The Children Left Behind

THE CHILDREN LEFT BEHIND A COMPLETELY HEART-WRENCHING AND UPLIFTING HISTORICAL NOVEL LIZZIE PAGE BOOKS BY LIZZIE PAGE Shilling Grange Children’s Home Series The Orphanage A Place to Call Home An Orphan’s Song The Children Left Behind The Wartime Nanny The Forgotten Girls When I Was Yours Daughters of War The War Nurses Available in audio Shilling Grange Children’s Home Series The Orphanage (Available in the UK and the US) A Place to Call Home (Available in the UK and the US) An Orphan’s Song (Available in the UK and the US) The Wartime Nanny (Available in the UK and the US) The Forgotten Girls (Available in the UK and the US) The War Nurses (Available in the UK and the US) CONTENTS Letter Letter Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Letter Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Letter Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Letter Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Chapter 35 Chapter 36 Chapter 37 Chapter 38 Chapter 39 Chapter 40 Chapter 41 Chapter 42 Letter Chapter 43 Chapter 44 Chapter 45 BBC NEWS Chapter 46 Chapter 47 Chapter 48 Chapter 49 Chapter 50 Chapter 51 Hear More from Lizzie Books by Lizzie Page A Letter From Lizzie The Orphanage A Place to Call Home An Orphan's Song The Wartime Nanny The Forgotten Girls When I Was Yours Daughters of War The War Nurses Acknowledgements * To all our Ukrainian friends but especially Dina How pleasant it is, at the end of the day, No follies to have to repent, But reflect on the past, and be able to say, That my time has been properly spent Jane Taylor DEAR SIR, I WISH TO MAKE ENQUIRIES ABOUT A CHILD, PHYLLIS BURNHAM, WHO I BELIEVE YOU HAVE IN YOUR CARE. I AM HER RIGHTFUL FATHER. PHYLLIS WAS PUT IN YOUR CARE BY HER MOTHER IN APRIL 1944. REGRETTABLY I WAS NOT IN A POSITION TO TAKE ON PHYLLIS AT THE TIME, BUT I HAVE SINCE MADE SUBSTANTIAL CHANGES TO MY DOMESTIC SITUATION AND WOULD LIKE TO MAKE A HOME FOR PHYLLIS WITH ME. SHE WOULD HAVE ALL THE CARE AND ATTENTION SHE COULD WANT FROM ME, AND FROM HER DOTING GRANDPARENTS. MR K. BURNHAM Dear Mr K. Burnham, Thank you for your letter. There is no child of that name in any Suffolk Home. Mr P.P. Sommersby – Head of Children’s Services 1 JULY 1951 Suffolk, England Clara Newton, the housemother of the Shilling Grange Children’s Home in Lavenham, pulled her suitcase from the top of the wardrobe where it had been gathering dust, wiped it, then clapped her hands together in disgust. It was even grubbier than she had expected. Setting the suitcase on the floor, she went about filling it, as quietly as she could because she didn’t want the children to wake up yet. She felt guilty enough about this as it was. Stella the cat came in and sat in the lid, which Clara didn’t mind too much; it was nice to have company. Stella sometimes made her sneeze but the dust was making her nose twitch anyway. As she took a first dress from the hanger in the wardrobe, Clara was smiling to herself. Ivor had made this outfit for her and she was very much looking forward to wearing it for dinner tonight. It was knee-length, figure-skimming, and she knew she looked nice in it. She added a checked sundress, a blouse and trousers, although she wasn’t convinced by the trousers yet. However lovely the girls in the fashion magazines looked in them, the pockets and her hips were not the best combination, but she wanted a choice. Finally, still smiling – Stella must have thought she was crazy – she went to the bottom drawer, from where she took out a long white silk nightgown with spaghetti straps. It was quite possibly not only the most expensive item of clothing in there but the most expensive item Clara had ever had. It was also a hand-me-down (Anita really was a dear friend), but you wouldn’t know it: it was in perfect condition and beautiful. Later today, Clara and her beau, Ivor Delaney, would go to Hunstanton, Norfolk, and check in to the Ocean Breeze as Mr and Mrs Jones. They could perhaps choose a less obvious surname, but what was the point of that? They were all adults. Everyone knew what was what. Plus, the Ocean Breeze was a bit obvious too, wasn’t it? Since Clara and Ivor had got together two months ago on the day of the orphans’ performance at the Royal Festival Hall, they had only been alone with each other a handful of times. They were still together, but despite their proximity (he lived opposite on Shilling Street), they were not actually together an awful lot. They made plans for dates, but anything could scupper them: if Clara’s cover, Sister Grace, had a parish obligation, if Peg, one of the orphans, had a head cold, or if Gladys, another of the orphans, fell down the stairs and thought she had broken her wrist. (She had not broken her wrist.) When they did have time together, it was often only snippets. If Clara had a free moment, she sometimes went over to his workshop, where she watched him working. Despite having lost an arm at Dunkirk (in a military operation that gained him several medals for valour), Ivor was a craftsman. Clara loved listening to the hum of the sewing machines and admiring the concentration in his dark brown eyes. He brought stale armchairs back to life and covered dreary sofas and dining chairs with patterns. And he seemed to conjure up colourful curtains, thick tablecloths and cosy cushions out of nothing. Friends sometimes offered