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wide, flat hat perched on top of her head, and she was wearing a long, jade green skirt and jacket, which strained across her hips, the buttons of the jacket appearing quite desperate to release themselves. Mercy looked up into a face with dark, rather hooded eyes, round cheeks which protruded more as the woman smiled down at her, and thick lips between which Mercy could see square yellow teeth.
    ‘Well, say something, Mercy!’ Miss O’Donnell urged her.
    ‘Where’s Dorothy?’ Her voice had risen high in panic.
    Miss Rowney laughed nervously. ‘Dorothy is one of our staff,’ she explained to Mrs Gaskin. ‘Mercy is rather attached to her. As you know, Mercy, Dorothy’s very poorly at the moment – touch of pneumonia, I gather. She won’t be with us for some time. Never mind that dear. Is there anything you want to ask Mrs Gaskin?’
    Mercy looked up again into the face of this woman whose relentless yellow smile was beating down on her. She could think of nothing to ask about another life, for until now she had known only the almost unchanging rhythm of the orphanage and school. All she wanted was Dorothy.
    Eventually she said, ‘Do I ’ave to take my bed?’
    More tittering from the women.
    ‘It’s awright, bab,’ Mrs Gaskin said, her posh accent slipping for a moment. ‘I’ve got a bed for you at home. And you’ll have some pretty clothes for yourself and some toys. We’ll ’ave a lovely time together, won’t we?’ She turned to Miss Rowney and asked with sudden abruptness, ‘Can I take ’er now then?’
    ‘’Er, yes – a few papers to sign of course. Matron, could you make sure Mercy’s things are ready?’
    ‘Oh they are,’ Miss O’Donnell said fervently. ‘Yes, all shipshape.’
    Miss Rowney handed Mrs Gaskin her payment for Mercy’s first week. ‘You’ll be sent the rest regularly. It’s only a supplement, of course,’ she said. ‘But then your husband . . .’
    ‘Oh yes.’ Mrs Gaskin nodded hard. ‘Albert’s earning a good wage. But could you give a week or two’s in advance – for a few extras for ’er like?’ Miss Rowney hesitated, then handed over a ten-shilling note.
    ‘We shall of course be calling on you to see how things are going, Mrs Gaskin,’ she said. ‘And if there are any problems – which I’m sure there won’t be – you can always contact us.’
    ‘Oh I’m sure we’ll get on very well, won’t we, Mercy? Got a coat, has she?’
    Mercy found herself wrapped in an old gaberdine and Mrs Gaskin carried her bag to the door.
    ‘Before you go, Mercy—’ Miss Rowney actually had to lay her hand on Mrs Gaskin’s arm to stop her rushed progress out of the door. Her tone changed to that of memorized speech. ‘We’d like to present you with a little gift, as we do to all children who go forth from here. We know you’ll take the good name of the Hanley Homes out into the world with you.’
    Mercy found a parcel wrapped in thin brown paper laid in her hands.
    ‘I want Dorothy!’ Tears welled in her eyes. How could she go without saying goodbye to the only adult who had ever shown her any kindness?
    ‘Don’t be silly, dear, Dorothy’s not here.’ Miss Rowney pushed her briskly towards the door. ‘We’ll tell her where you’ve gone, don’t fret.’
    None of the other children were summoned to say goodbye as Miss O’Donnell and Miss Rowney saw Mercy off with no embraces, kisses or demonstrations of any kind.
    ‘Be good now, dear!’ Miss Rowney called as Mrs Gaskin took the girl’s hand and led her down into the road.
    ‘Good luck,’ Miss O’Donnell shouted, hissing to Miss Rowney, ‘and won’t they just darn well need it.’
    Still holding the parcel, Mercy turned and looked back at them as they stood, arms raised benevolently, on the very step where she had arrived as a newborn baby. She was too bewildered even to wave.

Part Two

 
     

Chapter Four

    ‘Come on, get moving then – we’ve got a ways to go from ’ere.’ Mrs Gaskin