The two of them tiptoed into the kitchen to make a drink.
‘What are you going to do?’
‘I’m going to go to the authorities tomorrow,’ Lizzie responded. ‘They were too busy this evening.’
Lizzie felt a drop in her heart as she outlined her plans to Diana. For just a minute, just a tiny sliver of a second before Diana had arrived, she’d pondered that maybe it would be possible for the child to stay with her, but of course, that was ridiculous. She had a family somewhere, no doubt desperate to get her back.
As the tea brewed, Lizzie covered the tiny feather-like body with a blanket and contemplated the world they now lived in, where along with bombs, little girls dropped out of the sky.
The next morning when Lizzie woke up, she could feel the tiny body curled in front of her. She had tried to settle the young girl in Tom’s bed, and Julia had even given her some of his toys for comfort, but in the middle of the night, Lizzie had felt the girl crawling into the bed beside her, and she hadn’t had the heart to take her back. Now she looked down at her, breath rising and falling in an easy rhythm, wisps of fair hair grazing her scarlet cheeks. Lizzie was in awe of the innocence of her, the pure perfection of her tiny features. It would be hard to take her to the Red Cross today, but Lizzie had to do what was right. A parent could be heart-sick and looking for her, and Lizzie knew how it felt to live with that kind of anguish.
Once she’d got her up and dressed, Julia gave her some of Maggie’s old clothes, and they had walked to the local Red Cross building. All the way there the wide-eyed child had clung to her, a tiny hand tight and clammy in Lizzie’s own. As she waited her turn, Lizzie looked around at all the people in line with her. Many looked bereft or heartbroken; she knew a lot of them were there looking for news of a loved one that was missing.
When she finally got to the front of the queue, the Red Cross volunteer had informed her that this wasn’t the right building, that she needed to be taken to another place across town where they were taking in the orphans. Just hearing the word ‘orphan’ made something in Lizzie’s stomach tighten. Maybe it was because of her own experience with her daughter, or perhaps it was just the thought of placing this precious little child into a system she wasn’t even sure could really support all she needed right now.
‘It’s the best we can do until her parents are found,’ the Red Cross worker informed her, looking down at her charge. ‘What’s your name, dear?’ asked the woman in a chirpy, friendly manner.
The girl’s eyes just widened with fear and she buried her head into Lizzie’s skirt.
‘She hasn’t spoken since I found her,’ explained Lizzie in a whisper, smoothing down the mane of blonde flyaway hair.
‘Poor little thing,’ responded the woman, shaking her head and pursing her ruby red lips. ‘We have two or three of them a day, you know, children, waifs and strays turning up lost. But most find their parents.’ She tried to reassure Lizzie. ‘She seems to be attached to you though,’
Lizzie didn’t like the sound of the word ‘most’, and suddenly she felt even more connection and obligation to this little lost soul. She thought of her own daughter out there somewhere amongst all this terror and hoped that she wasn’t wandering about looking for a place to belong, being labelled a waif and stray.
After they left the building, she had walked them to the park, and Lizzie realized she needed to find out the child’s name. She hadn’t managed to get any words out of her, even though both she and Julia had tried to coax her over breakfast, asking her what she wanted to eat. The child had just shaken her head, and eventually, Julia had managed to get her to eat some toast and jam.
After she had played on the slide and Lizzie had pushed her on the swings for a while, Lizzie went to sit on a park bench, and the child followed her, sitting close by her side. Lizzie smiled down and stroked the tiny cheek.
‘You know, I’m going to need to know your name if I am to help you.’