The Girl Who Couldn't Smile Read Online Free PDF Page B

all over the girl,’ Tush said, shaking her head in disgust. ‘By the end of the day she was covered from head to toe. We’d got her one change of clothes but we just didn’t have any more for her.’
    ‘So you see,’ Susan said to Rufus, ‘we’ve tried lots of people. They decided not to work here because you were all so mean to them. And Shane might still choose not to stay. But you really need to give him a chance.’
    ‘He’s precious,’ Mitzi cooed. ‘Such a precious child.’
    ‘Where our stuff gone?’ Ross asked, rolling toast into doughy balls and setting these in a row on the table in front of him. ‘Why you gots all them paints?’
    ‘We’d like you to help us paint the room the way you’d like it,’ I said.
    ‘Him a painter fella?’ Milandra asked.
    ‘Why don’t you ask him?’ Tush said.
    ‘Hey, hairy boy,’ Milandra snapped – and was hit on the forehead by one of Ross’s toast balls, which he had flicked with great precision.
    ‘I presume you’re talking to me,’ I said, trying not to smile.
    ‘Yeah. You. You a painter guy?’ Milandra asked, as she rubbed the red spot on her face, eyeing Gus with undisguised venom.
    ‘No,’ I admitted. ‘I’m pretty damn terrible at painting. But I bet some of you are really good at it.’
    ‘Me good,’ Jeffrey said.
    ‘I’m good at painting,’ Gilbert said, in a wavery voice. ‘Mammy says I’m very good at painting.’
    ‘He hardly ever speaks,’ Tush hissed in my ear.
    I nodded, but continued talking to the children, who seemed to have declared a brief truce.
    ‘See?’ I said. ‘I bet all of you could add something beautiful to the room. We could make it really special if we pitched in and did our best.’
    There were general murmurs of assent. I held my breath. No one threw a mug or screamed abuse.
    ‘Can we paint now?’ Ross asked.
    ‘Well … yes, you can,’ I said.
    And so we began.

7
    The rest of the morning passed without any major problems. The first task was to paint over the existing surfaces with a base colour, upon which we planned to make a mural to which we would all contribute. The job did not require any great skill or dexterity – the paint could, quite literally, be thrown on. My intention was to do this as quickly as possible so the kids wouldn’t become bored, and we could get on with the far more interesting task of doing the actual pictures and scenes that would make the finished product. I was acutely aware that this could not happen that first day, as the initial coat of paint needed time to dry, and was hoping that the children’s destructive side would carry them through – that the pleasure of chucking paint at the wall would sustain their interest. Thankfully, it did. The sheer novelty of it, combined with being allowed to do what would previously have been frowned upon, won the day.
    We worked solidly for the first hour, then Tush and I took some of them outside to play. To my surprise, Milandra and Gus chose to stay at their posts with Susan, which we agreed to, on the condition that Susan called us if there were any problems.
    Little Scamps had a pleasant enclosed play area behind the main building. There were various pieces of equipment (swings, a see-saw, a climbing frame, a sandpit) and ample room for running and jumping. Tush and I kept a close eye on things, but the children expressed no desire for us to get involved in their activities. This was unusual – children usually crave the attention and approval of adults. There was also little interplay between them – they seemed mainly to entertain themselves. We had to separate a minor altercation, but in the main things were quiet and calm.
    Seeing that we were in for an easy ride, I perched my behind on one of the swings and beckoned Tush to join me. It was a beautiful morning, and I enjoyed the feel of the sun on my face. I had been trying to give up smoking, and while I had suffered mercifully few physical withdrawals, I didn’t