Room 16
By katy loades
- 533 reads
Room 16 – Chapter 1
It had been a short autumn that year. The leaves fell fast, the wind carrying them on
it’s surf moving back and forth, back and forth until they had gone as quickly as they had arrived. The cold had set in and the pipes were freezing just as the year before and the year before that.
I had forgotten how many years I had been staying at St.Thomas. Friends had come and gone and each day rolled into the next. That December I was to turn thirteen and it was to become my last year at the orphanage. Not much of a building with its tight corners and jagged edges. I remember it being very dull and grey in colour. I am unaware of how many rooms it held as we were not allowed to enter some of them. Rumour had it that Mr Cox and Mr Clegg had carpets, fires, lamps and treats in theirs. Maybe our stories were simply dreams that nice things still existed, that there might be a glimmer of hope for the future. Or perhaps it was the truth that Cox and Clegg had whatever they liked. They certainly did a good job at taking what they wanted from the children.
The girl’s dormitory had a stone floor. The cold would creep into your feet if you stood still for too long. It would climb up your legs and tense every muscle it passed. The room was long and narrow with beds to the left and right. The tiny windows were high, but if we stood on the metal frame of Mary’s bed we could peek out at the world we once new. A small reminder that life still existed out side of St. Thomas. Mary was my closest friend. We were both eight years of age when I first arrived at the orphanage. She held my hand and led me up the crooked corridor and told me to lay my belongings on the bed next to hers. We became inseparable. We made up stories of what we would do if we ever got out of St. Thomas.
Lunch time was our best part of the day. It was the meal that we thought about all morning. Dinner was not our favourite for it meant that bedtime was nearing and everyone dreaded that time. The smell of stew tickled our senses as it wafted down the corridors and clung to the walls. It always felt like such a long time between smelling lunch and tasting it. Minutes felt like hours as our tummies rumbled in tune. Mary and I were often on lunch duty so we would lay the tables as quickly as our little bodies could manage, clutching stacks of tin bowls and juggling spoons. Praying that lunch would come quicker.
Charlie Place was his name. He did not seem afraid like the rest of us. He was a year older than me and quite burly. I don’t know how long he had stayed at St. Thomas. He got caught up in many beatings yet he never looked scared. One lunch when Mr. Cox was saying grace, Charlie looked up and smiled. Mr. Clegg spotted Charlie and turned to Mr Cox, whispering in his ear. “Place, Charlie Place, get here now.” shouted Mr. Cox.
The dining room was still, all eyes on Charlie. Charlie did not walk like the rest of us with his head hung low. Instead his head was held high and his shoulders were firmly back. He did not scurry towards Mr. Cox, he walked with a bounce in his step and his hands clasped behind him. You could say he had a slight arrogance about him or perhaps it was just pride. By the time he’d reached the head table where Mr. Cox sat waiting, the ladle and slipper were already placed. This was the norm for meal times. If any of us misbehaved or committed the crime of asking to visit the lavatory, we were to choose between the ladle and the slipper. Of course, the slipper being the most popular of the two.
“Yes Sir?” said Charlie.
“Do you not believe in God Charlie?”
“Of course Sir.”
“Do you think you’re better than God Charlie?”
“No Sir.”
“Then pray tell me what you think you were doing looking up in the course of mid grace?” The lines in Mr. Cox’s face became more apparent as he frowned.
Charlie stared at him with an egotistical smirk. “A simple mistake Sir.”
“Choose your punishment Charlie Place.” Mr. Cox turned to address all of us. “This is the punishment you get for believing your better than God.”
Charlie picked up the ladle and handed it to Mr. Cox. We all gasped. No one ever picked up the ladle by choice. In an attempt to embarrass Charlie, Mr. Cox pulled down his trousers and pants so that we could all see his bare bottom, still rife with sores from previous beatings. Mr. Cox counted every blow as he launched the ladle across Charlie’s bottom.
“One…two…three…more Charlie?” There was a long pause and a cold silence as we all waited for Charlie to repent.
