In a Class of Their Own by Millie Gray

wrong with her. This time her recurrent depression had been blacker than ever and she’d taken to her bed. She had lain there, simply drifting to and fro between merciful oblivion and unbearable distress. She’d hardly been able to lift her head off the pillow for more days than she could remember. All she could recall was that the children had taken it in turns to lift a cup of water or sweet tea to her parched mouth. It was the thought of what might happen to the children that had finally made her face life again.
    Nevertheless, five weeks had passed without any money coming in and … Her thoughts were interrupted when a fit of coughing overtook her.
    “Oh, Mam,” Hannah cried. “You’re just no well enough to go back to work yet.”
    “And you dinnae need tae,” Sam shouted. “Carrie and me hae been pinching tatties, tumshies and onything else we can find in the fairmers’ fields and sheds. So we’ll nae stairve.”
    Rachel shook her head. “Look, what I have to tell you is this.” She took a deep breath before announcing, “We’re goin’ to be evicted on Tuesday!”
    “Evicted?” Hannah and Carrie chorused.
    “Ye mean pit oot on the street?’ Sam said in horror.”
    “’Fraid so. You see, I didn’t have the money to pay this month’s rent.” Rachel turned away from the children to look out of the scullery window.
    “But they allow you one month,” Hannah interjected.
    “That’s true. But I couldn’t pay last month’s either,” Rachel continued, beginning to wipe over the table with a damp cloth.
    “But why Tuesday? I mean, that doesnae gie us much time to find the money,” protested Sam.
    “To tell you the truth, it was to have been this Thursday but it’s not Christian to toss poor beggars out just before Easter.”
    “Surely, you’re not saying that all their charity rolls away on Easter Monday,” Hannah snapped bitterly.
    Rachel nodded.
    “But this is oor hame,” said Sam angrily. “You fought to get it for us. We’ve all slaved to keep it – so there just has to be somethin’ we can dae.”
    “’Fraid not,” Rachel said wearily.
    “But, Mam, if we’re evicted, where will we go?” asked Carrie tearfully.
    “A Home,” Rachel replied.
    “Like that one you were once in?” queried Hannah.
    Rachel dearly wished now she hadn’t told them about the orphanage. No one had ever heard her condemn the orphanage. There were just too many children and not enough resources. Feeding, washing and beating the fear of God into the children was all they could achieve.
    She’d been lucky though, because her mother’s friend had petitioned the board when Rachel reached her fourth birthday. Anna had pleaded to be allowed to foster Rachel and they had readily agreed, providing Anna took Gabby, Rachel’s father, to court for her maintenance.
    Auntie Anna had always assured Rachel that she’d have taken her immediately Norma, her mother, had died were it not for the fact that she’d already taken in her brother’s three motherless bairns. And Rachel accepted that caring and providing for Bella, Jimmy and Rab had made it quite impossible for her to take on an infant too.
    As to Gabby providing maintenance – some hope! Rachel still cringed with shame as she remembered all too vividly how every Friday night Auntie Anna would sigh and mutter, “Hoo that Orphanage Board expects me to get yer ne’er-do-well faither to come up with yer keep when they couldnae, I just dinnae ken?”
    While Rachel was reminiscing, Carrie had started to have a tantrum – screaming, kicking, jumping and throwing anything she could lay her hands on up in the air.
    “Carrie!” her mother yelled, grabbing hold of her and shaking the girl until she stopped. “What the hell d’you think you’re up to?”
    “I just don’t want to go into a Home. I’ve got to be here when Alice comes home. And she’ll come here because this is our home. She knows we’re here and that we’re all waiting for her.”