The Cast-Off Kids Read Online Free PDF Page B

more times after that when he phoned to visit over the following months.
    ‘You promise faithfully you’ll come this time?’
    ‘Yes.’
    But he never did. Gradually they got used to their dad being unreliable. But at least he rang occasionally . . . unlike their mother, who didn’t figure in their lives at all. Even Daisy
didn’t remember her, and I think they almost started to forget about Rocky too. Well, I’m sure Paul did, but Daisy still occasionally mentioned him: ‘Do you think Daddy would like
this top?’
    It was sad for her, and hard for them both to have to watch other children’s parents coming to take them out. It was seeing Daisy’s solemn silence that hurt me. I always found it
difficult to watch a child, especially so young, having to harden gradually every time their mum or dad didn’t turn up. If only parents realised. I used to think:
Oh, for goodness
sake!
    The one thing that helped ease Daisy’s disappointment in her dad, over this time, was her special status in helping me look after our bush-baby, Laurel. Every now and
then, she would come and whisper in my ear, ‘Baby Laurel hungry’, even though she was sleeping soundly, or she would tell me it was ‘nappy time’. Often, Laurel would wake
only moments after, as if on Daisy’s cue, which was very obliging of her.
    I showed Daisy how to fold the nappies and let her practise. And sometimes Daisy would sit next to me on the sofa with her little legs stuck straight out, holding the bottle up like I’d
shown her, to help feed little Laurel.
    Laurel’s head wound had healed up now and the stitches were already fading away. Everybody loved her. She was such an easy-going babe, flashing her smile at everyone who came near. But she
seemed most content when Daisy was with her. And these were happy times for Daisy too, who was often reluctant to join in with the other children’s games, but always happy to
‘help’ me.
    Paul, by contrast, was growing into more of a lovable tyke every day, completely at ease in the only family he could remember.
    We had a happy band of children at that time, who all got on well together, apart from the odd hiccups. Chrissy, our eldest, was the first to go to school. Up till that point, she had been a
quiet, gentle child, her big blue eyes always smiling, as she helped the little ones with dressing or picked them up when they fell over.
    But gradually, as Chrissy settled in at school, she became moody and occasionally tearful. Then her teacher asked me to come in and ‘have a word’ about her frequent outbursts. I
could hardly believe this was the same child. It made me think.
    ‘It occurred to me later,’ I said to Mike that evening, ‘that it’s only since she started school that her birth-mother has come back into her life.’
    ‘Oh yes.’ He nodded. ‘But shouldn’t that be a good thing?’
    ‘Not Chrissy’s mum. Every time she has taken her out for the afternoon, Chrissy has had to spend the evening in the toilet. And when I ask Chrissy if she had a good time, she always
says she just sat in the pub, eating crisps, nuts and raisins.’
    Meanwhile, Katie was thriving and her burn scars were a little less livid now. She had developed dimples and an infectious giggle which charmed us all. Big friendly Ronnie was always the joker,
while dancing-girl Sheena was the one who loved tidying up. Sheena and Daisy, just a year apart, shared a room and got on well, but they often played separately. Daisy didn’t interact much
with the others and tended to enjoy solitary activities, like looking at books, or doing colouring and puzzles.
    The two brothers, glum Peter and short-sighted Brian, had been with us for nearly a year now. We were all protective of Brian, especially since the Dalek episode, and they were lovely,
well-behaved boys, so we were sad to hear from their social worker that they would be going home in a few days’ time. They had originally come to us because their single