“Yes Sir.” replied Charlie.
Everyone gasped and I felt a churning in my gut. We all looked on nervously waiting for a response. Mr. Cox’s face started to turn red and you could see his veins almost explode.
“Four…five…six…seven…”
Charlie did not make a sound, not even a wince. His legs were shaking and he looked like he would collapse, but he did not let out even a groan. We all watched in awe.
“Eight…nine…ten…Now back to your seat Charlie Place.”
Charlie struggled to walk with the pain but still his head was high. When he sat down he put his hands under his thighs to alleviate some of the pressure on his bottom. I could not keep myself from staring at him, still in shock myself. My whole body was shivering. I had to squeeze my jaw to stop my teeth chattering, afraid I might be heard over the deadly silence and tense atmosphere that Charlie had created. I wonder if he sensed that my eyes were glaring into his back, for he turned his head and winked at me. Charlie Place winked at me! For a split second I had forgotten where I was and how cold I felt. Maybe I was dreaming I must have imagined it. There were far prettier girls that Charlie might have winked at. Veronica was sitting to my left with hair so long and golden it could light up the room. Even Mary to my right with her freckles and curls. Why would he wink at me with my short plain brown locks and blunt fringe?
Mary nudged me in the ribs with her elbow. She whispered in my ear. “Did you see that? Did you see? Charlie Place just winked at you.”
I sat there dazed, lost in my own little world, unable to reply. I picked up my spoon and attempted to swallow my stew. I felt so hungry but the butterflies in my stomach kept me from eating. I swapped my bowl with Mary’s. She was more than happy to oblige with the second helping.
After lunch we hurried to the playground keen to talk about Charlie and what had happened. It was raining outside so we bundled together under the old chestnut tree. Charlie and some of the other boys were lent against the only corner of the orphanage that had shelter. The younger children braved the weather and did handstands against the back wall of the building. There was so much chatter in the playground, Charlie being the only topic of conversation. He had lifted every ones spirits and made life exciting again.
“Did he really wink at me Mary? Are you sure it wasn’t meant for Veronica?”
“Of course, it was right at you, did you not see? Oh Rosa, he’s coming.”
I looked up. Sure enough Charlie was headed straight for us. His deep brown eyes sparkled as he looked directly at me. His clothes were clung to his body and you could see the shape of his torso. Everything else was a blur, except Charlie. He homed in on me like a lion hunting out his prey. I looked left and right, my eyes flickering here and there, searching for something to focus on, some distraction. My heart was pounding so hard I could almost hear it. I started plucking the grass nervously looking at each blade as if it had some importance.
“Rosa? Rosa did you want to play conkers?” said Charlie.
“Conkers?”
“I’ve got one for you and one for me. Here take it.”
He reached out his hand to reveal a shiny chestnut conker hung on an old shoe lace. I looked down to his boots to discover that both laces were missing. I smiled. How could I refuse when he had gone to the trouble of removing his own laces for us to play conkers.
“You go first,” I said.
“No, ladies first.”
I pulled the conker back and took aim. I squinted my eyes to get better accuracy. A short pause and I whipped my conker through the air. I missed. I was so embarraced, my face felt hot and puffy and my hands started to tremble.
“Don’t worry, you get two more goes.”
I tried again, failing miserably. “I can’t do it, I’m useless”
“You’re not useless, here let me help you. Mary, can you hold this for me please?”
Mary, I had forgotten she was still sitting there. In fact, I hadn’t noticed anyone in the playground since Charlie had come over. As I peered round, all but the youngest children were watching me and Charlie. Once again I blushed. Mary stood up and held Charlie’s conker. Charlie stood behind me and put his hand over mine.
“Hold it up like this. Put the conker between your first finger and your second finger. With this hand pull the lace taught. Now release.” With the first blow his conker split in two, whilst mine stayed intact. He let go of my hands and clapped. “Brilliant, you were brilliant.”
