Forty-Two Years Ago
“I don’t want to go,” wails the little girl. “I want to stay with Daddy.” She rubs at her eyes. “Why do I have to go?”
“Because you’re coming with Mommy, Sweetie. We’re going to stay with Aunty Alice.”
“But why do we have to go?”
*****
“Here you are, Shelley, you can sleep in here.”
The woman turns on the lights to what was a spare room. A bed has been made up and there is some attempt to make the room into a welcoming place for a little girl, with comic books and borrowed toys on a table. Some second-hand child-sized furniture, the bright plastic worn to grey at the edges, is set out on a brightly coloured rug. “Mummy will be sleeping just next door, and….”
“I want my room,” weeps the little girl. “I want Daddy. I want my friends.”
“You’ll make new friends rea
