Four Waifs on Our Doorstep Read Online Free PDF Page B

their excitement turned to frenzy as they held their
new clothes up against themselves, like a speed-fashion show. They tossed one item aside to look at the next, and got everyone’s things muddled up in the process.
    ‘Look at me,’ demanded Anita, strutting about between the toys to show off a new outfit with a suggestive pose. ‘I’m a princess.’
    ‘No!’ Caroline cried. ‘Me princess.’
    ‘You can’t be. I’m the prettiest.’
    ‘No, me!’
    ‘You’re an ugly cunt.’
    ‘You a cunt,’ Caroline wailed, lunging at her sister.
    We had to separate them before they damaged each other, or their new clothes. It was bedlam all over again, with fists and swear words flying – no control unless we stepped in, and this
carried on through the afternoon.
    ‘My God,’ grimaced Marion at one point. ‘This day will live with me forever!’ That broke the tension as we shared a laugh.
    Meanwhile, despite all our efforts to help him join in, Simon continued to sit on his own, detached and silent. I had to find a way to reach him.

4
Bath-time Blues
    ‘Caroline has sustained a recent fracture, about two weeks old, which has not been reported or treated and must have been very painful . . . On examination, she
     was also found to have multiple bruises of different ages over her trunk, scalp, arms and upper legs. Over forty bruises and injuries were documented. The consultant declared that the pattern
     of these bruises as well as the number are in keeping with non-accidental injury.’
    Social worker’s notes while in A & E, 6 March 1997
    ‘Y ou said we can go and get some food,’ Hamish said, tugging at my sleeve, as they all stuffed jam sandwiches into their mouths in
their umpteenth mini-meal break, halfway through the afternoon.
    ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘You can help me to clear this lot up and then we’ll go.’
    He immediately picked up the plates, carrying them at an angle back to the kitchen and dropping crumbs all the way – very Hansel and Gretel.
    All our visitors left and off we went on our first expedition together, the four children, Mike and me, all squashed into our ordinary car. (If the children were staying, we would definitely
have to change that.)
    ‘What do we need?’ asked Mike.
    ‘Everything,’ said Hamish.
    ‘Well, not the whole supermarket,’ I added. ‘We need to leave a few things for other customers. But if you see anything that you want, you can just tell me.’
    ‘Anything?’ repeated Hamish, with a look of wonder.
    ‘Yes, any food.’
    As we piled out of the car and went into the front entrance of the supermarket, Hamish’s face was a picture of wonder.
    ‘Bloody hell!’ He had never gone into a large supermarket like this through the front entrance, like normal people. For him it was always round the back to the bins.
    Mike took one trolley and I took another. I popped Simon into mine, while Hamish, Anita and Caroline ran off in all directions. It was like emptying a bag of ferrets – they went wild. I
had to leave Mike with both the trolleys while I ran after them, trying to keep them in sight – an impossible task. It was bedlam, and of course you know what people are like. There were
tut-tuts from some, and out-loud complaints from others.
    The children’s faces were alight, looking at all the food – rows and rows of wonderful things to eat. They all ran down the aisles, grabbing anything that appealed to them. Hamish
went straight for the cornflakes – box after box of them. I had to stop him putting any more in the trolley after the fifth box.
    ‘We can come back and buy some more tomorrow if we need them,’ I said.
    We put huge tubs of ice cream into the trolleys, and all the other bits they wanted.
    ‘You can go and choose some new biscuits for the biscuit tin, if you like,’ I suggested. You would think I had offered them the moon.
    They raced off to find the right aisle and scrambled their way along, ransacking the biscuit shelves and leaving a