Miss Hopkins handed Emily Vanstone a folder. ‘It’s all in here as far as I can remember it,’ she said. ‘The mother remarried and there was a baby on the way. They’d been living with their maternal grandmother, but she was taken into hospital. The stepfather is a violent man, we had to remove them from his care while his wife was having the baby.’

  ‘They’d have been at risk if they’d stayed with him?’

  ‘Oh yes, almost certainly,’ replied Miss Hopkins, and seeing that her answer pleased Miss Vanstone, she added, ‘Nasty piece of work he is.’

  ‘I see. And when you went to fetch them, after they’d run away, was the grandmother there then?’

  ‘Oh no, I only met her for the first time the other day.’

  ‘You met her?’ Miss Vanstone raised an eyebrow. ‘You didn’t mention it.’

  Miss Hopkins flushed. ‘I’m sorry, Miss Vanstone, I didn’t know it was important. She came in here demanding to know where her granddaughters were.’

  ‘And you told her.’

  ‘No, of course not. I refused to tell her anything and she left.’

  ‘I wonder how she found out,’ Miss Vanstone mused. ‘Well, it’s clear she’s not going to drop the matter. Now that I understand the background, I can deal with her. Now, where’s everyone else? I thought this was a meeting of the Children’s Committee.’

  ‘It will be, I just wanted to brief you first.’ Miss Hopkins sounded more confident. ‘There’s a directive come down from the government encouraging fostering children in families. This means there will be fewer children coming through the system to you. I’ll do what I can, of course, Miss Vanstone. I have great faith in institutions like Laurel House. But,’ she gave a small shrug, ‘we are now obliged to consider family foster care first.’

  ‘I see.’ Emily Vanstone’s expression did not change.

  ‘And the thing is, well, if we do continue to send children to you, the home will have to have regular inspections.’

  ‘And you think we’d fail these inspections?’

  ‘It’ll be a question of staff qualifications, and well, none of your staff are properly qualified, are they?’ She took her courage in her hands and went on, ‘Mrs Hawkins, for example. She has great experience, I know, but I think she can be hard on the girls. That Rita Stevens accused her of beating her… with a belt. All lies, of course, but she did make the accusation in front of a policeman…’ She let her words hang in the air. When Miss Vanstone made no comment, she said, ‘If he follows it up… if it came out that I and the Children’s Committee knew of such accusations and did nothing about them… well, it could prove extremely difficult for me. I’m sure you understand.’

  Still faced with Miss Vanstone’s silence, May Hopkins lapsed into a silence of her own. For a long moment they sat there, and then Miss Vanstone got to her feet.

  ‘I don’t think you need to worry about Rita Stevens and her accusations,’ she said. ‘She won’t be with us beyond the end of the week. Please give my apologies to the Committee, I shan’t be attending the meeting today. Good afternoon, Miss Hopkins.’

  That evening Emily Vanstone called a staff meeting at Laurel House.


  ‘Ten girls will be leaving for Carrabunna on Sunday,’ she said. ‘Sheila Nevin, Angela Gardner, Dora French, Mary Shannon, Joan Cameron, Daisy Smart, Rita and Rose Stevens, Sylvia Brown and Susan Hart.’

  ‘Sheila’s a bit old, isn’t she?’ asked Mrs Smith.

  Miss Vanstone looked surprised at her intervention. ‘I have my reasons for sending Sheila,’ she said, but gave no further explanation. None of the other staff commented on the children who had been chosen. Few ever queried Miss Vanstone’s decisions. If anyone thought that Rosie, Sylvia and Susan, all aged five, were a little young to be sent to the other side of the world, she didn’t say so.

  ‘I also wanted to warn you that a woman called Mrs Sharples has been nosing her way round here. She’s the Stevens girls’ grandmother. If she should approach any of you, please refer her to me. Do not mention Australia or get into discussion with her about Rita and Rose. They are not her concern.

  ‘Now then, the usual preparations will have to be made, but I will tell the girls myself on Friday evening. Until then there is no need to mention their departure to any of them. Any questions? Everybody understand?’

  There were murmurs of assent, they all understood. The children concerned would only be told what was happening after they had finished school on Friday and by Monday they would have gone. Their schools would have no more warning than the children. The meeting broke up. As they were leaving the office, Miss Vanstone called Mrs Hawkins back.

  ‘There have been accusations about your treatment of some of the girls,’ she said. ‘I’m not going to enquire into those, discipline is something for you.’ She gave her superintendent a hard stare. ‘But in future I advise you to be a little more circumspect in how you discipline these girls. From now on Laurel House will be inspected on a regular basis, and I will not have the whole project put at risk by… shall we say, overzealous disciplinary measures. Should that happen, I should have to seek a new superintendent. Do I make myself clear?’

  ‘Yes, Miss Vanstone,’ murmured Mrs Hawkins.