The Quiet Child

Nadine Jackson-Croker

Description

The air hostess waited until all but one of the passengers had alighted from the Singapore flight to Heathrow. She looked down at the sad child sitting so quietly and patiently, waiting to know what was to happen next. The hostess sighed, and, bent gently toward the child, taking her hand, she helped her out of her seat and into a warm coat, despite the sunny late September weather outside.

Sujets

• Fiction Jeunesse
• Juvenilee Fiction

Informations

• Publié par: Xlibris UK
• Date de parution: 07 mai 2023
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781664118782
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 2 Mo

Extrait

The Quiet Child
Nadine Jackson-Croker

Copyright © 2023 by Nadine Jackson-Croker. 849749
 
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.
 
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
 
 
Xlibris
UK TFN: 0800 0148620 (Toll Free inside the UK)
UK Local: 02 0369 56328 ([phone] from outside the UK)
www.xlibrispublishing.co.uk
 
 
ISBN:
Softcover
978-1-6641-1879-9

EBook
978-1-6641-1878-2
 
 
Library of Congress Control Number:2023902631
 
 
 
Rev. date: 05/05/2023
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
1
T he air hostess waited until all but one of the passengers had alighted from the Singapore flight to Heathrow. She looked down at the sad child sitting so quietly and patiently, waiting to know what was to happen next. The hostess sighed, and, bent gently toward the child, taking her hand, she helped her out of her seat and into a warm coat, despite the sunny late August weather outside. She pulled a small case from the overhead locker, and lead the child by the hand, from the aircraft with the rest of the crew.
Once they had reached the terminal, the hostess handed the child over to a kindly plump lady with permed brown hair and bright red lipstick. “You’ll take care of her now? Find her luggage?” She asked.
 