He smiled so wide that his cheeks touched his eyes. He was so beautiful. He made me feel alive, like nothing else mattered but us. Just for a moment I had forgotten about the horrors of St. Thomas and what we were all subjected too. He lit a spark inside me that warmed my whole body. I was mesmerized by his strength as he stood there before me.
“Rosa, you have a special conker. Keep it for good luck.”
“I can’t, it’s yours and besides you will need your lace back.”
“Alright, I will have my lace back, you keep the conker.”
He removed his lace from the conker and passed it to me. As I reached out my hand to take it, his fingers closed over mine. I looked up to his masculine frame, completely besotted. There was a light breeze in the air. The rain had subsided and the sun was peeking through the clouds just a little. A shard of light had managed to find its way through the branches of the chestnut tree and shone right down on Charlie’s head. He looked like an angel, sent from heaven to save me. Our moment was cut short by the bell. I looked around as Mary and the other children hurried to line up for Mr. Cox. Charlie pulled me forward and kissed me on the cheek. He whispered in my ear. “You’re a special girl Rosa Goodwin.”
With that he strode off to join the others. For a moment I stood there stunned, Charlie’s warm lips still imprinted on my face. I lifted my hand to touch my cheek as though it would bring us back together.
“Rosa, hurry up!”
I recognised the high pitch squeak from Veronica.
“Always the last one. Get to the back of the line where you belong.”
She thought she was really something. She was the kind of girl that would pretend to be your friend one minute then betray you the next. The staff adored her, probably because she was a tell tale, always getting the other children into trouble. She would follow Mr. Cox around like a puppy. I had never seen her beaten before, nor had she been taken to the cellar at night. Mary and I called her Miss. Uppity.
That evening the girls were all talking about Charlie and the way in which he had behaved at lunch time. Some said he was brave whilst others suggested he was just plain stupid. I thought he was a gift from God, but my recollections were not of lunch, instead I was reminiscing on our time under the chestnut tree. I lay in bed with the blanket pulled high in an attempt to trap the warm air inside and stop the cold air creeping in. Mary turned to face me, tucking her blanket under her neck and bringing her legs up to her chest.
“Do you think today went quicker than most days?”
“Too quick, I wish I’d had more time with Charlie. He’s so handsome don’t you think? I’ve kept the conker he gave me. It’s wrapped in my hankie for safe keeping.”
“You ought to hide it under your mattress where no one can find it.”
I didn’t want to move for fear of letting in the cold so I decided I would try in the morning. Mary braved the icy air and held out her arm as far as she could reach. “Oh I forgot, I’m supposed to give you this piece of paper. Ruth gave it to me from William, who got it from Charlie. Sorry it’s a bit torn, I’ve had it in my pocket since supper.”
I whipped the crinkled note from her hand. “Thank you Mary, have you read it?”
“No, Ruth said it was a secret.”
I unraveled the paper. “It reads, Dear Rosa meet me under the chestnut tree at morning break. Yours truly, Charlie, kiss kiss”
My body tingled as I re-read every word. I imagioned what it would sound like coming from Charlie’s lips.
Mary grinned at me. “I can’t believe it. Charlie wants to meet with you again. Oh Rosa you are the luckiest girl in St. Thomas. Will you meet with him?”
Our ramblings were cut short by the shouting of Mr. Cox and Mr. Clegg. We all knew the voice of Mr. Cox and it was easy to tell Mr. Clegg was there because he often repeated anything that Mr. Cox said.
“When Mr. Sheppard takes you by the hand, you will follow.”
“You will follow.”
“Never once have I had to come up here myself.”
“Never once.”
If Mr. Sheppard was involved then some poor child would be taken down to the cellar. Mr. Sheppard was like the handy man. He had a long nose with enormous nostrils that were always full of snot. His odour was masked by the heavy smell of tobacco and we all found him rather revolting. He never spoke, not a word. He would just pluck the children from their beds, holding their hand and leading them to the cellar. I had visited the cellar only twice, but others had suffered the cruelties many more times than I. Mr. Sheppard seldom entered the cellar itself, he would just leave us there with Mr. Cox and Mr. Clegg. After they had finished with us, we were to find our own way back to our beds.
