Mummy Where Are You? (Revised Edition, new) Read Online Free PDF

as an adventure.  He knew that as far as people we met were concerned, we were visiting the United States to see relatives – that we came from London, England – not our real home.   Although I doubt,  had we told the truth, many would have known of the Island's existence.  Such a small insignificant place, but omnipotent in its cruelty and power to destroy lives.
                  The sun was shining, we decided to take a walk and explore our whereabouts.   We had already located the buses and the shopping Mall and had a supermarket within  walking distance, so had stocked up with a few food items which we could eat in our rooms in Tupperware boxes.  We tried to only eat in the restaurant once a day to ensure our bill did not mount up too fast as we had no idea how long we would be there before taking another step.   We filled our time with going swimming at the local YMCA – walking the two miles to the Mall for supplies – watching television in our room and swimming each day in the small pool attached to the hotel.  
     
                  When weather permitted we purchased a football and played on the grass.  All the things we would have done at home in the holidays.  We even found other children to play with who were on their way to Summer camps and staying at the Travel Lodge en route.  I had the weight of our future on my shoulders, but to my son who trusted me to resolve the grown up problems, it was just a Summer holiday, not unlike holidays abroad we had had before.
                  We walked out into the sunlit day and headed down the highway.  We were going to catch a bus down town where various activities went on through the Summer - Some we had already been to, like a street festival that was an annual event – where a variety of buskers travelled from far and wide to show off their skills.  
                  On our way to the bus stop, we took a left turn into a housing estate that was advertising open house days.  There seemed no harm in looking, so we walked through it.  There were some beautiful elevated bungalows – mostly a new development, the beginning of which was mainly a quiet neighbourhood of retired people, leading into houses just built that seemed from the children playing out in the street, to be more family homes.  It struck me how quiet, safe and well appointed these little houses were.   Small front and back yards, well- equipped parks and play areas nestling between the estates with children happily playing.  It seemed an ideal place for us and I wondered if it might be possible to somehow make this happen.  I had no idea how, but willed that the answers would come.
                  The following weekend my uncle and aunt arrived to drop off a parcel of clothes I had asked my father to send out.  We had left with so little in our cases, having packed so hurriedly, we needed some essentials and didn’t want to have to buy things we already had.   My aunt and uncle were still fearful and reluctant to be associated with us but agreed to come and look at the development with us.   They insisted it would be out of our reach, but curiosity must have got the better of them because we drove to the estate and I walked into one of the show houses that was the show home for some still being built.  The price was extortionate.  I had gifted our home to my father some weeks before we left when the Court costs were mounting – and I knew he would help us financially now – but even so, it seemed completely out of our reach.  We had already looked into renting and had drawn blanks.  We had no history in America and no references and the places my aunt and uncle picked out for us to look at which included a camp site in the middle of nowhere that was barely fit for a dog, let alone any human, had been rejected out of hand. 
     
                  I had to find a proper home for us. My little boy