 
The plump lady smiled broadly. “Of course, I will make sure she has everything, and take her through customs. I understand that a family member will be there to meet her.”
The hostess thanked her. Bending down told the child that she would be all right now. The child looked uncertainly at the plump lady, but, as the hostess was hurrying away, she followed her, to where the luggage was making its slow way around and around the carousel.
“You tell me which is your case, can you see it?” She was asked. She watched for a while, and eventually pointed out a large battered trunk that was tied up with ropes.
The plump lady hauled it from the carousel, and told the child to stand beside it whilst she fetched a trolly. “Now, don’t you worry, I’m sure that there will be somebody to meet you when we go through to the arrivals.”
The child, still very pale, nodded.
“Do you know who will be there?” Asked the lady.
The child shook her head, but did not speak. She had difficulty keeping up with the plump lady as she walked swiftly through border control, then and toward a pair of green doors, along a wide passage way through a shop and out into a huge space filled with people, most of whom were either greeting their loved ones, or still searching the people emerging from the depths of the airport. The plump lady led her through the barrier, and stopped, looking about her, as if she was searching for somebody to come and claim the silent child.
They stood there for ten minutes or so, before a tall slender, very beautiful lady approached them.
Anna Brent had blond hair, which she wore loose down her back, but brushed back from her face and held in place with a large gold hair clip. She had grey eyes a short straight nose above a generous mouth.She was dressed in a neat straight grey skirt and a beautifully cut jacket which she wore over a pale pink silk blouse. She came straight toward them, and stooped down to talk to the child. “Hello, there is no mistaking you, you just have to be Rosie, is that right?”
Rosie nodded.
The plump lady asked “Are you Mrs Brent?”
“Why, yes, and this must be my little niece.”
The plump lady smiled. “Good, She has had a good flight. She did eat a little, but hasn’t spoken a word.” She hesitated awkwardly.
“Yes, well thank you Mrs..er?” Not waiting for and answer she went on. “I expect the child is still in shock. We shall do our level best to make sure that she has a loving and comfortable home.” With that she turned around and signalled to a man in a chauffeur’s uniform, who came forward and took charge of the trolly, and led the way out of the airport.
A large highly polished limousine was waiting for them. The chauffeur the rear door and invited the child to enter. Mrs Brent followed. They waited while he loaded the luggage into the boot, climbed into the driver seat and started forward.
Once they were under way, the lady turned to Rosie and speaking softly she said. “I know your name, Rosie, but we have never met. My name is Anna, and I’m your aunt. You are more than welcome in our home. I have always longed for a daughter of my own, and I hope that we shall get to love each other over time.”
Rosie turned to look at her. She didn’t speak, but she did try a slightly awkward smile.
The journey took two and a half hours, but they did stop on the way so that Anna could give Rosie some lunch, of which she ate little. After what seemed to her a very long time, with Anna telling her all about her new home, the car left the motor way and started through pretty rustic towns and villages, eventually turning into a country lane, and passing fields and woodland. Fifteen minutes later the car turned again, this time through a pair of high ornate metal gates, that seemed to open all by themselves as they approached. They drove on down a long avenue of mature trees before it eventually opened up into a wide gravel area in front of a mansion the like of which Rosie thought only existed in books.
“Here we are.” Said her aunt, and waited for the door to be opened.
The chauffeur helped her out, and then took Rosie’s hand. He smiled at her and indicated that she should follow Anna. They mounted a dozen worn shallow steps on to a wide portico, before reaching a huge studded front door which was opened as soon as they reached it, by a very important looking gentleman dressed in sober black with an immaculate white shirt and black tie.
“Good afternoon Mam.” He said with a slight bow.
“Good afternoon Sadler. I have brought us a pretty niece as you can see.”
The man smiled down at Rosie. “You are very welcome.” He said in a deep pleasant voice.
“Rosie, Sadler is our butler. Anything you need, or need to know you may ask him. Or, there is Mrs Chaste, who is our housekeeper. But you won’t see much of her.”
Rosie, who was used to the gentle grace of her Amah and the lovely Malay people who had looked after her family in Singapore, suddenly felt rather scared of this very erect and well dressed person.
Sadler smiled down at her. “Everyone here is looking forward to welcoming you to your new home, miss” He said. He turned to her Aunt. “Mrs Baines is ready and waiting upstairs ma’am.”
“Thank you, I shall take her straight up.” She replied. Indicating that Rosie should follow she led the way up a fight of oak stairs that climbed up and around to the floor above. She turned and swiftly walked along a carpeted hall with doors on one side and long windows on the other. At the end of this was a full length window overlooking a well kept lawns. Here she turned right on to a similar long hallway also with windows along one side. Rosie wondered what was behind all the closed door that they passed. At the end of this hall they came to a door which opened, at last, into a warm comfortable sitting room which was occupied by a short, but very kindly woman was standing at an ironing board ironing a man’s shirt.
“Ah, there you are Baines. I have brought you somebody very special.” She turned and encouraged Rosie into the room. “This, Baines, is my niece, Rosie.”
Mrs Baines put down the iron, and switched it off. She held out her hand to Rosie, as if she were really an important person. Rosie hesitated before shaking her hand. “Don’t worry Mrs Brent, I’ll take great care of her.”
“Thank you, Baines, I’ll leave you to get settled in.” She turned and said to Rosie. “I’m sure Baines will be very helpful. I shall see you a little later on at dinner. We all want you to feel at home here.” She bent and gave her a kiss in her cheek, then before turning and walked away.
Rosie stood still in the middle of the room, uncertain what to do. Mrs Baines sat down on one of the two very comfortable chairs and beckoned the child to her. She didn’t pull her on to her knee, she just put and reassuring arm about her shoulders.
“I expect that this is all very strange. Very different from Singapore, and a lot colder?” Rosie nodded, but didn’t speak. Mrs Baines went on.
“The Judge and Mrs Brent call me Baines, or sometimes Mary. The staff call me Mrs Baines, but my friends call me Mary. I would be very happy if you could bring yourself to call me Mary.” Rosie nodded. Mary smiled. “I think a cup of tea and a chocolate biscuit is needed now, or would you like to see your room first?” Rosie shook her head.
Mary got to her feet and busied herself with a hot drink and a comforting chocolate biscuit. Once that was disposed of, she took Rosie’s hand and led her out of her sitting room, and past one closed door.
“That’s my room.” She told her. “And you are to have the room right next door to mine, so that if you need anything, day or night, you can just knock, on the door, or even on the wall if you want to.” She opened th