“You’re not taking me anywhere.”
“Clegg, grab his other arm, I can’t hold him down.”
“Get off me, I’m not going.”
It was Charlie’s voice. As I lay there listening to the struggle a part of me wanted Charlie to fight and get the better of them, but the other part of me feared he may suffer all the more. I turned to face Mary who was already looking my way. Her eyes were wide open and her hand was covering her mouth. The voices became louder and more aggressive. Mr. Cox was almost choking over his own words.
“No one embarrasses me.”
“No one.”
A door slammed and the noise gradually became quieter and quieter until a silent pause that seemed to last a lifetime. Then screams, terrible screams like those of an animal being slaughtered. The kind of screams that force pimples up your arms and across your back. I put my hands over my ears and closed my eyes. I trembled as I desperately tried to think of something else, anything but Charlie.
The next morning it was back to normal routine at St. Thomas. Not one of us spoke about Charlie but we were all keen to see him at breakfast. I looked down at my porridge, spooning it from left to right in the bowl.
“Charlie got what was coming to him last night,” said Veronica with her eyes squinted.
“Oh Veronica shut up!”
I looked over to Charlie’s seat, still unoccupied. Why was he so late for breakfast? He could not afford to get into trouble again. I tried to make eye contact with William but he avoided looking at me. I glanced over to Ruth, but she too hung her head when she caught me staring.
“Don’t you want that Rosa?” said Mary looking at my bowl.
“You can have it.” I pushed my bowl towards Mary’s.
“You’re not allowed to share,” came Veronica’s squeaky voice.
“We’re not sharing, we’re swapping,” replied Mary
“You’re not allowed to swap.”
I could feel myself tense up, the blood pumping rapidly through my veins. I turned to face Veronica ready to explode. I wanted to scratch her eyes out and rip that precious hair from her scalp. Reluctantly I tightened my lips in a bid to say nothing untoward. I turned to face my bowl once again. I could not afford to miss break that day for I was to meet Charlie under the chestnut tree.
Mary saw my frustration and quickly changed the subject. “Rosa, have you seen Mr. Coxes face? It is swollen above his right cheek and he has a cut on his eyebrow. I bet Charlie gave it to him.”
I tried to look up discretely. Sure enough, Mr. Cox looked as though he had been in a fight. “I hope it hurt, he deserves it. I hope Charlie taught him a lesson. I can’t wait to see him at break, will you walk with me to the tree?”
Mary took my hand “Of course.”
It was a chilly morning and the dew was still set on the grass. The sun was low with its piercing rays blinding me as I walked across the playground. Mary held my hand; she could tell I was nervous. That autumn scent was in the air and the fresh breeze cleansed my face. We were the first to reach the tree so we huddled together. The normal groups of friends congregated at different areas of the playground. William, John and a few of the older boys were lent against their usual corner though Charlie was not among them on this occasion. I had a growing concern for Charlie and what might have happened to him. Why was he not here and why had no one seen him? Maybe he was just avoiding Mr. Cox. Besides we were only half way through break and he could have turned up at any moment. Mary could see that I was getting restless.
“Come on Rosa, let’s sing a song.”
“Sorry Mary, I really don’t feel like singing.”
“How about cats cradle then?”
Mary reached into her pocket and handed me the string. We played and played but still no Charlie. I looked up through the great branches to the sky. My eyes started to sting as they filled with tears.
“He’s not coming is he?”
“There’s still time,” said Mary, but judging by the tremor in her voice, she believed it no more than I.
“I wish he was here to wrap his strong arms around me and save me from this place.”
The familiar sound of the bell ringing was enough to make us both jump.
“Come on Rosa, its time to go in.”
“I think I’ll wait a little longer.”
I sat there waiting for some kind of miracle. I opened the crumpled paper to read his note once again.
Ruth ran over to fetch me. “Rosa, hurry before Mr. Cox spots you’re not in the line.”
“Have you seen Charlie?”
“No one’s seen Charlie, come on quickly.”
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