We were told to stand outside the next day at noon wearing our Sunday best. Even our brother Phil was to be shaved and taken out on his bed, which had wheels since it was one of those hospital beds hired for the terminally ill. Immediately after the voice of the Headmistress faded out of the loudspeakers, the waltz-like tune that accompanied our few leisure hours was turned up, and my sister Simone started browsing through our old clothes with as much delight as if they were new.
'I knew something exciting was going to happen!' she cried, 'and that I had to do my hair!’
‘You curl your hair every Sunday for church, Simone,’ I said, tapping mindlessly on the table.
‘Oh really? What about this hat? I got it outside the annual clothing basket! That’s more than just coincidence!’
‘You've been working extra hours all winter! Just like in the autumn and last summer! You do that all the time!’ was my reply.
‘Don’t be horrid, Marie! It’s just a bit of fun!’ Simone snapped. I looked at her through narrowed eyes. She hated that.
‘Look,’ she moved on, ‘the blue dress fits you perfectly! We’ve hardly worn it, Marie.’
‘Because mamma bought it that last Christmas.’
‘She bought the yellow one from Tandy’s, too. Why not the blue one?’
‘She used the last money from the Thompsons to get it. I don’t wanna spoil it, that’s why.’
‘Dresses are to be worn, Marie. Mamma would have loved to see you on it!’
‘Do you know if mamma bought anything for herself that last Christmas?’
‘Course she did!’
‘She didn’t! She bought us presents, a meal and the train tickets that brought us here. She told Phil to be a good brother and look after us. Then she kissed us goodbye and left us at the door. Nobody told us she'd died this whole year! You were too young to know what was going on, of course!’ I knew I was being cruel, but I couldn’t stop myself. Simone started to cry.
‘I was just a baby, Marie!’ I sighed and put my arms around her.
‘I’m sorry,’ I whispered.
‘Me too.’
‘Here, have my hankie.’
‘You curl your hair every Sunday for church, Simone,’ I said, tapping mindlessly on the table.
‘Oh really? What about this hat? I got it outside the annual clothing basket! That’s more than just coincidence!’
‘You've been working extra hours all winter! Just like in the autumn and last summer! You do that all the time!’ was my reply.
‘Don’t be horrid, Marie! It’s just a bit of fun!’ Simone snapped. I looked at her through narrowed eyes. She hated that.
‘Look,’ she moved on, ‘the blue dress fits you perfectly! We’ve hardly worn it, Marie.’
‘Because mamma bought it that last Christmas.’
‘She bought the yellow one from Tandy’s, too. Why not the blue one?’
‘She used the last money from the Thompsons to get it. I don’t wanna spoil it, that’s why.’
‘Dresses are to be worn, Marie. Mamma would have loved to see you on it!’
‘Do you know if mamma bought anything for herself that last Christmas?’
‘Course she did!’
‘She didn’t! She bought us presents, a meal and the train tickets that brought us here. She told Phil to be a good brother and look after us. Then she kissed us goodbye and left us at the door. Nobody told us she'd died this whole year! You were too young to know what was going on, of course!’ I knew I was being cruel, but I couldn’t stop myself. Simone started to cry.
‘I was just a baby, Marie!’ I sighed and put my arms around her.
‘I’m sorry,’ I whispered.
‘Me too.’
‘Here, have my hankie.’
Simone bit her lip.
‘It’s clean, I swear.’
‘It’s clean, I swear.’
She wiped her eyes and blew onto the white cotton handkerchief with all her might.
‘At least you knew what mama looked like,’ she sniffed, ‘no matter how hard I try, I can’t picture her face.’
‘You look so much like her,’ I said.
‘At least you knew what mama looked like,’ she sniffed, ‘no matter how hard I try, I can’t picture her face.’
‘You look so much like her,’ I said.
Simone’s face beamed, ‘really?’
‘Yeah, a lot more than me.’
The next morning, Simone sprang out of bed and went straight to the mirror to do her hair. I went to Phil’s room to shave him. My brother was quiet as usual, with the palms of his hands resting on his lap and his stare fixed on them. I enjoyed shaving him; it had brought us closer, even if it didn’t involve much talking. When my hand touched his cheek, he closed his eyes and smiled. It worried me sick to think that his heart could give up on him any time. You couldn’t tell he was that ill by looking at him because he was handsome and so sweet. He used to date a girl called Anne. But she left town before he was diagnosed. Way before mother died.
‘Yeah, a lot more than me.’
The next morning, Simone sprang out of bed and went straight to the mirror to do her hair. I went to Phil’s room to shave him. My brother was quiet as usual, with the palms of his hands resting on his lap and his stare fixed on them. I enjoyed shaving him; it had brought us closer, even if it didn’t involve much talking. When my hand touched his cheek, he closed his eyes and smiled. It worried me sick to think that his heart could give up on him any time. You couldn’t tell he was that ill by looking at him because he was handsome and so sweet. He used to date a girl called Anne. But she left town before he was diagnosed. Way before mother died.
At five minutes to noon, Simone was still in possession of the mirror. She had put on the pretty white frock with our spring coat on top. I couldn’t think of a dress to pick, out of the five or six my sister and I shared, so I put on shorts and threw grandpa’s heavy jacket over my shoulders.
‘You look like a boy, Marie.’
‘You look like a boy, Marie.’
‘Who cares? I’m comfortable.’
A tap, tap on the microphone introduced the voice of the head carer through the loudspeakers.
‘Children, may I have your attention, please! It’s time for the picture! Please stand outside your dormitories and get ready. Now!’
A tap, tap on the microphone introduced the voice of the head carer through the loudspeakers.
‘Children, may I have your attention, please! It’s time for the picture! Please stand outside your dormitories and get ready. Now!’
We set Phil’s bed lengthwise on the balcony. He frowned, glanced around, and then looked back at me, like demanding an explanation. Whilst shaving him, I had told to him what was going to happen. Maybe I didn’t explain it well; photography was a novelty even for adults in those days, and I was only a child. Or maybe it was just the drugs that were making him dazed again. He had been given so many. I pinched his cheek softly; stroke his hair to reassure him.
‘You look beautiful,’ I said, ‘just smile.’ There was a spark in his eyes and his white teeth shone under the sun, like a mother of pearl necklace.
‘That’s a good boy,’ Simone said to him. She stood, looking very neat, with her hands on the handrail. She was graceful, ever since she was born. Mama always said she would grow up to become a proper lady. I leant against the banister full on, my elbows resting on the railing, and stared openly at the occupants of the motorcar that had just stopped at the entrance. To our right and left, lines of excited children in their Sunday best giggled and glared in the same direction.
‘That’s a good boy,’ Simone said to him. She stood, looking very neat, with her hands on the handrail. She was graceful, ever since she was born. Mama always said she would grow up to become a proper lady. I leant against the banister full on, my elbows resting on the railing, and stared openly at the occupants of the motorcar that had just stopped at the entrance. To our right and left, lines of excited children in their Sunday best giggled and glared in the same direction.
Along with the photographer came two elegant, young ladies. The Headmistress introduced them as the daughters of our benefactor. They stood with us for the picture, and then moved to stand outside the other children’s dorms to also appear in their pictures. To this day, I find it very odd that, in this my only family picture from those dark years at the orphanage, there are two people neither my brother nor my sister nor I know anything about.
