The Legacy: Trouble Comes Disguised As Family (Unspoken Book 2) by T. Belshaw (warren buffett book recommendations .txt) 📕

‘It was against my better judgement, Mrs Mollison, but they were a pair and no one wanted to take two of them on. The Ropers looked a bit rough, I’ll admit, and I was sure it was the eighteen shillings and sixpence a week they’d be paid from the government that attracted them, rather than the moral desire to help children in need. But, as it was, they were the last kids in the church hall and the Ropers were they only prospective guardians, so I had to let them go. I said I’d look in on them once they’d had time to settle in but I got rather busy, what with all the new wartime regulations and what have you.’

Mr Starcher unbuttoned his thick overcoat and wiped beads of sweat from his forehead. It was always very warm in our kitchen.

‘Anyway. I managed to find an hour yesterday and thought I’d nip over and see how they were getting along together. I had thought about them during the past six weeks, but there always seemed to be something more urgent to attend to.’

He looked down at his boots.

‘The Ropers wouldn’t let me in to begin with. When I finally threatened them with the police, Mrs Roper opened the kitchen door and allowed me to enter. The place was awash with empty beer bottles and old fish and chip wrappings. As I stepped inside, Mr Roper appeared from upstairs wearing just his vest and long johns. The kids, as I soon found out, were locked in a cupboard under the stairs.

‘Mrs Roper bleated that they had to lock them in because they kept trying to run away.

‘Mr Roper was far more concerned with losing the weekly allowance than losing the children. He wanted to know if he’d still be paid the week’s money they were owed, as they had ‘expenses’ to consider. The kids didn’t look like they’d been fed in days. They were wearing the clothes they’d arrived in, their hands and faces were filthy, they even had bits of cobweb hanging off them. They’d been in that cupboard a good while because they were blinking and holding their hands in front of their eyes when they came out.

‘I got them away from there as fast as I could. We got their cases back but Mr Roper had sold their gas masks, so they will need to be issued with new ones. I telephoned Mrs Hopkins, the school head who had been with me the night the children arrived, and asked her if she knew of anyone trustworthy who might take the kids on for a short time while we found them a permanent placing. She said she’d ask you; she thought the farm would be the perfect place for them to get over their recent experiences.’

He tugged at the sleeve of his overcoat, not able to look me in the eye.

‘I’ve spent the entire day phoning people I thought might be willing to help, but as yet, I’ve had no concrete offers. There have been a couple of maybes, and a possibly, but that’s it. I’m sorry to have dumped them on you like this, but do you think you could keep them for another week or so? There’s a lady in Gillingham that might be interested but, as Gillingham has had a lot of its own children evacuated, I don’t think it’s a viable option, really.’

I put my hand on his arm.

‘Mr Starcher. I don’t mind if the children stay with me until the day the war is over. They’re very welcome here. They’ve enjoyed their first day with us and they seem very keen to learn about farm life. They want to help me feed the animals tomorrow. They have nice warm clothes and as I promised them last night, they will never, ever, feel hungry again, not while they are under my roof.’

A tear dropped down the council official’s cheek. He sniffled as he wiped it away.

‘I felt so guilty. The poor little things… I sent them there.’

I stepped forward and gave him a hug.

‘It wasn’t your fault. You had no choice.’

‘I should have checked on them.’

‘You were busy and… well, look at them. They’re absolutely fine now. They didn’t come to any real harm, distressing as their circumstances were.’

I pulled out a seat and Mr Starcher sat down. Looking across the kitchen, I held out my hand to the two seats opposite.

‘Harriet, Stephen, sit down, please. It’s going to be all right.’

Reluctantly, the children sat down at the table, looking at each other, me, Miriam, anywhere but at Mr Starcher. Miriam placed a reassuring hand on each of their shoulders and I poured the seemingly, ever-boiling kettle over fresh tea leaves.

‘Now, Harriet, Stephen. There is a question I have to ask before I go.’ Mr Starcher bit his lip and swallowed a huge lump in his throat. When he spoke again his voice was cracked and emotional. ‘Firstly, I want to say how sorry I am for sending you to those people. I honestly didn’t know that you’d be treated in that manner.’ He looked down at the table before speaking again. ‘However, Mrs Mollison has agreed to let you stay here while we try to find you a permanent home. What do you say? Would you like to stay at the farm?’

‘We don’t want to leave,’ said Harriet.

‘Can’t we just stay here until it’s safe to go home again?’ Stephen looked at me, his face full of hope.

Miriam didn’t give me a chance to say a word.

‘You’re going nowhere,’ she said, presenting them with a kiss on the top of their heads. ‘You’re part of our family now.’

Stephen looked at me, I smiled and nodded encouragingly. He leapt off his seat and threw himself into my arms. Harriet, still uncertain, fixed Mr Starcher with a stern look.

‘Is it true? You won’t take us away again?’

Mr Starcher shook his head. ‘No, this is your home now and I’m sure you’ll be very happy here.